Octoberfest in Manila

It was a packed house for an outdoor venue, a cobblestone square mere meters from my condo. Overhead streamers fluttered in the tepid breeze. Random fireworks popped off to the beat of the music video ads on the scattered jumbotrons. The video ads showed pretty Filipinas looking for skin whitener and smiling with perfect teeth. Or offered suggestions for which is the best cell phone carrier. The band was on a break and so the beer tents were inundated and at 40 pesos per glass is no screaming deal. The servers where having trouble keeping the kegs plugged in the beer was flowing so fast. It was so crowded that it was steamy hot and you could feel the updrafts caused by the body heat in spite of the 30-degree evening.

Sponsored by the San Miguel Company, the local beer brewer is one of the largest corporations in the Philippines. They do more than beer, but beer is the anchor; think of them like the Irving conglomerate. I have a new friend who is a San Mig employee. So off we went to find the VIP area.

The road outside the venue was packed. Traffic was stopped. Jeepneys lined the ‘fast lane’ (presumably waiting to take people away) and were used as viewing platforms. The music was deafening, even beyond the confines of the riot barriers. The high boulevard was lined with folks how couldn’t or wouldn’t pay the 200 peso entry fee. A red Ferrari went by, where did that come from? Like a scene out of ‘American Graffiti” the road was lined with cars and people. Headlights flashing and weaving out a light and shadow show.

We busted through the throngs of people standing outside the barrier and found an entry gate. At that point everything moved into strobe effect. It was hard to physically move for the crush. Everywhere it was 'hi Joe'. I had more friends than I have ever had in one place! Hi Joe. Peace out. Touching and rubbing. Shoulders and (bald) head. Beer flying. Heat waves. Body crush. Smiles. Prost. Mabuhay. Guzzle slurp.

We found the VIP site in spite of the endless redirections. Climbed the stairs to the covered lookout on the second floor of a building on the periphery of the cobbled square. The band came back and the crowd started to throb. Like one big amoeba it flexed and rippled and moved as far as the riot barrier, and then back again.

And then the monsoon decided to offer one last gasp to the gods of Neptune. It poured. And poured. It poured so much that it killed the party...but not before we turned it into a Woodstock first. It continued to rain, contrary to the usual fleeting monsoon outbursts, and it rained through the night. It was all over by 0130 hrs, just moments after it had started in earnest.

Bummer.

But hey! Octoberfest in Manila – how cool is that? Prost.

Note: In the P, it is not uncommon for gringos to be referred to as “Joe”. Greetings on the street often consist of ‘Hi Joe’, tho there is some hint of derision in the tone…