No speaky da language

After studying foreign languages for more than fifteen years, I just bought plane tickets for my very first trip overseas ever. (Those two facts together demonstrate most of all, perhaps, the extent to which I’ve faked it so far in my life.) I was supposed to go to Ukraine in June, but that fell through in spectacular fashion. But this time, no screwups allowed: I gotta ticket for Manila in December and I intend to use it. Why Manila? It is a pertinent question. The simple answer is, kaskasero managed to get himself engaged to be married, and there’s no way I’d miss that wedding. Even though it means 25 hours of traveling—one way—and lord knows how many vaccinations. Oh, and I know one whole word of Tagalog: tinga, or something stuck in your teeth. At least I’m ready to eat out, right?