The Visa Process

Even though I’ll be traveling around-the-world by plane and by train, I’m only visiting 11 countries (counting the U.S.) Luckily, as an American, I need just two visas — Russia and China — but they’re both communist countries, and I’ve read online that getting those visas can be a nightmare and takes forever. I had only 3 weeks in the U.S. to get both.

I researched the visas online, downloaded the form for China and did the online application for Russia. I took new passport photos so they’d be up-to-date. Checking out the requirements was confusing because I found conflicting information. One site for the Russian visa listed income tax returns, bank statements, divorce certificate, hotel reservations, travel tickets, etc. etc.. But when I called the ILS (Invisa Logistic Services) office in San Francisco, I was relieved to learn that the only thing besides the application and $160 for a 3-year multiple entry Russian visa was an invitation letter.

Being such an experienced world traveler, I’m embarrassed to say that I got ripped off by paying $50 for an invitation letter. I like a blog called “The Man in Seat 61” which is about train travel around the world. He recommends Real Russia in the UK for getting your Russian visa, and he mentions that if you go through the link on his website that he gets a small commission. Without price checking, I paid $50 for the invitation letter through Real Russia, which they emailed immediately and I printed it up. 

Then I booked a few hostels in Moscow and St. Petersburg through booking.com, a website I’ve used quite often and am generally pleased with. Most of their bookings include free cancellations, which is helpful when you want to play it by ear, but need proof of a reservation. One hostel that I booked temporarily offered an invitation letter for $15. Didn’t I feel stupid? 

For my Chinese visa, I needed a ticket out of the country, so I bought a train ticket from Beijing to Ulan-Bator, the capitol of Mongolia. The entire Trans-Siberian Railway from Beijing to Moscow is 7,621 km (4,735 miles) and takes six nights if you do it non-stop, which I won’t. 

I prepared all my paperwork in Manila, flew to San Francisco, then directly to the Chinese Embassy. I had hoped to arrive by 9:00 a.m. when they open, but instead I was a half hour late. By then, the place was packed, with a line out the door. I got number 87 and had to wait 2-1/2 hours for my turn. There were mostly Chinese in the embassy, but also Americans like myself. After sitting for 13 hours in a plane, I decided to walk around the neighborhood, always checking in to be sure I didn’t miss my turn.

I was a little nervous that I might not get the Chinese visa without an invitation letter also. A student from China had stayed a few nights at my house last summer when her host family was ill, but because of restrictions on email and Facebook, I had lost touch with her. Still, I filled in what information I did have on her where it asked for my invitation. Finally, it was my turn. The woman went over my paperwork quickly, handed my hostel booking confirmation back to me, and gave me a receipt to pick up my passport and visa in four days.

Exactly on the fourth day, I went back up to San Francisco (1-1/2 hours from Santa Cruz where I live) paid $160 for my Chinese visa and took my passport directly  to the ILS office a mile or two away. In contrast to the bustling Chinese embassy, this office was quiet and empty. They had about five windows — Russian citizens, group tours, drop off application, cashier, pick up application. No line at any of them, just serious-faced very white-skinned clerks sitting behind glass. I took my application, invitation letter and passport to the appropriate window. The woman showed me where to sign and said to come back in a week.  Who knew I could get both visas in a week and a half? 

Day 1: San Francisco Airport to Manila, Philippines

Friday, Sept. 16, 2016

I guess I'm lucky. My non-stop flight from SFO to Manila is scheduled for "only" 13 hours.

Nothing exciting yet. Just waiting at the San Francisco Airport for my 10:45 p.m. boarding time. My main concern at this point is overweight baggage. It wasn't a problem for this international flight. But it may be for my connecting flight from Manila to Cebu City. It's happened before where I had to keep putting on more clothes, to lighten my carry-on bag, which can't be more than 7 kilos (about the same weight as a terrier mutt). I'm also thinking I can take the Costco snacks out of their protective boxes, just hoping they don't get smashed on the short 1-hour flight from island to island.

I already had a return flight to Manila, but since I've been going back and forth to the Philippines so much this year, I was getting tired of flying over the Pacific Ocean. So why not keep going in the same direction? Since I love trains, I started researching the Trans-Mongolian and the Trans-Siberian Railways. Doing the whole trip in 80 days is going to be challenging, but this late in the year it's probably a good idea to keep moving, especially on such a northern route. Snow in Siberia looks romantic in the movie Dr. Zhivago, but I'm a California Girl and not prepared for cold.

If I time it perfectly, I'll be back at home in Santa Cruz, California by December 4. But I've already decided not to buy more tickets in advance than I have to, just in case I absolutely fall in love somewhere, I can stay longer, and if I absolutely hate it I can leave quickly. Most of my travel will be by train because it's my favorite mode of transportation, and the only flights will be across two oceans and from Manila to Beijing.

The Philippines has 7500 islands. I've been to 17 so far: Luzon, Samar, Leyte, Cebu, Malapascua, Palawan, Cagsalay, Mindanao, Siquijor, Negros, Siargao, Bohol, Panglao, Cowrie, Pandan, Starfish and Luli.

Day 2 Got Lost Over the Ocean

I hope this explains what happened to Sept. 17, 2016. I never saw it because it vanished as my plane crossed the International Date Line.

Day 3: Cebu City, the Philippines

Sunday, Sept. 18, 2016

The 13-hour non-stop flight to Manila from San Francisco went very smoothly. I even slept part of the way. They fed us so much dinner and snacks, I had to refuse the breakfast, which is unusual for me. I’m kind of a penny-pincher who enjoys “free” food. My seat partner Yama is originally from Afghanistan, but came to the US with his family as refugees, following the Russian invasion in 1979. I watched two movies while Yama slept, then chatted once he woke up. He will be meeting Afghan friends in Bangkok, some VIPs, so hotel and meals will be paid for. We promised to get together in Santa Cruz in 2017.

Somehow I managed to cut down my big bag from 22 kilos to 20.5, and my carry-on from 12 kilos to 8. I put on more clothes, transferred some small heavy items to my back pack (which they don’t weigh because it has a laptop in it), swapped my tennies for some bigger heavier ones that I’m bringing for the ball boys in Argao, Cebu where I stayed June-August. And threw out the boxes from granola bars and goldfish crackers. It’s a miracle, but it worked.

Waiting at the Manila Airport for connecting flight to Cebu. It's common in Asia to wear dust masks to prevent spreading illness and to protect against bad air.

After a quick hour and 15 minute flight from Manila to Cebu City, I was happy to see my Filipino friend Debrah waiting just outside baggage claim. Usually I travel light, except when I’m bringing gifts. My 20-kilo bag was full of used tennis rackets and tennis shoes for the ball boys in Argao, and snacks and gifts for the girls at Cebu Hope Center, and other friends I’ll be visiting during 10 days in the Philippines.

Cebu Hope Center, run by Franciscan nuns, provides a home for girls who have been abandoned or abused.

So far this year I’ve spent 7 months in the Philippines, mostly in Cebu, so I know my way around the city by jeepney -- colorful converted American jeeps, leftover from WWII. For 7 pesos (15 cents US) I get to duck and hunch over as I find my spot on the side benches. Sometimes the driver collects the fare, or he has a helper who hangs onto the open back of the jeepney and yells out the destination. The passengers help pass the coins and small bills forward and the change back. When you want off you can tap the metal roof with a coin, make a smooching noise, or yell out, “lugar lang.”

Colorful jeepneys, originally converted from WWII surplus, are the main form of public transportation in Cebu City.

Debrah and I went straight from the airport to Cebu Hope Center, a live-in rehabilitation home for girls age 8-18 who have been abandoned and/or abused by their families, run by Franciscan Sisters of the Sacred Heart. It’s Sunday so the girls and nuns were watching a movie together. We shared my gifts of cashews, granola bars, goldfish crackers, dried California apricots, almonds, and cappucino drink mix, along with other individual gifts. I told some stories and put on a puppet show with the hand puppets I brought. 

Although I’m generally lucky to avoid the jet lag monster, he got me this time. I felt myself getting sleepy around 5 p.m., so I headed to my hotel and was fast asleep by 6:00 p.m. I had hoped to sleep a full 8 hours after the long flight, but no, I woke up ready to take on the world at 11:30 p.m. Thank goodness I was in my favorite cheap pension, Jacinth near the Capitol building, so I had decent wifi and could catch up on emails, Facebook, and start this blog. I never left the room until Debrah showed up at 10 a.m.

Day 4: Quick Visit to Argao, Cebu Philippines

Monday, Sept. 19, 2016

View from the roof top of BJs by-the-Sea B&B in Argao, Cebu, Philippines.

After running errands around Cebu City, Debrah and I headed to the South Bus Terminal and caught a bus to Argao, one of my favorite Filipino towns where I lived for two months at BJ's by-the-Sea. I love co-owner Joy Fallon's cooking so much, I worked a deal where the food would be included. She prepared lots of yummy, healthy salads, fruits and veggies for me, even though the typical Filipino diet includes lots of pork, fried chicken and white rice. Her American husband Billy is always fun to talk politics and music with.

Billy and Joy, owners of BJs by-the-Sea, with their grandson Liam

From the first time I invited Debrah to visit me in Argao, she fell in love...both with the town and Joy's cooking. On the way, in a town called San Fernando, young vendors hop on the bus to sell tiny buko (coconut) pies. I bought two boxes of 10 each for a total of $4.50, still warm from the oven. It's nice to bring something to share with Joy, her family and other friends. Since I was the only white woman living in Argao, it seems like everyone knows me.

Liam and his Ate (big sister) Precious in the Chinatown caps I brought for them

I also brought a big bag of gifts from the U.S., mostly for Joy's grandkids, and for the ball boys at the Argao Tennis Club where Joy is one of the top players. She loaned me a racket and balls when I first arrived in June, so I could relearn the game. Racquetball is my main sport, but I did play Junior Varsity Tennis in high school, a game that my grandma Leslie loved and shared with me. The Argao players made me feel welcome, and after two months I was feeling in shape and stronger in my game...just in time to return to the U.S. for my father's 86th birthday. I had hoped to have time to play today, but we got a late start after getting my laptop repaired by Joy's brother, buying socks to pair with the nice used tennis shoes I'd brought for the ball boys, and new grips for the used rackets, visited the Montessori school...actually I don't know how we squeezed it all into one day.

Happy bunnies with water in their new water dishes at Argao's Nature Park.

In addition to giving gifts and enjoying one of Joy's delicious meals, Debrah and I also had a mission to visit the Nature Park in Argao to see how the staff was treating the rabbits, monkeys and various other animals. Sad news, the snake had died. But at least the new water dishes I'd bought for the rabbits did have water in them, and they had grass to eat. The monkeys were as angry and neurotic as always. A lifetime of therapy wouldn't help them after being caged and tortured by the public all these years. I cry every time I see the condition of these animals, wishing I had time to volunteer in the Argao classrooms and lead field trips to the Nature Park. Debrah says she's learned a lot from me regarding compassion for animals, but it's not really part of the Filipino culture. This time I brought some water feeders for the monkeys.

I stopped by with granola bars and buko pies for my favorite neighbors and local venders, like Nene who does my hair and nails, and the woman who sells buko juice, and Butch the singing used clothes vendor who inherited the big duffel on wheels that I brought everything in.

My friend Nene, mother of two, does hair, nails, and threading at Tommy's Salon in the Central Market.

The give-away at the tennis courts went better than I could have imagined. Every ball boy picked out a racket and tennis shoes that fit. I even had a nice pair of K-Swiss that fit Debrah perfectly (which was great since I make her walk so much), and a large pair for Roslyn the nanny of Joy's grandkids. And Joy spotted a Head racquet she wanted. Joy later told me that the other members of the club were offering to buy the rackets and shoes from the ball boys, but so far the kids were busy rallying across the net and hitting into the practice wall. I wonder if they'll ever wear the tennis shoes, which are a requirement to play with the club members, but the ball boys are used to running barefoot or in flip-flops.

Anthony is my favorite ball boy to rally with.  I hope he can learn to play in tennis shoes.

Unfortunately, we couldn't stay long enough to play tennis with the ball boys or swim in the warm ocean water because our night ferry to Surigao City was waiting for us in Cebu City.

Swimming for an hour in the ocean was part of my daily routine when I lived in Argao for two months.

Day 5: Boat to Siargao, the Surfing Capitol of the Philippines

Tuesday, Sept. 20, 2016


Roosters began crowing on the ferry, long before the sun came up. I’m not sure if I slept at all, still fighting the jet lag monster. By 4:00 a.m. I gave up trying to sleep and walked around the boat, looking for a place to sit and write.

Beautiful Gladys of Daly City, California on her way home to visit family and friends in Surigao City.

Instead, I met a Filipino-American named Gladys who lives south of San Francisco in Daly City, famous for its large Filipino population, although Chinese have been moving in lately. Gladys was born in Surigao, one of 7 children who moved to California when she was 14 years old. She says her younger siblings adapted easier than she did, and claims to still retain an accent, although her English sounded fine to me. She now lives with her boyfriend because she got tired of her mother’s rules and restrictions. She hasn’t been back to the Philippines since 2012 and wouldn’t have taken the ferry since she can’t swim, but flights are too expensive.

Badjao people, or "Sea Gypsies" are expert divers who beg for coins from the ferry passengers.

As the 3-level ferry approached the dock we saw small outrigger canoes approaching. Gladys asked a German woman what she thought they were. “Fishermen?” the German asked. Gladys laughed, “Yeah, fishing for money.” Sure enough, a couple dozen Badjao people, many with small children and babies in tow, began begging for money. The Filipino passengers, familiar with the game, threw coins far into the water and the Badjao dove in after them. Still impressive, but quite tame compared to the young dare devils I’d seen in the Philippines before who dove off the top of the ferry to retrieve coins. The German woman, who I later found out has been traveling alone for a year and a half, watched for a while, then said, “I think it’s kind of sad.” I too felt a little uncomfortable at first, but in the end, I tossed my coins into the water. I figured at least they’re doing something healthy, and probably earning more than working a minimum wage job. Filipino construction workers only make about 260-350 pesos a day ($6-$8). Eventually, the German came around. “I don’t know. Maybe it’s a good thing,” she said.

I’ve been to Surigao before, in fact, last time I walked and walked and walked all around the mundane city for 8 hours, waiting for my next boat. This time I cut to the chase and suggested we go straight to the waterfront hotel lobby. Debrah opted for the buffet breakfast, while I took advantage of the wifi and AC. I was frustrated not being able to leave of Siargao sooner. Why would the only boats from Surigao to Siargao leave at 5 a.m. and 11:30 a.m. since the Cebu-Surigao ferry arrives at 6 a.m.? We couldn’t possibly make the early boat, and we had to wait hours for the next one.

It’s festival time in Surf City, so everything is booked and crowded. Luckily, we stayed with my friend Catherine. She and I met several months ago on the island of Siquijor — supposedly inhabited by witches, so most Filipinos are afraid to go there. Catherine's originally from South Africa, but lived in the UK for many years. An uncle of hers married a Filipina, which is how her family discovered and fell in love with the Philippines 15 years ago. Catherine’s father owns a little beachfront resort on Siquijor called The Bruce and Catherine runs a cool restaurant across the road where I enjoyed fresh tropical fruits with Greek yogurt and homemade granola every morning. Her ranch-style home is next door to The Bruce, facing the clear blue ocean. Because of its reputation for sorcerers, Siquijor still offers unspoiled white sandy beaches, caves and waterfalls.

Siqujor's unspoiled beaches are protected by its reputation as haunted by witches.

Shortly after I met them, Catherine and her half-Filipino 7-year-old son Zak moved to General Luna, Siargao, within biking distance of the famous Cloud Nine surf spot. She invited me to join them, so I did for a week in May. Her rented 3-bedroom house became something of a hostel and local hang out, for the rasta-surfer community that runs a souvenir shop called called “Sabali.” It’s great because Zak surfs, skateboards, eats, bikes, and generally hangs out with this friendly laid-back bunch of Filipino transplants and travelers from Europe, U.S. and China.

My dear South African friend Catherine and two of her three sons, Daniel and Zak, both surfers.

After hanging out for a while, Debrah and I hopped on bikes and rode over to Cloud 9 in time to catch some of the National Surfing Championships. Last time I was there the place was practically deserted, and the raised boardwalk was a bit scary with all the rotting planks. Now the rotten boards were replaced by new ones, the 3-story stand was packed with observers, and dozens of surfers were out in the water, waiting for a wave. Compared to Steamer’s Lane in Santa Cruz, the water was quite flat, but I heard that come November when Siargao hosts the 22nd International Surfing Competition, the waves should be much higher. Legend says that Filipinos never surfed until foreign surfers discovered Cloud 9 and introduced the sport a few decades ago. Now native surfers, even young kids like Zak, are hitting the waves. 

The Boardwalk out to Cloud Nine's spectating tower has been repaired since I was there a few months ago, just in time for the National and International Surfing Championships.

The Tower is a great spot to watch the surfing action at Siargao's famous Cloud 9 beach.

The waves at Cloud 9 were not very impressive, but I hear they get better later in the season.

We pedaled back to Catherine’s at sunset. We were joined by Catherine’s boyfriend Den, whose dreadlocks reach the floor and who gave me a kali fighting stick lesson last time. Together we walked the short distance to town where the carnival was being set up in preparation for the annual fiesta. In addition to a wide variety of food and merchandise vendors, there were also tons of “ukay-ukay” shops selling piles of used clothing. My Filipino friends were surprised that I buy only used clothing back home in California. I had worn my swim suit under my clothes, so when we got to the pier I dove in and swam from the end back towards shore. The warm water at night is so relaxing, I didn’t want to get out. During my two-month stay in Argao, Cebu I swam every evening for an hour, something I’d been missing in California where the ocean is too cold.

UkayUkay vendors were out in full force, hawking used clothing from the U.S.

I got to visit with some of my old friends, like Ching the Chinese yoga instructor and Leticia the French cafe manager. I missed Weng the Filipina rasta girl, but heard she was too hung over from partying the night before. She has a new foreign boyfriend, after giving up on her Danish one who isn’t sure when he’ll return to the Philippines. Siargao is the only place I’ve visited in the Philippines where Filipinos and foreigners mix so comfortably and on an equal basis….much different from the traditional tourist areas where you see old, fat, balding white guys with beautiful young Filipinas, half their age and half their size, in borderline prostitutional relationships. I really enjoy the international atmosphere of Siargao and plan to return as often as I can. Debrah felt the same way.

Group shot from my first trip to Siargao in June 2016, with Weng, Chang, Catherine and Dennis.

Day 6: Visiting Debrah's family in Nasipit, Mindanao, Philippines

Wednesday, Sept. 21, 2016

Notice General Luna, Siargao to the top right (NE). Boat from Dapa to Surigao City takes 2 hours.

Although our time in Siargao was much too short, at least Debrah and I got up early and walked across the street to the beach. The tide was high enough to swim, completing the picture of paradise: white sandy beach, graceful palms, clear aqua blue warm water. The young guy I’d gone horseback riding with last time was bringing his horses to graze in the cemetery.

Leading a horse to pasture in the cemetery.

Enjoying an early morning swim in crystal clear warm ocean water.

Underwater action.

We didn’t want to leave, but we had to catch a boat at 10:30 a.m. Catherine’s neighbors were up early, preparing dead pigs for lechon, the traditional whole pig roasted on a stick and another one to be cut up and cooked. There was also a whole carabao, similar to beef, with its bloody head looking at us. If I hadn’t decided to stop eating meat already, this gory scene would have been enough to convince me. The neighbors invited us to stick around and enjoy the feast, but we politely declined.

Lechon or BBQ pig is popular at any fiesta in the Philippines

Heads or tails? Carabao meat completes the feast.

Debrah and I flagged down a habal-habal or covered motorcycle taxi. The three of us plus our bags fit easily, and the ride to the port town of Dapa was a pleasant 30 minutes. There were surprisingly few restaurants, but we finally found one that served all meat dishes and a vegetable omelette, which I ordered. It arrived, kind of greasy and semi-ruined by a large dose of fish sauce. At least the mango-banana smoothie was great. Debrah ordered the typical Filipino breakfast: garlic rice, fried egg, and sweet pork sausage.

Debrah and I and our baggage fit easily on this habal habal taxi.

The 2-1/2 hour boat ride back to Surigao is beautiful, passing numerous tiny islands, some inhabited, others pure nature. A jeepney ride to the bus terminal where I sampled a local hot sweet thick coconut, banana, sweet potato drink called binignit with some friendly locals. Then a 4-hour bus to Butuan and another jeepney to Debrah’s family home in Nasipit. I’d never met her parents, two younger sisters and their grandpa, but I felt like I already knew them from Debrah’s stories and posts on Facebook. Her father had prepared some special vegetarian dishes for me while everyone else enjoyed rice, fish and chicken.

After dinner Debrah’s police officer boyfriend Harison showed up with mango-flavored ice cream. We walked downtown, which was humming with pre-fiesta activity, games, rides, singers and dancers. Everyone but Debrah’s mom rode the giant swinging pirate ship and screamed as it swung higher and higher. Having just jumped out of plane at 8000 feet the week before, I tried to remind myself that this was relatively safe. But it did feel like we might get flipped at any moment. The father, boyfriend and I all took turns shooting a BB gun at a target. I have to admit, I’m not a bad shot. But none of my shots quite hit dead center so I didn’t win the “junk food.” No kidding, that’s how they listed the prize.

Debrah's dad shoots a BB Gun, hoping to win the "junk food" prizes at a local carnival, while Debrah, her sisters and boyfriend Harison look on.

Of course I had to take my turn. I hate guns, except for target practice.

That target had no idea who he was messing with. No bullseye, but several close ones.

Debrah's younger sister Darianne enjoys the kiddie rides, but they all screamed on the swinging boat ride.

Debrah has been living and working in Cebu City for three years. She visits home two times a year, so this was a big treat for her to spend time with family. I was impressed by how close her family is. Only Cha Cha the dog wasn’t so sure about me, but everyone else welcomed me with open arms and was excited to practice their English. Their house is quite nice and two-story, but they apologized for no water. It wasn’t a problem because they fill buckets in the morning when there is water. I was given the big double bed in an upstairs room with AC and promptly fell asleep. It wasn’t until 4:00 a.m. when the jet lag monster woke me up that I realized that Debrah, her mom and youngest sister were all asleep on a pad on the floor beside me.

They gave me the only bedroom with AC, then all crowded on the floor beside the big bed where I slept alone.

Day 7: Buena Vista Beach with Debrah and Harison's Families, Mindano, Philippines

Thursday, Sept. 22, 2016

Harison's and Debrah's families organized a big beach party for my visit. With the good food, good company, music and ocean it was a great day.

Riding the jeepney from Nasipit to Buena Vista in northern Mindanao, Philippines

In Harison's family's house in Buena Vista. I loved the trees in the middle of the house.

While everyone else rode on motorcycles and motorized tricycles to the beach, I was excited to borrow Harison's bike.

The women all contributed food for the feast.

As a concession to me, the women prepared some vegetable dishes, although meat and rice were the main courses.

Harison and his whole family are all musicians. We sang together till long after dark.

The men mixed brandy and Jamaican lime juice in a unique way. Six bottles later, the men were quite happy. I was glad to go back to Harison's house by bike.

Thanks to both families for organizing such a great beach party, with food, music and ocean.

Debrah's boyfriend Harison (in sunglasses) with his parents and two brothers.

Harison's wonderful parents who I'd first met when they were on holiday in Cebu City.

Harison's brother Jong and girlfriend Meriam.

Debrah's little sister Darianne with one of Harison's cousins.

Some guy we don't know was doing flip after flip on the beach.

The kids and I spent a lot of time in the water, but none of the other adults.

Some of the cousins had to leave early to go to school, but for most it was a holiday.

Beautiful daughter and mother.

The three sisters goofing off for the camera.

Spending time with family is special, especially since Debrah works in Cebu City and can't visit often.

After the beach party Harison's family took us out to their local halo halo cafe. Usually halo halo is made with shaved ice, but this style is richer with ube or mango ice cream.