Hobos in Manila

A block from the embassy, there is an Australian hotel. The name is Swagman, an old Australian word for "hobo". I heard about Swagman from a military man with a southern accent who rode my shuttle home one evening. On that shuttle ride, my roommate and I were complaining about the fact that the embassy cafeteria had closed, leaving us one fewer option for lunch, supper, and every meal in between. Later, a reliable source informed me that there were cockroaches in the cafeteria kitchen, bringing an abrupt end to my complaining.

The military man leaned over and drawled, "Boys, there's a Australian hotel about a block from the embassy. Every Monday and Friday, they have a great buffet. You oughta check it out."

So we did. The next Friday, my roommate left the guarded walls of the US Embassy, sprinted across Roxas Boulevard, dodging cars, buses, jeepneys, and those frickin' pedicabs that drive the wrong way down the street, and walked a block to the Hotel Swagman.

On the wall facing the street, a sign read "Welcome to the Outback!" A kangaroo stood watch by the door. We walked inside to see a bar and a small seating area. A waitress quickly greeted us.

"Good morning sir!" She motioned us to a table and showed us the menu.
"No thanks," I said, putting the menu back on the table. "I'll just have the buffet."
"Oh, I'm sorry sir."
"Oh, you don't have a buffet?"
"Yes sir."

My roommate quickly explained. "Oh, umm, one of our friends just told us that you had a buffet every Monday and Friday."
"Yes sir."
"Wait..." He paused. "Isn't today Friday?"
"Yes sir."
"But there's no buffet?"
"Yes sir."

I looked up to see an 8 foot crocodile mounted on the wall above me. The food was quite good, especially the $12 steaks. We've eaten there half a dozen times since, bringing back more interns each time.

The last time we ate there, we paid our bill around 1:00 and stood up to leave. As we walked through the door and past the kangaroo, we were hit with a gust of wind and torrential rain. We stood there for a moment, watching the wind peel the aluminum off the construction site next door. The streets began to flood, and we retreated past the kangaroo.

As we stood inside the doorway, the power went out. The generators whirred to life, and we stood some more. Five minutes later, I turned around, walked through the small seating area, and stepped into the bar. I ordered a Red Horse and watched the US play the World in baseball on ESPN while the rest of the interns waited patiently by the door.

Around 1:45, the rest of the interns walked into the bar. The US was losing. A few of us agreed to pay some guy 100 pesos ($2) to drive us back through the remnant of wind and rain, through the flooded streets of Manila, at the southwestern edge of Typhoon Helen, to the guarded walls of the US Embassy.