A Swedish Fellow in Asia E-Book

Goeran B Johansson

• Herausgeber: Books on Demand
• Kategorie: Ratgeber
• Sprache: Englisch

Seitenzahl: 260

Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2021

Beschreibung

Johan has a boring life out in the country. He is lonely, unemployed, and no longer noticeably young. One day, he is asked by the employment service to apply for a job as a data administrator on a dating site. When he checks his intended workplace, his interest in seeking contact with women is aroused. He falls for a charming young woman named Doralel. The interest is mutual. So, Johan travels to Manila, where Doralel lives. But already, on the very first day, he is subjected to attempted kidnapping. He begins to suspect that Doralel is behind ... "

Leseprobe

Content

Prologue. In Sweden

Doralel

One year later

Sambonita

Lady acquaintances in Cebu

New meetings

Marites

Lareci

The engagement

Everyday life in Cebu

The journey

Bargirls in Angeles City

Ladyboys

Lymene

Among people

Cherrie

To Olango

Melanie

Violin Erotica

Lizelle and Jackie

Diving in Thailand

Dengue fever

Larizza

Displeasure

About the author

Prologue. In Sweden

The mail van appeared behind the birches and stopped next to a row of suspended mailboxes, so close that the woman behind the wheel could reach out and feed them with various items without leaving the car. That went quickly. A few seconds later, the car was gone.

Then it was time to pick up the mail. Old Evert would soon step out of his little red cottage, a rebuilt former railway cottage from the time when there was a train station in the village and the trains were entitled to stop there. Now the village has shrunk, and the station was demolished. The train track was still there and was also upgraded over the years, but the trains did not stop here anymore; they only thundered past at high speed on the way to the Northern part of Sweden.

So, Evert on his crooked legs was first. Then came Karin. Straight in the back, still smooth in the face despite her eighty-three years, friendly and talkative. They stood there on the highway talking for a while—two old, since long ago lonely people who have been neighbors for over forty years. It looked as if there was not much to talk about today, so soon, they were gone too.

I went out and picked up the mail: some colorful flyers that would go into the trash right away and a letter.

The letter was from the Swedish Public Employment Service. I was required to apply for the E-contact data administrator position. It was a new challenge for me, a unique opportunity for an aging unemployed PC technician. Thanks for that. It came to change my life completely.

I checked the international dating sites that the employer recommended to me. They looked exciting. I applied for the job at E-contact, and while waiting for an answer, I also started looking for contact with women on some of the dating sites. Many good-looking foreign women were willing to hang out with older men.

As soon as I got out of bed in the morning, I started the computer and the coffee maker. But the coffee had to wait. I was so excited to hear from my lady acquaintances and exchange a few words with them. I feverishly devoured every single textline from these beauties. I responded directly. The time passed quickly in front of the screen. I did not get the job, but all the better several contacts with attractive women.

Even after I later got a job at a computer support company, I continued with my contacts online. It became like a habit and a pleasure to meet these beauties in the virtual world until the time was ripe for more down-to-earth touch.

Doralel

On a September day, I arrived in Manila, the Philippines, to explore the terrain and meet Doralel, twenty-nine years old.

On the plane, an Airbus 330, which would take me to Kuala Lumpur in Malaysia in the first stage, I was very well cared for by the elegant cabin crew. The flight attendants at Malaysia Airlines provided good service with soft magical Spanish background guitar music, which sounded from the speaker system. It was Asturias Leyenda by Isaac Albeniz from Suite Española, performed by Andrés Segovia. I knew that recording from before, and I could not miss his unique style. By the way, I play the piece myself on guitar, which made me feel really at home on board.

When I stepped out of the next plane, a Boeing landed at Ninoy Aquino International Airport in Manila, the balmy tropical summer heat hit me, and it felt like going into a cooling sauna. I was currently wearing my favorite outfit on all trips, a doublelined light blue elegant sports suit that I had previously purchased during a visit to Estonia. It was insanely hot outside, but on the plane, it was comfortable and pleasant to wear. Now I stood in queues for a long time and sweated through the passage at the passport control before I arrived at the taxi station. I did not have much luggage, only a trunk and a laptop backpack, but I still got help and gave the wearer a penny.

I sat down comfortably in the taxi, and the journey began towards central Manila, a metropolis in twenty-third place in the world order of magnitude with about twelve million inhabitants. The city consists of four districts and sixteen municipalities, and the largest are Quezon City, City of Manila, and Kalookan City. Traffic was incredibly intense, and four lanes in each direction were not nearly enough. The car queue crept forward for a few seconds and then stood still for five minutes at the traffic lights. So, it took a good while to get to the City of Manila and the hotel where I pre-booked my room via the Internet.

During the journey in a state-of-the-art air-conditioned taxi, I looked curiously at the urban buildings that usually consisted of steel and concrete buildings with neon signs in a prominent position wherever I looked. And so many Western Union bank branches as well as all sorts of branch companies to send money. Palawan Pawnshop, Cebuana Lhuillier, M Lhuillier, Kwarta Padala, and LBC, to name a few. The taxi driver explained that many Filipinos work abroad and send money to their relatives here at home. But one also sends cash within the country with the help of these send-money offices.

I use Western Union when I send money to Doralel. There were several hundred bucks every month. The family needed an electricity meter for the home, a close relative was to be buried, and Doralel wanted to take a massage course. But what promising emails I received from her alongside the nagging about financial help! She would give me a massage in the right place with both hands. This started my imagination, and now it becomes a reality.

The taxi driver turned onto a cross street in an attempt to avoid the worst queues, and the city revealed its backside. There were small sheds where people sat close together and ate or just sat out on the street on the curb, and as soon as the taxi stopped at a traffic light, they came around the car and begged for money or wanted to sell something. But the driver had locked all the doors via the central lock; otherwise, he explained, someone could tear open the door and take luggage or threaten with a knife and rob both the driver and the passengers.

The hotel was magnificent with marble floors and the walls covered with still lifes of various kinds with Goya and Rembrandt's reproductions. Here there were also portraits of Manuel Luis Quezón y Molina, the country's President during the 1930s and 1940s, and Ferdinand Marcos, who had been President of the Philippines for twenty-one years during the 1960s and 1980s.

Of the soft armchairs in the vestibule, I then chose to settle down in the one that looked most fluffy and appealing, not least thanks to its lovely green color, which is my favorite. That armchair became my companion while I waited for Doralel to arrive. During check-in, I was well cared for by a young man behind the reception's heavy mahogany counter. But it struck me that he patterned me a little too carefully, and I wondered why. I would understand that only later in the evening.

I was very expectant as I sat there waiting for Doralel to come. I remembered the time in the Yahoo chat and her wonderfully beautiful face and lips. Just as I was thinking and dreaming away in my imagination, she suddenly appeared right in front of me.

Oh, how small she was and how surprised she looked, where she slipped into the vestibule in a light blue coat and with a pink headscarf around her beautiful little head. Under the cloak, you could discern a transparent verdigris green dress.

She was wearing high-heeled winged shoes, so I had to support her when she came up to me, and we hugged lightly, and a fleeting kiss touched our lips.

The first thing I heard was that I looked handsome and much younger than in all the photos she had previously received.

Yes, I certainly look much older in photos than in reality, but that with handsome, it has in the Philippines a different meaning than just attractive or good-looking.

For Filipinos, it is primarily a question of a sense of security in being solvent. And we are all solvent in Sweden, according to the Philippine standard.

Doralel and I went up to the room, which was very luxurious for the forty bucks per night it cost. Cool armchairs, a teddy bear sofa and a cable TV as well as the Internet, a bar cabinet, and the whole caboodle.

The bed looked extremely appealing already now, and I want to emphasize this strongly. It was of a King-size model, extensive in other words, covered with a light-yellow bedspread, in which fabric a kind of floral marquetry with different colored roses was sewn. Tasteful, I thought, and the color also went perfectly with Doralel's dark skin and black hair. The frame was made of solid mahogany-like wooden material, and each headboard was decorated with an erotically similar thing. The bed gave a solid erotic impression.

I saw clearly in front of me how we would lie down on this beautiful bed together soon, and I was already worried that I would not be able to perform as a man must in such a situation.

Once we had moved there, we kissed for a long time. I can also say right now that Filipinos like to kiss, except for those who are only looking for a temporary connection and are even married or cohabiting.

After we put behind us what can automatically happen in such an erotically hot moment, which arose here rather quickly, that is, the erotic prelude and was about to begin the final phase of the first stage of night adventures, the well-proven missionary position, or Basic in English, yes, then it went faster than fast, I really want to emphasize that with sharpness.

But that the intrusion would lead to such a hassle, I had not expected that anyway. She was so tight, so I thought I would never be able to penetrate her secret place, and she moaned wildly, but after various maneuvers and with the help of the tool of the tongue, it went well in the end. But what a feeling it was to come to terms with such a charming young woman as she, I with my sixty-two years on my neck already and who had not tasted the joys of eroticism for several years. Yes, you probably understand what pressure I had on myself and my performance in this hot moment.

When we later relaxed on the bed and could talk to each other after the initial dramatic moment was over, well, then suddenly the phone rang.

I asked Doralel to answer. She spoke Tagalog1, and I did not understand anything, but I saw that she became tense and anxious and sounded insecure. After she hung up, she nervously said that an unknown woman had asked her to come down to the foyer with six hundred dollars or I would be kidnapped. If I called the police, they would still take me in the end, she was told. I had enough money, and I had no choice but to give Doralel this amount. After she went and lingered for quite a long time, I thought that now she blew me correctly and that I would never see her again.

It all felt so unreal. I waited and waited, and meanwhile, I thought that all those who had warned me about the Philippines before I left would be right, but suddenly I heard voices and the trampling of boot heels or other heavier footwear, and she came back now. Although not alone but in the company of the hotel's security chief, and not only that but the Philippine terrorist command was also involved.

Doralel looked now so small and unhappy in her verdigris dress, and her face was still worried but now with a tone of outrage. She explained that the front desk had called the police, who had asked for a further description. When the hotel staff announced that a foreigner was threatened with kidnapping, the police had requested reinforcements from SWAT (Special Weapons and Tactics), the Philippine Terrorism Command, based on the American model. I was now, although I already have good experience of military equipment from my time in the Swedish army during the recruit and in the United Nations Forces in Cyprus, UNFICYP in the late 1960s, a little confused but also overexcited. As far as I could see, there came probably six soldiers dressed in black full coverage suits and with a kind of battle harness, where they kept extra magazine for their automatic carbines of, M16 type, and pistols of Glock 17, 9 mm model. All wore bulletproof vests and helmets with visors. The SWAT- commandant, a short, next to quadrilateral, well-trained and tanned officer who gave an excellent and such quiet, dignified impression on me, explained in good English that I must stay indoors until the area was secured. They had blocked off the hotel and placed snipers on the roof, the commander told me, and we were asked to stay in the room together. Yes, now I was more than confused, and I thought this could be the case in various crime and action movies, but not in reality, right? But this was reality and not a fictional world, so I was too unsure how everything would end.

Doralel and I went in again, and I wondered what I had gotten me into here in the Philippines. What a drama! But we did not have much else to do, so we went to work once again in the magnificent bed, but this time well-guarded by two Filipino SWAT commandos standing guard outside the door, so what could happen to us?

Nothing happened, but we were soon taken together in SWAT's armored vehicle with a motorcycle escort to another hotel in another part of the town, namely Quezon City.

The police told me that it could be an insider job, and I strongly suspected the guy at the reception who had looked at me so vaguely when I arrived and then made a call on the spot.

However, the police suspected Abu Sayyaf 2supporters were behind it all but diplomatically added that it could also be purely

criminal gangs who saw their chance for a penny. So now we were in a safer place, and there began the third phase in the thicket of eroticism. It was a ride up to the clouds and a little more. We stayed at the hotel in Quezon City for about a week out of the three that I would be staying here this time.

I was eventually invited home to the family who lived in Quezon City. I was deeply shocked. What a crowd and so many poor indigent people, of whom too many with too many teeth missing in the mouth. On both sides of the streets, which were narrow, there was one tiny shop after another, and these were so-called sari-sari stores, a type of small store with a general universal range for the small Filipino household.

The narrow streets were cluttered with tricycles, a Filipino tricycle propelled by a motorcycle with an attachment consisting of an accessory for passengers that can usually accommodate five people, but sometimes up to ten, depending upon in which city you are. Around these tricycles, people walked back and forth around each other in a motley crowd. The taxi had to crawl forward, pushing the masses against the stalls. There was no sidewalk.

Quezon City, named after the third president of the Philippines, Manuel Quezon, is the largest district in Metro Manila with more than two million inhabitants, but it is also the poorest. The water from the taps is undrinkable, and you have to buy purified ditto in shops that sell it in containers of different sizes—what poverty, but still, what joy and kindness existed among these people!

We decided that I would move to Doralel, and instead of paying at the hotel, I gave money to Doralel so that she could build a new room in the house. Doralel had long wanted to have her room alone and feel that she had integrity protected from transparency. Now I could help her because I did not have to pay a high hotel fee in a, albeit luxurious, yet impersonal accommodation. Everything went well, but I can get quite loud in the heat of the erotic battle, and it suited less healthy here. The walls were made of only simple Masonite slabs that freely emitted all kinds of sounds in this spawn of houses that seemed to be stuck entirely in each other. Something to look at for the inspectors of the Swedish building standard.

In the morning after the first night, when Doralel treated me like a woman should treat a man even in Sweden, yes, I got to see staring eyes, especially from her mother, who looked utterly ruined. Doralel spoke in shame that the whole neighborhood had heard how we rejoiced and flourished in our tiny room for two hundred dollars.

-You are too noisy; it's not going well, Johan, she told sublimely.

Doralel also wanted a computer, so I bought a desktop history for twenty-seven thousand pesos or about four hundred dollars. A total power package it was.

The family was poor, and the mother worked temporarily in the district office, and the father had no job at all. The son-in-law, who had a fixed income, ensured that all of the ten people in the family, including his wife and children, would have food on the table. Family solidarity is the cornerstone. The young must provide for the elderly, and the eldest daughter in the family has a tremendous responsibility. Otherwise, you are referred to aid organizations of various kinds or to individual wealthy donors, where arbitrariness will be decisive for whether you get something or not.

There is an American society model here, and everyone must take out private insurance, which they could not afford in this family. Doralel´s mother once said to me: “If you do not have money, then you die.”

Yes, absolutely, I do not hesitate at all.

Getting to the toilet was extremely difficult. You had to go more or less sideways through crawling almost by hashing. Then to find the matchbox in the dark because it was too dark around the clock, light the candle and sit there while the neighbor could see in was worryingly worse. And it was so wet on the floor that you would have needed your flippers on.

We often sat outside with the men in the family and the neighbors and talked while we drank beer. When I once mentioned the name of the then President of the Philippines, they exclaimed with one mouth:

-She is corruption. No 13. Look at us, so poor we are, and she is so rich.

In the kitchen, good food was cooked, at my expense, of course, but it was worth it. These were traditional Filipino fish dishes, mainly mixed with one or two lonely chicken legs.

After three weeks, I left Doralel and the family with sadness in my heart and missed the Filipino hospitality and courtesy when I went back to Sweden and to work.

1 Tagalog – a national language of the Philippines. Spoken throughout the Philippines.

2 Abu Sayyaf, a militarily organized Islamist separatist group operating in Mindanao, in the area around Zamboanga, Basilan, Sulu and the Jolo Islands, with the main objective of establishing an Islamic republic in Mindanao. Kidnapping of foreigners is used as a means.

3 Gloria Macapagal Arroyo.

One year later

It took a year before Doralel and I met again. On the way to the Philippines, I stayed in Thailand for a week. There I had contacted a sturdy and robust woman, Chow. She lived in a small village outside Nakhon Ratchasima, or as the city is also called Korat. She had a large rice farm there with the whole family.

Chow was a robust woman and had equally vital humor as well as a fantastic incomparable butt too. Did anyone know how to suck money? Well, then she did. I only had eyes for her, but she said she had to work because she ran a food stand up by the small village square. And what delicious food it was! What should I do? Yes, I offered her to compensate for the loss of her income if she instead concentrated on taking care of me.

During the day, we took long walks around her family's property as she inspected the land. We could walk hand in hand, and an occasional kiss could also be when we came under a leafy tree.

But I wanted to get her in bed too, so I stood up for myself, for such a heavily loaded but also chubby and massive butt that she had, her and this one, I wanted to be with at night as well.

But look, it did not work, well, she probably could have accepted it in a big city in a hotel, but she persisted and said that here in the village, they would talk too much, so it was just not possible.

So, there I lay at night in the guest room for a whole week while she never even came to me. On the other hand, I had to pay three hundred dollars for room and service for a week without that little extra. It was an evident disappointment, but it was still nice because I knew that I would soon come down to Doralel in the Philippines.

Later, I arrived in Manila and a guest house on Mabini Street on the Baywalk near the harbor area. It is a unique magical atmosphere there, and when I left the taxi, checked in to my room, rested for a while, and had dinner at an outdoor cafe next to the hotel, I went out on the street to take a flare of my Rolling cigarettes that I took with me from the old Svedala4. I never smoke during the day, but I can take a smoke after dinner on trips, which was just such an occasion. I must have been standing there for a while, waiting for Doralel to arrive by taxi from Quezon City. It took longer than expected, so I stumbled on the sidewalk from time to time. After a while, a rather well-built and curvy lady came up to me, leaned towards me, and asked:

-Do you want a massage? I can give you everything you want. Maybe you want bombom?

I nodded but wondered what bombom was for some phenomenon.

-Tell me, young lady, what's bombom? I asked curiously.

-Well, my Lord, it's having sex together. Does my Lord want to have this with me? She continued, mischievously smiling while she let me look down into her neckline.

-Ah, I felt a bit shocked. Now I was offered some sexual services but definitely did not want to accept the offer, as I was waiting for Doralel, who would arrive in a taxi at any moment. But I was still curious, so I asked:

-Okay. What prices and what services can the lady offer?

-First, I can give my Lord whole-body massage for two hundred pesos 5 as well as foot-, hand- or head massage, one hundred pesos each, manicure for toe- or hand nails, fifty pesos for each. But if my Lord then wants more specific, if not outright, erotic massage, then I can offer penis massage with one hand, three hundred pesos, with two hands, depending on how giant your phallus is, four hundred pesos, blowjob, holding it in the mouth when the orgasm comes, five hundred pesos and the last moment, which is bombom with a condom, six hundred pesos and without a condom, eight hundred pesos. I assure my Lord that I have an outstanding experience and can quickly get you excited. By the way, bombom goes extremely fast, so do not worry at all. I will take good care of my Lord, who I think looks very virile, handsome, and well-behaved.

Oh well, I was impressed with her offer, and besides, she rattled up the whole register automatically, which indicated that she had been on the go for a long time.

-Oh, unfortunately, I said. I'm waiting for my girlfriend, who's just approaching.

-No problem at all, the woman replied. We're going to my Lord's room, and the girlfriend can wait outside for so long.

Ha-ha, I was dumbfounded. What an incredible ability the lady had developed!

-No, it's not possible, I replied servilely, at which point she looked at me disappointed, so I gave her a hundred pesos for food and her detailed creative presentation.

She was happy and grateful, and I could breathe for a while. But I had to go in again pretty soon since one woman, sexier than the other, greeted me feverishly, and I took refuge in the hotel room and its security.

On this occasion, Doralel and I went to Cebu to visit her uncle. I have probably not seen a more impoverished environment down here. At least ten children and his wife had no teeth in her mouth but an infant in her arms. Almost no food, more than what we bought for them. No decorative items in the room and hardly any furniture at all. But what a relaxed atmosphere and joy of life there was, after all! And soon, an old guitar came out, and it became music for the whole penny.

A guitar ... I had my own on the trip. One day we were sitting on a colorful beach rug: Doralel and I. A tragically curved coconut tree nearby, yellow sand, the sea that breathed warmth, and a radiant sun high up in the clear blue sky, a living image that would make many tourists lose their breath. I reached for the guitar. I started playing for my girlfriend. Not only did I transform the joy into tones, but I also wanted to impress as well. I am surprisingly good at playing guitar. I played a Spanish tango in original for classical guitar, which sounds exceptionally intensely dramatic and melodic in its character. It was written by the Spanish guitar composer Francisco Tárrega at the turn of the last century. But the joy was replaced by disappointment when Doralel turned her back on me, reached for her bag, and met my fascinating tones and loving gaze by biting into a juicy hamburger.

I got mad. The guitar fell silent. She looked at me with a sad look, tried to explain that she was hungry for food. But the romance was blown away. Her appreciation of my musical skills never came to light.

The music session was interrupted, but our journey together continued. We visited the island of Bohol with the famous Chocolate Hills and were on a jungle river trip and saw the tiny tarsiers, a small ghost animal, species that live in different areas of the Philippines. Mainly in the Visayas and especially in Bohol. In Cebuano,6 it is called mawmag.

I noticed already in Bohol that Doralel was a bit rejected because at the hotel, after showering one evening, I came out from the room with the heat-seeking moisture missile in a high position, but then she simply turned her back and said she was tired and wanted to sleep.

My holiday was over, and I went back to Sweden with some confidence to work as I then thought a few more years before returning for good to Southeast Asia. But it got faster than that. Already after a few months, I could take out my pension and stop working in the future.

4 Old Svedala or just Svedala is a playful, colloquial paraphrase for the country Sweden. According to linguists, it can probably be traced to Swedish-American emigrants in the 19th century.

5 One hundred pesos is about two dollars.

6 Cebuano - a language spoken in Cebu and the entire Visayas region.

Sambonita

I arrived in Manila and the guest house on Mabini Street for the third time, but this time with all the luggage consisting of a trunk, a guitar, a violin, and a laptop backpack, and even now, I was waiting for Doralel to come.

Finally, she came, and we went to my room, where I would start the usual preparation, but I was not allowed to sleep with her this time. Her father considered we should marry, she said. She was sluggish and uninterested, just nagging about expensive gifts. I bought a cell phone for her and ended the relationship.

During the evening at the hotel's restaurant, I encountered an elderly gentleman from Switzerland. We talked a lot when suddenly a Filipino beauty appeared in the restaurant. She was the Swiss´ partner, Sambonita from Palawan, a long, narrow island located just west of Luzon and Visayas Islands.

They sat opposite each other with their common seven-year-old daughter, but I soon noticed that the atmosphere was highly hostile between them. They barely spoke to each other, and Sambonita looked at me more and more intensely.

The Swiss disappeared to their room soon, but Sambonita remained and told the whole story of the man she had a daughter with, adding that the relationship had ended utterly.

I thought Sambonita was very handsome, and above all, she was deeply knowledgeable in history and geopolitics, which are my favorite subjects. Suddenly she interrupted me:

-Can't we take a walk to the Baywalk together?

I just blinked for a second and said:

-But you have a partner here with you. What will he say?

-He does not care. He is so bored and just wants to sleep.

We were to meet a while later, but I did not see her, so I went to a disco on the other side of Mabini Street. I sat down at a table, and suddenly two gorgeous Filipino women came dimming down next to me. I got happy. We drank a drink which I paid, though afterward, I noticed that I was deceived twice by the staff at the discotheque.