ARTICLE | Why Are Filipinos Considered the Friendliest People — Even When We Don’t Feel Like It?

Quite recently, I found myself doing what I do best when I’m avoiding my own thoughts: scrolling.

Somewhere between outfit videos and unsolicited life advice, a viral street interview popped up. Filmed in Europe. Casual. Harmless. The question was simple:

Which country has the friendliest people?

I barely registered it—until the Philippines came out on top.
Thailand followed closely behind.

I paused.
I rewound.
I watched it again.

And as a Filipino, my first reaction wasn’t pride.

It was confusion.

Are we… really that friendly?

Because if I’m being honest—with myself, and now with you—Filipinos aren’t exactly radiating warmth toward each other on a daily basis. Most days, we’re tired. Or distracted. Or quietly annoyed. We’re polite, yes. Rarely hostile, sure. But friendly? That word felt… optimistic.

I’ve always thought our warmth was selective. Earned. Contextual. Not something we hand out freely like free Wi-Fi.

Then, just this week, I found myself in Thailand—and suddenly that old question followed me halfway across Southeast Asia.

I started paying attention.

In shops.
In cafés.
In public spaces.

Everyone was polite. Calm. Respectful. No one raised their voice. No one cut in line. No one made me feel unwelcome.

But something was different.

The warmth felt… muted.

Pleasant, yes.
Kind, absolutely.
But not the expressive, chatty, joke-with-a-stranger friendliness people so often associate with Filipinos.

And that contrast stayed with me.

So I started wondering:

Is friendliness something you feel—or something you perceive?
And how much of it depends on language, culture, and expectation?

Naturally, I did what any modern woman with unanswered questions would do. I looked it up.

And instead of clarity, I found confirmation—mixed with discomfort.

For years now, global surveys have consistently ranked the Philippines among the friendliest countries in the world, especially toward foreigners. Thailand, too, regularly lands near the top.

The InterNations Expat Insider Survey ranked the Philippines 3rd globally for “Ease of Settling In.” Thailand wasn’t far behind.
Another global expat survey placed the Philippines as one of the easiest places in the world to make friends.
US News & World Report echoed the same sentiment.

On paper, it all sounds flattering.

Until you notice one small but crucial detail hiding in plain sight:

These rankings are almost entirely based on foreign perspectives.

Not how locals experience each other.
But how visitors experience us.

And suddenly, everything made sense.

Filipinos are often called friendly because of how we treat foreigners—not necessarily how we treat fellow Filipinos.

Expats talk about how easy it is to strike up conversations here. How people smile, joke, help without being asked. How casual everything feels.

And, of course, how widely English is spoken.

That part matters more than we admit.

English removes friction. It lets humor land. It makes small talk effortless. It creates instant familiarity. We seem open not just because we are—but because we’re understood.

That friendliness is highly visible, especially in tourist spaces. But it doesn’t always reflect everyday local life.

Because among Filipinos themselves, there’s a quieter truth many of us recognize but rarely say out loud:

We’re often warmer to outsiders than to each other.

Maybe it’s because our emotional energy is reserved for family and barkada.
Maybe it’s cultural concepts like hiya and pakikisama—politeness without vulnerability.
Or maybe it’s just life: traffic, work, rising costs, emotional burnout.

Our warmth usually shows up after familiarity—not before.

So yes, Filipinos can be cheerful and welcoming. But that friendliness is often situational. Sometimes performative. Always contextual.

Thailand, on the other hand, feels different—not colder, just quieter.

Thais are deeply polite. Respectful. Non-confrontational. Interactions are calm and measured. There’s space. There are boundaries.

Unlike Filipinos, who might joke with a stranger or overshare five minutes in, Thais tend to maintain respectful distance.

It doesn’t feel unkind.
It feels intentional.

Warmth exists—but it’s expressed subtly, not loudly.

And once again, language changes everything.

In the Philippines, shared English creates instant connection.
In Thailand, limited shared language can unintentionally create distance—even when intentions are warm.

When communication flows easily, friendliness feels natural.
When it doesn’t, even genuine kindness can feel reserved.

So what tourists often call “friendliness” might actually be a blend of linguistic comfort and cultural expressiveness.

So… are Filipinos really the friendliest?

I think the answer depends on who you ask.

To foreigners and expats: overwhelmingly, yes.
To fellow Filipinos: not always—and not consistently.
Compared to Thailand: Filipinos may appear warmer, while Thais appear quieter but deeply respectful.

Friendliness isn’t universal. It’s shaped by language, culture, stress, familiarity, and expectation.

Seeing the Philippines labeled the “friendliest country” can feel strange—even uncomfortable—for many locals. And that discomfort is valid. These rankings reflect how the world experiences us, not how we experience each other.

Maybe Filipinos are friendly in the way the world sees us: open, approachable, easy to talk to.

But friendliness at home is more complicated.

And maybe that’s the real insight I keep circling back to:

Friendliness isn’t about constant warmth.
It’s about how, when, and to whom we choose to show it.

JOURNAL | The Guy Who Never Came Back

Some men come into your life for a night. Some men come in for a week. And some men… think they can just sprint in, get what they want, and vanish like Houdini.

That was him - the Grindr guy.

We’d been chatting on Grindr for almost a month — half-Pakistani, half-Turkish, tall, hairy, the kind of man who makes you think, Yes, yes, yes. I didn’t expect him to actually show up that night. It was almost midnight. In this city, men at midnight are usually either drunk, desperate, or delusional. Spoiler alert: he wasn't any of the three.

He arrived. Cute, confident, hair in all the right places… and smelling like he had personally wrestled a basket of onions. Yes, it was gross. Yes, it was intoxicating. I’ll admit it: sometimes stinky can be sexy. And honey, I know sexy when I smell it.

He made his intentions clear, and let’s just say… I obliged. We were two consenting adults in a city that doesn’t exactly encourage this kind of freedom, and for a few minutes, it was fun, raw, hot — everything you'll want about a man.

Then came the classic move: “I just need to grab condoms from my car.”

Oh. Honey. Let me translate: I’m about to bail, but I want to pretend I’m responsible.

I told him I wasn’t interested in anything more. He insisted. He pulled on some shorts, bolted out the door, and never came back. Not a text. Not a peep. Gone. Like smoke. Like my patience in his presence.

And I laughed. Oh yes, I laughed.

Because here’s the thing: men who run mid-pleasure, mid-adventure, mid-anything - They’re not mysterious, they’re just pathetic. And I? I don’t chase. I don’t beg. I don’t wait by doors.

I deleted his messages. And then I poured myself a glass of wine, turned on some music, and went about my night — exactly the way a guy who knows his worth does.

In the Middle East, desire is complicated. Men are complicated. But I don't do complicated. I do pleasure. Fun. Freedom.

PAGEANT | Miss Universe 2025: A Crown, A Crisis & A Turning Point for Global Pageantry

Bangkok, Thailand — Long before the new Miss Universe took her victory walk under the glittering lights of Impact Challenger Hall, it was clear that this year’s pageant would not be remembered solely for the beauty, gowns, or final question. Miss Universe 2025 became a collision point—between tradition and modernity, between spectacle and accountability, and between a well-rehearsed global production and the messy realities of human behavior under pressure. At the center of it all stood Fátima Bosch of Mexico, now wearing one of the world’s most recognizable crowns. Graceful, composed, and visibly emotional, she accepted her win in a hall buzzing with cheers, whispered rumors, and the fresh scent of controversy still lingering from backstage.

ARTICLE | A Critique of Mandatory HIV Testing for Residency Renewal

For many expatriates, myself included, renewing a resident visa comes with a familiar routine: undergoing a mandatory medical test. On the surface, this requirement appears to be just another bureaucratic step in maintaining legal status. Yet, when revealed, the test is often focused almost exclusively on HIV. This focus raises serious ethical, human rights, and public health questions.

THE QUIET CORNER | Existing But Not Living

The past few days, I’ve noticed something unsettling about myself. It feels like I’ve degenerated. Not in the dramatic, world-ending kind of way, but in the quiet, almost invisible sense where you suddenly realize that the spark you once carried has dimmed into something you can barely feel anymore. I used to look forward to people. Conversations. Even the things I once loved doing. Now, when I come home after a long day, all I want to do is collapse into bed. No music, no books, no hobbies, no laughter — just the dead weight of exhaustion pressing me into my mattress. Is this depression? Or is it some kind of soul crush — that strange emptiness where you’re not exactly broken, but you’re not alive either. Days roll into each other, and the future doesn’t even glimmer. It just looks… blank.

ARTICLE | What We Talk About When We Talk About La Union

There’s a particular kind of exhaustion that doesn’t come from long bus rides or late-night drinks—it comes from showing up for people who don’t show up for you. I didn’t know that would be the takeaway when I said yes to a spontaneous Labor Day trip to La Union. All I knew then was that my last few weeks had been a blur of overpriced cocktails, chaotic group chats, and the kind of emotional whiplash that only comes from partying too hard and trusting too easily. Bangkok. Puerto Galera. And now, apparently, the beach town of La Union. I said yes because I always do. Because the idea of another weekend spent “recovering” felt more suffocating than spending it in a car full of vague plans and flaky friends. Because there’s always the hope that this time, the chaos will be worth it. Spoiler: it wasn’t. But also—maybe it was. In a different way.

NEWS | Tensions Escalate into Open Conflict: Unpacking the Ongoing Cambodia–Thailand War

Southeast Asia at a Boiling Point: Cambodia–Thailand War Intensifies

What began as simmering border tensions has now exploded into a full-scale military conflict between Cambodia and Thailand, marking one of the most serious escalations in Southeast Asia in over a decade. As of July 2025, both nations have mobilized thousands of troops along their shared border, triggering fears of a broader regional instability. Here’s a comprehensive look into how this war started, what’s currently happening, and what it could mean for the region and the world.

TRAVEL | Puerto Galera 2025: Where Gays, Chaos, and Check-In Times Collide

Where do I even begin? This year’s Puerto Galera edition was, dare I say, a masterpiece in organized chaos. Unlike last year’s minimalist collection of 10 lost souls and a failed group coordinator (read: flop era), this time we leveled up with 20 fabulous attendees squeezed into 6 rooms. A glamorous logistical puzzle, but at least I was there to steer the glittery ship myself. It’s still a relatively “small” group—especially compared to those mega gay exoduses where 100 half-naked men descend upon an island like a RuPaul army. But as I always say: under 50 gays = manageable. Over 50 = start praying to Santa Santino. Puerto Galera Holy Week is our annual excuse to leave behind the sins of the city and commit brand new ones by the beach, complete with glitter, rum, and terrible decisions. My role? Fairy godmother of accommodations, land travel, and trying not to scream.

TRAVEL | The Great La Union Labor Day Fiasco

So, picture this: I’m sprawled on my couch, recovering from the financial bloodbath of back-to-back shindigs in Bangkok and Puerto Galera, when ping—a random message about a La Union trip for Labor Day pops up. My brain’s like, “Bruh, you’re broke, and this is soon.” But my heart’s screaming, “YOLO, it’s La Union, let’s surf this wave!” So, naturally, I yeet caution to the wind and say, “Screw it, we’re doing this.”

To read more about La Union, click here:
Discovering La Union: The New Summer Hotspot for LaborUnion Festivities

TRAVEL | Discovering La Union: The New Summer Hotspot for LaborUnion Festivities

Fresh from the vibrant shores of Puerto Galera, our group was buzzing with excitement for our next adventure: La Union, the rising star of summer destinations in the Philippines. Known for its LaborUnion festivities, La Union has emerged as a top getaway spot, especially around May 1st, a national holiday that gives Filipinos the perfect excuse to escape the hustle of Manila for a few days of sun, sand, and celebration. But what makes La Union the go-to destination for summer revelry, especially after Boracay’s iconic Laboracay lost its sparkle? Let’s dive into why “Elyu,” as locals affectionately call it, is stealing the spotlight.