I still don’t quite get the subtleties of the local customs here in Davao. But no doubt it’s solely my fault.

Today I went to the Bureau of Immigration to discuss a visa extension but the guard wouldn’t even let me inside.

I was neatly, and I thought well, dressed with a plaid sport shirt with button down collar, clean-shaven, new haircut, well-fitting pressed khaki shorts down to just above the knee with a leather belt, and dock siders. But it was the shorts that kept me from getting inside.

When I came back later, in long pants, I looked around and saw several foreigners that were sloppily dressed in dingy t-shirts and old jeans, unshaven and unkept.

I don’t get it … yet.