Funeral Casinos and Thorn-Poked Tattoos… Why the Hell Are Filipinos So Friendly?

Several years ago I got the chance to visit the Philippines for the first. I’d like to ramble about it a bit. I had some experiences with Filipino people before my trip (My sweet PH coworkers at the school in Thailand. Tony and Niño, the BEST Couchsurfing hosts in Kuala Lumpur - side story at the end.** Marcus was kind enough to host me and show me around a bit of Singapore. By now in 2026 I have had Filipino hosts and friends all over the world, from Laos to Malta to South America. Countless stories. Can confirm the stereotypes: Filipinos are some of the kindest humans on the planet.) I reached Cebu City to start my visit and one couchsurfer, Verge, welcomed me to come stay with his family for a few nights. On day one I felt like I was part of their clan. His mother (may she rest in peace) was passionately making me eat her homemade sweets - even when I felt like I couldn’t eat another bite. I traveled to a small but popular tourist town called Moalboal and met with some Brits there (shoutout Johnny, Scully, and Rosie. Miss you guys!) to explore the area with another local, Mel. While we were there, walking around town with Red Horse in hand, we came across what looked like a funny little DIY outdoor casino in the town center - various betting games set up beneath tents and strung with lights. The “dealers” were local people, sometimes even little kids. We asked Mel what on earth we had stumbled into and she told us about it. As I understand it today, the Philippines being a majority Catholic country in which gambling is illegal, there’s this funny cultural tradition in which a family who is preparing a funeral for someone who has passed away is legally (and culturally) allowed to set up a small at-home casino to raise funds for funeral expenses. Sometimes it’s for a few days, sometimes for a week or a month. As we listened to Mel’s explanation, smiles erupted across our faces and we immediately dove head first into the casino game tents. It may be a wake-casino but there was absolutely no mourning in the tents. Food, drinks, karaoke, laughter, and celebration all filled the air at the same chaotic time. It was a party! The games were all simple - place your money on a number and a funnel will drop balls onto a platform divided into numbers 1-4. If one ball lands in your number, you double your money. If two balls land in your number, you make even more. The poor locals must not have realized that these odds are FAR better than winning anything in Vegas because we just kept winning. In fact, we couldn’t lose. We moved to a different game - a young kid probably around 10 years old was the dealer. He had a cup with 2 dice and a cardboard sheet with 6 numbers written on it. Same premise, if you put your money on the right number, after a shake and dice reveal, you double your money with one match or win more with two. We kept playing and we just kept winning. We were enthralled. At this point in the story, the reader might be thinking “this money is to help a family pay for a funeral, right? Why would you want to be winning?” This thought never even crossed our minds for a second while we were in the moment. We were intoxicated on the atmosphere of the DIY casino, a growing crowd gathering around us to witness our win streaks, and … also the Red Horse, of course. We were on such a heater that we had a crowd of probably 20 people gathering around us in a semi-circle watching us place our peso wagers and celebrating with us every time the dice were revealed and we won (which, in hindsight, feels like it was every single roll). My dear Scouse friend John was the first to realize what was happening when the dealer child frantically asked his mom for more money to match our bets, which just couldn’t lose. He was visibly stressed. John looked at me and said “wait… this is a fundraiser for a funeral...” We both let out a laugh at how ridiculous we both were and how ridiculous the situation was. We had felt so excited to be winning these new games we had discovered, drawing a crowd of cheering locals, making friends at the casino tents… it had completely shaded our vision of the situation we were in - pretty much robbing funeral money from a family in a small village in the Philippines. We had had so much fun in the night up to this point that one might think the night would end here in an awkward exit. I can only tell you that when we realized we couldn’t keep any of the money we had just won, the night got even more fun. The child dealer was so relieved when we handed pesos back to him at the end of our playing. His stress melted off of his face. Pure joy. We looked at the crowd of spectators around us and saw that there were a lot of people who had been gambling with us in other games earlier in the night, always cheering and being friendly to us. We started spreading our winnings around the crowd in small bits and everyone was thrilled to get back into another game and play again. My favorite memory of this whole night is handing 100 pesos (about $1.60) to one little boy who was maybe 7 years old, expecting him to go gamble or play one of the games. The boy looked at the pesos, then looked up at me with big eyes, then turned and darted out of the casino area as quickly as he could- I like to think that he took the money back to his mom and dad or got himself a yummy snack with it. By the end of the wild night, I felt like we were friends with the entire village (including the family raising funds, I hope!) and the Brits and I all traveled together for the next couple weeks through Oslob, Bohol, Bantayan Island, and Palawan. I went my own way to Luzon and spent my last week in PH there - about which I will write another travel story soon, detailing my journey to meet the legendary 109-year-old Kalinga tattoo artist Apo Whang-Od and get a tattoo in her village. Will write up this story soon! I met up with the same Brits later on in Liverpool, had a motorcycle road trip across Europe from Munich to Scotland, and then met again in Ireland later — a friendship was formed at the Moalboal tent-casino that has withstood the test of time and distance and I also thank the Philippines for that. For now, I’ll wrap this up by saying that in my years of travel so far, Filipino people have been so consistently friendly, welcoming, hospitable, and kind to me that I think it must be something in their water. If at some point in life I have no friends left in the world, I might just head to PH and make 117 million new ones. To all of those kind people along my travel journey so far I sincerely say; thank you, po! Side story** I’ll never forget the time I met Niño in Kuala Lumpur, a Filipino friend from Luzon who was working in KL to send money back home to his family. He agreed to host me at his apartment and warned me that he had 3 other travelers also staying there. I was excited to meet everyone! When I flew into KL and navigated the city buses and subway and finally arrived and introduced myself to everyone, Niño surprised me with news that they had decided to have an impromptu trip to Ipoh for the weekend and he asked me to come with them. I was a bit baffled; I had plans in KL already and couldn’t join their trip to Ipoh and felt a bit disappointed because I didn’t have any hotel options in mind. I had also just traveled across the city to reach Niño’s apartment. I told him I couldn’t go and said “please just give me a few minutes to sit my bags down and try to find a hotel nearby since you’ll be out of town.” Niño had a puzzled look on his face. He lifted his apartment key out of his pocket and handed to me, saying “no, stay here! We’ll be back Sunday, just don’t burn the place down!” He smiled and said, “see you in a few days,” as he was walking out the door with his other guests. Just imagine! I had met this guy FIVE minutes ago and he handed me his apartment key to let me stay there alone for the weekend FOR FREE. Talk about an incredible human. Sadly, Niño passed away at home in the Philippines during COVID time but I still today feel inspired to make the world a better and more kind place because of him. He touched hundreds of peoples’ hearts through Couchsurfing alone with no compensation other than friendship. We remember you, Niño.