March 25, 2006

Today is Saturday March 25th. Raymond picked me up in Atlanta and we arrived at home at 9:30 a.m. Whew! I was wiped out. After a good shower, I hit the sack and stayed there for over 24 hours. I still feel a little tired now, but I think the long off and on sleep was healing and helped my brain readjust. On 8:00 of the morning I left, I heard the school children singing outside. I had not previously noticed the American and Filipino flags hanging side by side in the garage/play area, but this morning the children were facing them and singing. First the Philippines was honored. Then the Star Spangled Banner played. One teacher had a powerful voice, and the children sang along. I don't know about you, but sometimes it is emotionally hard for me to squeak out a note during the corporate singing of our national anthem, and it was especially so at this time. Then it got worse. They sang the National Anthem of Australia. Even though I was standing in the back, I wondered if anyone noticed my wet eyes as Lijana and others sang " . . . . For we are young and free." I had not shed a tear the whole time I had been there until this morning. Then thankfully breaking the solemnity, a teacher playfully asked an Asian student if he had come up with the Korean anthem yet, and he lowered his head in embarrassment. I was thankful when I reached American soil in LA, but all but the plumbing was disappointing. The airport personnel were loud and irritable, water was $3 a bottle, hardly anyone spoke English, and there were well dressed beggars posing as helpers. Such is life. Such is traveling.

March 21, 2006

Maria's main task today was to prepare for a party for Stefanie's 26th birthday. We went to a bakery to order cakes, had our coffee and ate a small breakfast quiche. There are many coffee shops here and they all have delicious pastries. (Bo's in the mall is open from 7 am til midnight.) The mocha frost I ordered was painstakingly prepared from scratch and was delicious. The taxi took us to Ayala mall where I followed Maria around while she bought party stuff, and then onward to the grocery store. I ended up with a few more useless items that will add weight to my one big bag. I have not felt like a tourist here but more like a part of the society, maybe like a Mexican in Greenville. The Filipinos haven't looked at me strangely but have been considerate and friendly. They smile a lot and that makes this foreigner feel more comfortable. I think if I knew I were going to stay a while, I could catch on pretty easily. At least they would make me feel that way. Much of life here takes place on the streets. On the way out and up to town this morning, a man with a mouthful of toothpaste froth was brushing, spitting and rinsing from a cup of water. People were cooking on small burners or sitting and watching the walkers go by. A dog was emptying his bladder in a puddle left by the morning rain. Sometimes the men shamelessly do the same. They say it is not good when you are on foot and get splashed by a fast moving vehicle. But we went to an upscale neighborhood today also. Paradise Village was clean, the homes were large, the plants were trimmed and there was not a urinating creature in sight. Nor any front yard barbecuers. The paint on the wrought iron gate was not chipped and the fragrances of ripe fruit and dried fish were missing. Was I really still in Cebu? The occasion was Stef's birthday party. I chatted with a few folks. One was Les Tilka who is responsible for the distribution of 1200 Operation Christmas Child shoeboxes to kids throughout the Philippines. Since I have filled several, I was glad to hear the rest of the story. I can add something to what I have learned. Do not plan on doing anything significant after a massage. Maria and I went back to the spa this afternoon. I had a thirty minute foot massage - my feet take good care of me and deserved a treat - and a 30 minute shoulder and neck massage. When I winced over the pain from a throwing star being pressed into my instep, the therapist said, "Sorry, Mom." Otherwise it was totally cool. Later Maria, Stef, Chona and I went to get manicures and pedicures. I was useless after that. Maria has shown a lot of courage in coming to this country alone and has adapted well, but her teaching time will be up in about fifty days. I am so glad I had the opportunity to come and visit her. It has been a great experience for me, but Maria and Stef will probably not miss my many questions. How much is that in dollars? Where exactly is Magellan's cross? Was that Colon Street? Did I snore? Tomorrow Jean, demonstrating her missionary spirit, has volunteered to drive me to the airport. I leave noonish, and losing the 13 hours I gained and crossing back over the date line, I will arrive in Atlanta Thursday about 6 a.m. The middle leg of the trip, the crossing of the Pacific ocean between California and Hong Kong was grueling on the way over in spite of the mental cheering I gave myself. Sleeping and waking, my brain entertained thoughts of curling up in bed. A middle seat in the middle row of the cheap seats was rough but could have been worse if it were not for the company I had. On the right side of me an amorous couple was sleepily entwined, but on the left my new friend Michelle from Hong Kong sweetly tolerated my eagerness and naïveté. Can I hope for such a good mate on my return flight? When I get home, the first thing I will do is take a hot sudsy shower and dry off with a clean towel. Then who knows. Maybe I will start planning my next trip.

March 20, 2006 It is bright and sunny and not quite 7 a.m. Sunrise and sunset both come quickly without much gray time. Stef was up to walk laps around the compound, and I went out to take pictures. A Filipino who looked like he may spend the bulk of his day in an office was getting his day started with a brisk walk. Another Pinoy seemed to be training or at least admiring his rooster before he tied the cock's leg to a tree. Several men were sitting at a parked truck eating a big place of white rice and reddish brown saucy stuff with their hands. I would have liked to have taken a picture, but I didn't interfere. Later I saw them washing their hands under a spigot or pump. Birds were twittering. Cock's were crowing. Sewage was smelling. Humidity was in the air. A man was moving about the Cebu missionary van listening to Filipino music and waiting for his children to come outside so he could take them to school. The children wear uniforms to school. I am guessing each school has its own look. I have seen girls in middy blouses and more colorful attire, but this child had on a white shirt and navy blue shorts. School starts back today. Last week was spring break. The eleven students will be entering Joy Academy soon. I am not sure what is on my agenda today but it will begin with a shower.

March 20, 2006 I have learned: 1. Sweating is a good way to get rid of swelling in your feet. 2. It is possible to go out in public without your makeup. 3. Some Filipinas are radiantly beautiful. 4. The only word a gecko can say is "gecko." 5. The body of Christ is an amazing living thing. 6. You can sweat and not have to take a shower immediately. 7. Toilets here do not use much water and do not flush well except in the nicest places. 8. People here are conservationists. 9. Beautiful flowers can grow in ugly places. 10. Missionaries are people, too. 11. Roosters can crow 24 hours a day. They are not just morning birds. 12. I am a good traveler. 13. Washing machines were a good invention. 14. People can figure out what to do without the government telling them. 15. It's a small world after all.

March 20, 2006 Maria, her friend Jean and I had dinner in the Santo Nino neighborhood in a house whose living room was a restaurant that served good desserts and provided excellent service. Santo Nino is a "gated" community as most are, and Jean had to leave her driver's license for the privilege of entering. The homes are on narrow lots, close to the street, and all had tall wrought iron fences around the front with gates wide enough for cars to enter. When we dropped Evelyn off today, I noticed that the homes in her "village" had similar fences around them. So yes, for whatever reason, iron fences are the norm. The semblance of security is in other places as well. Before entering a mall, a female with a bag or purse must present it open to a uniformed security guard at the door. The guard, quite official looking with "Department of Criminology" stitched on his or her shirt, then swizzles a chopstick around in it purportedly to look for weapons. Yesterday a fit young male who was not carrying a bag was gently patted down by a female security guard. I got a glimpse into how the other half of Cebu lives tonight. After dinner, we met Jean's husband Bob at the beautiful new fitness center where he had been working out. We listened to the Philippine sound of western music, and I lusted after ripe tropical fruits at the bar while Bob finished showering. I'll bet this is one place where the toilets actually flush. Then we went to the lush, Las Vegas style Waterfront Hotel. On entering, your eye is drawn to the magnificent staircase, and looking up on the lobby ceiling you see a huge painting of the two overlapping world hemispheres with the "Filipines" grossly out of proportion. The center of the world! Jean said that the hotel was envisioned by former President Estrada, and after the coup, current President Gloria saw that it was built. It houses several fancy restaurants, a duty free shop, other shops and a casino. I asked the missionaries if they minded if I cruised through the casino. They said no, just meet them downstairs when I finished. My small flat bag was searched and I left my compact camera at a guard station in exchange for a card with the number 37. The Filipinos in the hotel did not have the open friendly faces that I have seen other places. Maybe prosperity causes worries and tight expressions. Or maybe they don't have roosters. The US consulate is on the Waterfront grounds. If something really special is held in Cebu, it is held here. 

March 19, 2006

Monday 2:30 p.m. We are back home from shopping in the Carbon, Colon Street, and the Freedom Park areas of Cebu City. I can describe it best by saying it is a like a combination of New York City and the French Market in New Orleans but with a distinctive fragrance combination of fruit, fish, sewage and exhaust fumes. I think we were the only westerners in the teeming masses there today. Maria and Stef had asked Evelyn, a Filipina friend, to go with us. She provided knowledge, safety and negotiating skills. Evelyn met her American husband on line, he moved here, and now they been married for a few months. Cebu City has a population of about two million; the island of Cebu totals three million. We shopped and I spent what was left of my pesos. I must get some dollars exchanged soon. One peso is currently about two cents, but it seems to go fast. Many of the stores sell in bulk and the items can be resold in the states or on ebay for ten times or more than the bulk price suggested here. Unfortunately I did not take any pictures today but it looked like something straight out of National Geographic. The dirty streets are of old rocky asphalt and, and the sewage runs right beneath them. The busy diesoline powered vehicles that run along them are painted with designs or ads in reds, aquas, yellows, blues and greens and provide bright colors against the gray of the streets. Taxis are white and mostly old Toyotas, Nissans or Kias. I saw rickshaws, people carrying long poles across their shoulders and large bags or bunches of fruit on their heads. Street vendors sell mangos, papayas, apples, tangerines, several varieties of bananas, watermelon slices wrapped in plastic, jack fruit and guava. I think cucumbers and tomatoes are main vegetables here, but they eat the heck out of fruit. Other vendors sell whole dried fish, small silvery fish in other states of death, cooked rice, VCDs, old cut off jeans from the western world, dried herbs, shoes, costume jewelry, barbecued animal parts, and I can't remember now what else. The floor to ceiling, tightly packed small stores sell clothes, furniture, baskets, shoes, fabric, jewelry, Chinese medicines, electronics, etc. Sidewalks are narrow, but many brown skinned men sleep comfortably amid the cacophany on the hard pallets next to the buildings. Pedestrians walk into the streets and cut through traffic and assume the vehicles will not run them down. To get downtown, we took a jeepney ride. A jeepney is like an open air bus with benches on the side. This one had a lower headboard than the one I rode in to feed the poor, and Stefanie, the basketball player, and I had to keep our heads bent. One thing I noticed - and this was evident on the jeepney ride - is how the Filipinos seem so aware of sounds and other stimuli around them. In the constant sounds of music and the street, the driver can hear a low tone from a passenger saying where to stop. Somehow the six pesos per rider seem to find their way up to the driver. You can get on while it is still or just grab a back rail and hitch a ride while it's moving. When we got off in Carbon, the driver just stopped and we weaved through the traffic to get to the sidewalk. All the people are very friendly and welcoming. A rare English speaking vendor asked me, "Where are you from, Mom?" I answered, "America." "What part?" she asked. "South Carolina." She said, "Ahh. The southern part." The native language here is Cebuana - pronounced Cebwana - but I think the official language of the Philippines is Tagalog. Evelyn spoke excellent English and speaks Chinese in addition to the two native languages. Stef seems to be getting the hang of Cebuana. We passed a couple of hospitals and I saw a young woman wearing a white outfit with what appeared to be a nursing pin on the lapel. Stef said they wear their white nursing outfits to class and clinicals.

March 19, 2006 It is 3:30 a.m. on Monday or 2:30 p.m. in the Carolinas on Sunday (I think), and about 30 minutes after the time my internal clock has set itself for arising. I just heard the first crowing of roosters indicating the cock fighting has ended. Saturday evening, I went with Maria to a covered dish supper at the home of a missionary couple. It was a three story house and had a rooftop that served as an outdoor room and was where the get together was held. Carol had tomatoes, peppers and tall plants new to me growing in garden areas by the fence on the roof. It is summer here. There was a remarkable sunset when we got up there and I wanted to take a picture. By the time I climbed back down and up the three steep sets of steps to get my camera, the sunset had of course changed, so the shot I finally got was in dark tones. I was privileged to hang out with these missionaries from the states and other parts of the world for a short time. Yesterday was Sunday, and we went to Quest, Stefanie's church. She is youth director at this "Community" nee Baptist type of church. On Sunday morning, the lobby of a hotel on a busy street becomes Quest. Stef had been working on a kids program, and yesterday the performance took the place of the regular service. It was really good. There was lots of music and the young participants spoke and sang with joy and gusto. After the service, coffee and chocolate crinkle cookies were served in the lobby on the other side of the hotel entrance. I met a couple from Augusta who have had a garden furniture manufacturing business here for twenty-five years and have lived here full time for the past nine. As we left, I noticed many similar hotel churches going on. I am thinking there is actually a pretty big Protestant community. When one taxi driver let us off at this/our house with the sign "Joy Christian Academy" he asked, "Are you Christian, born again?" After I replied yes, he said he is too. Maria said maybe he wanted to invite us to his church. I think maybe he liked identifying with a Christian from another part of the world. Then Lijana, Maria and I went to a Thai restaurant for dinner. Yummy! I cannot name the delicious dishes we enjoyed but it began with spring rolls and jasmine tea and ended with ice cream sticky rice. Service was excellent. Total cost for the three of us in American money? $14. After taking naps at home, Maria, Stef and I headed once again for town via taxi. We met Chona, a friend and a nursing student, and ate at a dimsum place at a mall. Chona helped us to bargain shop at something akin to kiosks. Then Maria and I went to Sawadee Spa, a really nice place for massages, facials, body wraps and scrubs. It works a little like a restaurant as no appointments are needed, and we chose from a menu of services. My choice was a one and a half hour herbal massage and a thirty minute Thai foot massage. The ordeal began with a floral foot bath where one at a time, I placed my big feet into a wooden salad bowl with pink chrysanthemums floating on warm scented water. Annelise didn't laugh but softly washed, rubbed and dried them. Who would have known she possessed the strength she used during the massage. My head was pressed into the mat and my nose was stuck though an aromatic hole so I couldn't defend myself, but I swear she straddled my back once. The cost in American money was $20 for the two hours but I admit I lost track of the time. One thousand pesos plus a fifty peso tip. When we bumped along the streets once again and arrived at the gate of 24 Martinez Compound, I felt pretty sure I was able to fall asleep without any problem, and I did. Awakening from my fourth night of sleep in the Philippines signals that I am two thirds through with my visit. Maria has been a good hostess and tour guide. Her set up here is as comfortable as possible, but she is counting the days until the school year ends and she can return home to Wisconsin. She and Stef share a big bedroom - reminds me of a dorm room - that has a window aircon and its own CR. Stefanie placed some mats on the floor for herself and kindly allowed me to sleep in her lean-to, twin bed. Except for the kitchen the rest of the space is for the school i.e. classrooms, library. To write this, I sit at a molded plastic kids chair at a computer in a classroom that is hot even at this time of night. This school is for missionary children or for children of people with dual citizenship. There are eleven students here. Maria said Martinez compound is a type of subdivision, but it is like a large cul-de-sac. The dusty paved street that leads to it is narrow with room for only one moving vehicle and is spotted with potholes. Filipinos, their dogs and caged roosters, wash hanging on lines, old Volkswagens, and sorry-sorrys (tiny barred shops) line the road. (In Mactan, goats took the place of dogs, but people walked them on leashes and seemed to like them better.) A smiling uniformed "guard" stands at the gate to Martinez. The gate is closed after about ten p.m. In the middle of the cul-de-sac is a big yard about the size of a football field. It is edged with coconut palms, mimosas, and magnolias blooming with white flowers that litter the grass like confetti. It has a basketball court, swings for children, a large grassy area and beautiful well-groomed roosters tied or caged. In the daytime, there are happy children - everyone seems happy here - running around, my first greeters when I arrived. This home/school is in the bottom of the U in the cul-de-sac. Lucy and Nick next door have several houses, and Lijana who has a new teaching degree from a university in Australia has come to help them for the time being. Lucy and Nick who have four children of their own have taken in many local children (no formal adoptions) who have been abandoned or who are sick, with tuberculosis perhaps. One beautiful girl who is now about four was rescued after being thrown into a well by her mother. Lucy's goal is to help restore the family or situation so the child can go back, but there are some for whom that is not a possibility. Taking in needy children is something else that we cannot do in America without government intervention. I am going to leave this hot humid room and see if I can get another hour of sleep.

March 18, 2006

What I have learned so far:
1. Filipinos use their eyebrows for answering questions. An eyebrow lift means yes and a downward scrunch is no.
2. The meat in the grocery store is different from the attractive way it is presented at the Fresh Market. For example, the pigs look like they were hacked to death. The meat is unwrapped and the customers pick the pieces up individually as if they were apples. Also sometimes a hot dog is not a hot dog.
3. The Filipinos are industrious and look for opportunities to make money. While you are stopped in traffic, children and adults will run up to your car and try to sell bottled water or maybe a hammock.
4. Much of what they do would be against the law in the states.
5. The dogs do not chase cars. They do not have the strength.
6. The only brakes taxi drivers use are emergency brakes.
7. They revere Magellan - whose name brought back memories from sixth grade - for bringing Catholicism here. And it was here that he was killed by the Muslim Chiefton Lapu Lapu. There is a huge golden statue of Magellan on the Capitol grounds.
8. Filipinos use facial coverings when they are outside or scooting along in traffic. They wrap T shirts, scarves, or any sort of cloth around their faces to keep the dust out of their noses. It is not a stick up.
9. There is little government intervention in the daily life of a Filipino. If we were in Greenville and were to pull up to Main Street at night with a bunch of foreigners in three large vehicles and start asking people if they wanted to try our soup, we would be reported and arrested and the soup would be tested for drugs.
10. Hospitals let people die rather than treat them if they cannot pay their bills daily. Families must come in and provide care.
11. People have several names. For example, Jenny Lou is Lou as well as Lou Lou. Gracie May is Doodoo. (I didn't ask.) This is in a country that is also spelled Pilipines and whose male citizens are called both Filipinos and Pinoys.
12. Which reminds me, the bathroom is called the comfort room, the CR. At the mall we paid to use a clean one that had toilet seats and toilet paper. The free ones do not have these niceties but they are still considered CRs.
13. The refrigerator is the ref and airconditioning is aircon.
14. Filipinos use their eyes and lips to point. Ask where something is and they will cast their in that direction and purse and point their lips.
15. People are always on their cell phones, not calling but texting because it is cheaper, so they are furiously pressing away. Maria's friend Lijana (pronounced as if without the J) asked if she could use Maria's phone. Then she proceeded to dismantle it and place the memory card from her own dismantled phone in it. Silly me. I had been here less than a day and didn't realize this was not unusual.
16. Children love to have their pictures taken. You will see.
17. You would think that with all the gesturing they would be a quiet people but not so. They talk, sing, laugh and have fun together.
18. Starbucks really is everywhere.
19. All of the currency is in pisos/pesos from one piso - a shiny silver colored coin - to colorful bills that start at 10 and go to 1000 pisos. They do not have to be concerned with such things as pennies, nickels, dimes, quarters and Susan B. Anthony dollars. Only pisos. Correction: they do have coins that are smaller than a peso.
20. People tune out the constant crowing of roosters.

March 17, 2006

It is Friday night in Cebu, 10:50. Maria would have liked to stay at Plantation Bay another night I think but I could do only so much luxuriating. If we had stayed I would have missed the feeding of the poor. A neighboring missionary family, Nick and Lucy from Australia who are of the Apostolic faith, organized and now every Friday night execute a massive feeding of the poor. This is how it went. First a soup/stew - pronounced like lugow - of rice, green onion, garlic and chicken was cooked outside in four huge pots. About 6 pm, the men loaded the cauldrons onto the bed of a truck. Nick and Lucy's organization also has two jeepneys, and about twenty or more of us piled in the three vehicles and hit the bumpy dusty roads of Cebu. The first stop was the Chinese cemetery where about 135 families actually live. The cemetery has tombs that are above ground and they have roofs but no walls. Some are small, maybe 100 feet square but some are up to 1500 square feet. The children excitedly ran up to the truck when the convoy pulled in bringing with them bowls, cups, Rubbermaid pitchers and any other containers and pressed them toward the workers who dipped the steaming stew into them. I served it for a while. It was amazing. We passed out two kettles full before moving on to Pier 4. This place burned in December but the missionaries rebuilt it. I can't adequately describe it especially since I saw it in the dark, but it looks like small stalls separated by corrugated aluminum, and smells like dried fish. Then we literally went to the streets, parked on the side and offered bowls of lugow to the people on the streets, "Lugow? Lugow?" One man asked me, "What nationality are you, Ma'am?" I replied, "American,"and he smiled and seemed pleased that he had met me. On the streets, I thought I could find a schizophrenic or two, and I did. I was dirty when I got back!

I have been "selected" to ride in the front seat on every wild taxi ride. I have not seen a traffic light, lane markers, accidents or hit and runs. Driving here must be understood only by the Filipinos and regulated by the rhythm of honks and beeps. Cars are not the only vehicles on the roads. There are lots of motorcycles, motor scooters, bikes, tricycles - motorcycles with a third wheel under an add on passenger area - Jeepneys, taxis, trucks, old Volkswagens, et al vying equally for the right to reach their destination. The vehicles are not only in competition with each other but also with pedestrians who seem not to notice them. This morning I was drinking tea in the outdoor restaurant at Plantation Bay and talked some with a handsome young "food attendant." He described the Filipinos as having a "light mood." He said, if bad weather comes, they do not complain. Maria said they are never impatient here and if they have to wait, they sing. Everyone sings whenever they feel like it. When the taxi driver started singing along with the radio, I chimed right in, since I seemed to get the go ahead. Karaoke is popular here. Tonight Maria, Stefanie and I ate ate fried pork bellies, grilled grouper and rice with a side of chopped green tomatoes in a pepper vinaigrette sauce while listening to Billy Joel and other American singers in an outdoor barbecue restaurant. There is a popular fruit that is in season now, mangosteen. It looks somewhat like a plum on the outside, is popped open by pressing it in, and reveals a thick red inedible bleeding pulp that surely was used for a dye. The edible part consists of slimy white segments with a citrus like taste. Mangoes are always in season. Water is sold in bottles and many of the people speak English. There are - and I am stretching it a bit - curbside markets as well as street vendors selling pastries, fruits, empanadas, fried plantain and meaty looking things on a stick. You can hear roosters crowing literally all the time. Are they pets? Probably maybe. (Maria says that is a Filipino expression.) Cock fighting is routine entertainment for the men. Scrawny dogs mill around outside the shanties scavenging for food scraps. I think sadly that their purpose is in a future stew, but surely the Filipinos can't get too much meat off them. Rats are bigger than cats I hear, and the rats chase the cats.

March 7, 2006
A week from now I will be in the air traveling for the first time far away from my USA home. Maria asked me to visit and by darn I am. Rob wisely counseled me. "What are you waiting for? Go see another culture while you have a chance." True to my nature, I have not prepared as much as I should have but as Gloria Gaynor sang, "I will survive." Now that I have practiced this blog, I will use it again. Til then...