Charlie's everywhere...

Caveats, et al...

2005-08-18T16:22:00.000-07:00

This is my first blog of sorts, and an attempt to record my trip back home after a long time. If you're new to blog reading, you'll eventually catch on that the latest blog is on top. So if you want to start from the beginning, you'll need to go back into the archived month. On the right menu, click on January, then scroll all the way down for the first piece, then work your way up to the next ones. Just check the dates if you're interested in sequence.

Also, since this was done on the fly, it's more of a scratch pad than finished pieces. There are a lot of errors (typos, syntax) to be found, as I planned to edit them... eventually. But who's got the time?

I was also trying to cram as much information that I remembered for each session while using the internet cafes over there. At any rate, I think I got the gist of the highlights from my trip.

Please leave your comments if you care to... or not.

The Long Way Home... January 25, 2005

2005-02-18T13:42:00.000-08:00

As we were packing for our trip back home, we learned that Johnny Carson had just passed away. We also learned that Michelle still had not delivered. I, for one, was anxious to get back home, finally feeling the miles of travel - - and all that feasting. We waited at the lobby until our shuttle came to pick up our luggage. This time, the hotel had ample bell hops to lug our baggage. They did have the advantage of going downhill, but the luggage (mine in particular), was still heavy. When we got to the check-in counter - sure enough- my particular maleta was waaay too heavy. It must have been the stuff we bought at the Flea Market the previous night. So, in a panic mode, we were able to shuffle stuff between that maleta to smaller ones we had stashed away. After sweating it out for the next weighing, we made it just under the wire. We had a light lunch upstairs - they even have Popeye's Chicken there - and then we settled in at our gate area, waiting for boarding.

Doing our Egyptian Shuffle back into the plane, we were hoping for empty seats again, but no such luck. This flight was fully booked. The small consolation was that the flight would be a little shorter; instead of 15 hours, we would make it in 12. Like I said - small consolation. We tried to get as comfortable as much as our cramping legs and backs would allow, or get some distractions like watching a kung-fu flick or some sappy melodrama they were showing on the imbedded LCD screens in front of us. I happened to catch the "Motorcycle Diaries", which was actually a good movie. Between nodding off and cramping, we were served two meals.  Then there were the frequent trips to the rear of the plane, just to stretch our legs or stand in line for the loo.  Soon enough we were landing at LAX. Being my first time to go through the returning customs area, I was trepidating about some of the souvenirs I brought back home - particularly the balisongs. I was already envisioning the SWAT or Homeland Security teams being deployed. As it turned out, it was a non-event. Just the perfunctory rubber stamp on the passport, and away we went.  Eddie met us outside, then Don also showed up with the van. It was good to be home again. Then we heard the news that Michelle had the baby. What a great welcome back surprise!

I decided to stay over at Jenny's apartment in PV to give me a chance to decompress. It also gave us a chance to sort out the pasalubongs, in spite of which we still had a few things switched - between the three of us travelers. We went over to Patriotic Hall that afternoon to check in with the folks there. Then the following day, Don and Johanna took me home.  I was just remarking how I missed the 'little' things we take so much for granted here, like: hot and cold running water, with enough pressure; toilets that actually flush on the first try; reliable electricity that doesn't require any converter - or at least not blow it up; wide streets with drivers ACTUALLY following the general direction of traffic; napkins that they give so freely when you go out to eat, etc.  It took me about three days until I actually ventured to drive again, as I was either still spooked to take the wheel, or maybe just spoiled to have been driven all over the place. Shaking off the jet lag wasn't too bad, as it allowed me to catch up with stuff I missed on the Iron Chef and Leave It To Beaver. Or was it West Wing and Alias? Either case, I was sleeping too late and getting up even later. In other words, back to norbal.

It was a momentous trip for me. Especially after all these years. Would I go back again? Absolutely - in a heartbeat! Now that I know what to expect, I'm definitely motivated to be a frequent balik-bayan.  So, whoever's planning to go back there, let me know! If the planets are aligned, and God willing that the creek and credit card debt don't rise, I'll be putting in as your traveling sidekick, kimo sabe.

In the final analysis, no matter where you go - there you are.  But as Dorothy often said to Toto, there's just no place like home.

Hong Kong Tour - January 24, 2005

2005-02-17T14:41:00.000-08:00

Because we arrived in the middle of the night, and as tired as we were from our trip, we didn't really get to appreciate the sights and sounds of HK until the following morning. Our agenda for this side trip included a 'guided' tour, which was arranged by our travel agent. After a scant buffet breakfast (compared to our previous feasts elsewhere) at the Stanford Hillview Hotel, (although they did serve congee too, but with lesser add-ons), we were met by our guide, Eric, who was very apologetic about our arrival mishap. But he really had nothing to do with it; nevertheless he made sure that we would have a more pleasant time during our brief stay. Eric gave us some tips on what to look for, and what to look out for. Sort of a crash course in street savvy when cruising the streets of HK. He also explained about local culture, like feng shui, and provided us with some historical notes about the place. Driving towards our first destination, he showed us a section of older high-rise buildings, or tenements, which were the first of the multilevel buildings ever built. Some were twenty stories, and no elevators in most of them. I wouldn't want to live there, especially in the penthouse. Because HK is so densely populated, real estate is at a premium, and so they build upwards to accommodate the masses. It was interesting to learn that 65% of their visitors come from mainland China. When the SARS epidemic hit, it really affected their economy, so they raised all barriers at the borders to facilitate travel in and out of HK. Hong Kong actually has several islands. The "real" Hong Kong was this little island they now call Ap Li Chau, or "Duck's Tongue" because of its shape. But when the British first acquired and colonized the place, they mistook the larger island - where Kowloon is - as Hong Kong. Literally, Hong Kong means "fragrant harbor", because the travelers back then could smell the sandalwood incense they manufactured on this island.

Our first stop was this jewelry shop owned by Jackie Chan. There were several pictures of visiting celebrities who had bought things there before. From Michael Jackson to Arnold. The salespeople were very attuned to their clientele... even spoke the 'trigger’ words... like, when they found out we were Filipino, they would say - "Sige na!... Sayang...!", etc. Not being much of a jewelry buff myself, I just looked around and ventured outside to check the street scene. Outside, I noticed the hustle and bustle everywhere. Lots of people, lots of movement, but very orderly, and the environs were quite clean. Very old buildings blended with the newer ones, and most of the cars looked fairly new. This was a very cosmopolitan city. We continued our tour, which brought us to the HK Convention Center, had the obligatory pose against the HK shoreline, and then went to Victoria's Peak to see the perspective from high above. It was a very interesting view, but since my camera had already gone kaput, you'll just have to take my word for it. From there we saw the floating houses in a section called Aberdeen- junk boats really. We boarded one that swung us around the famous 'floating restaurant' we often see in movies. Talk about gaudy...! After the brief tour, our 'photographer' came back on the bus to sell us our shoreline pics, on plates even! I thought they were overpriced, but what the heck... Before getting off the bus, we asked out guide to recommend a dim sum place, and he even offered to write down what we should order. We got off at the restaurant which was very near our hotel, handed the waiter our list, and had a great dim sum lunch for less than half of what we paid for the bowl of noodles when we first got there the previous night. Our guide also suggested that we buy our drinks at the 7-11 first (lots of them all around) instead of buying it at the restaurants who will charge you five to ten times the cost.

Anyway, we decided to take the local train and venture out to this place called Mongkok - or electronic alley - to see what kind of deals we could find. We found the subway station about a couple of blocks down, and asked a local to help us with the system. She showed us how to find our destination, get the tokens, which are reusable cards, to get in and out of the stations. It was very easy and efficient to get around using the local trains. But remembering the names was something else. We got on the train at the Tsam Sha Tsoi station and arrived at Mongkok in five minutes, which was really just two stops away. Getting on the street, it was jammed with people. They actually did not allow vehicles on this street, as there were just so many people - local and foreign - looking into ever shop for deals. And they were selling everything electronic under the sun. We checked out several stores, and I personally got sticker shock, because I figured out that the local prices were at least 25% to 35% more than what I could buy here at Target or Walmart. The way the vendors communicate with you is by 'calculator'. They enter the price of the item, and hand you the calculator - for you to give them a counter offer. Even after haggling, they still seemed steep to me. Also, they have this 'style' of posting the selling price in very 'creative' ways - to make the product seem really cheap. For example, a digital camera might have a sign saying it's only 300 HK$. But look again, that sign says 300 HK$ x 12. So, it's actually - $3,600 HK! Stuff like that. I figured, if anyone has mastered the bait-and-switch technique into an artform, this is the place that perfected it. We did see a lot of things, but didn't bite. By this time, we wanted to have some merienda and went inside a new-ish looking bistro in a nearby multilevel mall. We had a good view of the street below, and were still amazed at the sights. From there, we decided to go back to the hotel and rest a bit. Getting back to our station of origin, we got so disoriented - we had to ask for directions. People there are really friendly, and they steered us back to our hotel. On the way back to the hotel, Jenny stopped in this tailoring to inquire about a special deal she saw in the local paper - they were offering one suit, two shirts and a tie for 88 HK$. Such a deal!! The proprietor who was Chinese, said - "No. We don't offer that here. That's the Indian shop down there. But beware... quality is questionable.." With that, we headed back to our hotel. We took a long-deserved nap, as we were still tired from our uphill battle the night before.

When we got up and feeling somewhat refreshed, we decided to check out the Night Market on Temple street. We took a cab, which cost less than 20 HK$, and were dropped off in front of Temple. As in the previous place, vehicle traffic was barred in this section, and vendors actually had their stalls set up in the middle of the street. This place was more like the open bazaars that we are more used to - sort of like in Quiapo, or other similar markets. Here, too, they sold everything from clothes, to luggage, to watches (all fake, of course - and guaranteed to last a lunchtime), spy cameras, all kinds of knick knacks, whiz bangs, and other doodles. This place was fun! Same thing with the bargaining system here - they all had calculators handy. After a while, I got the hang of it and decided to buy stuff only after reaching the end, and coming back on the way out. At the end of the street, the food vendors were also setting up makeshift tables on the street, and were actually cooking their stuff streetside. Every imaginable (and unimaginable) sea creature was offered. But someone had warned us earlier to be very wary of fresh seafood, especially because of the recent tsunami... so we opted to duck into this familiar place call " Yoshinoya" - as in - "glad to know ya". Yup. Same thing over there, only a bit tastier than the ones we're used to over here. Local ingredients, I guess. After supper, we went back into the Night Market alley, and we were buying things we had checked out previously. By the time we reached the end (or beginning) of the street, my pockets and bags were full. We took a cab back to the hotel.

Tomorrow, we would be taking our long flight back home.

So we called it a night.

Scams, Trams, and Hong Kong Jams - January 23, 2005

2005-02-15T22:26:00.004-08:00

It was Sunday. Jenny and I were guests at Conching's house in Maria Luisa, where we stayed for the night. When we got up, we were the only ones in the house, except for the maids. Everyone had gone to church.  We had a leisurely breakfast, and started packing for our exit trip from the Philippines.  Having packed, we lounged around in the house for a bit, and Jenny even got to see Johanna's room, which was kept locked until she returns to visit or stay for a spell.  Conching finally arrived back from church, and we proceeded to pick Addie up at the Marriott. For lunch, they had planned for us to join Nitz and Raul San Jose (Tisha's parents) at their bistro/restaurant called Brio. It was located in this new sports complex where they have indoor badminton courts.  This place had about twelve courts, with wooden floors, overhead lights, etc. Badminton seems to be the latest 'in' thing for the hoi polloi in Cebu. I remember it used to be tennis, then archery... now it's badminton.  I also noticed most of the patrons there were Chinese. No coincidence. The restaurant, like many of the other family businesses, has several 'owners'. I guess they share the start-up capital, and I would venture to think that they share the profits too. Aside from the usual 'perks', like the family eating there for free.  Anyway, we brought along some lanzones to lunch which we shared with everyone. It was good to taste it again, after all these years. I'm salivating when I think of the taste as I write... At this point, I was getting way too full, so I opted for something really light. The food was continental, but they also served other specialties. After lunch, we had to go back for Addie to pack and check out of the hotel. And since it was sort of on the way, Jenny wanted to go to the Basilica one last time. So we went, and Conching waited in the car while Jenny and I made a quick beeline to the interior courtyard and lit some candles.  After picking Addie up, we went to Mactan and said our goodbyes. We couldn't have thanked Conching enough for all that she had done for us in the past few days.  She really took care of us in a huge way.  Then we waited until we could board our plane.

One of the scams they perpetrated on us, and everyone for that matter, is this 'Airport Tax' they impose on departing passengers. You have to pay 550 pesos to leave the country, and about 100 pesos for destinations within the country.  Another such scam are the tolls charges for using the highways - when we were in Manila heading north to Baguio. Nobody's really sure who actually collects the cash generated everyday. And their system with tolls is like this: they give you a receipt after you pay the 'initial' fee - say 50 pesos - to get on the highway. And you better keep that small receipt when you exit, because they take the 'backside' charges depending on where you exited. If you lose the receipt, then you have to pay the largest amount chargeable. Sort of like the parking lots here. If you lose your ticket, they can charge you the maximum allowable rate.  Anyway, there are more similar 'gimmicks' that try to separate you from your cash. Just can't remember them all right now.

The trip to Hong Kong was not too long, and we arrived at the airport around 10:30 p.m., only to find out that we had to wait until midnight to catch our shuttle to the hotel. The new Hong Kong airport is on an island by itself, and you need to be taken across somehow, by bus, train, or tram. By the time we got to our hotel, it was 1:00 a.m. We were the last passengers on the shuttle bus, and we had no idea where we were. After unloading our luggage onto the sidewalk, the bus driver tells us... "oh, your hotel very near..." and points up this steep ( like 45 degrees) slope, appropriately named Observatory Road. Sure enough, we see our hotel UP THIS HILL, about two blocks from where we were dropped off.  Jenny goes ballistic, and does this great impression of a fire-breathing dragon, going full steam up the hill to get who-ever-the heck-is-in-charge and give them heck-in-a-hand basket, while Addie and I struggle to lug our luggage up the two blocks. We're struggling not just because of the weight and heft of our luggage, but we're also cracking up and laughing at this whole situation.  Then a thin delicate man in a very nice suit, whom we later learned was the night manager, met us midway, and offered us help. But he only took one of the four maletas; I had two, and Addie had two. So Addie suggested..."why don't you take two?"  Which he tried, and it almost dragged him down the street, and he finally replied..."no... I think I come back..."  So we finally reached the lobby, and Jenny is just lambasting this tour guide on the phone, who the front desk clerk somehow got a hold off, just to pacify Jenny when she asked who was in charge.  I knew it was late, we were all tired, and we had to trek up the hill with our heavy luggage...but I found the whole thing really hilarious. Especially when Jenny started blasting the unsuspecting front desk clerk and manager who had NO IDEA what was going on.  Later on, the manager offered us an explanation that the bellhops quit work at midnight. So they hustled us up to our room - just to get us settled somehow.  After settling a bit in the room, and cracking up even more as we relived the situation, we decided we were hungry. So we walked down the hill and found a Korean noodle house nearby. It was good, but boy was it expensive! It cost us over 400 Hong Kong dollars for three bowls of noodle soup.  At about 7.7 HK$ to 1 US$, that's still too expensive. Anyway, we got some hot food inside us, and after the climb back up the hill, we were more than ready to hit the hay.

Tikalbong, Lechon de leche, and mah-jong - January 22, 2005

2005-02-15T00:01:00.000-08:00

Rod came to the hotel, and I woke up with a start. The roller bed I was sleeping on decided to upend itself and sent me sprawling backwards... as if I intended to do a headstand against the wall when I got out of bed that morning.  That was the tikalbong portion of the day.  We had one more breakfast buffet at the hotel, then checked out to catch our PAL flight back to Cebu.  Rod took us to Manila airport, and we said our goodbyes there. While waiting for our plane, we had siopao.

We got to Mactan at 2 p.m., and were picked up by Conching. We dropped Addie off at the Marriott, since Jenny and I were going to stay at Conching's house in Maria Luisa until departing for Hong Kong the next day. We found out that the driver had brought the wrong maleta to the Marriot, so we needed to make an exchange later. Meanwhile, we went to Ayala mall where I could buy some queso de bola. At this grocery store, when you bought a certain amount, you got free raffle tickets. So, not to miss out on this opportunity, I lined up to get what was due me. There was a young sales clerk who was efficiently doing her job; checking the receipt, logging in the amount, and dispensing the raffle tickets. There were a couple in front of me, so I waited for my turn. When my turn came, she put her pen down, made a sign of the cross, then started praying silently. I thought, gee...here's a novel way to break off for a "rest period"... Then I sort of noticed the sound of cash registers and people behind me getting much quieter, and even the lights dimming for a moment. For about five to ten seconds, the entire store got really quiet. Jenny and I looked at each other (like - what's going on here?!?) , and then we realized what was happening... it was 6 p.m., and it was the Angelus time.  Then, the regular din revved back up to its normal level as people resumed their activities.

For the uninitiated, the Angelus is a practice in most 'old world' places, where the faithful would mark the end of the day by pausing to reflect, and say a short prayer. Usually the church bells or some other pre-designated marker would cue the Angelus. 6 p.m. or sunset is when they usually practiced it. In Baguio, I remember the old bus station blowing it's steam whistle at dusk, and the traffic and pedestrians would stop on their tracks to observe it. Kinda neat, I think...

Anyway, noticing a vast improvement in the flow of traffic since the Sinulog had already passed, we toured the back of Capitolyo through this really narrow and congested street (more like an alley really) called OPPRA. We ended up on Jones Avenue, headed towards Fuente Osmena, then swung by the front of San Carlos University.  We went back to rest at Maria Luisa before going out to dinner. After picking up Addie, we ended up back at Ching Palace. This time we were joined by more members of the family. They ordered a lechon de leche (among other equally delicious dishes) in our honor, as they realized we hadn't had it yet...  There's only one word to describe this continuous feasting... gluttony! But, man, is it good!

After dinner, Lyndon (Johanna's oldest brother) took me to this karaoke bar/restaurant - whatever, that they also co-own, or have a stake in the biz, because I mentioned that I was interested in learning their style of mahjong.  This was my first experience ever in a KTV (or karaoke TV) place. Basically it's a bar where GRO's (guest relations 'officers')  entertain you with karaoke singing, food, etc.  I was taken in the 'back office' where the 'bosses' hung out, and they played mah jong... and played... and played. And these guys played for huge amounts of money too. Reminded me of a scene from the Sopranos. By three a.m. I could hardly keep my eyes open, so someone took me back to Maria Luisa.

After watching all those games, I still couldn't figure out how they played their version.

Taguig, 'Ta Pil, atbpa - January 21, 2005

2005-02-14T22:54:00.000-08:00

Going down Kennon, Jenny was insisting on taking the North Diversion road back towards Manila.  We were also trying to figure out whether or not to pursue the side trip to Los Banos. Because of the lateness of the hour, we would have had to still make accommodations to stay somewhere in Los Banos for the night, do another whirlwind tour of Barrio Batongmalaqué, etc. It was getting way out of hand, since we had already made plans to see the Veterans Outpatient Hospital in Taguig, and then also see Tita Pil, who got wind of our visit. The problem with Jenny's wish to take the North Diversion, was that we missed it entirely, since you would have had to take the Naguilian Road. Kennon was more direct to the lowlands, and besides, all roads met at the San Fernando junction anyway. I guess she just wanted to avoid the whole "Miss Tarlac" parade fracas. So our driver, Boy, did his damnedest to earn his money and drove like the proverbial Filipino driver in his element.  For about three solid hours, after hitting the straighter roads in the lowlands, he was mostly on the left side, using his horn as a force shield to clear everything and everyone in front.  I decided not to look and fell asleep, and I was finally beginning to feel the road trip's effects. Soon enough we ended up somewhere, I have no idea exactly where, but there was a food court of sorts. Kinda neat place, but they were playing this disco music way too loud for any sense. It was like a fast food Filipino joint on one side, then a Chow King (now I remember) Chinese place on the other side. The drinks were sold at yet another station within this mini food mall.  Good eats, as expected.  Finally we decided to forego Los Banos, because we were all too tired and just wanted to get close to our next destination. So Jenny negotiated a booking at the Mandarin Hotel in Makati, where we ended up for the night.

January 21
In the morning, we decided to have breakfast at the hotel buffet. They had everything here too, even congee and all the local favorites.  They also had what I thought to be a inordinate amount of rude foreigners - Japanese, Koreans and Indians.  I made my point by purposely talking out loudly to Rod, to be overheard  by this one really rude Indian guy..."man, they sure have a lot of RUDE foreigners here (the G-rated version) ... if I were them I'd look around, and realize I'm miles and miles away from home..."  I think it might have worked, because he kept avoiding our eye contact.

After breakfast, we swung by Libingan once more, which was on the way to our appointment that day in Taguig. The previous time we were in Manila, Gen. Gidaya had made arrangement for us to visit the Veterans Outpatient Hospital, for possible connections with the Foundation programs.  We got a call from one of his men, who told us to meet them at the corner of Caltex and the bridge in Taguig, so he could escort us to the place.  We never met this guy, and he never met us either, so we were wondering how this would work out. We did tell him we were in a maroon van though.  And when we got to the corner of Caltex and the bridge, they actually flagged us down, and off we went to follow them to the place.  We were met like dignitaries at the Hospital by the big cheeses, who gave us an extensive tour of the place. They even had a 200- seat theater, a museum with all kinds of life-size dioramas depicting several famous 'scenes' from the war, and even prepared lunch for us at their board room.  After the appointment, it was just time to make another visit to Carl Magno's place in the same general area.  Driving into what I consider as the dicier part of town; i.e., streets becoming smaller as houses become more abundant, like one on top of another, literally... jeeps and tricycles all over the place, and pedestrians trying to negotiate any available free space... we crossed this 'gated' neighborhood, where the houses then became more 'regular'. We got to Carl's place, and met Tita Pil, Carl, his wife Benny, his younger brother Johndy (sp?), and I was surprised to see Rica there too! We told them that we only had an hour to visit, and they prepared a merienda in or honor. Eat again.  Dinoguan and puto, pancit palabok, turones de mani, fresh mango. We found out that Carl was also planning to be in Hong Kong, and in fact, was staying at the same hotel we were going to be, only a couple of days earlier.  Before we left, Carl gave me some DVDs to take home. We left their place, and as we headed towards Fort Bonifacio, decided to stop at this new shopping area called Market Market.  It's an open air version of SM, and really a neat place to shop, eat, hang out, etc.  I think Jenny wanted to exchange some money, so we cruised the place a bit and saw some interesting shops.

Back at the Mandarin Hotel, Jenny had been contacted by Johanna's older sister, Abiang, who wanted to take them out for dinner. Most probably prompted by their mom in Cebu. So, the plan for the evening was that Jenny, Addie and Rodie were to meet up with Abiang for dinner, while I was going to be picked up by Lench to reunite with my boyhood friends.  Later I learned they had a heck of a dinner at a restaurant in Glorietta 4, which is one of the large buildings/malls in Makati.  There was a debut at the hotel that night, and the lobby was crowded with all kinds of debutantes, escorts, wanna-be's, has-beens, and everything in between. Sort of like a glam Sinulog atmosphere. I think the men were trying to outdo the women in both clothes AND make-up... go figure.  So I walked down the corner to avoid the crush, and Lench took me back to this place in Fort Bonifacio to meet up with the guys. He said that only the Perfectos could make it this time, and couldn't get hold of any of the Taracatacs. The first one who got there after us was Lancero. Still looked the same, but acts really taha now. Let's see...to describe taha... maybe subservient is too strong a word. Something between shy and withdrawn, maybe. Then Dominique and his oldest boy, Ralph came.  Also looked and acted the same. Then Juvy came. Same thing. I told them that maybe they were all stuck in this Twilight Zone sort of place,  and never aged.  We had a great time catching up the past 35 years, filling in the missing years, and mostly reminiscing.  It sure was great to see them again.  Then Lench took me back to the hotel.

Ghost from Christmas Past...visiting the Miley's Yard.

2005-02-13T23:53:00.000-08:00

I am standing on what remains of the Miley's yard in Acupan, where we would hold our yearly Christmas pageants. Around the beginning of December, all the younger kids would be gathered by the older kids in the camp, where we would learn a dance or two, some tunes and carols for a show which we presented to our folks. It was my favorite time of year, when the air got nippy, we got to play really late at night (practice - you know), go to Misa De Gallo really early in the morning, and anticipate the party day. On the eve of the party, all the neighbors and friends would gather at this yard, decorate the tree outside, bring all kinds of food - (the Masloffs' always brought piroshkis, and we always brought the soft drinks) - and watch the kids perform. The first year, I think we did a dance called the "Popeye Stroll". Then we sang the latest Beatle tunes. A small token gift was delivered by 'Santa', usually someone's Dad in costume. Then we continued to party into the night. It was the best of times we had growing up in this magical place we used to call home.

Baguio - January 20, 2005

2005-02-13T21:24:00.000-08:00

At 7:30 we were already up. I knew we had little time because of the unexpected snags along the way, so I wanted to make the most from this first trip back ever. My main objective was to make it all the way back to Acupan, and visit the remains of my childhood home. Jenny and Addie decided to stay behind and have their leisurely tour of Baguio while Rod and I ventured further out.

First thing I need was some pesos, so we headed for the Post Office. As it was still early, most of the shops weren't even open yet. The sun was still rising over the mountains, and much of Session road was still in the shadows. Since we were already at the top of Session Road, we decided to take a slow drive downward and see how many places and things we could recognize.

There had been lots of changes. D&S was gone. Patria had burned down, and replaced by another establishment. The whole vacant side below the Cathedral was filled with other buildings. There is now a gate that leads up the stairs towards the Cathedral. The La Peral building and Session Theater are still there, but dilapidated from age. RCPI is there with new front windows and neon signs.

Traffic is bad on Session Road, even this early in the morning. Further down, we decided to park the van. It was right in front of Star Cafe, which they moved across the street after the 1991 earthquake.

We went in for a quick breakfast of the usual Tapsilog. It's smaller than I remember, but then everything else is smaller too. After breakfast, I surveyed that part of Session.

The Dainty Restaurant across had been replaced by this huge McDonalds. Where the original Star Cafe, Bombay Bazaar, and other Indian bazaars were, are now empty and boarded up. Pines Theater is also old and dilapidated.

We decided to head towards the market, and were lucky enough to find a parking place quickly. First store we spotted was a "Calpotura's" General Merchandise store. This was an old 'suki' of ours, and I think the store is run by employees.

We ventured to the interior, and found the 'black market' area for exchanging currency. It was dark, and people were still opening their stalls. Some used flashlight, others used candles.

After changing money, we went a little further towards the open market area and found a coffee seller. We bought a few kilos of the famed 'Baracco' and 'Benguet' coffee, supposedly the best coffee in the area.

Heading back to our van, I decided to buy some souvenirs - mostly trinkets, necklaces, etc, and a 'sunka' board. All told, we must have spent only about half an hour in the market. Looking at the place, it was the same Baguio Market with everyone hawking their vegetables. Because of the meningo scare, there weren't too many shoppers that I could see.

Maybe because it was also still very early.

Heading out of the market, we went across the end of Burnham Park where we got a glimpse of it. No more squatters, and everything looked fairly clean and orderly. Next time, I'd want to spend some more time there.

We headed back towards upper Session Road via Harrison, and caught the back of the new SM, which replaced the Pines Hotel.

Heading down Leonard Wood Road, I guided our driver into the Brent School compound, where we were asked who we were, etc. After letting us in, we parked up the top next to the Ogilvy building. There was a new headmaster, and the second in command, Ms. Ursula Daoey, was someone who knew me. As we were waiting for her to show up, I took several pictures, went to the bookstore and bought a few things; t-shirts, hats, etc., and then finally met with Ursula. We must have spoken no more than ten minutes, and after exchanging pleasantries, information, and posing for a couple of pictures, we took off for the mines.

Heading back towards the mines brought up so many familiar feelings, as I tried to remember each twist and turn of the road. The John Hay Ice Plant is still there, but probably not functional anymore. The long rectangular 'secret' pool by this one curve was still there, though it was empty. Cemetery Number 1 & 2 were still there. Scout Barrio was now a huge conglomeration of new buildings and houses, all the way right up to the roadside. The old VOA (Voice of America) road was still there, although they call it something else now.

Then we reached Loakan... and I could not recognize it anymore. There are just so many building, houses, large manufacturing plants with compounds, like Texas Instruments, etc... jeepneys and buses all over the place. All the way up to the curve where the airstrip starts (or ends) by the cliff.

Same thing with the area outside of the PMA gate. Rod even said the same thing happened inside PMA itself. So many houses, but PMA still seemed much cleaner than the environs. Some portions of the road heading to Virac became really rutty, and was starting to spook our driver. I thought it was going to be this bad all the way, but fortunately, these bad conditions were only intermittent.

By the time we reached the Virac gate, I could see the wear and tear after so many years of little or no maintenance. The Johnson house was still there, inhabited by someone no doubt. The SLU Virac compound and church area had also grown.

Our first checkpoint was at the guardhouse where it forked wither towards Balatoc or the Mill. The roads were getting rougher more consistently now. Everything seemed to be covered under a blanket of dust. After recalling who lived where in Balatoc - the Cervantes, Caballeros up the hill, the Paraans, the Glychenkoffs, the Wrights, etc., we were at the Balatoc Main Gate.

I could still see the blue BCI buses that we used to ride back then lining up here - Bus 22 with Alfonso, Bus 23 with Manlucban, Bus 57 with Mang Martin... Bus 55 with Piando...?

Shaking off these ghosts in the dust, we were met by Mr. Del Pasion who escorted us into the VP Ops. Manager's office; Mrs. Midge De Leon. After intros, etc. they arranged to have another vehicle take us all the way to Acupan, as our van wasn't going to make it, they said. And they were right.

The road got even ruttier as we proceeded. It was passable, but just barely. Their head of security came along, mostly out of courtesy or curiosity probably. But they were very accommodating. As we drove, we were reliving out old haunts, like Tom's Tailoring, Tabanda's Vegetable store, the barber shop, the motor pool garage, etc. Before long, it became like a game between us all who could tell which building was what first.

Our guides were impressed that we remembered such details, and they filled us in on the years when we were gone. Like the church which was relocated across the street, Fr. Andres being still alive, the 'sightings' up the church wall, etc.

Then we saw the remains of the old Cine Building, which now looks like a bombed out building. Most of the bunkhouses had been gutted, and we were told that the material was auctioned to the highest bidder, who used it to build houses elsewhere. The same thing happened throughout the mines, including the staff houses. The said, if you want to see parts of your house, you need to go down to camp seven in Kennon.

By the time we reached the Acupan Police Station area, the only remaining thing there was the waiting shed. The Police Station was gone. The bunkhouses to the left behind, and even beyond - were gone. Only the foundation pillars remained. But in spite of this, people had already started 'rebuilding' onto the grounds; mostly makeshift lean-to's. There were several jeepneys at the base where the buses used to wait. We climbed up the hairpin curves, and by the time we got to Gate 2, our driver was remarking how glad he was he didn't have to drive this far.

The carpenter's shop next to Gate 2 is gone, and when we got to the Mines Offices area, all of the buildings were gone. They said a fire took the rest of the remaining buildings, so the only thing remaining there are portions of cement walls and foundations. Completely vacated.

The portal in front of where Daddy's office used to be (which was also gone) had been boarded up hastily with some left over galvanized sheeting. The only way up to the staff area was by the steps leading up to the Masloff's house.

We began our ascent...

Even the metal railings by the steps are gone. By the time we reached the Masloff's, I noticed the boilers were also gone. The road that led from below had been overgrown with cogon, and even trees! Looking around, I could spot the boundaries of the Masloff's, the Buenos, and across, where the Miley's/Nonini's house used to be.

Only the fireplace and chimney remained. I went over to stand on the lawn where we used to have our annual Christmas pageants and parties, and had Rod take a shot of me. Looking up and around, I could still see the large bunkhouse at Camp 3, which seemed intact. The stairs leading to the upper area of the camp was there, but we wanted to take the road up first, then down the stairs later.

The Michel's and Martin's houses also only had the chimneys remaining. The calachuchi tree right next to Paul's tree house was still there.

The road is now just a footpath trail. At the bend overlooking the canyon below, we could see many houses built on the mountainside across which used to be nothing but pine trees. We used to watch lightning strike those trees during typhoons, as well as the occasional landslides.

The path towards the lumber mill was still there, and still used. Walking up a bit further, I noticed the High Windy Hill was still there, and I took a shot.

Finally, approaching the old Mango tree, I could see the remains of our house. The front porch steps and chimney are still there, but nothing much else. The stairs leading down to the lower lawn were still there too. There was an old Igorot woman who had constructed a hut on the foundation, and was planting camotes. Our guides talked to her, and I asked Rod to take a photo of me on our front steps.

I located the steps headed towards the Perfectos. Midway, I could see the old tanks, the two eucalyptus trees, and what remain from our basketball court. Everything everywhere was overgrown with marapait (wild sunflowers). I tried to take as many shots as I could, but my digital camera seemed to be failing. But I got some of the more memorable spots like; our playground beside the garage, the mango tree, the steps downwards.

By the time we got to our first apartment (which is also gone), my camera finally died. There was someone living in a makeshift hut (I guess everything is makeshift there) where our first apartment was, and we spoke briefly.

The lower lawn, which was cemented over before, is now another jungle. Same with the Fernandez & Florencio residences. Finally, we headed back down to the Mine office area, where our transport took us back to Balatoc.

On the way back, we found out (after asking who among the staff members were still in the area) that Midge De Leon is George's wife. By the time we got back to her office, there was a huge difference in her demeanor, like long lost acquaintances.

They really wanted to keep us longer for their Ecotourism Mine Tour spiel, but we said we were on such a tight schedule. After showing us their small museum, including this neat collection of all the staff members' name plates in the past, we promised them that we would return to spend more time in the near future. They said that the meningo scare caused a lot of cancellations, and really hit them hard.

By noon, we were heading back towards Baguio. But first, I wanted to swing by PMA, at least to get some t-shirts, which we did.

By 12:15 we were checking out at John Hay. I had gotten a text message from Mike Pearson, who invited us for lunch at the Country Club. We met Mike there, and after lunch, left Baguio towards Los Banos. Or so the plans were, at that time.

Looking back, we were in Baguio for only 17 hours. Next time, I'd want to spend some more time there.

Subic, Samat, then onward... January 19, 2005

2005-02-11T18:09:00.000-08:00

For breakfast, the hotel provided a buffet. Other than one couple in the small restaurant, I think we were the only other guests. Breakfast was like a pared down version of the previous hotel buffets, although they still offered everything... including spam! After breakfast, Jenny wanted to check out some Subic Homes, which are geared towards expats. These homes used to be the officers' quarters, and while they are old, they are still quite serviceable. The neighborhood could have been in Glendale, or Carson for that matter. The typical house had three to four bedrooms (either furnished or unfurnished), small backyard, patio and a two-car portico or something like it. They were available only for lease, and the longest term was something like 25 years...? Anyway, they were somewhat pricey. About as much as renting a house here. Driving out of Subic, I noticed the International school there now had a 'Brent School/Subic' sign.

We headed south to Mt. Samat. At the gas station where we refilled, we could see the huge memorial cross atop Mt. Samat. At the foothills of the mountain and all along the curvy road up, there were many workers clearing the weeds along the roadside. There were also some shrines built along the mountainside, some with Japanese characters. At the top, there is one huge memorial structure, with inscriptions of events inscribed in the tall marble walls. The view towards the lower lands is spectacular. Jenny described this area as the 'last stand' which Daddy wrote about in his war diary. Being at higher ground is an advantage, because the attacking enemy is easily spotted. In spite of this huge advantage, the defenders back then were still overrun, just by the sheer numbers of the invading Japanese. Daddy and his men were overtaken due to lack of sleep, food, and ammo. However, they also inflicted a huge toll on the invading armies. For every one Filipino soldier that defended this place, they must have taken at least 300-400 from the other side. Looking down into this peaceful and lush valley, this place must have been hell back then. Then we were invited to see the museum below. They had displays of every sort of munitions they used back then; a topographic model of the area; pictures with stories, etc.  And the place was so dim, because they only turned the lights on during special events, or when visiting 'dignitaries' were there. I took a lot of pictures of the place, then it was time to head down the mountain.

From Mt. Samat, the original plan was to locate a monument in Capas, marking where the Death March ended. We were intending to retrace the march itself, but time was also running out for other spots we needed to hit. After a futile search for the monument, and as traffic got more snarled, we decided to lunch somewhere in Pampanga. And in the middle of this unknown territory (to us anyway), we found a Max's restaurant! Table A combo for five, please! Replete with lunch, we were ready to hit the road again. I was noticing that the road, or what is supposed to be a national highway - was chock full of all modes of transportation: from huge transit buses, to commercial trucks, to jeepneys, tricycles, bicycles, even carabaos! You can guess what this does to the speed of traffic - it goes only as fast as the slowest transport is on the road at that juncture. So, a lot of driving on the other side happens, which is most of the time. And horns are used as defensive (or offensive) tools. Two quick toots is a polite "excuse me". Three medium toots is '" hey - watch it!" One long steady blare is "get the @#$% out of the way!" As we got towards Tarlac, traffic was looking like Sinulog. We intercepted a funeral vehicle procession going the other way. It happened to be one of the workers killed during the strike at Cory Aquino's hacienda...Luisa something or other? Then as we got to the center of Tarlac, traffic just stopped. They were having a barrio fiesta of sorts, and Miss Tarlac was gracing her public in the middle of town. So we went down alleyways, back ways and wrong-ways to circumvent the block.  Back on the highway...we finally got to the bottom of Kennon and the sun had already set. By the time we hit the outskirts of Baguio, it was already dark. On the way up Kennon, though, I noticed again how many houses and people had congregated. Just like any place we went -  if there was a road, houses would be built right up against it. Then the houses become an establishment of sorts; a store, a restaurant, a hotel, etc. Like the old West, I guess.

Anyway, we finally arrived in Baguio at 7 p.m. When we were at the Baguio General Hospital (BGH), I couldn't recognize the layout anymore. I did see the Military Cutoff Drive sign, and I knew it would eventually lead us to the front gate of John Hay, where we were billeted for the night. Well, after going a bit further, nothing seemed familiar anymore, so Rod went down to ask for directions. Sure enough, had we gone a little further, we would hit the Military Circle. We went, found the circle, but the front gate had been closed... and for some time, it seemed. So we drove down a ways until we found the new entry into John Hay. Already, I could smell the pine trees and see some of the old familiar buildings surrounding John Hay. But there had been so much change too. We finally arrived at the John Hay Manor - a huge new facility which befits the place. We checked in to our rooms, and what a suite! There were two bedrooms, one dining room, sala, and two balconies! And three bathrooms!!! This place was very nice. After settling in a bit, we decided to have dinner and a quick look-see. Just outside John Hay, I spotted Mario's Restaurant. It belongs to one of my schoolmates from Brent - Marlo Benitez. The original Mario which used to be at the Patria location had burned down earlier, and they relocated o this place. It is between where they used to hire out ponies and the old BAL station. Along that entire side, a bunch of other buildings had already sprung up as well. The menu at Mario's is continental with some Filipino specialties. Still kinda full from lunch, we had a light dinner. After dinner, we took a very quick trip downtown towards Session Road. It was just too dark for any sightseeing, and tired as we were, we went back to the hotel to plan out for the next day.

Manila and Subic - January 18, 2005

2005-02-11T16:51:00.000-08:00

Finally locating my trip notes, I missed a couple of entries yesterday. After having our lunch at Max's, and before getting to the SM food court to meet with relatives, we took a jaunt around 'old' Manila. We went to see San Marcelino, where the Valmayors used to reside, and where we used to spend our summers while in Manila. There has been so many changes in the area, we couldn't even recognize where the house used to be. Bu the metal gates were still there. While in the area, we decided to go to a local market, called the Paco market. This was the 'typical' streetside market. Lots of makeshift stalls, and vendors selling everything from house wares to clothes to food. We were looking for some 'hulmadores' for polvoron (forms used to make polvoron), and were directed to this hardware/general merchandise store. Everything was just stacked on top of one another. We asked the owner, who was the typical Intsik-beho (old term for Chinese storeowner who spoke with a funny accent), and he showed us some. Naturally, I bought everything he had available. Then we stepped outside his store, and started checking out the local vendors - and found out that they were also selling the same thing for half the price... oh well. I was tempted to buy a bunch of stuff, like bolos and other sharp-edged utensils, but I was worried how to get those through customs. So I held off buying anything more. Going into this small market made me feel real dicey, since it was the type of place where anything could happen. But after acclimating to the environs, and talking to the vendors in Tagalog, it was fine. From there we went back to the hotel. January 18 -Jen, Ads, and I decided to have breakfast at Jollibee down the corner from the hotel. The place was packed that early in the morning. Lots of students and workers were on their way to start the day. I had the Tapsilog special. It was really very inexpensive, compared to the Intercon buffet - they were charging $10 US, I think. All told, we must have spent $3 for everyone, including 'seconds.' After breakfast, and while waiting for Rod to come by with the van we hired, we went into SM to shop. I found out that the shopping mall money changers gave the best exchange rates yet. The 'official' banks were the worst. The hotels were okay, just slightly above the bank rates. The money changers at the mall had this weird transaction process as well. First you had to fill out this form, for he amount and currency. Then you had to go to this one line to give the form and the dollars, which they stamped the form and checked the currency if they were real or not. Then they kept the money and handed you the form back. Then they had you go into another line, where you had to give back the form, then they would give you the money in pesos. It's just like the duty-free shops, where, if they could add another step in the transaction process, then they would double or even triple it. And all this took place around one small booth!!?! Go figure... As I may have mentioned before, the speed of business here is like pouring molasses, and then adding sand into it. But on the other hand, it does create extra jobs. Anyway, after shaking off the money-exchange exercise, I wanted to shop for some sandals and shirts. I figured...this is Shoe Mart, right? They gotta have something I can buy. I found a promising pair, but they were too small. So I asked one of the several salespeople to get one my size. After checking the back room and conferring with the other salespeople, he came back and said..."sorry sir, pero hanggang size 8 lang po..." (sorry, but it only goes to size 8). And I found out all their shoes had the same sizing limitations. So, I tried my luck with shirts. Same results. Their XL t-shirts would have made me look like a Brittany Spears wanna-be look-alike with the bare mid-riff. Not a good look for me, I thought. So - even when I wanted to buy some local stuff, nothing would fit me anyway. For lunch, Jenny had invited Gen. Gidaya, who was a newly-elected congressman charged with veterans affairs matters there. Rod had arrived by then and we had a meeting with the general, who made arrangements for us to visit the Veterans Outpatient Clinic in Taguig when we returned from our trip to Subic and Baguio. It was another good opportunity to foster relations with a high-ranking official who could pave the road for us later. We checked out after lunch and proceeded to Subic. On the way there, we stopped at this place (name which I forget at the moment) which had a huge monument of the soldiers holding the line during the initial invasion. We took several shots of the monument, then proceeded. Driving into Subic, the guards at the gate gave us this information sheet which went over the driving regulations. Basically, it is the same as over here; stop at stop signs, wear seatbelts, pedestrians have right of way, STAY IN YOUR LANE, etc. It took a while for our driver to get the concept of the stop signs, but we got him 'trained' eventually. We drove around for a while until realizing that we were going further into the hinterland, and decided to ask for directions. We stopped at this fire station and got the right directions. Finally arriving into the right part of town, we checked into the Subic International hotel. This was the way the Philippines looked when I left. The buildings were built in the late 1960s, and had been left that way with little or no modifications. So the decor and layouts were very sixties. One thing I noticed immediately was that this place was a ghost town. Hardly anyone anywhere, even when we went out for dinner by the seashore. Although it was mostly deserted, I kinda enjoyed the break from the crowds. For dinner, we headed to this place called "Pier One". Tables were set up on the pier, and we had a great (but brief) view of the seaside and bay. Then it got dark. It was a little breezy, but I was enjoying the cooler air. Rodie was remarking about not bringing a jacket... I thought, geez! Remember how we used to brave those blizzards when we went night skiing? And this is just a gentle night breeze. Well, I guess you get acclimated anywhere after a while. Dinner was a repeat of local favorites - sisig, adobong tangkong, shrimp, kare-kare, etc. Again, it was good! After dinner, with nothing else to do, we dropped J&A the hotel, while the boys made a quick 'ronda' around the town outside. After finally finding the exit gate, we 'toured' Olongapo. Nothing to see really, especially at night. Just the same old traffic, tricycles, jeepneys, Lhuiller pawn shops, the same stuff... The absence of bars or nightlife establishments was noticeable, though. They must have 'cleaned up' the town. Now all that is left is the squalor and confusion, without the red lights. So we went to the hotel. The a/c in our room was just going full tilt, but I didn't mind. It made going to sleep that much easier...

If it's Monday, we must be in Manila... January 17, 2005

2005-02-10T16:06:00.000-08:00

Ever since crossing the international date line, I had lost any sense of days and dates. What was important now was to keep focused on our itinerary, and be at or near the place(s) we needed to be. After breakfasting with Rod at a nearby kainan (eatery), we were to meet up with Jen and Ads back at the Intercon in Makati. When we got there, they were nowhere to be found, until they surfaced from their newly-found breakfast hangout... Jollibee's down the block next to the huge SM. The first place we went from there was Libingan to visit Ernie's grave. Passing the main gate, you make two quick right turns, then you are there... The balite tree nearby, which was not much more than a twig when it was first planted there more than twenty years ago, had grown to be this humongous tree. This was my first time back to visit Ernie's grave since I left. Next to his was a cross with Daddy's name, which Louie had ordered during his past visits - as a memorial. We had some prayers at the gravesite, and after recomposing ourselves, we decided to take a quick tour of Manila's sights. We stopped briefly to look at the Rizal Monument on Roxas/Dewey Blvd...(?)... and I noticed that the area had been cleaned up since the last time I saw it. All the nightclubs and other seedy joints lining the bay had been removed. We proceeded to Intramuros, and walked around to see the grounds. This was where Jose Rizal, the national hero, was interred and eventually executed by the Spanish. There was a replica of his figure in one cell, and his 'last footsteps' were re-created by these brass footprints leading to the execution site where he was shot. Also touring with us was a class of young schoolchildren - out on a field trip. The museum that contained some of Rizal's literature and art works was very impressive. On the way out, the children were tracing the famous 'last footsteps' back to the picnic grounds. It was a neat opportunity to take a picture as I saw the symbolism of this scene. Some were running, others skipping and jumping, and yet others took very solemn steps tracing the footsteps. There may still be some hope left for the Philippines...After checking out the shops for some balisongs and other souvenirs, we were getting hungry for lunch. Jenny suggested Max's Fried Chicken, which was still at the same location when I went there the last time. We ordered their 'Table Special - C", which was a combination of dishes, served family style. Stuff like: sisig, kare-kare, fried chicken (of course) with camote fries, sinigang, etc... and pandan buko for dessert. As expected, it was good! We went back to the hotel and made arrangements to meet with relatives in the area at the SM food court. Jenny had also made dinner arrangements at the hotel to meet with Gerry Adevoso, a high ranking Philippine Veterans Affair official from Malacanang. At the SM food court, Tita Lau, Mitzi (whom I had seen over forty years) and Babet came for a quick visit. After the afternoon merienda there, we made ready to meet for dinner. Addie decided to stay and shop at the SM. I also got in touch with Lench Villaluna, who wanted to meet me that evening. I was getting the hang of dealing with several meetings at the same time by now. Dinner at the Intercon was interesting. Jenny had this private room set up for the four of us ; Jen, Rod, Gerry A. and myself. We were talking about cabbages and kings, and discussion eventually led to Foundation and veterans affairs matters. It was fun to participate in this high-level meeting, and remain on a first-name basis with some rather important people. After cementing some fundamental understanding between the principals, I excused myself since Lench had arrived and was waiting at the lobby. Lench drove me to this place they call 'Rockwell', which used to be a huge power plant that was converted into a shopping mall, with clusters of new restaurants and bistros all around. If I didn't already know where I was, I could swear we were back at Manhattan or Redondo Beaches, less the seashore. Lots of moneyed people all around, hanging out and enjoying the nightlife. We ducked into a 'wine' bar, where Lench ordered a bottle of Cabernet, which we took all night to finish. We caught up where we left off, and made plans to get the other guys when I got back later that week. After asking Lench how the local bands sounded, he took me to this nightclub called 'Strums', not too far from where we were, to check out the scene. This was already around 1:00 a.m. The place wasn't crowded, and we stayed to catch a set of the band playing. The players were very good, mostly newer R&B stuff, and some classic R&R. They would even get some of the patrons to perform, like a 'karaoke' setting. And some of the patrons were better singers than the regular band. Getting to be so late, I told Lench to take me back since he had to work the next day. So he dropped me off, and we made plans to meet with the old gang when I got back. Tomorrow’s schedule was going to be as hectic, but all in all, I was still holding up pretty well. Well, we shall see. I was bushed, and was sawing logs before my head even hit the pillow...

Sinulog Sunday - January 16, 2005

2005-02-09T14:02:00.000-08:00

After the usual buffet breakfast at the hotel, we were picked up by Conching and headed for Mango Square. This was on the parade route of the Sinulog, and had proven to be a good place to see the parade from both street level, and later from a higher location. From the parking lot at the Rustan's mall on Mango Avenue, we mingled right into the masses. Just like the traffic around here, crowd control varies with the moment. It was just wall-to-wall with all kinds of people streaming in and out of everywhere. After taking a couple of posed shots with the paraders who were resting until the parade started moving again, we decided to go upstairs this building owned/operated by someone connected to the 'family.' I think his name was Johnson Go..(?).. born and raised in San Francisco, but recalled to Cebu to run the family business. Part of that biz involved this building we ascended, which I learned later, used to be a radio station of sorts. We certainly had a great vantage point from upstairs, above the crowds, in this air-conditioned empty room. It even had a bathroom... well, okay, barely had one. But it worked. Downstairs were all kinds of "kainan" (eateries). Later on we went to one of them and had some "puso" (rice cooked in a diamond shaped basket made from coconut leaves) and barbeque. In between, we watched the paraders and remarked that a lot of those kids (and some were really young - like third graders or so) must have started at three in the morning, and had been parading all day. It was about four o'clock when the parade was nearing its end, and the crowds began moving en masse again, going every which way home. We took a quick tour through Jones up to the Capitolyo one more time, then headed towards Fuente Osmena, then towards San Carlos University. It was interesting to see the old familiar buildings, except I couldn’t recognize Fuente Osmena anymore, as there had been so many changes in and around it. Next time, though, I'll take a walking tour to see San Carlos and such up close. Since we had the foresight to check out and bring our luggage for our trip to Manila that night in the van, we had some time to kill. Conching brought us to another resort - the Bluewater in Maribago. It is another wonderful resort, maybe a little older than the Shangri-La. While there, we decided to have dinner, and ended up - have you guessed yet? - in a buffet... The neat thing about this place where we dined was the live entertainment they provided. Local musicians using local made instruments (guitar, bass, banduria) serenaded us with old favorites, like "Walk Don't Run", "Pipeline", "Hawaii 5-0"... then they got even closer and played some really nostalgic music that I remember hearing when I was growing up in Cebu..."Green Fields". It was such a nice welcome back. Soon we had to go to the airport, and rather than have our hostess wait around, we just asked to be dropped off. The PAL trip to Manila was crowded, but didn't take too long at all. By the time the place landed, both phones were busy with text messages - to and from Rod. We finally met up outside the terminal, but we couldn't find our hired vehicle. When we finally got everything into the vehicle, we dropped off J&A at the Intercon in Makati, while I proceeded with Rod at his place. There wasn't going to be any sleeping tonight, I thought. So many things to catch up, so many stories to retell just from the first part of our trip. But around three a.m., I was already crashing sitting up. So, after a couple of hours sleep, we both got up early. After a quick cold shower, I was good to go. We decided to have breakfast nearby. Right across the street from Rod's condo, there is a Metro Bank. Next to that, there is a pool hall/restaurant called Metro Bar. Next to that, there is a sari-sari store named... Metro Mart. Hmm. I sensed some kind of theme going on here. Anyway, we ordered the Tapsilog with Pepsi breakfast for two, which came to a whopping 100 pesos...that's less than two dollars. Later, we rejoined J&A at Intercon, but couldn't locate them at first. Pala, they were breakfasting at Jollibee down the corner from SM. The breakfast buffet at the Intercon was way too pricey, and the SM food court was just around the corner. I’ll save it for the next post for the adventures we had in Manila and such.

Meanwhile, as Technology Marches On...

2005-02-08T22:43:00.000-08:00

So, I finally got a local SIM card to make my ATT celfone work.  Only problem, it wouldn't work because my celfone needed to be 'cracked' or 'opened' to accept the local SIM card.

Okay. Got that done at SM finally, for about 800 pesos; at 56 to the dollar, you do the math... Smart thinking: while getting my celfone cracked, I might as well get additional minutes by purchasing an "e-load" card, for about 500 pesos. Got it.

So when I got back to the hotel, I tried to 'load' my celfone with the prepaid card, but it STILL wouldn't work. WHAT GIVES?!?!

Not So Smart Thinking: I installed a SMART Buddy SIM card, but I bought a GLOBAL e-Card... no can do! Finding out the hard way, you have to stay with the same 'brand' of prepaid cards... so I had to buy SMART e-load cards.

Speaking of e-loads, Armen told us this funny (but true) story.  No matter how poor you think people are over there (especially in the provinces), they can still find the pulse on the information superhighway.  One of their tenant farmers, living in the stereo-typical nipa hut, would go to their offices to get an advance on their wages.  When asked what the pressing need was, the reply would be.."sir, mag pa-load ko, sir... hurut na ang akong minutes.."  (Sir, I need to re-load my celfone because I ran out of minutes)....!?!?

If you think using a celfone while driving on the road here is bad enough, imagine people TEXTING while driving over there! And they do!  It costs about one peso per text message sent, so texting has become the primary mode of communication there. Other than getting carpal thumb syndrome, most of the skill required goes to deciphering.

4 x mpl, dis s d way 2 x p dite ur msg, f u cn d cifer it.

Worse pa, f u mix local wrds, di loco2x na!

But u nd 2 b cre8tive n ur chois of wrds, like: atbpa = at iba pa,
[number][multiplier]= repeat words, like loco2x = loco loco, etc.

So, when my friends asked me why we don't text as much here in the U.S., they were somewhat surprised when I replied -"we use the celfone to talk to each other."

What a concept...

Olio - January 15, 2005

2005-02-08T22:16:00.000-08:00

Back from a hectic (which part of this trip wasn't?) return trip from San Carlos via the long away to our hotel, we were picked up by our host's intrepid driver, Ting, who was remarking how terrible the traffic really got.

We proceeded to that night's venue, which was a restaurant called Olio.  It wasn't too far from the hotel, but to get there, we were like the proverbial salmon swimming upstream against a tide of never ending traffic... from ALL directions.

As it turned out, we were the first to get there.  Olio is owned by Johanna's family, and ran by her older brother, Eric and his wife Gladys.  This place was something else!

It is tucked in the back of a row of other newer establishments, mostly restaurants catering to the A+ crowds, both domestic and foreign.  I learned later that celebs hung out at this place, like FPJ, and other wanna-be leaders of state.

The decor is ultra modern, very minimalist, high tech, concrete & steel, and large picture windows.  Without even tasting one bite, I could tell this place was expensive, even in U.S. terms.

Soon enough Conching and other family members arrived, and she called the head chef, Luis, to come out and tell us what was being offered. He rambled off a list of stuff, to which we replied..."kamo na lang ang bahala" (You go ahead and make the choices), because not one of us could decide.

So our continuing gastronomic adventures began anew...

For appetizers, they brought out some baked oysters in cheese.

Then they brought out the foie gras in balsamic sauce, with a piece of endive for 'salad'.

Then they brought out the scallop appetizer.

Then the bouillabaisse soup with squid.

The roast beef and sea bass were the main courses.

A bottle of Cabernet was shared among those who wanted dome wine with dinner.

Then for dessert, they brought out some chilled ripe Guadalupe mangoes.

This was the closest I ever got to eating (and acting) like the giddy starlet on Iron Chef... (hand over mouth while giggling) …. "hihihihi... I feel like...I'm in heaven...hihihihihi…"

That was QUITE a dinner. Terrific!

And as we descended from the top floor, I noticed that only the 'family' and close friends got to eat at that level.  Everyone else, foreigners included, ate at the lower level.  So naturally, people were checking us out when we were leaving, like..."who ARE those people... anyone we recognize?"

All in all, it was quite a treat!

San Carlos - January 14 & 15, 2005

2005-02-04T09:44:00.000-08:00

January 14 – San Carlos
We started the day with the usual breakfast buffet at the Waterfront Hotel. Carlos and Susan joined us for breakfast. But no danggit... dang it! Addie decided to stay put in Cebu while Jenny and I had already planned to head for San Carlos. After breakfast, we took a trip across Cebu towards Toledo, which is on the shoreline facing Negros. Riding in Carlos' Landcruiser, I was amazed at the green countryside of Cebu, as well as the mountain elevations. The newly constructed highway was wide and winding. I never realized that Cebu had such a diverse topography, and the trip over the mountains reminded me of Baguio. We even hit light fog at the higher elevations. At the highest altitude, Carlos got to contact San Carlos by CB, and it was clear as a bell. During the trip, we spoke of many things, and mostly catching up for the last 35 or so years. We reminisced about our frequent summer visits to their house in San Marcelino, and common experiences we had both in Manila and Baguio. It was good to reconnect. We got to the pier in Toledo, and because Carlos is such a regular customer on the ferries (I image because he goes to San Carlos often), the locals treated us like royalty. We boarded this high-speed launch owned and operated by the WeeSam company. It's sort of like the trip over to Catalina from San Pedro. Half an hour, and we were in San Carlos.

At the San Carlos pier, Merci (Armen's wife) and Pocholet met us in their SUVs. I was taking it in, as this was my first time ever to visit Daddy's hometown. So many feelings rose up while I looked at the places I only read about, like the pier we were on - which was the same one when he embarked on the ship heading for PMA. Driving through town, Merci quickly pointed out the house where Daddy grew up. I wanted to stop, but I knew we would save that for another time. We headed for the "big house" at the San Jose farm, only about 3 km. from town. We got to this compound through a guarded gate, a series of buildings which seemed like a small barrio, with a school and church, and then parked in front of this huge house. It is the quintessential hacienda house that one often sees in pictures; capiz shell window panes and chandeliers, open balcony, hardwood floors upstairs, marble tiled stairways. a huge bodega/office on the bottom floor, a full sized knight's armor guarding the stairway. Think of parabellum mansions in the South, only this is the Filipino version. Upstairs waiting for us were Tito Justing and Tita Abing - both looking a little older and maybe a bit frailer, but still full of life. We had a tumultuous greeting... hilak-hilak tanan (everyone was crying). It had been too long when we saw each other last. Many conversations took place at the same time. So much catching up to do. Conversation led to the Sinulog. And then I found out some real meanings for the whole thing.

Sinulog is the 'dance' step they use during the procession - two advancing, one retreating, like the tides (or sulog - hence Sinulog... "like the movement of the tides"). Pit Senyor comes from the phrase... "ga-sampit ko sa senyor", which means "I beseech the Lord", as in a prayer to the Santo Nino. So, there you have it. The 'official' versions.

After a private lunch with both Tito Justing and Tita Abing, we were rejoined in the afternoon by Merci, Pocholet and his wife Lita, to cruise around San Carlos. We stopped by their respective houses in town to pick up last minutes things (kuno), but it was a good excuse to show off their abodes. Then we proceeded to their family farm villa (as opposed to the corporate house we were staying at called San Jose) known as Villa Florida. It was in the middle of hectares and hectares of sugar cane, above a long paved driveway. Below it was a chapel, complete with stained glass windows imported from Spain. No one lives there now since the incident involving the NPA some years ago. Although they offer the villa as a retreat for clerics and corporate guests. It is rural life at its best. Green all around, and not much else.

From Villa Florida, we cruised around other farms, and got a quick historical tour of the place. We met up with Armen who broke away from a meeting at another farm, and made plans to meet for dinner at San Jose. Getting back to the house in San Jose, we had a chance to talk with Tito Justing about economics, politics, the Foundation, and such. I was amazed at how brilliant his mind still is, as we discussed the current state of affairs in haciendas, operational challenges, etc. It was one of those conversations I always wanted to have with him. We both learned a lot. Soon Pocholet, Armen and family came, this time bringing his youngest son - Luis. Conversation ensued and was lively between the 'older' men, and I noticed Luis was looking a bit like a third wheel. So I asked him what he thought about all the discussions going on, and his answer surprised everyone, including himself. It was something like learning how to read; at first nothing made sense, then the letters and words became more recognizable. It was a realization that he was now aware of where he stood in the line of legacy, and the prospects and anxieties that come along with it. It was a 'peek' moment when three generations had this conversation. Conversation continued through dinner, and after a long, emotional day, Armen and family went home, and we all retired for the night.

January 15 -
I was wide awake at 4:30 a.m., and decided to explore the San Jose house. During an earlier conversation, someone explained to me that this house used to be the main house of the Tabacalera plantations, which was established close to 100 years ago. President Quezon and other dignitaries supposedly slept here during their escape route out of the Philippines in WWII. It had also been burned during the war, but was rebuilt soon after liberation, using wood from other even older establishments in the area. It was like living in a museum, full of relics from the past. As I was perusing over the library area, the power went out. Jenny had also just gotten up and was just stepping out of the bedroom when the blackout occurred. So we both just stood there until the lights came back on. Meanwhile, it was dark. I remembered how dark it could get in the provinces. After the lights and power came back up, we chatted by the open balcony. It made me think of how people must have lived back in the days when Daddy was just a young boy here in San Carlos. Life was so simple then, but perhaps not as easy either. Soon Tita Abing came around and the custom here, I guess, is coffee first before breakfast. It gave me another chance to explore the grounds while Jenny and Tita Abing had their own private conversations. As I took photos of the grounds, Armen and gang showed up for breakfast.

After breakfast, Merci had already planned to take us around town. Jenny wanted to see three things; Lola Bina's (Papa Ernie's mom) gravesite, Daddy's old school where he taught, and Daddy's house where he grew up. The original gravesite had been relocated to a new memorial cemetery due to the city development, and the remains of our ancestors were relocated to a mass grave there; Lola Bina, Lolo Indong, Tita Abing's folks, etc. We visited the town church where Daddy used to go to mass. Then we swung by the school where Daddy used to teach. It is now a very large and modern facility, complete with an aviary! Then we swung by Daddy's ancestral house, which was in town. We found Annie and Jimmy there, who were so surprised to see us, as they had no idea we were in town. They are our cousins from Daddy's side. The house was being worked on, but one side still looked very much like it did when it was first built; nipa, wood and bamboo construction. I took pictures of all those places. Then it was time to head for the pier for our ferry back to Toledo, Cebu. After a half-hour journey on the WeeSam speed launcher, we were back in Cebu where Carlos was waiting.

Back to Bataan
There are three ways to get across Cebu today. The original and sole route back then was this precipitous route called Manipis - (meaning "real thin", or precarious). Now the roads are somewhat wider, but some parts are still rough due to either neglect, or maintenance funds somehow got 'diverted'. Anyway, we took the Naga-Uling rode back to Cebu, which hooked up to this new highway that would take you from Talisay into the Fort San Pedro area. Halfway thru, we got diverted because it was now in the thick of Sinulog fever. So we backtracked through some places like Minglanilla, Tubay, and other places I had remotely only heard about before. Meanwhile, during our conversations with Carlos, we asked him how involved he was in the family business; i.e., operating the haciendas. He explained that the way things are, it was "muy fracasado" for his taste. Soon we ended up in Talamban area, and as we were on the corner of V. Rama, we were really stuck in the gridlock for about a half hour. We finally managed to sneak around, and ended up, of all places, on Bataan street! I seized this opportunity to take a lot more pictures of the old place, and asked a passerby how many years the house had been vacant. He said.."not years, but about six months.." Hmm. Interesting! I wondered if it's available or in the market... Finally we made it back to our hotel. With our nerves all frazzled from the longer than expected road trip, we decided to cool our heels at the hotel. Addie soon caught up with us, just long enough for a merienda, and then Conching called to let us know of dinner plans at their restaurant called "Olio." And that experience deserves an entry all its own...

Eat, shop, and reminisce - January 13, 2005 - Cebu

2005-02-03T16:43:00.000-08:00

The buffet breakfast at the Waterfront Hotel was great! They had the usual toast, cereal and waffles stuff for the die-hard 'canos. But they also had the local stuff like: congee (lugao - remember?) with all the assorted toppings, garlic fried rice, the famed danggit (small dried fried fish - crunchillicious!), longaniza, tapa, corned beef, and even spam! Well, you can guess which section I went to. Plus fresh mango, pineapple, and corresponding juices to boot! Discussion during breakfast revolved around the proper amounts to tip; inadvertently, we were overtipping like crazy the first few days, especially since I had no real feel for the currency yet. Plus the 55 to 1 factor. Hard not to over tip. But soon enough we got the hang of things.

After breakfast, Conching came by with the car, and we proceeded to the famous SM - Shoe Mart, for the rest of us novitiates. We had also decided that Jenny and I would take a quick trip to San Carlos, since we were practically there. Arriving at SM, with the requisite bag-checks-with-the-chopstick routine at the front door, we split ways. Addie went thataway, I went to get my celfone 'cracked', Jen and Conching headed for the PAL office to get airline tickets to Negros and our eventual trip to Manila. Got my celfone in good order, and decided to buy additional prepaid minutes, which they call an "e-load", like... magpa-load ka, sir? So I bought a GLOBAL e-load card (this is significant later).

After our stint at SM, Conching decided to take us to Shangrila in Mactan. We get there, through the usual security checks, and we got a quick tour of the place. It is one beautiful resort! We were told that even the white sands on their beach was imported. The water was so clear, I was amazed at how clean everything was! Of course, it was filled with foreigners, and the only locals to be found worked there... other than us visiting the place. Conching suggested to have lunch at their dim sum place, which we did. This was my first introduction to Coke Light. As expected, lunch was superb. And after a pre-emptive move by Jen to cover for lunch, which startled out hostess to no end, we cruised around Mactan to look at guitars. After getting lost around the older area of Mactan, and being given the correct directions by no less than a security guard and the half-dozen hawkers milling around the car, we found Lilang's Guitars. Not wanting to hog the time, I quickly perused over their guitars and really liked the bandurias, but the guitars themselves were short of what I was expecting. So we headed back to the city, where Conching was dropped off at ther mother's house in Mabolo. She gave the car and driver for us to dispense with until dinner time. Okay! Now, we're in cruising mode...

First stop was the Basilica of the Santo Nino, which was a good decision, because as Sinulog drew nearer, the masses of people increased exponentially... inevitably heading for the Basilica. This would be akin to the pilgrimage made in Mecca, where all the faithful gathered from all over. We got to see Magellan's Cross which is next to the Basilica; fought our way into the Basilica; lined up to actually touch the glass partition housing the Santo Nino; lit some candles on the candelarium in the courtyard, and made our exit. Gridlock was getting imminent all over. We finally wound our way onto Mango Avenue, where many of the familiar sights came to view: the San Carlos Boy's High and Seminary, where I remembered being frightened by an angry pet monkey on a leash while visiting Rodie who was in seminary then; the St. Theresa's College, where I'm sure someone in the family went to; the huge Iglesia Ni Kristo church that still loomed as it did back then; then ened up on Jones Avenue. Looking up Jones, I saw a really familiar sight - it was the Capitolyo, or the Capitol Building. A quick left, then it was Marcial Velez street. What seemed like a distance from the Capitolyo to the bridge over the sapa where we used to play before, was now actually only a few yards away. The old Sian (or Xian) store at the corner was no longer there. A quick right onto Andres Abellana, then a left at the second block after, we were back in Bataan street. The Rodriguez house on the corner was now a huge four-story building. The Brioneses house now occupied the entire lot. The Faigao's house looked recently remodeled. Another new house now stood on the once-empty field across our house. And our old house on 12 Bataan street was still there. It was empty, but virtually unchanged since I last saw it. Some of the trees were gone - like the huge caimito aand chico trees, and perhaps even the tambis tree by our bedroom. But all in all, whoever lived there didn't change the structure much. I got as many pictures as I could but didn't want to seem like a stalker. Some schoolboys were also peeking in with us. I'm thinking that had anyone who lived there seen us, they would have freaked - because we were the same ghosts that habitually haunted this place.

Sometime earlier, we got a hold of the Valmayors in Negros. We told them of our plans to fly into Bacolod, take the first bus and ride to San Carlos. Armen, Merci and eventually even Tito Justing said - no, no, no! Call Carlos, who now lives in Cebu, and he would drive us to Toledo, where we could take a ferry straight into San Carlos, and save all that travel time. Problem was, the plane tickets were already bought and paid for. We got a hold of Carlos, who wanted to meet us right away, but Jenny persuaded him to meet us after our dinner commitment, to which he agreed.

Dinnertime comes around, and we are once again picked up by our hostess and transport, taken to a reatuarant not too far down the street called Ching's Palace. It was packed with large tables, filled with families, mostly Chinese. We met Conching's mother, friends, and other relatives. Dinner was the typical Chinese laureat (sp?) - if there is such a thing as typical, and the dishes kept on coming! Each new dish topped the incredible one previously served. And the taste... just like we said before... there's just no comaprison!

After dinner, we 'struggled' back to the hotel where we waited for Carlos to show up. We had no idea what he looked like now, since it had been at least 35 years since we last saw each other. Not too long after, Jenny spotted him, because she thought she saw a yery young Tito Justing. Spitting image of the old man in his prime! After the initial hearty greetings at the hotel lobby, we decided to take it elsewhere where we could talk more quietly. We went across the hotel to this park-like place which had several outdoor-type restaurants, and ordered some after-dinner coffee and drinks. We also met his new wife, Susan, who is a dentist. Discussion finally got around to our trip to San Carlos. Apparently, Carlos did get his marching orders from Tito Justing to make sure that we got to San Carlos the quickest way possible. That meant that he would drive us across Cebu to Toledo, take the ferry there to San Carlos, and do the opposite when we returned the next day. We made our case about the tickets being paid already, etc. But he said it was already ordained by the Big Boss that we not waste our time travelling. "I-labay na lang kanang tiketa (Throw those tickets away... ) because by the time you get there, you'll need to start heading back again!" And he was right, if we wanted to maximize our already short visit with the old folks. But instead of just throwing the tickets, why not ask for a refund? So we arranged for Carlos to get the refund, if he could. We had a good visit, and since we were leaving early next morning, we decided to cut it short until we hit the road again.

So we all turned in for the night.

Past Perfect...Present Tense - - January 12, 2005 continued

2005-02-02T20:18:00.000-08:00

From the Queen City Cemetery, we took a cab over to the Ayala Center Mall. Nothing is really that far, since Cebu is small. I'm struggling to recognize any remnants from the past, but I'm just amazed at the numbers of people all over, as well as the new developments - all thirty five years' worth. We get to Ayala Mall, which is in the middle of new high rises and open parks. It's not as big as Del Amo, but plenty big with lots of shops inside. From woodcarvings to bookstores, and everything between. We decided to have merienda, so we ducked into this place called Cafe Laguna. Addie ordered fresh lumpia, Jenny ordered pancit palabok, and with the thought of the missed congee still floating in my mind, I ordered arroz caldo. And Diet Coke is called Coke Light in these parts. The food comes, we taste, and it is sooo gooood! For dessert, Addie orders something pandan, and Jen and I have halo-halo. Mmmm! So different, but so good! The real thang! With ube ice cram AND leche flan! Nothing beats home cooking, and I was definitely home!

After merienda, we decided to shop for a while. It was my opportunity to get a SIM card for my phone. So I looked around and end up inside a National Bookstore, which is probably like their version of our B. Dalton or Borders here. I found a small booth with the Smart Buddy advertising, so I asked the young man tending the booth. He said he sold them, but I needed to prepay for it first, and directed me to their cashiers about a couple of feet behind me. So when I asked to pay for the card, and the cashiers had this long blank look - like a thousand yard stare - and not understanding what I was trying to transact. I turned around and told the young guy to explain, then she responded like waking from a dream. At that point, I realized that many of the people working there had that same exact expression on their faces. Some thoughts that came up at the moment made me think they were quite depressed, or at worst - feeling real hopelessness. Later, when talking to Jenny about this, she gave me her insight that these people looked that way most probably because they were undernourished. Or in plainer language, they were hungry...

At any rate, I paid for the card, got the receipt, turned around to the booth to get the card, and finally figured out their 'system' of business transactions. So the guy gives me the SIM card and I try to insert it...and it doesn't work....!#$%&!!. I remembered something about having to 'crack' or 'open' the phone codes to make these things work, and asked the guy if they did. He referred me to another shop upstairs, where I went. There, I explained to the young salesgirl about my problem, and she said..."sorry sir, but you need to go to SM." And being unfamiliar with SM, I asked where again, about three or four times. She responded with increasing agitation.." Sa SM, sir.."..."yes sir, sa SM, sir.."..."SM, sir.."...SA SM LAGI,SIR!" And I was was struggling to decode SM, I finally cracked THAT code... SM... Shoe Mart... or as some locals might even say..."sa Sue Mart, sir!" Okay! Now, I got new SIM card that doesn't work, but I know where to get it fixed! Things were looking up!!

Back at the Waterfront hotel, I decide to buy some bottled water for our room at the Duty Free shop in the lobby. I get my purchases over to the cashier desk, and there must have been no less than 5 or 6 girls chatting and working the station. They ask me for my passport, which I hand over. After over 5 minutes, I ask what their system was - why it was taking so long for a sale. They said they were registering my passport. Okay. So finally I pay, hand my money, get change and a receipt. Not one foot away, another girls asks for the receipt so she can 'stamp' it. Okay. Not two feet from that, exiting the door, this guys asks me for the receipt which I'm sure he saw throughout the entire transaction, so he can check it against the merchandise. I'm beginning to formulate my impression on the speed of business around here - which goes like this: no doubt you've heard of analogies about commerce and businesses operating like a well-oiled machine. Well, it seems that over here, the speed of business would be like pouring molasses on that same machine, and then added about the same amount of sand. If you want that machine to move any faster, just insert money in the right slots, and you'll get whatever outcome you desire.

And speaking of money, this one really ticked me off. When we got there, the exchange rate was 56 and change to the dollar in the papers. The hotel was offering 55 to 1. Well, I thought I could do better at the banks. Wrong! Their exchange rates were 52 to 1!!! And these are the official banks of the country, conducting business like legitimate crooks that they are!?!?!? What's up with that??? Okay, 'nuff said.

Later that night, we were picked up by Johanna's mom (Conchita) who took us to their beautiful house in Maria Luisa, a very exclusive subdivision; i.e. large estates, et al, for dinner. She made us fresh lumpia and some yang chow fried rice. If you've never had fresh lumpia before, you need to taste one in your lifetime. Mmmm good!! with the fresh garlic and peanut sauce, and everything... As it happened, that was the same night for their bible study group too, so we had the opportunity to meet not only Johanna's other siblings (Irene and Jed), but also her other relatives, in-laws, and family friends. Conching made sure we got back to the hotel safe by having her driver take us back. Our driver, Ting, seemed to prefer driving on the left side - where opposing traffic would often back down when he approached, since he was driving us in this brand new huge Ford Van. I think Conching must have purchased it just to be sure we could fit into a vehicle when we arrived. I dunno. Just my guess.

First Impressions - January 12, 2005

2005-01-13T16:02:00.000-08:00

At Mactan airport, we queued up for our passport check. There must have been about a hundred or so waiting, and only two people checking our docs. We were greeted by a small troupe of musicians and even got a beaded mango necklace, a la a Hawaiian Aloha, only in Cebuano. Soon enough we hustled over to the luggage carousel where we hefted our huge suitcases onto a trolley and proceeded to the 'customs' check out gate. The guard was waving us thru while simultaneously asking..."Anything to declare?" I didn't think he was too interested in getting any sort of reply, as he waved us to go thru quickly like a toreador getting out of the toro's way. Then we finally get onto the streets of Cebu... after all these years, I finally made it back! There were so many people hawking for their services - tickets of some sort, porters, cab drivers... then we spotted our driver who carried our travel agent's sign.

Driving to our hotel (the Waterfront at Lahug), I sat in front and began taking shots of scenes I wanted to remember. There were so many people now, maybe also because of the Sinulog festival, but just wall to wall people all over. And the traffic was thick and slow, but moving. Tricycles with seven passengers seemed to be the norm. Jeepneys had become much larger, more like converted mini vans or trucks with the usual rear access door and open air side windows. Colors and graphic schemes had moved along with the times too, mostly sporting a high tech look. But still gaudy and colorful. It seemed that some form of establishment was erected on EVERY inch of the roadside - from a barely standing lean-to/sari-sari made with nipa and bamboo, to a car dealership, a pawn shop (Lhuillier), then a bank, a huge office building, a jazz night club, etc. Enterprise was alive and thriving from the micro to the macro levels of society. No standards to speak of, but humming like a beehive of activity.

There, I noticed that all the appurtenances of traffic; e.g., lights, lanes, signs, etc. were merely rough guidelines - everyone seemed to do their own thing everywhere. Traffic seemed to be 'convertible' here. Opposing two-lane traffic quickly becomes three lanes versus one as drivers overtake slower cars by using the opposite lane...then the street turns into a one-way direction as everyone tries to overtake each other until gridlock occurs...then the car at the righmost lane decides to make a u-turn in front of ALL traffic, regardless of direction... then one lane starts backing up because a bigger vehicle is trying to get through. Jenny's guidebook stated..."as for traffic in the Philippines- all drivers seem to be employed by satan..." Quite an understatement, in my opinion. Every vehicular excursion is a near-accident, but they rarely occur because people drive slower than 25 kilometers per hour. Regardless, one cannot afford to get emotionally (or logically) attached to traffic there unless you want it to drive you insane.

So we finally get to the Waterfront Hotel, which is a huge building. Security personnel are everywhere, looking into purses with a long chopstick or frisking everyone with a handy metal detector. There was even a black garbed guard with a dog, and huge "K-9" lettering on his shirt. I'm not sure if those dogs are really trained or house pets. Nevertheless, they were accommodating enough to be photographed. After checking into our room, we began trying to place calls and found out that the only way to make a long distance call is to leave a credit card at the receptionist, which we did, and still didn't work, because the international operators required it. And then they only accepted some kinds of credit cards - VISA was not included. Meanwhile, Don had outfitted us with Johanna's celfone which was rigged to take text messages - and Rod, as well as Johanna's mom (Conching) were texting us already. Okay... But the problem was, not one of us knew anything about this 'texting' business... so I became the designated 'texter' for the group. And I had to learn the whole system fast, as the messages were piling up, and we needed to respond somehow... and soon! After inadvertently deleting a few messages and fumbling around, I managed to retrieve and respond to the messages. I also decided to convert my ATT celfone as a backup device, and needed to get a SIM card.

The plan for that evening was that Conching was going to pick us up and have dinner at her house in Maria Luisa. Addie suggested we go visit the graves of Papa Lolo, Mama Lola, and Mother at Queen City Cemetery, then go to the Ayala Center Mall. We took a taxi to Queen City, and after a brief visit to the gravesite, we headed to Ayala Mall.

I'll pick it up from here on the next blog.

Taking off, and getting there. - January 11-12, 2005

2005-01-12T21:59:00.000-08:00

After the impromptu scramble with the luggage, and having checked in, we decided to kill an hour or so by dining at the airport food court. Already, I felt like I was in a foreign land... there were so many travelers of all sorts milling about, also looking for a quick bite and a place to sit. Addie opted for McD's, while Jen, Don and I went for Japanese noodles and sushi. After dinner, we again lined up for another security check - this time for passengers only. I was sure I'd have to disrobe at least two thirds of my clothes to get through, but in fact the security screening seemed really quick. Even with a laptop, celfones, and a hefty carry-on valise. So we find our gate and camp out in the middle of sleeping co-boarders; the Korean group in front were watching "House of Flying Daggers" on their DVD, which I tried to peek in as well, but was getting a stiff neck. So I got back to checking and rechecking my passport, tickets, boarding pass, the hidden money pouch which was beginning to be really annoying... then we were called to board.

We had seats 68 A,B and C. Which in airplane seating is past the middle of the plane, but not quite all the way to the back, There's this seldom used skill(but practical) you need to adopt when traveling in planes; it's called the Egyptian Shuffle. Basically, you walk forward sideways, with your leading hand holding your first carry-on, and the rear hand dragging your second carry-on. Your form will look something like an Egyptian heiroglyph, except you're inevitably bumping into the arm rests and other passengers who tarry too long in the aisles. The advanced form of this skill (for the really seasoned balikbayans) is the Modified Padala Quinto-Grip while doing the Egyptian Shuffle. Basically, you're carrying a bag or package of sorts IN EVERY FINGER while assuming the position. Not one to be tried by inexperienced novices, I am told.

The flight crew all spoke in English accents, even when they reverted to Cantonese. We were told that the entire flight was going to be over 15 hours, since the flight plan required us to fly along the Alaskan shoreline, then down the Asian continent until arriving at Honk Kong. Good thing the plane wasn't fully loaded, which gave us room to spread out and take a bank of chairs to ourselves. This proved to be a real blessing later, as it allowed us to stretch when we slept.

Behind each seat was an embedded LCD monitor where you could choose to watch TV (really recorded CNN news played in a loop), movies, or a graphic display of the plane's geographic position during travel, including some technical data - like miles toward destination, altitude, temperature, etc. Along with some cheesy distorted classical music.

Then they served dinner, and I was glad to have had something earlier, because the portions were kinda small. I think we had Pork Noodles. Two hours before landing, breakfast was served. We had a choice between some kind of omelet, or abalone congee. Not really sure what congee was, I opted for the omelet. When I found out that congee is really nothing but lugao (or rice porridge), I wished that I would have chosen it. But I knew I'd make it up somewhere somehow - maybe on the trip back.

Jan. 12, 2005 - Crossed over the international time zone while we were zonked out. At this point, days, dates and times became increasingly confusing. What only mattered was whether it was daytime or night time.

Finally landing at Honk Kong, we began to trek towards our connecting flight to Cebu. While getting on the second set of moving sidewalks, I realize that my regular glasses are missing, as I had switched to sunglasses when we landed. I had a choice to either request the airline staff to retrieve it, or get it myself. I chose to go back and get it myself, because by the time the airline people would have gotten to it, we would probably miss our connection. Which, later we learned, happened to one traveling group the previous day, as they were dilly dallying between flights. So - mishap number... I lost count after the last one... I dash back into the plane right behind the cleaning crew who are also scrambling to prepr the plane for the next set of passengers. I'm weaving through the aisles like Popeye Doyle... and finally found my glasses which DID drop on the floor where we sat. Whew! Now, I had to double back to find Jenny and Addie who had gone ahead to the next gate. Not five minutes when we regrouped, we were boarded again, heading for Mactan. This time, we sat all the way in the back. But being a short flight (2 hours or so), it was okay. I sat next to a returning expat, also from Cebu. When nearing Mactan, he showed me where Kanlaon volcano was (in Negros), then as we got lower, I was amazed at the mountains and greenery of Cebu. I had always thought it was flat! But the rural areas was just so amazing - and then the number of houses that dotted began to multiply rapidly. Finally we landed in Mactan airport. I remembered the last time I landed on this airport was probably in the summer of 1969, when Daddy, Sammy and I went to our one and only trip to the farms in Malubog and Ingin.

Looking out the window, I was greeted with the sight of something familiar about Cebu - clear blue skies, great white puffy cumulus clouds, and coconut trees swaying in the breeze.

The igoy had landed...

Lost already...and haven't even left the airport yet.

2005-01-11T02:10:00.000-08:00

It's still pouring by the time we head to Addie's on the way to LAX. Last minute trips to Rite Aid and banks to make sure we have enough cash to buy the necessary first aid stuff we might need over there. So we get to the Cathay terminal with this mountain of luggage. Naturally we get a porter who speeds through lines of people waiting there for weeks. Along the way, Jenny meets up with the travel agent and they star chatting. Meanwhile the porter is trucking away with our stuff to the far end of the terminal. I am caught spinning between the porter and keeping Jenny and Addie in eyesight. But you can only stretch so far. By the time the porter tells me the luggage is entering the first security check, Jenny and Addie are nowhere to be found. I am scrambling between trying to identify how many pieces of luggage, or even to identify them, which I have completely forgotten, while running what seems to be sprinting records...looking for J & A. I'm lost. The people are looking at me funny since I'm holding up the line. In the middle of this chaos, Don calls my cell phone which I answer something unintelligible, like...wha..wher...how..who...wait!! I see Jenny also circling the terminal looking for me. We finally catch up, and they had already queued at the Cathay line. I get the porter (between gasps) to move our stuff to the Cathay line. Sweat the size of bullets are dripping down my face. Jenny, Addie &Don are breaking up laughing. I didn't think it was THAT amusing. So there you are. And we still had to check in for our flights. More to follow.

Pit Senyor...the two versions.

2005-01-10T02:21:00.000-08:00

Okay. Here are the two version so far of where and how the term "pit senyor" came about. For background, the festival revolves around a Mardi gras style procession of the Santo Nino statue, which was given to the Basilica in Cebu back in 1500 something. Legend has it that when Cebu was bombed, the Basilica (or cathedral) was also ruined along with everything else. Except the statue was untouched. Because of this, legend has it that many miracles, large and small, can be attributed to people praying to this Santo Nino statue. The statue itself is an oddity. It is the Christ Child dressed in the refinements of royalty, with cape and crown. Anyway, the festival consists of a parade that has evolved to compete with similar regional festivals; the Ati-Atihan, where the majority of the paraders blacken their faces and bodies, paint themselves, and play a percussion pattern with any noisemaker they can get. Combine it with the Mardi gras, and you have the Sinulog - where they chant ...pit senyor... ad nausea. It's mainly a made up festival for attracting tourists, just like the other festivals. Another good excuse for the whole town to party.

Okay.

So, version one is: pit senyor is an abbreviated pronunciation of fiesta del senor. "Pista sa senyor" becomes "pit senyor" for short.

The second version is more colloquial. Because of the masses huddled into each other, the Cebuano term for this claustrophobic condition is ...pi-it. Like..."paskang pi-ita ka-ayo dinhi!" (Man, is THIS place crowded!)

I'm still collecting other version, but so far, those are the two front runners.

Tee minus 24 hours...give or take a lifetime.

2005-01-09T19:31:00.000-08:00

It's raining like our prayers had been answered by the raingods in person. There are rivers to cross at every block. Looking out from the third floor at Ninang's apartment in PV, I see a familiar sight that reminds me of the typhoons we used to get caught in. The rain is beating incessantly on the tall palm trees in the courtyard. Just like the coconut plantation in Siari Valley. In 24 hours, I will actually head back whence I came from - some thirty five years ago. I'm not sure if I'm anxious, excited, or just bi-polar - feeling both extremes of those emotions simultaneously. I'm packed to the hilt and good to go, save for some antibiotics, bugspray, and perhaps some small denominations of pesos, which we aim to get tomorrow. Then it will be the long wait in the terminal at LAX. Flight leaves at 12:15, just past midnight. A two hour stopover at Hong Kong, then we head for the tarmac at Mactan. I'm not even going to anticipate what to expect. Just let things come as they might, and hopefully remember to take a snapshot or two for later analysis. Let's see how this whole thing pans out. One thing I want to find out is this 'thing' they call pit senyor. I'm thinking Vegas; is it a pit boss of sorts, that rules over returning expats during sinulog? And just WHAT is sinulog? So many questions... I'm sure the answers are out there. All for now.