Peru-February 4-28, 2011
February 5
Hola!
Just landed in Lima. Customs was a breeze, very pleasant clerks, and lots of counters, my luggage came with me, thank goodness. The last time I was in this part of the hemisphere, in Ecuador, my luggage went to Bogota and never got to me until I returned to Atlanta, with my new leather backpack, packed inside missing. Had to peel off my sweat shirt, it’s summer here. I have to recheck my luggage to Cuzco, and the first flight out is at 5:45 this morning, arrived here at 12:20 AM so I’m hanging out here at Starbucks. There’s no time difference, direct flight was under 7 hours. Cuzco is in the highlands, so it should be cooler there.
Metty
Feb 6
It hardly snows in Cuzco but the altitude feels like you’re on the ski slopes. Got a slight headache but acclimatizing shouldn’t be a problem. My host serves hot steeped dry coca leaves to cure any discomfort, I could easily become addicted. My host family is great, They don’t speak any English, and for the past 24 hours I’ve been having conversations only in Spanish, and though in broken grammar we’ve gotten acquainted and I’m sure I’d get better speaking it every day. That’s my reason for volunteering in this program. Did you think I’ve gone soft and gone into charitable goody goody work? I have to pay to volunteer in this program and they have sites all over the world and many in Latin america, so I figured if I like them I can continue my Spanish language program with them. From the airport Cuzco looks derelict, with rubble and trash on the streets and abandoned construction projects, but the historical city center, the hub of tourism, is quite charming, with hilly narrow cobblestone alleys, Spanish tile rooftops, and antique churches, framed by the sky and the mountains. The Indians come to the city from the highlands in their colorful costumes to make money off the tourists selling woven items, paintings, leather,etc. Llamas are strolling in car and bus traffic. I took a picture of this kid with his burro, after which he extended his hand for a propina. Oh well, the tourists have educated him already. Plaza de Armas is full of tourists. It was drizzling this afternoon, but as soon as the showers stopped, people streamed into the plaza and filled the benches. There are wonderful restaurants that I need to try very soon, for lomo saltado, and grilled guinea pig, llama, alpaca, goat, etc. The boutiques lining the plaza are stocked with beautifully designed silver and stone jewelry, alpaca apparel, leather goods that are to die for, except they are very expensive, in the high fashion designer price range, so I opted to stay alive. I did buy an alpaca sweater from the Indians for 40 Nuevo Sol, about $15.
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Feb 7
Rik, the Peru country coordinator, who is from Holland, took me out to dinner for orientation at Marcelo Batabata restaurant where I had grilled alpaca with Peruvian chili sauce, Alpaca meat is touted to have many health benefits, very lean with healthy fat and antioxidants. Where it was the staple for the highland Indians it has now become beyond the reach of ordinary folks, and only the tourists can afford to eat it. It is very lean, I ordered it medium, it has a bland taste, not gamey at all, forgettable. I’ve had lomo saltado and I’m back at home with the dish, it is exactly as we cook it back home, strips of beef sauteed in onions, jullienne carrots and potatoes and peas. I am awaiting recommendations for the best place to go for cuy, guinea pig. The young women here booked with the same familly with me have tried it. They are from the Netherlands, those dreamy, adventurous, idealistic sort, blonde, blue-eyed, tall and slim, they did not rave about it.
I am in a one-one intensive Spanish course, for 2 hours daily. My opening session with Jose Renzo, my instructor, left me with a headache. 2-hours non-stop conversation on a wide array of topics from food to politics, he corrected me as we went along, and paused to expand on some grammatical points, and that’s my class. I like the method, and I’m looking forward to my next session.
There’s a cafe here, the Meeting Place, run as a non-profit, to support some children and women’s shelter. One of the blondes will be volunteering in a program in Iquitos, in the Amazon, to work with children to encourage them to attend schools. It is run by 2 women from Holland. The San Blas School, where I’m taking my language class is co-owned by a Dutch who married a local woman, the daughter in fact of my host. There are also a lot of German youth in the volunteer corp. I’m wondering how these all came about. In the cafe, overheard conversations are about program funding and charity good works being launched by individuals. I’m getting curious about all these. Cuzco, outside of the historic center is poor, majority population is indigenous. My host family is considered wealthy by local standards, but there’s no running hot water except the shower, and it’s tepid at best. They hardly eat out and the premises is very basically furnished, they don’t go to theaters or have drinks in a bar. The children have some college but they’re not in a profession. Tourism is a major industry and my host’s children are working in it. I have ambivalent feelings about all the good people from foriegn countries doing non-sectarian missionary works here, not to exclude those who are here to proseletyze religion. They are all the same to me. It’s a premise in doing this kind of thing that one is disadvantaged and the other is superior. It reckons for me the colonial Philippines under 300 years of Spanish rule, and 50 years of American, albeit paternalistic, imperialism. Though we like to see ourselves as Americanized, it’s all surface veneer. Our post independence history and cultural identity have a lot more in common with the countries of Colonial Spain, we are family. BTW, one has to be sensitive here about how to use America. If asked where are you from, it’s offensive to say I’m American, for that’s coopting all the Americas, North and South and Center. You have to be specific, say I am from the United States.
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Feb 8
I had a most amazing day! The clinic I’m supposed to work in doesn’t know what to do with me. I got the feeling I’m just a nuisance. There are tons of patients in the downstairs waiting hall, and Sister Paulina’s computer is acting up and she has an IT person there trouble shooting it. She has no time to orient me and to find a department for me to work in where my language limitation will not be a factor. She asked me if I wanted to accompany her to visit a clinic in the mountain. She has some parochial business to attend to in Zurite, with Sister Matilde and Father Nicanor. It is over an hour’s drive from Cusco. Just outside the city we stopped for a bag of coca leaves. I’m apprised that chewing them will help us adjust to the altitude. The indigenous people rely on it to give them energy while working the fields all day, and it also helps to curb hunger. When we arrived in Zurite, we stood in line in one of the cubby holes of the municipal building. I found out they were there to meet with the mayor but he’s not in. Sounds familiar? It’s very much like the Philippines here. People take their time for appointments, we’ll get there when we get there, and they just show up without giving advance notice, but they don’t mind when the person is not in. The mayor will be back in the afternoon, and in the meantime we went to see another person. We drove through very narrow dirt roads bordered by low shacks constructed of bricked straw and clay with Spanish tile roofs. Then we came to a better contructed house and knocked for a long time, without success. We went back to the municipal building and stood in line again, but this time only briefly, for the alcalde, Alberto Tuco, came out and received us. I found out my hosts are paying their respects to the new mayor, because they have a school there. This group is also going to the mountains and holding free medical clinics twice a month, the only medical care available. By this time it was almost 2 PM and I’ve already missed my lunch date with the girls, my Spanish class, and by how it’s going I’ll be also missing my appointment with the tour operator who’s preparing my itinerary after I complete my volunteer work. I’m also wondering if we’ll ever have lunch. The coca leaves sure was working with them but not with me. Along the way, we took a detour, and I found out it’s for my benefit. They want to show me a seldom visited site of impressive Inca ruins, the Tarawasi piedras. Then finally we stopped for lunch in this tiny roadside restaurant. There’s only one dish in the menu, whatever fixings were available from the farm that day. The meal was typical but surprisingly very sophisticated. They always have a primera and a segunda. The first was a corn soup thickened with potato and in the mix were Lima beans and carrots, the broth very nuanced in flavor. The second is braised beef shank with peas,potatoes,carrots and rice. I’m told there are 1300 plus varieties of potatoes in Peru, so it figures in every meal. A condiment accompanying every meal is the Peruvian chili sauce, Aji. It wakes up all the flavor. I offered to pay for lunch and I couldn’t believe the whole thing with chamomile tea with anise for beverage cost 16 soles, or $6.
But the surprise is not over yet. We took another detour and went up a steep hill on narrow dirt and washed out road, the vehicle was groaning, and I was wondering how we’re going to turn around to go down later, then we came up to another Inca ruin, the not yet opened to the tourist site of an amazing half moon carved into thick stone, the Killia Raymi. I don’t doubt it is aligned with some point in the heavens and had something to do with lunar rituals. I didn’t get back to Cusco until dark, and had to make apologies for my in absentia. On second thought, I didn’t miss my Spanish class after all for I had 7 hours of Spanish conversation today.
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Feb 10
The poor is the same all over the world, and for that matter, the rich too. The big difference is between the rich and the poor. Charity, volunteer and missionary work is an industry here. I suppose it’s a win win situation, the haves get their gratification of whatever motives they have in working with the poor and the poor get bread, shelter, shoes, and indebtedness. For an exceptional few, they get opportunity for a different life. Whether they’re better off or not is the question for Solomon.
Anyway, there’s nothing useful for me to do in the clinic. I missed my Spanish classes while taking these all day trips to the mountains so I renegotiated my assignment. Donating money rather than my time would help the clinic more, which is in dire need of basic medical supplies. So all agreed that I will conclude my clinic assignment after 1 week so I can make up my missed Spanish classes in the 2nd week. In exchange for my volunteer work, I gave a donation of supplies to the clinic.
In the meantime Sister Matilde, who practices alternative medicine and who compounds the clinic’s repertoire of herbal treatments gave me a primer on native medicinal plants and how they are used to treat a myriad of ailments. Most fascinating and priceless. Then she let me help in her laboratory, mixing dried herbs, bagging them and labeling and shelving them. Meanwhile, patients come in for consultation and she dispenses the treatment, she also fills prescription from outside doctors. I will do bagging for one more day then I’m done with volunteering. We’ve become friends however, and I have an open invitation to stay in their community house if I return to Cuzco, and to stay with her family in Ariquipa since I’m visiting there. We are also going to the theater tonight to see a performance of Peruvian folk dances. Sister Paulina, who is the director of the clinic invited me to their staff lunch tomorrow. I’m happy, they’re happy.
February 13
Raining in Cusco at midnight when I got back from Machupicchu, and the taxi driver charged me double to get home from the bus stop, mierda!
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February 14
Hola!
I've been cut off from the rest of the world without cellular reception and WiFi in the Amazon jungle and Lake Titicaca, the highest navigable lake in the world.While the Arab World is in the throes of cataclysmic change, in these 2 places, life goes on pretty much the same every day, only concerned with the basics of living. In Lake Titicaca, the pre-Incan indigenous tribes in the 3 Islands we visited, still keep their centuries old traditions in spite of 300 years of Spanish colonial rule. I've been extremely short of breath trekking in the mountains and climbing hills and my lingering cough does not help. Puno's elevation where Lake Titicaca is is 12,421 ft compared to Aspen's 7950 ft. It will be a breeze skiing in Snowmass and Aspen in March. In Amantani, where we had a home stay overnight, we dressed in traditional costumes, which the natives wear everyday and attended their community dance.The Amazon jungle is immense and teeming with life, but unlike my African safari, the animals are not visible. We woke up at 4 AM just to catch a glimpse of them.
We were lucky to spot 2 species of monkeys, a family of otters, a few birds of prey, and a spectacular clay lick of macaws, parakeets, tucans, parrots. We hooked for piranhas, and they were biting, but I didn't catch any. It rained everyday, a light drizzle for the most part with occasional brief downpours but it was warm so we just ignored the rain and didn't interrupt our program. The Amazon lodge is open to the jungle and there was a red howler monkey outside my room. There is strict ecotourism in the Amazon, and it's not allowed to feed or disturb the animals, so they don't bother the people. The visit to a local shaman was interesting. Naturally, I was the first to try para-para, an aphrodisiac, but it had no effect.
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Monday, April 25, 2011
Nagasaki and Hiroshima
April 8-Hiroshima and Nagasaki
To while away the 2 1/2 hour drive to Hiroshima we folded origami cranes and learned the story of Sadako and the Thousand Paper Cranes. She was 2 years old when the bomb was dropped and 12 years old when she died of leukemia. Her mother referred to her illness as an atom bomb disease. She was very brave and optimistic and her story is read by schoolchildren all over Japan and in many countries. She has become the symbol for hope for lasting peace in the world. The Children’s Peace Monument in Hiroshima Peace Memorial Park, has a golden crane chime, and is dedicated to her and the thousands of children who were killed by the bomb. Thousands of paper cranes are offered to it daily by children from all over the world. In Nagasaki these thousand paper crane offerings are fashioned into art works by the children and dedicated to peace. Viewing these is heartbreaking.
As I ponder images of Hiroshima and Nagasaki after the A-bomb, a man-made destruction, I recall the dramatic video images of the tsunami played over and over again in the news . I am disturbed by the similarity of these images. Man has enormous capacity to destroy, but it has will, unlike nature. Nature can be harnessed but it can’t be changed. It is the source of life itself but it can also destroy. We must be willing to accept the risks involved when we alter its natural course. The science applied to produce nuclear energy destroyed Hiroshima and Nagasaki but it also provided the energy source to build a nation into prosperity in times of peace. Despite the devastation of the bombing, Japan embraced nuclear energy to rise from its ruins and to fuel its economic resurgence to become the 2nd economic power in the world until most recently. There is no evil in science, but in how man uses it. The monumental loss of lives and the rubble made of cities in the wake of the earthquake and tsunami of March 11 in Fukushima is a natural disaster. The continuing threat of radiation from the damaged nuclear reactors is the risk we have to take. We forget that we’re dealing with nature, we may harness it for our benefit but we can’t change it. There is such a hysteria in response to this. The misunderstanding of its nature results in illogical behavior. Now there is a call for abandoning nuclear energy source. The US State Department evacuated nationals from all of Japan, it issued travel advisory to Japan. My friend from Munich wrote me that the city parliament is calling for votes to ban nuclear reactors. When it was reported that there is increased radiation levels in the sea around the disaster area there was fear that fish is contaminated and some stopped eating sushi. Some celebrity chefs with great fanfare announced they are screening their fish with a Geiger counter. All the fish farms and distribution centers in the area have been wiped out, and no one is allowed around its waters, there’s no way any fish will be coming to the table from that region.
The issue for me is not nuclear energy and the nuclear reactors that produce them. It is governments ran by men who misuse the science and use nuclear threat to dominate others. These men should all visit the monuments in Hiroshima and Nagasaki and learn the story of Sadako and fold 1000 paper cranes for peace.
http://www.facebook.com/album.php?fbid=123723357704986&id=100002019670806&aid=24330&l=9ddd5c887f
To while away the 2 1/2 hour drive to Hiroshima we folded origami cranes and learned the story of Sadako and the Thousand Paper Cranes. She was 2 years old when the bomb was dropped and 12 years old when she died of leukemia. Her mother referred to her illness as an atom bomb disease. She was very brave and optimistic and her story is read by schoolchildren all over Japan and in many countries. She has become the symbol for hope for lasting peace in the world. The Children’s Peace Monument in Hiroshima Peace Memorial Park, has a golden crane chime, and is dedicated to her and the thousands of children who were killed by the bomb. Thousands of paper cranes are offered to it daily by children from all over the world. In Nagasaki these thousand paper crane offerings are fashioned into art works by the children and dedicated to peace. Viewing these is heartbreaking.
As I ponder images of Hiroshima and Nagasaki after the A-bomb, a man-made destruction, I recall the dramatic video images of the tsunami played over and over again in the news . I am disturbed by the similarity of these images. Man has enormous capacity to destroy, but it has will, unlike nature. Nature can be harnessed but it can’t be changed. It is the source of life itself but it can also destroy. We must be willing to accept the risks involved when we alter its natural course. The science applied to produce nuclear energy destroyed Hiroshima and Nagasaki but it also provided the energy source to build a nation into prosperity in times of peace. Despite the devastation of the bombing, Japan embraced nuclear energy to rise from its ruins and to fuel its economic resurgence to become the 2nd economic power in the world until most recently. There is no evil in science, but in how man uses it. The monumental loss of lives and the rubble made of cities in the wake of the earthquake and tsunami of March 11 in Fukushima is a natural disaster. The continuing threat of radiation from the damaged nuclear reactors is the risk we have to take. We forget that we’re dealing with nature, we may harness it for our benefit but we can’t change it. There is such a hysteria in response to this. The misunderstanding of its nature results in illogical behavior. Now there is a call for abandoning nuclear energy source. The US State Department evacuated nationals from all of Japan, it issued travel advisory to Japan. My friend from Munich wrote me that the city parliament is calling for votes to ban nuclear reactors. When it was reported that there is increased radiation levels in the sea around the disaster area there was fear that fish is contaminated and some stopped eating sushi. Some celebrity chefs with great fanfare announced they are screening their fish with a Geiger counter. All the fish farms and distribution centers in the area have been wiped out, and no one is allowed around its waters, there’s no way any fish will be coming to the table from that region.
The issue for me is not nuclear energy and the nuclear reactors that produce them. It is governments ran by men who misuse the science and use nuclear threat to dominate others. These men should all visit the monuments in Hiroshima and Nagasaki and learn the story of Sadako and fold 1000 paper cranes for peace.
http://www.facebook.com/album.php?fbid=123723357704986&id=100002019670806&aid=24330&l=9ddd5c887f
Japan's Otherness
Japan’s Otherness
Japan impresses right on arrival. At Kansai International Airport, a breathtaking space, sparkling, an engineering marvel as a man-made island, an efficient, organized, ultra-modern terminal designed by Renzo Piano.High tech amenities abound. On a personal level in the rest room, heated toilet seats and control buttons for water temperature for bidet or spray and music or flushing sound to muffle the revealing sound of your body functions. Arrival and customs processing was easy to navigate with Kanji signs and English subtitles, and immigration staff bowing profusely and guiding you with a smile.
And this bowing is universal and so part of their natural gesture. A hard hat worker at a road repair site bows deeply at the waist before giving the crossing sign to pedestrians. A waitress bows before handing you a menu, serving your meal or saying good bye when you leave. Every greeting is accompanied by a bow and a smile. Our bus driver bows as we get in the bus, no matter how many times a day. Every interaction with another is preceded by a bow. This respect and politeness is a national characteristic. In the metro, I embarrassed myself when I just hopped in, not noticing beforehand that everyone automatically falls in line to board the train, and waits for passengers to disembark first. Nobody turns away if you approach with a question even if they can’t speak English. If they can’t decipher anything they go out of their way to find someone who can help.
They are very tidy and clean, obsessively so. In many restaurants there are baskets or nice bins on the floor for your purse and things. In Japanese restaurants where there’s tatami or polished floors, you take off your shoes but slippers are provided and there are cubbyholes for your shoes. There are separate slippers for the toilet. In public toilets, there are big and small hooks to hang your stuff, or wide ledges or compartments for your bag, sanitizer dispensers, a baby seat so you dont’ have to sit the baby on the floor. There is no urine smell in the metro and no graffiti. The toilets are spotless.They wear surgical masks in public to protect themselves from pollen and others from their cold. There are umbrella caddies, and if there is none, they will hand you a plastic sock for your wet umbrella.
The vending machines can blow you away. At rest stops on the road, there is always a bank of vending machines that dispenses everything from beer to toys. The coffee vending machine dispenses fresh ground and brewed coffee and you can control the brew strength and can fix it with cream or sugar or espresso or cappuccino, and while it is preparing the coffee, there’s a digital timer to tell you when it will be done and in the meantime the machine plays a rumba to entertain you while you wait and when the coffee is done, it tells you and it opens the serving box automatically. Too much! I like the rumba though. If you don’t have 2 minutes for individually brewed fresh ground coffee, there is canned pre-brewed coffee dispensed hot. It also dispenses a warning to be careful, because the coffee is hot. Big brother is everywhere.
Japan is in the details. Meticulous, orderly, structured, everything in its place. The lunch boxes are wrapped in beautiful paper, and have many compartments to organize each food item, it looks like a gift box. Meal items are served in individual unique dishes that look like works of art. With the cherry blossom in abundance, they are present in floral arrangements in very elegant ikebana style. It appears simple but design is actually governed by principles derived from understanding nature. This can be appreciated fully in the classic Japanese garden. The formal tea ceremony is indeed a ceremony with protocols and etiquette to be followed. And kabuki theater is enjoyed more if its conventions and principles are understood.
Japan is discipline. There are rules of conduct posted all over for the public, the underlying theme being consideration for the public good and to not interfere with another person’s comfort. These rules are verbose as it usually explains why a particular behavior is prescribed using very polite suggestions. Next to a coffee vending machine, “ Please be careful, your coffee is very hot”. In the Metro, “Please turn off your cell phones and do not talk on the phone , it may disturb the person next to you. On a balcony ledge, “Please do not engage in dangerous acts such as leaning over, as it might cause an accident”, In the theater, “ Please do not take photos during the show, the flash may distract the performer and disturb the show for others” This discipline and consideration for the common good is displayed so powerfully following the 3/11 tragedy. An observer remarked that the people acted in concert as if trained to behave this way, like an army. It has defined a cultural characteristic of the Japanese, and had served the country well at a time of adversity.
Boarding the metro during rush hour I felt spooked surrounded by all these men in black, I felt I was in a funeral caboose. Japan dresses formally. Men and women go to offices in dark suits, and children go to school in uniforms. Female broadcasters dress conservatively, no cleavage showing. There’s a group of young people who have developed a distinct subculture, the otaku, as a rebellion to all this constriction of self-expression. They dress in costumes, play roles, have developed quite a following and reputation that they have become tourist attractions in the places they congregate, usually in the districts where manga, anime, and video games are sold, such as Akihebara, Takeshita dori, Harajuku. Adult males with a large bank account can relax with geishas and kick off their shoes, and the ordinary salaried men can go to bars after work and hang out with other guys or visit Shinjuku’s Kabukicho(red light) district or Ueno’s Ameyoyokocho for adult role play. Alas Japanese society is male-dominated, and women’s roles is still to serve, but it is slowly changing as evidenced by the increasing popularity of maid’s bars. Here for a sum, a guy can hire a “maid” dressed in uniform of a short skirt, ruffled apron, cleavage, high boots, and engage in master/servant fantasy. The maid will call him master, may groom him, even clean his ears, serve him tea, pamper him, etc. But even here, they can’t escape from rules, in fact there are 10 rules they have to observe in this game. There are some of these maid’s bars catering to women, where the men become the servants and do the woman’s bidding.
Japan has the romance of a long past. Medieval and feudal lores of the samurai, of ninjas, of royalty and chivalry are oft repeated and beloved. Its art and culture, and science go back over 2000 years. Yet Japan is very young. It did not have a coming out until the Meiji restoration in the 19th century, the beginning of modern Japan. While it’s feudal relics and structures are well preserved or faithfully restored, its cities have been reduced to rubble by modern wars, by earthquakes, and the atom bomb, and recently the tsunami. Entire cities have been rebuilt, and they have the sleek and futuristic ambiance of modern architecture. It’s infrastructure is impressive, overpasses and bridges, and sky-ways, interlocks and loops over cities. It’s railroads carry trains that run with the speed of a speeding bullet, its roads cut through mountains with tunnels instead of going around it. Driving from Takayama to Lake Suwa, one of us counted 29 tunnels, one of them was 11 kilometers long.
The Yoschino cherry blossoms were magnificent, they are the color of the lightest blush and transparent against the sun, when the wind blows and scatter the petals they float like snowflakes, breathtaking to behold. They’re ephemeral, lasting only 2 weeks, but then the Kansai cherries take over, and the Iris, azaleas take their turn. And when fall arrives, the landscape is a brilliant red with the Japanese maples in full color and the Ginko trees turn yellow. These 2 times of the year it seems all of Japan is out to view their grandeur. There are numerous festivals throughout the year to celebrate nature’s beauty and bounty. In the spring, they stage hanami viewing parties under the cherry blossoms.
I enjoyed Japan, it is kirei and subarashi, but it is too much of another world than of my world.
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Japan impresses right on arrival. At Kansai International Airport, a breathtaking space, sparkling, an engineering marvel as a man-made island, an efficient, organized, ultra-modern terminal designed by Renzo Piano.High tech amenities abound. On a personal level in the rest room, heated toilet seats and control buttons for water temperature for bidet or spray and music or flushing sound to muffle the revealing sound of your body functions. Arrival and customs processing was easy to navigate with Kanji signs and English subtitles, and immigration staff bowing profusely and guiding you with a smile.
And this bowing is universal and so part of their natural gesture. A hard hat worker at a road repair site bows deeply at the waist before giving the crossing sign to pedestrians. A waitress bows before handing you a menu, serving your meal or saying good bye when you leave. Every greeting is accompanied by a bow and a smile. Our bus driver bows as we get in the bus, no matter how many times a day. Every interaction with another is preceded by a bow. This respect and politeness is a national characteristic. In the metro, I embarrassed myself when I just hopped in, not noticing beforehand that everyone automatically falls in line to board the train, and waits for passengers to disembark first. Nobody turns away if you approach with a question even if they can’t speak English. If they can’t decipher anything they go out of their way to find someone who can help.
They are very tidy and clean, obsessively so. In many restaurants there are baskets or nice bins on the floor for your purse and things. In Japanese restaurants where there’s tatami or polished floors, you take off your shoes but slippers are provided and there are cubbyholes for your shoes. There are separate slippers for the toilet. In public toilets, there are big and small hooks to hang your stuff, or wide ledges or compartments for your bag, sanitizer dispensers, a baby seat so you dont’ have to sit the baby on the floor. There is no urine smell in the metro and no graffiti. The toilets are spotless.They wear surgical masks in public to protect themselves from pollen and others from their cold. There are umbrella caddies, and if there is none, they will hand you a plastic sock for your wet umbrella.
The vending machines can blow you away. At rest stops on the road, there is always a bank of vending machines that dispenses everything from beer to toys. The coffee vending machine dispenses fresh ground and brewed coffee and you can control the brew strength and can fix it with cream or sugar or espresso or cappuccino, and while it is preparing the coffee, there’s a digital timer to tell you when it will be done and in the meantime the machine plays a rumba to entertain you while you wait and when the coffee is done, it tells you and it opens the serving box automatically. Too much! I like the rumba though. If you don’t have 2 minutes for individually brewed fresh ground coffee, there is canned pre-brewed coffee dispensed hot. It also dispenses a warning to be careful, because the coffee is hot. Big brother is everywhere.
Japan is in the details. Meticulous, orderly, structured, everything in its place. The lunch boxes are wrapped in beautiful paper, and have many compartments to organize each food item, it looks like a gift box. Meal items are served in individual unique dishes that look like works of art. With the cherry blossom in abundance, they are present in floral arrangements in very elegant ikebana style. It appears simple but design is actually governed by principles derived from understanding nature. This can be appreciated fully in the classic Japanese garden. The formal tea ceremony is indeed a ceremony with protocols and etiquette to be followed. And kabuki theater is enjoyed more if its conventions and principles are understood.
Japan is discipline. There are rules of conduct posted all over for the public, the underlying theme being consideration for the public good and to not interfere with another person’s comfort. These rules are verbose as it usually explains why a particular behavior is prescribed using very polite suggestions. Next to a coffee vending machine, “ Please be careful, your coffee is very hot”. In the Metro, “Please turn off your cell phones and do not talk on the phone , it may disturb the person next to you. On a balcony ledge, “Please do not engage in dangerous acts such as leaning over, as it might cause an accident”, In the theater, “ Please do not take photos during the show, the flash may distract the performer and disturb the show for others” This discipline and consideration for the common good is displayed so powerfully following the 3/11 tragedy. An observer remarked that the people acted in concert as if trained to behave this way, like an army. It has defined a cultural characteristic of the Japanese, and had served the country well at a time of adversity.
Boarding the metro during rush hour I felt spooked surrounded by all these men in black, I felt I was in a funeral caboose. Japan dresses formally. Men and women go to offices in dark suits, and children go to school in uniforms. Female broadcasters dress conservatively, no cleavage showing. There’s a group of young people who have developed a distinct subculture, the otaku, as a rebellion to all this constriction of self-expression. They dress in costumes, play roles, have developed quite a following and reputation that they have become tourist attractions in the places they congregate, usually in the districts where manga, anime, and video games are sold, such as Akihebara, Takeshita dori, Harajuku. Adult males with a large bank account can relax with geishas and kick off their shoes, and the ordinary salaried men can go to bars after work and hang out with other guys or visit Shinjuku’s Kabukicho(red light) district or Ueno’s Ameyoyokocho for adult role play. Alas Japanese society is male-dominated, and women’s roles is still to serve, but it is slowly changing as evidenced by the increasing popularity of maid’s bars. Here for a sum, a guy can hire a “maid” dressed in uniform of a short skirt, ruffled apron, cleavage, high boots, and engage in master/servant fantasy. The maid will call him master, may groom him, even clean his ears, serve him tea, pamper him, etc. But even here, they can’t escape from rules, in fact there are 10 rules they have to observe in this game. There are some of these maid’s bars catering to women, where the men become the servants and do the woman’s bidding.
Japan has the romance of a long past. Medieval and feudal lores of the samurai, of ninjas, of royalty and chivalry are oft repeated and beloved. Its art and culture, and science go back over 2000 years. Yet Japan is very young. It did not have a coming out until the Meiji restoration in the 19th century, the beginning of modern Japan. While it’s feudal relics and structures are well preserved or faithfully restored, its cities have been reduced to rubble by modern wars, by earthquakes, and the atom bomb, and recently the tsunami. Entire cities have been rebuilt, and they have the sleek and futuristic ambiance of modern architecture. It’s infrastructure is impressive, overpasses and bridges, and sky-ways, interlocks and loops over cities. It’s railroads carry trains that run with the speed of a speeding bullet, its roads cut through mountains with tunnels instead of going around it. Driving from Takayama to Lake Suwa, one of us counted 29 tunnels, one of them was 11 kilometers long.
The Yoschino cherry blossoms were magnificent, they are the color of the lightest blush and transparent against the sun, when the wind blows and scatter the petals they float like snowflakes, breathtaking to behold. They’re ephemeral, lasting only 2 weeks, but then the Kansai cherries take over, and the Iris, azaleas take their turn. And when fall arrives, the landscape is a brilliant red with the Japanese maples in full color and the Ginko trees turn yellow. These 2 times of the year it seems all of Japan is out to view their grandeur. There are numerous festivals throughout the year to celebrate nature’s beauty and bounty. In the spring, they stage hanami viewing parties under the cherry blossoms.
I enjoyed Japan, it is kirei and subarashi, but it is too much of another world than of my world.
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Saturday, January 15, 2011
Locum Tenens Chronicle
Locum Tenens Chronicles
Week 1 (January 5-9,2009)
I survived my first week of locum tenens in Columbus, 5 to go with a break for a week to go to DC for Rock O's inauguration. Whew! I need good food and adult conversation so I'm going out with Mary tonight for fine dining at the FAB downtown. I loved seeing the grand kids everyday, but you know, they eat chicken fingers, macaroni and cheese, and that stuff, thank goodness they like sushi so we went out for that midweek. They are lovely and delightful, full of the day's stories of peers getting spacers and braces, of so and so fighting, of who was at basketball practice, and spelling and math, and reading assignments. They are excited about their orthodontist appointments and can't wait to get spacers and braces just like the others. They demand your full attention when they report on the day's events. I was completely ignored, I was a zero there, so I'm going back to my dear friends to be reminded of who I am. But then I had the greatest time, just hanging out with them and witnessing how they handle their day to day world. They are so cheerful and full of excitement, bubbling with enthusiasm about the littlest thing. And they smell so good and so soft when they hug and kiss, you are just grateful they are there. And I learned that Mack hates to take a bath, so it is scheduled, and it is an event. He takes occupancy of the master's bathroom for almost an hour,takes a lingering luxurious bath, splashes and plays, sings even, and then emerges to be kissed and fussed over by everyone. What a charmer! And Rah Rah is the big sister, helping with spelling homework, cutting his meat, answering his questions, and to everyone, a know-it-all, and facilitator/dictator,a nosy busybody, already with opinions about everything, I just adore her!
So between this and interaction with the chronic psychiatric patients, most with impoverished ideas and concrete speech, I haven't talked with anyone all week.
Otherwise, the job doesn't require any talent and the working environment is all too familiar, reprising the conditions of the State Hospital that I just left. These tax funded institutions are so overwhelmed with service demands, inadequate resources, staffing problems, and regulatory pressures threatening program funding and jobs, that people who work there have become numb and no longer pay attention to one another as individuals. Everyone is just busy getting the job done, there is no time for niceties, no time to be gracious, no time to get to know anyone. I met the Medical Director for less than 5 minutes, just enough time to introduce herself and the person I can ask if I have any questions, and to hand me a loose orientation pamphlet of their computerized medical record. I was not given a patient schedule for the first day, so I can familiarize myself with their procedures and especially the computer record, but the system was down for most of the day, and the clinic was paralyzed. They sent the patients home without renewing their medication prescriptions. I asked if I can write them and I was told, I can't because they have no manual system in place that will track it. So the next day I had a full medication follow up schedule of 22 patients and I had to learn the computer charting at the same time. That's the way it is. A retired former staff psychiatrist started with me working half time, and that's the medical staff for the clinic now, when they used to have 5 psychiatrists working there. The rest of the services is provided by a Nurse Specialist and a PA. I have a 1 hour lunch break and JayJay's house is just a mile away, so I let myself in and eat whatever leftover is in the fridge for lunch, check my email and watch CNN. Very nice. Locum tenens set me up in a studio suite at the Marriott Residence Inn, surrounded by 2 malls, movie theaters and many restaurants, and I have a PT Cruiser rental car from them too. So it's a good deal, an easy way to replenish my slush fund of which I generously helped myself with to finance my indulgences to celebrate my retirement.
After this stint, I'll be in NYC for my opera season.
Week 1 (January 5-9,2009)
I survived my first week of locum tenens in Columbus, 5 to go with a break for a week to go to DC for Rock O's inauguration. Whew! I need good food and adult conversation so I'm going out with Mary tonight for fine dining at the FAB downtown. I loved seeing the grand kids everyday, but you know, they eat chicken fingers, macaroni and cheese, and that stuff, thank goodness they like sushi so we went out for that midweek. They are lovely and delightful, full of the day's stories of peers getting spacers and braces, of so and so fighting, of who was at basketball practice, and spelling and math, and reading assignments. They are excited about their orthodontist appointments and can't wait to get spacers and braces just like the others. They demand your full attention when they report on the day's events. I was completely ignored, I was a zero there, so I'm going back to my dear friends to be reminded of who I am. But then I had the greatest time, just hanging out with them and witnessing how they handle their day to day world. They are so cheerful and full of excitement, bubbling with enthusiasm about the littlest thing. And they smell so good and so soft when they hug and kiss, you are just grateful they are there. And I learned that Mack hates to take a bath, so it is scheduled, and it is an event. He takes occupancy of the master's bathroom for almost an hour,takes a lingering luxurious bath, splashes and plays, sings even, and then emerges to be kissed and fussed over by everyone. What a charmer! And Rah Rah is the big sister, helping with spelling homework, cutting his meat, answering his questions, and to everyone, a know-it-all, and facilitator/dictator,a nosy busybody, already with opinions about everything, I just adore her!
So between this and interaction with the chronic psychiatric patients, most with impoverished ideas and concrete speech, I haven't talked with anyone all week.
Otherwise, the job doesn't require any talent and the working environment is all too familiar, reprising the conditions of the State Hospital that I just left. These tax funded institutions are so overwhelmed with service demands, inadequate resources, staffing problems, and regulatory pressures threatening program funding and jobs, that people who work there have become numb and no longer pay attention to one another as individuals. Everyone is just busy getting the job done, there is no time for niceties, no time to be gracious, no time to get to know anyone. I met the Medical Director for less than 5 minutes, just enough time to introduce herself and the person I can ask if I have any questions, and to hand me a loose orientation pamphlet of their computerized medical record. I was not given a patient schedule for the first day, so I can familiarize myself with their procedures and especially the computer record, but the system was down for most of the day, and the clinic was paralyzed. They sent the patients home without renewing their medication prescriptions. I asked if I can write them and I was told, I can't because they have no manual system in place that will track it. So the next day I had a full medication follow up schedule of 22 patients and I had to learn the computer charting at the same time. That's the way it is. A retired former staff psychiatrist started with me working half time, and that's the medical staff for the clinic now, when they used to have 5 psychiatrists working there. The rest of the services is provided by a Nurse Specialist and a PA. I have a 1 hour lunch break and JayJay's house is just a mile away, so I let myself in and eat whatever leftover is in the fridge for lunch, check my email and watch CNN. Very nice. Locum tenens set me up in a studio suite at the Marriott Residence Inn, surrounded by 2 malls, movie theaters and many restaurants, and I have a PT Cruiser rental car from them too. So it's a good deal, an easy way to replenish my slush fund of which I generously helped myself with to finance my indulgences to celebrate my retirement.
After this stint, I'll be in NYC for my opera season.
Sunday, June 06, 2010
MDVIP
MDVIP
June 6, 2010
I’ve been going for my primary health care to an office in Riverdale, near Southern Regional Hospital when I was employed at the State Hospital in Panthersville, because the location was easy to get to. Since my retirement I wanted a doctor’s office close to my condo in Atlantic Station and there’s a practice there belonging to the Piedmont Physician group. One of the doctors has a practice called MDVIP so I asked whatever is that? Having been in Psychiatry and retired I was not up on all the trends of general medical practice. Never heard of an MDVIP practice before. Well, it’s concierge medical practice, personalized or boutique or yeah, VIP care. You pay an annual fee of $1500 on top of what is reimbursed by your health insurance or Medicare, and for that you get to make same day or next day appointment, you get seen promptly by the doctor himself, not a PA or NP, no reception room wait, no crowds of sick patients where you can catch an infection from, and you can spend time with your doctor during the visit and ask all your questions, and you will not be hurried, you can have the doctor’s home or cell phone number and you can call him anytime 24/7, and if need be he can make house calls too, he remembers all the particulars about your health problem and calls you to follow up, or inquires how you’re doing, he does an executive annual physical exam and screening lab work and spends time with you discussing the results and explaining needed treatments or prevention and health maintenance strategies, he monitors your weight loss or smoking cessation program, and if you need specialist care, he makes the referrals, forwards your medical records, and coordinates hospital admission or specialized treatments and facilitates all process and keeps you informed and educated about everything. The practice has affiliations with national medical centers of excellence like the Mayo Clinic, Cleveland Clinic, etc and he insures that visits to these institutions will be hassle free, including welcoming representatives at the facility or providing guidance in practical arrangements like flights, lodging, etc. You’ll also get your medical records in CD-ROM and a personalized website.
What? Isn’t this how primary health care should be in the first place? This is how we were taught in medical school at the UPCM in the 60’s after all. But alas, times have changed. Doctors have been squeezed by managed care and reduced reimbursement and added bureaucracy and paper work and increasing overhead costs, ballooning malpractice premiums, among the egregious ones, that they are forced to see an ever increasing patient caseload and to reduce the time spent in patient visits in order to make up for lost revenue and maintain a practice. A primary physician’s patient caseload can be as much as 2500 patients. Many have felt they were on a treadmill, felt disillusioned or conflicted, closed their practices, and retired early. Some continued working but not in private practice and instead sought employment in public institutions where other frustrations and challenges abound. It is in this climate that innovations in medical practice like MDVIP have come about. For $1500 annual fee, a physician will reduce his caseload to 600 patients to meet the requirements for personalized patient care, MDVIP gets $500 and the physician $1000. For the doctor, that’s $600,000 income free and clear on top of the usual reimbursement for medical care. Brilliant! Why did I not think of that myself? MDVIP was founded in 2000 in Boca Raton,FL and has grossed over $23M recently. Apparently many patients are satisfied, the renewal rate is around 93% and it has expanded into over 28 states and signed up hundreds of doctors and thousands of patients.
Why did I have a knot in my gut when I heard about this? I got angry and I announced to the nurse and the doctor who attended me in this practice group (they are not part of the MDVIP practice) that I’m going to blog about this and and vent to my friends and email group and facebook. So they asked how I was treated so far in my visit. I was treated very well, I got a next day appointment, I didn’t have to wait very long in the reception area, the nurse was very pleasant and friendly and I had to wait a bit for the doctor in the examining room, but she apologized and chatted me up and in the process I discovered that she did her residency at George Washington and had my classmate Carmen in her Infectious disease rotation. But I’m an exception to the ordinary patient. I am a doctor and I know my way around receptionists, I can charm or be a bitch and demand, I can announce I’m a doctor and can get the doctor to talk to me, and I can tell if I’m getting good medical care or not. I’m always treated very well in doctor’s offices.
This MDVIP to me smacks of elitism, is undemocratic and an indictment of the broken health care system in our country. After the posturing of politicians and self-interest groups and industry lobbyists in the legislation of health care reform this year and the continuing challenge to it being planned by the states, it would appear that universal access to quality health care is not forthcoming anytime soon, that medical care as it should be provided is available only to those who have money and influence.
MDVIP is good for the doctor and the patients in the program. It is the ideal world for both, the doctor can practice excellent medicine without worrying about his income and feel professionally fulfilled. But what about the 1900 patients who will be dropped from a 2500 patient practice so the doctor can qualify to be an MDVIP provider with a 600 patient caseload? True, MDVIP requires that these patients are properly referred, and maybe in this early phase other regular practices can absorb these patients but there will come a saturation point, and there will not be enough doctors for all these patients. How will this play out in the heath care reform scenario?
There had been VIP patients and MD partnerships before MDVIP. Just recall Elvis Presley, Anna Nicole, and Michael Jackson. Purportedly every MDVIP clinical practice is monitored for quality assurance. There are no complaints so far from patients already in the program. However there are complaints in the business marketing and recruitment process. Apparently it is very aggressive and akin to the sales pressure many have experienced when attending complimentary weekends in time share resort developments. Potential doctors and patients are wined and dined and supplied with slick brochures and entertained in plush venues.
Ours is a free market economy, and health care, under the system of insurers and managed care and giant multi-specialty medical groups has joined the ranks of big business and has adopted the culture of corporations focused on market share and the bottom line and investor profits. Innovations in medical practices will continue to be invented like MDVIP. Who knows what tomorrow will bring.
June 6, 2010
I’ve been going for my primary health care to an office in Riverdale, near Southern Regional Hospital when I was employed at the State Hospital in Panthersville, because the location was easy to get to. Since my retirement I wanted a doctor’s office close to my condo in Atlantic Station and there’s a practice there belonging to the Piedmont Physician group. One of the doctors has a practice called MDVIP so I asked whatever is that? Having been in Psychiatry and retired I was not up on all the trends of general medical practice. Never heard of an MDVIP practice before. Well, it’s concierge medical practice, personalized or boutique or yeah, VIP care. You pay an annual fee of $1500 on top of what is reimbursed by your health insurance or Medicare, and for that you get to make same day or next day appointment, you get seen promptly by the doctor himself, not a PA or NP, no reception room wait, no crowds of sick patients where you can catch an infection from, and you can spend time with your doctor during the visit and ask all your questions, and you will not be hurried, you can have the doctor’s home or cell phone number and you can call him anytime 24/7, and if need be he can make house calls too, he remembers all the particulars about your health problem and calls you to follow up, or inquires how you’re doing, he does an executive annual physical exam and screening lab work and spends time with you discussing the results and explaining needed treatments or prevention and health maintenance strategies, he monitors your weight loss or smoking cessation program, and if you need specialist care, he makes the referrals, forwards your medical records, and coordinates hospital admission or specialized treatments and facilitates all process and keeps you informed and educated about everything. The practice has affiliations with national medical centers of excellence like the Mayo Clinic, Cleveland Clinic, etc and he insures that visits to these institutions will be hassle free, including welcoming representatives at the facility or providing guidance in practical arrangements like flights, lodging, etc. You’ll also get your medical records in CD-ROM and a personalized website.
What? Isn’t this how primary health care should be in the first place? This is how we were taught in medical school at the UPCM in the 60’s after all. But alas, times have changed. Doctors have been squeezed by managed care and reduced reimbursement and added bureaucracy and paper work and increasing overhead costs, ballooning malpractice premiums, among the egregious ones, that they are forced to see an ever increasing patient caseload and to reduce the time spent in patient visits in order to make up for lost revenue and maintain a practice. A primary physician’s patient caseload can be as much as 2500 patients. Many have felt they were on a treadmill, felt disillusioned or conflicted, closed their practices, and retired early. Some continued working but not in private practice and instead sought employment in public institutions where other frustrations and challenges abound. It is in this climate that innovations in medical practice like MDVIP have come about. For $1500 annual fee, a physician will reduce his caseload to 600 patients to meet the requirements for personalized patient care, MDVIP gets $500 and the physician $1000. For the doctor, that’s $600,000 income free and clear on top of the usual reimbursement for medical care. Brilliant! Why did I not think of that myself? MDVIP was founded in 2000 in Boca Raton,FL and has grossed over $23M recently. Apparently many patients are satisfied, the renewal rate is around 93% and it has expanded into over 28 states and signed up hundreds of doctors and thousands of patients.
Why did I have a knot in my gut when I heard about this? I got angry and I announced to the nurse and the doctor who attended me in this practice group (they are not part of the MDVIP practice) that I’m going to blog about this and and vent to my friends and email group and facebook. So they asked how I was treated so far in my visit. I was treated very well, I got a next day appointment, I didn’t have to wait very long in the reception area, the nurse was very pleasant and friendly and I had to wait a bit for the doctor in the examining room, but she apologized and chatted me up and in the process I discovered that she did her residency at George Washington and had my classmate Carmen in her Infectious disease rotation. But I’m an exception to the ordinary patient. I am a doctor and I know my way around receptionists, I can charm or be a bitch and demand, I can announce I’m a doctor and can get the doctor to talk to me, and I can tell if I’m getting good medical care or not. I’m always treated very well in doctor’s offices.
This MDVIP to me smacks of elitism, is undemocratic and an indictment of the broken health care system in our country. After the posturing of politicians and self-interest groups and industry lobbyists in the legislation of health care reform this year and the continuing challenge to it being planned by the states, it would appear that universal access to quality health care is not forthcoming anytime soon, that medical care as it should be provided is available only to those who have money and influence.
MDVIP is good for the doctor and the patients in the program. It is the ideal world for both, the doctor can practice excellent medicine without worrying about his income and feel professionally fulfilled. But what about the 1900 patients who will be dropped from a 2500 patient practice so the doctor can qualify to be an MDVIP provider with a 600 patient caseload? True, MDVIP requires that these patients are properly referred, and maybe in this early phase other regular practices can absorb these patients but there will come a saturation point, and there will not be enough doctors for all these patients. How will this play out in the heath care reform scenario?
There had been VIP patients and MD partnerships before MDVIP. Just recall Elvis Presley, Anna Nicole, and Michael Jackson. Purportedly every MDVIP clinical practice is monitored for quality assurance. There are no complaints so far from patients already in the program. However there are complaints in the business marketing and recruitment process. Apparently it is very aggressive and akin to the sales pressure many have experienced when attending complimentary weekends in time share resort developments. Potential doctors and patients are wined and dined and supplied with slick brochures and entertained in plush venues.
Ours is a free market economy, and health care, under the system of insurers and managed care and giant multi-specialty medical groups has joined the ranks of big business and has adopted the culture of corporations focused on market share and the bottom line and investor profits. Innovations in medical practices will continue to be invented like MDVIP. Who knows what tomorrow will bring.
Thursday, May 13, 2010
Turkey Trot
Turkey Trot
April 22-May 10,2010
We’re 29 in our tour group with 15, I being the newest recruit of the Olympians, belonging to my classmate Josie Olympia’s travel group from Buffalo. For such a large group we got along very well. We should know how to behave, after all most of us have already qualified for Medicare. However, very likely, our exemplary behavior was shaped by our program director, Serif, who led the tour with the precision and discipline of an army sergeant and the erudition of a professor combined, which he was both in another life. He is proud of his country and its history and we’re incurable romantics, so we were easily charmed and won over. And we loved the tales about Tamel, a beguiling figure of humor who knows not to sweat life's details, and eagerly awaited our daily installment.
Turkey is an amazing land and visiting it brings to life the history of the world which in high school in my case was a dreary class that involved memorizing dates and wars. Turkey indeed is a crossroad of civilization and this educational and cultural tour conveyed that vividly, but what’s breathtaking is the transformation of a nation gestated from centuries of imperial sectarian rule and birthed from a bloody war into a modern secular republic. With Ataturk’s leadership it brought about legal, social, and economic reforms that propelled the country into the 21st century in a generation. The father of the republic is beloved in Turkey, and his name is spoken in reverence, a larger than life figure, Mustafa Kemal Ataturk.
We’d start our day with Tamel. His antics kept us alert and set our mood right. Serif ran a tight schedule and packed a lot of stuff in a day. He was determined to enrich our experience and educate us about Turkey, and he even gave us a quiz at the end of the tour and graded our paper! Here’s a Tamel tale: Tamel just became a new father and his neighbor asks him, “What did you have, a boy or a girl?” He answers, “ A boy.” “So what’s his name?”, the neighbor asks. And Tamel answers, “ I don’t know, he can’t talk yet”.
Our tour started in Istanbul and immediately we’re hooked. From the airport on our way to the hotel in Taksim Square, we drove along the coast of the Sea of Marmara, then the Golden Horn, its banks lined with parks and promenades and bursting with multi-hued tulips. The tulip originated from Turkey, the flower is featured in ancient carpets, ceramics , and art, but flourished in Holland after it was exported there by a British diplomat. Istanbul is reclaiming it by staging a Tulip Festival in spring and planting millions of the bulb annually. It’s simply awesome to know that the city sits on 2 continents, Europe and Asia, and the narrow Bosphorus Strait that separates them connects 2 seas, the Marmara and the Black Sea. We were out early one morning and it startled us to see dolphins bobbing in and out of the water in the middle of a bustling city.I don’t know what to make of Istanbul. It has the romance of the past, it was once Constantinople. It has magnificent structures, the Blue Mosque, Hagia Sophia, Topkapi Palace, Dolmabahce Palace. It wears its history with the new high rises among ruins of Roman rule with the underground cisterns and aqueduct, the hippodrome, it is Asia with the Egyptian Spice market and the grand bazaar, it is Europe with outdoor cafes and the ballet and opera, and its grand houses and mansions along the Bosphorus, it is bustling with commerce along the Golden Horn and Taksim Square is lined with restaurants and pubs. But the country, though secular is 99% Muslim and the chanting call for prayers 5 times a day is announced from minarets that pierce the skyline like standing sentinels. This might be odd to a Christian but what about a Muslim who is jolted by church bells tolling? One doesn’t see the burqa but many women young and old still wear the scarf and keep themselves covered and some men still wear the fez. I can imagine some identity confusion in the young generation that would be akin to the ambivalence and cultural dilemma faced by children of immigrants from SE Asia in the USA. Unless you’re in tourist areas, ordering a drink can be a challenge, and pork is not part of the cuisine.
Aah, the cuisine, I could eat it everyday, especially the eggplant dishes and the cold appetizers, and I love lamb, so it's a match, the kebaps are seasoned so well and very tasty, grilled to tenderness. Baklava originated from Turkey but somehow the Greeks attached it to themselves and marketed that to the world.There is an infinite variety of flavors of baklava, and each one packs calories, but who cares? We loved the lahmahcun, a flat thin crust dough painted with sweetish tomato paste and can have cheese or ground meat on top, baked in a stone oven, then garnished with parsley and sprinkled with fresh lemon juice, rolled and eaten immediately, melts in your mouth. I discovered a new fruit which I had everyday for breakfast, the loquat, and I developed a taste for halva too. We had a cooking demonstration by Sahin, a renowned Antalya chef, and I will adapt his halva for my dinner guests, with extra Metty flourish. In the coastal provinces, fresh whole fish grilled with olive oil is perfection.
We crossed the Dardanelles from Turkey in Europe to Turkey in Asia, moving along the coast of the Sea of Marmara. In Galipoli, we stopped to ponder the human tragedy of war. Turkish troops led by Ataturk defeated the ANZAC forces of the Allies here in WWI with heavy casualties on both sides, about 250,000 each. We arrived the day after the anniversary of the battle and there were still fresh flowers on the graves.
Surrounded by politically unstable countries, Turkey maintains a large compulsory armed forces. It has Syria,Iraq and Iran in its SE border, Armenia and Georgia NE, and Russia in the Black Sea, Greece and Bulgaria in the NW. It has been invaded through the centuries from all directions and its current real estate has been carved out of war. Its recent revolutionary past is fresh in the nation’s mind so serving in the force is an honor and carries much prestige. A young man’s lack of service credential could be a deal breaker in applying for jobs or in marriage.
Asian Turkey is Anatolia, in Asia Minor in ancient times, in the Fertile Crescent, the Cradle of Civilization and it shared epochal events with other legendary lands like Mesopotamia, Troy, Persia, Baghdad, Palestine, Jerusalem, Egypt, Greece, Rome; where god-like men ruled as Suleiman the Magnificent, Alexander the Great, Homer hailed from Turkey. There are many Christian sites in Turkey. The Virgin Mary retired in Ephesus after Jesus’ crucifixion. Mt. Ararat of Noah’s fame is in Turkey . St Paul did his conversion in Turkey and addressed the Seven Churches of the Revelation. There’s the Basilica of St. John and his tomb. Christians fled to Cappadocia from Roman persecution and carved living spaces and churches in the Tufa formations, and their magnificent frescoes still shine brilliantly today . There are self-contained cities underground that are 9 stories deep that protected inhabitants from enemies, with animals, provisions, even wine making facilities. Cappadocia is incredible with fanciful tufa formations that look like fairy chimneys, or if you’re really imaginative, they look like penis heads in an obscene valley, and white undulating mountains like an alien landscape. We glided over this surreal landscape at sunrise in a hot air balloon. In Pamukkale there are hot springs and white travertine pool terraces that defy description.You can even swim in a pool littered with ancient artifacts and fed by hot springs.Turkey has an esteemed past, and excavations throughout Turkey document its history and this rich yield of artifacts fill their antiquities museum and tell the story of man himself. The great civilizations of the ancient world had a foothold in Turkey, from the Chalcolithic period eons ago to the modern republic, they marched along through their golden apex until their destruction by conquest, or nature's ire. The Hittites, Lydians, Lyceans, Phrygians, the Hellenistic and Roman conquests, Troy, Byzantine, the Crusades,the Seljuks, Celtic, the Ottoman Empire. We visited all the remains of these civilizations and imagined what it was like.
In Izmir, we had a home visit in Gobeller, a small village of 100 families, where the family spoke no English and we spoke no Turkish, but we managed and had a great time. We were in groups of 5, and I was with the group who had lunch with Birol and his family. He is a tractor operator from what we can gather, has a pretty wife who was very sweet and proudly served us lunch using her good matching dinner set, 2 daughters ages 6 and 3, the latter was at home, and the cutest ever, her 2 grandmothers live with her. The older girl was in school. We visited a village 1-room school teaching grades 1-3, and a 4th grade classroom in another school in a larger town . All the school children wears uniform, all excited to have their pictures taken and to speak English, very happy and open and spontaneous. Children are special in Ataturk's vision, they have a National Children Holiday. The student, the farmer, and the soldier are the vessels to the future for this young republic.
We covered great distances on this tour and it was crucial to have timely pit stops. Serif was cognizant of that and in every stop he gave directions to the WC first thing, and we learned very quickly that Bayan is for girls and Giris is enter, and you have to ask for directions to the water closet, not the ladies room, and in some you must pay a Lira to use it and there's no guarantee whether you get a sit down commode or an Asian squat hole, or if there's toilet paper provided. Some were not able to do it squatting and were forced to queue for a long time for the limited seat commode. But bathing is an art and the famous Turkish bath was a discovery for me in Cannakale. You are scrubbed and washed and covered with suds laid out nude on a warm marble platform, under a skylight, in a coed bath with 2 young and gorgeous Turks on each side, how much more exciting Turkey can be?
Our flight back home was canceled due to the ashes still being blown by Iceland's Eyjafjallajokul volcano. I was rebooked to Chicago from Istanbul, and system computer glitches caused verification delays which almost caused us to miss flight connections. We had to sprint to board and in Chicago I had to recheck my luggage myself from Terminal 5 to Terminal 2, and get them up and down the train with only 20 minutes to make it. I was almost denied boarding and luckily I'm a platinum Skymiles member so I was upgraded to first class, and whew!made it. I ordered a beer as soon as I was seated.
So here's Tamel on his first flight, he was going to the Black Sea. He got on board and sat in the First class cabin whereas his ticket was economy. He wouldn't budge after the stewardess repeatedly requested him to transfer so she called the pilot to handle the matter. The pilot recognizing Tamel's origins from his attire, whispered something in his ear and promptly Tamel got up and transferred to the economy cabin. The stewardess, impressed asked the pilot what he whispered in Tamel's ear. The pilot said," Oh, I just told him that the seat he was on wasn't going to the Black Sea, that it was in the next cabin."
http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=60452&id=1425897414&l=3e664b519b
http://www.facebook.com/photo.php?pid=1183278&l=000bf65888&id=1425897414
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April 22-May 10,2010
We’re 29 in our tour group with 15, I being the newest recruit of the Olympians, belonging to my classmate Josie Olympia’s travel group from Buffalo. For such a large group we got along very well. We should know how to behave, after all most of us have already qualified for Medicare. However, very likely, our exemplary behavior was shaped by our program director, Serif, who led the tour with the precision and discipline of an army sergeant and the erudition of a professor combined, which he was both in another life. He is proud of his country and its history and we’re incurable romantics, so we were easily charmed and won over. And we loved the tales about Tamel, a beguiling figure of humor who knows not to sweat life's details, and eagerly awaited our daily installment.
Turkey is an amazing land and visiting it brings to life the history of the world which in high school in my case was a dreary class that involved memorizing dates and wars. Turkey indeed is a crossroad of civilization and this educational and cultural tour conveyed that vividly, but what’s breathtaking is the transformation of a nation gestated from centuries of imperial sectarian rule and birthed from a bloody war into a modern secular republic. With Ataturk’s leadership it brought about legal, social, and economic reforms that propelled the country into the 21st century in a generation. The father of the republic is beloved in Turkey, and his name is spoken in reverence, a larger than life figure, Mustafa Kemal Ataturk.
We’d start our day with Tamel. His antics kept us alert and set our mood right. Serif ran a tight schedule and packed a lot of stuff in a day. He was determined to enrich our experience and educate us about Turkey, and he even gave us a quiz at the end of the tour and graded our paper! Here’s a Tamel tale: Tamel just became a new father and his neighbor asks him, “What did you have, a boy or a girl?” He answers, “ A boy.” “So what’s his name?”, the neighbor asks. And Tamel answers, “ I don’t know, he can’t talk yet”.
Our tour started in Istanbul and immediately we’re hooked. From the airport on our way to the hotel in Taksim Square, we drove along the coast of the Sea of Marmara, then the Golden Horn, its banks lined with parks and promenades and bursting with multi-hued tulips. The tulip originated from Turkey, the flower is featured in ancient carpets, ceramics , and art, but flourished in Holland after it was exported there by a British diplomat. Istanbul is reclaiming it by staging a Tulip Festival in spring and planting millions of the bulb annually. It’s simply awesome to know that the city sits on 2 continents, Europe and Asia, and the narrow Bosphorus Strait that separates them connects 2 seas, the Marmara and the Black Sea. We were out early one morning and it startled us to see dolphins bobbing in and out of the water in the middle of a bustling city.I don’t know what to make of Istanbul. It has the romance of the past, it was once Constantinople. It has magnificent structures, the Blue Mosque, Hagia Sophia, Topkapi Palace, Dolmabahce Palace. It wears its history with the new high rises among ruins of Roman rule with the underground cisterns and aqueduct, the hippodrome, it is Asia with the Egyptian Spice market and the grand bazaar, it is Europe with outdoor cafes and the ballet and opera, and its grand houses and mansions along the Bosphorus, it is bustling with commerce along the Golden Horn and Taksim Square is lined with restaurants and pubs. But the country, though secular is 99% Muslim and the chanting call for prayers 5 times a day is announced from minarets that pierce the skyline like standing sentinels. This might be odd to a Christian but what about a Muslim who is jolted by church bells tolling? One doesn’t see the burqa but many women young and old still wear the scarf and keep themselves covered and some men still wear the fez. I can imagine some identity confusion in the young generation that would be akin to the ambivalence and cultural dilemma faced by children of immigrants from SE Asia in the USA. Unless you’re in tourist areas, ordering a drink can be a challenge, and pork is not part of the cuisine.
Aah, the cuisine, I could eat it everyday, especially the eggplant dishes and the cold appetizers, and I love lamb, so it's a match, the kebaps are seasoned so well and very tasty, grilled to tenderness. Baklava originated from Turkey but somehow the Greeks attached it to themselves and marketed that to the world.There is an infinite variety of flavors of baklava, and each one packs calories, but who cares? We loved the lahmahcun, a flat thin crust dough painted with sweetish tomato paste and can have cheese or ground meat on top, baked in a stone oven, then garnished with parsley and sprinkled with fresh lemon juice, rolled and eaten immediately, melts in your mouth. I discovered a new fruit which I had everyday for breakfast, the loquat, and I developed a taste for halva too. We had a cooking demonstration by Sahin, a renowned Antalya chef, and I will adapt his halva for my dinner guests, with extra Metty flourish. In the coastal provinces, fresh whole fish grilled with olive oil is perfection.
We crossed the Dardanelles from Turkey in Europe to Turkey in Asia, moving along the coast of the Sea of Marmara. In Galipoli, we stopped to ponder the human tragedy of war. Turkish troops led by Ataturk defeated the ANZAC forces of the Allies here in WWI with heavy casualties on both sides, about 250,000 each. We arrived the day after the anniversary of the battle and there were still fresh flowers on the graves.
Surrounded by politically unstable countries, Turkey maintains a large compulsory armed forces. It has Syria,Iraq and Iran in its SE border, Armenia and Georgia NE, and Russia in the Black Sea, Greece and Bulgaria in the NW. It has been invaded through the centuries from all directions and its current real estate has been carved out of war. Its recent revolutionary past is fresh in the nation’s mind so serving in the force is an honor and carries much prestige. A young man’s lack of service credential could be a deal breaker in applying for jobs or in marriage.
Asian Turkey is Anatolia, in Asia Minor in ancient times, in the Fertile Crescent, the Cradle of Civilization and it shared epochal events with other legendary lands like Mesopotamia, Troy, Persia, Baghdad, Palestine, Jerusalem, Egypt, Greece, Rome; where god-like men ruled as Suleiman the Magnificent, Alexander the Great, Homer hailed from Turkey. There are many Christian sites in Turkey. The Virgin Mary retired in Ephesus after Jesus’ crucifixion. Mt. Ararat of Noah’s fame is in Turkey . St Paul did his conversion in Turkey and addressed the Seven Churches of the Revelation. There’s the Basilica of St. John and his tomb. Christians fled to Cappadocia from Roman persecution and carved living spaces and churches in the Tufa formations, and their magnificent frescoes still shine brilliantly today . There are self-contained cities underground that are 9 stories deep that protected inhabitants from enemies, with animals, provisions, even wine making facilities. Cappadocia is incredible with fanciful tufa formations that look like fairy chimneys, or if you’re really imaginative, they look like penis heads in an obscene valley, and white undulating mountains like an alien landscape. We glided over this surreal landscape at sunrise in a hot air balloon. In Pamukkale there are hot springs and white travertine pool terraces that defy description.You can even swim in a pool littered with ancient artifacts and fed by hot springs.Turkey has an esteemed past, and excavations throughout Turkey document its history and this rich yield of artifacts fill their antiquities museum and tell the story of man himself. The great civilizations of the ancient world had a foothold in Turkey, from the Chalcolithic period eons ago to the modern republic, they marched along through their golden apex until their destruction by conquest, or nature's ire. The Hittites, Lydians, Lyceans, Phrygians, the Hellenistic and Roman conquests, Troy, Byzantine, the Crusades,the Seljuks, Celtic, the Ottoman Empire. We visited all the remains of these civilizations and imagined what it was like.
In Izmir, we had a home visit in Gobeller, a small village of 100 families, where the family spoke no English and we spoke no Turkish, but we managed and had a great time. We were in groups of 5, and I was with the group who had lunch with Birol and his family. He is a tractor operator from what we can gather, has a pretty wife who was very sweet and proudly served us lunch using her good matching dinner set, 2 daughters ages 6 and 3, the latter was at home, and the cutest ever, her 2 grandmothers live with her. The older girl was in school. We visited a village 1-room school teaching grades 1-3, and a 4th grade classroom in another school in a larger town . All the school children wears uniform, all excited to have their pictures taken and to speak English, very happy and open and spontaneous. Children are special in Ataturk's vision, they have a National Children Holiday. The student, the farmer, and the soldier are the vessels to the future for this young republic.
We covered great distances on this tour and it was crucial to have timely pit stops. Serif was cognizant of that and in every stop he gave directions to the WC first thing, and we learned very quickly that Bayan is for girls and Giris is enter, and you have to ask for directions to the water closet, not the ladies room, and in some you must pay a Lira to use it and there's no guarantee whether you get a sit down commode or an Asian squat hole, or if there's toilet paper provided. Some were not able to do it squatting and were forced to queue for a long time for the limited seat commode. But bathing is an art and the famous Turkish bath was a discovery for me in Cannakale. You are scrubbed and washed and covered with suds laid out nude on a warm marble platform, under a skylight, in a coed bath with 2 young and gorgeous Turks on each side, how much more exciting Turkey can be?
Our flight back home was canceled due to the ashes still being blown by Iceland's Eyjafjallajokul volcano. I was rebooked to Chicago from Istanbul, and system computer glitches caused verification delays which almost caused us to miss flight connections. We had to sprint to board and in Chicago I had to recheck my luggage myself from Terminal 5 to Terminal 2, and get them up and down the train with only 20 minutes to make it. I was almost denied boarding and luckily I'm a platinum Skymiles member so I was upgraded to first class, and whew!made it. I ordered a beer as soon as I was seated.
So here's Tamel on his first flight, he was going to the Black Sea. He got on board and sat in the First class cabin whereas his ticket was economy. He wouldn't budge after the stewardess repeatedly requested him to transfer so she called the pilot to handle the matter. The pilot recognizing Tamel's origins from his attire, whispered something in his ear and promptly Tamel got up and transferred to the economy cabin. The stewardess, impressed asked the pilot what he whispered in Tamel's ear. The pilot said," Oh, I just told him that the seat he was on wasn't going to the Black Sea, that it was in the next cabin."
http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=60452&id=1425897414&l=3e664b519b
http://www.facebook.com/photo.php?pid=1183278&l=000bf65888&id=1425897414
http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=61831&id=1425897414&l=59608bdfa4
http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=61296&id=1425897414&l=e439ae0458
http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=61202&id=1425897414&l=7777ac6b47
http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=61107&id=1425897414&l=a2b4e238ce
Thursday, March 11, 2010
Impressions
Impressions from a Grand Tour of the Philippines
January 31-March 8,2010
by MimanMetty
Tourism is taking off in the Philippines. Its development is one of the “proyecto” of the GMA administration. The beaurocrats in tourism overall is doing a great job laying the infrastructure for tourism, with the building of roads, airports and refurbishing docks and ports, identifying and restoring historic sites, constructing tourist facilities like clean toilets and rest areas, credentialing hotels, travel agencies, transport and taxi services, tour guides, and streamlining arrival and immigration procedures. Terminal 3 will soon open to all international carriers and the Skyway will take you to Makati in a breeze. Many local festivals have been retooled to appeal to tourists. What I found most appealing are the heritage shrines and the museums. I did not find many tourists here, and I think they will hold little appeal to most except the history and anthropology aficionado, and the native or expatriate searching for the intangible.
There were none of these museums when I left the Philippines in 1967 and during my several visits since, there was no opportunity to check these out as the visits were for specific purposes of seeing family and friends or burying parents. I haven’t really seen the Philippines so this time I have devoted 5 weeks and devised an itinerary that took me to Batanes to Davao and points in between.
I started in Cebu and booked a Korean Air flight, which had the lowest fare from Atlanta, directly to Mactan International Airport. The flight carried mostly Koreans. They can be seen in all major centers in the Philippines, in hotels, in malls, in tourism venues, in golf courses, in schools, in business. In Boracay, the masseuse and hairbraid girls on the beach solicit patrons speaking Korean. Koreans travel in their own group, gathered together by their own travel agency with their own guide, they are billeted in Korean owned hotels, and eat in Korean owned restaurants. They do not employ Filipinos or leave profits in the Philippines. The taxi drivers avoid picking them up if they can manage it. They are vague about their reasons. I am somewhat put off by them myself. First they are intimidating with their numbers and because of that and interacting only among themselves they seem to be oblivious to how they affect others. They are noisy, they jostle, and cut in front of a queue, they don’t apologize when they bump into you and they don’t smile or offer eye contact for a friendly greeting to a fellow traveler. In the golf course they hit the fairway before you can get out of range. But Korea’s economy has gotten prosperous, and more and more of them can afford traveling and studying abroad and the revenue they generate is welcomed. There are many students enrolled in Philippine schools, because it is cheaper and because they can learn English closer to home. Are they the new Chinese?The Chinese build malls and condos and gambling resorts, and sell them to the Filipinos who buy them with money earned overseas, that then is circulated away from the Philippines into the Chinese mainland. Our Ilustrados, the Spaniards and mestizos descended from our conquistadors were enriched by exploiting the natural resources and grabbing the lands of the Indios, remain on top of the food chain. They still rule in politics and industry, the higher the status the whiter it gets. They too hold themselves apart, and send their profits back to Spain. The successful Indios send their profits to Swiss banks and with the politicians continue to hold the Philippines in colonial clutches. However we can cultivate the Koreans for we can learn a lot from them. I think we have very similar histories in that they were under imperial rule and they too have just emerged from a devastating war even more recent than us.
Though elections is not until May and campaigning is not official until this month, Villar is closing the gap fast with Noynoy and would you believe that Erap is pulling 13% in the polls? Only in the Philippines can a convicted felon and raider of the national treasury run for President again. Because he received presidential pardon, technically he’s squeaky clean again, but such gall. In Ilocos Norte Imelda is running for congress and her son is a senator. My pride and sensibility is so insulted, and I'm dismayed by the masses who have very short memory and deny these plunderers’ ignoble past for unrealistic expectations. I asked a calesa driver why he’d vote for Erap, and in his simple understanding he recalled that in Erap’s time he had an easier time feeding his family. He has no awareness that there is global recession and high unemployment, and graft and corruption by his leaders did not figure in his decision. Erap’s promise is rice in every pot.The papers also report that a senator fled the country to avoid murder charges, and karaoke bars have stopped playing Sinatra's My Way because the song apparently had stimulated assaults and 6 killings so far. There is so much concern expressed about implementation of the first electronic voting in this election. There is fear of communications being jammed to prevent electronic transmission of votes for counting, whether the masses can operate the machines correctly, never having any experience with computers, and GMA is threatening to extend her reign if the elections cannot be declared properly counted, etc., and of course she is running for councilor in her district, says there's nothing from the constitution barring her, so that she can be elected as Speaker of the house and continue to wield influence. Of course she'll win, she has showered the district with pork barrel projects and her picture is attached to all these.
I've started in Cebu and Bohol, where the Spaniards first landed. It is rich with historical landmarks of the colonization, but the tour commentary only address the arrival of the Spaniard and the colonization. It missed the opportunity to educate about our rich pre-Hispanic heritage, that the people the Spaniards encountered were not savages as described but had their own civilization, art, government, religious beliefs,government,politics,etc.
However in Manila, I had a week to steep in its art and cultural/heritage scene and am very blown away by the creativity, pride, and patriotism expressed by our artists intent on re"righting" and retelling our history. Though this scene does not yet reach or interest the masses, who continue to swarm in shopping malls and movie houses, and watch wowowee on TV, the movement is there and we can hope that some financier with a vision will underwrite a popular movie or TV show or something someday and spread the message incubating in this small and elite group. Grudgingly I credit the Marcos regime and Imelda for setting herself as patroness of the arts, with the laying of the infrastructure for showcasing our art, history and culture. The Philippine National Museum is rich with the display of our patrimony, its current movable exhibit is about the review of Philippine-American relations during the Philippine-American War years, 1898-1915. It’s only recently that the designation was changed in the Library of Congress catalogue from the American-given label of the Philippine Insurrection. It is a revelation, and every Filipino and America should be educated so we can see each other more clearly and deal with each other with mutual respect and equality. It has made me curious to inquire how the history of the American occupation of the Philippines is taught in US schools.The rich here are also starting to give back and sharing their largesse, not unlike the robber barons of the US, through their museums that have opened to the public. The Ayala Museum is world class, and so is the Lopez and the Yuchenco Museum. The latter has a wonderful exhibit of Santiago Bose, a multimedia artist from Kalinga, and the historian and journalist Carlos Quirino. The Metropolitan Museum of Manila likewise has a large collection of modernists. THe Cultural Center puts up superb productions. I saw Rody Vera's adaptation of Chekhov's 3 sisters, Tatlong Mariya, directed by Loy Arcenas, it's 2 1/2 hours long but you forget the time, it's that good and absorbing. The ballet is presenting avant garde works, like Neo-Filipino, productions using Western medium but imbued with Filipino spirit . I was engulfed with nationalistic fervor in the Aguinaldo Museum and wept. The heroic battle at Tirad Pass and the sacrifice of Gregorio del Pilar is the stuff of epic novels and compares with any great stand for independence in the history of the world. These heritage tours are made available to schoolchildren but I don't think in a systematic fashion. Unfortunately, there are very few visitors to the museums and the cultural center.
In Ifugao, the rice terraces are all over the mountains, wherever there is a water source there are rice terraces, big and small to spectacular, the most amazing are found in Batad, which are panoramic and amphitheater-like but the access requires a 2-hour hike over difficult uneven and steep terrain, and in Banaue which has a comfortable easy access view point. They are over 2000 years old but the saddest images are the once magnificent mountains, which are now 90% denuded of virgin forest and covered entirely by cogon grass, one could weep. The birds no longer sing in these mountains, and the Kamagong is endangered, the deer is gone and few wild boars roam. All the grand mountains and forests of the Philippines have been raped and looted for centuries and the abuse continues with unchecked logging, commercial development, settlement, mining, corporate plantations, irresponsible leaders and politicians, you name it, and the indigenous peoples driven from their habitat and forced into begging, and to give up their life style, identity and traditions to work for survival in low paying jobs in the general community or succumbing to the enticement of profit from cultivating marijuana on behalf of lowland crimelords.The rice terraces and the life style that created it must be preserved to remind us all that mother earth must be taken care of for if we destroy her, we destroy ourselves.
Perhaps it’s not all lost.In Puerto Princesa in Palawan they have a strong and effective mayor feared and respected by everyone.This mayor, Edward Hagedorn had been mayor since 1992, and supposedly ineligible to run for office in the 2010 elections having reached term limit, however one term was disqualified for counting because his election then was a recall election and does not qualify as a term, whatever, it's all legal reasoning, anyway he's running this year, but before his election in 1992 he was a gambling lord, running jueteng and his family had been big loggers denuding the Palawan forests. As Mayor however, he cleaned up the city literally, it has won awards as the cleanest city, banned gambling, stopped illegal fishing, got rid of crime, relocated squatters into permanent housing, started a reforestation program, etc, but most of all he was the vision behind tourism and conservation happening now. And he's not even native, he's from Paranaque and his grandfather was German. He runs the city like a benevolent despot, with Christian platitudes in his speeches, he's GMA's darling because he's popular and investors and banks like him. He does have style, like he started a Festival for the Forest, for the reforestation efforts, and every Feb 14 he officiates in the Mangrove Love Festival, a mass wedding that is held free for the couples, including reception, in exchange for the couples planting mangrove trees in the swamp and maintaining them to sustain the environment balance. I didn’t know it but poor people in the rural areas have very little money to get married properly. Many couples who have lived together for years got married in this way. So a man with a vision and with a past can be a savior. Perhaps one will come along to save the Philippines? And restore its allure, "Perlas Ng Silangan"?
There is no question that the allure of Batanes lies in its remoteness, isolation, purity, simplicity, unsophistication, authenticity, and unspoiled landscape and people. A bucolic scene is displayed as you drive in the countryside. A man knee-deep in the receding tide casting his net, a young boy tethering his goat, the farmer in the field, the basket weaver at her craft, a family group laden with produce in baskets on their backs, leading their carabao to their destination, a 103 year old man weaving a fish net, children playing in the school yard, a man taking down coconuts, undulating pastures, cows and carabaos on hills and ridges grazing, surf breaking on the shore, or exploding against volcanic cliffs, a calm blue lagoon, bright orange pandanus fruit, azure sky, warm sun, gentle breeze, dollars in your pocket. Is this paradise?
January 31-March 8,2010
by MimanMetty
Tourism is taking off in the Philippines. Its development is one of the “proyecto” of the GMA administration. The beaurocrats in tourism overall is doing a great job laying the infrastructure for tourism, with the building of roads, airports and refurbishing docks and ports, identifying and restoring historic sites, constructing tourist facilities like clean toilets and rest areas, credentialing hotels, travel agencies, transport and taxi services, tour guides, and streamlining arrival and immigration procedures. Terminal 3 will soon open to all international carriers and the Skyway will take you to Makati in a breeze. Many local festivals have been retooled to appeal to tourists. What I found most appealing are the heritage shrines and the museums. I did not find many tourists here, and I think they will hold little appeal to most except the history and anthropology aficionado, and the native or expatriate searching for the intangible.
There were none of these museums when I left the Philippines in 1967 and during my several visits since, there was no opportunity to check these out as the visits were for specific purposes of seeing family and friends or burying parents. I haven’t really seen the Philippines so this time I have devoted 5 weeks and devised an itinerary that took me to Batanes to Davao and points in between.
I started in Cebu and booked a Korean Air flight, which had the lowest fare from Atlanta, directly to Mactan International Airport. The flight carried mostly Koreans. They can be seen in all major centers in the Philippines, in hotels, in malls, in tourism venues, in golf courses, in schools, in business. In Boracay, the masseuse and hairbraid girls on the beach solicit patrons speaking Korean. Koreans travel in their own group, gathered together by their own travel agency with their own guide, they are billeted in Korean owned hotels, and eat in Korean owned restaurants. They do not employ Filipinos or leave profits in the Philippines. The taxi drivers avoid picking them up if they can manage it. They are vague about their reasons. I am somewhat put off by them myself. First they are intimidating with their numbers and because of that and interacting only among themselves they seem to be oblivious to how they affect others. They are noisy, they jostle, and cut in front of a queue, they don’t apologize when they bump into you and they don’t smile or offer eye contact for a friendly greeting to a fellow traveler. In the golf course they hit the fairway before you can get out of range. But Korea’s economy has gotten prosperous, and more and more of them can afford traveling and studying abroad and the revenue they generate is welcomed. There are many students enrolled in Philippine schools, because it is cheaper and because they can learn English closer to home. Are they the new Chinese?The Chinese build malls and condos and gambling resorts, and sell them to the Filipinos who buy them with money earned overseas, that then is circulated away from the Philippines into the Chinese mainland. Our Ilustrados, the Spaniards and mestizos descended from our conquistadors were enriched by exploiting the natural resources and grabbing the lands of the Indios, remain on top of the food chain. They still rule in politics and industry, the higher the status the whiter it gets. They too hold themselves apart, and send their profits back to Spain. The successful Indios send their profits to Swiss banks and with the politicians continue to hold the Philippines in colonial clutches. However we can cultivate the Koreans for we can learn a lot from them. I think we have very similar histories in that they were under imperial rule and they too have just emerged from a devastating war even more recent than us.
Though elections is not until May and campaigning is not official until this month, Villar is closing the gap fast with Noynoy and would you believe that Erap is pulling 13% in the polls? Only in the Philippines can a convicted felon and raider of the national treasury run for President again. Because he received presidential pardon, technically he’s squeaky clean again, but such gall. In Ilocos Norte Imelda is running for congress and her son is a senator. My pride and sensibility is so insulted, and I'm dismayed by the masses who have very short memory and deny these plunderers’ ignoble past for unrealistic expectations. I asked a calesa driver why he’d vote for Erap, and in his simple understanding he recalled that in Erap’s time he had an easier time feeding his family. He has no awareness that there is global recession and high unemployment, and graft and corruption by his leaders did not figure in his decision. Erap’s promise is rice in every pot.The papers also report that a senator fled the country to avoid murder charges, and karaoke bars have stopped playing Sinatra's My Way because the song apparently had stimulated assaults and 6 killings so far. There is so much concern expressed about implementation of the first electronic voting in this election. There is fear of communications being jammed to prevent electronic transmission of votes for counting, whether the masses can operate the machines correctly, never having any experience with computers, and GMA is threatening to extend her reign if the elections cannot be declared properly counted, etc., and of course she is running for councilor in her district, says there's nothing from the constitution barring her, so that she can be elected as Speaker of the house and continue to wield influence. Of course she'll win, she has showered the district with pork barrel projects and her picture is attached to all these.
I've started in Cebu and Bohol, where the Spaniards first landed. It is rich with historical landmarks of the colonization, but the tour commentary only address the arrival of the Spaniard and the colonization. It missed the opportunity to educate about our rich pre-Hispanic heritage, that the people the Spaniards encountered were not savages as described but had their own civilization, art, government, religious beliefs,government,politics,etc.
However in Manila, I had a week to steep in its art and cultural/heritage scene and am very blown away by the creativity, pride, and patriotism expressed by our artists intent on re"righting" and retelling our history. Though this scene does not yet reach or interest the masses, who continue to swarm in shopping malls and movie houses, and watch wowowee on TV, the movement is there and we can hope that some financier with a vision will underwrite a popular movie or TV show or something someday and spread the message incubating in this small and elite group. Grudgingly I credit the Marcos regime and Imelda for setting herself as patroness of the arts, with the laying of the infrastructure for showcasing our art, history and culture. The Philippine National Museum is rich with the display of our patrimony, its current movable exhibit is about the review of Philippine-American relations during the Philippine-American War years, 1898-1915. It’s only recently that the designation was changed in the Library of Congress catalogue from the American-given label of the Philippine Insurrection. It is a revelation, and every Filipino and America should be educated so we can see each other more clearly and deal with each other with mutual respect and equality. It has made me curious to inquire how the history of the American occupation of the Philippines is taught in US schools.The rich here are also starting to give back and sharing their largesse, not unlike the robber barons of the US, through their museums that have opened to the public. The Ayala Museum is world class, and so is the Lopez and the Yuchenco Museum. The latter has a wonderful exhibit of Santiago Bose, a multimedia artist from Kalinga, and the historian and journalist Carlos Quirino. The Metropolitan Museum of Manila likewise has a large collection of modernists. THe Cultural Center puts up superb productions. I saw Rody Vera's adaptation of Chekhov's 3 sisters, Tatlong Mariya, directed by Loy Arcenas, it's 2 1/2 hours long but you forget the time, it's that good and absorbing. The ballet is presenting avant garde works, like Neo-Filipino, productions using Western medium but imbued with Filipino spirit . I was engulfed with nationalistic fervor in the Aguinaldo Museum and wept. The heroic battle at Tirad Pass and the sacrifice of Gregorio del Pilar is the stuff of epic novels and compares with any great stand for independence in the history of the world. These heritage tours are made available to schoolchildren but I don't think in a systematic fashion. Unfortunately, there are very few visitors to the museums and the cultural center.
In Ifugao, the rice terraces are all over the mountains, wherever there is a water source there are rice terraces, big and small to spectacular, the most amazing are found in Batad, which are panoramic and amphitheater-like but the access requires a 2-hour hike over difficult uneven and steep terrain, and in Banaue which has a comfortable easy access view point. They are over 2000 years old but the saddest images are the once magnificent mountains, which are now 90% denuded of virgin forest and covered entirely by cogon grass, one could weep. The birds no longer sing in these mountains, and the Kamagong is endangered, the deer is gone and few wild boars roam. All the grand mountains and forests of the Philippines have been raped and looted for centuries and the abuse continues with unchecked logging, commercial development, settlement, mining, corporate plantations, irresponsible leaders and politicians, you name it, and the indigenous peoples driven from their habitat and forced into begging, and to give up their life style, identity and traditions to work for survival in low paying jobs in the general community or succumbing to the enticement of profit from cultivating marijuana on behalf of lowland crimelords.The rice terraces and the life style that created it must be preserved to remind us all that mother earth must be taken care of for if we destroy her, we destroy ourselves.
Perhaps it’s not all lost.In Puerto Princesa in Palawan they have a strong and effective mayor feared and respected by everyone.This mayor, Edward Hagedorn had been mayor since 1992, and supposedly ineligible to run for office in the 2010 elections having reached term limit, however one term was disqualified for counting because his election then was a recall election and does not qualify as a term, whatever, it's all legal reasoning, anyway he's running this year, but before his election in 1992 he was a gambling lord, running jueteng and his family had been big loggers denuding the Palawan forests. As Mayor however, he cleaned up the city literally, it has won awards as the cleanest city, banned gambling, stopped illegal fishing, got rid of crime, relocated squatters into permanent housing, started a reforestation program, etc, but most of all he was the vision behind tourism and conservation happening now. And he's not even native, he's from Paranaque and his grandfather was German. He runs the city like a benevolent despot, with Christian platitudes in his speeches, he's GMA's darling because he's popular and investors and banks like him. He does have style, like he started a Festival for the Forest, for the reforestation efforts, and every Feb 14 he officiates in the Mangrove Love Festival, a mass wedding that is held free for the couples, including reception, in exchange for the couples planting mangrove trees in the swamp and maintaining them to sustain the environment balance. I didn’t know it but poor people in the rural areas have very little money to get married properly. Many couples who have lived together for years got married in this way. So a man with a vision and with a past can be a savior. Perhaps one will come along to save the Philippines? And restore its allure, "Perlas Ng Silangan"?
There is no question that the allure of Batanes lies in its remoteness, isolation, purity, simplicity, unsophistication, authenticity, and unspoiled landscape and people. A bucolic scene is displayed as you drive in the countryside. A man knee-deep in the receding tide casting his net, a young boy tethering his goat, the farmer in the field, the basket weaver at her craft, a family group laden with produce in baskets on their backs, leading their carabao to their destination, a 103 year old man weaving a fish net, children playing in the school yard, a man taking down coconuts, undulating pastures, cows and carabaos on hills and ridges grazing, surf breaking on the shore, or exploding against volcanic cliffs, a calm blue lagoon, bright orange pandanus fruit, azure sky, warm sun, gentle breeze, dollars in your pocket. Is this paradise?
Thursday, March 04, 2010
Batanes
Batanes
There is no question that the allure of Batanes lies in its remoteness, isolation, purity, simplicity, unsophistication, authenticity, and unspoiled landscape and people. There are the plunging cliffs and rugged, rocky coastlines broken by sandy coves and breaking surf. There are the infinite verdant pastures and rolling hills, framing grazing cattle and carabaos, and goats effortlessly climbing steep slopes that seem to meet the clouds and blue sky. The morning mist casts a mystical spell on the cracks of canyons and blankets the valleys, and the evening comes after the sun sets in the southern China Sea in spectacular splendor. On Tukon hill, where there is a vernacular house inspired chapel built by a local politician son for his daughter’s wedding, one can see the Pacific ocean in the east and the south China sea in the west. On a clear day you might just see Taiwan from the northernmost island of the 10-island Batanes group, a mere 100 kilometers away, nearer than its distance from mainland Luzon.
There are no big hotel chains, and hopefully, they will stay away forever. There are no Jollibees or Starbucks. Basco, the capital, only recently had 24-hour electric service. The other 2 inhabited islands, Sabtang, gets 16 hours, and Itbayat, 12 hours. There are only hole in the wall eating establishments but the food is good, the only pizza place Napoli, delivers gourmet pizzas out of the owner’s home, the inns accept walk-ins for meals and serve a set daily changing menu, depending on the daily catch and what was brought to the market, and what was slaughtered. You can ask the inns to get certain foods from the market and cook it for you and they will oblige if available. We like the pako salad and the marinated dried dibang (flying fish) and the exotic and hard to catch coconut crab, and lobster, and got them when requested. There is internet in the town center, and cell phone reception, and TV, but no movie house. The inns are pared down basic. The Honesty Cafe is an unattended convenience store and coffee shop, where you get what you like, list it, then drop your payment in a slot, breathtaking! The local garlic is reputed to have the most fragrant and sweet flavor, and the sweet potato and taro are plump and firm. Everything else is imported from the mainland and has Manila prices. The traditionally woven baskets are exquisite.
Sabtang, a 40-minute boat trip from Basco, is served by a 15 and 30-passenger round-hulled boats, different from the outrigger bancas of the rest of the Philippines, more like the early Viking boats, more suited to ride the oftentimes choppy and strong currents of the channel, where the currents of the Pacific and China sea collide and the strong winds from Siberia blow. We didn’t have time to visit Itbaya, where the ancient funeral caves of the Ivatans, the indigenous ancestors , were excavated. It is 4 hours away by these native boats or a 15-minute flight with a 9-seater plane, Skypasada, that also serves Tuguegarao. We met the ragtag crew of this airline at breakfast one morning.
Sabtang holds the most number of occupied vernacular houses in the province, and is nominated to be included in the UNESCO Heritage Sites, a must see for its uniqueness.
These are houses made of limestone and coral with thatched cogon roof, with a distinct architecture, a fusion of the early ethnic houses and European technology introduced by the Spaniards. The houses have withstood the typhoons that regularly visit the islands and the test of time.
We embarked from the port of San Vicente, rising very early, and didn’t realize we will be using the public boat, not a chartered tourist boat. We were with locals, and sacks of produce,motorcycles, livestock and other cargo, such as a shipment of Ginebra San Miguel, which we were told, hasn’t arrived at the port yet so we will all have to wait because the boatman does not want to lose his revenue. Norma, the ultimate problem-solver negotiated to have our group reimburse the boatman for the cargo’s passage, so we can leave ASAP, without a second thought to what consequences will result to the island’s inhabitants from the failure of delivery of this vital shipment. Thankfully, the boatman piloted his vessel back to Batan later with us safely on board. The sea was choppy on the return trip, the boat cresting and slamming on bigger waves, and hurling buckets of the ocean at us and soaking us to the bone. There were other suspenseful moments here, such as when something cut my ankle from stepping on canvas and other stuff on the floor with bleeding that was out of proportion to the size of the cut (from low dose ASA intake prolonging coagulation?) and Mars almost getting decapitated by the bamboo steering pole that slipped from its mooring. However, the whole experience was authentic, and an adventure. Anchors, away!
I visited new friends staying at the Batanes Resort, 1 1/2 miles away, to check out the accommodations (recommended, but get the ocean view Itbayat or Sabtang cottages) and to watch the sunset from their beach, and it was dark when I walked back to where I was staying at Seaside Lodge. There are no taxis, very few cars, a couple of jeepneys for inter-town travel, some tricycles, and a number of scooters and some motorcycles. A couple of lone scooter riders stopped to offer me a ride, and our tour guide certifies that the offer is sincere and without malice and no remuneration but a smile and thank you is expected. The authenticity and sincerity of the people beguiles and disarms, and is a breath of fresh air. And what are we city slickers doing about going with the flow and being laid back and not sweating the small things? Going into zazen? The masseuse was 2 hours late, and she smiles and says she overslept. We rescheduled after dinner, and we were late, and relieved that she wasn’t there waiting. She knocks as we’re about to go to bed, says, she was called to Fundacion Pacita, and did 3 massages, do we still want one? Our lunch caterer in Uyugan did not have lunch ready when we arrived, uh oh. She forgot to put it in her schedule but she’ll have one ready for us in 30 minutes. She called her husband back from the farm and put him to work, then had lunch on the table as she promised. She was a barangay chief for 3 terms and now she’s running for the council, and maybe town mayor someday. She is a multi-tasker and we empathize perfectly. We couldn’t get a manicure appointment from the 3 manicurist in town, because they’re all at a wedding, which by custom is attended by everyone. The party was on the street, so we asked if we could come, and we were warmly welcomed. They’ re playing carinyosa and dancing the traditional folk dance. We got in the mood and I danced with the groom, then another guest who had already too much palek, the local sugar cane brew. He wasn’t going to let me go, and I didn’t want to offend, so I was about to dance again, but Lida rescued me and took me away. It was the custom to give a gift of money to the bride and groom, and we were delighted to do the same.
People smile and greet you warmly on the street. I was poking around the vernacular houses, curious about an occupied interior and the man of the house introduced his family and invited me for coffee. The mayor stopped to say hello,and chatted. A bucolic scene is displayed as you drive in the countryside. A man knee-deep in the receding tide casting his net, a young boy tethering his goat, the farmer in the field, the basket weaver at her craft, a family group laden with produce in baskets on their backs, leading their carabao to their destination, a 103 year old man weaving a fish net, children playing in the school yard, a man taking down coconuts, undulating pastures, cows and carabaos on hills and ridges grazing, surf breaking on the shore, or exploding against volcanic cliffs, a calm blue lagoon, bright orange pandanus fruit, azure sky, warm sun, gentle breeze, dollars in your pocket. Is this paradise?
http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=53723&id=1425897414&l=d21311fb73
http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=53715&id=1425897414&l=147a1e0e77
There is no question that the allure of Batanes lies in its remoteness, isolation, purity, simplicity, unsophistication, authenticity, and unspoiled landscape and people. There are the plunging cliffs and rugged, rocky coastlines broken by sandy coves and breaking surf. There are the infinite verdant pastures and rolling hills, framing grazing cattle and carabaos, and goats effortlessly climbing steep slopes that seem to meet the clouds and blue sky. The morning mist casts a mystical spell on the cracks of canyons and blankets the valleys, and the evening comes after the sun sets in the southern China Sea in spectacular splendor. On Tukon hill, where there is a vernacular house inspired chapel built by a local politician son for his daughter’s wedding, one can see the Pacific ocean in the east and the south China sea in the west. On a clear day you might just see Taiwan from the northernmost island of the 10-island Batanes group, a mere 100 kilometers away, nearer than its distance from mainland Luzon.
There are no big hotel chains, and hopefully, they will stay away forever. There are no Jollibees or Starbucks. Basco, the capital, only recently had 24-hour electric service. The other 2 inhabited islands, Sabtang, gets 16 hours, and Itbayat, 12 hours. There are only hole in the wall eating establishments but the food is good, the only pizza place Napoli, delivers gourmet pizzas out of the owner’s home, the inns accept walk-ins for meals and serve a set daily changing menu, depending on the daily catch and what was brought to the market, and what was slaughtered. You can ask the inns to get certain foods from the market and cook it for you and they will oblige if available. We like the pako salad and the marinated dried dibang (flying fish) and the exotic and hard to catch coconut crab, and lobster, and got them when requested. There is internet in the town center, and cell phone reception, and TV, but no movie house. The inns are pared down basic. The Honesty Cafe is an unattended convenience store and coffee shop, where you get what you like, list it, then drop your payment in a slot, breathtaking! The local garlic is reputed to have the most fragrant and sweet flavor, and the sweet potato and taro are plump and firm. Everything else is imported from the mainland and has Manila prices. The traditionally woven baskets are exquisite.
Sabtang, a 40-minute boat trip from Basco, is served by a 15 and 30-passenger round-hulled boats, different from the outrigger bancas of the rest of the Philippines, more like the early Viking boats, more suited to ride the oftentimes choppy and strong currents of the channel, where the currents of the Pacific and China sea collide and the strong winds from Siberia blow. We didn’t have time to visit Itbaya, where the ancient funeral caves of the Ivatans, the indigenous ancestors , were excavated. It is 4 hours away by these native boats or a 15-minute flight with a 9-seater plane, Skypasada, that also serves Tuguegarao. We met the ragtag crew of this airline at breakfast one morning.
Sabtang holds the most number of occupied vernacular houses in the province, and is nominated to be included in the UNESCO Heritage Sites, a must see for its uniqueness.
These are houses made of limestone and coral with thatched cogon roof, with a distinct architecture, a fusion of the early ethnic houses and European technology introduced by the Spaniards. The houses have withstood the typhoons that regularly visit the islands and the test of time.
We embarked from the port of San Vicente, rising very early, and didn’t realize we will be using the public boat, not a chartered tourist boat. We were with locals, and sacks of produce,motorcycles, livestock and other cargo, such as a shipment of Ginebra San Miguel, which we were told, hasn’t arrived at the port yet so we will all have to wait because the boatman does not want to lose his revenue. Norma, the ultimate problem-solver negotiated to have our group reimburse the boatman for the cargo’s passage, so we can leave ASAP, without a second thought to what consequences will result to the island’s inhabitants from the failure of delivery of this vital shipment. Thankfully, the boatman piloted his vessel back to Batan later with us safely on board. The sea was choppy on the return trip, the boat cresting and slamming on bigger waves, and hurling buckets of the ocean at us and soaking us to the bone. There were other suspenseful moments here, such as when something cut my ankle from stepping on canvas and other stuff on the floor with bleeding that was out of proportion to the size of the cut (from low dose ASA intake prolonging coagulation?) and Mars almost getting decapitated by the bamboo steering pole that slipped from its mooring. However, the whole experience was authentic, and an adventure. Anchors, away!
I visited new friends staying at the Batanes Resort, 1 1/2 miles away, to check out the accommodations (recommended, but get the ocean view Itbayat or Sabtang cottages) and to watch the sunset from their beach, and it was dark when I walked back to where I was staying at Seaside Lodge. There are no taxis, very few cars, a couple of jeepneys for inter-town travel, some tricycles, and a number of scooters and some motorcycles. A couple of lone scooter riders stopped to offer me a ride, and our tour guide certifies that the offer is sincere and without malice and no remuneration but a smile and thank you is expected. The authenticity and sincerity of the people beguiles and disarms, and is a breath of fresh air. And what are we city slickers doing about going with the flow and being laid back and not sweating the small things? Going into zazen? The masseuse was 2 hours late, and she smiles and says she overslept. We rescheduled after dinner, and we were late, and relieved that she wasn’t there waiting. She knocks as we’re about to go to bed, says, she was called to Fundacion Pacita, and did 3 massages, do we still want one? Our lunch caterer in Uyugan did not have lunch ready when we arrived, uh oh. She forgot to put it in her schedule but she’ll have one ready for us in 30 minutes. She called her husband back from the farm and put him to work, then had lunch on the table as she promised. She was a barangay chief for 3 terms and now she’s running for the council, and maybe town mayor someday. She is a multi-tasker and we empathize perfectly. We couldn’t get a manicure appointment from the 3 manicurist in town, because they’re all at a wedding, which by custom is attended by everyone. The party was on the street, so we asked if we could come, and we were warmly welcomed. They’ re playing carinyosa and dancing the traditional folk dance. We got in the mood and I danced with the groom, then another guest who had already too much palek, the local sugar cane brew. He wasn’t going to let me go, and I didn’t want to offend, so I was about to dance again, but Lida rescued me and took me away. It was the custom to give a gift of money to the bride and groom, and we were delighted to do the same.
People smile and greet you warmly on the street. I was poking around the vernacular houses, curious about an occupied interior and the man of the house introduced his family and invited me for coffee. The mayor stopped to say hello,and chatted. A bucolic scene is displayed as you drive in the countryside. A man knee-deep in the receding tide casting his net, a young boy tethering his goat, the farmer in the field, the basket weaver at her craft, a family group laden with produce in baskets on their backs, leading their carabao to their destination, a 103 year old man weaving a fish net, children playing in the school yard, a man taking down coconuts, undulating pastures, cows and carabaos on hills and ridges grazing, surf breaking on the shore, or exploding against volcanic cliffs, a calm blue lagoon, bright orange pandanus fruit, azure sky, warm sun, gentle breeze, dollars in your pocket. Is this paradise?
http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=53723&id=1425897414&l=d21311fb73
http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=53715&id=1425897414&l=147a1e0e77
Grand Tour of the Philippines
Philippine Tour Notes
I've been reading the paper and the presidential candidates have criminal or ethical charges, a senator fled the country to avoid murder charges, the military arrested 43 health care workers without the correct legal warrant with sweeping allegations that they are NPA members and their conference is designed to train them into making explosives, an ex=president who was found guilty of corruption charges is able to run again for the office because it's surreal, he received presidential pardon and his slate is deemed squeaky clean, and more unbelievable, he is pulling 3rd in the polls, karaoke bars have stopped playing Sinatra's My way because the song apparently had stimulated assaults and 6 killings so far, and I'm only into the 2nd week of my tour and I'm getting weary and irritated by the diffident and subservient manner of the staff who serve the tourist directly, the bellhops, drivers, waiters, reception staff, and it's hard to keep track and be constantly clarifying the real message behind the vague and indirect ways people communicate, however the country is beautiful, it deserves the moniker Pearl of the Orient. I also have a bone to pick with how the tour guides are trained about their commentary on heritage sites, of course I've started in Cebu and Bohol, where the Spaniards first landed, it is rich with historical landmarks of the colonization, but the guides only address the arrival of the Spaniard and the colonization, I wish this would be an opportunity to educate about our rich pre-Hispanic heritage, and I wish tour operators emphasize the indigenous culture, beliefs, daily life, government, etc. Also the tour promotional materials are so over the top, typical Filipino bombast and exaggeration, and you arrive and somehow a little disappointed because the reality does not match the promise, I'd rather be surprised in the other direction. I think tourism here needs regulations about truth in advertising. anyway, I'm a hard critic because I want tourism to be seamless and really a fantastic experience here without apologies , since it is advertised as meeting international standards, to match the beauty of the land, however, I'm still having a great time , the beaches and sea breeze are relaxing, the food fantastic, Manila has new centers of entertainment and restaurant complexes, Greenbelt just added another mall to their complex, full of designer boutiques, Prada, Chanel, Louis Vuitton, and the like, the Skyway from the airport to Makati just opened 2 months ago, and it's 20 minutes to my hotel, unbelievable, and the spas are cropping up everywhere. I need to go to Thailand,and Bali, and compare, as the resorts advertised from these places seem to have the same look as the new expensive resorts opening here, I wonder if their tourist services are more sophisticated. I went out of the resort compound to visit the nearby barangay, and they sent a security guard with me, oh well.
Barangay Adecor
I was battling some intestinal virus since leaving Bohol, which was really making me feel cranky (and crappy) but now my bowels are back in control, was it my change in attitude? I went into Zen mode and swayed wherever the breeze blew, like the palm trees dancing on the pearly shores of Pearl Farm. On my walk to the Barangay escorted by the local security guard, and joined by a Pearl Farm employee getting off from her work in the kitchen, they are very friendly and simple people, grateful they are working at the resort, there was a town hall meeting in the basketball plaza, well-attended, they are planning the upcoming fiesta of their patron saint, St Vincent from somewhere, they have a little chapel, and there's a priest who comes to say mass every other Sunday, apparently he makes the rounds of all the barangays among the remote islands. Karaoke singing is blaring in one section of the barangay and there were men drinking san miguel and having a ball, who were not at the town hall meeting BTW, I didn't witness any karaoke violence though, then there was a half dozen men on the beach singing a capella while fashioning the skeleton of a boat, locally made from indigenous materials, then fitted with outboard motors, it can be built very cheaply and very sea worthy. Butuan in Cotabato is where they found the remains of pre-Hispanic boats that sailed around the Southeast and reached as far as Madagascar, this seafaring culture of pre-HIspanic philippines is being celebrated by the Balangay voyage project, spearheaded by those dreamers who scaled Mt Everest 4 years ago? I was so enamored by this venture that I continue to follow the voyage and sent monetary support. google balangay voyage further, it is so inspiring.. Anyway, this small barangay here continue the tradition of hand-crafted boats. Abject Poverty is in the urban areas, here in the province, food is plenty, people build boats bayanihan style, they weave fish nets, they tend fish corrals, plant vegetables and flowers, everyone has shelter fashioned from nipa and coconut , in those little nipa huts I can see the flicker of TV screens, and they plan weekend events like disco at the plaza and basketball and karaokefests, then there's the annual fiesta of course , not to mention holidays celebrated throughout. Children look healthy and happily chasing dogs and each other. They look at you shyly but 2 pretty litltle girls allowed a picture hugging each other, best friends forever. The lady has lived there over 2o years, she knows the history of the place, the barangay name Adecor is from the Aguinaldo company that operated a real pearl farm there years ago, when the pearl business closed shop the people elected to stay, then the place was transformed into the current resort, which is the main employer of the area. There are 1800 registered voters in the barangay, I wonder how many will be counted in the elections, there is so much concern expressed about the communications being jammed to prevent electronic transmission of votes for counting, this is the first time they are also implementing electronic voting, so a lot of worries there too, whether the masses can operate the machines correctly, never having any experience with computers, and GMA is threatening to extend her reign if the elections cannot be declared properly counted, etc., and of course she is running for councilor in her district, says there's nothing barring her from the constitution, of course she'll win, she has showered the district with pork barrel projects and her picture is attached to all these in fact her pictue is attached to all that's happening all over the Philippines in the remote barrios, her picture is the only politiicians billboard, identifying the project as project of GMA for the benefit of the people, from roads, new airports, ports, scholarships, agricultuture,everythign that a government should be doing is identified with her alone, oh well. Can anybody guess who'll win this election here/
http://www.facebook.com/photo.php?pid=953414&l=2f2eb4e430&id=1425897414
Paddling the Puerto Princesa Subterrenean River
It's already an adventure to get to the mouth of the cave where the underground river comes out to empty into the sea, and where tourists board paddle bancas to take them into the belly of Hades. I asked the cave guide if we can turn off the spotlight so I can see how dark it is (oxymoron?). Nope, can't do it, but if I close my eyes, that would answer my question, tusong Pinoy! The chambers are huge, the limestone formations eerie, the river water crystal green, drip,drip of water from the ceiling, in one chamber, named the Cathedral, was very high, bats hanging on jutting formations, the ceiling and walls, in slumber, cave swallows twittering as they fly to find their way by reflected sound, then suddenly a spotlight disturbing the ambience, from the opposite direction of returning tourists. The guide posed a question, what name do you call the bat youngling?Bata, heh heh. The cave is stunning. It took 2 hours by bus to get to the other side of Palawan as Puerto Princesa is on the Sulu Sea side in the east and the river empties into the South China Sea in the west, then in Sabang, a 20-minute motorboat ride in the open sea to reach the entrance to the cave. Along the way we saw the lush Palawan countryside, farms and farmers, rain forests, limestone cliffs, mahogany and cashew trees, had a pit stop in a viewing area, for toilets, coffee and pearls. Fresh water pearls are practically being given away, and the real McCoy South Sea pearl is for a pittance. Then after we got out of the cave we had lunch in Sabang where the beach is golden and the water at 30 degrees C, we swam until it was time to return. Our guide was having a Tamilok ceviche, but I dare not try it, my good defense is I'm still recovering from intestinal virus.
http://www.facebook.com/photo.php?pid=959359&l=721a197a00&id=1425897414
http://blog.legendpalawan.com.ph/2008/06/tamilok-longest-oyster.html
Island Hopping on Honda Bay
There are more than a dozen islets and sandbars that are scattered in Honda Bay, most tour operators take you to 3 islands for beaching and snorkeling, or diving. There's Starfish Island, Bat Island, Cowrie Island, Pandan Island, Snake Island, a long and narrow curvaceous sandbar, Meara Marina, Luli Island (from lulubog-lilitaw, depending on the tide), Senorita Island, where lapu-lapu breeds, Arriceffi where Dos Palmas Resort is, and private islands and unnamed ones. We Went to 2, Pandan and Snake Island and the third site is not an island but a floating platform to dive from to view the magnificent Pambato Reef. It was worth it giving up an island, but too bad that we didn't have underwater camera. Except for the sheer depth and dimension of the Australian Great Barrier Reef, where the coral columns tower like the skyscrapers of NYC and the spaces between them seem like plunging canyons , this was just as spectacular in color and diversity. Anyway, you have to see it, it's indescribable. I think you can spend 9 days in Palawan easily and not be bored, from weekend to weekend, and combine moderate accommodations in strategic locations for touring, and stay a night in the expensive resorts for spa treatments and pampering. Definitely stay in Puerto Princesa, to get the vibe of the city and the island, staying in the top resorts isolates you from the local ambience, it's cheaper to book tours locally, the prices are standard and the operators are well regulated, and they follow the rules! They're afraid of penalties, because their Mayor enforces them. This mayor Edward Hagedorn had been mayor since 1992, and supposedly ineligible to run for office in 2010 elections having reached term limit, however one term was disqualified for counting because his election then was a recall election and does not qualify as a term, whatever, it's all legal reasoning, anyway he's running this year, but before his election in 1992 he was a gambling lord, running jueteng and his family had been big loggers denuding the Palawan forests. As Mayor however, he cleaned up the city literally, it has won awards as the cleanest city, banned gambling, stopped illegal fishing, got rid of crime, relocated squatters into permanent housing, started a reforestation program, etc, but most of all was the vision behind tourism and conservation happening now. And he's not even native, he's from Paranaque and his father is German. He runs the city like a benevolent despot, with Christian platitudes in his speeches, he's GMA's darling because he's popular and investors and banks like him. He does have style, like he started a Festival for the Forest, for the reforestation efforts, and every Feb 14 he officiates in the Mangrove Love Festival, a mass wedding that is held free for the couples, including reception, in exchange for the couples planting mangrove trees in the swamp and maintaining them to sustain the environment balance. How about that, too bad I'm leaving before this event and would miss a most unique experience.
http://www.facebook.com/photo.php?pid=961877&l=3755f6d5b3&id=1425897414
Manila
My Tagaytay tour was cancelled because my travel agent couldn't fill up the minimum , but my friend quickly offered to personally accompany me on a private tour on my return from Batanes, how lovely is that? It gained me a free day in Manila to go to places not in the formal tour itinerary. To do a Manila city tour will cost up to over P2000 to include the Chinese cemetery, to hire a driver and AC car from the agency for 10 hours will cost P9000, the taxi will do up to 6 hours for $3000, I negotiated P500 with a taxi to take me to the Chinese cemetery, wait a few minutes, then to stop by Malacanang for a few minutes then drop me off in Ongpin to do Chinatown and Quiapo. It was a perfect day. Ongpin had cleaned up its act since a few years ago when I tried to visit and the place was literally buried in garbage. Now it smells of sizzling barbecue from the sidewalk vendors, and of other creatures cooking on the fryer or grill, that look so inviting it makes you hungry, it has all the colors of the rainbow with vegetable and fruit stands crowding the sidewalks and infiltrating the street, people and tricycles and jeepneys jockey with one another to get through, it's the Chinese New Year, the year of the Tiger, Gung Hay Fat Choy!, so people are milling about in the trinket stalls and shops buying lucky charms and amulets, and the traditional sticky rice cake, Tikoy is selling like hotcakes! Firecrackers and loud drums and noisemakers jolt you periodically, they're supposed to drive away evil spirits, then I don't know how they do it but the lion and dragon dance troupes manage to clear the streets briefly so they can go through and stop by many of the businesses to bring them good luck. I forgot how big Chinatown is, and I 'm happy to see that it is vibrant, crowded, exciting, noisy,colorful, and you can't go wrong with the food whether purchased from the street or from a white table-clothed air conditioned restaurant. I stopped by for lunch in a seafood restaurant, You can choose your entree from almost 2 dozen tanks of live catch, from different fish species, to clams and other shellfish, lobster, stone crab, eel, sharks, prawns, etc. Then I segued to Quiapo and passed the Basilica of the Black Nazarene, its courtyard a marketplace selling the black nazarene and religious icons, candles, food and drinks, fortune tellers, then on the way to the souvenir shops sa ilalim ng tulay, you pass vendors of all persuasion, selling everything from auto parts to fake Italian jewelry. I was able to purchase an outlet adaptor for my electric converter for P85, the currency exchange is P46.29 to $1 today, bad. for the dollar, good for the Peso. The TV is peppered with maudlin ads by candidates, appealing to the emotions of the masses.
Off to Laoag today to do Ilocandia for 3 days, then back to Manila.
I hear y'all buried in the white stuff, heh heh
Metty
http://www.facebook.com/photo.php?pid=967586&l=afef3a69fb&id=1425897414
Ilokandia
This has got to be the turning point in this grand tour, opening my eyes and heart to the Ilokano people, I mean their history is the stuff of epic novels. There are so many revolutionary heroes among them (and so many infamous ones too,) and the heroic stand at Tirad Pass should compare with any great stands for independence in the history of the world. And they know what battles to fight early on in the colonial period. I take my hat off to the Basi revolt of 1807, when they defied the Spaniards after imposing prohibition of the distillation of the regions favorite sugar cane liquor. Like, hey you may oppress us but you cannot take our basi away. They were subdued of course, and the ring leaders decapitated , but they made their point.
Fort Ilokandia Resort remains a Marcos monument in spite of confiscation by the government and privatization with Chinese management. The buildings are well-designed, patterned after colonial residential architecture and the grounds and beach are beautiful, but the decor is tacky and the service and food lousy. The art work on the walls are blow ups of pictures of Imelda with various world dignitaries and of winners of various beauty contests and such. I played golf, it’s 20 minutes away in Paoay, near the Malacanang North, another Marcos monument, on the edge of Paoay lake, the view is beautiful, but just as the farmland is parched due to El Nino, the fairway had lost its turf, and on the holes along the edge of the lake you are hitting on sand fairways. The greens are kept intact but slow. I was the only one on the course and my caddy, and my game was pitiful, the 2 lessons I’ve had before Christmas had been forgotten.
I caught the end of Pamulinawen festival and the start of the Guling Guling Festival, very nice and colorful. Vigan heritage block will be great once it’s developed, those colonial houses would be very lovely once restored, there’s one restaurant already with al fresco dining, very old world, and at night the block is lighted with lanterns, pretty. Pagudpud which is the northermost edge of Luzon has a long stretch of white beach and several small resorts with restaurants, sunbathing on the beach and soaking in the sea is fine but the surf in these parts is voluminous with strong undertow and can be dangerous.
The local cuisine is great, I tried the Ilokano delicacies bagnet, poque-poque, tinubon, their empanada, insarabasab, and their roll with anise called biscocho is wonderful.
Back in Manila and will leave for Banaue tomorrow. Imelda had been sighted here to attend the Guling Guling fiesta, she's running for congresswoman. I took a private tour with a guide and driver and the driver says he used to be in the army and served in the Marcos Malacanang for 10 years, I got a lot stories and politics, whether he's lying or not, they're pretty fantastic,
Metty
The Banaue Rice Terraces
> http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=53113&id=1425897414&l=73c68f320f
http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=53109&id=1425897414&l=0545283b32
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> The rice terraces are all over the mountains, wherever there is a water source there are rice terraces, big and small to spectacular, the most amazing are found in Batad, which are panoramic and amphitheater-like but the access requires a 2-hour hike over difficult uneven and steep terrain, and in Banaue which has a comfortable easy access view point. They are over 2000 years old, built by people who crossed the land bridges from China and Taiwan and settled in these mountains. The people do have Chinese features, which makes the theory credible, but there are critics to this theory, who negate the land bridge approach and who claim that the Philippines arose from the bottom of the sea, pushed out by volcanic eruptions and earthquakes from the thin Pacific crust, whatever. The fact is the rice terraces are there. They are a high maintenance endeavor requiring everyone in the family including children to work the fields. The risers need to be weeded regularly, the soil manually tilled because carabaos cannot be brought to the high elevation, the terrace dams need constant repair and maintenance, and the water canals and irrigation system guarded vigilantly to prevent abuse of use by others sharing the community resource, and because of the single growing season due to the high elevation, harvesting is a delicate practice so as not to waste any grain, the rice stalks are cut in single stems with a special tool, not swept cut by a scythe, then each strand tied together and stored with the husk until ready to use, only 2-3 days worth is processed at a time, etc. It's back breaking work.Because rice is the primary subsistence crop, the rice god is the supreme idol together with hundreds more for various needs and rituals.
> The saddest image are the once magnificent mountains which are now 90% denuded of virgin forest and covered entirely by cogon grass, one could weep. The birds no longer sing in these mountains, and the Kamagong is endangered, the deer is gone and few wild boars roam. All the grand mountains and forests of the Philippines have been raped and looted for centuries and the abuse continues with unchecked logging, commercial development, settlement, mining, corporate plantations, irresponsible leaders and politicians, you name it, and the indigenous peoples driven from their habitat and forced into begging, and to give up their life style, identity and traditions to work for survival in low paying jobs in the general community. The rice terraces and the life style that created it must be preserved to remind us all that mother earth must be taken care of for if we destroy her, we destroy ourselves.
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http://www.philstar.com/Article.aspx?articleId=548839&publicationSubCategoryId=451
http://www.philstar.com/Article.aspx?articleId=553754&publicationSubCategoryId=79
I am spending my last week in Manila and getting steeped in its art and cultural/heritage scene and am very blown away by the creativity, pride, and patriotism expressed by our artists intent on re"righting" and retelling our history. Though this scene does not yet reach or interest the masses, who continue to swarm in shopping malls and movie houses, and watch wowowee on TV, the movement is there and we can hope that some financier with a vision will underwrite a popular movie or TV show or something someday and spread the message incubating in this small and elite group. We didn't have museums or cultural centers then, and grudgingly I credit the Marcos regime and Imelda for setting herself as patroness of the arts, with the laying of the infrastructure for showcasing our art and culture. The Philippine National Museum is rich with the display of our patrimony, its current movable exhibit is about the review of Philippine-American relations during the Philippine-American War years, 1898-1915. BTW, its only recently that the designation was changed in the Library of Congress catalogue from the American-given label of the Philippine Insurrection. It is a revelation, and every Filipino and America should be educated so we can see each other more clearly and deal with each other with mutual respect and equality. The rich here are also starting to give back and sharing their largesse, through their museums that have opened to the public. The Ayala Museum is world class, and so is the Lopez and the Yuchenco Museum. The latter has a wonderful exhibit of Santiago Bose and the historian and journalist Carlos Quirino. The Metropolitan Museum of Manila likewise has a large collection of modernists. THe Cultural Center puts up superb productions. I saw Rody Vera's adaptation of Chekhov's 3 sisters, Tatlong Mariya, directed by Loy Arcenas, it's 2 1/2 hours long but you forget the time, it's that good and absorbing. I'm going to see the neo-ballet on Friday. The tourism dept is doing a great job of restoring heritage sites and creating heritage tours, I was engulfed with nationalistic fervor in the Aguinaldo Museum and wept. These heritage tours are made available to schoolchildren but I don't think in a systematic fashion. Unfortunately, there are very few visitors to the museums and the cultural center.
I've been reading the paper and the presidential candidates have criminal or ethical charges, a senator fled the country to avoid murder charges, the military arrested 43 health care workers without the correct legal warrant with sweeping allegations that they are NPA members and their conference is designed to train them into making explosives, an ex=president who was found guilty of corruption charges is able to run again for the office because it's surreal, he received presidential pardon and his slate is deemed squeaky clean, and more unbelievable, he is pulling 3rd in the polls, karaoke bars have stopped playing Sinatra's My way because the song apparently had stimulated assaults and 6 killings so far, and I'm only into the 2nd week of my tour and I'm getting weary and irritated by the diffident and subservient manner of the staff who serve the tourist directly, the bellhops, drivers, waiters, reception staff, and it's hard to keep track and be constantly clarifying the real message behind the vague and indirect ways people communicate, however the country is beautiful, it deserves the moniker Pearl of the Orient. I also have a bone to pick with how the tour guides are trained about their commentary on heritage sites, of course I've started in Cebu and Bohol, where the Spaniards first landed, it is rich with historical landmarks of the colonization, but the guides only address the arrival of the Spaniard and the colonization, I wish this would be an opportunity to educate about our rich pre-Hispanic heritage, and I wish tour operators emphasize the indigenous culture, beliefs, daily life, government, etc. Also the tour promotional materials are so over the top, typical Filipino bombast and exaggeration, and you arrive and somehow a little disappointed because the reality does not match the promise, I'd rather be surprised in the other direction. I think tourism here needs regulations about truth in advertising. anyway, I'm a hard critic because I want tourism to be seamless and really a fantastic experience here without apologies , since it is advertised as meeting international standards, to match the beauty of the land, however, I'm still having a great time , the beaches and sea breeze are relaxing, the food fantastic, Manila has new centers of entertainment and restaurant complexes, Greenbelt just added another mall to their complex, full of designer boutiques, Prada, Chanel, Louis Vuitton, and the like, the Skyway from the airport to Makati just opened 2 months ago, and it's 20 minutes to my hotel, unbelievable, and the spas are cropping up everywhere. I need to go to Thailand,and Bali, and compare, as the resorts advertised from these places seem to have the same look as the new expensive resorts opening here, I wonder if their tourist services are more sophisticated. I went out of the resort compound to visit the nearby barangay, and they sent a security guard with me, oh well.
Barangay Adecor
I was battling some intestinal virus since leaving Bohol, which was really making me feel cranky (and crappy) but now my bowels are back in control, was it my change in attitude? I went into Zen mode and swayed wherever the breeze blew, like the palm trees dancing on the pearly shores of Pearl Farm. On my walk to the Barangay escorted by the local security guard, and joined by a Pearl Farm employee getting off from her work in the kitchen, they are very friendly and simple people, grateful they are working at the resort, there was a town hall meeting in the basketball plaza, well-attended, they are planning the upcoming fiesta of their patron saint, St Vincent from somewhere, they have a little chapel, and there's a priest who comes to say mass every other Sunday, apparently he makes the rounds of all the barangays among the remote islands. Karaoke singing is blaring in one section of the barangay and there were men drinking san miguel and having a ball, who were not at the town hall meeting BTW, I didn't witness any karaoke violence though, then there was a half dozen men on the beach singing a capella while fashioning the skeleton of a boat, locally made from indigenous materials, then fitted with outboard motors, it can be built very cheaply and very sea worthy. Butuan in Cotabato is where they found the remains of pre-Hispanic boats that sailed around the Southeast and reached as far as Madagascar, this seafaring culture of pre-HIspanic philippines is being celebrated by the Balangay voyage project, spearheaded by those dreamers who scaled Mt Everest 4 years ago? I was so enamored by this venture that I continue to follow the voyage and sent monetary support. google balangay voyage further, it is so inspiring.. Anyway, this small barangay here continue the tradition of hand-crafted boats. Abject Poverty is in the urban areas, here in the province, food is plenty, people build boats bayanihan style, they weave fish nets, they tend fish corrals, plant vegetables and flowers, everyone has shelter fashioned from nipa and coconut , in those little nipa huts I can see the flicker of TV screens, and they plan weekend events like disco at the plaza and basketball and karaokefests, then there's the annual fiesta of course , not to mention holidays celebrated throughout. Children look healthy and happily chasing dogs and each other. They look at you shyly but 2 pretty litltle girls allowed a picture hugging each other, best friends forever. The lady has lived there over 2o years, she knows the history of the place, the barangay name Adecor is from the Aguinaldo company that operated a real pearl farm there years ago, when the pearl business closed shop the people elected to stay, then the place was transformed into the current resort, which is the main employer of the area. There are 1800 registered voters in the barangay, I wonder how many will be counted in the elections, there is so much concern expressed about the communications being jammed to prevent electronic transmission of votes for counting, this is the first time they are also implementing electronic voting, so a lot of worries there too, whether the masses can operate the machines correctly, never having any experience with computers, and GMA is threatening to extend her reign if the elections cannot be declared properly counted, etc., and of course she is running for councilor in her district, says there's nothing barring her from the constitution, of course she'll win, she has showered the district with pork barrel projects and her picture is attached to all these in fact her pictue is attached to all that's happening all over the Philippines in the remote barrios, her picture is the only politiicians billboard, identifying the project as project of GMA for the benefit of the people, from roads, new airports, ports, scholarships, agricultuture,everythign that a government should be doing is identified with her alone, oh well. Can anybody guess who'll win this election here/
http://www.facebook.com/photo.php?pid=953414&l=2f2eb4e430&id=1425897414
Paddling the Puerto Princesa Subterrenean River
It's already an adventure to get to the mouth of the cave where the underground river comes out to empty into the sea, and where tourists board paddle bancas to take them into the belly of Hades. I asked the cave guide if we can turn off the spotlight so I can see how dark it is (oxymoron?). Nope, can't do it, but if I close my eyes, that would answer my question, tusong Pinoy! The chambers are huge, the limestone formations eerie, the river water crystal green, drip,drip of water from the ceiling, in one chamber, named the Cathedral, was very high, bats hanging on jutting formations, the ceiling and walls, in slumber, cave swallows twittering as they fly to find their way by reflected sound, then suddenly a spotlight disturbing the ambience, from the opposite direction of returning tourists. The guide posed a question, what name do you call the bat youngling?Bata, heh heh. The cave is stunning. It took 2 hours by bus to get to the other side of Palawan as Puerto Princesa is on the Sulu Sea side in the east and the river empties into the South China Sea in the west, then in Sabang, a 20-minute motorboat ride in the open sea to reach the entrance to the cave. Along the way we saw the lush Palawan countryside, farms and farmers, rain forests, limestone cliffs, mahogany and cashew trees, had a pit stop in a viewing area, for toilets, coffee and pearls. Fresh water pearls are practically being given away, and the real McCoy South Sea pearl is for a pittance. Then after we got out of the cave we had lunch in Sabang where the beach is golden and the water at 30 degrees C, we swam until it was time to return. Our guide was having a Tamilok ceviche, but I dare not try it, my good defense is I'm still recovering from intestinal virus.
http://www.facebook.com/photo.php?pid=959359&l=721a197a00&id=1425897414
http://blog.legendpalawan.com.ph/2008/06/tamilok-longest-oyster.html
Island Hopping on Honda Bay
There are more than a dozen islets and sandbars that are scattered in Honda Bay, most tour operators take you to 3 islands for beaching and snorkeling, or diving. There's Starfish Island, Bat Island, Cowrie Island, Pandan Island, Snake Island, a long and narrow curvaceous sandbar, Meara Marina, Luli Island (from lulubog-lilitaw, depending on the tide), Senorita Island, where lapu-lapu breeds, Arriceffi where Dos Palmas Resort is, and private islands and unnamed ones. We Went to 2, Pandan and Snake Island and the third site is not an island but a floating platform to dive from to view the magnificent Pambato Reef. It was worth it giving up an island, but too bad that we didn't have underwater camera. Except for the sheer depth and dimension of the Australian Great Barrier Reef, where the coral columns tower like the skyscrapers of NYC and the spaces between them seem like plunging canyons , this was just as spectacular in color and diversity. Anyway, you have to see it, it's indescribable. I think you can spend 9 days in Palawan easily and not be bored, from weekend to weekend, and combine moderate accommodations in strategic locations for touring, and stay a night in the expensive resorts for spa treatments and pampering. Definitely stay in Puerto Princesa, to get the vibe of the city and the island, staying in the top resorts isolates you from the local ambience, it's cheaper to book tours locally, the prices are standard and the operators are well regulated, and they follow the rules! They're afraid of penalties, because their Mayor enforces them. This mayor Edward Hagedorn had been mayor since 1992, and supposedly ineligible to run for office in 2010 elections having reached term limit, however one term was disqualified for counting because his election then was a recall election and does not qualify as a term, whatever, it's all legal reasoning, anyway he's running this year, but before his election in 1992 he was a gambling lord, running jueteng and his family had been big loggers denuding the Palawan forests. As Mayor however, he cleaned up the city literally, it has won awards as the cleanest city, banned gambling, stopped illegal fishing, got rid of crime, relocated squatters into permanent housing, started a reforestation program, etc, but most of all was the vision behind tourism and conservation happening now. And he's not even native, he's from Paranaque and his father is German. He runs the city like a benevolent despot, with Christian platitudes in his speeches, he's GMA's darling because he's popular and investors and banks like him. He does have style, like he started a Festival for the Forest, for the reforestation efforts, and every Feb 14 he officiates in the Mangrove Love Festival, a mass wedding that is held free for the couples, including reception, in exchange for the couples planting mangrove trees in the swamp and maintaining them to sustain the environment balance. How about that, too bad I'm leaving before this event and would miss a most unique experience.
http://www.facebook.com/photo.php?pid=961877&l=3755f6d5b3&id=1425897414
Manila
My Tagaytay tour was cancelled because my travel agent couldn't fill up the minimum , but my friend quickly offered to personally accompany me on a private tour on my return from Batanes, how lovely is that? It gained me a free day in Manila to go to places not in the formal tour itinerary. To do a Manila city tour will cost up to over P2000 to include the Chinese cemetery, to hire a driver and AC car from the agency for 10 hours will cost P9000, the taxi will do up to 6 hours for $3000, I negotiated P500 with a taxi to take me to the Chinese cemetery, wait a few minutes, then to stop by Malacanang for a few minutes then drop me off in Ongpin to do Chinatown and Quiapo. It was a perfect day. Ongpin had cleaned up its act since a few years ago when I tried to visit and the place was literally buried in garbage. Now it smells of sizzling barbecue from the sidewalk vendors, and of other creatures cooking on the fryer or grill, that look so inviting it makes you hungry, it has all the colors of the rainbow with vegetable and fruit stands crowding the sidewalks and infiltrating the street, people and tricycles and jeepneys jockey with one another to get through, it's the Chinese New Year, the year of the Tiger, Gung Hay Fat Choy!, so people are milling about in the trinket stalls and shops buying lucky charms and amulets, and the traditional sticky rice cake, Tikoy is selling like hotcakes! Firecrackers and loud drums and noisemakers jolt you periodically, they're supposed to drive away evil spirits, then I don't know how they do it but the lion and dragon dance troupes manage to clear the streets briefly so they can go through and stop by many of the businesses to bring them good luck. I forgot how big Chinatown is, and I 'm happy to see that it is vibrant, crowded, exciting, noisy,colorful, and you can't go wrong with the food whether purchased from the street or from a white table-clothed air conditioned restaurant. I stopped by for lunch in a seafood restaurant, You can choose your entree from almost 2 dozen tanks of live catch, from different fish species, to clams and other shellfish, lobster, stone crab, eel, sharks, prawns, etc. Then I segued to Quiapo and passed the Basilica of the Black Nazarene, its courtyard a marketplace selling the black nazarene and religious icons, candles, food and drinks, fortune tellers, then on the way to the souvenir shops sa ilalim ng tulay, you pass vendors of all persuasion, selling everything from auto parts to fake Italian jewelry. I was able to purchase an outlet adaptor for my electric converter for P85, the currency exchange is P46.29 to $1 today, bad. for the dollar, good for the Peso. The TV is peppered with maudlin ads by candidates, appealing to the emotions of the masses.
Off to Laoag today to do Ilocandia for 3 days, then back to Manila.
I hear y'all buried in the white stuff, heh heh
Metty
http://www.facebook.com/photo.php?pid=967586&l=afef3a69fb&id=1425897414
Ilokandia
This has got to be the turning point in this grand tour, opening my eyes and heart to the Ilokano people, I mean their history is the stuff of epic novels. There are so many revolutionary heroes among them (and so many infamous ones too,) and the heroic stand at Tirad Pass should compare with any great stands for independence in the history of the world. And they know what battles to fight early on in the colonial period. I take my hat off to the Basi revolt of 1807, when they defied the Spaniards after imposing prohibition of the distillation of the regions favorite sugar cane liquor. Like, hey you may oppress us but you cannot take our basi away. They were subdued of course, and the ring leaders decapitated , but they made their point.
Fort Ilokandia Resort remains a Marcos monument in spite of confiscation by the government and privatization with Chinese management. The buildings are well-designed, patterned after colonial residential architecture and the grounds and beach are beautiful, but the decor is tacky and the service and food lousy. The art work on the walls are blow ups of pictures of Imelda with various world dignitaries and of winners of various beauty contests and such. I played golf, it’s 20 minutes away in Paoay, near the Malacanang North, another Marcos monument, on the edge of Paoay lake, the view is beautiful, but just as the farmland is parched due to El Nino, the fairway had lost its turf, and on the holes along the edge of the lake you are hitting on sand fairways. The greens are kept intact but slow. I was the only one on the course and my caddy, and my game was pitiful, the 2 lessons I’ve had before Christmas had been forgotten.
I caught the end of Pamulinawen festival and the start of the Guling Guling Festival, very nice and colorful. Vigan heritage block will be great once it’s developed, those colonial houses would be very lovely once restored, there’s one restaurant already with al fresco dining, very old world, and at night the block is lighted with lanterns, pretty. Pagudpud which is the northermost edge of Luzon has a long stretch of white beach and several small resorts with restaurants, sunbathing on the beach and soaking in the sea is fine but the surf in these parts is voluminous with strong undertow and can be dangerous.
The local cuisine is great, I tried the Ilokano delicacies bagnet, poque-poque, tinubon, their empanada, insarabasab, and their roll with anise called biscocho is wonderful.
Back in Manila and will leave for Banaue tomorrow. Imelda had been sighted here to attend the Guling Guling fiesta, she's running for congresswoman. I took a private tour with a guide and driver and the driver says he used to be in the army and served in the Marcos Malacanang for 10 years, I got a lot stories and politics, whether he's lying or not, they're pretty fantastic,
Metty
The Banaue Rice Terraces
> http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=53113&id=1425897414&l=73c68f320f
http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=53109&id=1425897414&l=0545283b32
>
> The rice terraces are all over the mountains, wherever there is a water source there are rice terraces, big and small to spectacular, the most amazing are found in Batad, which are panoramic and amphitheater-like but the access requires a 2-hour hike over difficult uneven and steep terrain, and in Banaue which has a comfortable easy access view point. They are over 2000 years old, built by people who crossed the land bridges from China and Taiwan and settled in these mountains. The people do have Chinese features, which makes the theory credible, but there are critics to this theory, who negate the land bridge approach and who claim that the Philippines arose from the bottom of the sea, pushed out by volcanic eruptions and earthquakes from the thin Pacific crust, whatever. The fact is the rice terraces are there. They are a high maintenance endeavor requiring everyone in the family including children to work the fields. The risers need to be weeded regularly, the soil manually tilled because carabaos cannot be brought to the high elevation, the terrace dams need constant repair and maintenance, and the water canals and irrigation system guarded vigilantly to prevent abuse of use by others sharing the community resource, and because of the single growing season due to the high elevation, harvesting is a delicate practice so as not to waste any grain, the rice stalks are cut in single stems with a special tool, not swept cut by a scythe, then each strand tied together and stored with the husk until ready to use, only 2-3 days worth is processed at a time, etc. It's back breaking work.Because rice is the primary subsistence crop, the rice god is the supreme idol together with hundreds more for various needs and rituals.
> The saddest image are the once magnificent mountains which are now 90% denuded of virgin forest and covered entirely by cogon grass, one could weep. The birds no longer sing in these mountains, and the Kamagong is endangered, the deer is gone and few wild boars roam. All the grand mountains and forests of the Philippines have been raped and looted for centuries and the abuse continues with unchecked logging, commercial development, settlement, mining, corporate plantations, irresponsible leaders and politicians, you name it, and the indigenous peoples driven from their habitat and forced into begging, and to give up their life style, identity and traditions to work for survival in low paying jobs in the general community. The rice terraces and the life style that created it must be preserved to remind us all that mother earth must be taken care of for if we destroy her, we destroy ourselves.
>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>
http://www.philstar.com/Article.aspx?articleId=548839&publicationSubCategoryId=451
http://www.philstar.com/Article.aspx?articleId=553754&publicationSubCategoryId=79
I am spending my last week in Manila and getting steeped in its art and cultural/heritage scene and am very blown away by the creativity, pride, and patriotism expressed by our artists intent on re"righting" and retelling our history. Though this scene does not yet reach or interest the masses, who continue to swarm in shopping malls and movie houses, and watch wowowee on TV, the movement is there and we can hope that some financier with a vision will underwrite a popular movie or TV show or something someday and spread the message incubating in this small and elite group. We didn't have museums or cultural centers then, and grudgingly I credit the Marcos regime and Imelda for setting herself as patroness of the arts, with the laying of the infrastructure for showcasing our art and culture. The Philippine National Museum is rich with the display of our patrimony, its current movable exhibit is about the review of Philippine-American relations during the Philippine-American War years, 1898-1915. BTW, its only recently that the designation was changed in the Library of Congress catalogue from the American-given label of the Philippine Insurrection. It is a revelation, and every Filipino and America should be educated so we can see each other more clearly and deal with each other with mutual respect and equality. The rich here are also starting to give back and sharing their largesse, through their museums that have opened to the public. The Ayala Museum is world class, and so is the Lopez and the Yuchenco Museum. The latter has a wonderful exhibit of Santiago Bose and the historian and journalist Carlos Quirino. The Metropolitan Museum of Manila likewise has a large collection of modernists. THe Cultural Center puts up superb productions. I saw Rody Vera's adaptation of Chekhov's 3 sisters, Tatlong Mariya, directed by Loy Arcenas, it's 2 1/2 hours long but you forget the time, it's that good and absorbing. I'm going to see the neo-ballet on Friday. The tourism dept is doing a great job of restoring heritage sites and creating heritage tours, I was engulfed with nationalistic fervor in the Aguinaldo Museum and wept. These heritage tours are made available to schoolchildren but I don't think in a systematic fashion. Unfortunately, there are very few visitors to the museums and the cultural center.
Sunday, December 20, 2009
Egypt, Israel, Jordan
Hi everyone,
I just updated my website and thought you might want to check it out. To visit, paste the URLs into your browser.
http://web.me.com/mimanmetty
Israel, etc 2009
The Lost World
Gethsemane
Via Dolorosa
Bethlehem
Massada
Annunciation
Capernaum
Acre
Tel Aviv
Kibbutz
The Landscape
Cairo
The Nile
Food
Gods
The People
Petra
Take a look and let me know what you think!
Made on a Mac
I just updated my website and thought you might want to check it out. To visit, paste the URLs into your browser.
http://web.me.com/mimanmetty
Israel, etc 2009
The Lost World
Gethsemane
Via Dolorosa
Bethlehem
Massada
Annunciation
Capernaum
Acre
Tel Aviv
Kibbutz
The Landscape
Cairo
The Nile
Food
Gods
The People
Petra
Take a look and let me know what you think!
Made on a Mac
Friday, November 06, 2009
Why Did You Do That?
Why Did You Do That?
There is yet another grisly news of mass killing this morning, the massacre at Fort Hood. This week we heard about the serial rapist and killer with his mass graves right in his neighbor’s backyard. The media are in a frenzy interviewing experts who can shed light on the motives of the killers. We like to understand so the act will make sense to us, so we can classify it among the myriad values and attitudes that we have formed, learned from our own life experiences and observations. If we can’t classify it we are bewildered, confused. We won’t be at ease until we peg this action into something familiar, then we can set it aside and move on, satisfied in our understanding. You see, the measure of our understanding is limited by what we are able to process as familiar. Yes, there are experiences that we share as members of a group, a culture, a country, but as individuals, we are only ourselves, and another’s schemata of a good life may be our despair, or the demise of our soul.
I often wonder about the motives of those who act in the name of charity. We are self righteous in examining the motives of criminals, do we dare examine the motives of those who volunteer in soup kitchens and homeless shelters, those who entertain “senior dependents”, those who volunteer in medical missions, those who feed the children in Africa, those who topple regimes, those who impose political ideology on a people?
People who do bad things and good things have many things in common, often their motives are the same. Take the father who sexually molests his daughter, his motive is no different from any solicitous father,i.e., to teach his daughter about life. The parents of a pregnant teenager feel right in pressuring for marriage or adoption or abortion, against the preference of their daughter, what is their motive? Often protective, to spare their daughter a life of grief. Or the tourist who gives money or gifts to children in 3rd world countries, they feel sorry for these children and want to give them some happiness. Instead they have conditioned these children to become beggars and opportunists, and now consider them an annoyance in travel. The benevolent motive by the Spaniards of christianizing the Philippines and replacing its indigenous culture with their European civilization, killed the Filipino soul. Do we really understand the people of Iraq and Afghanistan to direct that democracy is good for them?
All I’m saying is that we should be very clear with our motives, because we can hurt with good intentions. The medical mission volunteer does it again and again because seeing the beaming and grateful faces of charity patients makes him feel good about himself, that he’s doing god’s work. He expects certain behaviour from the recipient of his charity and if he’s not clear with his motive, he might become angry if not forthcoming from his subject, and he might do something to punish them, like labeling them negatively, or changing program acceptance criteria, or changing his manner and behaviour with them , most commonly by becoming condescending, dismissive or authoritarian. What is Fil-Am’s motive in entertaining our senior citizens? Is it for Fil-Am to feel good about itself, to feel appreciated by the community? What is Fil-Am’s attitude towards our seniors? Do we see them as uninteresting, an uncreative group that needs us to provide diversion? Our seniors have a wealth of experience among themselves, living in the Philippines during times of great change and then uprooting themselves and coming to America. That required tremendous strength and resilience, and perhaps some sacrifice from some of them. If we change how we think about our seniors, perhaps we can have programs that are senior-centered, emphasizing their rich life experience and their strength, rather than providing organization-driven services that sees them as dependent and leading monotonous lives.
“This event is specifically designed to provide our senior dependents the opportunity to gather with their peers and break the monotony of their daily
lives.”
“Most of them can't drive, they take care of their grandkids, and stay home most of the time. Entertaining the "senior dependents" is one of the services that Fil-Am provides to the Filipino community.Please don't be offended by the message. No offense was meant.”
Yes, no offense was meant but it sure hurt me and offended me. Hopefully it’s only me who reacted this way, even if as you said, it was not meant for the likes of me.
There is yet another grisly news of mass killing this morning, the massacre at Fort Hood. This week we heard about the serial rapist and killer with his mass graves right in his neighbor’s backyard. The media are in a frenzy interviewing experts who can shed light on the motives of the killers. We like to understand so the act will make sense to us, so we can classify it among the myriad values and attitudes that we have formed, learned from our own life experiences and observations. If we can’t classify it we are bewildered, confused. We won’t be at ease until we peg this action into something familiar, then we can set it aside and move on, satisfied in our understanding. You see, the measure of our understanding is limited by what we are able to process as familiar. Yes, there are experiences that we share as members of a group, a culture, a country, but as individuals, we are only ourselves, and another’s schemata of a good life may be our despair, or the demise of our soul.
I often wonder about the motives of those who act in the name of charity. We are self righteous in examining the motives of criminals, do we dare examine the motives of those who volunteer in soup kitchens and homeless shelters, those who entertain “senior dependents”, those who volunteer in medical missions, those who feed the children in Africa, those who topple regimes, those who impose political ideology on a people?
People who do bad things and good things have many things in common, often their motives are the same. Take the father who sexually molests his daughter, his motive is no different from any solicitous father,i.e., to teach his daughter about life. The parents of a pregnant teenager feel right in pressuring for marriage or adoption or abortion, against the preference of their daughter, what is their motive? Often protective, to spare their daughter a life of grief. Or the tourist who gives money or gifts to children in 3rd world countries, they feel sorry for these children and want to give them some happiness. Instead they have conditioned these children to become beggars and opportunists, and now consider them an annoyance in travel. The benevolent motive by the Spaniards of christianizing the Philippines and replacing its indigenous culture with their European civilization, killed the Filipino soul. Do we really understand the people of Iraq and Afghanistan to direct that democracy is good for them?
All I’m saying is that we should be very clear with our motives, because we can hurt with good intentions. The medical mission volunteer does it again and again because seeing the beaming and grateful faces of charity patients makes him feel good about himself, that he’s doing god’s work. He expects certain behaviour from the recipient of his charity and if he’s not clear with his motive, he might become angry if not forthcoming from his subject, and he might do something to punish them, like labeling them negatively, or changing program acceptance criteria, or changing his manner and behaviour with them , most commonly by becoming condescending, dismissive or authoritarian. What is Fil-Am’s motive in entertaining our senior citizens? Is it for Fil-Am to feel good about itself, to feel appreciated by the community? What is Fil-Am’s attitude towards our seniors? Do we see them as uninteresting, an uncreative group that needs us to provide diversion? Our seniors have a wealth of experience among themselves, living in the Philippines during times of great change and then uprooting themselves and coming to America. That required tremendous strength and resilience, and perhaps some sacrifice from some of them. If we change how we think about our seniors, perhaps we can have programs that are senior-centered, emphasizing their rich life experience and their strength, rather than providing organization-driven services that sees them as dependent and leading monotonous lives.
“This event is specifically designed to provide our senior dependents the opportunity to gather with their peers and break the monotony of their daily
lives.”
“Most of them can't drive, they take care of their grandkids, and stay home most of the time. Entertaining the "senior dependents" is one of the services that Fil-Am provides to the Filipino community.Please don't be offended by the message. No offense was meant.”
Yes, no offense was meant but it sure hurt me and offended me. Hopefully it’s only me who reacted this way, even if as you said, it was not meant for the likes of me.
Friday, July 24, 2009
Ako Ay Pilipino, Part II
Ako ay Pilipino, Part II
Reading the article on the building of the balangay ( http://www.balangay-voyage.com/) and the voyage it plans to trace in the Philippine seas and on to Madagascar, it got me thinking. First of all the romance of it took my breath away, it is so marvelous. It is dazzling, so moving, it stirred pride and joy in my heart, “ Ako ay Pilipino”.
I am happy to observe that this inspirational project is conceived by the Department of Transportation and Communications (DOTC) Undersecretary Art Valdez, the same person who put together the Pinoy Mt. Everest team in May 2006 and May 2007. I’d like to believe that there are many people like him in government who are there to serve rather than to pillage. But then perhaps it is just time, for in every thing there is a season. While our historians are reinterpreting our history from our perspective, our artists and novelists are going back to our roots to find our soul. It was lost a long time ago when the Spanish friars baptized us to save our soul, then we reinvented it under the spell of the American dream.
I am moving with the times, and this recapturing of our roots phenomenon resonates with me. The balangay voyage articulates that quest so elegantly. I fervently wish that it can attract the masses in all their ports of call and successfully convey that our ancestors, long before the Spaniards came, were skilled sailors and navigators and had been crossing the Pacific to Polynesia and to Africa in seaworthy watercrafts, and were as fearless and inventive just like any sailor worth his salt. But without a big movie star or musical artist or sports figure headlining their arrival, this message may just fizzle with the waves lapping the shore.
Francisco Sionil Jose, our National Artist for Literature, and author of the Rosales Saga, a five-novel series that spans three centuries of Philippine history, is translated in 22 languages, but how many know of him or of his books? Until these books are transformed into blockbuster movies for the masses with big star names on the marquee, we are silent to the masses, and they do not hear Sionil Jose’s voice telling the story of how it really was. For 3 centuries, a span of 9 generations, the Filipino suppressed his soul in order to survive colonial rule. Through the centuries his self image was defined by the characteristics assigned by the friars and colonial officials, that he is inferior, childish, incapable of invention or learning, that he is weak, that he is ugly, that his value lies only in serving the master dutifully and completely. He believed this sincerely because defiance was met with severe punishment or death. He is given praise when he served well, ans so he became subservient, compliant, loyal, efficient and dutiful at his task. These earned him rewards and he began to feel good about himself so he concluded that his masters were really good, and he began to wish he could be like them. So he desired to have light colored skin, and blue eyes, he began to look for high noses in his offpsrings, and he imitated their ways and adopted their values. In time he forgot who he was, and as he accumulated rewards, he began to treat others like the way he was treated, for now there were those who has not earned sufficient rewards that were placed under his authority. At this juncture he completely lost his soul.
So I am looking for role models who can show me that it’s beautiful to have brown skin and broad nose. I’d like to see images of early Filipinos looking beautiful in aboriginal fashion, so I can attend cultural events in them instead of the Spanish terno. I’d like to have a broader understanding of the Philippine Muslim conflict. They resisted Spanish colonization. Four centuries ago they were just one of many tribes, just like the northern datus who succumbed and accepted baptism. Catholicism made the rest of the Philippines an alien nation among its Southeast Asian neighbors, and this isolated us, unlike the American and Caribbean colonies. We were also very far away, and precluded migration, so that limited contacts of the natives to mostly officials and the friars. In the Americas, not only Spaniards but other Europeans migrated in droves and they came from various stations in life, and this influenced Spanish policy in administering the colonies. I’d like to understand, given these differences among the colonies, is their journey to nationhood different from us? Must all the colonies go through the fight for independence, a dictatorship phase, and government corruption phase, and employment diaspora phase before developing unity and prosperity and national pride?
I am elated by the balangay voyage and would like to be a witness to the fruition of a dream and maybe I’ll catch them at one of their ports of call or maybe meet them in Madagascar.
Reading the article on the building of the balangay ( http://www.balangay-voyage.com/) and the voyage it plans to trace in the Philippine seas and on to Madagascar, it got me thinking. First of all the romance of it took my breath away, it is so marvelous. It is dazzling, so moving, it stirred pride and joy in my heart, “ Ako ay Pilipino”.
I am happy to observe that this inspirational project is conceived by the Department of Transportation and Communications (DOTC) Undersecretary Art Valdez, the same person who put together the Pinoy Mt. Everest team in May 2006 and May 2007. I’d like to believe that there are many people like him in government who are there to serve rather than to pillage. But then perhaps it is just time, for in every thing there is a season. While our historians are reinterpreting our history from our perspective, our artists and novelists are going back to our roots to find our soul. It was lost a long time ago when the Spanish friars baptized us to save our soul, then we reinvented it under the spell of the American dream.
I am moving with the times, and this recapturing of our roots phenomenon resonates with me. The balangay voyage articulates that quest so elegantly. I fervently wish that it can attract the masses in all their ports of call and successfully convey that our ancestors, long before the Spaniards came, were skilled sailors and navigators and had been crossing the Pacific to Polynesia and to Africa in seaworthy watercrafts, and were as fearless and inventive just like any sailor worth his salt. But without a big movie star or musical artist or sports figure headlining their arrival, this message may just fizzle with the waves lapping the shore.
Francisco Sionil Jose, our National Artist for Literature, and author of the Rosales Saga, a five-novel series that spans three centuries of Philippine history, is translated in 22 languages, but how many know of him or of his books? Until these books are transformed into blockbuster movies for the masses with big star names on the marquee, we are silent to the masses, and they do not hear Sionil Jose’s voice telling the story of how it really was. For 3 centuries, a span of 9 generations, the Filipino suppressed his soul in order to survive colonial rule. Through the centuries his self image was defined by the characteristics assigned by the friars and colonial officials, that he is inferior, childish, incapable of invention or learning, that he is weak, that he is ugly, that his value lies only in serving the master dutifully and completely. He believed this sincerely because defiance was met with severe punishment or death. He is given praise when he served well, ans so he became subservient, compliant, loyal, efficient and dutiful at his task. These earned him rewards and he began to feel good about himself so he concluded that his masters were really good, and he began to wish he could be like them. So he desired to have light colored skin, and blue eyes, he began to look for high noses in his offpsrings, and he imitated their ways and adopted their values. In time he forgot who he was, and as he accumulated rewards, he began to treat others like the way he was treated, for now there were those who has not earned sufficient rewards that were placed under his authority. At this juncture he completely lost his soul.
So I am looking for role models who can show me that it’s beautiful to have brown skin and broad nose. I’d like to see images of early Filipinos looking beautiful in aboriginal fashion, so I can attend cultural events in them instead of the Spanish terno. I’d like to have a broader understanding of the Philippine Muslim conflict. They resisted Spanish colonization. Four centuries ago they were just one of many tribes, just like the northern datus who succumbed and accepted baptism. Catholicism made the rest of the Philippines an alien nation among its Southeast Asian neighbors, and this isolated us, unlike the American and Caribbean colonies. We were also very far away, and precluded migration, so that limited contacts of the natives to mostly officials and the friars. In the Americas, not only Spaniards but other Europeans migrated in droves and they came from various stations in life, and this influenced Spanish policy in administering the colonies. I’d like to understand, given these differences among the colonies, is their journey to nationhood different from us? Must all the colonies go through the fight for independence, a dictatorship phase, and government corruption phase, and employment diaspora phase before developing unity and prosperity and national pride?
I am elated by the balangay voyage and would like to be a witness to the fruition of a dream and maybe I’ll catch them at one of their ports of call or maybe meet them in Madagascar.
Thursday, March 19, 2009
Whither Though Goest?
“Whither Thou Goest?”
“You need to find someone”. I’m increasingly hearing this urgent plea from my friends. Another way it’s put, “ You’ll at least need a companion as you get older”. There is concern in their voices and I’m wondering if I should worry. It’s been 5 years since Johnny died. That is a long time and yet it does not seem like a long time. In the beginning the break up of the minutiae of daily life in the 35 years that we were together created feelings of displacement. But I had my work and my own friends and my own activities and interests that continued uninterrupted and soon took over my daily routine. I’m happy enough, I sleep well at night, I have no responsibility to anybody, I’m financially secure and totally free to do anything I please. So what is missing in my life that my friends are so concerned about?
Perhaps I should address the question, whither thou goest? I was going somewhere with Johnny, but he was called away, so I’m changing travel plans. As we put the trip together, he had his contribution to the itinerary so I have to ask myself now if I want to take the same trip exactly. In a way it is exciting to be given another opportunity to see a different world.
What makes a life full? What makes a meaningful life? I’ve said before that my soul craves for more adventure and passion and thrill than what my own talents, courage and circumstances can provide. I have to come to terms with my own possibilities, and this I hope to resolve by observing how others live.
There are the great lives, the larger than life adventures of being. The lives of talented men and women in pursuit of their art or ideas above all else command spellbinding awe and inspiration. Ferdinand Magellan defying established knowledge by sailing westward to reach the Spice Islands in the east thereby becoming the first to circumnavigate the world, did not live to enjoy the rewards of his efforts. He was killed by Rajah Lapu-lapu in the battle of Mactan, in the Philippines, but he saw he succeeded in proving his theory. Marie Curie died of leukemia, a consequence of her pioneering work in the discovery of radium. She was gifted in math and science but was barred from pursuing her goals in medicine because of her gender but she refused to give up and found other ways, and succeeded and was rewarded with 2 Nobel prizes.Gandhi and Martin Luther King went against the tide of prevailing attitudes for securing political power and effecting change, that of tearing an eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth, by espousing non-violence. Both lost their lives in the hands of assassins, but their ideas prevailed in civil rights and freedom movements throughout the world. Beethoven worked on the Diabelli Variations for 4 years, refused to publish it until he was satisfied that he has gotten all the music out of it, and endured poverty and failing health until he completed 33 variations, a composition that had been described as unparallelled in its imagination, power and subtlety. Amandine Aurore Lucile Dupin, Baroness Dudevant, rebelled against her confined and prescribed life as an aristocratic woman in 19th century France. She left her much older husband and under the pseudonym George Sand wrote successful novels which supported her and her children. She advocated equality with men in the conduct of personal affairs, and achieved notoriety with her liaisons with famous artists, among them Chopin, Alfred de Musset and Gustave Flaubert. She smoked in public and wore men’s clothes because they were more comfortable than the restrictive corset and layers of petticoats worn by the era’s fashionable women. The English novelist Mary Ann Evans wrote also under the psedonym George Eliot so her work, which was not the usual romance novels accepted from women, will be taken seriously. Her novels Adam Bede, Silas Marner. Mill on the Floss, Middlemarch, Daniel Deronda, etc, were huge commercial successes. In her personal affairs, like Dudevant, she defied the behavior codes prescribed for women. She was open about her affair with a married man, and later after his death, she married a man 20 years her junior. Both were shunned by the establishment but they prevailed.
These great lives are distinguished by clarity of vision, freedom, boldness in the pursuit of goals and unswerving focus in spite of seemingly insurmountable barrriers, including death. It is not an easy life, it is not a safe life, it is a life lived. It brings to mind a cliche, “It’s Not How Long You Live, Rather How Well You Live”.
How well does one live? Can ordinary people with ordinary talents aspire to lead a life of consequence? A child learning to walk falls repeatedly, but he senses the thrill of walking and the potential in his legs, so he becomes bold and single-minded in his purpose and ignores the falling, gets up and try again until he gets it right, yes! And don’t we all remember the joy, the exhilaration of being! Great lives are awesome, they touch us and they inspire us, but this child’s joy at mastering walking affects us just the same.
I observe around me and I see great lives being lived all the time. A friend loves her work, proud that she is competent in what she does and finds creative expression in individualizing her services to each client. Another confronted her fear and traveled alone as a challenge to her courage. Another quit a comfortable and well-paying job, to pursue her dream of owning her own restaurant. Another defied unwritten rules in Philippine high society about looking the other way of a prominent husband’s casual liaisons. She petitioned for annulment of her marriage and did not regret giving up her glittering hostess role.
From these observations, it’s clear to me that “must have someone”, and needing a companion has nothing to do with having a life well lived at all. Life is one’s own, and relationships must enrich and enliven that life. Living life well is not for settling, or for being safe. I’m surrounded by family and friends who let me be, they appreciate my talents, they live their own lives and share them with me, they inspire me and they care about me, and I care about them, I have freedom, I am excited to see what everyday brings, to meet someone new, to see how one is similar or different from me, how they can share new experiences with me, and I with them, to see a big world. I have charted my voyage, life calls. What I’m missing is what I’ve lost. Being with Johnny made me understand what Elizabeth Barrett Browning’s Sonnets from the Portuguese was all about. I will open myself to the possibility, and my friends will help, but he will not be a companion.
“You need to find someone”. I’m increasingly hearing this urgent plea from my friends. Another way it’s put, “ You’ll at least need a companion as you get older”. There is concern in their voices and I’m wondering if I should worry. It’s been 5 years since Johnny died. That is a long time and yet it does not seem like a long time. In the beginning the break up of the minutiae of daily life in the 35 years that we were together created feelings of displacement. But I had my work and my own friends and my own activities and interests that continued uninterrupted and soon took over my daily routine. I’m happy enough, I sleep well at night, I have no responsibility to anybody, I’m financially secure and totally free to do anything I please. So what is missing in my life that my friends are so concerned about?
Perhaps I should address the question, whither thou goest? I was going somewhere with Johnny, but he was called away, so I’m changing travel plans. As we put the trip together, he had his contribution to the itinerary so I have to ask myself now if I want to take the same trip exactly. In a way it is exciting to be given another opportunity to see a different world.
What makes a life full? What makes a meaningful life? I’ve said before that my soul craves for more adventure and passion and thrill than what my own talents, courage and circumstances can provide. I have to come to terms with my own possibilities, and this I hope to resolve by observing how others live.
There are the great lives, the larger than life adventures of being. The lives of talented men and women in pursuit of their art or ideas above all else command spellbinding awe and inspiration. Ferdinand Magellan defying established knowledge by sailing westward to reach the Spice Islands in the east thereby becoming the first to circumnavigate the world, did not live to enjoy the rewards of his efforts. He was killed by Rajah Lapu-lapu in the battle of Mactan, in the Philippines, but he saw he succeeded in proving his theory. Marie Curie died of leukemia, a consequence of her pioneering work in the discovery of radium. She was gifted in math and science but was barred from pursuing her goals in medicine because of her gender but she refused to give up and found other ways, and succeeded and was rewarded with 2 Nobel prizes.Gandhi and Martin Luther King went against the tide of prevailing attitudes for securing political power and effecting change, that of tearing an eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth, by espousing non-violence. Both lost their lives in the hands of assassins, but their ideas prevailed in civil rights and freedom movements throughout the world. Beethoven worked on the Diabelli Variations for 4 years, refused to publish it until he was satisfied that he has gotten all the music out of it, and endured poverty and failing health until he completed 33 variations, a composition that had been described as unparallelled in its imagination, power and subtlety. Amandine Aurore Lucile Dupin, Baroness Dudevant, rebelled against her confined and prescribed life as an aristocratic woman in 19th century France. She left her much older husband and under the pseudonym George Sand wrote successful novels which supported her and her children. She advocated equality with men in the conduct of personal affairs, and achieved notoriety with her liaisons with famous artists, among them Chopin, Alfred de Musset and Gustave Flaubert. She smoked in public and wore men’s clothes because they were more comfortable than the restrictive corset and layers of petticoats worn by the era’s fashionable women. The English novelist Mary Ann Evans wrote also under the psedonym George Eliot so her work, which was not the usual romance novels accepted from women, will be taken seriously. Her novels Adam Bede, Silas Marner. Mill on the Floss, Middlemarch, Daniel Deronda, etc, were huge commercial successes. In her personal affairs, like Dudevant, she defied the behavior codes prescribed for women. She was open about her affair with a married man, and later after his death, she married a man 20 years her junior. Both were shunned by the establishment but they prevailed.
These great lives are distinguished by clarity of vision, freedom, boldness in the pursuit of goals and unswerving focus in spite of seemingly insurmountable barrriers, including death. It is not an easy life, it is not a safe life, it is a life lived. It brings to mind a cliche, “It’s Not How Long You Live, Rather How Well You Live”.
How well does one live? Can ordinary people with ordinary talents aspire to lead a life of consequence? A child learning to walk falls repeatedly, but he senses the thrill of walking and the potential in his legs, so he becomes bold and single-minded in his purpose and ignores the falling, gets up and try again until he gets it right, yes! And don’t we all remember the joy, the exhilaration of being! Great lives are awesome, they touch us and they inspire us, but this child’s joy at mastering walking affects us just the same.
I observe around me and I see great lives being lived all the time. A friend loves her work, proud that she is competent in what she does and finds creative expression in individualizing her services to each client. Another confronted her fear and traveled alone as a challenge to her courage. Another quit a comfortable and well-paying job, to pursue her dream of owning her own restaurant. Another defied unwritten rules in Philippine high society about looking the other way of a prominent husband’s casual liaisons. She petitioned for annulment of her marriage and did not regret giving up her glittering hostess role.
From these observations, it’s clear to me that “must have someone”, and needing a companion has nothing to do with having a life well lived at all. Life is one’s own, and relationships must enrich and enliven that life. Living life well is not for settling, or for being safe. I’m surrounded by family and friends who let me be, they appreciate my talents, they live their own lives and share them with me, they inspire me and they care about me, and I care about them, I have freedom, I am excited to see what everyday brings, to meet someone new, to see how one is similar or different from me, how they can share new experiences with me, and I with them, to see a big world. I have charted my voyage, life calls. What I’m missing is what I’ve lost. Being with Johnny made me understand what Elizabeth Barrett Browning’s Sonnets from the Portuguese was all about. I will open myself to the possibility, and my friends will help, but he will not be a companion.
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