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.
Friday, July 24, 2009
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.
Friday, January 23, 2009
Costa Blanca/Italy Notes
Costa Blanca September 4-October 28,2008
We have a misadventure with Kathy and Susan´s arrival, but that didn´t faze us. We still mangaed to get entertaining cocktail vignettes from it and we couldn´t wait to tell you all about it and over and over again and get full mileage out of the tale. What happened was I´m already on retirement mode and had time disorientation, which LInda C. already noted even before I left. I goofed on the date, thinking they were arriving the next day! The juicy details you have to wait.
So to avoid mishaps call my cell or email my yahoo adress and gmail address (always) or text. I don´t have myrna´s parties exact time arrival and date, and susan and niti´s. So please email them now, If you cant reach me call Joanna the villa manager,0034965050292 or Steve 0034620763184
Pauline and the girls. The bus trip to Denia takes about 3 hours and it stops in all the little towns. Mike took it from Alicant, the plus is you get to see all the towns and begin to enjoy the area. I recommend it but give yourselves plenty of time. Text your exact arrival in Denia.
The first wave has departed, the Jirasakhirans, and it´s such a small world, Evelyn with her photographic memory remembered Susan Kessler from 30 years ago when they were very young thangs and working together in nursing. Needless to say Evelyn will tell you all about our adventures.
I´m getting to be an expert negotiating the hairpin turns up and down to the villa in Monte Pego.
Mary the GPS device you gave me is a whiz, with just a few glitches. Some times it tells me to turn right into a ravine. We named the bitch Petra.
The girls Susan and Kathy are recuperating and sleeping late but we plan to go to Pego today, its market day and we´d like to sample their local breads and arroz. Also we´ll stop by the supermercado and stock up on wines and nibbles.
We´re loving it!
Hello,
we went to benidorm for the flea market yesterday, a big one and with lots of english antiques and stuff since the town is mostly populated by them, i got a sterling necklace of a flying unicorn and a 1920 brooch with mink and pearls, very chic. then w e went to guadalest to get to the castle and view the amazing valley and mountains and river encircling the fortress like a moat, with the water color like jade. ate lunch there, and celebrated susan k birthday and she got an enormous red lollipop to lick for a year until her next b-day. petra took us around the scenic route going back to the villa, she´s really getting to know us and is a real nice friend now to do this. we went up and down 2 mountains and the nearly full moon appeared over the mountains and the disappearing sun leaving reflections of purple and oranges and reds in the back drop. it was so heavenly we were moved to sing songs with moon themes, which i started off with my made up lyrics but the gang found me out, and the song turned out to be harbor lights. but we sang moon river with complete lyrics, how about that. we´ve slept in today, the girls are out in the pool while i do this and the internet in the resort´s service center. this afternoon we go to the beach in denia and shopping then get fresh fish from the market and grill them at delia´s villa and watch the sunset there. she got her 2 villas precisely for its orientation to the sunrise, where we are staying and the other, to the sunset. cool.
pauline and the girls, the other alternative from valencia to monte pego is to take the train from valencia nord train station, check how the metro connects here from the airport, or if you´re on the train already from barcelona, you´d be in the station, so transfer to the train to GANDIA and get off XEROCA, 45 MIN TRIP, THEN I CAN PICK YOU UP AT XEROCA, train leaves every 30 minutes, text me your time arrival in Xeroca or DENIA if by bus, for pick up, give me the date too, i´m not following the dates here accurately.
I still do not have arrival time for Marites party, i only have the day sept 28, but you´ll have a car so you can come on your own. Drive to Monte pego main entrance to the restaurant and i´ll meet you there to get to the villa.
I do not have arrival details for Niti and Susan, just the date on sept 17 and I don´t know how, what time and where they are arriving.evelyn can you kulit them.
email both my gmail and yahoo address if you cannot call me on my cell or text me.
GREAT Anicia and Diane have arive but not with their luggage and its still not in today.
On 9/12/08, Jirasakhiran, Evelyn wrote:
Miman,
Got back this afternoon safely in ATL. We decided to spend another night at Hotel Europa as it would have been too long to wait at the airport. We got lucky again to be in business class. Thanks for the great adventure….. the picture are already in a brag book. We went directly to Costco to have them developed. We got lost in Alicante and took another hour just to find the place. We kept on asking people and they keep telling us how to get to the train station with no success. Finally, we asked a gentleman who was driving a Mercedes at the stop light, and can you believe he let us follow him all the way to the station? He would have been your age and good looking too. People are so nice there. Thanks for the great adventures!!!Evelyn
le costa blanca adventureres,
niti and susan arrived last night, they decided to rent a car from alicante, but theri gps didn´t work here, but niti found monte pego entrance and they were just in time to have dinner with all of us. we went to seville 2 days ago and it was hard getting a taxi because madonna, the like a virgin one, was performing at their olympic stadium, 40,000 sevillans went to see the material girl. my 4 madonnas, anicia,susan k.,diane, and kathy just left today on the train from xeroca to valencia, where they will put their luggage in the train station storage and tour the city and shop before their paris flight at 4.30 PM. They are very excited for susan k. who will be celebrating her b-day in paris. we were going to see the alhambra when we detoured to granada on the way home from seville but admission was closed, too many vuisitors for the day, but we enjoyed plaza nueva and petra took us to all the nooks and alleys of the the old city while attempting to take us to the alhambra, when we discovered cars are not allowed to go up that way, but instead must access from the highway. we always learn and learning this way is always an adventure.
we played la sella golf club yesterday, me susan and anicia, a jose maria olazabal course, and walked 18 holes, we felt great, i had a 47 on the front but collapsed in the back with a 53, still a good round for me.
marites, myrna and eqabelleras, driving from valencia, you exit on 63 oliva-pego exit, then go through the town of oliva, look for the small sign to pego on right , then after you get out of the town, look for the very small sign to pego on you left, once you´re on this road, just follow the road stright ahead to bella vista go up the mountain and on top turn left where there is a big sign board of the development, to the end of the road where the bella vista restaurant is, turn right there and follow the road as it curves right and just go stright until it ends to villa delchel. text me of exact arrival.
we´ve hooked up with my friend who owns the villa and she invited us for dinner at her new villa here, fabulous and breathtaking, i regretted not renting it instead when she suggested it. but hey don´t get me wrong the villa we´re in is no slum shack at all, you´ll love it.
i´m letting niti and susan sleep in to recuperate,maybe take a brief dip in the pool, then we´ll drive to one of the beaches, denia or javea nad stroll and looksee and have dinner there.
can´t wait for the rest to get here,
metty
Dear Del,
I tried to call you but the answering machine came on again, but I figured you were in flight already.I regret we were not able to say goodbye properly, you know we would have loved to join you. The good news is that my friends who were coming from Alicante that evening made it and we had dinner together at the Swedish restaurant. Thank you for showing us your beloved part of the coast and we loved meeting Remy and Rosemary. I will see you soon in Baltimore at Mikey´s wedding.
Yesterday and today I am alone for the first time so I decided to check out the fiesta in Vall DÉbo, but I probably have the wrong date or the fiesta is not starting until the evening. Teens were transporting chairs probably for the supposed free supper. Anyway it was a lovely little village, of 700 inhabitants according to the brochure, no Englishman there, and no one spoke English, the drive was knuckle-whitening serpentine roads, more steep and formidable than the return trip from Guadalest, but the landscape was breathtaking. Viewed the stalactites and stalagmites of Cova del Rull, and checked the nearby hamlets, a nice drive. Arriving home on top towards the villa I decided to take a different road to see the villas, missed my turn and decided to back up, but I´ve gotten used to having lookouts guiding me, so I hit the stone wall, dented Picasso´s tail badly and scraped the tires it tore. So I had a flat and it took me until 4 PM today to get a replacemnet car. I was marooned in the villa, so I had time to do my nails, read and a mistake, watch CNN and hear about the bad news all over the world. Who needs those. And thank goodness the girls left plenty of wine and leftovers, so I was content. I have a new silver Picasso to drive and I´ll have new lookouts arriving tomorrow, so I´ll be good driving again.
Thanks so much, I got your note about paying my bill for Joanna´s services, Thanks so much, I owe you much already you have to come to Atlanta and be my guest for a change.
Love,
Metty
i Metty,
I'm tickled you went to Val De'Vu and went to Cova de Rull. That opened only in the last 6 years and there are larger caves which have not opened yet. One of the painters who spent two weeks with me there painted that village. I am trying to haggle for that painting til now.
So sorry to hear about your car. Well, that was your baptism. Now you know to be more on the look out. At one time our car had the two rear tires hanging off a shallow cliff! We promply jumped out of course.Anyway, I'm glad you are enjoying a brand new car. I am very careful driving around there since there are so many unexpected structures. If you have time, look at your guide and go climb an old catle. Cullera has a fantastic one. Xativa has interesting museums and old castles as well. someone with at adventure in her heart like you and me will never tire of investigating al the surprises just around the corner there. I told my friend Aldona about you. I will email you her phone number. She is the one who knows all about Costa Blanca and Spain as a matter of fact. You will love her. she was withus that night we missed each other. Try to find authentic Spanish restaurants if you can. The one we were in that night was one. There is a BandB Restaurant who specializes in Rosemary stuffed chicken just along 332 past that circle to Pego. Just go like you were going north to Oliva, it is a new one and the meal is only 6.76 Euros. It is on the right next to that new sort of convenience or gas station. I'm not to sure but I know you will have no problm finding it.
I am still jet lagging. Please tell Susan to email me we need to hook up on some business deals.
I am so sorry too that we never had our time together, but there will be more times in the future now that you are retired.
So long for now.
Love,
Del
HI!
I´m waiting to hear from Pauline, about their arrival time. Today for the first time it´s overcast and raining intermittently, a little cool, but still very nice. I decided against golf at the Javea golf club, and will wait for the usual sunny day. The car rental people sent me another Picasso, a silver one, to replace the black Picasso I battered and bruised so badly and busted the rear tire. These are just little teeny confrontations with the stone walls around the villas in Monte Pego while getting out of the driveway and backing up. I need my lookouts and navigation guides to do this maneuvers without mishaps, and to think that I managed the tight alleys of the little towns I checked out last Sunday, I can´t believe this happened.
Glad to hear the Paris girls made it to the Lido.
Metty
n Fri, Sep 19, 2008 at 5:35 AM, Fiameta Pellicer wrote:
we´ve talked to you since, and the hotel was fine, clean and with large rooms, we enjoyed seville and had the most wonderful dinner there, next to the flamenco theater, the restaurant albahaca, i had sauteed goose liver in vinegar and honey sauce that just melts in your mouth. the four madonnas left today for paris, i just dropped them off at the xeraco train station for the 45 min trip to valencia, where they´ll do touring and shopping before their paris flight at 4.30 PM
THANKS
metty
lad you're having fun in spite of mishaps! The market and all the turmoil here has been keeping me busy. Had a great time at the Zone shoot in Georgetown SC in spite of rain the first day and 500% humidity the next.
Went to an indoor pistol range last sat and shot a .45! Recoil is incredible. Did extremely well, and even hit the bull's eye (which is really a little x representing the chest).
My mother is awaiting a biopsy from a growth on her hand. Dr. told her to prepare herself because it was either going to be really bad, or worse than really bad. Of course we were all upset. Called my dr on Mon and his office said any surgery wouldn't be any more invasive than the biopsy, so that was reassuring and we have all calmed down.
"Coach" and I have settled into a comfortable relationship. We pretty much act like an old married couple with our routine. May not be romantic but it fits like an old shoe, so I'm ok since I'm getting the support I need and there's a sense of reliability.
Enjoy reading your posts, and wish I were there. Be careful, the stone gates are even harder than your head, so give them lots of respect.
well, how does one become an old married couple without going through the hot times first,que es la vida, I in Valencia with the Apanays and Abelleras, and tomorrow after parting with
them Iĺl be travelling solo , which will be nice for a change. Enjoyed all the company s and they made nmy retirement vacation fun and dear but solitude is very relaxing too. Will take the train to Barcelona, and stay aa couple of days before boarding the ferry to Genoa then to anywhere in Italy on my way to Ischia. Itś too bad I will miss the vice pres debate, Palin makes big fish in a small pond the criteria for exeptional in america now. I think I will immigrate to Spain.
Wish you were here hope your mom is doing well.
Metty
Pauline and 5 grls off 2 alcante ovrnite plyd glf clb javea shot 46 for 9 holes had 6 shrieking glrs here whew
I stumbled on the Pinoy section of Barcelona, and hung out in one of the Pinoy restaurants, Myramar one on Valldecella near Plz Catalunya, there´s a second Myramar in the Parallel, and another Pinoy resto on Compte Borrel, Pasa Pasa. The whole street is full of Pinoys. The owner of Myramar is from Mindoro, the Malapitans, then there´s someone visiting from Milan, from Alaminos Laguna, they are working as waiters and hotel employees, one works in a car dealership, a couple both work as maid and houseman for a family. Many are also tago tago, one was going home because he cluodn´t find a job, still all of them say it´s better for them, salary average 13-15,000 euros annually. They have karoake establishment and next door grocery is Filipino owned, I said I regretted not meeting them earlier because I would have played mahjong with them,there´s about 30,000 Pinoys in Barcelona. So next time you´re in BCN, look these guys up for mahjong.
I´m, waiting to embark my ship for the overnight trip to Genoa, as I was booking my hotel, they were very expensive, Genoa is the Italian riviera. So I get to check out how it compares with Nice or Cannes, Biarritz, Bayonne, and of course Costa Blanca and Costa del Sol.
I was going to Montserrat, thought I´d check it out like yáll said, but I got up late, and missed the tour at 8:30 am but it wouldn´t have worked anyway since they return late for me to make my ship boarding. I was going to take the hour long train and do it on my own, but >I wasn´t very motivated, so I decided to check their contemporary art museum, like our NYC MoMA, their building is by Richard Meier is supersleek and the collection inside is very wierd.
Got on the Line 2 metro and visited Rizal´s monument on Avenida de las Filipinas. It´s in the corner of a new recreation park next to the Isabel II water reservoir, northeast of Madrid. Very nice park used by Madrilenos just inaugurated last year, with golf driving range and practice greens, soccer fields, fountains, resilient surfaced jogging paths, rose gardens, fountains checker tables and chairs under trees, fitness yards, playgrounds, and a nice restaurant. It was placed there during the centennial of Phil Independence, 1998, under Fidel Ramos auspices. I don´t know how many locals wonder who he is, they use the steps to stretch before running. I think we should see with the embassy about marketing a walking tour of Rizal´s Madrid.
I´m arriving at 2:30 PM tomorrow, see yáll soon
Well, we spent Saturday night celebrating my mom's birthday and planning our pumkin carving tactics.
Dr. José P. Rizal (full name: José Protasio Rizal Mercado y Alonso Realonda) (June 19, 1861 – December 30, 1896) was a Filipino polymath, nationalist and the most prominent advocate for reforms in the Philippines during the Spanish colonial era. He is considered the Philippines' national hero and the anniversary of Rizal's death is commemorated as a Philippine holiday called Rizal Day.
From: Fiameta Pellicer [mailto:mimanmetty@yahoo.com]
Sent: Sat 10/25/2008 6:12 PM
To: anicia biglow; ely abellera; manolo apanay; jjwilliam@tsys.com; Kathy Gansserite; Doobs; bonnie vargas; Anneteele Vargas; M Vargas; rmsdgs@aol.com;; marites pellicer; myrna valles; noycee@hotmail.com; Connelly, Linda S
Cc: Mary Pitts; Erin Bittner; Jessica Wong; Cecile Bregman
Subject: Madrid
I checked Toledo, and I ´ve had it with medieval cities. I´m crossing off Segovia and instead booked a salon appointment for hair and nails. I checked out addresses in Madrid on Barquillo Street and Cava San Miguel. There isn´t any plaque there about his stay. I´´ll see what can be done about it when I get back. I had dinner in the San Miguel address No. 7 which is now a very funky bodega style restaurant, the whole street is very bohemian and the restaurants there all have live music. It´s not too far from Puerta del Sol. I took the metro back as I´ve walked too far and it was packed like sardines at 11:50 pm. Everybody in Madrid is just getting ready for the all night Saturday partying. I love Madrid.
Metty
From: Norma C. Panahon
Subject: RE: Pueblo Ingles
To: mimanmetty@yahoo.com
Date: Sunday, October 19, 2008, 3:21 PM
Metty: So happy to hear about all your adventures and explorations...envious of your decisiveness to go and explore the corners of this world and just enjoy the culture, the richness and abundance in other parts of the earth- and have the privilege to bond with so many creatures. I really have to work on letting go of the chains tied around my hands and neck ,that I have allowed to prevent my mobility.I hope someday I can join you in one of your tripss. I enjoy your vivid descriptions of all those places and day to day scenarios. Keep it up, my friend! You deserve every minute of your soiree!! luv yah...Noy
Date: Sun, 19 Oct 2008 01:29:50 -0700
From: mimanmetty@yahoo.com
Subject: RE: Pueblo Ingles
To: abiglow@earthlink.net; eqabellera@bellsouth.net; mbapanay@yahoo.com; jjwilliam@tsys.com; silverkathy@bellsouth.net; spellicer@gmail.com; kiridit@yahoo.com; hvargas@worldbank.org; minda501v@yahoo.com; rmsdgs@aol.com; susan_namgeanfar@emoryhealthcare.org; tesmari@charter.net; myrna1274@comcast.net; noycee@hotmail.com; Linda.S.Connelly@hud.gov
CC: Mary.Pitts@raymondjames.com; erin.bittner@gmail.com; jska7783@gmail.com; cecilemd@hotmail.com
Indeed the village is very charming we walked there during siesta as that was the only part of the schedule we have enough time to walk there and back. I got to tell my jokes but only the clean ones as this group so far appears to be a little uptight, and my stand up comic routine went over very well with the Anglos, and I did not forget my punch lines, and I paced the punch line well, but many of the spniards didn´t get the double meanings as >I found out during meal conversation later, but they got the one about the patient who thinks he´s a dog, and started to think that that way since he was a puppy, so they had a good laugh. Well, I found out the party animals last night at the bar, and we had a great time, dancing and ended up shooting tequilas, so maybe it is going to be quite fun after all.
Metty
--- On Sun, 10/19/08, Connelly, Linda S wrote:
From: Connelly, Linda S
Subject: RE: Pueblo Ingles
To: mimanmetty@yahoo.com, "anicia biglow", "ely abellera" , "manolo apanay" , jjwilliam@tsys.com, "Kathy Gansserite" , "Doobs" , "bonnie vargas" , "Anneteele Vargas" , "M Vargas" , rmsdgs@aol.com, "" , "marites pellicer" , "myrna valles" , noycee@hotmail.com
Cc: "Mary Pitts", "Erin Bittner" , "Jessica Wong" , "Cecile Bregman"
Date: Sunday, October 19, 2008, 3:35 AM
And now your final round of your trip arrived! The area sounds beautiful. Best wishes on your week. From what I read, it is intense, purposeful and rewarding with limited access to the outside world. Hopefully, you'll be able to send a few more e-mails. Best wishes with your experience. Wasn't it just yesterday when you were practicing your jokes...."I can see clearly .... your ...
Alberca, formerly known as Valdelaguna, is located in the Southern part of the province of Salamanca. This village is 1084 metres above sea level on the Northern slopes of 'la Sierra de Francia'(the French mountain range'). Its unusual houses and streets have put it on the toursist map for visitors to the province of Salamanca. With the Cabras Pintas prehistoric caves on the edge of Alberca, it is thought that this village was repopulated during the times of Alfonso VI by the French. In fact some of its place names like 'la Sierra de Francia' and 'el rio Frances' (the French river) refer to these origins. One of Alberca's greatest assets is the diversity of the wonderful scenery that surrounds it. On one side you can see granite, slate and quartzite which support the varied wild vegetation and forests of oaks, chestnut trees, pine trees, walnut trees, apple trees and almond groves. Like many other villages in Spain, Alberca's population is declining. Over half a century ago it had 1700 inhabitants but now this figure hardly reaches a 1000. However, the village is still well maintained and despite harsh winters and very hot summers tourism plays an important part in its economy. Its narrow cobbled streets, small squares and curious houses make this a beautiful place to visit.
From: Fiameta Pellicer [mailto:mimanmetty@yahoo.com]
Sent: Sat 10/18/2008 6:47 AM
To: anicia biglow; ely abellera; manolo apanay; jjwilliam@tsys.com; Kathy Gansserite; Doobs; bonnie vargas; Anneteele Vargas; M Vargas; rmsdgs@aol.com; Connelly, Linda S;; marites pellicer; myrna valles; noycee@hotmail.com
Cc: Mary Pitts; Erin Bittner; Jessica Wong; Cecile Bregman
Subject: Pueblo Ingles
Hola!
I´m back in spain, and finally was able to get into the Reina Sophia to view Picasso´s Guernica which Metty
Hola!
We´re winding down here, Friday we drive back to Madrid then I linger until the 28th and I should be seeing yáll in no time at all. I´m ready to go home. I´m getting a lot from the jokes I can remember to tell correctly, and Ray just sent me a bar blonde joke which I certainly can find the right occasion to tell tonight. The one about sometimes the bull wins too has gotten many laughs here, and finally I got the right moment to tell the second opinion joke, about the surgeons wife and some of Evelyn´s jokes . Tonight we´re rehearshing a comedy routine to present during pre0dinner entertainment. We´re drinking a lot of wine for lunch and dinner, I definitely will need to starve myself when I get home
Metty
Prego,
I'm so exhausted today. I didn.t do my homework and just took the suburban train to go see Vesuvius. I had to take the Metro then connct with the suburban train, then take the shuttle bus to Vesuvius. That was the easy part, I wasn't prepared to hike up the volcano crater for 40 minutes, I am so out of shape this past 6 weeks, eating pasta and all, so I was huffing and puffing. Then I get on the trian agian to go see Pompeii, didn't realize this excavation is so immense and midn boggling. It is an entire city, so awesome. I had a hard time getting out of there I got lost in the maze of streets and alleys. Of note, the whorehouse, with frescoes of all the differecnt ways you can copulate, too bad I didn't know how to set my camera without flash, so I wasn't able to take pictures. Then there was this painting of Priapus, the god of fertility, he's the one we derived priapism from, he's there with his big member laid out on a plate. these early Romans really knwo how to live. You should see how their houses were laid out. and the baths, such a ritual with cold dips, tepid dips and hot dips, none of these quick utilitarian showers, also with all unguents, and liniments and fragrances to go with it. Bathing can take up half a day. What a life! Then since the end of the line is to Sorrento, I decided to take the train to the end. Sorrento is charming and of course has an emotional tug with the familiar songs Come back to Sorrento, O Sole Mio, so it had me even before I can say Prego. The train trip back to the hortel was over one hour, what with changes and all, so I had a late dinner at the hotel before they closed the kitchen at 10:30. I need the hot springs of Ischia after today, and I have to be up early tomorrow to fly to Madrid and I think I'll stay up for the debates, which is 2 am here.
Ta Ta
Miss y'all already
Metty
Prego Y'all,
I'm now in Napoli, left Ischia this afternoon and will do Vesuvius and Pompeii tomorrow, then fly to Madrid to join my Pueblo Ingles co-volunteers for a get to know you lunch on Thursday then take a 2 hour bus to Alberca on Friday and join our spanish counterparts. After 2 weeks of not speaking the language I'm dying for conversation and telling anybody who cares to listne or don't have the guts to interrupt me about what I think of what's going on anywhere and about anything. Well, after seeing the highlights of the city I'm having 2nd thoughts about Naples. True, there's so many hustlers, and you have to be alert, and the city is littered in many palces, and graffiti is everywhere, but it is vibrant and bustling and bold and macho, it is so alive, jsut liek New York. It is also culturally diverse with Senegalese, Ukrainians and Polish taking up the unskilled workforce. It feels familiar like Manila, with macho men, and superficial glitz, and bambinas sexed to the hilt. Billboards and TV announcer sidekicks of middle aged men with paunchy middles are Bimbo types with low necklines and silicon boobs and tight or short short skirts and 6-inch platform heels, and dark eyeliners and red lips. I miss seeign Penelope Cruz on billboards as we saw in Spain. Billboards here feature lingerie ads. In Ischia the social evnets there are fashion shows , and yeah lingerie shows.Naples is in the process of cleaning itlself up, there's public works all over the place and buildings in scaffolds undergoing reinvigorating transformations.This region with Sorrento and Capri withh hves so much connection with the US I'm wondering why there are so few American tourists here. A city with the sea at its doorstep will always have captivating charm for me.Metty
Dear Jessica,
Thanks so much for your endorsement of my activities, and certainly I enjoyed your company and all your friends. Being with adventurous and independent young people makes me feel excited and young. In many ways I still feel like a 25 year old but with advantages, like having a platinum AMEX and all the confidnece 66 years of living have accumulated. I feel I'm living the best years of my life. I just left Ischia this afternoon and now am in Naples. Will go see Vesuvius and Pompeii tomorrow, then fly back to Madrid to do my Pueblo Ingles volunteer work. I'm so looking forward to this segment of my 2-month long trip, and after traveling solo for 2 weeks and not speaking the language, I'm now hungering for conversation and lively repartee. I'll be back in Atlanta october 28, and yeah, let's have a reunion on my return and look at all our photos.
Tita Metty
--- On Sun, 10/12/08, Jessica Wong wrote:
From: Jessica Wong
Subject: Hola Tita Metty!
To: mimanmetty@yahoo.com
Date: Sunday, October 12, 2008, 8:53 PM
Hi Tita Metty!
I just wanted to thank you so much for having us girls come stay at your place in Monte Pego. I had the best time there, and it really opened my eyes to respect the culture Spain has to offer. I loved the scenery, especially on the train rides. I really appreciate you taking us back and forth to the train stations to the villa. I know it was a lot of running around for you, but hopefully you got some good rounds of golf in! I enjoyed the yummy dinners in, along with going out on the town, and even at Bella Vista restaurant. I'm very grateful to be able to experience all of this. I truly think you are an inspiration, and I would love to become a world traveler just like you!
I have been enjoying your emails about your journey through Milan and such. Pauline has been sharing your stories. I bet you are having a blast seeing all the different sides of Europe. Maybe when you get back to Atlanta, all of us girls can take you out to a nice Spanish/Tapas dinner so we can revisit our trip with our imagination! Again, thank you for letting me partake in the wonderful sights, sounds, and smells of Spain. (Not including the smelly europeans on the train with bad body odor! haha!)
I hope you have a safe trip back to the states! Enjoy smoking all your cuban cigars while you're still there!
Miss you!
Jessica
HI,
I took a bus around the island, covering the coast and the interior to the highest point, It took about 3 hours and 2 1.20 Euro tickets good for 90 minutes ride each. Great tour, tourists are mainly Germans here, they even have a German TV channel, otherwise the condo TV is all Italian, their announcers are all middle eaged paunchy men with over made up Barbie sidekicks wwith big boobs. The average young mature Women are made up heavily and not elegantly dressed, favors shiny and loud stuff, abd emphasi
The roads here are so tight, buses have to stop every time there,s an appraoaching car. A dog jumped off an oncoming triscooter and our bus hit the poor thing and looked like a leg was broken and hip dislocated, we were all upset.
Italian news is following up US elections.
I,LL stay put tomorrow by the pool, then to Naples on Tuesday and Wednesday, then take a flight to Madrid Thursday.
Ta Ta, Missing y,all already.
Metty
--- On Sat, 10/11/08, Connelly, Linda S wrote:
Date: Saturday, October 11, 2008, 10:20 PM
Hi,
We...I finally located Ischia thanks to adding the Poseidon Beach and Spa to my google search.
"Ischia is located in the Campania region, about an hour by ferry from Naples. It is called the green island because in contrast to rocky Capri, Ischia is covered with vegetation. There are thermal locations all over the island. The ground water is heated, there are thermal sands, and even the seawater in some areas is heated by volcanic action. Almost all the hotels (and there are many) have pools that are heated and unheated. Poseidon Gardens and Negombo are places you can go to spend the day in the lovely pools and also in the sea, because both have lovely beaches in addition to the pools."
I'm enjoying your adventures!
From: Fiameta Pellicer [mailto:mimanmetty@yahoo.com]
Subject: Napoli and Ischia
Had a pampering at the Poseidon Beach and Spa here, weather gorgeous, however not much to do, the villa is again on top of the hill, with spectacular views but a hassle to get anywhere, though there is a little town 10 minute walk away with restaurant and mercado. Naples look seedy and there are too many hustlers, but I.m leaving Ischia on Tuesday and do Naples but will book a more expensive hotel in the elegant part of town to avoid most of the seediness. Maybe check out Capri and Sorrento just to look see. The thermal springs here is fabulous. The best way to enjoy the place is to moor your sailboat or yacht on the harbor and loll around, go offshore to visit the bars and restaurants and have plenty of company for a party.
We have a misadventure with Kathy and Susan´s arrival, but that didn´t faze us. We still mangaed to get entertaining cocktail vignettes from it and we couldn´t wait to tell you all about it and over and over again and get full mileage out of the tale. What happened was I´m already on retirement mode and had time disorientation, which LInda C. already noted even before I left. I goofed on the date, thinking they were arriving the next day! The juicy details you have to wait.
So to avoid mishaps call my cell or email my yahoo adress and gmail address (always) or text. I don´t have myrna´s parties exact time arrival and date, and susan and niti´s. So please email them now, If you cant reach me call Joanna the villa manager,0034965050292 or Steve 0034620763184
Pauline and the girls. The bus trip to Denia takes about 3 hours and it stops in all the little towns. Mike took it from Alicant, the plus is you get to see all the towns and begin to enjoy the area. I recommend it but give yourselves plenty of time. Text your exact arrival in Denia.
The first wave has departed, the Jirasakhirans, and it´s such a small world, Evelyn with her photographic memory remembered Susan Kessler from 30 years ago when they were very young thangs and working together in nursing. Needless to say Evelyn will tell you all about our adventures.
I´m getting to be an expert negotiating the hairpin turns up and down to the villa in Monte Pego.
Mary the GPS device you gave me is a whiz, with just a few glitches. Some times it tells me to turn right into a ravine. We named the bitch Petra.
The girls Susan and Kathy are recuperating and sleeping late but we plan to go to Pego today, its market day and we´d like to sample their local breads and arroz. Also we´ll stop by the supermercado and stock up on wines and nibbles.
We´re loving it!
Hello,
we went to benidorm for the flea market yesterday, a big one and with lots of english antiques and stuff since the town is mostly populated by them, i got a sterling necklace of a flying unicorn and a 1920 brooch with mink and pearls, very chic. then w e went to guadalest to get to the castle and view the amazing valley and mountains and river encircling the fortress like a moat, with the water color like jade. ate lunch there, and celebrated susan k birthday and she got an enormous red lollipop to lick for a year until her next b-day. petra took us around the scenic route going back to the villa, she´s really getting to know us and is a real nice friend now to do this. we went up and down 2 mountains and the nearly full moon appeared over the mountains and the disappearing sun leaving reflections of purple and oranges and reds in the back drop. it was so heavenly we were moved to sing songs with moon themes, which i started off with my made up lyrics but the gang found me out, and the song turned out to be harbor lights. but we sang moon river with complete lyrics, how about that. we´ve slept in today, the girls are out in the pool while i do this and the internet in the resort´s service center. this afternoon we go to the beach in denia and shopping then get fresh fish from the market and grill them at delia´s villa and watch the sunset there. she got her 2 villas precisely for its orientation to the sunrise, where we are staying and the other, to the sunset. cool.
pauline and the girls, the other alternative from valencia to monte pego is to take the train from valencia nord train station, check how the metro connects here from the airport, or if you´re on the train already from barcelona, you´d be in the station, so transfer to the train to GANDIA and get off XEROCA, 45 MIN TRIP, THEN I CAN PICK YOU UP AT XEROCA, train leaves every 30 minutes, text me your time arrival in Xeroca or DENIA if by bus, for pick up, give me the date too, i´m not following the dates here accurately.
I still do not have arrival time for Marites party, i only have the day sept 28, but you´ll have a car so you can come on your own. Drive to Monte pego main entrance to the restaurant and i´ll meet you there to get to the villa.
I do not have arrival details for Niti and Susan, just the date on sept 17 and I don´t know how, what time and where they are arriving.evelyn can you kulit them.
email both my gmail and yahoo address if you cannot call me on my cell or text me.
GREAT Anicia and Diane have arive but not with their luggage and its still not in today.
On 9/12/08, Jirasakhiran, Evelyn
Miman,
Got back this afternoon safely in ATL. We decided to spend another night at Hotel Europa as it would have been too long to wait at the airport. We got lucky again to be in business class. Thanks for the great adventure….. the picture are already in a brag book. We went directly to Costco to have them developed. We got lost in Alicante and took another hour just to find the place. We kept on asking people and they keep telling us how to get to the train station with no success. Finally, we asked a gentleman who was driving a Mercedes at the stop light, and can you believe he let us follow him all the way to the station? He would have been your age and good looking too. People are so nice there. Thanks for the great adventures!!!Evelyn
le costa blanca adventureres,
niti and susan arrived last night, they decided to rent a car from alicante, but theri gps didn´t work here, but niti found monte pego entrance and they were just in time to have dinner with all of us. we went to seville 2 days ago and it was hard getting a taxi because madonna, the like a virgin one, was performing at their olympic stadium, 40,000 sevillans went to see the material girl. my 4 madonnas, anicia,susan k.,diane, and kathy just left today on the train from xeroca to valencia, where they will put their luggage in the train station storage and tour the city and shop before their paris flight at 4.30 PM. They are very excited for susan k. who will be celebrating her b-day in paris. we were going to see the alhambra when we detoured to granada on the way home from seville but admission was closed, too many vuisitors for the day, but we enjoyed plaza nueva and petra took us to all the nooks and alleys of the the old city while attempting to take us to the alhambra, when we discovered cars are not allowed to go up that way, but instead must access from the highway. we always learn and learning this way is always an adventure.
we played la sella golf club yesterday, me susan and anicia, a jose maria olazabal course, and walked 18 holes, we felt great, i had a 47 on the front but collapsed in the back with a 53, still a good round for me.
marites, myrna and eqabelleras, driving from valencia, you exit on 63 oliva-pego exit, then go through the town of oliva, look for the small sign to pego on right , then after you get out of the town, look for the very small sign to pego on you left, once you´re on this road, just follow the road stright ahead to bella vista go up the mountain and on top turn left where there is a big sign board of the development, to the end of the road where the bella vista restaurant is, turn right there and follow the road as it curves right and just go stright until it ends to villa delchel. text me of exact arrival.
we´ve hooked up with my friend who owns the villa and she invited us for dinner at her new villa here, fabulous and breathtaking, i regretted not renting it instead when she suggested it. but hey don´t get me wrong the villa we´re in is no slum shack at all, you´ll love it.
i´m letting niti and susan sleep in to recuperate,maybe take a brief dip in the pool, then we´ll drive to one of the beaches, denia or javea nad stroll and looksee and have dinner there.
can´t wait for the rest to get here,
metty
Dear Del,
I tried to call you but the answering machine came on again, but I figured you were in flight already.I regret we were not able to say goodbye properly, you know we would have loved to join you. The good news is that my friends who were coming from Alicante that evening made it and we had dinner together at the Swedish restaurant. Thank you for showing us your beloved part of the coast and we loved meeting Remy and Rosemary. I will see you soon in Baltimore at Mikey´s wedding.
Yesterday and today I am alone for the first time so I decided to check out the fiesta in Vall DÉbo, but I probably have the wrong date or the fiesta is not starting until the evening. Teens were transporting chairs probably for the supposed free supper. Anyway it was a lovely little village, of 700 inhabitants according to the brochure, no Englishman there, and no one spoke English, the drive was knuckle-whitening serpentine roads, more steep and formidable than the return trip from Guadalest, but the landscape was breathtaking. Viewed the stalactites and stalagmites of Cova del Rull, and checked the nearby hamlets, a nice drive. Arriving home on top towards the villa I decided to take a different road to see the villas, missed my turn and decided to back up, but I´ve gotten used to having lookouts guiding me, so I hit the stone wall, dented Picasso´s tail badly and scraped the tires it tore. So I had a flat and it took me until 4 PM today to get a replacemnet car. I was marooned in the villa, so I had time to do my nails, read and a mistake, watch CNN and hear about the bad news all over the world. Who needs those. And thank goodness the girls left plenty of wine and leftovers, so I was content. I have a new silver Picasso to drive and I´ll have new lookouts arriving tomorrow, so I´ll be good driving again.
Thanks so much, I got your note about paying my bill for Joanna´s services, Thanks so much, I owe you much already you have to come to Atlanta and be my guest for a change.
Love,
Metty
i Metty,
I'm tickled you went to Val De'Vu and went to Cova de Rull. That opened only in the last 6 years and there are larger caves which have not opened yet. One of the painters who spent two weeks with me there painted that village. I am trying to haggle for that painting til now.
So sorry to hear about your car. Well, that was your baptism. Now you know to be more on the look out. At one time our car had the two rear tires hanging off a shallow cliff! We promply jumped out of course.Anyway, I'm glad you are enjoying a brand new car. I am very careful driving around there since there are so many unexpected structures. If you have time, look at your guide and go climb an old catle. Cullera has a fantastic one. Xativa has interesting museums and old castles as well. someone with at adventure in her heart like you and me will never tire of investigating al the surprises just around the corner there. I told my friend Aldona about you. I will email you her phone number. She is the one who knows all about Costa Blanca and Spain as a matter of fact. You will love her. she was withus that night we missed each other. Try to find authentic Spanish restaurants if you can. The one we were in that night was one. There is a BandB Restaurant who specializes in Rosemary stuffed chicken just along 332 past that circle to Pego. Just go like you were going north to Oliva, it is a new one and the meal is only 6.76 Euros. It is on the right next to that new sort of convenience or gas station. I'm not to sure but I know you will have no problm finding it.
I am still jet lagging. Please tell Susan to email me we need to hook up on some business deals.
I am so sorry too that we never had our time together, but there will be more times in the future now that you are retired.
So long for now.
Love,
Del
HI!
I´m waiting to hear from Pauline, about their arrival time. Today for the first time it´s overcast and raining intermittently, a little cool, but still very nice. I decided against golf at the Javea golf club, and will wait for the usual sunny day. The car rental people sent me another Picasso, a silver one, to replace the black Picasso I battered and bruised so badly and busted the rear tire. These are just little teeny confrontations with the stone walls around the villas in Monte Pego while getting out of the driveway and backing up. I need my lookouts and navigation guides to do this maneuvers without mishaps, and to think that I managed the tight alleys of the little towns I checked out last Sunday, I can´t believe this happened.
Glad to hear the Paris girls made it to the Lido.
Metty
n Fri, Sep 19, 2008 at 5:35 AM, Fiameta Pellicer
we´ve talked to you since, and the hotel was fine, clean and with large rooms, we enjoyed seville and had the most wonderful dinner there, next to the flamenco theater, the restaurant albahaca, i had sauteed goose liver in vinegar and honey sauce that just melts in your mouth. the four madonnas left today for paris, i just dropped them off at the xeraco train station for the 45 min trip to valencia, where they´ll do touring and shopping before their paris flight at 4.30 PM
THANKS
metty
lad you're having fun in spite of mishaps! The market and all the turmoil here has been keeping me busy. Had a great time at the Zone shoot in Georgetown SC in spite of rain the first day and 500% humidity the next.
Went to an indoor pistol range last sat and shot a .45! Recoil is incredible. Did extremely well, and even hit the bull's eye (which is really a little x representing the chest).
My mother is awaiting a biopsy from a growth on her hand. Dr. told her to prepare herself because it was either going to be really bad, or worse than really bad. Of course we were all upset. Called my dr on Mon and his office said any surgery wouldn't be any more invasive than the biopsy, so that was reassuring and we have all calmed down.
"Coach" and I have settled into a comfortable relationship. We pretty much act like an old married couple with our routine. May not be romantic but it fits like an old shoe, so I'm ok since I'm getting the support I need and there's a sense of reliability.
Enjoy reading your posts, and wish I were there. Be careful, the stone gates are even harder than your head, so give them lots of respect.
well, how does one become an old married couple without going through the hot times first,que es la vida, I in Valencia with the Apanays and Abelleras, and tomorrow after parting with
them Iĺl be travelling solo , which will be nice for a change. Enjoyed all the company s and they made nmy retirement vacation fun and dear but solitude is very relaxing too. Will take the train to Barcelona, and stay aa couple of days before boarding the ferry to Genoa then to anywhere in Italy on my way to Ischia. Itś too bad I will miss the vice pres debate, Palin makes big fish in a small pond the criteria for exeptional in america now. I think I will immigrate to Spain.
Wish you were here hope your mom is doing well.
Metty
Pauline and 5 grls off 2 alcante ovrnite plyd glf clb javea shot 46 for 9 holes had 6 shrieking glrs here whew
I stumbled on the Pinoy section of Barcelona, and hung out in one of the Pinoy restaurants, Myramar one on Valldecella near Plz Catalunya, there´s a second Myramar in the Parallel, and another Pinoy resto on Compte Borrel, Pasa Pasa. The whole street is full of Pinoys. The owner of Myramar is from Mindoro, the Malapitans, then there´s someone visiting from Milan, from Alaminos Laguna, they are working as waiters and hotel employees, one works in a car dealership, a couple both work as maid and houseman for a family. Many are also tago tago, one was going home because he cluodn´t find a job, still all of them say it´s better for them, salary average 13-15,000 euros annually. They have karoake establishment and next door grocery is Filipino owned, I said I regretted not meeting them earlier because I would have played mahjong with them,there´s about 30,000 Pinoys in Barcelona. So next time you´re in BCN, look these guys up for mahjong.
I´m, waiting to embark my ship for the overnight trip to Genoa, as I was booking my hotel, they were very expensive, Genoa is the Italian riviera. So I get to check out how it compares with Nice or Cannes, Biarritz, Bayonne, and of course Costa Blanca and Costa del Sol.
I was going to Montserrat, thought I´d check it out like yáll said, but I got up late, and missed the tour at 8:30 am but it wouldn´t have worked anyway since they return late for me to make my ship boarding. I was going to take the hour long train and do it on my own, but >I wasn´t very motivated, so I decided to check their contemporary art museum, like our NYC MoMA, their building is by Richard Meier is supersleek and the collection inside is very wierd.
Got on the Line 2 metro and visited Rizal´s monument on Avenida de las Filipinas. It´s in the corner of a new recreation park next to the Isabel II water reservoir, northeast of Madrid. Very nice park used by Madrilenos just inaugurated last year, with golf driving range and practice greens, soccer fields, fountains, resilient surfaced jogging paths, rose gardens, fountains checker tables and chairs under trees, fitness yards, playgrounds, and a nice restaurant. It was placed there during the centennial of Phil Independence, 1998, under Fidel Ramos auspices. I don´t know how many locals wonder who he is, they use the steps to stretch before running. I think we should see with the embassy about marketing a walking tour of Rizal´s Madrid.
I´m arriving at 2:30 PM tomorrow, see yáll soon
Well, we spent Saturday night celebrating my mom's birthday and planning our pumkin carving tactics.
Dr. José P. Rizal (full name: José Protasio Rizal Mercado y Alonso Realonda) (June 19, 1861 – December 30, 1896) was a Filipino polymath, nationalist and the most prominent advocate for reforms in the Philippines during the Spanish colonial era. He is considered the Philippines' national hero and the anniversary of Rizal's death is commemorated as a Philippine holiday called Rizal Day.
From: Fiameta Pellicer [mailto:mimanmetty@yahoo.com]
Sent: Sat 10/25/2008 6:12 PM
To: anicia biglow; ely abellera; manolo apanay; jjwilliam@tsys.com; Kathy Gansserite; Doobs; bonnie vargas; Anneteele Vargas; M Vargas; rmsdgs@aol.com;
Cc: Mary Pitts; Erin Bittner; Jessica Wong; Cecile Bregman
Subject: Madrid
I checked Toledo, and I ´ve had it with medieval cities. I´m crossing off Segovia and instead booked a salon appointment for hair and nails. I checked out addresses in Madrid on Barquillo Street and Cava San Miguel. There isn´t any plaque there about his stay. I´´ll see what can be done about it when I get back. I had dinner in the San Miguel address No. 7 which is now a very funky bodega style restaurant, the whole street is very bohemian and the restaurants there all have live music. It´s not too far from Puerta del Sol. I took the metro back as I´ve walked too far and it was packed like sardines at 11:50 pm. Everybody in Madrid is just getting ready for the all night Saturday partying. I love Madrid.
Metty
From: Norma C. Panahon
Subject: RE: Pueblo Ingles
To: mimanmetty@yahoo.com
Date: Sunday, October 19, 2008, 3:21 PM
Metty: So happy to hear about all your adventures and explorations...envious of your decisiveness to go and explore the corners of this world and just enjoy the culture, the richness and abundance in other parts of the earth- and have the privilege to bond with so many creatures. I really have to work on letting go of the chains tied around my hands and neck ,that I have allowed to prevent my mobility.I hope someday I can join you in one of your tripss. I enjoy your vivid descriptions of all those places and day to day scenarios. Keep it up, my friend! You deserve every minute of your soiree!! luv yah...Noy
Date: Sun, 19 Oct 2008 01:29:50 -0700
From: mimanmetty@yahoo.com
Subject: RE: Pueblo Ingles
To: abiglow@earthlink.net; eqabellera@bellsouth.net; mbapanay@yahoo.com; jjwilliam@tsys.com; silverkathy@bellsouth.net; spellicer@gmail.com; kiridit@yahoo.com; hvargas@worldbank.org; minda501v@yahoo.com; rmsdgs@aol.com; susan_namgeanfar@emoryhealthcare.org; tesmari@charter.net; myrna1274@comcast.net; noycee@hotmail.com; Linda.S.Connelly@hud.gov
CC: Mary.Pitts@raymondjames.com; erin.bittner@gmail.com; jska7783@gmail.com; cecilemd@hotmail.com
Indeed the village is very charming we walked there during siesta as that was the only part of the schedule we have enough time to walk there and back. I got to tell my jokes but only the clean ones as this group so far appears to be a little uptight, and my stand up comic routine went over very well with the Anglos, and I did not forget my punch lines, and I paced the punch line well, but many of the spniards didn´t get the double meanings as >I found out during meal conversation later, but they got the one about the patient who thinks he´s a dog, and started to think that that way since he was a puppy, so they had a good laugh. Well, I found out the party animals last night at the bar, and we had a great time, dancing and ended up shooting tequilas, so maybe it is going to be quite fun after all.
Metty
--- On Sun, 10/19/08, Connelly, Linda S
From: Connelly, Linda S
Subject: RE: Pueblo Ingles
To: mimanmetty@yahoo.com, "anicia biglow"
Cc: "Mary Pitts"
Date: Sunday, October 19, 2008, 3:35 AM
And now your final round of your trip arrived! The area sounds beautiful. Best wishes on your week. From what I read, it is intense, purposeful and rewarding with limited access to the outside world. Hopefully, you'll be able to send a few more e-mails. Best wishes with your experience. Wasn't it just yesterday when you were practicing your jokes...."I can see clearly .... your ...
Alberca, formerly known as Valdelaguna, is located in the Southern part of the province of Salamanca. This village is 1084 metres above sea level on the Northern slopes of 'la Sierra de Francia'(the French mountain range'). Its unusual houses and streets have put it on the toursist map for visitors to the province of Salamanca. With the Cabras Pintas prehistoric caves on the edge of Alberca, it is thought that this village was repopulated during the times of Alfonso VI by the French. In fact some of its place names like 'la Sierra de Francia' and 'el rio Frances' (the French river) refer to these origins. One of Alberca's greatest assets is the diversity of the wonderful scenery that surrounds it. On one side you can see granite, slate and quartzite which support the varied wild vegetation and forests of oaks, chestnut trees, pine trees, walnut trees, apple trees and almond groves. Like many other villages in Spain, Alberca's population is declining. Over half a century ago it had 1700 inhabitants but now this figure hardly reaches a 1000. However, the village is still well maintained and despite harsh winters and very hot summers tourism plays an important part in its economy. Its narrow cobbled streets, small squares and curious houses make this a beautiful place to visit.
From: Fiameta Pellicer [mailto:mimanmetty@yahoo.com]
Sent: Sat 10/18/2008 6:47 AM
To: anicia biglow; ely abellera; manolo apanay; jjwilliam@tsys.com; Kathy Gansserite; Doobs; bonnie vargas; Anneteele Vargas; M Vargas; rmsdgs@aol.com; Connelly, Linda S;
Cc: Mary Pitts; Erin Bittner; Jessica Wong; Cecile Bregman
Subject: Pueblo Ingles
Hola!
I´m back in spain, and finally was able to get into the Reina Sophia to view Picasso´s Guernica which Metty
Hola!
We´re winding down here, Friday we drive back to Madrid then I linger until the 28th and I should be seeing yáll in no time at all. I´m ready to go home. I´m getting a lot from the jokes I can remember to tell correctly, and Ray just sent me a bar blonde joke which I certainly can find the right occasion to tell tonight. The one about sometimes the bull wins too has gotten many laughs here, and finally I got the right moment to tell the second opinion joke, about the surgeons wife and some of Evelyn´s jokes . Tonight we´re rehearshing a comedy routine to present during pre0dinner entertainment. We´re drinking a lot of wine for lunch and dinner, I definitely will need to starve myself when I get home
Metty
Prego,
I'm so exhausted today. I didn.t do my homework and just took the suburban train to go see Vesuvius. I had to take the Metro then connct with the suburban train, then take the shuttle bus to Vesuvius. That was the easy part, I wasn't prepared to hike up the volcano crater for 40 minutes, I am so out of shape this past 6 weeks, eating pasta and all, so I was huffing and puffing. Then I get on the trian agian to go see Pompeii, didn't realize this excavation is so immense and midn boggling. It is an entire city, so awesome. I had a hard time getting out of there I got lost in the maze of streets and alleys. Of note, the whorehouse, with frescoes of all the differecnt ways you can copulate, too bad I didn't know how to set my camera without flash, so I wasn't able to take pictures. Then there was this painting of Priapus, the god of fertility, he's the one we derived priapism from, he's there with his big member laid out on a plate. these early Romans really knwo how to live. You should see how their houses were laid out. and the baths, such a ritual with cold dips, tepid dips and hot dips, none of these quick utilitarian showers, also with all unguents, and liniments and fragrances to go with it. Bathing can take up half a day. What a life! Then since the end of the line is to Sorrento, I decided to take the train to the end. Sorrento is charming and of course has an emotional tug with the familiar songs Come back to Sorrento, O Sole Mio, so it had me even before I can say Prego. The train trip back to the hortel was over one hour, what with changes and all, so I had a late dinner at the hotel before they closed the kitchen at 10:30. I need the hot springs of Ischia after today, and I have to be up early tomorrow to fly to Madrid and I think I'll stay up for the debates, which is 2 am here.
Ta Ta
Miss y'all already
Metty
Prego Y'all,
I'm now in Napoli, left Ischia this afternoon and will do Vesuvius and Pompeii tomorrow, then fly to Madrid to join my Pueblo Ingles co-volunteers for a get to know you lunch on Thursday then take a 2 hour bus to Alberca on Friday and join our spanish counterparts. After 2 weeks of not speaking the language I'm dying for conversation and telling anybody who cares to listne or don't have the guts to interrupt me about what I think of what's going on anywhere and about anything. Well, after seeing the highlights of the city I'm having 2nd thoughts about Naples. True, there's so many hustlers, and you have to be alert, and the city is littered in many palces, and graffiti is everywhere, but it is vibrant and bustling and bold and macho, it is so alive, jsut liek New York. It is also culturally diverse with Senegalese, Ukrainians and Polish taking up the unskilled workforce. It feels familiar like Manila, with macho men, and superficial glitz, and bambinas sexed to the hilt. Billboards and TV announcer sidekicks of middle aged men with paunchy middles are Bimbo types with low necklines and silicon boobs and tight or short short skirts and 6-inch platform heels, and dark eyeliners and red lips. I miss seeign Penelope Cruz on billboards as we saw in Spain. Billboards here feature lingerie ads. In Ischia the social evnets there are fashion shows , and yeah lingerie shows.Naples is in the process of cleaning itlself up, there's public works all over the place and buildings in scaffolds undergoing reinvigorating transformations.This region with Sorrento and Capri withh hves so much connection with the US I'm wondering why there are so few American tourists here. A city with the sea at its doorstep will always have captivating charm for me.Metty
Dear Jessica,
Thanks so much for your endorsement of my activities, and certainly I enjoyed your company and all your friends. Being with adventurous and independent young people makes me feel excited and young. In many ways I still feel like a 25 year old but with advantages, like having a platinum AMEX and all the confidnece 66 years of living have accumulated. I feel I'm living the best years of my life. I just left Ischia this afternoon and now am in Naples. Will go see Vesuvius and Pompeii tomorrow, then fly back to Madrid to do my Pueblo Ingles volunteer work. I'm so looking forward to this segment of my 2-month long trip, and after traveling solo for 2 weeks and not speaking the language, I'm now hungering for conversation and lively repartee. I'll be back in Atlanta october 28, and yeah, let's have a reunion on my return and look at all our photos.
Tita Metty
--- On Sun, 10/12/08, Jessica Wong
From: Jessica Wong
Subject: Hola Tita Metty!
To: mimanmetty@yahoo.com
Date: Sunday, October 12, 2008, 8:53 PM
Hi Tita Metty!
I just wanted to thank you so much for having us girls come stay at your place in Monte Pego. I had the best time there, and it really opened my eyes to respect the culture Spain has to offer. I loved the scenery, especially on the train rides. I really appreciate you taking us back and forth to the train stations to the villa. I know it was a lot of running around for you, but hopefully you got some good rounds of golf in! I enjoyed the yummy dinners in, along with going out on the town, and even at Bella Vista restaurant. I'm very grateful to be able to experience all of this. I truly think you are an inspiration, and I would love to become a world traveler just like you!
I have been enjoying your emails about your journey through Milan and such. Pauline has been sharing your stories. I bet you are having a blast seeing all the different sides of Europe. Maybe when you get back to Atlanta, all of us girls can take you out to a nice Spanish/Tapas dinner so we can revisit our trip with our imagination! Again, thank you for letting me partake in the wonderful sights, sounds, and smells of Spain. (Not including the smelly europeans on the train with bad body odor! haha!)
I hope you have a safe trip back to the states! Enjoy smoking all your cuban cigars while you're still there!
Miss you!
Jessica
HI,
I took a bus around the island, covering the coast and the interior to the highest point, It took about 3 hours and 2 1.20 Euro tickets good for 90 minutes ride each. Great tour, tourists are mainly Germans here, they even have a German TV channel, otherwise the condo TV is all Italian, their announcers are all middle eaged paunchy men with over made up Barbie sidekicks wwith big boobs. The average young mature Women are made up heavily and not elegantly dressed, favors shiny and loud stuff, abd emphasi
The roads here are so tight, buses have to stop every time there,s an appraoaching car. A dog jumped off an oncoming triscooter and our bus hit the poor thing and looked like a leg was broken and hip dislocated, we were all upset.
Italian news is following up US elections.
I,LL stay put tomorrow by the pool, then to Naples on Tuesday and Wednesday, then take a flight to Madrid Thursday.
Ta Ta, Missing y,all already.
Metty
--- On Sat, 10/11/08, Connelly, Linda S
Date: Saturday, October 11, 2008, 10:20 PM
Hi,
We...I finally located Ischia thanks to adding the Poseidon Beach and Spa to my google search.
"Ischia is located in the Campania region, about an hour by ferry from Naples. It is called the green island because in contrast to rocky Capri, Ischia is covered with vegetation. There are thermal locations all over the island. The ground water is heated, there are thermal sands, and even the seawater in some areas is heated by volcanic action. Almost all the hotels (and there are many) have pools that are heated and unheated. Poseidon Gardens and Negombo are places you can go to spend the day in the lovely pools and also in the sea, because both have lovely beaches in addition to the pools."
I'm enjoying your adventures!
From: Fiameta Pellicer [mailto:mimanmetty@yahoo.com]
Subject: Napoli and Ischia
Had a pampering at the Poseidon Beach and Spa here, weather gorgeous, however not much to do, the villa is again on top of the hill, with spectacular views but a hassle to get anywhere, though there is a little town 10 minute walk away with restaurant and mercado. Naples look seedy and there are too many hustlers, but I.m leaving Ischia on Tuesday and do Naples but will book a more expensive hotel in the elegant part of town to avoid most of the seediness. Maybe check out Capri and Sorrento just to look see. The thermal springs here is fabulous. The best way to enjoy the place is to moor your sailboat or yacht on the harbor and loll around, go offshore to visit the bars and restaurants and have plenty of company for a party.
I was at the Obama Inauguration
The 56th Presidential Inauguration, Barack H. Obama, the 44th President
January 20, 2009
I thought I’d be late to board my train to Washington DC. Anicia and I forgot the time chatting away and had to rush to the Amtrak station and as what usually happens in these situations, traffic was at a snail’s pace on 17th St. We debated whether to detour to Bishop’s St, as I had only minutes to spare. But it cleared after the Cirque du Soleil crowd made the turn on Market St., and I’m on my way to witness the most anticipated Presidential inauguration in history.
The train was sold out. I couldn’t get a sleeping berth when I made my reservation as soon as Obama clinched the elections. Air was costing over $600 RT vs Amtrak coach $331.50, a 13 hr 49 min overnight journey from Atlanta to Washington DC. The Crescent line originates from New Orleans and ends in NYC. When the train stopped at Union Station in DC everyone got off except 9 who were continuing the trip to New York.
This is only my second trip on Amtrak, the first was 10 years ago to Meridian MS with a bunch of girlfriends on a gambling jaunt to the Silver Slipper Indian Casino. I quickly found out that the people on board did not pay the same price for their seats, and just like the airlines, train fares have pricing games that test your cunning in order to get the lowest fare. Naturally I wasn’t amused to learn that the woman next to me paid $148 RT and the couple across the aisle from AL paid $225 each for theirs, and I thought I got a deal already with a senior discount.
But never mind that. The people on board were in celebratory mood. It’s like we’ve known each other before. Everyone had a story about why they are going to the inauguration, and there was a young reporter there from the Atlanta Journal/Constitution with his microphone and camera to record these stories. I sat across the dining table with a woman and her 8-year-old nephew, his mother is in Iraq, and he’s hoping that Obama will end the war so his mom could come home, and he’s also working hard in school because he wants to go to college and be like Barack. The gentleman next to me walked in the Million Man March and was a volunteer and financial contributor in the Obama campaign, going door to door registering voters, and he has one of the coveted inaugural tickets. He was profoundly touched and in near tears as he recounted these. A couple from New Orleans had tickets to the Southern Ball, one of the events with a scheduled Obama drop in. Our conversation drifted to the Mardi Gras and the husband happens to be the president of the Zulu Krewe, and he promised to take care of me should I decide to be in New Orleans on February 24. It’s amazing how interesting people are and how open they were on this occasion. A white gentleman in our dining table is a retired state historian, his department canvasses historic houses and places and evaluates them for the historic registry. He had been in every inauguration since Jimmy Carter, and he said he has not ever seen it like this. He gave me his blog, and he also writes a genealogy column for the AJC. For my Element neighbors it would be of interest that he knows Rodney Cook personally and I found that out after I gave my speech about the grotesque eyesore that is the Millenium Gate of Atlantic Station.
On the eve of the inauguration, we checked our Metro stop and traced our way to the recently opened Newseum, where we had tickets to view the swearing in and parade in the comforts of a climate controlled environment with easy access to bathrooms and food sources. Still, I was hoping to get tickets to the grounds at the last minute, close to the stage to witness the swearing in in person. Jacki who had standing section Silver tickets obtained from Craig’s list sellers for $150, was trying to get me one. The price had gone up to $300 and I wasn’t interested, and days earlier, it was even unthinkable that someone offered Alex $20K for a premium space in the seated section.
We bundled up in layers, it will be 29 degrees, made sure we covered our heads with a hat or cloche, packed our chemical hand warmers,and carried protein bar provisions in our pockets, and started out at the gates at 7 AM. It was standing room only at the Bethesda metro station but we got in without any trouble.At my stop at Judiciary Square, we were herded in only one direction, contrary to my rehearsed route. Jacki lost her Silver ticket, and got separated from her company, but reported later that she fell in with a lucky group and had good viewing points for the ceremony. I wasn’t so lucky. I marched with legions in the 3rd St. tunnel, from Judiciary, starting in darkness, and emerging eons later in the mouth of I-495 in broad daylight. But the legions were in a party mood, there was cheering and singing in the tunnel. There was no police or National guard in sight for all the thousands marching in the tunnel, we were just following the inertia of the crowd, but nobody minded. Finally there was someone to ask when we began to see the light at the end of the tunnel. I needed directions to the Newseum so I can stake my viewing turf. Three hours later having been sent around in circles ending in barricaded streets, I couldn’t cross to the other side of the mall to get to the Newseum. I was swept in a mass of insulated bulky bodies to the Washington monument end of the mall, so far from my intended destination, dwarfed by giant Black men and smothered by fur encased big Black women, when the moment in history arrived. I witnessed it in a stamp sized jumbotron in the distance behind the steel barricades on Jefferson and 12th St, zealously kept intact by National guards Culp and Butler. They were gracious though in taking our cameras and shooting our picture in the crowd. When it was over, Culp and Butler had strict orders not to let anyone cross the barricades to the wide open street to exit, when it appeared to all of us that that was the most expedient way to go. The side exit was gridlocked, and nobody could move. Whether real or not women were making drama, fainting, gasping, shouting medical emergency. Still they were not allowed to cross the barricade, instead the medics were called to their position to administer aid. When it seemed like we were beginning to feel like prisoners, and Culp and Butler could not give us any alternatives, 2 young men figured out that they could create an exit if they removed some porta potties hemming us on one side. And so they lifted 2 aside, positioned themselves on the roof and directed our exit. At the L’Enfant Metro station, the surge took 40 minutes to disperse into the trains and back to homes to watch the historic event replayed on their flat screen TV’s. I gave up on the parade, I was on the wrong side of the tracks.
January 20, 2009
I thought I’d be late to board my train to Washington DC. Anicia and I forgot the time chatting away and had to rush to the Amtrak station and as what usually happens in these situations, traffic was at a snail’s pace on 17th St. We debated whether to detour to Bishop’s St, as I had only minutes to spare. But it cleared after the Cirque du Soleil crowd made the turn on Market St., and I’m on my way to witness the most anticipated Presidential inauguration in history.
The train was sold out. I couldn’t get a sleeping berth when I made my reservation as soon as Obama clinched the elections. Air was costing over $600 RT vs Amtrak coach $331.50, a 13 hr 49 min overnight journey from Atlanta to Washington DC. The Crescent line originates from New Orleans and ends in NYC. When the train stopped at Union Station in DC everyone got off except 9 who were continuing the trip to New York.
This is only my second trip on Amtrak, the first was 10 years ago to Meridian MS with a bunch of girlfriends on a gambling jaunt to the Silver Slipper Indian Casino. I quickly found out that the people on board did not pay the same price for their seats, and just like the airlines, train fares have pricing games that test your cunning in order to get the lowest fare. Naturally I wasn’t amused to learn that the woman next to me paid $148 RT and the couple across the aisle from AL paid $225 each for theirs, and I thought I got a deal already with a senior discount.
But never mind that. The people on board were in celebratory mood. It’s like we’ve known each other before. Everyone had a story about why they are going to the inauguration, and there was a young reporter there from the Atlanta Journal/Constitution with his microphone and camera to record these stories. I sat across the dining table with a woman and her 8-year-old nephew, his mother is in Iraq, and he’s hoping that Obama will end the war so his mom could come home, and he’s also working hard in school because he wants to go to college and be like Barack. The gentleman next to me walked in the Million Man March and was a volunteer and financial contributor in the Obama campaign, going door to door registering voters, and he has one of the coveted inaugural tickets. He was profoundly touched and in near tears as he recounted these. A couple from New Orleans had tickets to the Southern Ball, one of the events with a scheduled Obama drop in. Our conversation drifted to the Mardi Gras and the husband happens to be the president of the Zulu Krewe, and he promised to take care of me should I decide to be in New Orleans on February 24. It’s amazing how interesting people are and how open they were on this occasion. A white gentleman in our dining table is a retired state historian, his department canvasses historic houses and places and evaluates them for the historic registry. He had been in every inauguration since Jimmy Carter, and he said he has not ever seen it like this. He gave me his blog, and he also writes a genealogy column for the AJC. For my Element neighbors it would be of interest that he knows Rodney Cook personally and I found that out after I gave my speech about the grotesque eyesore that is the Millenium Gate of Atlantic Station.
On the eve of the inauguration, we checked our Metro stop and traced our way to the recently opened Newseum, where we had tickets to view the swearing in and parade in the comforts of a climate controlled environment with easy access to bathrooms and food sources. Still, I was hoping to get tickets to the grounds at the last minute, close to the stage to witness the swearing in in person. Jacki who had standing section Silver tickets obtained from Craig’s list sellers for $150, was trying to get me one. The price had gone up to $300 and I wasn’t interested, and days earlier, it was even unthinkable that someone offered Alex $20K for a premium space in the seated section.
We bundled up in layers, it will be 29 degrees, made sure we covered our heads with a hat or cloche, packed our chemical hand warmers,and carried protein bar provisions in our pockets, and started out at the gates at 7 AM. It was standing room only at the Bethesda metro station but we got in without any trouble.At my stop at Judiciary Square, we were herded in only one direction, contrary to my rehearsed route. Jacki lost her Silver ticket, and got separated from her company, but reported later that she fell in with a lucky group and had good viewing points for the ceremony. I wasn’t so lucky. I marched with legions in the 3rd St. tunnel, from Judiciary, starting in darkness, and emerging eons later in the mouth of I-495 in broad daylight. But the legions were in a party mood, there was cheering and singing in the tunnel. There was no police or National guard in sight for all the thousands marching in the tunnel, we were just following the inertia of the crowd, but nobody minded. Finally there was someone to ask when we began to see the light at the end of the tunnel. I needed directions to the Newseum so I can stake my viewing turf. Three hours later having been sent around in circles ending in barricaded streets, I couldn’t cross to the other side of the mall to get to the Newseum. I was swept in a mass of insulated bulky bodies to the Washington monument end of the mall, so far from my intended destination, dwarfed by giant Black men and smothered by fur encased big Black women, when the moment in history arrived. I witnessed it in a stamp sized jumbotron in the distance behind the steel barricades on Jefferson and 12th St, zealously kept intact by National guards Culp and Butler. They were gracious though in taking our cameras and shooting our picture in the crowd. When it was over, Culp and Butler had strict orders not to let anyone cross the barricades to the wide open street to exit, when it appeared to all of us that that was the most expedient way to go. The side exit was gridlocked, and nobody could move. Whether real or not women were making drama, fainting, gasping, shouting medical emergency. Still they were not allowed to cross the barricade, instead the medics were called to their position to administer aid. When it seemed like we were beginning to feel like prisoners, and Culp and Butler could not give us any alternatives, 2 young men figured out that they could create an exit if they removed some porta potties hemming us on one side. And so they lifted 2 aside, positioned themselves on the roof and directed our exit. At the L’Enfant Metro station, the surge took 40 minutes to disperse into the trains and back to homes to watch the historic event replayed on their flat screen TV’s. I gave up on the parade, I was on the wrong side of the tracks.
Wednesday, November 05, 2008
Free at Last
Free at Last!
Musings on the Occasion of my Retirement
In the past 2 years work had been in the way of the things that I wanted to do. In the past year it had been unbearable because of work politics which earned me a place as thorn on the side of administration and of staffing cut backs which impacted patient care adversely. I couldn’t quit and throw away retirement benefits I will be entitled to from the State which I will qualify to receive in 12 months. I felt trapped and suffocated, and helpless, and powerless. I had to harness support and strength from my friends and family to contain myself and protect me from my reckless impulses. And so when August 31st arrived I couldn’t wait to check out. I discouraged any farewell party plans, I was not cut out to be politically correct. When my colleagues looked at me with pitying eyes and made remarks as if I was going to be lost in long days of emptiness and boredom, I sent them a cheery card bidding adieu to the tune of
Evita’s aria, “ Don’t cry for me GRH-Atlanta, the truth is I couldn’t wait to leave you!”
After I signed off at Personnel, cleaned out my desk, and turned in my badge and keys, I rolled the top down of my Beetle convertible and drove off, my hair blowing in the wind, and my joy soaring with Beethoven’s Violin Concerto in D major playing on NPR. Free at last!
I had a grand retirement party planned for months. I had this idea that I will be a nomad for a while, living for months at a time in a single country and really getting to know the place and the people and experiencing how they live. It turned out that a lot of people are already doing this as a lifestyle. I started corresponding by email with one of them, Rita Golden Gelman. I wanted to meet her when she was passing through Atlanta, but our schedules didn’t merge. I’ll be a dilettante nomad, that’s how I see what I want to do . So I planned right away to be abroad for 2 months starting in September, with the first month to be my grand retirement party in Costa Blanca in the Spanish Mediterranen coast between Valencia and Alicante, where I rented a 5-bedroom villa for 4 weeks. I invited all my friends to join me and 23 made the trip. However, I didn’t get to experience the local lifestyle as Costa Blanca is populated by English expatriates who had transformed the coast into a homogeneous strip of high rise condominiums and covered the hills with cookie cutter luxury villas with individual swimming pools. With friends streaming throughout the 4 weeks, there was no opportunity to get acquainted with the local Spaniards. As it were the local population in the villages became the tourist attraction together with the Roman and Moorish ruins dotting the coast. So OK, this was a party, a great party with friends, and I haven’t begun my nomadic experiment yet.
I had booked a week in October in a condominium in Ischia, an island off the bay of Naples, across Capri, to be pampered in the hot springs and mineral springs fed by Mt. Vesuvius. The condo is high in the hills in the tiny village of Panza, however it is sequestered from the village and caters to German tourists. The nearby spa I went to, giardini Poseidon terme, is downhill, in the bay of Citara, is run by a German company, and similarly patronized by German tourists. I got a feel for the locals in the family owned restaurants in the village and in the internet cafe, where the local children hung out to play video games. When I took the trains to go around Italy, to Genoa, Milan, Verona, to Lake Coumo, Naples, and Sorrento, I was touring, and only got to mix with other tourists. When I returned to Spain for the Pueblo Ingles program in La Alberca, an English immersion week-long workshop for Spanish executives and professionals, which I signed up for as a volunteer in exchange for meals and lodging, then to Madrid, Toledo, and Salamanca, I still didn’t get the feel of the place, I was still a tourist. This is not the way to be a nomad. So I got to thinking while I was in Madrid, inspired by nationalistic fervor while retracing Rizal’s steps during his stay there, that I can put some structure to my nomadic plans. Instead of randomly picking countries, I will immerse myself in the countries that were former colonies of Spain and use my stay as a laboratory to observe and collect information. By this time I had an epiphany of an ambitious project for my retirement. I will examine the similarities and differences in the colonization experiences of all these former colonies vis a vis the Philippine experience, and understand how nationhood developed, and specifically explain why the Philipppines and Filipinos are the way they are now. Somewhere along this I will also explore the Filipino identity from a psychological and behavioral perspective. I also want to examine the relationships of these former colonies with Spain now, and the Philippines in particular. I wondered how the history of colonization is being taught to children in Spain, in the former colonies, and in the Philippines. A tall order indeed and for sure I dont’ know where I’m coming from. Obviously I have no idea about what’s going on in this subject. Since then I’ve superficially explored how to begin. I inquired from Georgia State and University of Georgia and Georgia Tech and Emory how I might go about this. I was referred to history departments and in some to their Hispanic studies. It is evident I have to develop a network, and I need to identify people of kindred interests. I still have to review what’s being done on the subject in the Philippine universities, who are researching and writing about this in the Philippines. Some Philippine studies are incorporated in Asian studies, a completely different curriculum. I will have to examine the contents of these curricula and do literature search on the subject. Immediately, a major challenge faced me. Hispanic studies require language competency. It is apparent to me now that this will be work, not leisure, and it is work that will take many years, and a thousand hours of reading and research. I recall the fear and panic of the Spaniards in being compelled to speak only English 24/7 in the Pueblo Ingles program and I question myself if I have the resolve and audacity to take Spanish on as they took English. But I must if I want to examine manuscripts and original documents.My medical studies which I approached with just the minimum effort required to pass the subjects pale in comparison with the labor involved here in my view. And although I’m very excited and energized by this, I will think about this tomorrow. This may remain as a wish. In the meantime, I could work on my golf handicap. If my sign and the heavens are well aligned, I might break 90 without dropping a sweat.
Musings on the Occasion of my Retirement
In the past 2 years work had been in the way of the things that I wanted to do. In the past year it had been unbearable because of work politics which earned me a place as thorn on the side of administration and of staffing cut backs which impacted patient care adversely. I couldn’t quit and throw away retirement benefits I will be entitled to from the State which I will qualify to receive in 12 months. I felt trapped and suffocated, and helpless, and powerless. I had to harness support and strength from my friends and family to contain myself and protect me from my reckless impulses. And so when August 31st arrived I couldn’t wait to check out. I discouraged any farewell party plans, I was not cut out to be politically correct. When my colleagues looked at me with pitying eyes and made remarks as if I was going to be lost in long days of emptiness and boredom, I sent them a cheery card bidding adieu to the tune of
Evita’s aria, “ Don’t cry for me GRH-Atlanta, the truth is I couldn’t wait to leave you!”
After I signed off at Personnel, cleaned out my desk, and turned in my badge and keys, I rolled the top down of my Beetle convertible and drove off, my hair blowing in the wind, and my joy soaring with Beethoven’s Violin Concerto in D major playing on NPR. Free at last!
I had a grand retirement party planned for months. I had this idea that I will be a nomad for a while, living for months at a time in a single country and really getting to know the place and the people and experiencing how they live. It turned out that a lot of people are already doing this as a lifestyle. I started corresponding by email with one of them, Rita Golden Gelman. I wanted to meet her when she was passing through Atlanta, but our schedules didn’t merge. I’ll be a dilettante nomad, that’s how I see what I want to do . So I planned right away to be abroad for 2 months starting in September, with the first month to be my grand retirement party in Costa Blanca in the Spanish Mediterranen coast between Valencia and Alicante, where I rented a 5-bedroom villa for 4 weeks. I invited all my friends to join me and 23 made the trip. However, I didn’t get to experience the local lifestyle as Costa Blanca is populated by English expatriates who had transformed the coast into a homogeneous strip of high rise condominiums and covered the hills with cookie cutter luxury villas with individual swimming pools. With friends streaming throughout the 4 weeks, there was no opportunity to get acquainted with the local Spaniards. As it were the local population in the villages became the tourist attraction together with the Roman and Moorish ruins dotting the coast. So OK, this was a party, a great party with friends, and I haven’t begun my nomadic experiment yet.
I had booked a week in October in a condominium in Ischia, an island off the bay of Naples, across Capri, to be pampered in the hot springs and mineral springs fed by Mt. Vesuvius. The condo is high in the hills in the tiny village of Panza, however it is sequestered from the village and caters to German tourists. The nearby spa I went to, giardini Poseidon terme, is downhill, in the bay of Citara, is run by a German company, and similarly patronized by German tourists. I got a feel for the locals in the family owned restaurants in the village and in the internet cafe, where the local children hung out to play video games. When I took the trains to go around Italy, to Genoa, Milan, Verona, to Lake Coumo, Naples, and Sorrento, I was touring, and only got to mix with other tourists. When I returned to Spain for the Pueblo Ingles program in La Alberca, an English immersion week-long workshop for Spanish executives and professionals, which I signed up for as a volunteer in exchange for meals and lodging, then to Madrid, Toledo, and Salamanca, I still didn’t get the feel of the place, I was still a tourist. This is not the way to be a nomad. So I got to thinking while I was in Madrid, inspired by nationalistic fervor while retracing Rizal’s steps during his stay there, that I can put some structure to my nomadic plans. Instead of randomly picking countries, I will immerse myself in the countries that were former colonies of Spain and use my stay as a laboratory to observe and collect information. By this time I had an epiphany of an ambitious project for my retirement. I will examine the similarities and differences in the colonization experiences of all these former colonies vis a vis the Philippine experience, and understand how nationhood developed, and specifically explain why the Philipppines and Filipinos are the way they are now. Somewhere along this I will also explore the Filipino identity from a psychological and behavioral perspective. I also want to examine the relationships of these former colonies with Spain now, and the Philippines in particular. I wondered how the history of colonization is being taught to children in Spain, in the former colonies, and in the Philippines. A tall order indeed and for sure I dont’ know where I’m coming from. Obviously I have no idea about what’s going on in this subject. Since then I’ve superficially explored how to begin. I inquired from Georgia State and University of Georgia and Georgia Tech and Emory how I might go about this. I was referred to history departments and in some to their Hispanic studies. It is evident I have to develop a network, and I need to identify people of kindred interests. I still have to review what’s being done on the subject in the Philippine universities, who are researching and writing about this in the Philippines. Some Philippine studies are incorporated in Asian studies, a completely different curriculum. I will have to examine the contents of these curricula and do literature search on the subject. Immediately, a major challenge faced me. Hispanic studies require language competency. It is apparent to me now that this will be work, not leisure, and it is work that will take many years, and a thousand hours of reading and research. I recall the fear and panic of the Spaniards in being compelled to speak only English 24/7 in the Pueblo Ingles program and I question myself if I have the resolve and audacity to take Spanish on as they took English. But I must if I want to examine manuscripts and original documents.My medical studies which I approached with just the minimum effort required to pass the subjects pale in comparison with the labor involved here in my view. And although I’m very excited and energized by this, I will think about this tomorrow. This may remain as a wish. In the meantime, I could work on my golf handicap. If my sign and the heavens are well aligned, I might break 90 without dropping a sweat.
Saturday, May 31, 2008
UPCM Computerization
Wellness, Wit & Winning at the Wynn
UPMASA 22nd Annual Grand Convention, July 1-5, 2007
The Johnny B. Pellicer Professorial Chair in Medical Informatics, UPCM
The recently concluded 22nd UPMASA AGC held at the fabulous Wynn Las Vegas was attended by over 600 registrants and over 300 University of the Philippines College of Medicine alumni. It is an annual ritual of bonding, earning CME (Continuing Medical Education) credits, and renewing allegiance and inspiration from the alma mater. One of the CME lecturers, Dr. Alvin Marcelo, UPCM ’99, TOYM Awardee in 2005, Director of the Medical Informatics Department in the UPCM and the head of the Buddy Works Philippine Tele-health Project, delivered the Johnny B. Pellicer Professorial Chair lecture on “ Integrating the Philippine Health Care System Through Tele-health”. This lecture excited a lot of the alumni. It was inspirational. It moved one alumna to direct her donation to the cause specifically. The project embodies all the ideals that a UPCM graduate holds, to offer the best of himself to serve the greatest need of the under-served Filipinos. This project brings to doctors to the barrios the capability to connect with UPCM and all its resources in the care of the local patient in remote areas of the Philippines. UPMASA has played a major role in its development.
Ten years ago, UPMASA visionaries headed by Wee Besa, UPCM ’67, who was the Computerization Committee Chair then and for several years after, doggedly persisted in convincing UPMASA leadership to support the computerization project in the UPCM. It was a struggle as 10 years ago the cost of internet connection was $550 per month, and a computer cost $1500 compared to today’s $400. Through graduated phases in the project UPMASA built the infra-structure slowly over a period of 4-5 years. The UPCM LAN Project distinguished the College to be the first in the Philippine academic community to link all its buildings and departments together with a broadband connection. Various components of UPMASA helped with the computerization. The Delaware Valley Chapter under Joe Pamintuan’s presidency in 1997 built the first Multi Disciplinary Laboratory used by the Basic Sciences Department where Anatomy, Physiology, and Biochemistry are taught and simulated computerized experiments replaced animal physiology experiments. Class ’71 donated the first 10 computers to the medical library and supported a subscription to Ovid/Medline database, through its EMERALDS Project. The Baltimore, Michigan, and Philadelphia Chapters held fund-raising events to support subsequent phases of the project. Delaware Valley Chapter has its Laptop project for needy undergraduates and post-residency physicians. It has extended its support to provide laptops to physicians in the Doctors to the Barrios program, an important piece in integrating the Philippine health system through Tele-health. Individual donors, Linda Gambito ’66, $50K, Nicki Nicdao ’67, $45K, and many alumni helped. The PEF (Permanent Endowment Fund) supports its maintenance by funding the salaries of 4 MIU employees and allocating an annual $17K budget for computer maintenance and replacement. Most recently, Class ’57, headed by its president Joe Peczon, had undertaken the computerization of the Orthopedics Department Health Records as its class Golden Jubilee project.
The Medical Informatics Unit in the UPCM developed a database system called CHITS (Community Health Information and Tracking System) in conjunction with the UPCM Community Health Department and the government of Pasay City where UPCM interns rotate. The software is in Tagalog, and barangay health workers are trained to enter data in the patient health registry. It asks, “ Ano ang pangalan mo?”, “Saan ka nakatira?”, etc. And true to Filipino ingenuity and frugality, MIU recycled old computers and introduced new technology and new skills to the barangay health workers. This Urban Community Based Health Program over the period of 3 years as a demonstration project, will ultimately reach 75,000 residents in 10 barangays, train 200 lay volunteer health workers, 100 community leaders and local government officials, and benefit 320 medical students, and 50 local health care professionals. UPMASA Southeast Chapter is supporting this project with $36K over the 3-year period. PEF donated audio-visual equipment for training health care workers. This project will lay down the infra-structure for the Pasay City government to provide basic health care to its constituents. CHITS has caught international attention as a model of medical informatics technology and was a finalist in the Stockholm Challenge in 2006.
Bringing the Tele-health technology to the barrios will require upgrade of the 10-year old infra-structure. When the cables were laid down in 1997, the MIU was young and had no experience in building a network. With subsequent increased demand, the LAN expanded without structure and order. The system had become congested and is constantly breaking down. It will require the services of a certified network engineer to evaluate and audit the system and recommend fixes. Upgrading into a wireless infrastructure with industry-grade connectivity is also indicated. The Dean had identified the UPCM Network Rehabilitation and Upgrade project as #1 priority. To have this system running smoothly will open up challenging opportunities for international collaboration in Telehealth. Already the Shriner’s Hospital in Hawaii is about to commence testing its system and many are waiting in the wings.
During the pre-convention activities, the Dean of UPCM Dr. Bert Roxas articulated his vision for the College in the next 25 years, in the Conversation with the Dean pre- 4 Doctor’s in Concert segment. He seeks to restore the UPCM in the forefront of technology, innovation, develop a research program, build academic excellence, nurture faculty and employees, develop sustainability, and produce graduates who are imbued with nationalism and social accountability, rendering service to his community and his country. When we entered the College of Medicine, we were all asked in our admission interviews why we wanted to be doctors. I bet we all answered because we wanted to serve humanity. We thought we’d train in the US and return and serve our country. But of course, life happened, and we got married, had children, acquired a mortgage and credit card bills, and we got stuck. We had good intentions and we wanted to somehow make things right. UPMASA allows us to give back to UPCM and PGH, and to the Filipino people. When we learn of how much colleagues like Dr. Alvin Marcelo make a difference because of the work they do, we become nostalgic of what it may have been for us if we traveled the other road. The next best thing then is to support UPMASA, because if we do, we help colleagues like Dr. Marcelo do the things that we would have liked to accomplish if we did our work back home. Ahh, C’est la vie. During this 22nd AGC, with its theme of Wellness, Wit & Winning at the Wynn, my Class ’67 had pledged to support the UPCM Network Rehabilitation and Upgrade Project as our Ruby Jubilee project. This is a winner!
UPMASA 22nd Annual Grand Convention, July 1-5, 2007
The Johnny B. Pellicer Professorial Chair in Medical Informatics, UPCM
The recently concluded 22nd UPMASA AGC held at the fabulous Wynn Las Vegas was attended by over 600 registrants and over 300 University of the Philippines College of Medicine alumni. It is an annual ritual of bonding, earning CME (Continuing Medical Education) credits, and renewing allegiance and inspiration from the alma mater. One of the CME lecturers, Dr. Alvin Marcelo, UPCM ’99, TOYM Awardee in 2005, Director of the Medical Informatics Department in the UPCM and the head of the Buddy Works Philippine Tele-health Project, delivered the Johnny B. Pellicer Professorial Chair lecture on “ Integrating the Philippine Health Care System Through Tele-health”. This lecture excited a lot of the alumni. It was inspirational. It moved one alumna to direct her donation to the cause specifically. The project embodies all the ideals that a UPCM graduate holds, to offer the best of himself to serve the greatest need of the under-served Filipinos. This project brings to doctors to the barrios the capability to connect with UPCM and all its resources in the care of the local patient in remote areas of the Philippines. UPMASA has played a major role in its development.
Ten years ago, UPMASA visionaries headed by Wee Besa, UPCM ’67, who was the Computerization Committee Chair then and for several years after, doggedly persisted in convincing UPMASA leadership to support the computerization project in the UPCM. It was a struggle as 10 years ago the cost of internet connection was $550 per month, and a computer cost $1500 compared to today’s $400. Through graduated phases in the project UPMASA built the infra-structure slowly over a period of 4-5 years. The UPCM LAN Project distinguished the College to be the first in the Philippine academic community to link all its buildings and departments together with a broadband connection. Various components of UPMASA helped with the computerization. The Delaware Valley Chapter under Joe Pamintuan’s presidency in 1997 built the first Multi Disciplinary Laboratory used by the Basic Sciences Department where Anatomy, Physiology, and Biochemistry are taught and simulated computerized experiments replaced animal physiology experiments. Class ’71 donated the first 10 computers to the medical library and supported a subscription to Ovid/Medline database, through its EMERALDS Project. The Baltimore, Michigan, and Philadelphia Chapters held fund-raising events to support subsequent phases of the project. Delaware Valley Chapter has its Laptop project for needy undergraduates and post-residency physicians. It has extended its support to provide laptops to physicians in the Doctors to the Barrios program, an important piece in integrating the Philippine health system through Tele-health. Individual donors, Linda Gambito ’66, $50K, Nicki Nicdao ’67, $45K, and many alumni helped. The PEF (Permanent Endowment Fund) supports its maintenance by funding the salaries of 4 MIU employees and allocating an annual $17K budget for computer maintenance and replacement. Most recently, Class ’57, headed by its president Joe Peczon, had undertaken the computerization of the Orthopedics Department Health Records as its class Golden Jubilee project.
The Medical Informatics Unit in the UPCM developed a database system called CHITS (Community Health Information and Tracking System) in conjunction with the UPCM Community Health Department and the government of Pasay City where UPCM interns rotate. The software is in Tagalog, and barangay health workers are trained to enter data in the patient health registry. It asks, “ Ano ang pangalan mo?”, “Saan ka nakatira?”, etc. And true to Filipino ingenuity and frugality, MIU recycled old computers and introduced new technology and new skills to the barangay health workers. This Urban Community Based Health Program over the period of 3 years as a demonstration project, will ultimately reach 75,000 residents in 10 barangays, train 200 lay volunteer health workers, 100 community leaders and local government officials, and benefit 320 medical students, and 50 local health care professionals. UPMASA Southeast Chapter is supporting this project with $36K over the 3-year period. PEF donated audio-visual equipment for training health care workers. This project will lay down the infra-structure for the Pasay City government to provide basic health care to its constituents. CHITS has caught international attention as a model of medical informatics technology and was a finalist in the Stockholm Challenge in 2006.
Bringing the Tele-health technology to the barrios will require upgrade of the 10-year old infra-structure. When the cables were laid down in 1997, the MIU was young and had no experience in building a network. With subsequent increased demand, the LAN expanded without structure and order. The system had become congested and is constantly breaking down. It will require the services of a certified network engineer to evaluate and audit the system and recommend fixes. Upgrading into a wireless infrastructure with industry-grade connectivity is also indicated. The Dean had identified the UPCM Network Rehabilitation and Upgrade project as #1 priority. To have this system running smoothly will open up challenging opportunities for international collaboration in Telehealth. Already the Shriner’s Hospital in Hawaii is about to commence testing its system and many are waiting in the wings.
During the pre-convention activities, the Dean of UPCM Dr. Bert Roxas articulated his vision for the College in the next 25 years, in the Conversation with the Dean pre- 4 Doctor’s in Concert segment. He seeks to restore the UPCM in the forefront of technology, innovation, develop a research program, build academic excellence, nurture faculty and employees, develop sustainability, and produce graduates who are imbued with nationalism and social accountability, rendering service to his community and his country. When we entered the College of Medicine, we were all asked in our admission interviews why we wanted to be doctors. I bet we all answered because we wanted to serve humanity. We thought we’d train in the US and return and serve our country. But of course, life happened, and we got married, had children, acquired a mortgage and credit card bills, and we got stuck. We had good intentions and we wanted to somehow make things right. UPMASA allows us to give back to UPCM and PGH, and to the Filipino people. When we learn of how much colleagues like Dr. Alvin Marcelo make a difference because of the work they do, we become nostalgic of what it may have been for us if we traveled the other road. The next best thing then is to support UPMASA, because if we do, we help colleagues like Dr. Marcelo do the things that we would have liked to accomplish if we did our work back home. Ahh, C’est la vie. During this 22nd AGC, with its theme of Wellness, Wit & Winning at the Wynn, my Class ’67 had pledged to support the UPCM Network Rehabilitation and Upgrade Project as our Ruby Jubilee project. This is a winner!
Thursday, April 17, 2008
Amongst Giants, California, the Beautiful
Amongst Giants, California the Beautiful
We had to get on a jet plane and fly 41/2 hours from Atlanta to walk under the spell of these giants in the pristine snow-covered Giant Forest of Sierra Nevada, in the Sequoia National Park, in California. My friend Mary has a conference in Palm Springs, and what fun would it be to take a side trip and catch the snow before they melt in spring and go snowshoeing among the majestic giant sequoia redwoods. Well, what we thought was a 2 hour drive from Palm Springs turned out to be over 6 hours. First of all we left Palm Springs without a map. We thought we could just get on the road and follow signs to the giants, surely everyone knows where they are, after all they are unique to this place, nowhere else in the world do they grow naturally. The car rental desk had only a Palm Springs map which showed us how to get out of Palm Springs and then we imagined how to go from there. The random routes we picked fortuitously gave us the full flavor of the California landscape. Outside of Palm Springs, I-10 offered the alien scenery of white wind turbines against blue skies and stark land . The San Gorgonio Pass is a wind tunnel, and there are 3000 windmills looking like they are made from the same polymer material as the Star Wars storm troopers, with their 3-prong blades reminiscent of the Mercedes-Benz symbol. These erect wind catchers are planted in rows 700 feet apart like an orange grove as far as the edge of the San Jacinto mountains or looming over the Coachella valley on top of ridges looking like sentinels from outer space. We get on I-215 and briefly on I-15 traveling on winding roads cradling the San Bernardino Mountain seeing nothing but the road and the bare mountainside. We turned towards Route 395 which cuts across the Mojave desert, with its miles and miles of shimmering road reflecting the glitter of the sun. We admire the fortitude of the Joshua trees surviving in that harsh climate. Then approaching Bakersfield on Route 58, we first passed Edwards AFB then it's suddenly green and fertile with orange groves heavy with ripe fruits ready for picking, many have fallen from the branch and lay rotting on the ground. There are rows of grape vines trained to grow formally on trellises, pastures of grazing cows, and cookie-cutter housing developments built smack in the middle of nowhere. Then we are in Tulare County, in the Sierra Nevada foothills. It is now dark. The climb to the Giant Forest was a mere 23 miles from the foothills but we didn't know it was a tightly wound road embracing the mountain with tight hairpin turns and convoluted spiral ascents that required intense focus and prayer especially in the darkness and there was no one else on the road but us and the prospect of a bear emerging from the forest hungry from its winter hibernation. It was unnerving to find out later that this road , Route 198, is carved overlooking deep ravines with snow embankments as high as 7 feet on its mountain side. It took us 2 ½ hours to reach Wuksachi Lodge at the 6500 ft. elevation, only to find out that the restaurant stopped serving meals 5 minutes ago, and the lodge had no room service and the nearest food joint is in the foothills, which we just left behind 2 ½ hours ago. But these were nice people and they called the kitchen, and they were only too happy to take our orders from their regular menu, and not to worry we can stay until dessert. We forgave the restaurant for touting in their brochure that they specialize in signature gourmet Sierra alpine cuisine. The snow covered forest outside our lodge window, the crisp 41 degree sunny weather and blue skies, the cedar scented air, and the friendly and charming lodge staff made up for the bland and limp pan seared red mountain trout, the unrecognizable meat loaf, the pasta special with Italian sausage and kalamata olives which I had to complain about because there were only traces of olives and 2 thin slices of sausage in the dish, so the chef was moved to send me a separate bowl of just sausage slices and olives, etc. Perhaps the restaurant is up to its advertised standards during their regular season which starts May 15. We booked in early April, which was at the end of the winter season and the resort activities shop had closed. There are no more rentals available for snowshoes, cross country skis and snow boots. The Crystal Cave with marble stalactites and stalagmites is closed and the road to Kings Canyon is off limits. But we can hike in the snow so we set out with excitement to see the big trees and headed to the Giant Forest Museum for information. We took pictures of the General Sherman Tree, the largest and oldest living thing at 52,508 cu. ft. and over 2000 years old. Wow! We asked directions to the Giant Forest trail, and set out on our own to be with the big trees. We underestimated the challenges of hiking on deep snow that had softened in 41 degree weather, and we didn't know that the trails are marked with symbols on trees and that trails are not alike. We were following a trails map to a grove of big trees named the Congress trail but we lost our direction. We found ourselves following footprints on the snow that are going up higher and higher which led us to a slippery narrow ledge against the mountain and we're looking down maybe over 200 feet of steep ravine. There were footprints so we figured it will lead somewhere so we continued, being careful to plant our boots so we will not slip. After rounding the side of the mountain we lost the trail signs and the footprints disappeared. We clambered over fallen trees hoping to pick up the trail but we fell thigh deep into the softening snow and suddenly it dawned on us that we could fall deeper into snow and we didn't know what's under them. And the fog was coming in and it was getting darker. I conceded to Mary's judgment that we should retrace our steps and return instead of continuing on trying to pick up the Congress trail from the Alta trail. When we emerged after 4 hours in the forest we realized that the Alta trail is an advanced trail, and we really had no business being there. From here on Mary didn't trust me and her decisions prevailed. So we just had safe walks which were boring, so in a way I was glad we got lost and didn't know what we're doing on that first day, after all all's well that ends well. Like everyone else we climbed the Moro Rock, 400 steps and 0.5 miles to the top of this granite monolith which was free of snow on that day so we went to the summit at 6725 ft., to view the vista of the Sierra Nevada range, the Giant Forest, the Kaweah River , the Kern Canyon, the great Western Divide, the whole breathtaking magnitude of it all. Mt. Whitney, the highest point in the US at 14,491 ft. crowns the Sierra. My brother Mike and Pilar joined us from Fresno on this climb and spent the day hiking with us and invited us to see the wonders of Yosemite, and he planned to return to Sequoia and Kings Canyon to camp in the summer.
After 4 days with natural wonders we're ready for the man-made wonders of Palm Springs. We took the quick route back on I-99 and I-5 , which eliminated the experience of the amazing and varied landscape of the place.
Approaching Palm Springs from I-10, we exit on Bob Hope Drive, then to Dinah Shore Drive to reach Westin Resort in Rancho Mirage. On one side of the road are gated luxury housing developments with multimillion price tags, imported shrubs and trees and grasses, and man-made lakes serving as hazards in verdant signature golf courses, over 150 of them in the area, absorbing thousands of gallons of water to maintain the greens. But not to worry. The Coachella Valley lies on top of an aquifer with bubbling hot springs and cool waters filtered from the melting alpine peaks of surrounding mountains. The Colorado River feeds a concrete aqueduct that irrigates the desert fields for produce worth over $500M annually. On the other side is Indian land. With only the road separating it from the lush settlement on one side, we see the authentic arid Sonoran desert landscape with the unrelenting sun, tumbleweeds, mesquite shrubs, and the multi-purpose creosote . We learned that the Cahuilla Indians of the region are the richest today because of 3 smart women who went to Washington DC during the homesteading era and did the paperwork to cement a deal that gave them 40% ownership of the desert when the railroad came calling to build. They lease the lands, own banks, businesses, and the casinos and the biggest, the Agua Caliente Casino Resort and Spa is currently undergoing a $300M expansion.
I couldn't wait to visit the San Andreas Fault, the cosmic point where 2 tectonic plates, the Pacific and the North American, slip and slide about 35 mm/year in opposite directions creating tremors in the earth or great earthquakes that can decimate Palm Springs and the rest of Southern California anytime between 1 year or 300 years, and can rearrange mountains and lakes and coastlines and push California towards Canada. I have imagined a deep dark chasm to the core of the earth, but instead the rupture is a ribbon of tropical oasis encircling the bottom of the San Jacinto mountains, with gurgling streams, palm trees, and many birds and creatures including rattlesnakes and tourists. For a different adventure we took the Palm Springs
Aerial Tram, the largest rotating tram car in the world, an engineering marvel constructed in the rugged Chino Canyon with the use of helicopters, and literally, a breathtaking ride to the summit of the San Jacinto Mountain, bringing us to 10,804 feet in 10 minutes and offering a spectacular 360 degree view of the entire Coachella Valley below. For the rest of the time we did our usual thing, play golf, tried Valley cuisine, attend corporate parties, and on the last day of Mary's conference, we had a novel treat. The corporate closing event was at the Empire Polo Grounds, one of 16 in the area, each grassy expanse the size of 9 football fields . We dressed up to attend an abbreviated polo match demonstration complete with an enthusiastic fast-talking announcer, got to meet the horses and their riders, then dined under Arabian-like tents with live music entertainment and pretended Prince Charles was in attendance and we were like ladies of the court and what not. A perfect fantasy in a town where streets are named after Hollywood stars and electricity bills are sky high to cool fancy homes built in the hottest and driest place in the USA. That's desert living.
On the flight back to Atlanta we were flying low in Skywest's 76-seater CRJ 100 to Salt Lake and beheld a panoramic and mesmerizing aerial view of the golden sands of the Sonora, the Algodones Dunes. I've never realized before that California is this beautiful!
We had to get on a jet plane and fly 41/2 hours from Atlanta to walk under the spell of these giants in the pristine snow-covered Giant Forest of Sierra Nevada, in the Sequoia National Park, in California. My friend Mary has a conference in Palm Springs, and what fun would it be to take a side trip and catch the snow before they melt in spring and go snowshoeing among the majestic giant sequoia redwoods. Well, what we thought was a 2 hour drive from Palm Springs turned out to be over 6 hours. First of all we left Palm Springs without a map. We thought we could just get on the road and follow signs to the giants, surely everyone knows where they are, after all they are unique to this place, nowhere else in the world do they grow naturally. The car rental desk had only a Palm Springs map which showed us how to get out of Palm Springs and then we imagined how to go from there. The random routes we picked fortuitously gave us the full flavor of the California landscape. Outside of Palm Springs, I-10 offered the alien scenery of white wind turbines against blue skies and stark land . The San Gorgonio Pass is a wind tunnel, and there are 3000 windmills looking like they are made from the same polymer material as the Star Wars storm troopers, with their 3-prong blades reminiscent of the Mercedes-Benz symbol. These erect wind catchers are planted in rows 700 feet apart like an orange grove as far as the edge of the San Jacinto mountains or looming over the Coachella valley on top of ridges looking like sentinels from outer space. We get on I-215 and briefly on I-15 traveling on winding roads cradling the San Bernardino Mountain seeing nothing but the road and the bare mountainside. We turned towards Route 395 which cuts across the Mojave desert, with its miles and miles of shimmering road reflecting the glitter of the sun. We admire the fortitude of the Joshua trees surviving in that harsh climate. Then approaching Bakersfield on Route 58, we first passed Edwards AFB then it's suddenly green and fertile with orange groves heavy with ripe fruits ready for picking, many have fallen from the branch and lay rotting on the ground. There are rows of grape vines trained to grow formally on trellises, pastures of grazing cows, and cookie-cutter housing developments built smack in the middle of nowhere. Then we are in Tulare County, in the Sierra Nevada foothills. It is now dark. The climb to the Giant Forest was a mere 23 miles from the foothills but we didn't know it was a tightly wound road embracing the mountain with tight hairpin turns and convoluted spiral ascents that required intense focus and prayer especially in the darkness and there was no one else on the road but us and the prospect of a bear emerging from the forest hungry from its winter hibernation. It was unnerving to find out later that this road , Route 198, is carved overlooking deep ravines with snow embankments as high as 7 feet on its mountain side. It took us 2 ½ hours to reach Wuksachi Lodge at the 6500 ft. elevation, only to find out that the restaurant stopped serving meals 5 minutes ago, and the lodge had no room service and the nearest food joint is in the foothills, which we just left behind 2 ½ hours ago. But these were nice people and they called the kitchen, and they were only too happy to take our orders from their regular menu, and not to worry we can stay until dessert. We forgave the restaurant for touting in their brochure that they specialize in signature gourmet Sierra alpine cuisine. The snow covered forest outside our lodge window, the crisp 41 degree sunny weather and blue skies, the cedar scented air, and the friendly and charming lodge staff made up for the bland and limp pan seared red mountain trout, the unrecognizable meat loaf, the pasta special with Italian sausage and kalamata olives which I had to complain about because there were only traces of olives and 2 thin slices of sausage in the dish, so the chef was moved to send me a separate bowl of just sausage slices and olives, etc. Perhaps the restaurant is up to its advertised standards during their regular season which starts May 15. We booked in early April, which was at the end of the winter season and the resort activities shop had closed. There are no more rentals available for snowshoes, cross country skis and snow boots. The Crystal Cave with marble stalactites and stalagmites is closed and the road to Kings Canyon is off limits. But we can hike in the snow so we set out with excitement to see the big trees and headed to the Giant Forest Museum for information. We took pictures of the General Sherman Tree, the largest and oldest living thing at 52,508 cu. ft. and over 2000 years old. Wow! We asked directions to the Giant Forest trail, and set out on our own to be with the big trees. We underestimated the challenges of hiking on deep snow that had softened in 41 degree weather, and we didn't know that the trails are marked with symbols on trees and that trails are not alike. We were following a trails map to a grove of big trees named the Congress trail but we lost our direction. We found ourselves following footprints on the snow that are going up higher and higher which led us to a slippery narrow ledge against the mountain and we're looking down maybe over 200 feet of steep ravine. There were footprints so we figured it will lead somewhere so we continued, being careful to plant our boots so we will not slip. After rounding the side of the mountain we lost the trail signs and the footprints disappeared. We clambered over fallen trees hoping to pick up the trail but we fell thigh deep into the softening snow and suddenly it dawned on us that we could fall deeper into snow and we didn't know what's under them. And the fog was coming in and it was getting darker. I conceded to Mary's judgment that we should retrace our steps and return instead of continuing on trying to pick up the Congress trail from the Alta trail. When we emerged after 4 hours in the forest we realized that the Alta trail is an advanced trail, and we really had no business being there. From here on Mary didn't trust me and her decisions prevailed. So we just had safe walks which were boring, so in a way I was glad we got lost and didn't know what we're doing on that first day, after all all's well that ends well. Like everyone else we climbed the Moro Rock, 400 steps and 0.5 miles to the top of this granite monolith which was free of snow on that day so we went to the summit at 6725 ft., to view the vista of the Sierra Nevada range, the Giant Forest, the Kaweah River , the Kern Canyon, the great Western Divide, the whole breathtaking magnitude of it all. Mt. Whitney, the highest point in the US at 14,491 ft. crowns the Sierra. My brother Mike and Pilar joined us from Fresno on this climb and spent the day hiking with us and invited us to see the wonders of Yosemite, and he planned to return to Sequoia and Kings Canyon to camp in the summer.
After 4 days with natural wonders we're ready for the man-made wonders of Palm Springs. We took the quick route back on I-99 and I-5 , which eliminated the experience of the amazing and varied landscape of the place.
Approaching Palm Springs from I-10, we exit on Bob Hope Drive, then to Dinah Shore Drive to reach Westin Resort in Rancho Mirage. On one side of the road are gated luxury housing developments with multimillion price tags, imported shrubs and trees and grasses, and man-made lakes serving as hazards in verdant signature golf courses, over 150 of them in the area, absorbing thousands of gallons of water to maintain the greens. But not to worry. The Coachella Valley lies on top of an aquifer with bubbling hot springs and cool waters filtered from the melting alpine peaks of surrounding mountains. The Colorado River feeds a concrete aqueduct that irrigates the desert fields for produce worth over $500M annually. On the other side is Indian land. With only the road separating it from the lush settlement on one side, we see the authentic arid Sonoran desert landscape with the unrelenting sun, tumbleweeds, mesquite shrubs, and the multi-purpose creosote . We learned that the Cahuilla Indians of the region are the richest today because of 3 smart women who went to Washington DC during the homesteading era and did the paperwork to cement a deal that gave them 40% ownership of the desert when the railroad came calling to build. They lease the lands, own banks, businesses, and the casinos and the biggest, the Agua Caliente Casino Resort and Spa is currently undergoing a $300M expansion.
I couldn't wait to visit the San Andreas Fault, the cosmic point where 2 tectonic plates, the Pacific and the North American, slip and slide about 35 mm/year in opposite directions creating tremors in the earth or great earthquakes that can decimate Palm Springs and the rest of Southern California anytime between 1 year or 300 years, and can rearrange mountains and lakes and coastlines and push California towards Canada. I have imagined a deep dark chasm to the core of the earth, but instead the rupture is a ribbon of tropical oasis encircling the bottom of the San Jacinto mountains, with gurgling streams, palm trees, and many birds and creatures including rattlesnakes and tourists. For a different adventure we took the Palm Springs
Aerial Tram, the largest rotating tram car in the world, an engineering marvel constructed in the rugged Chino Canyon with the use of helicopters, and literally, a breathtaking ride to the summit of the San Jacinto Mountain, bringing us to 10,804 feet in 10 minutes and offering a spectacular 360 degree view of the entire Coachella Valley below. For the rest of the time we did our usual thing, play golf, tried Valley cuisine, attend corporate parties, and on the last day of Mary's conference, we had a novel treat. The corporate closing event was at the Empire Polo Grounds, one of 16 in the area, each grassy expanse the size of 9 football fields . We dressed up to attend an abbreviated polo match demonstration complete with an enthusiastic fast-talking announcer, got to meet the horses and their riders, then dined under Arabian-like tents with live music entertainment and pretended Prince Charles was in attendance and we were like ladies of the court and what not. A perfect fantasy in a town where streets are named after Hollywood stars and electricity bills are sky high to cool fancy homes built in the hottest and driest place in the USA. That's desert living.
On the flight back to Atlanta we were flying low in Skywest's 76-seater CRJ 100 to Salt Lake and beheld a panoramic and mesmerizing aerial view of the golden sands of the Sonora, the Algodones Dunes. I've never realized before that California is this beautiful!
Wednesday, January 09, 2008
My Sugar Daddy
My Sugar Daddy
January 8, 2008
I finally got my alternate proof of age with the receipt of my baptismal certificate from the Philippines. When I first requested my birth certificate from the Philippines National Statistics Office, the Office of the Civil Registrar sent me an official document verifying that they have no record of birth of one Fiameta Rosa Ricafort Vargas. It took 6 months of back and forth transaction through a local representative before I can get proof that I do exist and that I was born on such and such date. That’s the only way my Sugar Daddy, Uncle Sam, will acknowledge me and my entitlement to lifetime support and dole out my social security retirement payments and qualify me for medical care through Medicare.
Since it took 6 months to submit documentation and Social Security only keeps an application open for 60 days, I was instructed to file a new application and show documentation in my nearest SS office, which is behind South DeKalb Mall, by the Post Office, near my work. So I hied ho to the site thinking I’ll be there for an hour, and I can return to work in a jiff. I confronted a mob scene, with all 36 chairs occupied in the small waiting chamber, and the rest of the multitude spilling out into the hallway and sitting or spread out on the floor. The lone person you can talk to is a policewoman stationed in a guard cubicle by the door, who is selectively mute when you approach, and merely points you to a counter marked, Take a Ticket. You press keys on a machine depending on what your business is with the SS office and it spits out the number. I was O638. The
office staff is behind glass windows which you cannot approach without the proper number. They were calling D237 on my arrival. There was no way to determine when you will be served. There was a young woman with her 2 elementary aged children who was there to change her name because she just got married, and she wanted to know if she can just leave her papers, and she was curtly told by the policewoman that she’d have to take a number to get her question answered. Another woman politely explained that she was there earlier and now she’s back with the documents needed and she only wanted to hand them to the staff who served her, and could she leave them, and she was told to take a number. She protested and the policewoman hushed her, which ignited the lady, and so she raised her voice and told the policewoman she has no right to talk to her like that, and that she was supposed to be of service to her and instead she’s just rude and unhelpful, etc. The room erupted in applause with murmurs of Hear! Hear! and Yeah, Amen. The policewoman was unmoved and the lady left in disgust, angry and spewing fire. I asked a lady near me and she said she’d been waiting there for 3 hours! I was determined to not leave empty-handed, figuring it would be just as crowded if I returned on another day, so I stayed put. My work kept calling me, and the policewoman in the cubicle glared at me and sent me out because talking on cellphones is not allowed. I managed to get a seat, but at 3:30 PM, the policewoman called everybody waiting outside to get in because she was closing the doors and the SS office is no longer admitting new customers. There were over 60 people crammed into that waiting area designed for 36, and there was no circulating air after she closed the doors. The customers are all African-Americans except a family who looked like they came from a Mideastern country, the Caucasian young woman with the children, a Hispanic woman, and myself. I felt strange, like I was in another country. I felt closed in for the men were huge and obese, many are limping, or swinging on crutches, there were several on motorized wheelchairs. There were many disabled children on wheelchairs or looking like they have congenital anomalies. The women similarly were obese, panting for breath, and their smell just filled the room. There was a group of young women in tight blue jeans and exposed cleavage, smacking gum and giggling, and I wondered what they’re doing there. I was thinking, most of these people are probably there to file for disability claims or SSI, and will get more out of SS than what they put in.
When my turn finally came after 2 hours, I was told that this contact was for screening purposes only, and I will have to wait until my name is called so a staff can take my application. I was suffocating in that room when my name was called at 4 PM, and I was told to go to window #7, in the back. Fortunately the young African-American staff who served me was very accommodating. I was there to reapply for Medicare part A only, since I’m still working full time and couldn’t apply for retirement benefits without being penalized, however I asked whether I can kill 2 birds with one stone since transacting business with them seems to be characterized by long waits. She said early application is only accepted 4 months before actual date of retirement and I will meet that requirement in February, but she will take my application now, and file it and activate it in February, if i don’t mind waiting for Medicare at the same time too, because she can do both together, but not one first and the other to follow. Oh brother, that’s government red tape for you. She informed me that I paid the maximum into SS since 1973, and I will get top benefits and quoted a sum just on the upside of $2K per month. I was grateful that she was well-informed about their procedures to be able to accommodate my request, and so my application is filed and ready to go in February.
Wow, I was thinking, how rich I will be, my Sugar Daddy!
January 8, 2008
I finally got my alternate proof of age with the receipt of my baptismal certificate from the Philippines. When I first requested my birth certificate from the Philippines National Statistics Office, the Office of the Civil Registrar sent me an official document verifying that they have no record of birth of one Fiameta Rosa Ricafort Vargas. It took 6 months of back and forth transaction through a local representative before I can get proof that I do exist and that I was born on such and such date. That’s the only way my Sugar Daddy, Uncle Sam, will acknowledge me and my entitlement to lifetime support and dole out my social security retirement payments and qualify me for medical care through Medicare.
Since it took 6 months to submit documentation and Social Security only keeps an application open for 60 days, I was instructed to file a new application and show documentation in my nearest SS office, which is behind South DeKalb Mall, by the Post Office, near my work. So I hied ho to the site thinking I’ll be there for an hour, and I can return to work in a jiff. I confronted a mob scene, with all 36 chairs occupied in the small waiting chamber, and the rest of the multitude spilling out into the hallway and sitting or spread out on the floor. The lone person you can talk to is a policewoman stationed in a guard cubicle by the door, who is selectively mute when you approach, and merely points you to a counter marked, Take a Ticket. You press keys on a machine depending on what your business is with the SS office and it spits out the number. I was O638. The
office staff is behind glass windows which you cannot approach without the proper number. They were calling D237 on my arrival. There was no way to determine when you will be served. There was a young woman with her 2 elementary aged children who was there to change her name because she just got married, and she wanted to know if she can just leave her papers, and she was curtly told by the policewoman that she’d have to take a number to get her question answered. Another woman politely explained that she was there earlier and now she’s back with the documents needed and she only wanted to hand them to the staff who served her, and could she leave them, and she was told to take a number. She protested and the policewoman hushed her, which ignited the lady, and so she raised her voice and told the policewoman she has no right to talk to her like that, and that she was supposed to be of service to her and instead she’s just rude and unhelpful, etc. The room erupted in applause with murmurs of Hear! Hear! and Yeah, Amen. The policewoman was unmoved and the lady left in disgust, angry and spewing fire. I asked a lady near me and she said she’d been waiting there for 3 hours! I was determined to not leave empty-handed, figuring it would be just as crowded if I returned on another day, so I stayed put. My work kept calling me, and the policewoman in the cubicle glared at me and sent me out because talking on cellphones is not allowed. I managed to get a seat, but at 3:30 PM, the policewoman called everybody waiting outside to get in because she was closing the doors and the SS office is no longer admitting new customers. There were over 60 people crammed into that waiting area designed for 36, and there was no circulating air after she closed the doors. The customers are all African-Americans except a family who looked like they came from a Mideastern country, the Caucasian young woman with the children, a Hispanic woman, and myself. I felt strange, like I was in another country. I felt closed in for the men were huge and obese, many are limping, or swinging on crutches, there were several on motorized wheelchairs. There were many disabled children on wheelchairs or looking like they have congenital anomalies. The women similarly were obese, panting for breath, and their smell just filled the room. There was a group of young women in tight blue jeans and exposed cleavage, smacking gum and giggling, and I wondered what they’re doing there. I was thinking, most of these people are probably there to file for disability claims or SSI, and will get more out of SS than what they put in.
When my turn finally came after 2 hours, I was told that this contact was for screening purposes only, and I will have to wait until my name is called so a staff can take my application. I was suffocating in that room when my name was called at 4 PM, and I was told to go to window #7, in the back. Fortunately the young African-American staff who served me was very accommodating. I was there to reapply for Medicare part A only, since I’m still working full time and couldn’t apply for retirement benefits without being penalized, however I asked whether I can kill 2 birds with one stone since transacting business with them seems to be characterized by long waits. She said early application is only accepted 4 months before actual date of retirement and I will meet that requirement in February, but she will take my application now, and file it and activate it in February, if i don’t mind waiting for Medicare at the same time too, because she can do both together, but not one first and the other to follow. Oh brother, that’s government red tape for you. She informed me that I paid the maximum into SS since 1973, and I will get top benefits and quoted a sum just on the upside of $2K per month. I was grateful that she was well-informed about their procedures to be able to accommodate my request, and so my application is filed and ready to go in February.
Wow, I was thinking, how rich I will be, my Sugar Daddy!
Wednesday, January 02, 2008
Walking for Breast Cancer
The Madhatters Send Metty to the Avon Breast Cancer 3-day Camp
You may have heard of the Avon fund-raiser. It’s now in its 3rd year in Atlanta and has raised millions for breast cancer worldwide together with 3-day walks in Los Angeles ,New York, Boston, Chicago, Washington DC, and San Francisco. The Winship Cancer Institute of Emory University and Grady Memorial Hospital received $15.3M from this fund last year. So it’s seems like a worthy cause considering I had a personal friend and medical school classmate who have succumbed to it and several friends are still fighting valiantly to conquer it, and yet some have triumphed and completely vanquished the disease, thanks to new treatments and understanding of the importance of early detection and education.
Well, I’m not much of a goody-2-shoes but walking 60 miles for 3 days from Lake Lanier to Atlanta and sleeping in tents at night and having catered meals and massage from volunteers and foot care from podiatrists and hot showers from a truck with all the complimentary Avon products you can use sounded like an adventure to me. So I signed up on the spot and only realized too late that walking my 3 miles on Buice Road does not even come a teeny bit close to walking 20 miles a day for 7 hours over hills and gravel and heaven knows what else.I hear that there’s a truck sent to comb the route at the end of the day to pick up wasted bodies by the roadside. What should one do? I signed up at Bally’s Fitness and now I’m pumping 10-lb weights and surviving 25 minutes on the cardio machines. Do you realize that it’s easy to squander away 1 ½ hours or more just doing the weight circuit, repeating ab curls and gasping at the cardio machines? Now walking 6 miles is a cinch, not to mention what I walk playing 18-holes on weekends. How many miles is a 5200 yard golf course driving off from the red tees? So I figure I can survive the walk on October 5-7 with probably nothing worse than blisters on my already bunion-deformed sorry feet, the legacy of miles covered making patient rounds in the halls of UP-PGH in 4-inch stilleto heels.
It turned out the physical preparation is the easy part. Again I found out too late that I need to raise at least $1900 to be able to have the privilege of walking 60 miles and torturing myself. Although I know I can stick up some of my rich friends and I’d get that $1900 in a blink it’s not fun, is it? Besides I got serious and I said I’d do this right , after all I’m already putting in tremendous physical effort . I might as well send the fundraiser message across, i.e., breast cancer awareness. So a light bulb flashed in my head, the Madhatters !
Now you are going to hear about the Madhatters. When they put on their hats they can do anything, but on one condition: they must have fun while doing it. So once again I fell into a rabbit hole one lazy afternoon and I dreamt I would have a party on my birthday and have an auction-fundraiser. This is how I saw it in my dream:
Before I leave this decade
I want to make a point
Attitude is what a growing girl must have
Getting better not feeling older
Is what I intend to serve
So I’m walking 60 miles for 3 days
You may have heard of the AVON walk
From the calm waters of Lake Lanier
The first steps begin
And the last rests in the bosom of Atlanta
In between are a thousand steps
And maybe blisters and bloodied feet
But first I must bring $1900
So hope can flourish for us
Who happens to get the B-disease
Breast cancer that is
Please come to my birthday party
Bear no gifts but bring something you already have
Someone’s junk maybe somebody’s treasure
Bidding for these will give everyone pleasure
And we’ll collect all the bids into a fund
To send me to the AVON 3-day camp
That would be the greatest birthday gift
And the knowledge that my friends
Have got the right stuff with ATTITUDE
So how will the Madhatters pull this off? First they met for high tea at the Four Seasons on 14th Street to figure out what to do with the hats they’d wear. The Whimsical Madhatter is I since I dreamed this all up and all the hats everyone will wear so everyone can help me make this for real. We have 2 Culinary Magical Madhatters and those are Nene and Eudy who will plan the menu and set up our table real nice. We have 2 Martha Stewart Wanna-Be Madhatter, Tess and Bonnie who will decorate the party space (which is my backyard) with originality and select a theme or motif. Our Party Madhatter is Gloria who will plan potions to serve so we’ll really have fun. We need 2 Money-Handler Madhatters Didi and Susan who will collect bids at the auction and fill out pledge forms and send them to the fund headquarters and endorse auction items to the highest bidder. Nene wears 2 hats but she took offense at the title of her other hat as it was originally the Hustler Madhatter who will be in charge of the auction together with Precy. They will make sure that the bidding is enthusiastic and everyone is involved and getting carried away. They were also asked to go to auction school to learn how to talk fast without breathing and to learn how to entice the audience to bid to their heart’s content. Nene thought that the title is contrary to her demure and sweet nature and she was adamant not to tarnish her reputation and flatten her coiffure with such unflattering title so I changed their title to Madhatter Scarlett. She and Precy are now happy and back into the fold. And last but not least Marites is the Commando Madhatter. She will plan completion time lines for everyone and make sure every Madhatter knows what she’s supposed to do and she’s the authority who during the party will organize the schedule of events and make them happen without a hitch.
We had a lovely afternoon sipping tea and scarfing the finger sandwiches. We were so hungry. By the way high tea at the Four Seasons is definitely a more divine experience than the Ritz. The Madhatters have spoken.
So folks if you get an invitation to my birthday party on August 25 we sure would like for you to come and have fun and share the adventure of 2000 friends who will walk from Lake Lanier to Atlanta on October 5-7, 60 miles 3 days, each one bringing $1900 so breast cancer will disappear from the face of the earth.
You may have heard of the Avon fund-raiser. It’s now in its 3rd year in Atlanta and has raised millions for breast cancer worldwide together with 3-day walks in Los Angeles ,New York, Boston, Chicago, Washington DC, and San Francisco. The Winship Cancer Institute of Emory University and Grady Memorial Hospital received $15.3M from this fund last year. So it’s seems like a worthy cause considering I had a personal friend and medical school classmate who have succumbed to it and several friends are still fighting valiantly to conquer it, and yet some have triumphed and completely vanquished the disease, thanks to new treatments and understanding of the importance of early detection and education.
Well, I’m not much of a goody-2-shoes but walking 60 miles for 3 days from Lake Lanier to Atlanta and sleeping in tents at night and having catered meals and massage from volunteers and foot care from podiatrists and hot showers from a truck with all the complimentary Avon products you can use sounded like an adventure to me. So I signed up on the spot and only realized too late that walking my 3 miles on Buice Road does not even come a teeny bit close to walking 20 miles a day for 7 hours over hills and gravel and heaven knows what else.I hear that there’s a truck sent to comb the route at the end of the day to pick up wasted bodies by the roadside. What should one do? I signed up at Bally’s Fitness and now I’m pumping 10-lb weights and surviving 25 minutes on the cardio machines. Do you realize that it’s easy to squander away 1 ½ hours or more just doing the weight circuit, repeating ab curls and gasping at the cardio machines? Now walking 6 miles is a cinch, not to mention what I walk playing 18-holes on weekends. How many miles is a 5200 yard golf course driving off from the red tees? So I figure I can survive the walk on October 5-7 with probably nothing worse than blisters on my already bunion-deformed sorry feet, the legacy of miles covered making patient rounds in the halls of UP-PGH in 4-inch stilleto heels.
It turned out the physical preparation is the easy part. Again I found out too late that I need to raise at least $1900 to be able to have the privilege of walking 60 miles and torturing myself. Although I know I can stick up some of my rich friends and I’d get that $1900 in a blink it’s not fun, is it? Besides I got serious and I said I’d do this right , after all I’m already putting in tremendous physical effort . I might as well send the fundraiser message across, i.e., breast cancer awareness. So a light bulb flashed in my head, the Madhatters !
Now you are going to hear about the Madhatters. When they put on their hats they can do anything, but on one condition: they must have fun while doing it. So once again I fell into a rabbit hole one lazy afternoon and I dreamt I would have a party on my birthday and have an auction-fundraiser. This is how I saw it in my dream:
Before I leave this decade
I want to make a point
Attitude is what a growing girl must have
Getting better not feeling older
Is what I intend to serve
So I’m walking 60 miles for 3 days
You may have heard of the AVON walk
From the calm waters of Lake Lanier
The first steps begin
And the last rests in the bosom of Atlanta
In between are a thousand steps
And maybe blisters and bloodied feet
But first I must bring $1900
So hope can flourish for us
Who happens to get the B-disease
Breast cancer that is
Please come to my birthday party
Bear no gifts but bring something you already have
Someone’s junk maybe somebody’s treasure
Bidding for these will give everyone pleasure
And we’ll collect all the bids into a fund
To send me to the AVON 3-day camp
That would be the greatest birthday gift
And the knowledge that my friends
Have got the right stuff with ATTITUDE
So how will the Madhatters pull this off? First they met for high tea at the Four Seasons on 14th Street to figure out what to do with the hats they’d wear. The Whimsical Madhatter is I since I dreamed this all up and all the hats everyone will wear so everyone can help me make this for real. We have 2 Culinary Magical Madhatters and those are Nene and Eudy who will plan the menu and set up our table real nice. We have 2 Martha Stewart Wanna-Be Madhatter, Tess and Bonnie who will decorate the party space (which is my backyard) with originality and select a theme or motif. Our Party Madhatter is Gloria who will plan potions to serve so we’ll really have fun. We need 2 Money-Handler Madhatters Didi and Susan who will collect bids at the auction and fill out pledge forms and send them to the fund headquarters and endorse auction items to the highest bidder. Nene wears 2 hats but she took offense at the title of her other hat as it was originally the Hustler Madhatter who will be in charge of the auction together with Precy. They will make sure that the bidding is enthusiastic and everyone is involved and getting carried away. They were also asked to go to auction school to learn how to talk fast without breathing and to learn how to entice the audience to bid to their heart’s content. Nene thought that the title is contrary to her demure and sweet nature and she was adamant not to tarnish her reputation and flatten her coiffure with such unflattering title so I changed their title to Madhatter Scarlett. She and Precy are now happy and back into the fold. And last but not least Marites is the Commando Madhatter. She will plan completion time lines for everyone and make sure every Madhatter knows what she’s supposed to do and she’s the authority who during the party will organize the schedule of events and make them happen without a hitch.
We had a lovely afternoon sipping tea and scarfing the finger sandwiches. We were so hungry. By the way high tea at the Four Seasons is definitely a more divine experience than the Ritz. The Madhatters have spoken.
So folks if you get an invitation to my birthday party on August 25 we sure would like for you to come and have fun and share the adventure of 2000 friends who will walk from Lake Lanier to Atlanta on October 5-7, 60 miles 3 days, each one bringing $1900 so breast cancer will disappear from the face of the earth.
Supportive Living
Supportive Living: The Commune
Musings of a Whimsical Mad Hatter
Our lives are at a crossroad. We are mulling over ideas about retirement, life style changes ,re-evaluating core values to guide our vision for our future, anguishing about decisions/choices and exploring ways to make things happen. Oh boy! Do wereally get this thoughtful and analytical about how we do things or don’t we just muddle through and try to make sense of what’s happening to us and make the best of or who knows maybe make worse of what life has given us. These days I feel like a muddler more than a planner but the other day Bonnie and I were addressing this and we got all excited about a plan!
The new millennium is trite now the way everyone had made such dramatic expectations from entering the new century but nevertheless it got us thinking about a V----s Millennium Convergence. And the reunion of the siblings bring the realization that we are all getting along in years, and of course we have been aware of how mama is getting older and had raised the question, what shall we do if mama gets sick? We have not inquired of mama if she has contingency plans about getting sick but certainly we assumed it will be our problem. Can we assume it will be others problem if any of us get sick or get very old? Maybe it is my depressed state at this point but I cannot think of anyone who I believe care enough about me to make my infirmity his/her problem. I do not look to my children to be obliged to care for me for love or duty for as the prophet said our children belong to tomorrow and cannot tarry with yesterday. I cannot look to a husband for care for as we know a marriage can disenchant or end in divorce, and neither can I look to friends for that’s just not expected of friendships. But I think like a Sicilian, I can understand the godfather’s affirmation of family and blood relatedness. Blood is thicker than water is truer to me now more than ever. So I’m convinced that when all is said and done we as siblings have the most vital bonding and we should look to each other for support and care. We are the original family and we started out as children living together and it would not be inconceivable to see ourselves in the dusk of our lives reuniting and living together again, experiencing the original togetherness as a family sharing the same blood coursing through our veins.
When I started out I have all sorts of dreams. My soul actually craves more adventure and passion than what my competencies and opportunities can provide. I constantly hunger for new experiences, to know more, to try new things, to taste whatever is exotic ,even strange. I have said my motto is, unless potentially fatal by all common sense deduction, “I’ll try anything once.” I want to be amongst kindred spirits. But I’m also enamored of history. During this VMC we are looking at our family history and we are getting desperate because mama is the only living link and we have not mined her knowledge yet of our family history. History helps put our present in perspective. It is playing out in very familiar form, the more things change, the more they stay the same. Our brilliant plan, Bonnie’s and mine, given birth during a moment of madness, in retrospect, is not original at all. It’s as old as the sands around Virac and Pasacao.
This all began when the neighbors began circulating a protest for a zoning request on Buice Rd. to build a dozen houses on 31/2 acres. Why that’s the acreage I have on our property. I never realized you could put that many houses on 3 acres, although I had a dream when we built our house here that I’ll build a gingerbread Victorian guest cottage in the woods behind the tennis court and when the kids have their families and we’re retired we’ll pass along the big house to one of them, most likely Jay-Jay, and Johnny and I will move into the guest house. Now, that’s exactly how mama and papa planned it when they built the apartment complex on Ateneo Ave. They envisioned keeping us all together, just like papa’s generation of Vargases have that family compound in Virac. Without thinking about this I had the same ideas for our own children. You know how these kind of plans turn out. No self-respecting child wants to live with parents in the childhood homestead, the children all want to see and live in the world.
I had envisioned keeping this house, with romantic family fantasies of being a permanent place to come home to, for the children and grandchildren, a solid, reliable physical haven, which will always be there no matter where they’ve been in the world. But no one is interested. Not the children towards the parental home.
But it’s a completely different matter for siblings in the empty nest phase of their lives to regroup and live together again. We are all looking for a place to build to retire to, we have already broached the idea of buying property adjacent to one another or at least be closer to each other, this is where the light bulb switched. I can subdivide my property into 5 or 6 building lots, get an architect or a developer to draw a really nice cluster housing plan with shared common areas like the swimming pool, transform the tennis court into a shuffleboard area or something, or have a lawn installed for croquet or for the grandkids to romp about, have an area for flower and vegetable cultivation, landscape with footpaths around the various cottages, for I see the cluster homes as cottages maybe Victorian or farmhouse style in feel with front porches and open plans with one-level living with master on the main floor and maybe a loft with extra bedroom or two for the kids and grandkids when visiting. Each sibling will own his/her own cottage and build according to the master development plan. The big house will be the center of shared family activities. I am envisioning that we will have evening dinners together and on certain nights may dress nice, have guests, we’ll have music or movies or mahjong. Holidays we may have grand reunions with our kids and grandkids. We’ll hire a cook and housekeeper and groundskeeper and assess each family a sort of club association fee. We can form a corporation and have bylaws to regulate our fiscal behavior.We’ll elect officers and have quarterly business meetings since we will surely have a complicated financial relationship which we would not want to interfere with our personal relationships. And being a corporation, we can start entrepreneurships. There’s so much talent and ideas for a business between us siblings, I don’t see why we shouldn’t pursue this in retirement. Just think how exciting this would be. I’m also thinking we can plan vacations together and get special group discounts. All these joint activities does not preclude personal time and privacy as we all have our own private homes and it’s up to us to decide whether to have company or enjoy solitude. As siblings age and retire they will be joining this group and eventually all of us will be back in the fold. Come to think of it this may also address our dilemma about mama. She can join us in this venture and she will be the first to build a cottage since she’ll be the first to qualify for supportive living. As we start getting infirm, we can add a nurse to our employees. We can stay in our homestead until we die, no one among us has to go to a nursing home and no one among us has to put any pressure on our kids to take care of us. When we die the subdivided property can be passed on to our heirs, then they can decide for themselves. You know, Martha Stewart is not the only one who can invent a life style and profit from it.
Musings of a Whimsical Mad Hatter
Our lives are at a crossroad. We are mulling over ideas about retirement, life style changes ,re-evaluating core values to guide our vision for our future, anguishing about decisions/choices and exploring ways to make things happen. Oh boy! Do wereally get this thoughtful and analytical about how we do things or don’t we just muddle through and try to make sense of what’s happening to us and make the best of or who knows maybe make worse of what life has given us. These days I feel like a muddler more than a planner but the other day Bonnie and I were addressing this and we got all excited about a plan!
The new millennium is trite now the way everyone had made such dramatic expectations from entering the new century but nevertheless it got us thinking about a V----s Millennium Convergence. And the reunion of the siblings bring the realization that we are all getting along in years, and of course we have been aware of how mama is getting older and had raised the question, what shall we do if mama gets sick? We have not inquired of mama if she has contingency plans about getting sick but certainly we assumed it will be our problem. Can we assume it will be others problem if any of us get sick or get very old? Maybe it is my depressed state at this point but I cannot think of anyone who I believe care enough about me to make my infirmity his/her problem. I do not look to my children to be obliged to care for me for love or duty for as the prophet said our children belong to tomorrow and cannot tarry with yesterday. I cannot look to a husband for care for as we know a marriage can disenchant or end in divorce, and neither can I look to friends for that’s just not expected of friendships. But I think like a Sicilian, I can understand the godfather’s affirmation of family and blood relatedness. Blood is thicker than water is truer to me now more than ever. So I’m convinced that when all is said and done we as siblings have the most vital bonding and we should look to each other for support and care. We are the original family and we started out as children living together and it would not be inconceivable to see ourselves in the dusk of our lives reuniting and living together again, experiencing the original togetherness as a family sharing the same blood coursing through our veins.
When I started out I have all sorts of dreams. My soul actually craves more adventure and passion than what my competencies and opportunities can provide. I constantly hunger for new experiences, to know more, to try new things, to taste whatever is exotic ,even strange. I have said my motto is, unless potentially fatal by all common sense deduction, “I’ll try anything once.” I want to be amongst kindred spirits. But I’m also enamored of history. During this VMC we are looking at our family history and we are getting desperate because mama is the only living link and we have not mined her knowledge yet of our family history. History helps put our present in perspective. It is playing out in very familiar form, the more things change, the more they stay the same. Our brilliant plan, Bonnie’s and mine, given birth during a moment of madness, in retrospect, is not original at all. It’s as old as the sands around Virac and Pasacao.
This all began when the neighbors began circulating a protest for a zoning request on Buice Rd. to build a dozen houses on 31/2 acres. Why that’s the acreage I have on our property. I never realized you could put that many houses on 3 acres, although I had a dream when we built our house here that I’ll build a gingerbread Victorian guest cottage in the woods behind the tennis court and when the kids have their families and we’re retired we’ll pass along the big house to one of them, most likely Jay-Jay, and Johnny and I will move into the guest house. Now, that’s exactly how mama and papa planned it when they built the apartment complex on Ateneo Ave. They envisioned keeping us all together, just like papa’s generation of Vargases have that family compound in Virac. Without thinking about this I had the same ideas for our own children. You know how these kind of plans turn out. No self-respecting child wants to live with parents in the childhood homestead, the children all want to see and live in the world.
I had envisioned keeping this house, with romantic family fantasies of being a permanent place to come home to, for the children and grandchildren, a solid, reliable physical haven, which will always be there no matter where they’ve been in the world. But no one is interested. Not the children towards the parental home.
But it’s a completely different matter for siblings in the empty nest phase of their lives to regroup and live together again. We are all looking for a place to build to retire to, we have already broached the idea of buying property adjacent to one another or at least be closer to each other, this is where the light bulb switched. I can subdivide my property into 5 or 6 building lots, get an architect or a developer to draw a really nice cluster housing plan with shared common areas like the swimming pool, transform the tennis court into a shuffleboard area or something, or have a lawn installed for croquet or for the grandkids to romp about, have an area for flower and vegetable cultivation, landscape with footpaths around the various cottages, for I see the cluster homes as cottages maybe Victorian or farmhouse style in feel with front porches and open plans with one-level living with master on the main floor and maybe a loft with extra bedroom or two for the kids and grandkids when visiting. Each sibling will own his/her own cottage and build according to the master development plan. The big house will be the center of shared family activities. I am envisioning that we will have evening dinners together and on certain nights may dress nice, have guests, we’ll have music or movies or mahjong. Holidays we may have grand reunions with our kids and grandkids. We’ll hire a cook and housekeeper and groundskeeper and assess each family a sort of club association fee. We can form a corporation and have bylaws to regulate our fiscal behavior.We’ll elect officers and have quarterly business meetings since we will surely have a complicated financial relationship which we would not want to interfere with our personal relationships. And being a corporation, we can start entrepreneurships. There’s so much talent and ideas for a business between us siblings, I don’t see why we shouldn’t pursue this in retirement. Just think how exciting this would be. I’m also thinking we can plan vacations together and get special group discounts. All these joint activities does not preclude personal time and privacy as we all have our own private homes and it’s up to us to decide whether to have company or enjoy solitude. As siblings age and retire they will be joining this group and eventually all of us will be back in the fold. Come to think of it this may also address our dilemma about mama. She can join us in this venture and she will be the first to build a cottage since she’ll be the first to qualify for supportive living. As we start getting infirm, we can add a nurse to our employees. We can stay in our homestead until we die, no one among us has to go to a nursing home and no one among us has to put any pressure on our kids to take care of us. When we die the subdivided property can be passed on to our heirs, then they can decide for themselves. You know, Martha Stewart is not the only one who can invent a life style and profit from it.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)