Monthly Archives: October 2023

Expanding Home, Day 13: Two Family Circles

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Posted by on in Assistance, children, collaborating, Community, Family, Inner Struggles, Matters of Faith, Personal Values, Service Activities, Social, Spiritual, Striving, Travel

October 22, 2023, Paranaque- Traffic in Manila, on Sunday, is about what one would expect: Vehicles can actually move at more than 23 kmh. I got to the Baha’i National Center, in the Santa Ana section of Manila, in less than an hour. I was the first visitor to arrive, and was again warmly greeted by the residents. After a fashion, nearly fifteen other people showed for the devotional, we shared prayers, news from around the Philippines and refreshments. A feisty child alternated between boisterousness and reverence. Several of the Regional Council members were in and out of their own meeting, to dovetail with participating in the devotional.

Gathering at Baha’i National Center of the Philippines, Santa Ana, Manila

It all felt like a gathering at Home Base. It felt like home, and so it will be for the week ahead, especially once I transfer to University College Residences, the redundantly-named, but compact and ecologically-state of the art accommodations, a stone’s-throw from the Center. The ladies who live at the Center, serving as hosts and caretakers, are like younger sisters. The young man who is serving in the Philippine Navy is a mirror of my Navy-veteran son. The parents of the rambunctious little boy could be one of my nephews and nieces-in-law, whose son has gone from unruliness to morphing into a sensitive little man, compassionate about animal welfare and the well-being of his grandfather. The universality of the Baha’i Faith is always borne out by its members, as ordinary, and as flawed, as we sometimes are. It is borne out, as well, by our adherence to the principle: The Oneness of Mankind.

There is something of that, too, in how I have come to see the little community of Airplane Village, the collection of shops, restaurants, small hotels and a bar, that sit opposite the huge operation that is Terminal One, the primary International Terminal of Ninoy Aquino International Airport. The terminal itself has the feel of a family operation. In going back and forth between hotel and the terminal’s ATM (the Philippines is largely, mostly, a cash economy) I have come to be a familiar face to the gate guards and security people-in a good way. They have shown me the shortcuts to and from AV, and are not concerned about checking my passport each and every time I enter the facility.

Going back and forth between Airplane Village and Santa Ana’s Barangay 176, the past few days, is also a mirror of my larger life-somehow managing to fit in at Home Base, with my biological family and with people who make up extended family-across North America and now, in a real sense, across the ocean.

The Earth itself is becoming one big home.

Expanding Home, Day 12: A Toe In The Water

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Posted by on in collaborating, Community, Inspiration, Matters of Faith, Personal Values, Service Activities, Social, Spiritual, Striving, Travel

October 21, 2023, Paranaque- The driver seemed near the end of his rope: “How can you be staying someplace, and not know the address?” The equally flustered passenger was asking self the same question, but all the e-mails from the hotel gave a phone number and e-mail address, but no physical location. The gate guard at the airport knew the answer-“Sir, the rider cannot know the street address, because there is only a general location. Kindly drive around the edge of the terminal and turn left. You will both see a familiar face: Colonel Sanders. There is where the hotel is.” Driver followed the directions, the passenger sighed to self, paid the driver and went off to enjoy an evening of professional karaoke singers, playing all the hits they knew. It was a fine Saturday night, after all.

I spent the better part of the day with three or four Filipino Baha’is, at the National Center/South Luzon Regional Office. We also scouted my residence for the coming week, which is close to the office and will allow me to establish the bonds that are as much my goal for this journey, as the visit, three days ago, with my sponsored youth was. I will thus have put a toe in the water, figuratively speaking. By the end of my time here, the Philippines will seem as much like home as Arizona, California, New Mexico, Colorado,Carson City, Texas, Pennsylvania, New England, Atlantic Canada, the Pacific Northwest, Brittany and South Korea. Home is definitely expanding.

I was not always certain that I would take to the tropics, the same way that my temperate mindset has reveled in lands with four seasons. It is, however, more a sense of the heart being touched by the gentleness, overall, of people here-much as the First Nations peoples and the farm folk around North America, and the Celts of Brittany, have won that heart. Truth be known, I barely feel the intense heat. Sunscreen and a good hat take care of the physical aspect. I am, otherwise, mainly attending to conversations, some of them fairly deep, with both the Baha’i friends and people I have met here and in Bicol.

What this means for the years immediately ahead remains to be seen. Family will always be my primary responsibility, after service to Baha’u’llah. Being told, though, that I am always welcome here, means a lot.

Philippine Baha’i National Center-Main Library
Entrance to Baha’i National Center of the Philippines, Santa Ana District, near Manila

Expanding Home, Day 11: Observations On A Tight Neighbourhood

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Posted by on in Assistance, children, collaborating, Community, Entertainment, Inspiration, Personal Values, Social, Striving, Travel

October 20, 2023, Paranaque- The lady busily puttered about the courtyard and small garden, seemingly unaware of anything other than what was in front of her. To me, watching from a third story window, with appreciation of her diligent work in the afternoon heat, it was reassuring. The people of this largely commercial neighbourhood still had residences scattered among the businesses, and they took care of these, with dignity and a goodly amount of pride. A humble, dignified, graceful woman was, at that point in time, the most beautiful person on Earth.

Four small boys scampered about, in and out of the parking lot, around the four restaurants, three car rental agencies, a bar and the hotel where I am staying. They split themselves up, each one stationed in front of a restaurant, steering clear of the hotel-and of the bar, where the bouncer would have gladly given them a forceful heave-ho. Some realities are understood, intuitively, even by the desperate- especially by the desperate. I sat in Pablo’s, enjoying the pipes of a group of four men who were engaged in karaoke. I was invited to join in, on the English-language songs, but spared them my croaking voice. Listening to their many tunes, in English and in Tagalog, was a splendid way to while away the evening-for me, and for the little one outside, whose nose was pressed to the window. The food was also good.

I do not give money to beggars, no matter how old or young. A few years ago, as you may recall, I tried supporting a man who I thought was an honest entrepreneur, only to have him rebuff my suggestions and up his monetary demands. Lesson learned, and cord cut. The kids are engaging, and appealing-but I know where the money ends up, and it’s not in their pockets. The minder, if he or she could even be called that, waits at a gathering point, collection bag in hand.

Here in the Manila Airport Hotel, there is a constant buzz of guests, hotel staff, cafe workers, travel agents, masseuses and car rental agents. Lines form at the hotel desk and at the cafe counter-and are diligently honoured. No one in the Philippines seems to vaunt self over those in front of the line. I have been in places where that is not the case, but in this country, there is a fair amount of decorum-even on the busy streets, few are they who throw their weight around in traffic-and they are put in their places very quickly, either by the police or by other drivers.

I like this tight little neighbourhood, and will miss it, at least a bit, when I transfer to Santa Ana, nearer to Manila Proper, next week.

Expanding Home, Day 10: Sojourner’s Progress

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Posted by on in Assistance, collaborating, Community, distraction issues, Family, Inner Struggles, Inspiration, Personal goals, Personal Values, Social, Striving, Travel

October 19, 2023, Paranaque, National Capital Region, PI- Richard, a tuk-tuk driver, taught me my first word of Tagalog: Salamat, which means “Thank you”. There is no more essential word or phrase to learn, in any language. Filipinos are fastidious in saying “Thank you so much”, and I have followed suit in that regard. Now, Salamat po, the same thing in Tagalog, may be offered, and I will learn other words and phrases, as the days go by.

Several of us who passed through security, at Naga Regional Airport, this morning, were screened twice-once upon entry to the terminal and again upstairs. This appears to be the Marcos Administration’s response to the terror attacks in Israel, and I am grateful to the government for not taking any chances. Furthermore, mobile food vendors have been moved out of the terminal and flights are cleared for boarding, as soon as all passengers are on board-regardless of whether the schedule calls for waiting until a prescribed time.

As a result, we got back to Aquino International Airport 27 minutes early. I was given special permission to take a shuttle bus from Terminal 4 to Terminal 1, as Manila Airport Hotel is “within the periphery” of the latter terminal. It pays to be known as respectful and cooperative, when the authorities are reasonable in their procedures. Once at terminal 1, I made the five-minute walk down the outside ramp, across the parking lots and over to the hotel. Check-in was immediate, and so was my shower.

Comparing this journey to my last solo trip across an ocean-to Europe, in 2014, I can say that the foibles and floops have both gone down, in frequency and severity. I have not done anything that left a bad impression, nor have acted like a bull in a china shop-this time. Most of this can be ascribed to the shedding of much grief that remained after Penny’s passing. It is also from having learned from mistakes made in Europe and taking care to be more measured and careful in my day-to-day interactions. Then again, nine years of life have had a maturing effect, in and of themselves. Even the brief, family-centered visit to South Korea, in 2019, had moments when I felt rushed, and had to slow myself down. I am just calmer now, in any event.

This trip is a dry run, to see if I am able to handle the thinking on one’s feet that come with travel in an emerging nation. So far, so good.

Expanding Home, Day 9: The Second Homage

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Posted by on in Assistance, children, collaborating, Community, Hiking and Nature, Historical, Inspiration, Personal Values, Service Activities, Social, Spiritual, Striving, Travel

October 18, 2023, Daet– Today was the first of two up and out days: I needed to get to the office of Children International, in a city somewhat south of here, by noon at the latest. So, onto the Naga-bound van it was. Thankfully, I only had my small bag, with journal and prayer book, so I took up little space.

The ride to Naga was easy enough. Van drivers tend to drive fast, are able to tail-gate, without seeming obnoxious about it-(Try that in North America, and see what happens.)-and get to their destinations more quickly than the clean, but hamstrung, buses. I was dealing with runny sunblock, and it would be a while before I could flush my left eye out properly. I made do with closing my eyes and got a cup of coffee, once at Bicol Central Station, in Naga. Right after that, a man came up to me and said I was to follow him to the bus that was headed to the town where CI is located. I don’t know how he knew I was headed there, but no matter-I followed and boarded the correct bus. It took 3 1/2 hours, and I was in communication with CI reps, the entire time. (They did not know I was on the bus, so the theory that I may have been under their surveillance does not jibe.)

At any rate, I met the Children International representative at the bus station, was taken to their offices and met several of the staff, before meeting up with my sponsored youth and his mother. We then went to a Biggs Diner (a Filipino chain), in the city’s gleaming, modern shopping mall, and enjoyed a fine lunch. Then, we went to a department store, and he picked out his gift from me-a colourful pair of basketball shoes. This fulfills a long-time dream of his, as he loves basketball and is in a youth league.

The group of us then got back in the van, and drove to Cagsawa Historical Site. Here, there are the ruins of a church that was destroyed by lava, from Mount Mayon, in 1872. It seems the 1870s and ’80s were an especially active period for Pacific Rim volcanic activity: Krakatao’s seismic eruption took place in 1883.

Mount Mayon, eastern Bicol
The bell tower of Cagsawa’s church. It is the sole structure left standing, from the 1872 lava flow.

After this, I bid farewell to my sponsored youth and to the CI staff. The long bus ride back to Naga went past Mount Asog, nearly an hour due north of Mount Mayon. It, too, was an active volcano in the 19th Century.

Mount Asog (Mount Iriga), Camarines Sur Province

We kept on riding, into the late afternoon, and past the departure of the last bus to Daet. As I would have been the sole passenger, it was just as well. I found a taxi driver who was willing to make the trip-for a reasonable out-and-back fare. By 9:30, I was safely back in Daet and walked the 1 km distance from the Catholic hospital to Mirasol Residences, mostly to stretch, after being seated for 7 1/2 hours.

‘To whom much is given, much is expected’. I will rest well tonight.

Expanding Home, Day 8: The Eclipse’s Wake

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Posted by on in animal and plant life, Assistance, collaborating, Community, Hiking and Nature, Historical, Inspiration, Personal Values, Social, Striving, Travel

October 17, 2023, Daet, Camarines Norte- The officious, almost Parisienne, server saw me stirring the meat on my Kuril (Grill), using chopsticks. We have gotten into that habit, at Korean restaurants in the U.S. That would not stand, here at Golden Baboy. She marched over, took the pair of tongs out of the utensil can and said “Here, sir!”. I got with the program and things went well between the house and me after that.

Errands– I had two main tasks to complete, before embarking on my own march to the sea. Z’s Laundry was amenable to taking care of my small load, though it was under their customary minimum. Filipinos aren’t always fastidious. The next was to purchase a hat, as my sun hat is sitting-where else, in the back of Sportage, in San Diego. I also needed a pair of sunglasses, the last of which were left behind, God knows where. So, a stop at 101 Department Store was next on the list. I left my little tote bag with the “personal property guard” and went upstairs to find a nice little golf hat and a pair of wrap-around sunglasses. I was ready for the afternoon. Oh, and while I was at 101, there was a small high school parade, celebrating athletic excellence. An older man told me not to take any photos, but the kids shouted him down.

Daet’s teens on parade.

Snafu-Every ATM, it seems has its idiosyncrasies. In the 7-11 Store, near the Provincial Capitol, the cash dispenser is recessed, so thieves can’t reach over and grab the cash from an unsuspecting patron. There are fewer thieves around, since the Duterte days of Law and Order, but the system stays in place. I am used to the top dispensing ATMs, and so was initially under the impression that the machine just failed to give me the cash, and reported this to the clerk-who just smiled, came over to the ATM and got me to do a smaller transaction, showing me the recessed dispenser. She then said I should go to the BDO Bank and resolve the other matter. I walked over to the branch office of BDO and after about thirty minutes of electronic back-and-forth with my bank’s 24-hour service, it was established that BDO was not interested in taking “ghost funds” from my account. My bank agreed to drop the withdrawal and cancel an International Transaction fee. I mention this, in case anyone else ever finds self bamboozled by a perfectly honest attempt to counteract thievery.

Provincial Capitol- The buildings and grounds of the Capitol of Camarines Norte are majestic, in an understated way. The Spanish Colonial architecture is none the worse for the wear, after the Spanish-American War, Japanese occupation and countless typhoons. This place is definitely a point of pride for “Cam Norte” residents, especially for Daetenos.

As you can guess, Filipinos adore colour- the brighter and more varied, the better. I like seeing these “Love Community” signs, in each place I have visited in the Bicol region.
The stately Capitol of Camarines Norte Province. The slogan Alay sa Bayan refers to the recruitment of new civil servants. It means “Our hope for the country”, in Tagalog.
Alay sa Diyos is Tagalog for “Our hope of glory”.
Dr. Jose A. Rizal is considered by many as the Father of the Philippine Nation. He stressed to his fellow citizens that they were equal to, if not superior to, their Spanish overlords. He was executed by the Spanish rulers in 1896, for “the crime of rebellion”. Along with Lapulapu, who led the first resistance to Spanish rule, in the 1520s, Dr. Rizal is an unofficial national hero.

Walk to the Sea– After taking a rest,and because of the big lunch at Golden Baboy, it was time to get my steps in. Bagasbas Beach is Daet’s main tourist draw, though there were only a few locals and a honeymooning couple here, this afternoon. The four-kilometer walk had several appeals to my eye’s palate. Not the least of these was the serenity of the tropical rice paddies and river plains, where Philippine cattle, a genuine native breed, graze and socialize with the tagaks, or little herons.

Philippine cow grazing, with tagaks as company.
These two species are the best of friends.

Our Lady of Penafrancia College is the backdrop for a warning sign.

This area is in the right spot for feeling the fury of a seismic event.
The tide was coming in,as I stood, pants rolled up and feet bare, in the warm western Pacific. (Above and below)
Meet Si Ginoong Niyok (Mr. Coconut).
Cory Aquino Boulevard connects five towns along the coast of Camarines Norte.
Bagasbas Lighthouse, now a private resort. This is as close as I could get the structure, without having to book a night’s lodging.

With that, my work there was through, and I walked back to town, getting a latte at Big Brew, halfway back, and ignoring a mentally-ill man, who wanted me to buy a snack at the place where he was sitting, or feed him-couldn’t tell which. I did stop in town, for a small plate of tuna noodles, at Mamita’s.

It was a day of modest achievements and well-appreciated lessons.

Expanding Home, Day 7: Mastering the Ropes, Quickly

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Posted by on in children, collaborating, Community, impediments, Inspiration, Personal goals, Personal Values, Service Activities, Social, Striving, Travel

October 16, 2023, Daet, Camarines Norte- Burger chef has not had many older American tourists stop at his stall, near Daet’s central high school. In fact, I was the first one, in his memory. I was willing to take the chance, as the quality of food offered to children and teens matters greatly-at least as much as that offered to adults, if not more. I took the two chili cheeseburgers to go-with a mineral water, but no fries.

From the time I first walked around Daet’s “uptown”, this morning, I became a curiosity to some-especially to very young children. For the most part, though, and thankfully, my picking up on the rhythm and flow of pedestrians dovetailing with motor traffic was most appreciated. There are no traffic signals in this part of town, and no stop signs anywhere. Instead, cars, trucks, motorcycles and tuk-tuks exercise a delicate dance with one another. Pedestrians have their own dance, along the at times narrow sidewalks, or along the edge of the street, when the sidewalks run out-as is the case near a Catholic cemetery, not far from Camarines Norte Provincial University. Crossing the street is a matter of quick judgement, three to five seconds is all that is needed, and everyone is expected to pay full attention, move quickly but gracefully and the flow goes on.

I am grateful to be in the shape where I can still take part in this feature of community life. It is noteworthy that, despite the huge volume of vehicular traffic, there are few accidents and almost no traffic jams. I have not seen anyone hit, as yet. It is as if the collective will has told itself: “This is the hand that we have dealt ourselves-big families, lots of small vehicles and roads that are mostly designed to serve motorcycles and tuk-tuks (tricycles, with side cars attached). Let’s make this work!”

Part of my choosing to be here, in a few sections of one country, for three weeks, rather than a “blow-across the region” tour of several nations, is to prove to self that I can pick up readily on social cues and follow along with the rhythm and flow of several aspects of life in a nation where some things are just done differently. The best thing anyone can say about me would be “He is one of us. He understands and is on our side.” Filipinos are guarded, when it comes to Americans-and probably when it comes to Europeans, as well. The more visitors show respect for the way the locals have adapted to their environment-both natural and social, the more room we give the people to advance, at their own pace and in their own way.

After a healthful fish and tofu dinner, at Rustic Cafe, I took in the early evening scene around the Provincial Capitol, and stopped for a few minutes’ reflection, overlooking the Daet River.

The Daet flows brown, but limpid, from north to south.

I look forward to a robust walk to the sea, after taking care of a few necessaries, tomorrow. The pictures will be included in the next post.

Expanding Home, Day 6: A Day of No Cancellations

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Posted by on in Assistance, collaborating, Community, Inspiration, Personal Values, Social, Striving, Travel

October 15, 2023, Daet, Camarines Norte, Philippines– The beleaguered security agent had less than ten seconds to assess my situation, and so quickly sent me and my bags on our way, with the advice: “Take a motorcycle to Terminal 4!” I left her to her other, more immediate charges, and caught a Grab Taxi-whose driver looked at his watch and said, presciently as it turned out-“The ticket agents will tell you it is impossible for you to catch the flight, but two hours from now, you will be landing in Naga.”

My life has come to making careful choices, most of which turn out well. Relying on a temporarily slow-loading cell phone was probably not the best of those; an International SIM Card loads much more slowly than T-Mobile, and when I have to call up an e-mail, for official viewing, and do so “on the double”, a slow load is no load at all. (I have since gone back to the T-Mobile SIM card, since it works better.)

At any rate, I did land in Naga, two hours after the ticket agent told me that it might be impossible to catch the flight-even as there were thirty-five minutes left before boarding and I had already checked-in electronically. He made some calls, gave me a boarding pass, and I went through domestic security and on to the waiting area. There were still twenty minutes left, before the plane started loading, enough time for me to order and get coffee and a muffin from the Seattle’s Best kiosk.

Naga’s small airport had plenty of taxi and tuk-tuk drivers waiting, once we disembarked. The security guard got his friend, Jhun M., to take me to Naga Train Station, at a reasonable rate. Jhun is personable and a careful driver, so in a pinch, I will text him again for the reverse trip on Thursday. The train ride started promptly and the carrier itself moves a lot faster than many U.S. trains. It’s a local train, though, so it took 1 1/2 hours to get from Naga to Sipocot.

Filipinos are a gregarious lot, though, and before long, I found myself being chatted up by a lady whose interests are farming, nature-and the importance of doing what moves a person. Arlene guided me to an ATM and to the bus for Daet, by way of which she managed to contradict Rome to Rio’s insistence that the only way to the beach town, from Sipocot, is by taxi. In fact, the bus is reliable and used by many-as is the case in most countries around the world. (Arlene told me I am her first North American friend-and there was none of the stereotypical nonsense frequently attributed to women who befriend men, in Asian-American encounters. She has her full life here and is not out looking for love.) Having people of substance as friends is really what moves my life,but you, my readers, already know that.

I am now safely in Mirasol Residences, Daet, after an interesting bus ride through the mountainous terrain of northern Bicol- the collective regional name for eastern and southeastern Luzon and the nearby island of Masbate. Daet is a beach town, and though Mirasol is on the west side of town, away from the surf and sand, I will take a hike over to the ocean on Tuesday, weather-permitting. It is raining now, and probably will do so again tomorrow morning.

Here are some views of my home for four days:

Courtyard, Mirasol Residences, Daet

Camarines Norte Room
Metropark Village, the barangay(neighbourhood) of Mirasol Residences

Expanding Home, Day 5: Dockside from An Airport

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Posted by on in Assistance, collaborating, Community, Inspiration, Personal Values, Social, Spiritual, Striving, Travel

October 14, 2023, Manila- The Stand Master’s advice was unequivocal: “Walk over that way (pointing towards a large KFC sign) and your hotel is right there.” Some of his drivers persisted in offering rides, and a few told me they thought the hotel was too expensive (as in “let me take you to my brother’s father-in-law’s cheaper hotel”). In the end, I listened to their boss, and walked to what was essentially like going dockside, from a marina. My Cotopaxi backpack and the laptop bag that Aram gifted me, four years ago, are designed for just this sort of transport, and I found my way, through the security cordon and across the airport ring road, with little trouble-especially as I had plenty of company. Filipinos are inveterate walkers, as are people in many parts of the Global South.

Terminal 1 (of the four that constitute Ninoy Aquino International Airport) is very close to a working class neighbourhood, with Manila Airport Hotel on the same property as the advertised Kentucky Fried Chicken franchise. It is, though, a pleasant and clean little hotel, despite being in a building at least as old as yours truly. Filipinos are also somewhat officious, so I had to wait until the exact appointed time for hotel check-in, though I was able to leave my bags in secure storage and take up space in the lobby, until that hour arrived.

It was a good time for me to size up the interactions among the crew (convivial and egalitarian), the overall clientele (some older men with young wives and other couples who were matched in age, as well as some men my age and younger, who are here alone, as I am) and the ambiance (a nice little coffee shop, several small restaurants that were closed, as it was after 11 a.m. on Saturday, and a small Chinese restaurant, where I took a small order of dim sum, being still full from the breakfast served on the flight from T’aipei. Dim sum, in Manila, means steamed soft rice dumplings that are round and quite large. It was the cheapest item on the menu, but good enough that I will go back at some point, over the next two weeks, and order something more substantial.

Manila Airport Hotel
View from my room, Manila Airport Hotel, looking west.

I closed out the day by having an enjoyable “English Breakfast”, for dinner. This English repast included a “Hungarian Sausage”, which was definitely of Trans-Danubian origin, scrambled egg that was omelet in quality, two small strips of bacon (well-crisped) and a couple of pieces of fresh-baked white bread, also well-toasted. The coffee holds its own, comparable to some of the best in the U.S.

The long day has a sequel, tomorrow, so off to dream land I go.

Expanding Home, Day 4: Food for Thought, in the Sky

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Posted by on in Assistance, collaborating, Community, distraction issues, Entertainment, impediments, Inner Struggles, Inspiration, Personal Values, Service Activities, Social, Spiritual, Striving, Travel

October 13, 2023, T’aipei- Today was “short”, on the ground, due to having crossed the International Date Line, while flying here from San Francisco. In reality, the energy of Friday the 13th, to me always proactive, feminine- and never unlucky, played out in full-even as the clock, here in Taiwan’s capital, said it was 5:30 a.m., Japan-Taiwan Time, on October 14.

Most of it was spent in the air, above the Pacific Ocean, between the westernmost part of Alaska, (or which the International Date Line is significantly bent to the southwest, to accommodate the Aleutian Islands, and the easternmost part of Russian Siberia), and this resilient city that maintains its Mandarin Chinese character, while keeping developmental pace with its larger sibling to the west.

I’m tired, so this will be relatively brief. It is important to note that the quality of time spent in the air is just as important to character, as time spent in active pursuits on the ground. I chose three movies to view, each of which had life lessons to impart.

“Indiana Jones and the Dial of Destiny” was a sillier film than the first four, but does have a caution to impart about the consequences of unbridled ego-with the fate of a neo-Nazi “Second Fuhrer” inextricably linked, to his overaching desire to play God. Indy himself is questioned by his reconciled wife, as to whether he is “back”, emotionally and physically.

“Close”, a Belgian film about the innocent, ill-fated friendship between two adolescent boys, examines sexually-charged bullying, living one’s life through others, and the sometimes feckless behaviour of adults who befriend children and try to treat them as equals. It deals with the consequences of suicide for a community, head-on, and pulls no punches.

“The Little Things”, a recent Denzel Washington crime-solving vehicle, deals with remorse, insecurity in marriage and parenthood-especially of fathers relating to daughters, and of one or more unbridled egos,leading to the undoing of one miscreant-and maybe those of both of his nemeses.

This was the first half of my eighth trans-Pacific round trip. I spent it seated next to an intrepid, very large, woman, who is headed even further than me. As always has happened up to now, we looked out for one another-and for the flight attendants, who were always rushing about and, it seems, running into tired passengers who had to get up and move aside for one another. Oh, the joys of conflicting legitimate pursuits.

There were no bad guys on this plane-except on screen.