October 6,2024, Manila- The day started and ended with rain. Thus, the nice picnic devotional we had planned for late morning became an indoor affair. I brought chicken fillets, topped with dinakdakan sauce. Kathy and her male cousin contributed a rather good pizza. Others brought a regional variation on pancit- a generic Tagalog name for noodles. There was also a seaweed dish, brought by one of the young men. I have been a fan of seaweed since the days we lived in Jeju, Korea. It is a powerhouse of nutrients. I will describe dinakdakan, which I find tasty, upon request. (No, it is not made from insects).
The afternoon was spent in study of aspects of Huquq’u’llah, which I have discussed in earlier posts (see especially Sept. 16, 2024). It was not dry and intense-no Filipino would sit through such boredom for long, but it was done with attention and focus. Kathy knows what she’s doing, especially when it comes to academic presentation of financial matters. I was honoured to sit at her right-hand side and contribute a fair amount to the discussion. Much of it was in Tagalog, but I had everyone’s attention when offering thoughts in English.
Towards the end of the meeting, K’s cousin pressed me to extend my stay- “permanently”. She and I exchanged knowing glances, smiled and I said I would need to go back to the U.S., for six months. There are several things needing attention at Home Base, in Carson City and back East-not excluding the possibility of time in the Southeast, given this year’s sudden explosion of hurricane energy-shades of 2005. Brief visits to San Diego and Jalisco are likely in February, and I will want to get to Massachusetts and Pennsylvania, in April.
So, we have pretty much agreed on a May return. How “permanent” will be influenced by things like the birth of one or more grandchildren-still to be determined, BTW. Today, though, I learned that any mixed signals I may have sensed, over the past day or so, were mainly in my mind. This beautiful, compassionate, intelligent woman, whose friendship I am so privileged to secure, is for real.
October 3, 2024, Manila- Today was one of those days when the executive dysfunction of some friends led to long periods of sitting around, waiting for things to happen. K was doing a lot, as was the renovation crew who are working on the Baha’i Center. She, and they, were doing fine without me, so I offered to help another friend, and waited, and waited. In the end, the day went by with plans unfulfilled-for several reasons.
While waiting, though, my mind went over several things I’ve noticed have changed about Philippine traffic, since last year: 1.There are, for pedestrians, a signal that tells both how long until they may cross again (red numbers) and how long they have to cross (green numbers). There is still, for unregulated intersections, the tradition of crossing when traffic slows down. 2. There are several more directional signs for outlying areas than I recall from last year. 3. Directions for places of interest are more commonly posted, both in Metro Manila and in the smaller cities. 4. Cautionary signs, regarding speeding and littering, are more common-especially in smaller neighbourhoods. 5. I have seen fewer instances of gridlock than I saw last year.
Coffee shops and juice bars have sprung up in areas where they were lacking-always a sign of a trend towards a more peaceful camaraderie and health consciousness.
There aren’t as many beggars, and there is markedly less trash on the streets, even in more “rundown” neighbourhoods. (There are many more wheeled trash bins around.) More kids are in school than are wandering the streets. I see more people who look like they are on a mission. I see more couples showing affection, though rarely in an unseemly manner. Life in “the Phils”, to my eyes, seems to be getting better.
My relative downtime gave me a chance to completely catch up on things that had accumulated, so now I can focus on remaining goals, over the next 3.5 weeks. I am keeping abreast of events in the U.S. and in western Asia. Hurricane Helene was the worst cyclone in my homeland since Katrina. There are no words to describe my sorrow at the devastation in places like Perry (FL), Asheville, Boone, Aiken, Greenville (SC), Tryon, Valdosta, Damascus and Newport (TN). I have been to most of those places and have friends in several of them. Claytor Lake State Park, in southwest Virginia, was a place of refuge for me, in August, 2011, when I was at the lowest ebb, emotionally. It is now at its lowest ebb, physically, and will do well by the Federal aid that has been secured for several states in the southeast. Remember our small towns. They will live on and largely recover, but right now, many are in agony.
October 1, 2024, Manila- The three titular things stood out, in my visit yesterday, to Palawan Heritage Center. My guide, a knowledgeable, if soft-spoken, young lady named Irene, presented two videos: The first, on the island and its tributaries-which constitute the largest province in the Philippines. There are roughly 1, 780 islands and islets in the jurisdiction. The main island is 280 miles (450 km) long and 31 miles (50 km) wide. It is the mini-Chile of the Malay Archipelago. It is also the only part of the Philippines that was once part of mainland Asia.
The second video raised an issue of humanity: The Tau’t Bato, a small subgroup of the Palaw’an First Nation, live traditional, simple lives in the Singnapan Valley, of southern Palawan. They take shelter in nearby caves, during the rainy season. many of the Tau’t Bato came to live in cities, from Puerto Princesa to Manila and Cebu, in the 1970s to 2000s. They found urban life to be totally at variance with their experiences in the Singnapan, only finding “work” as house servants, trash pickers or purveyors of trinkets. They slept on the sidewalks and were generally treated as curiosities, at best, or outcasts, at worst. Many went back to Singnapan, though some still live in the larger communities. Fortunately, those who have returned to their homeland are protected by the provincial and national governments.
As Irene was showing me several paintings by local artists, a cockroach came onto the polished marble floor. I left it to her to decide the insect’s fate, and a janitor was summoned, whisked the creature onto a dustpan and deposited it in the garden outside. (I do this at home, when confronted with a sewer roach.)
The last item was a handmade change purse, which I bought for K, given her love of local handicrafts. I picked up a “glow-in-the-dark” trinket for myself.
Here are a few scenes of the Palawan Heritage Center..
Palawan Provincial HouseSome works by local paintersDr. Higino Mendoza (top row, second from left) was the wartime governor of Palawan. He worked to keep his people safe from Japanese rule, and was executed for his trouble. He is regarded as the provincial hero of Palawan.Here are more works by local artists.Here is a replica of Plaza Cuartel’s gate, when it was intact. The present structure has fallen into disrepair.This depiction of a babaylan ( a traditional healer) was intended, by the Spanish, to frighten children. The healer was actually a gentle soul, as a rule.Here is a diorama of a Tau’t Bato home.This may be as close as I get to a Palaw’an village, any time soon.
In the afternoon, I went with Roger to a small local beach, called Aquaman Beach Resort. It is in a small barangay called Bancao-Bancao. The tide was incoming, but the water was like a bath, so I walked around a bit and took some shots.
A view of the Philippine Sea, at Bancao-Bancao. (Above and below)Roger, resembling Ernest Hemingway.Longhouse, at high tide.Lone tree, and a boat cabanaLong view of Aquaman Beach Resort.Another “tree islet”Forest trail, out of Aquaman Beach Resort.
My last day in Puerto Princesa ended with a nice meal at McCoy’s Restaurant, at Bay Walk Park. For now, having returned to the capital, Palawan will continue to exist in my heart. The Philippines as a whole will, as well, after I head back to North America, on October 27. Something tells me, though, that we will be far from done with one another.
September 27, 2024, Puerto Princesa- The dog was sniffing my shoes, as a I left them outside the door to the large, comfortable villa, where our evening meal and impromptu conversation of two hours was to unfold. There are no puppies here at Dang Maria, (named for the mother of the owner), so I thought nothing of leaving them in the customary spot.
We had several lengthy and intelligent conversations today. Sister-friend Jane looms large in this seaside community, and has done nothing but good for the Puertenyos, and all Palawenyos. Her vision, like mine, is global and inclusive. I am proud to see her as a spiritual sibling.
My actual hosts here in Puerto Princesa are a furniture maker, Roger, and his wife Amie (AA mee). Roger sets the meetings and, in the tropical tradition, the times. It is vacation mode, even with my keeping view of my goals here-to encourage the Baha’is, as we continue to re-group, in the lingering aftermath of pandemic. I walk more slowly, along Manalo Street, to and from my host’s residence and my digs at Rodolfo Royale Hotel-and anywhere else we may be walking.
Our first leisurely stop was at Palawan Mall, where I refueled my wallet. We then headed over to Jane’s Restaurant, Neva’s Place, named for one of her three daughters.
Neva’s Place, Puerto Princesa, Palawan (above and below)
After a meal of garlic shrimp and noodles, with coffee as a dessert item rather than as “fuel”, we bid Jane adieu and headed back to our respective spots on Manalo Street, for siesta in the sitio (neighbourhood). It is still an institution here on Palawan-for those who don’t have a series of meetings to attend.
Our evening gathering, at Dang Maria, started “promptly at 5 p.m.”, which is Taglish for “be here around 6…or so”. We got there at 6:15. The gloaming had set in, but in the house, everything had a quiet vibrancy, and we addressed woes, both near and far. One thing we all hold in common- our Faith is not meant to have us hold our heads in the clouds. Spirituality, if real, must envelop, absorb and sanctify the material and the practical. Matters, great and small, put in front of us, are worthy of our attention. “Be anxiously concerned with the needs of the age ye live in, and centre your deliberations on its exigencies and requirements.-Baha’u’llah, “The Tabernacle of Unity”
Evening, at Casa Maria, Puerto PrincesaAmie, Roger and JaneThis is the one where I look like my maternal grandfather. (Time is flying!)
It was time to leave, being close to 9 p.m., so I went outside, to put on my shoes-except that there was only one. We looked high and low-but in the darkness, there was only one thing to do. I was graciously offered a pair of sandals, and the remaining shoe was placed out of harm’s way.
September 24, 2024- A groan came from the back of the taxi, and I turned to see my sister-friend trying to stomp a cockroach, which scurried out of harm’s way-toward my beloved, who also tried to stomp and missed. Being the man in the party of three, Filipino culture dictated that I sit in the front passenger seat, so despite my annoyance at the insect being near my friends, I could do nothing-but wait and see if it came towards my space. Somehow, it stayed hidden under my seat-and we all refocused.
We had been on an outing, first to the Philippine-American Cemetery, where 17,000 men and women, who died fighting the Japanese invaders, between 1941-45, are laid to rest. Those Missing in Action are named also named on a Wall of Honour. This wall is in three segments, each of which has several columns. Kathy wondered if any of my family members died in service, during World War II. None did, but my late father-in-law was a prisoner of war, in Berga, Germany, for five long months, in 1945. As a Jew, he was given “special” torment. Two of my maternal uncles were in the Navy, during the Battle of Midway. One of them served with valor, when his ship was shot out from under him and crew mates. He received a Silver Star for his actions. One of my paternal aunts served in the Women’s Naval Corps, the only member of her family who was able to serve at the time. I did find a distant relative, a Robert Boivin, USN, who was killed in action in the Philippines. There may be others, as we did not go to the Army, Marines or Coast Guard sections, which we will visit another day.
We viewed a film about the sequence of events There were so many heroic figures, among the Filipino and American forces, including many of both who acted as guerillas, constantly harassing the occupants. Filipino civilians also acted in wily fashion, many operating right under the noses of the overconfident Rising Sun. All those who died, made the soil of the Philippine nation fertile, in the best of ways. My head is bowed in tribute.
Here are some scenes from our visit to this hallowed spot.
The Home Front of America sprang to action.People of colour were in the forefront of the battle for the Philippines, and elsewhere.Kathy and Norlie are among the grateful.So am I.Norlie’s grandfather was one of the above.I still stand ready.This cenotaph honours the fallen, collectively.Robert Boivin, Signal Corps, USN, was a distant cousin.Three of Penny’s distant maternal cousins, Anthony, Ervin and Kyee Faust, were also in the forefront of the battle-at Leyte Gulf (1944).
Here is another view of the Cenotaph. It is actually a chapel, with a statue of St. Mary inside.
Afterwards, we went to one of the legacies of Philippine freedom: The new financial center of Manila: Bonifacio Global Center. There, we met another friend and I became the lovely ladies’ paparazzo.
Bonifacio Global CenterNorlie, Kathy and Ylona at “BGC”.
September 22, 2024, Manila- The wooden Ibaloi warrior sat in my crafts souvenir bag, keeping watch over the bus, and me-like Little Bear, in “The Indian in the Cupboard”. I would not have been surprised, had he come to life and begun murmuring fiercely in the Ibaloi dialect of the time. The history of the indigenous people of the vast Malay archipelago: East Malaysia, Brunei Darussalam, Indonesia, Timor L’Este and the Philippines mirrors that of the First Nations of the Americas. Indeed, they were all subjugated by the same European conquerors-and their successor cultures.
Mabel Cook Cole provides us with this account of the origin of the Igorot nations
In the beginning there were no people on the earth.
Lumawig, the Great Spirit, came down from the sky and cut many reeds. He divided these into pairs which he placed in different parts of the world, and then he said to them, “You must speak.”
Immediately the reeds became people, and in each place was a man and a woman who could talk, but the language of each couple differed from that of the others.
Then Lumawig commanded each man and woman to marry, which they did. By and by there were many children, all speaking the same language as their parents. These, in turn, married and had many children. In this way there came to be many people on the earth.
Now Lumawig saw that there were several things which the people on the earth needed to use, so he set to work to supply them. He created salt, and told the inhabitants of one place to boil it down and sell it to their neighbors. But these people could not understand the directions of the Great Spirit, and the next time he visited them, they had not touched the salt.
Then he took it away from them and gave it to the people of a place called Mayinit. These did as he directed, and because of this he told them that they should always be owners of the salt, and that the other peoples must buy of them.
Then Lumawig went to the people of Bontoc and told them to get clay and make pots. They got the clay, but they did not understand the molding, and the jars were not well shaped. Because of their failure, Lumawig told them that they would always have to buy their jars, and he removed the pottery to Samoki. When he told the people there what to do, they did just as he said, and their jars were well shaped and beautiful. Then the Great Spirit saw that they were fit owners of the pottery, and he told them that they should always make many jars to sell.
In this way Lumawig taught the people and brought to them all the things which they now have.”-Source: Mabel Cook Cole, Philippine Folk Tales (Chicago: A. C. McClurg and Company, 1916), pp. 99-101.
The First Nations of the Malay Archipelago, including the Philippines, have much the same richness in their cultures and in their societies, as have the First Nations of the Americas-and in fact, all the First Nations, across the globe. It was all too easy for Europeans and their settler descendants to have lost sight of this, because no sooner had a wave of Eurasian nomads come across from the steppes of the landmass’s center and settled down (the Celts, the Aryans, the Teutonic tribes, the Huns, Avars and Turks), than another wave of nomads, the Mongols being the last, came thundering across the plains, to conquer and disrupt society. Each successive wave of settlers disdained those they found in place. So did the ethos of conquest become ingrained in the European mindset-and in many ways, the wisdom of the indigenous people was discounted and overlooked.
I am grateful to have had a small amount of time with the Idaloi. I will be back, possibly as early as next month.
I came back to the capital, this afternoon. The return trip was made the way the average Filipino makes it-via a local bus, that stopped in four different depots and two rest areas. The bus picked up roadside passengers in the countryside between Baguio and Sison, which was the first rest area. We continued through small cities, like Urdaneta and Moncada, stopped at a second rest area, in Angeles, and still got to Pasay Victory Line Terminal in five hours. Now, there are four days to regroup and replenish, before going to Palawan, the “frontier” of the Philippines, in the southwest.
Here, as a bonus, is a collection of Igorot legends.
September 20, 2024, Baguio- The little boy was curious about what was in my soup bowl, so he started to approach the small table where I sat, in James Wright Cafe, at Baguio’s SM CIty . His mother was having none of it, and sternly called him back to their table, explaining the etiquette of dining in public.
SM is a chain of supermarkets and malls, across the Philippines and in China. It started in 1948, when Henry Sy opened a Shoe Mart, in Manila’s Quiapo District. His business plan gradually allowed for expansion into the supermarket concept, then into full service shopping malls, with a great number of satellite shops. Baguio’s SM has two stories and a plethora of shopping options. I contented myself with food that I could prepare back at my suite, and a few treats to share with my hosts, besides the lunch at James Wright Cafe.
I went into town by jeepney, after enjoying breakfast at Badihoy’s Aqua Garden Cafe. Here is a remarkable view of the Cordillera rain forest, from Aqua Garden’s terrace.
Kordilerya Rainforest, Badihoy, Baguio
Once the langganisa breakfast, with Chocolate Bomb, was finished, it was on to the parks and other sights of Baguio’s City Center. The first stop was a monument to Dr. Jose Rizal, the national hero of the Philippines.
“The Golden Blood”, celebrating modern day heroes-soldiers and sailors defending the Philippines, and first responders.Monument to Dr. Rizal
Next was Burnham Park, named for its designing architect, Daniel Burnham, of Chicago. He wanted a park that American forces stationed at Baguio could enjoy and one that would appeal to Filipinos, as well. Thus, there is a small lake, with paddle boats and pontoon boats for rental, as well as numerous small gardens, with many stone sitting benches, and a few tables.
Bust of Daniel Burnham, at Burnham Park, BaguioSome of Pine City’s pines, Burnham ParkFilipinos are quite focused on community health.A long view of Burnham ParkCelosias make you take notice!A young fashionista was posing for several “walking photos”, at this bed of daisies. I gladly waited my turn. The girl reminded me of one of our friends in Manila, who also likes to pose in style.Have paddle boat, will cruise the lake!Mural honouring small holder farmers, Burnham Park (above and below)When I was a child, the Swan Boat at Boston Common was a delight. Glad to see that some are still around-pontoons at Burnham Lake.Wherever one goes, cats rule.Honouring Igorot warriors, defending their homeland- Igorot Garden Park, Baguio (above and below)Baguio Cathedral. There was a Mass being said, so I did not go inside.
The way back was interesting, in and of itself. The rain was heavy, but that did not deter anyone, including me, who needed to get somewhere. I found a jeepney, which took me further than I needed to go. With help from a Guisad Barangay worker named Kim, I got back just fine, though.
Tomorrow’s outing to an indigenous craft shop will be better planned out. I will take note of landmarks, so as to not overshoot this little sitio of Badihoy.
September 18, 2024, Manila- Remembering the old saw that goes: “You can’t tell if someone is disabled, just by looking at him”, I nonetheless walked past the muscular young man who was sitting on the sidewalk, holding out a paper cup. I don’t, as a matter of course, reward begging. There are cases where I will purchase snacks, especially packaged ones, from street vendors. That constitutes reward for some kind of work. Sorry, not sorry, but begging is not work.
I decided to give my friends at the Baha’i Center some space today, and opted to walk about 5 kilometers total, from Ola! Hostel to the light rail station at Vito Cruz, and from Gil Puyat station to Libertad, which took me past the Metro Manila World Trade Center. From Libertad, I took the light rail back to Vito Cruz, then walked to Ola!
World Trade Center, north of Ninoy Aquino International Airport (above and below)
Most people were just going about their business, and did not pay me any mind. A little girl asked if I needed any help, when I stopped to put my camera back in its sleeve. It was kind of her, but I was making myself feel useful and capable, so I continued on-and she went back to wherever she had been people watching.
After doing my laundry, in advance of tomorrow’s bus ride to Baguio, I sent a message to Kathy, touching base about the arrangements she had made for said ride. The answer came back that the information would be at the Baha’i Center, so I went there after all, in the evening. She brought the paperwork, after a fashion, and I saw the work that had kept her busy, these past few days: A thick binder of documents. This woman is nothing, if not dedicated and the work was largely done. I sat with her and several others, a conversation dovetailing between English and Tagalog ( the latter of which I could only understand a smidgen). Were it not for tomorrow’s activities, which start with an early morning Zoom call, I could have sat and talked for hours. It was, at least an hour well-spent, talking about the Baha’is of the United States, and our schools/institutes.
Bend a little, and get a lot in return. Show independence, and get support.
September 16, 2024- “Every exit is an entrance to someplace else”-Sign in the Rooftop Restaurant, at Ola! Hostel. I am nearing the end of the first Manila phase of my visit here. It’s just as well. My friend needs to get on with her day job, and I have promises to fulfill, in the outlying areas. After hopefully helping one of the other Manila friends with filing a claim, tomorrow, I will try to get to Corregidor on Wednesday and head for Baguio, in central Luzon, from Thursday to Sunday. The first few days of next week are uncertain, especially given my dearest friend’s work schedule, but I will head to Palawan, for five days, on Sept. 26. Visits to Mindoro and the Bicol region may follow, as October gets underway.
Every trial, every effort one makes, comes with a valuable lesson. Those lessons are what allow for transcendence. One such lesson was with respect to the One SIM card I tried using. It cannot receive text messages from the United States, so it ended up being useless and I have gone back to my regular number. The other thing about trials is that they call me out on whether I mean what I say. I do, but there is always a need to prove that to those who are important to me, but don’t know me all that well.
A long day has come to a close. My intuition, with regard to K, is ever spot on and I will continue to be her rock. The woman has so much to offer this world. That’s all I can say.
September 15, 2024, Manila- There was an insistent parade of kids, in and out of the small conference room, as our study group continued on its course-looking into the Baha’i concept of Huquq’u’llah, or Right of God. This fund, which I have described before, is a voluntary obligation. Simply put, if a Baha’i accumulates a certain amount of money, above and beyond what is needed for expenses, it behooves the person to check into the current price of gold, and if s(he) has accumulated wealth equal to, or above, the value of 2.2246 ounces (69 grams), then 19 % of that amount may be paid to Huquq’u’llah. That satisfies the obligation, until another amount that meets that criterion is accumulated. One’s primary residence, primary vehicle and necessary household effects are exempt from this obligation. The bottom line is that such giving is between the individual and the Divine. Even those managing the fund have no business overseeing the frequency of giving.
My friend, Kathy, led the group study and discussion, setting a tone of gentleness and grace towards the children, who mostly just wanted to be sure their parents had not forgotten them, in the course of the meeting. The kids were in the capable hands of a separate instructor, but there is just nobody who can replace Mom and Dad. So, the in and out parade went on, as did our study, the two weaving around one another. It all served to increase my feelings of love and respect for her, and for Filipino culture.
We all dispersed, around 3 p.m., with the group members all going on with their family activities, and me going on, to do my laundry and post the photos from yesterday’s outing. The evening was quiet, at Ola! Hostel and the nearby Sasa Cafe, until it wasn’t. Around 10 p.m., the skies opened up, and the loud thunder that had been rumbling for over an hour, was accompanied by mildly flooded streets. This is nothing new to Manilenos, of course, and being up three floors from the ground level, I found nothing alarming, either. It just added an exclamation point to a mildly declarative day.
A Sagittarian Seeker 