Category Archives: Assistance

Expanding Home, Day 9: The Second Homage

2
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

2
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 6: A Day of No Cancellations

2
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

2
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

2
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.

Expanding Home, Day 3: Transitory Headaches and The Homeopathic Telephone

2
Posted by on in Assistance, collaborating, Community, impediments, Personal Values, Social, Striving, Travel

October 12, 2023, San Diego- Columbus may have ended his first voyage across an ocean, on this day. I begin my twelfth such journey in less than an hour. Transitions have invariably included at least one headache. Today’s involved finding the auto park where Sportage will spend its time, while I am on the other side of the Pacific. You have to love Google Maps-three times directing me to a man’s welding shop, and all because CalDOT re-named a road and Google didn’t pick up on it. After the third time, I found the shop owner and learned that he gets five or six people a month stopping at his place and inquiring as to the Auto Park’s location. It was then that I called the Auto Park’s parent company, got the Auto Park’s local number and within minutes was securing my vehicle’s safety for the duration of my time away. Cell phones can be homeopathic.

The other thing I realized was that I did not want to leave Samesun Hostel. It was time, though, and the Sowellian trade-off is that I will make several new friends along the way. The desk clerk at the hostel, as I checked out, was officious,but courteous. Her slightly standoffish nature is perhaps the result of dealing with hundreds of relative strangers who come and go each day. It just was a tad different from the other desk clerks I have encountered at Samesun.

I stopped briefly at San Diego Baha’i Center, to pick up a newly-printed study guide. Then it was lunchtime. In the interests of not running out my time on the crotchety parking meter, I stopped in at Carnivore Sandwich, a spot on the edge of Little Italy that is popular with sailors from the not-too-distant 32nd Street Base. Taking the Philly cheese steak to the waterfront was a refreshing idea, sitting on a park bench, greeted by a cyclist who wished me a nice lunch and by a pair of dogs, who were eager to sniff the remnants of my meal. After their owner gave a stern “No” to that idea, the trio went off to their motorized raft and on to her sailboat.

A short time later, after walking along the harbourside, near the Coast Guard complex, I headed towards the Auto Park, and worked through the above-mentioned challenge. A short shuttle ride later, it was time to visit Alaska Airlines. The check-in process was not complicated, with the comical incident of my camera falling out of the TSA bin, while it was going through the screening. When I asked an agent for help in finding it, she wondered whether it needed to be screened further. Nope-it was found, sitting by its lonesome, in a slight dip along the belt.

San Francisco- The flight from San Diego was smooth, but for mild turbulence over Big Sur. I found that the folder containing secondary copies of my flight arrangements and letters of introduction had remained behind, at the gate in San Diego. I have all I need on phone and laptop, so it is just a zing to my pride and a small life lesson.

An occasionally squawking toddler, and a trio of small dogs, yipping one in a while, from their mesh kennel, were the only interruptions to in-flight silence, as my seatmate and I read our books and admired the slender line of sunset, about forty minutes into the flight. I last saw her, intense in thought and trying to figure out the map to the International Terminal. Feeling it prudent to leave her to her own resourceful mind, I made the walk to this terminal, in ten minutes.

When I got to China Air’s ticket counter, a small group of Taiwanese elders pointed to the empty counters, then to their mouths- as in ” Go eat, then come back”. It was a good idea, as once I had supped on chicken salad and a cup of coffee, the ticket counters were fully in business. It did not take long, though, to get my boarding passes for T’aipei and Manila, then to undergo a second security check. Now, a small group of us are at comfortable Gate 11. It’s close to my customary bedtime, but sleep will come on the plane.

My account of this Friday the 13th will be brief. When we leave San Francisco, it’ll be 1:05 a.m., the International Date Line will be crossed, and it’ll be slightly after 5 a.m., Saturday the 14th, when we land in T’aipei. It will be quite a life, these next two days.

Expanding Home, Day 2: Care Shares,Key Chains and Kelp Tossing

6
Posted by on in Assistance, collaborating, Community, Hiking and Nature, Inspiration, Personal goals, Personal Values, Service Activities, Social, Spiritual, Striving, Travel

October 11, 2023, San Diego- Medaglia D’Oro instant coffee is a hit with the workers at Samesun Hostel. For that alone, it is one of the best investments I have made, for $4.05. In the days of widespread labour dissatisfaction, befriending and encouraging workers, even in small ways, is a most important endeavour.

After a hearty walkabout along the southern end of Ocean Beach, and the subsequent cat nap, I sat with a few of the staff members and some other hostelers, and made key chains-tutored by the crafts and yoga lady-Lexi. My chain’s decoration is two-sided, with the all-important eye on each side. It will likely cause the lot attendant a double-take, when I lodge Sportage with him, for the duration of my visit to the Philippines. He may wonder which of my grandchildren made this. ( I have none, at present.) The truth of the matter can stay with me, and the readers of this post. I made two new friends here at Samesun (Lexi and her friend, Alicia), and that’s the most important thing.

The day started with a brisk walk to the pier. The surf was a good deal calmer than it was, when I was last here, in December. Noting a sign that said “Throw kelp back into the ocean”, I spent several minutes doing just that, though I know that the message was directed primarily at the ubiquitous fisherfolk along the pier.

Morning surf, Ocean Beach (above and below)

The skies were almost June Gloom-like (“October Opaque”?), and true to form, they would break into sunshine, later in the day. Meanwhile, there was plenty of colour on the ground, in Ocean Beach.

Another sweet OB mural
Two ladies, two pelicans and a lone octopus

It was a pleasure to share my rather large portion of Cashew Chicken and Pork Dumplings with a trio of sidewalk campers, who are accepted neighbours of the hostel. Likewise,the street people here are respectful of their business neighbours and do not harass anyone walking about. There is a neatness and order here, that is not always present in impromptu communities elsewhere.

Once lunch was a wrap, it was time for the walkabout that I mentioned earlier. In December, I focused on the pier and on the north of OB. The south side, also called Sunset Cliffs, is equally a delight, though the area above the beach is considered unstable, and is fenced off.

Sign at Ocean Front Drive, OB
Unstable above; fascinating below
Sunset Cliffs trail, Ocean Beach
Cove, along Sunset Cliffs trail, Ocean Beach
Surf gets feisty, Sunset Cliffs trail
A sandstone sculptor has left several messages, along the south side of Ocean Beach. I am certainly trying my best.

First Nations

2
Posted by on in Assistance, collaborating, Community, distraction issues, Historical, impediments, Inner Struggles, Inspiration, Personal Values, Service Activities, Social, Spiritual, Striving

October 9, 2023- There once was a story, that when the People came across the ice and land bridge known as Beringia, they followed large, ferocious beasts, from mastodons and mammoths to smilodons (sabre-toothed cats) and short-faced bears. There was Megatherium, the larger, somewhat more irascible ancestor of today’s tree sloth. There were huge dire wolves and wild cattle, called aurochs. Some legends also say that the continent of North America was occupied by giant humans. There is evidence that some First Nations people also came by sea, from the western Pacific islands and from the Mediterranean region-and that even the Amazon Basin was peopled, before the Pacific Northwest.

Much of that lore remains to be proven. So, too, does much of the lore about who first settled what we call the Holy Land. The Old Testament recounts that the twelve tribes of Israel were led to the edge of that nation, and found Canaanites and Philistines already there. There was battle, and the Philistines were defeated. They went slightly north, became the Phoenicians , and contributed greatly to Western Civilization-as did the Jews.

People have always been on the move. Homo sapiens came out of Africa, spread throughout Eurasia, across the Pacific Islands, into Australia and to the Americas. Migrating peoples left the Eurasian steppes and Altai Mountains-some going east and becoming the Siberians and at least some of those we call First Nations peoples or Native Americans; others going west and becoming the Scythians, Kelts, Teutons, Slavs, Turks, Magyars (Huns) and Sami. Other migrating people left the Caucasus and became the Greeks, Etruscans, Latins and Illyrians of southern Europe, or, going eastward, the Persians and various peoples of north India.

African emigres sailed the Indian Ocean, and the eastern rim of Asia, to Australia, New Guinea and Melanesia. The true First Nations of the Philippines, Taiwan and Jeju (South Korea) were of African origin. In kind, Malays, who long ago left southern China and settled the Pacific Rim of southeast Asia-found their way westward, settling Madagascar, where they found and intermingled with Africans.

In Africa itself, the southern third of the continent was originally the domain of those who have been variously called Hottentots, Bushmen, Pygmies, or more recently by their own preferred name, San. Those known collectively as Bantu were migrants from western Africa, who spread across the continent, much as the First Nations peoples of the Americas spread through those continents.

The beat goes on-and still there is argument, as to who should be allowed to live where. Fighting over land is tantamount to self-defeatism. Untangling the ball of yarn will be a long, tortuous process, but can anyone really say the process of conflict and warfare is easier?

“The Earth is but one country, and Mankind its citizens”. – Baha’u’llah

Shani

4
Posted by on in Assistance, children, collaborating, Community, impediments, Inner Struggles, Matters of Faith, Personal Values, Service Activities, Social, Spiritual, Striving, Travel

October 8, 2023- Her smiling countenance is what we have left of her, at least for the time being. It is a sweet smile, and yes, it’s framed by a scantily-clad physique-but so what? SO WHAT? If that is the “crime” that led grown men abduct her, throw her in a truck, strip her naked and have women spit at her, while she was either unconscious or dead, it speaks volumes about the nature of the individuals and groups who are manipulating the Arabs of Palestine-specifically the long-marginalized, “rats in a cage” Arabs of Gaza.

We all know what deprived animals do when they are trapped and cornered. How much worse it is, for human beings-and when their own neighbours, their own chosen leaders, are the ones primarily entrapping them-as a means of stoking hatred towards a selected enemy-who responds in kind. Thus a few women in an unknown village, somewhere in Gaza, spat at the body of a young woman-who was unconscious or dead. Thus were girls, not much younger than she, made to watch-and be put on notice by their elders-that this is what happens to those who disobey the ulama, the imams, the Supreme Leader.

I am slated to leave for another part of the world, in less than a week. Some of my loved ones have urged me to reconsider, given the current situation in Southwest Asia. It is a fair request, and I am keeping a close watch on the situation. This journey, like all my travels on public conveyances, is insured to the hilt. If the situation escalates-which it may, and those sympathetic to the terrorists strike in the part of the world where I am headed, then I am prepared to stay in bounds, spend a few days in San Diego and San Francisco, and come back to live the dream. If the situation stays as it is presently-which it also may, I will take one leg of the flight at a time, and check updates, while in San Diego, then in San Francisco, then in T’aipei, to say nothing of being constantly vigilant, while in the Philippines.

Back to the matter of Shani Louk: She was at a music festival, in the Negev Desert, when she was abducted, taken to Gaza, stripped bare and paraded around a village like a slab of meat. There is little difference between this act, and all the other abductions, killings-on both sides of the border and torture-on both sides of the border AND the brutal attacks at a concert in Manchester, England, in May, 2017-except in the degree of death and destruction. There is little difference in the intent of the terror-mongers in southwest Israel and that of the perpetrators of the September 11, 2001 attacks on the United States-except in the degree of death and destruction.

Like the girls who were made to watch someone, not much older than they, be rendered unconscious, stripped of her clothing and paraded around, in total deshabille, their mothers’ and aunts’ sputum dripping from her body, we can only wonder how the human race got into this mess. Like the survivors of the Holocaust of 1943-45, forced to watch as their family members were herded onto rail cars and sent to “the showers”, never to return, we can only recoil in horror, as it happens again-albeit to a smaller group-so far. Like the innocent people of Gaza, the West Bank and the State of Israel, whose sole crime is living among those who exist by inhaling the stench of neurotically-achieved power, we can only redouble our own resolve to bring those tottering remnants of Byzantine folly to their just retribution. Extremism has begotten extremism-and it’s high time the gauntlet came down.

May Shani Louk be brought home to her mother.

A View from The Cusp

2
Posted by on in Assistance, collaborating, Community, impediments, Inner Struggles, Inspiration, Personal Values, Social, Striving

October 7, 2023- As we walked along, on the impromptu tour of Prescott College, this evening, one of the conversations drifted into the subject of zodiacal cusps-those periods just before the transition from one zodiac sign to another.

As the person who raised the issue was born just before Scorpio gives way to Sagittarius, the discussion revolved around which traits of the latter sign could be discerned in her make-up. There were 2 or 3, which I will not divulge, as the conversation was semi-private. She did, however, acknowledge that being born on the cusp of Sagittarius gave her a unique appreciation of both zodiacal realms. She went down the list of traits, and asked whether I had them: Free spirit-Check; Life-long learner- Check; Loyal- Check; Inveterate traveler-Check (The last one caused one of my dearest friends, walking nearby, to concur, with a mild sigh. )

One astrologer refers to a Sagittarian’s life as “a wild ride”. I am beginning to think that just about anyone’s life is a wild ride, these days-even if he or she is a homebody. Surely, though, if I have a quiet day at Home Base, it’s in preparation for something intense that’s about to break. My dull days have certainly been few and far between. The Scorpian cusper fairly said the same about her own life. She also said that she has less of a sense that things are out of control, on a frenetic day-and more along the lines of “This is what I am choosing”.

There is certainly much to be said for that view of life. If one recognizes freedom of choice, then it is easier to take responsibility for what happens. That has been, intermittently, a weak spot of mine, corrected in recent years by self-discipline.

This unanticipated stock-taking happened to follow a brief, but temporarily unsettling conflict, earlier in the day. Thankfully, another of the Sag traits with which I’m saddled is not holding onto grudges. Every human deserves a second chance, and the person with whom I had a run-in thought things over and was more respectful towards me, within an hour. Life is too short for anything less.