Category Archives: children

Down Time

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Posted by on in children, collaborating, Entertainment, Family, impediments, Inspiration, Personal Values, Social, Striving, Travel

November 26, 2024, Grapevine, TX- There really is no such thing as down time.

Sitting in the arrivals area of Terminal B, at Dallas-Fort Worth International Airport, while waiting for my son to complete a personal matter, I got to witness several slices of life. A little girl followed her slightly older sister, in a version of mall walking. They circled around the luggage carousels, at least six times.

Another child decided she would push both her mother’s suitcase and her own, which had her backpack balanced on top. The experiment fell apart, when the backpack tumbled off. Mom just took her suitcase and carried the backpack. Child had enough to handle with her own bag.

Little boy decided he would run around and check out the moving carousel. His gentle mother came and picked him up, soothing his squalling voice, by explaining that she needed his help in finding their suitcase. She did not let him climb into the empty bin that was going around the carousel. Oh, the minds of toddlers!

There was no down time, once Aram came and got me at the passenger pick-up point. We discussed some aspects of my game plan for next year. We also had a wide-ranging discussion of current events. There were errands done, a nap taken (okay, that was my “down time” again) and the three of us watching The Goonies, which Yunhee and I had never seen. I found it interesting, seeing actors I only know from adult roles (Sean Astin, Josh Brolin, Martha Plimpton) in their early years and John Matuszak, a professional football player, who became an actor, as the unlikely hero, Sloth. The silly film’s redeeming plot twist came when the namesake group of kids came to the deformed, but intelligent, Sloth’s defense.

In a world of humans, individual needs and interesting sideshows, there is no real down time.

Angelic Troublemakers

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Posted by on in children, collaborating, Community, Inspiration, Personal goals, Personal Values, service, Social, Spiritual, Striving

November 23, 2024- “We need, in every community, a group of angelic troublemakers”-Bayard Rustin

An angelic troublemaker is defined as “someone who uses their life to disrupt the status quo in a positive way”. The above quote was among those cited this evening by a community activist who definitely has challenged the status quo, in positive ways, over a period of twenty years. One of her actions involved playing an accordion in the midst of a rally of an angry demonstration, two or three years ago. It had a calming effect on some of the ragers, and she was not hurt.

Angelic troublemakers were responsible for much of the progress the nation, and the world, have seen over the past eighty years or so. Certainly Mohandas Gandhi would fall into that category. So would most of the rank and file in the American Civil Rights movements. Others, like yours truly, fall into the category of angelic troublemakers with tight halos, stumbling into acts of goodness as often as we intentionally walk into them. Most of the time, though, some good comes out of what we do.

I open my big mouth as often on behalf of people with whom I disagree on many things, as I do on behalf of kindred spirits. We have, in this physical world, a duty to listen to all sides, even the most outwardly ludicrous, in order to glean the whole truth of any matter. So, the “Flat Earther” can spout his gibberish, and maybe one or two kernels of truth will drop to the floor. The person who claims to be from the Pleiades can also spew forth a barrage of nonsense, and we may actually learn something about the greater Universe, in the process.

Where I draw the line is with those whose beliefs, when acted upon, cause harm to children, teens and other vulnerable people. There is no quarter for pedophiles, for vaccine deniers who also adhere to a diet of processed foods, for human traffickers, and for those who believe in price gouging of medicine and care for the chronically ill, the infirm elderly, the disabled and the mentally ill. I have no use for those who tell veterans and families of dead First Responders that they are on their own. I detest warmongers, no matter how “worthy” the pretext for their rampage.

So, on we go, us good troublemakers, angelic and otherwise.

Misogyny

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Posted by on in children, collaborating, Community, Family, Inspiration, Personal goals, Personal Values, Social, Spiritual, Striving

November 17, 2024- I watched the first episode of “Lioness” this evening. It is a spy thriller, centered on women secret agents and fighters, in a Middle Eastern backdrop. Each of the women has a male advocate, if not a lover. They just don’t really need those men, day to day. One of the central characters comes to the Lioness program by way of escaping from a gang of disaffected, misogynistic men.

I thought back to how I was raised-to be a gentleman (by my father), countered by male peers who were alternately respectful of our mothers, sisters, grandmothers and aunts, while carrying a veneer of seeing other girls and women as means to an end. It was the stuff of adolescence, certainly, but subliminally was carried forward into our group psyches.

My wife became my equal, my partner, by dint of her sheer intellect and tough personality. Penny grew to become nobody’s fool. I became someone who did not need a fool. As the first true love of my maturity grew into a fully independent woman, so I began to grow into a fully independent man. From there, we both became interdependent.

In the years immediately following her passing, I found the sticky residue of my adolescence clinging to my psyche. As sheer will power and prayer had helped me shed alcohol dependency, thirty years earlier, so did they help me shed the stench of misogyny that was trying to get out. I let it out, along with the lack of self-esteem that is behind all such negative dust. True maturity had been reached.

Young men, around the world, face challenges to their self-concept that have historically been faced by posturing, adopting a dominant position towards their female peers and subscribing to a false sense of entitlement. This is the ethos of The Pack. There is an alpha male, but his “true strength” is only evident when the rest of the peer group is present, for reinforcement. The public face of misogyny is the Incel (“involuntary celibate”), who takes the stance that abstinence from sex is being forced on him by a conspiracy of women and other men.

In truth, though, focusing on one’s sexuality is dealing with only the outer trappings of insecurity. Procreation has an important place in the order of society, but it is only a place. A person, male or female, who has been raised to truly value self, who is focused on his/her totality: Intellect, variety of interests, physical stamina, dreams and goals, social skills, spirituality-will be more likely to know success, to be resilient in the face of challenges and less likely to blame others when things go wrong.

These are things I have come to fully realize, over the past fourteen years.

Little Bubbles Burst

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Posted by on in Assistance, children, collaborating, impediments, Personal Values, Social, Spiritual, Striving

November 15, 2024- The young boy was at the end of his rope, sitting with an otherwise all-adult crowd, listening to songs not intended for his ears, because his mother had no choice other than to bring him along. Chairs were strung together, he laid down on them and managed to sleep for 30 minutes or so. The singer of ribald tunes noticed and sheepishly apologized, after his collaborator in the artists’ nook gave him The Look. The fare was noticeably more family friendly afterward. One little bubble got burst.

Not long ago, a woman frantically berated her co-worker for having stated that she voted a conservative slate, up and down ballot, almost two weeks ago. “You’re Mexican! Don’t you care that these guys are going to throw us all in private prison!!” The chastised one looked up and said, “Remember Vicente Fox? Adolfo Lopez Mateos? Besides, you and I are native born U.S. citizens. We need to be safe from the sicarios. The tough guys will do that for us.” Neither bubble was burst, by this conversation, but at least it happened.

The doctors, in a small urban hospital, on an island far to the northeast, routinely dismissed women who came to them with chronic pain. The issues presented seemed too “intractable”. Problems are supposed to just go away, when one is overburdened by being part of a short staff. That all stopped, when one of the “frequent flyers” up and died-from the cancer that was missed. The bubble of preconceived notions was burst, and loudly.

Our mental bubbles seem to keep us safe; until they don’t.

Things That Need to Be Over and Stay Gone

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Posted by on in children, collaborating, Community, Family, impediments, Matters of Faith, Personal Values, Social, Spiritual, Striving

November 7, 2024- This is just a list, of those social constructs and practices that I think should be relegated to the scrap heap, and stay gone.

Slavery; sex trafficking; spouse beating; child beating (not mild spanking, beating); beating of animals; coerced sex; drug trafficking; less-than-living wages; intentional spewing of heavy motor vehicle exhaust; intentional littering and illegal dumping; nuisance litigation,especially by the wealthy against the poor; intentional poisoning of soil and water; individual possession of military-grade weapons and ordnance; denigration of any country, ethnic group or organized community; parentally-induced sexual transition of anyone under the age of 18; persecution of any bona fide community of faith in the Divine.

A few of these are bound to rankle some and irritate others. So be it. Some of these are bound to remain within the scope of individual choice. So be it. I just think that, all in all, we will have a much better world without these examples of inhumanity, or of people living through others.

Buglasan, and A Mineral Bath

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

October 22, 2024, Valencia, Negros- “A” couldn’t get his photo taken, by his Dad, often enough. There were so many colourful and elaborate displays, from various communities in the province of Negros Oriental, that a child of any age could be enthralled for hours-and some of us were.

Buglasan, the Festival of Festivals, is Dumaguete’s celebration of its neighbours in the eastern portion of the island of Negros. Here are some scenes of the displays and other activities.

Exhibit from Manjuyod.
Exhibit of a bond
Exhibit from Bais
Exhibit from Dauin
Exhibit from Tanjay
Rainbow Carabao
Negros Oriental Provincial Capitol (above and below)
The colours of Pamplona (Negros, not Espana)
Exhibit from Valencia (also Negros, not Espana)
The bright and shining province, of “gentle people”.

Anis and I also enjoyed a visit to Red Rock Hot Spring, where a happy family danced about, in the midst of the warm pool that we chose to soak away any aches we may have accumulated. No one could ache for long, in the company of these ebullient folks.

Also most enjoyable was a walk up to Sheintan Ridge View, where one may get a close up of Cebu Island, across Tanon Strait.

Finally, here is Anis at his third restaurant’s wood fire oven. Anyone desiring a quality thin crust pizza will not go wrong at Neva’s Place, with three branches: Puerto Princesa (Palawan), Dumaguete and Valencia (pictured above).

This day of relaxation was interrupted, briefly, by a power outage, which made our return from Buglasan quite interesting. The lights came back on, about ten minutes after I arrived back at the Shahidis’ home.

Compressed

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

October 21, 2024, Valencia, Negros- The word came early this morning: What had been a carefully-planned, manageable schedule of product deliveries and shipment, over a four-day period, was now to be done locally today, with the deliveries to the next island over to be done tomorrow.

I was given the choice, by my hosts, who are the company owners, to relax and maybe visit a few natural attractions nearby, or to go along with them for the day’s local deliveries. I chose the latter. I was raised with a work ethic, and spirit of service. If something in front of me needed doing, I was as good as anyone to do it.

We went first to the company’s production center and warehouse, where a bustling crew had packed over 100 boxes of product, and carefully labeled each box. There were six different places to which the product had to be delivered today, so correct labeling was essential. The crew did very well, in all aspects.

There were a few snags, owing to the suddenness of the changes in schedule, and to issues at the receiving venues themselves. By and large, however, it was a successful day. I got in a fine amount of exercise, the delivery man drove like a madman, and everything that was on the list to be done was accomplished. Point of information: This is a company that produces healing drink mix powders, with ginger and turmeric in several of the compounds. It is good for the products to be distributed with dispatch.

I am staying at the home of the owners, one of whom I have known for several years now. They are doing quite well, but I daresay they have earned every bit of good fortune.

View of Tanon Strait, from Valencia.
Rooftop view towards Cebu
View of Siquijor Island
Haka master, Ali, and his big family (Above and below)
So, with this nice dinner of chicken and “black” rice (it’s actually red), a very fruitful day came to a close.

Camia Garlands and A Filipino Banquet

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Posted by on in Assistance, children, collaborating, Community, impediments, Matters of Faith, Personal goals, Personal Values, Social, Spiritual, Striving, Travel

October 10, 2024, Manila- The little entrepreneur was down to his last few hand-strung garlands of sweet-smelling camia blossoms. As we sat in a group and discussed various aspects of life in Manila and the urban U.S., one of our group members purchased the rest of the garlands. One was given to each of the women in our group, and I kept one for K, in case she was able to join us later.

Koi The’ Bubble Tea Shop, One Ayala Mall, Makati

Our host, Nelson (seated to my right, with ball cap), then brought us to MESA, a Filipino restaurant, where we enjoyed a full range of regional and national culinary treats: Pork belly (Binaggongan baboy), baked scallops in shell, suahe (large shrimp, barbecued in shell), sisig (fried rice with minced pork), various chicken dishes and a flounder-like baked fish, along with various side dishes whose names I did not quite catch.

It was a fitting celebration of both Nelson’s return here (he lives in the U.S. ) and that of a revered Baha’i elder, who lives primarily in the U.K. The rest of us were honoured just to be along for the gathering.

Part of me would not mind relocating here. There is more of the universal way of thinking, a collective mindset, to which I long ago became hard-wired. It will depend on how things go in a certain friendship, so we’ll see. Nevertheless, I have bonds here, for the rest of my life-much like in Home Base I, and in a number of other places across North America, in South Korea and in Europe. I can’t ever look at life through a dark glass again.

Nampo Garcia- A Street Kid Story

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Posted by on in Assistance, children, collaborating, Community, Education, Family, impediments, Inspiration, Matters of Faith, Personal goals, Personal Values, Service Activities, Social, Spiritual, Striving, Travel

October 9, 2024, Manila- (Any connection between the characters in this tale and real people is purely coincidental.)

I felt the blade at my back,as I retrieved the cash from the ATM. “Now, you will give me the due that you refused, back at the Light Rail station!”, snarled a voice at the other end of the knife. “Will I, now?”, I responded, in my best fake Irish brogue. I looked at the wad of bills, then glanced over at the small pair of hands to my right, cupped and ready.

I tossed the folded bills to a chuckling, triumphant street boy. The hapless beggar took off after Nampo, dropping his knife and momentarily forgetting about me. The boy, little more than 3’8” and 50 pounds soaking wet, ran around the floral planter that graced the front of my hostel, all the while holding the cash, in a teasing manner, as the half-addled thief continued to pursue him, like a cat chasing its own tail.

Nampo knew the drill. He ran up to the hostel’s security guard and stood still, until I came up the steps. His meal depended on not running afoul of Steven Morales, who had often graciously provided the boy, and his little sister, with one of the hostel restaurant’s signature burgers or at least one of its ample rice bowls. Tonight, though, as Steven handcuffed the foolish beggar, I took Nampo inside the cafe, and for once, the Chinese owner did not wince and start fussing in Mandarin, about “a mouse being in the house”. Nampo had a full meal and was allowed to take an order to go, for his sister, who was waiting at their makeshift cardboard and plywood hut, off Dominga Street.

“Uncle Rama”, Nampo queried, as we ate, “do you have a friend like me, back in Bengaluru?” “Actually, I have several such friends, Nampo”, I responded. “You see, not so long ago, I too was sleeping under rattan and cardboard, frequently crying myself to sleep and keeping one eye open. The street bandits back in India are not so easy to elude, as the drugged up fiends here in Manila.”

“Not all the thieves here are drugged up”, answered Nampo, “in fact, the only reason I can leave Shakira alone is because we have Auntie Jinja looking after us. Her son, Raul, is also here, visiting his mother and taking her to see a doctor, for her diabetes. Raul said that if he needs to take his mother back to his house in Sucot, we will go with them-and he will make sure we go to school every day.”

I felt relieved at this news and as I walked Nampo back to his encampment, thought of how lucky this resourceful little boy was, to have found Jinja, and by extension, Raul, in the first place. Then again, it was Nampo’s heart energy, taking care of little Shakira, and his pluckiness at cultivating a security guard and a tourist as his friends, that most appealed to my own heart. As it happened, Raul had gone to the hardware, on P. Ocampo, and purchased a few folding chairs. His mother was sitting in one, and he, in another. The dutiful son beckoned me to sit for a while. “Would you care for a cup of iced tea?” “That would be heavenly”, I replied, taking the last empty chair, as Nampo sat down on a bean bag seat, which Raul had also purchased. Shakira was asleep on a small cot, covered with a clean sheet, again provided by the dutiful son.

This night would pass safely for the makeshift family, and soon the four of them would head past the Ninoy Aquino International Airport, through Paranaque to the seaside community of Sucot. I would be heading home to Karnataka, in a few days, and thought that I would make more of an effort to help the urchins in my home city, in honour of Nampo and Shakira.

(The street children of Manila are definitely winsome and engaging. It is their sheer number that prevents meaningful individual assistance, but there are a number of organizations, such as Children International, which I use as a vehicle to help two families, and Save the Children, that can provide assistance to destitute children and their families. Nampo and Shakira are fictional characters, but there are people who fit their description all over the streets of Metro Manila-and other Philippine cities.)

Baccarat

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Posted by on in children, collaborating, Community, impediments, Inner Struggles, Inspiration, Personal Values, Service Activities, Social, Spiritual, Striving

October 5, 2024, Manila- What I was told, about yesterday’s travails, more than tugged at my heartstrings. I said as much, and sincerely want to be there, when life goes off the rails for one who has had to struggle on her own, for far too long. I said that, too.

Maybe because she has a need to do things on her own, to struggle and see things through, my comments were met with a shrug. It’s hard to say; after all, I can only be here, this time, for three more weeks. Then I have to return to North America, to at the very least meet obligations, and at the very most finish up what I started, before I met her. While I am back at Home Base, and elsewhere on the continent where I have spent most of my life, K will be here, carrying on and relying on her own abilities and talents. I will be offering moral support, from a distance, and that’s all.

In the game of Baccarat, a player holds two hands and a dealer, one. The player may bet for or against either hand, or against the dealer’s. In life, one can show confidence in the figurative hand one has been dealt or plan against it-or may challenge the hand held by the person in control.

So, I can move forward with confidence, make plans to return here next May, with or without any guarantee that I will initially be welcomed again. I can “bet against my own hand”, put it down and stay put in Home Base, being thankful for even having had time with K, at all. I can bet against the dictates of conventional wisdom, and come here with a greater purpose: To do, in the Philippines and southeast Asia what a core group are doing in the Phoenix area. None of these options depends on the strength of a relationship with a specific person-and that is most likely what would actually save it. Independence reassures-and draws people in.

It’s easy, in some ways, to get young people here involved in the building of an equitable society. They are more likely to bring their friends along to a gathering and to take leadership roles, without being prodded. There is no residue of “Children should be seen and not heard”; no noxious after-scent from the Victorian Era. For their part, youth are more prone to thinking before acting or speaking. A good part of that has to do with numbers: People under the age of 30 constituted 60 % of the Philippine population, in the 2020 Census. The percentage of youth in the United States population, according to the same census, is 28.6 %.

Youth in developing nations, like the Philippines, are more likely to be in the driver’s seat, so to speak than their peers are in the developed countries, whose populations are both aging out and much more in a state of time consciousness. There is much that we can learn from countries like the Philippines, in terms of youth engagement.

I hope, thus, to pick up some of those lessons, in the next three weeks-and trust that the right course of action in 2025 will make itself known.