Seat of Honour

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November 12, 2023- The full chocolate cake, with frosting to match, fit the recipient’s taste to a tee. I recall this, as her choice of cake for my birthday gathering, six years ago, was this exact recipe. She got to keep the greater part of that cake, since there was only so much that I wanted to stick in my freezer for parceling out, over the subsequent days.

It had to be carefully choreographed, as this gathering in her birthday honour was following a business meeting, and was a follow-up to the surprise birthday party she had staged for her husband, a few weeks ago. He, of course, turned the tables, saying nothing about today’s surprise. It was a nice ending to a well-organized meeting.

There should be a place of honour for each soul, at the right time. Many go through life without so much as a stale crust of bread. They don’t complain, mostly because they have little strength. They deserve a place of honour, and will someday get it. Others go through life, squawking about every little slight-and letting the rest of us know just how much we have let them down. They deserve a place of honour, too, just not to the extent they tell themselves so. People like today’s birthday lady, though, have endured a fair amount of physical and emotional pain-and have walked through it, with little fanfare. Only when her loved ones’ safety is at risk, do the rest of us get put on notice about being extra careful.

Today was her time in the sun-and she got to keep the bulk of the cake this time, as well!

Hours of Power

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November 11, 2023- Settling in, to enjoy ninety minutes of pulsating, original rock songs, by one of Prescott’s most pulsating, original bands-The CheekTones, I was pleasantly surprised when two young ladies I had not seen before sat themselves at the table, joined, for good measure,a few minutes later by two of their male classmates, then by a shyer, more reticent girl.

The first two asked me general questions about my day, and how I enjoyed The Raven-and the CheekTones. It turned out they were mostly there to support one of the boys who was playing a song with Don Cheek and his band. The kid can play! His parents were there, for the moment-as were these classmates. The girls spoke a bit about their after school jobs-shopping cart jockey, beverage pourer at a local burger joint and juice bar attendant. The boys had nothing to say. Then we all turned our full attention to the band.

Don has had a band presence here, at least since I moved up from Phoenix, in 2011. He has been mentoring young musicians for probably twice that long. He inspired, and supports, another local band, Scandalous Hands, who appear regularly at The Raven, as well. The two bands do 95% of their performances in Prescott clubs and outdoor venues-going, every so often, to Sedona or to Parker, on the Colorado River. Such energy conservation has its benefits-and is rather common, to local bands. It’s a huge reason why their performances here tend towards the intense, the explosive and are so inspirational to young artists.

The kids excused themselves, after forty minutes or so, to go do teen-specific activities. They popped back in one more time, towards the end of the concert, just so I wouldn’t think it was because of me that they left the first time. Nah-I was there once, long ago. It was good they stopped back in, though. I had the young guitarist’s finger warmers on the table and would not have been able to return them, save through Don-who has enough to concern himself.

There was a lot of power in the air today. It is categorized, by astrologers and cosmic advisers, as an Eleven Master Day-meaning that its digits, 1+1+1+1+2+2+3, add up to eleven. A pair of ones, written side by side, are also seen by the mystics as being pillars of both male and female energy.

Today was Veterans Day, and there was a long parade, part of which I watched, before heading to Farmers Market, to tend to the only service day I could offer there, this month. In early evening, I sat in on a Healing Devotional, hosted by someone who was attacked last month. She is on the mend, though, and is still working with police in her community, to try and locate her assailant, before another attack happens.

Each of these events had a power of its own, as did the initial responses to my joining subgroups of nextdoor.com. It has never been easy for me to accept compliments and positive views from others, but that is changing-at long last. It does not have to conflict with personal modesty-and is good for building the energy flow that I need, in order to accomplish what lies ahead, both here and further afield. One friend says my travel is foolish, but deep down inside, I think she is only masking her own wish for a more expansive life, something that those who controlled her life for so long would never allow.

Each of us can move ahead, and as long as we support one another, in our struggles with our own egos and with those who would try to stifle us, for their own ends.

Different, but Not Blind

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November 10, 2023- An old friend, who I hadn’t seen for a while, regarded me with some concern: She remembered me as a chunky, 186-pounder. I am now 30 lbs lighter, which I fear may have triggered memories of her late husband, in his last stages of life-and the anniversary of his departure is two weeks after Thanksgiving. My weight reduction, which has about six more pounds to shed, is intentional, and the recent bout with the flu aside, there is no medical evidence of any carcinogenic or pathological roots to the ongoing loss. I am just eating carefully and getting sufficient exercise and rest.

Still and all, my friend’s sensitivity, and the memory of her dear husband, need to be honoured. I will be stopping by her establishment a fair number of times, over the next several months-especially in December-mainly to listen. Tonight, the place was very busy, and our conversation was brief.

She had a question or two about my Philippine visit-her main interest being the young man I have been sponsoring-and the pair of basketball shoes that he was able to select for himself. She is not one who thinks much of travel for its own sake-a good many self-employed people have the same take, for obvious reasons. Making friends and building networks, which are also my own on-the-road focus, make sense to her.

Earlier today, Hiking Buddy and I took in Willow Lake, a smaller reservoir to the northwest of Watson Lake. It is separated from its larger mate, by the Granite Dells-whose western edge is also called Willow Dells. We focused on the west and south sides of the lake shore. HB’s interest in my trip was mainly in the places I visited with friends, the quality of my photos and what, if any, was the effect on my health. (Truth be known, it was coming back to an unheated house that led to last Friday’s flu crash. I am just glad it didn’t hit the contagious phase until well after my Red Cross activity on Friday morning, and that I had until Tuesday to recover).

Cottonwoods and bog grass, in autumn transition.
Great Blue Heron, in repose.

Between this hike and my visit to the small cafe, there was the small matter of a haircut. So, back to Fantastic Sam’s it was, and in a half-hour or so, I no longer looked like a charging barbarian. My new stylist had questions of her own about Manila. She has a great yearning to get out and see things-and is mostly wanting to learn from other cultures. I pointed out that most people have no issue with Americans, as individuals. It is always wise to be aware of one’s surroundings and to maintain boundaries-but that it true right here, also.

In looking back on the three ladies’ perspectives, I am reminded of the old fable about the five men and the elephant. Everyone, whether blind or sighted, has interests that differ from others. This was underscored by my filling out a profile, this morning, for Next Door.com Interest groups abound, under that umbrella group-so it will be a fascinating exercise in networking.

The Sum of Ignorance

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November 7, 2023- As the short video played out, some of those who may well find themselves in harm’s way, eight years from now, should the penchant for war as a solution to global ills continue, were busy in denial- choosing to play around and insult each other, rather than show respect for those who have served.

I know it is the fear of death that spurs adolescent boys to act out, when conflict and war are mentioned, however respectfully. Yet, I’ve seen too much and lost too many friends, men and women alike, to abide their antics without comment. Disinterest, or even the appearance of same, is what leads to the rise of tyranny. Autocrats can smell apathy, the way bears can smell food, clearly and from a distance. I left that particular coterie to answer to their regular teacher.

This evening, with only a few exceptions, people turned away from ignorance. The right to life is universal, and it also cannot be a pretext for eliminating the growth of conscience among one’s neighbours. The solution to feeling the need to end another’s life is not statute, but careful use of the sex drive- which, to me, lies within marital union, however two people see that union. As long as that concept seems antiquated or somehow patriarchal, there will remain “unwanted” pregnancies. (Parents should NOT be arranging marriages, in this day of spreading universal education; they should certainly approve or disapprove their child’s choice of mate, but not make the choice for the child.) There remains, as we are seeing, a rising reverence for a human being’s right and duty to choose mindfully, as to what happens with his/her own body.

People also turned away from ignorance, in general. They did not turn away from traditional values, but from the notion that only a small group of elders can decide what’s best for the people. In the run-up to today’s vote, ignorant and ill -advised statements, by those who claim to represent conservatism, even about intimate details of their personal lives, did not do the movement of preservation any favours.

” For the wages of sin is death…..”- St.Paul’s Letter to the Romans, 6:23. The sum of ignorance, whether on the Right or on the Left, is zero.

Delusions

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November 5, 2023- “Those Gazans aren’t people, they’re Muslims!” This bit of breaking news came from a fairly intelligent man, but one who also ascribes inhumanity to Democrats and Socialists-though one of his best friends is of the latter ilk. My simple retort was that Muslims are human beings, just as we are. The subject was dropped, when no one else jumped in on his behalf.

There was a brief murmur of assent, to the notion that it might be acceptable to have a President running things from a prison cell. My thoughts are that it would be interesting, for all of a week. The Vice President would then be the most powerful person ever to hold that office. From there, the deluded thinking dissolved into comments about alternatives to an incarcerated Chief Executive. Now, at least, I no longer felt as if I’d entered the Twilight Zone.

This is part and parcel of what happens, when people are either so enamoured of a certain individual or so disgusted by another-or both, that there is no scenario in which the first person is disqualified, or the second given a pass. Delusions, though, as any veteran of life under an autocracy will attest, seldom bring much surety to actual peoples’ daily lives. This is as true of those living under the yoke of Islamic militants as it is of those who live in countries where the one-party, one-ruler system has been in place for decades. It would become true of this country, if the majority, or a distinct plurality, of the voters follow the direction of their delusions.

I shudder at the thought of what may follow, for however brief a period that the autocracy is put in place.

Achers Away

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November 4, 2023- At first, my thought was “At long last, COVID”. Nope-the aches and flash fever were too familiar. It was that change of season flu, one more time. Someone, somewhere will shake their head and say, “There IS a flu shot, ya know”. Yes, there is-for the dominant strain(s) of influenza that the CDC has projected will be in the elements, for this particular season. It’s a crap shoot, and one that shortened the life of my father’s older brother, by maybe five years. The wrong strain of vaccine put Uncle George on oxygen and sidelined a vibrant, energetic soul. Science is most often inexact.

I have been selective about getting vaccinated, over the decades. COVID-19 was too vicious and too novel, so two injections went in my left arm, and I have not felt any change in my functioning or my behaviour, from either one. Tetanus and tuberculosis are two on which I stay current. The rest are, in my case, pretty much cash cows for Big Pharma, though I do recognize that others may need them. Being nearly 73, I don’t, as long as I keep up the daily doses of Lifelong Vitality supplements and maintain an active lifestyle.

That brings me to the Achilles heal: Keeping too tight a schedule. It caused headaches twice, on my recent trip to the Philippines. Having it to do over again, either there or on any long journey, I would allow more time, if taking a bus or train and would not schedule a flight the day after a long bus trip. Too many times, buses are slowed down by other traffic or by large numbers of passengers showing up, in a country town.

The second thing is: I will politely decline an invitation here at Home Base, the day after landing in Los Angeles or San Francisco. That is an element of people pleasing, which only ends up disappointing still other people-because I got sick from running on empty. We know to go slow, on the other end, and don’t overbook after landing in the foreign destination, but falling for the “friends and family are so excited to see you back” (mostly in my head), does nothing for either of us.

There are those who refer to every trip out of town as “vacation”, even if it happens once a month. They book no appointments, the day before leaving or the day after returning, even if it’s a road trip. Maybe they’re on to something.

The Anchor Is Still In Place

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November 2, 2023- The landlord was right there, as I approached the driveway, so I pulled around and up the south side of the horseshoe. He had done some work on the back door to Home Base, but went on to other tasks, so I could bring everything inside. After an exchange of pleasantries, and my reminding him to deposit the rent check, it was time for a rest.

The western end of the Pacific Rim feels like home, the way Jeju does-and San Diego, Grapevine, Santa Fe, Vancouver Island, Cortez, Bisbee, Philadelphia, Chicagoland, Mishawaka, Cape Breton, the North Shore of Massachusetts, a dozen places across the South-and here, Home Base Prescott, my anchor.

The difference in temperature is palpable-Manila was gorgeously warm and Prescott is, well, stimulating. I put the Korean comforter on my bed, and there it will stay until March or April. The human temperature, though, is warm all over. I was welcomed in Banning-at Sunset Motel and at Gramma’s Country Kitchen, my go-to spot for a delectable meal when passing through the Inland Empire, along I-10. I had no need to stop anywhere else, save getting gas in Coachella- where it is below $5 a gallon, once again. Once in Prescott, I picked up the mail, and attended a Red Cross monthly meeting. We will do smoke detector installations, later this month, and on other occasions, towards Spring. Then, it was time for a long evening’s rest.

So here I am, thinking of the Filipino/as who make my southwest Pacific anchor strong: Demure, soft-spoken Norlie, dedicated Ylona, fun-loving, intellectual and energetic Kathy, diligent firecracker Arlene, the singing waiter and cook at Sky Pad, the kind and sweet-faced laundress of Santa Ana and all those hotel staffers and drivers who went the extra mile for me. I have only scratched the surface of that unique nation, and have promised Norlie and Kathy that I will be back, for more extensive efforts, in 2025, in-between long-delayed time in Europe and northeast Asia. Perhaps N’s beloved will be there, by then, and a group of us can visit other islands, and parts of Luzon together.

Here I am, prepping for the activities that lie ahead this month, including the now traditional week in Grapevine and thereabouts, the teaching work, the Farmers Market winter hours and installing fire alarms in the northwest AZ town of Kingman.

Here I am, feeling anchored and appreciated.

Expanding Home, Day 23: 25 Hours

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November 1, 2023, Banning (CA)- Momentarily forgetting that I had checked my Cotopaxi backpack, through from LAX to San Diego, I went back in and asked an agent about the process for finding misplaced items. Her generic answer, and showing me where to head, in order to locate it, gave enough space for my reality to set in. The bag was actually in good hands, and I could head to the domestic TSA inspection, then to the last leg of my return flight.

I got a decent amount of sleep last night, but “last night” in the Philippines ended at 5 a.m., this morning, when it was 8 p.m., Tuesday night, in California. So, by the time I landed in San Diego, it was 5:30 p.m. here and 8:30 a.m., Thursday morning, in Manila. By the time I had caught the shuttle to long-term parking, retrieved Sportage and driven here, to Sunset Motel, it was 8:15 here-and…you get the picture.

I had a nice breakfast at Cherry Selections, in the lobby of Manila Airport Hotel, then bid farewell to my friends in Airlane Village and walked over to Terminal 1-again gently guided by a series of gatekeepers, to the proper queue and the China Air block of service booths. Philippine TSA provides a quick inspection, so that part took only three minutes or so.

Once on board, it was my turn to take one of the middle seats-only fair, as the flight over was spent in aisle seats only. Everyone has to take an aisle seat, or two, once in a while. The seats on China Air vessels are roomy and ergonomically sound, which is not the case with some North American carriers. We were served a late breakfast, which in my case served as lunch. Arriving in T’aipei, we had to undergo Taiwan TSA inspection, before boarding the trans-Pacific leg of the jaunt. There was then a three-hour wait, as the plane had technical issues, that were addressed in orderly fashion.

One of you asked about changes in air , with those on either side of me. I found the Taiwanese seatmates on the first leg, quiet and pensive. They also spoke little English. The American man, to my left, on the longer flight, was aloof and wary; the Brazilian gentleman to my right was exhausted, but cordial. I was just grateful for the leg room, and the service. Truth be known, I probably would have faded out, on chattier seatmates. All told, five or six hours of sleep transpired on the three legs-with the short hop from LA to San Diego actually finding me in the deepest sleep-albeit a thirty-five minute cat nap.

Gaffes were few, and no one-except you, the readers, are aware of my brain fart, concerning the checked-in backpack. There was a bit of comedy-as I tried to open a cosmetic bin door, which had no latch, and the officious lead flight attendant rolled her eyes and told me to look to the overhead bin on my left. Thus did this groggy one leave the T’aipei-LA plane and make his way to the immigration queue.

Once re-united with the backpack, in San Diego, it took fifteen minutes for the shuttle driver from Fox Auto Parks to arrive, and ten minutes for him to get five of us to our waiting vehicles. Reunited with Sportage, I drove up to Escondido for gas, and coffee, then over to this pleasant little high desert city, and the clean, comfortable Sunset Motel. It’s been twenty-five hours, or so it seems. G’night, all!

Expanding Home, Day 22: No Cause for Fright

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October 31, 2023, Paranaque- My good friend told me of her travails and of the man who loves her. Her situation is complex, and we will leave it at that. I feel, in my heart, though, that they will be together-sooner rather than later.

Another good friend, in Bicol, tells me of her struggle with the landed powers-that-be. This, I advised her, is the duty of the Barangay, in the vicinity of her farm, to resolve. What is a barangay? Dr. Paul R. Edleman, of Sauk Valley Community College, Dixon, IL, explains it well:

“In this lesson students will be introduced to the Philippine government system, with special
attention given to the smallest unit of Philippine government, the Barangay. Modeled after the
American system, the Philippine national government has an executive branch and president, a
bicameral legislature with a House of Representatives and a Senate, and a judicial branch with the Philippine Supreme Court presiding over the federal court system. Administratively, the
Philippines is broken down into successively smaller political units. Below the national
government there exist the provinces and independent cities, then municipalities, and finally the barangay. The barangay is significant because it addresses local governing issues from laws, to development, to festival preparation. The barangay also plays an important role in dispute resolution at the local level outside the court system. By the end of this lesson students will have examined the Philippine government system and be able to identify its unique characteristics.
Information contained in this module include a summary of the Philippine government system from the national level to the local level, a series of student reading questions, several images related the barangay system, and links to additional readings and resources”.- Paul R. Edleman, PhD. https://www.niu.edu/clas/cseas/_pdf/lesson-plans/fulbright-hays/philippine-political-structure.pdf

The closest institution in the United States to a barangay is that of a county judge, in, say, Texas. A barangay council also resembles the Town Meeting system in some New England states. In any case, yesterday saw the elections of barangay members, all across the Philippines, from Batanes in the north, to Tawi-Tawi, in the southwest.

Most banks and government institutions were closed, as were museums and those public places that needed to be staffed. Rizal Park, being open-air, was not closed, though the staff was limited. The faithful laundress, who has tended to my sartorial hygiene, was on the job, and of course, the tuk tuks and jittneys were going full steam.

Today, I bid farewell to my friend, Norlie, my host for gatherings at the Baha’i National Center, and via social media to friend Arlene, in Bicol, and Kathy, in nearby Makati. These ladies are among the new friends who will remain in my heart-and of course, I will maintain contact with them, as with all those who matter dearly. It was gratifying that, when I returned to Manila Airport Hotel, and to Sky Pad Restaurant, here in Airplane Village, the staff were overjoyed and gracious.

It may be Halloween, but tomorrow here is All Saints Day, a two-day affair that is a major Philippine national holiday. I’ve never regarded Halloween as much more than a trifle, though as a child, I enjoyed dressing up and going house to house, gathering goodies. Mom had us all dump our treats on a single sheet, that she had spread out on the dining room table. Then, she inspected each wrapped candy, or piece of fruit, for evidence of tampering. We never suffered from anyone’s malice. Penny and I continued along that regimen, when Aram went out on his goody gathering. For good measure, I usually went with him.

So, tomorrow is largely to be spent between airports and on planes-with the reverse of the trip to Asia: It’ll be 5:35 p.m., November 1, when I get back to San Diego. Life will richly go on.

Expanding Home, Day 21: A Fourth Homage

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October 30, 2023, Manila- The unmistakably fierce eyes and scowl look straight ahead, at opposite ends of the grassy mall, in Rizal Park. The Philippines’ first national hero, long before there was a Philippines, and the man credited with ending Ferdinand Magellan’s circumnavigation of the globe, has been granted a Janus-like status at the country’s premier greenspace.

Lapulapu was an immigrant, from what is now Sabah, the northeastern state of Malaysia. He arrived on Mactan, a small island off the coast of the central Philippine island of Cebu, in the early 1500s and was given land by the Datu (Chief) of Cebu, as he expressed a desire to live as a peaceful farmer. Lapulapu’s leadership skills soon made him a Datu in his own right. Con trolling Mactan, which is at the head of the Cebu Strait, actually made him more powerful than the Datu of Cebu, whose name was Humabon.

As the Spanish and Portuguese pursued colonization of the vast Malay region, seeking to wrest control of the spice trade, from China, and from other European forces, the Spanish gravitated towards the northeastern islands of the archipelago, naming them in honour of King Philip II, of Spain, upon the completion of their conquest. The Spaniards managed to temporarily obtain the fealty of Datu (also called Rajah) Humabon, and one of his vassals, known as Zula. In conducting their politics, however, the Spanish took a Euro-centric view of Malay society, and regraded Humabon as an overlord, or king, of the Cebu region. In reality, the area was governed as a loose council of city-states, with Humabon and Lapulapu essentially being equals. Magellan’s appeal, upon his arrival in 1521, was to Lapulapu to “follow the example of his King” and submit to Spanish rule. The Datu of Mactan refused, and became enraged when Magellan’s men set fire to houses in Mactan’s main village. In an ensuing battle, Magellan and his men were killed.

Lapulapu has thus become a symbol of the Filipinos’ spirit of independence and resistance to foreign rule. This spirit never died, through nearly four centuries of Spanish rule and a half-century of occupation by the United States and Japan. It has helped propel the islands forward, into a growing economic force and a nation that is finding its footing.

Along with my host, Norlie, I stood in respect at Lapulapu’s bust, ironically after having walked through Rizal Park’s Japanese Garden. Here is that likeness of the great Datu, and some scenes from our Barangay Election Day outing. (More on Barangays, in the next post.)

Datu Lapulapu, looking east
and west, (along with a modern proud Filipina).
Rizal Park’s rapprochement with Japan.
Sacred stone arrangement
Bonsai
Small koi fry
Standing “guard” on the bridge.
One of the last massacres of Filipinos, under Spanish rule-the 13 Martyrs of Bagumbayan.
Gate of Entry and Departure

This last is an apt description, as my time here in Manila gets short. It’s been, though, a continuation of all the love that I have felt, these past many years-and all the more so as my own act has gotten together more cogently. My hope is that blessings shower upon all those who have offered that love.