October 28, 2023, Manila- Although you didn’t ask, I will tell you anyway: With not much going on today, I busied myself in learning how to count by ones, then by tens and thousands,in Tagalog. Here is the chart for which you have all been waiting!
One Isa; Two Dalawa; Three Tatlo; Four Apat; Five Lihma;
Six Anim; Seven Pito; Eight Wahlo; Nine Seeyam; Ten Sampu
Hundred Isang Daan Thousand Isang Libo Ten Thousand Sampung Libo
Hundred Thousand Isang Daan Libo Million Isang Milyon Billion Isang Bilyon
Some other essentials: Hello is……Hello! Goodbye is Paalam. Please is Pakiusap. Thank you is Salamat po. Excuse me is Pasensya na po. Yes is Oo. No is Hindi. No thank you is Hindi salamat. How are you? is Kamusta? Pleased to meet you is Nagagalak ako na makilala kaed.
Of course, most Filipinos know at least a fair amount of English, but like people anywhere, they appreciate an effort by visitors to speak the language of their heart. It is unfortunate, in my view, that salamat is being replaced by Thank you, but that is the trend, here in Manila, at least.
To keep up a visual of the Baha’i National Center, here is the dignified Seat of the National Spiritual Assembly of the Baha’is of the Philippines.
Meeting Room of National Spiritual Assembly, Manila (Above and below)
October 26, 2023, Manila- I looked out the window of my 10th floor room, early this morning, and saw this:
Seen on top of a high rise condominium, Manila
What better way is there to start the day?
This was to be a day for security duty, so we will not be out and about much. We sat in the Center and studied a bit, but otherwise were still with our own thoughts, and watchful. It is a fairly quiet neighbourhood, by Filipino standards. That means that the motorcycles and tuk tuks still go back and forth, and toot for the fight of way, and people are constantly back and forth, on foot-but there is no drama and few people coming to the door, to ask for food or money.
I got fresh insight into my long-range guidance and the resultant plans, from now until 2030, with the primary notion that family needs trump even the most worthy of Baha’i-based travel or Home Base activities. That ought to be true, for everyone, everywhere, but this is not a perfect world. The news came, this morning, on a Baha’i Zoom call, that a gunman-apparently mentally ill, had killed 18 and wounded 13, in an enraged attack on bowling alley and bar, in the small city of Lewiston, Maine.
I have been through Lewiston, and neighbouring Auburn, several times, but have not stopped there for any length of time. Nonetheless, my heart melts at the horror the people there must be feeling. All of this is due, essentially, to the view that the mentally ill deserve to be able to defend themselves, under the Second Amendment to the United States Constitution. I beg to differ-in that a schizophrenic’s or manic depressive’s idea of self-defense is often based on delusional thinking. The attacker in today’s shootings told his family, not too long ago, that he was hearing voices in his head. In my family, the minute such a statement was made, there would be securing of weapons-not just firearms, but knives, nunchucks/stars,even 2 x 4s. The afflicted one would be kept as safe as possible, but not on his/her own. Those who insist otherwise, in the name of a conservative interpretation of freedom, are themselves engaged in delusional thinking.
There is no rest, in Lewiston, in Gaza, in southern Israel, in Darfur, or in any of two dozen other places where violence and rage are the norm. So, here we rest, and count our blessings.
October 25, 2023, Manila- The clerk smiled wanly, as he told my friend that the matter she is seeking to resolve can only be tended through making an appointment, and that appointment can only be made over the phone-on a Tuesday or on a Thursday. This is the legacy of the “State Department streamlining” that was in vogue, until a few years ago. While I can understand the reasoning behind it, there remain those, like my friend, whose anomalous issues merit rather urgent consideration, and thus are discomfited by what they can reasonably view as just another roadblock.
I will fortunately be around until Tuesday, so if she misses making the call tomorrow, there is always Hallowe’en morning, before I have to Alley-oop back to Airplane Village. This is one of the tasks that was before me, when I first arrived at the South Luzon Baha’i Center, so it is important to keep on top of it, at leas to the point that she feels encouraged and empowered. (It has nothing to do with immigration, just so we’re clear.)
The gatekeepers at the Embassy do have their work cut out for them, with many people who are looking to immigrate to the U.S., or at least obtain short-term work visas. The Filipinos who I have encountered in the U. S. are amazing workers and have a gentleness about how they go about their work. They keep their cool and try to work through any bureaucratic nonsense that arises, whether it is governmental or corporate. I noticed that the very people assigned to enforce bureaucratic rules-including the clerks at the Embassy gate, have a sense of humour about the scheduling and other small details. This does tend to set the visitors at ease.
She took her copy of the reminder to call, tomorrow, and we walked down the steps, past the vendors, touts and beggars, to the seaside park that was renovated and upgraded, during the last Presidential administration. That president, I recall, was all about the Philippines-and its people, being respected by the rest of the world. The current state of Manila Bay was one of his pet projects, and was done well.
View of Manila Bayside Park (Dolomite Beach) , from the overpass to U.S. EmbassySection of former sea wall, Dolomite Beach, Manila Bay
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A human, for scale, at sea wall section, Dolomite Beach
After returning from the seaside, we switched gears, and with a second friend, we headed towards the Scottsdale of the Philippines, aka Makati. Here, we met a third friend, for an afternoon and evening of pretend shopping and art appreciation.
It’s not just WalMart that is full on Christmas.
We met K, at Cash and Carry Mall (shown above), then went to Greenbelt, also known as Makati Glorietta Mall. Here, our first stop was Ayala Museum, where an exhibit of abstract art by young people from around the Philippines is on view.
Here is an example:
Vision from the eyes of the future.Avant garde art abounds at Glorietta.There are five Green Belts in Makati Glorietta. This is a scene from # 5.
We were all drawn to a loud presentation, which turned out to be an interpretive dance roll-up to the opening of a photography exhibition, also by young Manilenos, curated by Maria Ylona.
Interpretive Dancers leading up to a photography exhibit’s opening
This opening was a class act, with a dignified set of coccktails, softails and delectable hors my d’oeuvres. This was own first time eating caviar-not bad at all. Here is an example of the photographs which won awards from Ms. Ylona.
Team work, Filipino-styleCats earn their keep, at Makati’s malls. One does not see rats, anywhere.Is there any doubt, as to who’s boss?Green Belt #4’s “moat”Three fashionistas
As it was, after this last photograph, we looked upon the crowd that was queued up to head to the suburbs, and took it upon ourselves to sit in the garden’s twilight. An hour of nibbling on Starbucks flatbreads and enjoying the cooling air was a far more reasonable way to wait out the masses than standing on a curb and breathing fumes, though there was some of that, later.
There is ever something interesting, when one’s hosts are three amigas.
October 24, 2023, Manila- Today was a day of rest for my hosts. It began with another member of the community questioning my reasons for being here-indicating that I was limiting myself to an area where not all that much was going on. My response was to just sit tight and let the message process. After a while, I got further information from one of my hosts, that there was the initial expectation that I would be blazing about the country, with some days in one spot and some in another.
Now I could reply: . This is not my last visit to the Philippines. In fact, when honouring the end of World War II, (God willing, and provided WW III hasn’t started in the meantime), two years hence, it will make the most sense for me to go from Europe to east Asia, rather than returning to the U.S. and leaving again after only a month at Home Base. That will give more time for the provincial activities the community member wants to see.
My Korean friends were fond of saying “Rome wasn’t built in a day”, though their context was more along the lines of excusing an extended lack of effort. In my case, I would excuse being overextended, but there is no sense in making excuses. 2025 will be what it is, and I am just glad to be here to listen to my hosts and offer assistance where I can, in terms of encouraging healing where it is needed, and connecting friends who live in the same part of the country, but who did not know one another, until a day or two ago. Networking has always been important in my life, and is as much a reason why I have traveled almost incessantly, since I was seven years old. (Going to different areas of Saugus was as big a deal then, as going to different parts of North America, and beyond, is now). It is all about connections.
I am happy to report that the community member has come to understand my mindset and has adjusted expectations. I hope and trust that others will do the same, as this decade plays out-and if immediate family needs arise,those will always take precedence.
October 23, 2023, Manila- My hat came off, as soon as I came upon the jarring scene: A sculpted depiction of the execution of a nation’s hero.
As my hosts looked over at the edge of the park named in honour of the Philippines’ national hero, they somehow did not recognize the boundary with Intramuros and hailed a taxi to take us around to the west side of the park. I have made it my business not be the leader of the band, but in matters of scant consequence, to follow along.
Few matters are as consequential, however, as the attempt to silence those who love their country, their land, their fellow citizens. Jose A. Rizal, a polymath and patriot, gave his very life for the independence of the Philippine nation. He was accused-of treason to Spain, tried, found guilty, and executed, under duress, by a firing squad-of his countrymen, on December 30, 1896. Two years later, Spain lost possession of the Philippines to the United States. The American leadership, under Admiral George Dewey, assented to the proper burial of Dr. Rizal and his family was able to obtain closure.
The Philippine nation got its closure, fifty years later, when July 4, 1946 saw the birth of a unified and free archipelago. All this is commemorated, and the outcome celebrated, at Rizal Park. The sacrifice of Dr. Rizal, and countless members of his associates-both and after his killing, have brought about the ongoing emergence of a fine nation, which is the best anyone can say about any collective society of human beings.
Here are scenes of Rizal Park.
West entrance to Rizal Park, once known as Luneta. Memorial to Dr. Jose A. RizalFacts in the matter of Dr. Rizal’s executionDepiction of the execution of Dr. RizalThe Chinese and Japanese residents of Manila each have built a garden, in their traditional styles. Here is the gateway to the Chinese Garden.Central platform of Chinese GardenSerenity in the Chinese Garden
The light was getting too low, by the time we came to the Japanese Garden. It made a visit impractical. That was not so, with regard to the Dancing Waters, the celebratory element of Rizal Park. For them, darkness only made things better.
Dancing Waters, sans luminee.The show begins!Joy rises, along with expectations.All the players have taken the field!
This bustling day was a fine introduction to Manila proper and to the hearts of my three hosts. Most of all, it gave me an opportunity to honour Dr. Rizal. Long may his spirit guide the Filipino people forward!
October 21, 2023, Paranaque- The driver seemed near the end of his rope: “How can you be staying someplace, and not know the address?” The equally flustered passenger was asking self the same question, but all the e-mails from the hotel gave a phone number and e-mail address, but no physical location. The gate guard at the airport knew the answer-“Sir, the rider cannot know the street address, because there is only a general location. Kindly drive around the edge of the terminal and turn left. You will both see a familiar face: Colonel Sanders. There is where the hotel is.” Driver followed the directions, the passenger sighed to self, paid the driver and went off to enjoy an evening of professional karaoke singers, playing all the hits they knew. It was a fine Saturday night, after all.
I spent the better part of the day with three or four Filipino Baha’is, at the National Center/South Luzon Regional Office. We also scouted my residence for the coming week, which is close to the office and will allow me to establish the bonds that are as much my goal for this journey, as the visit, three days ago, with my sponsored youth was. I will thus have put a toe in the water, figuratively speaking. By the end of my time here, the Philippines will seem as much like home as Arizona, California, New Mexico, Colorado,Carson City, Texas, Pennsylvania, New England, Atlantic Canada, the Pacific Northwest, Brittany and South Korea. Home is definitely expanding.
I was not always certain that I would take to the tropics, the same way that my temperate mindset has reveled in lands with four seasons. It is, however, more a sense of the heart being touched by the gentleness, overall, of people here-much as the First Nations peoples and the farm folk around North America, and the Celts of Brittany, have won that heart. Truth be known, I barely feel the intense heat. Sunscreen and a good hat take care of the physical aspect. I am, otherwise, mainly attending to conversations, some of them fairly deep, with both the Baha’i friends and people I have met here and in Bicol.
What this means for the years immediately ahead remains to be seen. Family will always be my primary responsibility, after service to Baha’u’llah. Being told, though, that I am always welcome here, means a lot.
Philippine Baha’i National Center-Main LibraryEntrance to Baha’i National Center of the Philippines, Santa Ana District, near Manila
October 20, 2023, Paranaque- The lady busily puttered about the courtyard and small garden, seemingly unaware of anything other than what was in front of her. To me, watching from a third story window, with appreciation of her diligent work in the afternoon heat, it was reassuring. The people of this largely commercial neighbourhood still had residences scattered among the businesses, and they took care of these, with dignity and a goodly amount of pride. A humble, dignified, graceful woman was, at that point in time, the most beautiful person on Earth.
Four small boys scampered about, in and out of the parking lot, around the four restaurants, three car rental agencies, a bar and the hotel where I am staying. They split themselves up, each one stationed in front of a restaurant, steering clear of the hotel-and of the bar, where the bouncer would have gladly given them a forceful heave-ho. Some realities are understood, intuitively, even by the desperate- especially by the desperate. I sat in Pablo’s, enjoying the pipes of a group of four men who were engaged in karaoke. I was invited to join in, on the English-language songs, but spared them my croaking voice. Listening to their many tunes, in English and in Tagalog, was a splendid way to while away the evening-for me, and for the little one outside, whose nose was pressed to the window. The food was also good.
I do not give money to beggars, no matter how old or young. A few years ago, as you may recall, I tried supporting a man who I thought was an honest entrepreneur, only to have him rebuff my suggestions and up his monetary demands. Lesson learned, and cord cut. The kids are engaging, and appealing-but I know where the money ends up, and it’s not in their pockets. The minder, if he or she could even be called that, waits at a gathering point, collection bag in hand.
Here in the Manila Airport Hotel, there is a constant buzz of guests, hotel staff, cafe workers, travel agents, masseuses and car rental agents. Lines form at the hotel desk and at the cafe counter-and are diligently honoured. No one in the Philippines seems to vaunt self over those in front of the line. I have been in places where that is not the case, but in this country, there is a fair amount of decorum-even on the busy streets, few are they who throw their weight around in traffic-and they are put in their places very quickly, either by the police or by other drivers.
I like this tight little neighbourhood, and will miss it, at least a bit, when I transfer to Santa Ana, nearer to Manila Proper, next week.
October 19, 2023, Paranaque, National Capital Region, PI- Richard, a tuk-tuk driver, taught me my first word of Tagalog: Salamat, which means “Thank you”. There is no more essential word or phrase to learn, in any language. Filipinos are fastidious in saying “Thank you so much”, and I have followed suit in that regard. Now, Salamat po, the same thing in Tagalog, may be offered, and I will learn other words and phrases, as the days go by.
Several of us who passed through security, at Naga Regional Airport, this morning, were screened twice-once upon entry to the terminal and again upstairs. This appears to be the Marcos Administration’s response to the terror attacks in Israel, and I am grateful to the government for not taking any chances. Furthermore, mobile food vendors have been moved out of the terminal and flights are cleared for boarding, as soon as all passengers are on board-regardless of whether the schedule calls for waiting until a prescribed time.
As a result, we got back to Aquino International Airport 27 minutes early. I was given special permission to take a shuttle bus from Terminal 4 to Terminal 1, as Manila Airport Hotel is “within the periphery” of the latter terminal. It pays to be known as respectful and cooperative, when the authorities are reasonable in their procedures. Once at terminal 1, I made the five-minute walk down the outside ramp, across the parking lots and over to the hotel. Check-in was immediate, and so was my shower.
Comparing this journey to my last solo trip across an ocean-to Europe, in 2014, I can say that the foibles and floops have both gone down, in frequency and severity. I have not done anything that left a bad impression, nor have acted like a bull in a china shop-this time. Most of this can be ascribed to the shedding of much grief that remained after Penny’s passing. It is also from having learned from mistakes made in Europe and taking care to be more measured and careful in my day-to-day interactions. Then again, nine years of life have had a maturing effect, in and of themselves. Even the brief, family-centered visit to South Korea, in 2019, had moments when I felt rushed, and had to slow myself down. I am just calmer now, in any event.
This trip is a dry run, to see if I am able to handle the thinking on one’s feet that come with travel in an emerging nation. So far, so good.
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 BicolThe 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.
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.
A Sagittarian Seeker 