Actual Vacation, Day 3

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November 22, 2023, Grapevine- There are all kinds of journeys to be had, in this life and beyond.

While exercising, back at Home Base, last week, I watched a segment of an “adventures in car repair” show, on the Motor Trend Channel which, as you might imagine, has several such programs. The journey that one crew undertook, never brought them much outside their shop, their supply places or their test drive circuit, but it was certainly a fascinating peregrination.

The vehicle on which they were working had one functioning part: The drive train (actually, only the flywheel). Everything else, from the transmission to the windshield wipers, was messed up, beyond imagining. Somehow, they began work on turning the heap of metal into something resembling a useful piece of equipment. It took them seventeen months-and $48,000 of the owner’s money-but it came off the rack as good as anything out of River Rouge or Smyrna.

Almost as exhausting, to my imagination, was Julie Powell’s cooking of every recipe in Julia Child’s “Mastering the Art of French Cooking”. Not falling victim to a miasma of conceit took a lot of energy, though criticism from Ms. Child certainly must have helped, in that respect.

There are other such journeys of mind and heart. I have gone on a few: Reading every book in the Harry Potter series, followed by reading every existing volume of George R.R. Martin’s “A Song of Ice and Fire”-preceded, long ago, by absorbing each volume of John Jakes’ “The Kent Family Chronicles”. I see where Mr. Jakes passed on, earlier this year. His work was what rekindled a love of the printed page, that had been dampened, over the years, by one thing or another.

Writing is, of course, another path I can take. In my Xanga days, some whimsical stories came out of this imagination. I lost track of them, when Xanga folded and no longer have access to that medium’s successor sites, which own the rights to everything anyone ever wrote on Xanga. Still, there may be some fiction forthcoming on this Word Press, if for no other reason than to keep the travel blogs from getting tiresome to my readership. Then, there are growing different vegetables and fruit, learning to repair different items, increasing fluency in different languages and so forth-all good for brain and body.

There came a sad notice that one of my former students, who has struggled with health issues, since a terrible auto accident, some years back, is entering the final phase of this life. I certainly pray for his comfort, and if possible, recovery, but passing on is, as ‘Abdu’l-Baha once described it, “yet another journey, for which one should carefully prepare.” May the best thing happen, in his case, as in that of anyone who is close to transition.

We soldier on.

Actual Vacation, Day Two

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November 21, 2023, Grapevine- There is a small gym here, at Terrawood. It has about half of the Full Body exercise machines that we have at Planet Fitness, back at Home Base 1. So, I got in some elliptical work, leg stretches and curls, chest presses and shoulder presses-as well as getting the steps in, right after a hearty meal of bulgogi with gochu-jong (hot pepper paste), over rice. Snacks and meals are faithfully followed by exercise here. There is even a nieghbour who works her treadmill on the front porch.

I am definitely happy that there is more emphasis on both eating healthily and exercising regularly, in this suburban Dallas community. Even shopping does not have to be a sedentary affair: Grapevine Mills is right across the street from four of the apartment complexes that line the boulevard.

There is no set agenda this week, so naturally, I used some time to reserve rooms and ferry space, for next May’s Atlantic Canada visit. This is more because the spaces fill up fast, for places like St. Pierre & Miquelon and Twillingate. At any rate, those ships will sail, with me on board. (The main event, a milestone for the Baha’i community of Eskisoni, on Unamaki/Cape Breton, is the post around which all these other plans revolve.)

This ship is floating nicely, also with me on board. “John Adams”, courtesy of the late David McCullough, is here at my side. My little family is forging ahead, with their respective goals, the work week being suitably short, before America’s de facto second National Day. The main thing, for me, is that everyone close to me has their personal agency intact. That is what will generate a feeling of inner peace, and eventually an atmosphere of understanding and good will shall return.

As we prepare for whatever form people choose to express gratitude, I want to express my appreciation for the First Nations people, like the Osage, who are still here-despite all attempts to shove them aside, as is depicted in “Killers of the Flower Moon”. Manipulators and thieves are ever with us, and will ever claw their way to the top, unless we learn to discern-and make it an integral part of who we are, as individuals and as communities.

What’s Missing?

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November 13, 2023- Today is one of two days this week with no outside schedule, per se. So, of course I went down to Century Lounge, to sit and chat with my friend, Marianne, the barista. While we had a few minutes, before the upstairs tenants and streetside regulars came in, M asked me if I was homesick for Prescott, whilst in the Philippines.

I have not given that notion much thought. I do not miss one place, when I am in another-largely because there has been so much that is comforting and wondrous, wherever I happen to be. Certainly, I’d be “homesick” were I in a war zone or in some other captive situation-but, as it occurred to me, in another situation today, there would be scant comfort and wonder, in such a place.

That said, I certainly miss friends here, when elsewhere and am glad to see them, once back in Home Base. Likewise, there are people I miss in many other places of the heart, when here-and thank the Lord for the digital connections we now have, to augment the telephone and the mails. (I thought of someone from whom no one has heard in a while, and thus sent her a message. I will be very much concerned with the response.)

We each can only be in one place at a time-and my loci do not depend on permission, per se, from anyone who interposes self in other people’s lives, my own included. This has caused a rift with someone I’ve known for many years-and is discomfiting to a few others. To equate availability on demand, however, with trustworthiness, is a false equivalency.

I have three key work assignments, this week, followed by a day helping to install smoke detectors, in a town three hours west of here. Then there will be ten days spent with family. All else remains in the realm of prayer.

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.

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 20: The World at Mall of Asia

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October 29, 2023, Manila- The crowds were terraced, the way northern Luzon’s rice fields are. Everyone was focused on the setting sun, and there was a fair quiet-no blaring cell phone music, with the implied message-“Everyone look at meeeeeeee!” Selfies, of course, abounded and I took one or two of my two remaining hosts.

We were at Mall of Asia (aka MOA) so that the ladies could check out business opportunities, at Franchise Asia’s 2023 International Expo-Manila. “Fun. Friendship. Franchising” was the theme, and the world of chain businesses was here in force. Everyone from Subway and Pizza Hut to Macao Imperial Tea and South Korea’s Kim Soon Rye’s Boneless Chicken were present, and swarmed by would-be entrepreneurs. My two friends took a few brochures and are leaning towards one of them. You will know which one, when they make their mark.

Mall of Asia’s Exposition Center

After the exposition walkabout, we headed towards the other main attraction, perched over Manila Bay.

Impending sunset (Above and below)

As the sun is slowly setting on my first solo visit to southeast Asia, I look forward to seeing both my friends’ success and visits with others in the provinces, en route from Europe to Korea and Japan, two years hence. We celebrated this visit with a dinner at Jolibee, the Philippines’ premier addition to the world of comfort food. An occasional chicken sandwich never hurt anyone.

How the day began: Our Sunday devotional

Expanding Home, Day 18: Bookshelves and Bus Routes

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October 27, 2023, Manila- A family of five came by, as we were resting from the previous task. Once it was determined that they needed about forty-minutes’ rest, before heading to a bus station to Rizal Province, northeast of here, a table was set and light refreshments were served. The great-grandparents, grandmother, mother and young daughter were just glad to get in out of the humidity.

I was determined to be more productive today, than yesterday. That wish was definitely fulfilled. I reminded Norlie that the National Spiritual Assembly member who was here until a few days ago had expressed a wish that the bookshelf be restocked, with more up-to-date publications. So, we set about removing the old books, many of them tattered, and thus in need of tender loving care-in the storage room.

Once the shelves were cleaned, it took about an hour to carefully restock them with study materials and more recent expository volumes. Thus was another goal of this visit achieved, and in short order.

Before
After

The afternoon was broken up by the arrival of the family. After they had had a fairly good rest, it was time to escort them safely to a bus station on the other side of Makati. Thus came a short taxi ride, two jittney buses and a fair walk, with a few street crossings here and there. Philippine streets, as many of you know, are not always marked with crosswalks, let alone traffic signals. Stop signs are almost non-existent. Still and all, most drivers here know what they’re doing, as do most pedestrians. Honked horns are plentiful, but collisions are rare- at least from what I’ve seen and heard thus far.

My main tasks, as I understood them, were to carry the family’s food box and to make sure the grandfather was not left behind. His wife came to the back of the line, about 1/4 mile before we reached the bus terminal, and guided him past some dark areas, where slippery tree roots lurked. Evceryone made it to the outside waiting area, safe and sound. A vigilant station agent brought a portable bench and the family was able to sit comfortably, during the remaining fifteen minute wait for their van bus to Rizal Province.

With that, Norlie and I headed back towards the Center. After stopping for a split ear of corn, we crossed to catch a bus. In the full jittney back to Santa Ana district, there was room for me, in the aisle. I knelt, quite comfortably actually, for the fifteen- minute ride to Dian Street, from whence it was quite easy to walk back to our work station, which is also her residence. A couple of tasty muffins and a bottle of water intervened on our behalf, but she was safely escorted home and I was back in my hotel room, before 9 p.m.

This was a fine Friday.

Expanding Home, Day 10: Sojourner’s Progress

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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.

Expanding Home, Day 7: Mastering the Ropes, Quickly

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October 16, 2023, Daet, Camarines Norte- Burger chef has not had many older American tourists stop at his stall, near Daet’s central high school. In fact, I was the first one, in his memory. I was willing to take the chance, as the quality of food offered to children and teens matters greatly-at least as much as that offered to adults, if not more. I took the two chili cheeseburgers to go-with a mineral water, but no fries.

From the time I first walked around Daet’s “uptown”, this morning, I became a curiosity to some-especially to very young children. For the most part, though, and thankfully, my picking up on the rhythm and flow of pedestrians dovetailing with motor traffic was most appreciated. There are no traffic signals in this part of town, and no stop signs anywhere. Instead, cars, trucks, motorcycles and tuk-tuks exercise a delicate dance with one another. Pedestrians have their own dance, along the at times narrow sidewalks, or along the edge of the street, when the sidewalks run out-as is the case near a Catholic cemetery, not far from Camarines Norte Provincial University. Crossing the street is a matter of quick judgement, three to five seconds is all that is needed, and everyone is expected to pay full attention, move quickly but gracefully and the flow goes on.

I am grateful to be in the shape where I can still take part in this feature of community life. It is noteworthy that, despite the huge volume of vehicular traffic, there are few accidents and almost no traffic jams. I have not seen anyone hit, as yet. It is as if the collective will has told itself: “This is the hand that we have dealt ourselves-big families, lots of small vehicles and roads that are mostly designed to serve motorcycles and tuk-tuks (tricycles, with side cars attached). Let’s make this work!”

Part of my choosing to be here, in a few sections of one country, for three weeks, rather than a “blow-across the region” tour of several nations, is to prove to self that I can pick up readily on social cues and follow along with the rhythm and flow of several aspects of life in a nation where some things are just done differently. The best thing anyone can say about me would be “He is one of us. He understands and is on our side.” Filipinos are guarded, when it comes to Americans-and probably when it comes to Europeans, as well. The more visitors show respect for the way the locals have adapted to their environment-both natural and social, the more room we give the people to advance, at their own pace and in their own way.

After a healthful fish and tofu dinner, at Rustic Cafe, I took in the early evening scene around the Provincial Capitol, and stopped for a few minutes’ reflection, overlooking the Daet River.

The Daet flows brown, but limpid, from north to south.

I look forward to a robust walk to the sea, after taking care of a few necessaries, tomorrow. The pictures will be included in the next post.

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

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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.