September 25, 2024, Manila- Stepping off the light rail car, at Fifth Avenue station, I spotted an ornate Chinese temple and adjoining pagoda. I was in Caloocan, the Philippines’ fourth-largest city, and the only one that is split by a neighbouring community. In this case, Quezon City, the largest city in the country and its former planned capital, has split Caloocan into the greater northern segment and a slender southern area, by way of the former’s aggressive annexation of land in the 1930s and again in the 1950s.
It is in southern Caloocan that the Chinese structures are found. The Taoist Temple, named Thai To, and its pagoda, lie to the south of the Fifth Avenue Light Rail Station. The outer gate of the complex was open, but the doors to the structures were not, so I confined my curiosity to their exteriors. I know from having lived in South Korea and visiting Taiwan that temple visitation involves serious protocol.
Thai To Taoist Temple and Pagoda, Caloogan South (above and below)
Crossing back to the main street, I noticed another old Mandarin-style building, on the north side. So, crossing over, I found Ung Siu Si, at the north end of a small area of shops and warehouses.
Ung Siu Si Temple, Caloocan South
Two older Chinese men, who had been lounging outside, got up and moved away, as they saw me approaching. A nearby security guard chuckled at their wariness, but no one had a problem with my photographing the building.
This was the extent of Caloocan South’s Chinatown remnant, save for a few small cafes with signs in Mandarin. I spent the rest of my solo afternoon at Co-Lab, a pleasant coffee shop, frequented by university students. It is ever a feature of my sojourns to seek out such haunts, and while away an hour or so by journaling. Co-Lab, also called The Coffee Project, is not far from Ola!, or from the Baha’i Center, so I will visit there again, when K and the sister-friends are busy with projects, on a given day.
Tomorrow, though, I will wrap this second stay in Manila and head southwest, to Palawan, for a three-day visit. It is the home of two of the sister-friends, who have been so important to our day-to-day activities.
September 24, 2024- A groan came from the back of the taxi, and I turned to see my sister-friend trying to stomp a cockroach, which scurried out of harm’s way-toward my beloved, who also tried to stomp and missed. Being the man in the party of three, Filipino culture dictated that I sit in the front passenger seat, so despite my annoyance at the insect being near my friends, I could do nothing-but wait and see if it came towards my space. Somehow, it stayed hidden under my seat-and we all refocused.
We had been on an outing, first to the Philippine-American Cemetery, where 17,000 men and women, who died fighting the Japanese invaders, between 1941-45, are laid to rest. Those Missing in Action are named also named on a Wall of Honour. This wall is in three segments, each of which has several columns. Kathy wondered if any of my family members died in service, during World War II. None did, but my late father-in-law was a prisoner of war, in Berga, Germany, for five long months, in 1945. As a Jew, he was given “special” torment. Two of my maternal uncles were in the Navy, during the Battle of Midway. One of them served with valor, when his ship was shot out from under him and crew mates. He received a Silver Star for his actions. One of my paternal aunts served in the Women’s Naval Corps, the only member of her family who was able to serve at the time. I did find a distant relative, a Robert Boivin, USN, who was killed in action in the Philippines. There may be others, as we did not go to the Army, Marines or Coast Guard sections, which we will visit another day.
We viewed a film about the sequence of events There were so many heroic figures, among the Filipino and American forces, including many of both who acted as guerillas, constantly harassing the occupants. Filipino civilians also acted in wily fashion, many operating right under the noses of the overconfident Rising Sun. All those who died, made the soil of the Philippine nation fertile, in the best of ways. My head is bowed in tribute.
Here are some scenes from our visit to this hallowed spot.
The Home Front of America sprang to action.People of colour were in the forefront of the battle for the Philippines, and elsewhere.Kathy and Norlie are among the grateful.So am I.Norlie’s grandfather was one of the above.I still stand ready.This cenotaph honours the fallen, collectively.Robert Boivin, Signal Corps, USN, was a distant cousin.Three of Penny’s distant maternal cousins, Anthony, Ervin and Kyee Faust, were also in the forefront of the battle-at Leyte Gulf (1944).
Here is another view of the Cenotaph. It is actually a chapel, with a statue of St. Mary inside.
Afterwards, we went to one of the legacies of Philippine freedom: The new financial center of Manila: Bonifacio Global Center. There, we met another friend and I became the lovely ladies’ paparazzo.
Bonifacio Global CenterNorlie, Kathy and Ylona at “BGC”.
September 23, 2024, Manila- There was not much on my plate today, except to recount to a couple of friends, as to my visit in Baguio. I also “planted” the second rose quartz heart in a Philippine locale: The front garden plot of the Regional Baha’i Center, in Manila’s Santa Ana neighbourhood. The first was “planted” on Saturday, in the front garden of Rosevilla Transient Guest House. Others will be interred on Palawan and in places I will visit, in the remaining four weeks of my present sojourn here.
I have met several men who have come from afar, and married Filipina women. Some have known their mates for several years. Others came on a wing and a prayer, and found the one they sought. I wish them all many years of happiness.
I did not come here, last year, with the intent of finding a special person. I had twenty-nine years of love from Penny, and her spirit still guides me-and so I was guided to a shimmering, radiant soul, when I least expected. As to the outcome, it’s been a lovely year of long-distance communication and an equally lovely set of in-person meet-ups, so far. We will see where this goes, but I am in a joyful state right now.
One thing is clear, though: I do not view Kathy, or any woman for that matter, as an idea, a trinket, a plaything or a pastime. Penny was for real; so is K. I am a head or so taller than she, but we are eyeball to eyeball, and her thoughts, dreams and life plan are as important to me as anything in my life.
There are those who will read this and tell me-“I remember when……” Of course you do, and so do I, sometimes to my chagrin. Those friendships, or reasonable facsimiles thereof, each imparted a lesson for me-and probably for the women involved as well. I have seen those of them who have remained my friends go on and meet good men, or continue along an intentional life of single person hood.
I have long since reached the point of no compromise with the lower nature. As my bond with K evolves, and in whatever direction it goes, I will follow the path of honour. My marriage to Penny taught me the way and all else that follows is in that vein.
September 22, 2024, Manila- The wooden Ibaloi warrior sat in my crafts souvenir bag, keeping watch over the bus, and me-like Little Bear, in “The Indian in the Cupboard”. I would not have been surprised, had he come to life and begun murmuring fiercely in the Ibaloi dialect of the time. The history of the indigenous people of the vast Malay archipelago: East Malaysia, Brunei Darussalam, Indonesia, Timor L’Este and the Philippines mirrors that of the First Nations of the Americas. Indeed, they were all subjugated by the same European conquerors-and their successor cultures.
Mabel Cook Cole provides us with this account of the origin of the Igorot nations
In the beginning there were no people on the earth.
Lumawig, the Great Spirit, came down from the sky and cut many reeds. He divided these into pairs which he placed in different parts of the world, and then he said to them, “You must speak.”
Immediately the reeds became people, and in each place was a man and a woman who could talk, but the language of each couple differed from that of the others.
Then Lumawig commanded each man and woman to marry, which they did. By and by there were many children, all speaking the same language as their parents. These, in turn, married and had many children. In this way there came to be many people on the earth.
Now Lumawig saw that there were several things which the people on the earth needed to use, so he set to work to supply them. He created salt, and told the inhabitants of one place to boil it down and sell it to their neighbors. But these people could not understand the directions of the Great Spirit, and the next time he visited them, they had not touched the salt.
Then he took it away from them and gave it to the people of a place called Mayinit. These did as he directed, and because of this he told them that they should always be owners of the salt, and that the other peoples must buy of them.
Then Lumawig went to the people of Bontoc and told them to get clay and make pots. They got the clay, but they did not understand the molding, and the jars were not well shaped. Because of their failure, Lumawig told them that they would always have to buy their jars, and he removed the pottery to Samoki. When he told the people there what to do, they did just as he said, and their jars were well shaped and beautiful. Then the Great Spirit saw that they were fit owners of the pottery, and he told them that they should always make many jars to sell.
In this way Lumawig taught the people and brought to them all the things which they now have.”-Source: Mabel Cook Cole, Philippine Folk Tales (Chicago: A. C. McClurg and Company, 1916), pp. 99-101.
The First Nations of the Malay Archipelago, including the Philippines, have much the same richness in their cultures and in their societies, as have the First Nations of the Americas-and in fact, all the First Nations, across the globe. It was all too easy for Europeans and their settler descendants to have lost sight of this, because no sooner had a wave of Eurasian nomads come across from the steppes of the landmass’s center and settled down (the Celts, the Aryans, the Teutonic tribes, the Huns, Avars and Turks), than another wave of nomads, the Mongols being the last, came thundering across the plains, to conquer and disrupt society. Each successive wave of settlers disdained those they found in place. So did the ethos of conquest become ingrained in the European mindset-and in many ways, the wisdom of the indigenous people was discounted and overlooked.
I am grateful to have had a small amount of time with the Idaloi. I will be back, possibly as early as next month.
I came back to the capital, this afternoon. The return trip was made the way the average Filipino makes it-via a local bus, that stopped in four different depots and two rest areas. The bus picked up roadside passengers in the countryside between Baguio and Sison, which was the first rest area. We continued through small cities, like Urdaneta and Moncada, stopped at a second rest area, in Angeles, and still got to Pasay Victory Line Terminal in five hours. Now, there are four days to regroup and replenish, before going to Palawan, the “frontier” of the Philippines, in the southwest.
Here, as a bonus, is a collection of Igorot legends.
September 21, 2024, Baguio- The sweet young woman was ecstatic that I had come to view and purchase several of her creations. My goal is to support indigenous artisans, around the Philippines, as I have over the years with Dineh and Hopi people. So, the wood carvings and knits of the Ibaloi lady were right in keeping with that goal. A couple of them will be for K, and one or two will go with me to Arizona.
Ili-Likha Artists’ Watering-Hole is primarily a gathering place for artists and visitors, with several restaurants and cafes. Ili-Likha is a hybrid term: Ili means “village”, in Kankanaey, one of the Igorot languages, and Likha means “create”, in Tagalog. The craft shop I visited, on the first floor of this tree-house like structure, had everything I wanted from this first visit to Baguio. Heaven on Earth, with its vurgers and other vegetarian treats, is right next door. Having had a sumptuous pizza wrap, at Pizza Volante, about 30 minutes prior, I contented myself with a refreshing cold glass of tskolate. (You guessed it, it’s chocolate!)
This evening, enjoying a lovely dinner with my hosts, at Rosevilla Transient House, I left the door open for a return visit to Baguio, later in my hopefully-extended stay in the Philippines, which would let me be in the country until October 26. If so, then my first beeline would be to Tam-awan, which is actually not that far from the guest house. Tam-awan is a living history site, much like many we have in North America (Old Sturbridge, Colonial Williamsburg, L’Anse aux Meadows, Lincoln’s New Salem, etc.) It is certainly an effort well-made, as the Igorot nations deserve to be recognized for the strength and beauty of their culture. They largely resisted the Spanish, and were in fact never completely subjugated-even by the Japanese, during the occupation of 1941-45.
September 20, 2024, Baguio- The little boy was curious about what was in my soup bowl, so he started to approach the small table where I sat, in James Wright Cafe, at Baguio’s SM CIty . His mother was having none of it, and sternly called him back to their table, explaining the etiquette of dining in public.
SM is a chain of supermarkets and malls, across the Philippines and in China. It started in 1948, when Henry Sy opened a Shoe Mart, in Manila’s Quiapo District. His business plan gradually allowed for expansion into the supermarket concept, then into full service shopping malls, with a great number of satellite shops. Baguio’s SM has two stories and a plethora of shopping options. I contented myself with food that I could prepare back at my suite, and a few treats to share with my hosts, besides the lunch at James Wright Cafe.
I went into town by jeepney, after enjoying breakfast at Badihoy’s Aqua Garden Cafe. Here is a remarkable view of the Cordillera rain forest, from Aqua Garden’s terrace.
Kordilerya Rainforest, Badihoy, Baguio
Once the langganisa breakfast, with Chocolate Bomb, was finished, it was on to the parks and other sights of Baguio’s City Center. The first stop was a monument to Dr. Jose Rizal, the national hero of the Philippines.
“The Golden Blood”, celebrating modern day heroes-soldiers and sailors defending the Philippines, and first responders.Monument to Dr. Rizal
Next was Burnham Park, named for its designing architect, Daniel Burnham, of Chicago. He wanted a park that American forces stationed at Baguio could enjoy and one that would appeal to Filipinos, as well. Thus, there is a small lake, with paddle boats and pontoon boats for rental, as well as numerous small gardens, with many stone sitting benches, and a few tables.
Bust of Daniel Burnham, at Burnham Park, BaguioSome of Pine City’s pines, Burnham ParkFilipinos are quite focused on community health.A long view of Burnham ParkCelosias make you take notice!A young fashionista was posing for several “walking photos”, at this bed of daisies. I gladly waited my turn. The girl reminded me of one of our friends in Manila, who also likes to pose in style.Have paddle boat, will cruise the lake!Mural honouring small holder farmers, Burnham Park (above and below)When I was a child, the Swan Boat at Boston Common was a delight. Glad to see that some are still around-pontoons at Burnham Lake.Wherever one goes, cats rule.Honouring Igorot warriors, defending their homeland- Igorot Garden Park, Baguio (above and below)Baguio Cathedral. There was a Mass being said, so I did not go inside.
The way back was interesting, in and of itself. The rain was heavy, but that did not deter anyone, including me, who needed to get somewhere. I found a jeepney, which took me further than I needed to go. With help from a Guisad Barangay worker named Kim, I got back just fine, though.
Tomorrow’s outing to an indigenous craft shop will be better planned out. I will take note of landmarks, so as to not overshoot this little sitio of Badihoy.
September 19, 2024, Baguio- The skies are open, full tilt and the Cordillera (Kordilyera) of central Luzon is taking the brunt of the downpour-but that is part of what I expected, before coming here. Baguio is often described as the “coldest place in the Philippines”, with temperatures as low as 48.2 F, or 9 C., in January and February. It is 67 F here, this evening.
The road here, once leaving the National Highway, resembles the back road from Wickenburg to Prescott, or either of the paved roads that go to Jerome. It is winding, there are some spots that are one lane,due to construction and the city is sprawling- “Welcome to Baguio ” signs appear in Puga, some 25 kilometers south of town.
Baguio is also in the homeland of the Igorot people, who are actually nine distinct indigenous nations that have been aggregated into “Igorot” or “Ifugao”- since the Spanish conquest of the northern Malay archiplelago, in the sixteenth century. The people themselves call their conglomeration Ipugaw. Each of the terms simply means “mountain people”. The Ibaloi and Karao Nations are the most common Ipugaw, around Baguio. The other seven nations are found across northern Luzon, in all the interior provinces. I will have more to say about the Ibaloi and Karao people, in Saturday’s post.
I arrived here around 2:30 p.m., about the time that my friend in Makati had predicted, though some optimistic staff at Pasay Victory Line’s terminal in the City of Pasay, near Manila, had said 1:30. Kathy has had boots on the ground in Baguio, so her assessment carried more weight. I got a couple of empanadas at the Bus Station’s Food Court-and that was a snunch-a late snack-lunch. My host, Rose, came and got me, then we met her son at his school, and the three of us took a taxi in the rain, to Rosevilla Transient Guest House, in the heights above the city center. I will do a solo trip downtown, tomorrow. It will be fascinating-involving both my intuition and consulting locals along the way, as needed.
Here are some scenes of the barangay to the south of this area, which is called Guisad. “Our” barangay is called Trancoville.
Views of Guisad neighbourhood, Baguio (above and below)The area is also called Badihoy- which seems to be the name of a sitio, or subunit, of the barangay.
There is enough in Baguio and vicinity to occupy a traveler for four or five days. I have two full days, so I will pick and choose carefully.
September 18, 2024, Manila- Remembering the old saw that goes: “You can’t tell if someone is disabled, just by looking at him”, I nonetheless walked past the muscular young man who was sitting on the sidewalk, holding out a paper cup. I don’t, as a matter of course, reward begging. There are cases where I will purchase snacks, especially packaged ones, from street vendors. That constitutes reward for some kind of work. Sorry, not sorry, but begging is not work.
I decided to give my friends at the Baha’i Center some space today, and opted to walk about 5 kilometers total, from Ola! Hostel to the light rail station at Vito Cruz, and from Gil Puyat station to Libertad, which took me past the Metro Manila World Trade Center. From Libertad, I took the light rail back to Vito Cruz, then walked to Ola!
World Trade Center, north of Ninoy Aquino International Airport (above and below)
Most people were just going about their business, and did not pay me any mind. A little girl asked if I needed any help, when I stopped to put my camera back in its sleeve. It was kind of her, but I was making myself feel useful and capable, so I continued on-and she went back to wherever she had been people watching.
After doing my laundry, in advance of tomorrow’s bus ride to Baguio, I sent a message to Kathy, touching base about the arrangements she had made for said ride. The answer came back that the information would be at the Baha’i Center, so I went there after all, in the evening. She brought the paperwork, after a fashion, and I saw the work that had kept her busy, these past few days: A thick binder of documents. This woman is nothing, if not dedicated and the work was largely done. I sat with her and several others, a conversation dovetailing between English and Tagalog ( the latter of which I could only understand a smidgen). Were it not for tomorrow’s activities, which start with an early morning Zoom call, I could have sat and talked for hours. It was, at least an hour well-spent, talking about the Baha’is of the United States, and our schools/institutes.
Bend a little, and get a lot in return. Show independence, and get support.
September 17, 2024, Manila- The little girl clutched her assigned supply of envelopes and note cards with one hand and held onto my arm with the other. She desperately wanted to get some pocket change, which I could have spared-but for the fact that a boy appeared, also carrying envelopes and note cards-and it is pretty much guaranteed that ten more “vendors”, along with a few pickpockets, would have surfaced, in short order. I walked along, with a platonic friend who is like a sister to me, and the little angel still clinging to my arm. No one got anything from me, and after I said “Palaam” (goodbye), at the corner, the pair hung back, looking surprised, but resigned.
Many of us, in the course of our lives, are like the Envelope Girl and her partner in grift. We hope for something from another person-whether it is commerce, approval, friendship or even some level of romance. Sometimes-oftentimes, we can get what we want. On other occasions, the answer is “No”, or “Maybe, just not right now”.
I have been both seeker and sought, plenty of times. Growing up, I was a well-liked, but never loved, adolescent-a permanent resident of what is nowadays called “The Friend Zone”.
There is no Friend “Zone”. There are only friends, those towards whom one feels fondly, with whom one is glad to share good times, thoughts and experiences. There are levels of friendship, from “acquaintance” (whatever that is) to a marital bond-and many levels in between. I can’t, however, recall any person in my life who has been consigned to a limited, stifling place in my world. There have been false friends, whose design was either transactional (like the street urchins above) or vengeful(their whole shtick being to teach me a lesson). Those have been let go, blocked/deleted. There have been those who have been physically attracted to me, but the converse has not been true-and we have managed to build solid, platonic/fraternal bonds. The same is true of many to whom I have been drawn-and the converse has also been true.
At the top of the scale, there are two: Penny, my departed wife, and a person to whom I have made several references, of late. Penny was, when we first met, immediately in full-on attraction mode, (as was I, to her). That settled into a period of retraction, during which she had space to deal with residual feelings towards former beaux, a dalliance with a more dashing suitor and sorting out all manner of conflict between making a commitment and having “freedom”. My feelings never went away, but I stayed in the background, as long as she needed me to. After 18 months, we were married, had a solid, if sometimes stormy, wedlock and I was by her side through it all-including thirteen years of physical and cognitive decline, as I have described in earlier posts.
I met K last year, and had the same immediate attraction. Time will tell, if the friendship will approach the level that Penny and I reached. There are many variables, and all I can say is that my feelings aren’t going away, even as my person gives her the space that I gave Penny. A beloved soul deserves no less. Our lives will continue, will remain full and our goals-both mutual and separate-will be achieved. No two people, no matter how drawn to one another, can possibly meld into a unit where one is indistinguishable from the other. “Between them is a barrier that they overpass not.”-Baha’u’llah.
It has been a wonderful ride, to this point. I’m here, if she needs me.
September 16, 2024- “Every exit is an entrance to someplace else”-Sign in the Rooftop Restaurant, at Ola! Hostel. I am nearing the end of the first Manila phase of my visit here. It’s just as well. My friend needs to get on with her day job, and I have promises to fulfill, in the outlying areas. After hopefully helping one of the other Manila friends with filing a claim, tomorrow, I will try to get to Corregidor on Wednesday and head for Baguio, in central Luzon, from Thursday to Sunday. The first few days of next week are uncertain, especially given my dearest friend’s work schedule, but I will head to Palawan, for five days, on Sept. 26. Visits to Mindoro and the Bicol region may follow, as October gets underway.
Every trial, every effort one makes, comes with a valuable lesson. Those lessons are what allow for transcendence. One such lesson was with respect to the One SIM card I tried using. It cannot receive text messages from the United States, so it ended up being useless and I have gone back to my regular number. The other thing about trials is that they call me out on whether I mean what I say. I do, but there is always a need to prove that to those who are important to me, but don’t know me all that well.
A long day has come to a close. My intuition, with regard to K, is ever spot on and I will continue to be her rock. The woman has so much to offer this world. That’s all I can say.
A Sagittarian Seeker 