The Road to Diamond, Day 119: Passages

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March 27, 2025- In a short letter, with two photos attached, I learned that the young adolescent girl from Mexico,whom I had been sponsoring for three years, has left the sponsoring agency’s wing. There is nothing further I can do for the child, save pray, as all contact with her is through the agency.

In her stead, I will sponsor and support a much younger child from a Caribbean nation. The differences between the two girls could not be more stark. The first was content to stay at home and tend her younger siblings, or so she said. The second is a self-starter, inquisitive and studious, with eyes full of sass. I look forward to seeing just how far she will go in life.

In my own space, I had a spot on my face treated with cold nitrogen, this afternoon. It will need to be evaluated in three months’ time. Another spot will be surgically removed, next Wednesday. I have borne a scar or two, previously, so I am not worried. It’s better to be rid of the spot, before it becomes cancerous.

The country is going through a passage or two. Indeed, the planet is experiencing changes not seen in over 80 years. Some events are actually more reminiscent of the so-called Dark Ages, when kings, lords and other nobles ran roughshod over the masses. Back then, however, those multitudes were uneducated. Nowadays, any chicanery or deception is occurring because the people are, by turns, tired, distracted or complacent. There has rarely been a time when so many are willing to accept whatever is told them. This, though, will not continue in perpetuity. Abraham Lincoln’s admonition, about not fooling all the people all the time, will be brought to bear-as it was after the Watergate scandal and hopefully in just as civilized a manner. We do not need either another Civil War or a mass uprising, as happened in 1968, after the death of Martin Luther King, Jr. or in 2020, after the death of George Floyd. At some point, the seemingly defanged Congress will need to assert itself and prevent the “correction of overspending” from becoming an overreaction all its own. It will need the support of the judiciary, and of several other institutions.

The point should never be to excuse excess in one direction, but to ensure it is not replaced by excess in the opposite way.

Extended Stay

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October 2, 2024, Manila– Kathy was still off doing the practical work of the Divine, so I decided to get my own small contribution to the greater effort done. It took three hours, mostly of waiting, but I extended my visa by two weeks-and will thus be able to consult with her, and the rest of the team, as to how that time can best be put to use. As gruff as the clerks are,(probably because they’re paid a pittance), the lady at the last station entered two weeks beyond what I needed, as the expiration date. I still need to get back to Arizona by Oct. 28, but it’s nice to have that buffer period, just in case.

During the final hour of waiting, between the payment part and the confirmation part, I went over Jones Bridge to Binondo, the oldest of Manila’s Chinatowns. There are a couple of arches that set the mood.

Pasig River, with old financial district across from Intramuros.
Gateway to Quiapo Chinese Commercial Area, Binondo.
Filipino-Chinese Friendship Arch, Binondo
Four hundred years of ties between the Philippines and Mexico are also a point of pride, along the Pasig.
Jones Bridge, close-up
Mural, west of Jones Bridge

After taking this photo, I was approached by a pedicab driver, who said he could take me to a dozen fascinating sites. I asked him to take me to the National Museum of Fine Arts, only. This turned out to be more than enough for the poor soul, and I paid him a fair wage for his effort. These men represent a dying art, but don’t need to die on the job. Ironically, right after he let me off, a horse-drawn cart came down the street on the opposite side. I felt just as bad for the poor horse, as for the pedicab driver.

Here is the National Museum of Fine Arts.

I managed to take in the second floor and half of the third.
Manuel Roxas, the fifth President of the Philippines. His is the first likeness to greet the visitor to Fine Arts.
“Angel”, by Guillermo E. Tolentino is right behind President Roxas.
Felix Resurreccion Hidalgo was one of the Philippines’ greatest painters of the 19th Century. Here is his “El Gobernador y El Obispo” (1896), based on an imaginary historical encounter.
Hidalgo (right) is featured here with his contemporary, Juan Luna.
“Dr. Jose A. Rizal”, by Felix Gonzales (1962). This piece is one of many depictions of the National Hero of the Philippines, in an honorarium gallery. It is Gonzales’ only work, in the National Museum.
A retablo (altar piece), from the Church of San Nicolas de Tolentino, Dimiao, Bohol.

There are a pair of long murals, which feature the length of Filipino history, but which I’d rather cite after a visit to the National Museum of Anthropology.

This second solo venture was a full day.

Breaking The Ice

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January 2, 2020-

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In the course of introducing Yunhee to three of Prescott’s lakes, on the last day before her husband, my son, returns to civilian life, we came upon the phenomenon of thin ice, covering the less exposed parts of Granite Basin and Watson Lakes.  In the latter location, few of the area’s signature birds were around, having made the wise choice to visit southern Mexico for a few months.  Instead, the eyes were drawn to an ice dam, which served to slow the flow of water into the Watson Woods Riparian Area, also known as “The Swamp”.

It got me to thinking about the emotional and psychological ice dams, which slow and sometimes stop our interactions.  I have learned that these are purely defense mechanisms- chill vibes, acting like one is busy, and sheer emotional absence.  When one is offended by something, trying to figure out life or is just plain overwhelmed, offering an icy reception to those around self is a sometimes rationalized pattern of behaviour. How well it serves the purpose has to be balanced with what happens next,  or down the road.  Consider that an overabundance of ice can move, glacier-like, towards the shores of a nearby community.  Likewise, so can a glacial pattern of behaviour serve to overwhelm one’s social circle and create a different sort of isolation than that which a person is trying to arrange.

I am fortunate in my Tribe, both  birth family and wider circle.  A few go through bouts of isolation, and they let me know when I’m welcome again.  Most, like anyone else, are following their life plans.  I am doing the same, and have spent the past few days ruminating, and getting messages, as to how this year will best play out.  More on that, in the next post, but essentially I see that those closest to me here, who are like younger siblings, do not need to have me hovering close by-and that they seem to prefer my following my own life plan.  To alter that, on their behalf, short of an emergency, would mean they would, in turn, be altering their life plan for my benefit.

There is more than one kind of ice dam.

Day of the Dead

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November 2, 2017, Prescott-

Hispanic families, in Mexico and elsewhere, observe this day as a way to honour their departed ancestors and strengthen the ties between this world and the hereafter.

As I looked out the window, this morning, I swear I could see Penny’s image, and that of her father, looking back at me, in a tree across the way.

Some have gone on, this past year, who had roles, large and small, in my life.

Uncle George Boivin, one of my last surviving father figures, gave me a paving stone from Boston’s old Scollay Square, which was transformed into Government Center, when I was about 12.  He was ever available, when I was in Colorado, to set me straight, in the difficult  2 1/2 years, immediately following Penny’s passing.  His mind was sharp, until the end, and those doll houses live on.

Al Tercero served our American Legion, at the post and district level, for over 30 years.  Now he is in what we call Post Everlasting.  The Honour Guard he helped establish is still the finest in Arizona.

George Marchessault, also a Past Commander and Honour Guard stalwart, stayed true to the Legion code and was ever present at our gatherings, on almost a weekly basis, until his last illness confined him to rest.

Bea Cronin, a grand-aunt’s sister-in-law, was always outside watching the Saugus High football team, from her back yard. There was an open door and welcome to the kids who knew her sons, and to us, her far extended family, when we were in the neighbourhood.

Ivaloo Mac Vicar was always in the hall, when I was passing to classes in seventh grade, admonishing us boys to WALK down the stairs, ONE step at a time.  She made it to the Century Mark, and a bit beyond, as did-

Evelyn Porter Anderson, who gave my mother a shot at success as a hairdresser and cosmetologist, in the uncertain days after World War II.  She never stopped doting on the five of us, until blindness and infirmity kept her confined to her last home.

Bernis Hanlon taught me, in fifth grade, to rely on my own wits and to start building  layers on my thin skin.  It took twenty more years for that lesson to really stick, yet less time for her next life lesson, appreciation of fine drama, to be absorbed, six years later, when she was the  High School Theater Advisor, who didn’t mind my being on the periphery of that club’s efforts.

Firuz Kazemzadeh was a high-level scholar of the Baha’i Faith, and one of our most accomplished mentors, serving in so many capacities, legal and educational.  His was always a bright and friendly face, at national and international gatherings, as well as at “our own” Grand Canyon Baha’i Conference, held annually in Phoenix.

So many others have come and gone- and some day a person or two will write of my time on this Earth.  There is much to do, as yet, so let it not be too soon.