The Road to Diamond, Day 79: Affirmations and A Temple Site

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February 16, 2025, Manila- Two of the adults, of whom I spoke yesterday, have offered me a place of residence, in a city about an hour south of Manila. This gives me a landing place, once I am able to draw down my time in Arizona. That could reasonably be accomplished, in a caring and dignified manner, by the end of May, at the latest. There are organizations about whom I care deeply: Red Cross, Prescott Farmers Market, Slow Food-Prescott-and the Baha’i Community, in which I want to help foster and nurture leadership. There are friends who will never leave my heart, who need to know that they have nothing to do with my moving. I have made it crystal clear who the impetus for the transition is. She is still very much my primary focus, aside from my little family, who themselves would be cause for returning to the U.S., at the drop of a hat. I will have quality time with them and other family members, in early-to-mid May.

All these things come to mind, following my first visit to the site of a future Baha’i House of Worship for the Phiippines. It is in the city of Antipolo, about 17.6 km (10.9 mi) east northeast of Manila. There was a gathering for the election of a delegate to the Baha’i National Convention for the Philippines, which will be held at the end of April. There was the usual fantastic pot luck lunch (adobo, inasal and creamed cauliflower were abundant-as was white rice, of which I took only a small helping.) There was spirited, but always respectful consultation-most of it in Tagalog, so I understood only small snippets, but I could tell the civil and elevated nature of the discourse, by watching body language. K was busy elsewhere, but it was enjoyable to hang out a bit with a couple of her family members, and get to know them better. The vibrant gathering of 45 people was welcoming and supportive of my considering living in their country. Children were free to play at their own developmental games. Dogs, cats and goats wandered about the grounds, interacting with people-mostly for scraps of food, though they are all well-fed by the caretakers.

Here are a few scenes of the Temple Site grounds.

Gathering site for a small business meeting, future Baha’i Temple site, Antipolo, Rizal, Philippines
Fruit tree grove, Baha’i property, Antipolo
Gathering of participants at Baha’i Unit Convention, Antipolo

After the meeting, as we drove back to Manila, it occurred to me that I was becoming more familiar with the roads around the Metro area. I could even help navigate a driver, if asked. Just don’t ask me to drive in the Metro-there are too many motorcyclists, coming every which way.

Lyanna

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September 29, 2024, Puerto Princesa- “I remember you from before”, said the six-year-old, as she came into her grandparents’ front room, “it’s so good to see you here again.” She introduced herself as Lyanna, “though that’s only my nickname”, and showed six fingers, indicating her age. I asked her what grade she was in- “One”. She then explained that she was not “so conversant” in Tagalog, as she had been initially taught English and Spanish-for whatever reason the latter was important to her Filipino parents. She further explained that her father was a Navy officer and her mother, a nurse. When her little brother came out of the back and started crawling over me, Lyanna said “It’s okay; he can’t help it.” Grandmother quickly took the boy away, and Lyanna continued: “We mustn’t pick on the people who have learning problems. Everyone has one problem or another. For example, I have trouble learning Tagalog.”

I probably could have listened to the child expound on the Universe for a lot longer, but I had to get my dirty clothes to the laundry, up the street. She quickly exited, saying “Bye, bye. See you next time!” Precocity is priceless, and those who place limits on it do so to their own eventual detriment.

The other aspect to this is the seeming closeness of young children to the spirit world. Whether their recognition of certain people, whom they had not previously met in the flesh, is based on mere generalization of people with similar countenances or demeanors, or results from an encounter in a spirit dimension, is something we will only be able to ascertain when the time comes to go to the next level. In any event, I keep running into such children, and I know I am far from alone, in that regard.

This day passed without any of the scheduled meetings taking place. I have to say, though, that the conversation with Lyanna and a longer discourse, with her grandfather, were probably far better uses of my time than meeting just for the sake of meeting.

Precocity is priceless.

A Cordillera Sojourn,Day 3: Ili-Likha

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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.

Metro Manila, Day 8: Branching Out

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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.

Expanding Home, Day 11: Observations On A Tight Neighbourhood

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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.

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.