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Baby’s Close, a Wedding, and a Crisis

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As of yesterday Janet is 34 weeks pregnant, meaning over 8 months. While in theory the pregnancy could go another 6 weeks we have several reasons to believe it will happen in the next 3 or 4 weeks. So we are officially past the “we have lots of time” part of the pregnancy.

We’ve ordered, by Philippines standards, an insane amount of stuff and nearly daily Janet or I think of something else we are gonna need. Shopee and Lazada love us and the delivery guys all knew exactly where we live. In addition our American friends and relatives have been incredibly generous. Rumor has it that Jeff Bezos is building another Amazon warehouse/sweat shop to accommodate the shipments to the Weisbord’s in the Philippines. LBC, the local carrier, has us on speed dial.

We’ve already set up a play area, put together the crib and I have been tasked to figure out how to use modern gadgets like remote baby cameras and sound machines. I love that damn sound machine and might get one for my own night table. Far more soothing and peaceful than the dogs, roosters and cows I normally hear in bed.

So this thing is really happening and people ask how I am taking it in, as if I could stop it if I had a mind to.

I assume the following: I will love Jack like I loved my previous children, Julian and Nora; I will change a few diapers but perhaps with all our help, not as many as I did the previous times; that I will lose a little sleep but be happy to give some of it up; that I won’t have to rush to work and so will be able to have as much baby time as I want and Jack and Janet can tolerate; that I’ll have enough money to sustain it all – well barely; that Janet’s family will fawn all over the baby and there will be a steady stream of visitors; and that I will stick around a long time to be with my little family.

This last statement was confirmed last week by my doctor. Prior to Covid I have done an annual check up since Julian was born in my early 40s. I was consistently healthy with boringly normal test numbers. But then Covid and lockdowns and last year’s cancer came and suddenly I was scared to get my annual. So I put it off throughout the pandemic.

Finally I screwed up the courage and made the appointment with a new doctor at a new hospital, Negros Polymedic; more on that in a moment.

I was super impressed by the new hospital. The doctor ordered blood work of course, my annual PSA, an ECG and a chest Xray. I paid and the tests were all completed in under an hour. Yes, you heard that right. At a Philippines hospital I was done in under an hour!

The next day I met the doctor again to review the results. Everything was normal “for my age.” The doctor used that expression several times. I suppose this translates as, ‘you’re upright and nothing is falling off, so you’re normal.’ But he did say that he wanted me to get a little more exercise and cut down the sugar and caffeine.

And this refers to the CRISIS we are in the middle of right now in the Philippines; the Coke CRISIS! For geopolitically complex reasons there is a huge Coke crisis in the Philippines.

No, damn it, I am not talking about the drug; I am talking about the soft drink! Coke bottling plants are closing down due to lack of the “high quality” sugar they require.

Personally I only have one (OK maybe 2) addictions. No booze problems, cigarette problems, drug problems. And frankly, even in the target rich Philippines, I am happy with one woman.

But caffeine and the sugar that goes with it – that I am addicted to. My view has always been, ‘I’ve been a good boy about everything else, I’m not giving up Coke.’

Well this isn’t completely true. Decades ago I switched from Coke to Diet Coke, to at least eliminate the sugar. But here in the Philippines where Diet Coke is called Coke Light, many stores only have the real deal or that monstrosity, Coke Zero. The small sari sari stores never have Coke Light. So more and more I found myself drinking actual Coke.

But I promised the doctor I’d go back to Coke Light exclusively, but where to get it? Robinsons and Hypermart are out of all Coke products with no solution in sight. So I hit the convenience stores and started hoarding; you’d think I was collecting toilet paper. I got every 1.5 liter Coke Light bottle I could find and Janet helped too. We’ve cornered the market and I can breathe a sigh of relief – for a few more weeks anyway.

BTW, we also discovered that the supermarkets are not completely out of Coke. They have some stashed in the back. So if you’re really desperate you can get some, if you beg or throw a few pesos their way.

In the midst of an imminent baby and the Coke Crisis, Janet’s brother Jonathan and his partner, Marie, got married Saturday. I am Godfather to their son, Zie, and felt as such it was my obligation as a pushy American to push them toward marriage. So Janet and I did bug them a bit over the last couple years. This weekend it all happened and the whole family is very happy.

Unfortunately while we were looking forward to attending, because of the pregnancy we just felt it was safer to stay close to home.

So, let’s review. Baby Jack is coming soon, my BIL is married and I have a cabinet filled with Coke Light. Life is good!

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Baby Showers, Yayas, and the Miracle of Amazon

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Today Baby Jack is officially 30 weeks old, so we are coming down the home stretch. Janet is doing well though she has the normal aches, pains, swelling and kicking (by Jumping Jack Flash) associated with pregnancy.

Two days ago we had the Baby Shower at our home. It grew in conception from the small baby shower you might imagine – to a real party, with enough food to feed all of Valencia, beer for the boys, wine for everyone and Bailey’s for the girls. While cranky Dave wasn’t too thrilled with a big party at this point, it turned out to be a great success and reminded us all that we have to get together more often. The after effects of the lockdowns remain and I think many of us have forgotten how important getting together is. So thanks to Janet and her sisters for pulling this off.

Speaking of sisters, 17 year old sister Miaca arrived Wednesday, along with niece Jilliana. Janet worked them non-stop through the party and after. They were happy to be involved.

Perhaps more importantly, sister Leticia arrived. She will be Baby Jack’s Yaya for the foreseeable future. In the Philippines, if you can afford it, a Yaya (nursemaid) is pretty common. Typically they live in the home, get room and board and a small amount of cash. Leticia is a professional and has already raised 4 or 5 babies, so her arrival is just another indicator that this baby thing is really happening – and pretty soon.

Depending on the family and their finances it is not unusual for Yayas to care for a child until age 5, 6 or beyond.

Janet’s notion is that she and Leticia will take care of the baby at night for those first few months, and I will sleep. Hmm. Will see about that.

I am a great sleeper and it was sort of an issue with my previous marriage and children. When the baby would wake up at night for a feeding or some attention, my then wife would jab me in the ribs to wake up, I would stumble out to get the baby and bring him/her to mom for a feeding, and instantly fell back asleep. When the feeding was over, another jab to the ribs, I would take the baby back, return to the bed and be asleep by the time I hit the pillow. My then wife would often be incapable of going back to sleep at all. Is it any wonder we are divorced.

My sleep habits are nearly as good in old age as they were back then so I expect to stumble up to the cries of Baby Jack and go back to sleep quickly.

All our Philippines friends were generous and Baby Jack now has a nice supply of onesies, diapers, etc.

Speaking of which, several of our US-based friends had asked when the Baby Shower was and what we might need. As a former tech guy I decided to go the tech route and set up an Amazon Gift Registry. We chose items we need and tried to pick items without a crazy shipping cost to the Philippines. Our friends and family have been chipping in and it’s exciting to see. Our goal was not just to get a bunch of stuff (not that there’s anything wrong with that) but to engage with friends and family we haven’t seen since the pandemic and encourage them to connect with Baby Jack. Like the Baby Shower so far it has been a great success. BTW, if any US-based friends would like to see the Baby Registry it is located here: https://www.amazon.com/baby-reg/davejanet-weisbord-october-2022-valencia/2AL08GCDB5XS5

A big thanks of appreciation and love to all our family, friends and readers. This is an incredible time in our lives and we are happy to have your involvement, whether you are close by or very far.

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The Key to Happiness

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Many of Janet’s family members came over to Dumaguete this week. About half of them just stayed the day, several others (including my Father in Law) stayed a few days, and two girls will be here about a week. While technically the reason was that we gave the family our old refrigerator and they were here to pick it up, I am sure that for many that was just an excuse to come see a 6 1/2 month pregnant Janet. So they all piled into the back of a multi cab and took the ferry from Cebu to Negros.

Let me shift gears here for a moment and then I will get back to the gathering. Nearly anyone married or in a relationship with a Filipina and certainly any expat who lives here knows the story. The level of poverty most of these people live with is something unheard of to most any Westerner. I told my kids a few stories as did Janet when we lived in the U.S, but I am sure my kids did not comprehend or believe it. Homes without electricity or running water. Walking hours a day to school. Struggling for food. Having been with Janet over 10 years no story shocks me anymore, but still – it is a life incomprehensible to any American.

I say this because despite the poverty the Philippines is consistently rated as having one of the happiest populations in the world. And this week maybe I have figured out just a little piece of that happiness.

You see, the family arrived Sunday. Janet immediately fed them all breakfast. Afterwards the kids settled down in front of the TV, or on a phone or wandered the property. My father in law, who at 60 has been a farmer his whole life, went out, examined our gardens and yard – and went to work. I have known him for 10 years and know that there is no point in telling him to please relax and enjoy himself and to use these days as a mini-vacation; I know he won’t do it. He proposed a couple projects to Janet who agreed and spent Sunday, Monday and Tuesday working on our property. He managed to get a little help from a few of the kids but mostly he worked on his own, all day long.

Why does he do it? There was no huge need. Sure, the projects he completed were nice but not necessities; the garden is well maintained by Janet, a gardener who comes over once a week, and Janet’s brother Jorre; notice I didn’t include my own name in this effort lol.

Nor could he have thought that he is obligated. He knows that his daughter and her foreigner husband would be happy to see him chill out.

So why does he do the very same work he does 6 days a week at home? I think it’s because he likes it!

And how about my Mother in Law. She raised 10 kids. After she mostly raised the 10 she took on 2 and sometimes 3 grandkids. There are two additional grandkids who are at the family home often. She works all day and night cooking and caring for all of them.

You’d think that after the 10 were raised she’d never want to see a kid again – but it seems to be the opposite. I feel fairly confident that once our baby Jack comes along she will happily want to help with him.

So again – why? Necessity or obligation? Well, there is plenty of that for sure. But I think that mostly she likes it!

So let’s review: my in laws work their asses off 52 weeks a year and seem to enjoy it. Is liking what you’re doing the key to happiness? It is in the Philippines.

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Memoirs of an Ancient Dad to Be

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Those who know us and maybe some who don’t, know that Janet and I are expecting a baby. Today Jackson Criss Pillazo Weisbord hit week 22; meaning the due date is the end of October.

While I am not gonna discuss all the details, Janet and I have been at this baby making thing for a long time. Before we married, nearly 9 years ago, she asked me if I was OK with having a baby. “Sure, I love babies,” I said. But I also reminded her that at my age (60 at the time) it could be a challenge.

Janet chose to do the right thing and we waited a couple years to get to know each other better and for her to acclimate to life in the US before we got serious about baby making. Once we started “trying” I wasn’t worried; after all I’d had my 2nd child in my late 40s. I quickly realized that late 40s isn’t the same as early 60s.

After some months and no pregnant Janet we went to a gynecologist. Lots of tests for Janet; ignore the old husband. The conclusion? There was no reason Janet could not get pregnant; go back at it and return if we are still not pregnant in 5 or 6 months.

Five or six months later we returned. More tests and again the conclusion that Janet was fine. I remember sitting in the corner of the room with the doc and Janet. I literally waved at the doctor. “What about the old husband?” I enquired. It was almost as if this was the first time she’d considered me. I was sent to a clinic to provide a semen sample which was, let us say, less than robust.

I went to my doctor. At least 25 years my junior he looked at me confused. “How about referring me to a urologist?” I suggested.

Off to the urologist I went. He tested me for one condition and I was fine. After trying to question him he admitted, “most of the research money for fertility issues goes to women.” Nonetheless he ordered a test or two and basically wished me good luck.

Back to my primary doctor. Since I was by then approaching retirement and planning on relocating to the Philippines, my doctor said, “maybe when you are retired in your tropical paradise, the stress will be less and you’ll be able to get pregnant.” This was the grand plan.

We happily retired and move to Dumaguete. Once settled in we went back to baby making with no positive results. After six months we found a local gynecologist. More tests on Janet and more pronouncements that she was fine. The gynecologist told us there were no fertility experts in Dumaguete and referred us to a doctor in Cebu.

Once in Cebu, more tests and another determination that Janet was baby-worthy. More tests on me and a determination once again that I was still a bit lacking in the swimmer category. Further tests and options were discussed and we decided to take a vacation in January 2020 and when we returned go back to Cebu and get serious.

You can guess the next step. The pandemic arrived and we cancelled our Cebu plans. Of course we thought this was only a few months and soon we would be revisiting the doctor, but 2020 passed with no babies in the hopper.

2021 began and I was diagnosed with skin cancer and that took all our energy and the next 8 or 9 months. But Janet was determined and made it clear that when I was well we would get serious. After all, the experience taught us that life was short and neither cancer nor covid should get in our way.

So while I was in our Valencia home, recovering, Janet was back in Cebu for more tests and treatments.

Now I am not going to get too far into the medical details; they’re boring anyway. We were back and forth to Cebu more times than I can count. But in the end Janet took two home pregnancy tests and the results were the same – a baby was on the way!

I was delighted but shocked. I had already prepared myself for dealing with a very sad, unpregnant, wife. Now I had a laughing and crying wife (me too).

Because of the difficulty getting pregnant the doc had Janet get tons of bed rest and put her on a regimen of meds and vitamins. Janet’s alarm goes off throughout the day for the next round of pills.

At a couple months pregnant we were back to our Dumaguete gynecologist. But an issue was discovered and the doctor admitted that she was not expert enough to treat it and referred us to a more specialized OB. Janet eventually had a minor procedure at Silliman Hospital to deal with the issue and we all believe she is now fine and will make it all the way to full term.

So in a sense life has returned to normal; that is except for the 5 month old baby who kicks Janet more and more. This past week our 3 year old nephew was over at our house. Tired, he laid on Janet’s tummy where Jack kicked him. Everyone was pretty excited.

I have been busy buying and ordering stuff. The last time I did this baby thing I actually bought everything at a store. Now it’s mostly Lazada and Shopee; deliveries come often.

I have had 5 months now to deal with the reality that I will be a 69 (almost 70) year old with a newborn. Now we will have help. Janet’s sister is an experienced Yaya (nursemaid) and is moving here in August.

On one hand I cannot fool myself; my energy ain’t what it was in my 40s. OTOH I don’t have to work, race kids to child care, and while I may still worry about money, I don’t have to worry about how this month’s mortgage will get paid as I did back then. We are in short, Ok financially.

Let me talk for a moment about the difference between the attitudes in the US and the Philippines. In the US no one wanted to know about our having a child. While they might accept our marriage no one wanted to ask about that baby stuff.

In the Philippines, when we would visit before retirement, the 1st or 2nd question always asked when we met someone new was, “Do you have kids? Are you planning to?” This was conspicuously different. If anything, over the years it bothered Janet, because of course she had to answer that – no we had no children but were trying. I know that it made her very sad.

But for me it was a happy question. Here in the Philippines having babies is an assumed result of getting married. Most of my 60+ year old friends here have young children with their partners and they are all happy that Janet and I will be joining the club.

When my first son was born 26 years ago when I was 43, friends asked, “Do you know how old you will be when he graduates high school, Dave?” I would reply testy, “I’m good at math and am an engineer. I know exactly how old I will be.” Now, no ones asks and I wouldn’t care if they did.

But I know the reality; there are no guarantees in life and I will stick with Jackson and Janet as long as possible and impart to my son as much as I can in as many years as I have.

The other day someone posted a quiz on Facebook: “How old were you or will you be when your child turns 18.” Needless to say, I was the only one who answered “87.”

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Elon Musk – Save Me

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This week the world has gone crazy about the possibility that Elon Musk will mount a hostile takeover of Twitter. Here’s my Twitter story. I can’t prove any of it because of course Twitter will say nothing. But Elon, if you’re reading this – save me!

It was May of 2020, early in the pandemic. As a senior I was in lockdown here in Negros Oriental. Back then, idiot that I was, I actually listened to the powers that be and spent that month never leaving my house.

I was bored of course, bored out of my mind. I’d played guitar for hours, surfed the net, watched YouTube. I was running out of distractions. I was so desperate – I logged onto Twitter.

Now to explain: I’ve been a Twitter member for maybe 6 years or so, but I never tweet. Frankly I have never seen the great fascination with the platform. Literally the only times I’d ever tweeted regarded this very blog. The blogging platform I use, WordPress, has an automated link so that when you complete a blog post, it automatically creates a tweet which posts a link to my latest blog. That is literally it; the only times I have ever tweeted.

So I go to my Twitter account as if entering a new house. Then I looked at the list of who I was following. To my shock and horror I was following Hilary Clinton. I knew that there is not enough booze in the world to get me drunk enough to follow her. So, I removed her. There were 6 or 8 more political and media figures that I was following that I knew I would have never subscribed to. So again I removed my follows. A total of no more than 10 were removed.

Then I made the mistake that will haunt me forever. I thought, ‘now that I have deleted these clowns, maybe I should subscribe to the guy whose tweets I hear often – but hear second hand. And so on that fateful day I subscribed to @therealdonaldtrump. And with that I logged off.

24 or 36 hours passed and I was still bored to death. I logged onto Twitter thinking, ‘let’s see what wild things my new friend has said today.’ And there it was – a message on my home page saying that I was suspended.

What happened, I wondered. What had I done. Paranoia said, ‘You unfollowed Hilary – you’re toast.’ Or worse yet, ‘you followed Trump – you’re burnt toast.’

I tried to find anywhere to get customer service on the platform to address the issue or at least to find out what I had done wrong. There was nothing.

I looked it up on the Internet and sure enough I found a link to a Twitter form for trying to get reinstated. I filled out the form stating that I was aware of nothing that I had done wrong and to please explain or reinstate me. When I clicked to submit the form, I got an automated email stating that they had received my appeal and would respond as soon as possible. “Soon as possible” apparently is Twitter code for “never.”

A few months went by and I replied to their email asking for an update. Crickets.

Under the category of “Dave is unusually patient and trusting,” after a year I thought that I should file the form again just in case it fell through the cracks. The election was over; surely I’d been punished enough. I got an immediate automated email that the form could not be submitted since I still had a pending case – a freaking year later!

It’s not like I missed Twitter. As I said I had hardly ever used it. But the thought that I might have been suspended because of the follows I had removed or the 1 I had added annoyed the hell out of me.

So Elon – please look into this and let me back in!

After the Elon announcement I again logged onto Twitter. The message was now that I had been permanently suspended. I had never received a response to my reinstatement form. The suspension allows me to read what is there but not to tweet or edit anything. I am listed as no longer following anyone nor is anyone following me. I am a man without a country or a platform.

Here’s what’s interesting. Now when I look I see a list of my tweets all of which are former blog postings. Except for the last one. I am positive it was not there before; a fake ad for RayBan sunglasses. Could I have been suspended permanently because of this one phony tweet? Could I have been hacked? Possibly. I suspect Hilary – or Trump 🙂

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The Tourists are Back – Dueling Rants

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So, yesterday I am flying from Dumaguete to Cebu and got into a conversation with a foreigner couple that has lived in the Philippines longer than I have. We shared experiences and a few travails and then the conversation turned to the return of the tourists. The female half of the couple began to almost whisper, “I’ve frankly enjoyed the last two years without the tourists,” she said. I giggled and agreed adding, “It was the only positive of the pandemic.”

Since the Philippines allowed tourists to return a month ago, a large number of people are returning who belong to a category I don’t consider tourists; they are residents here who for one reason or another got stuck outside the country and couldn’t get back in. I have a few friends in this category. Any negative comments I might make do not involve them.

The FB forums have been filled this month with questions and complaints from tourists who have arrived and those in the process of coming. Of course I am not talking about ordinary tourist questions; where do I go to find this or how do I go about doing that? That’s standard fair and I have even thrown out a few suggestions which were of course promptly ignored.

I am talking about the type of comments like, “why the hell does the Philippines do X…why was my flight delayed…why is the service so lousy…where do I get a taxi in Dumaguete (Dave’s answer: go to Cebu and pay a cabbie thousands of Pesos to drive 5 hours south). There may have been a time I would have been more predisposed to listen to and even answer such questions but the pandemic has robbed me of such generosity.

Now going back to my conversation on the flight, we all agreed that the Philippines desperately needs the tourist trade to return. Dumaguete has done remarkably well but I know the hotels and resorts in particular have been hammered and have been waiting for the return of the tourists, even if some of the said tourists are – how can I put it gently – assholes.

I just got back from hitting the ATM. Behind me was a young foreigner cursing up a storm to those Filipinos he was with. Granted I am being judgmental – but when I saw his slightly burned face, I knew he was one of those much sought after returning tourists.

I then went into a fast food restaurant and sat down while my order was being prepared. A young, lost-looking foreigner entered, saw another white face (mine), and nodded and smiled. I fully expected him to come over and talk or ask me where to find a taxi but I suspect that I threw out enough of a stink eye that he grabbed his food and left.

In the end I realize I have to adjust. I will learn to smile again at the newbies. I will answer questions, brag a bit about my experiences, and renew my acquaintance with the polite person I once was before the pandemic. Of course then I will think, as we part with a smile, “When the hell are they leaving.”

—————————-

Rant 2 is a subset of rant 1 and I’ve talked about this before. There’s no two ways about it. There are a lot of angry foreigners in the Philippines and two years of pandemic hasn’t made the situation any better. The first couple of years we were here Janet and I saw them often; foreigners yelling at waiters, store clerks, in banks, malls, in government offices. It was unpleasant and at times embarrassing, as I worried that it reflected on me, which of course it doesn’t. The last couple years more and more of those tirades were performed not by strangers but by people we know. It’s discouraging. It strikes me that there are a few reasons for such tirades, none of which are valid.

1. The Customer is Always Right: Many foreigners believe this common Western cliche and act on it angrily as in, ‘You are not giving me the service I require and paid for.’ Of course the problem with this, besides the fact that we are in a different country with a different service notion, is that the cliche itself is utter nonsense. I owned a small business for many years and while I certainly wanted my customers, or to be more frank, wanted their money, I would never do just anything to keep them. If they wanted me to break company policy, the answer was a polite ‘No.’ And if they did anything to insult me or other people the door was made available to them. So yelling at a powerless person in the Philippines about what you require because you are the “customer” just makes you look foolish.

2. The Squeaky Wheel Gets the Grease: Somewhere along the line a common strategy in the West became if you yelled loud enough you’d get the most and best attention. Janet observed this a lot when she worked at a supermarket in the US. Customers thought if they yelled the loudest she would acquiesce. They didn’t know Janet. But many of those customers have brought the same notion to the Philippines. ‘If I yell loudest I will get what I want.’ Unfortunately, despite appearances, acquiescing is not the standard reaction for most Filipinos. For many people here the more common reaction is, ‘I know a perfect place to bury the body.’ So be careful about who you yell at. Even the tiniest Filipina has brothers – and they know places.

The other add to this rant is that the Philippines is very different from the West; there is no anonymity here. Believe me if you have lived in Dumaguete for any length of time people know you. Waitresses know what I typically order, guards at the bank know that I am “the cowboy,” because I wear a large safari-style hat. If Janet enters the bank alone, they will ask her, “Where’s your husband, the cowboy?”

An acquaintance of ours is a yeller. We’ve been told about him, “Everyone in the barangay knows he yells and they avoid him.”

The Philippines is like Cheers – “where everyone knows your name.” In other words if you lose your shit, everyone will know – and they will remember – forever.

3. We’re From the West and We Know the Correct Way: This is probably the most disgusting of the rationalizations. ‘I know the correct way to do things; you Filipinos do not. I will teach you – loudly.’ If this is your attitude – then everyone knows places 🙂

Addendum: For anyone whose read this blog these many years, you ought to know by now that my emphasis is humor. Most foreigners in the Philippines are not angry jerks, though unfortunately some are. The pandemic has magnified some of the jerkdom. Most foreigners I know agree it is not pleasant to encounter such foreigners and frankly it’s dangerous – often to the jerks.

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“All I want for Christmas” – is Power

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It’s been nearly a week since Typhoon Odette hit the Visayas region of the Philippines. Bringing Cat 5 winds and an ocean full of rain it devastated many parts of the country and was gentler to others. The following are my experiences and general impressions at this point in time.

“What me worry”

Dumaguete rarely gets hit by typhoons. The last one to really hit the area was about 10 years ago. It’s basic geography; we are further sound than the typhoon belt which routinely slams the island of Luzon (where Manila is located), hits the Visayas less often and Negros Oriental, where we live, infrequently. We’ve seen storms heading our way before but invariably they shift enough to miss us, just drenching us with rain. 

But this time the storm tracked toward Negros from the beginning and never wavered. By Monday it seemed likely to hit us. That said almost everyone I knew seems nonchalant about it. Few people were in the kind of panic or preparation mode that you might see in Florida as a hurricane approaches. Everyone seemed to think “what can you do. It’ll either hit us or it won’t.” But as the days approached not only did it not change direction it went from a Tropical Storm to Typhoon to Super Typhoon.

Up until the morning of the storm even Janet wondered why I was worrying and asked why I was so concerned. We had workmen doing a project in our home. Come Thursday afternoon they still were not finished but continued (no doubt wanting to get paid) until after 5:00PM. Getting the cash seemed more important to them than getting home and batting down the proverbial hatches.

Our neighbor has a successful construction supply company. They were preparing for their annual Christmas party. About 5:00 workers arrived for the buffet style meal. By 5:30 the winds picked up considerably and no one seemed worried as they filled their plates; that is until close to 6:00 when power throughout the Province was cut off. The party broke up quickly after that.

Let’s talk about the power for a minute. Our island is fed by a nationally run transmission line. My guess, and I can’t prove it and no one will admit it, is that the line was cut on purpose to save the system and potentially save lives from downed power lines. 

So by 6:00 we had no Internet or power. Our emergency lights kicked in and I turned on my battery powered fan – an essential for me.

Between 6:00PM – 10:00PM the winds picked up to the point of a serious storm; something I had experienced often. At 10:00 Janet and I went to bed determined to at least try to get some sleep. And that’s when the fun began.

I Can Sleep Through Anything

I have always told people that I am such a good sleeper that I can sleep through nuclear war; that night proved it. We had been told that the brunt of the storm would hit early in the morning but apparently Odette was not informed. Between 10:00 – 10:30 our 2 story houses was battered by winds that did not resemble any storm I had ever experienced. And then conveniently I feel asleep.

I woke up at 11: 30 and while the storm was still raging it wasn’t raging as hard as an hour before. I thought, ‘maybe that was the worst of it,’ and fell asleep again. I am told by Janet and friends that between 1:30 – 2:30 it was pretty damn bad. But I was asleep so it couldn’t have been that bad lol.

I must admit that I wish Odette had hit during the day so I could see what was happening. Since I couldn’t see anything, sleep seemed the best thing to do. I woke again at 3:30 and this time stayed awake; not because the storm was so powerful (the winds had definitely tailed off with an occasional big gust) but because I knew that in a couple hours I could see the aftermath and was scared and excited to see.

At 5:30 I went downstairs and checked Facebook, which was down, along with my cell phone service. I waited till 6:00 and tentatively went outside. The house has survived, my shop in the back of our property survived. Literally not a drop of water had seeped into the house or shop. Apparently I had worried for nothing.

There were a few tree limbs down and a neighbor’s tree had fallen onto our wall; the next day it was cut up easily and efficiently.

Rumors started but with no cell service, Internet or power they were just rumors. By the next day my cell service returned (if poorly) and I could see on FB the devastation. While Dumaguete had gotten by relatively well, surrounding towns in Negros Oriental were severely damaged and other islands just to the north had not faired so well. Cebu, Leyte, and Siargao in particular were devastated.

Janet’s home town of Alcoy, in Southern Cebu was hammered. The family’s old house before they moved 3 years ago into a stronger concrete home was hit by 2 coconut trees and destroyed. Flash flooding killed a number of their neighbors from their former home area. Janet’s newest nephew (under a year old) got swept away by the floods and was saved at the last minute. 

The family’s new house was hit by a coconut tree and the roof damaged but fixable. 

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All this took days to piece together. The day after the typhoon I had enough connectivity to contact my sister and children and tell them I was OK. It was another day or two before the real effect of the storm became clear.

Is Modern Communication Really Better?

Back in my childhood storms meant that power might be down and possibly (though rarely) phone service. If there was a natural disaster somehow local newspapers still managed to get printed and distributed. Many of us had battery powered radios which told us what was happening.

But after Odette, with no power, Internet or cell service, life was chaotic and I couldn’t help but wonder if communication’s really better today. OK it probably is but for 24 hours I wished I had a damn newspaper to read.

Disaster Olympics

Perhaps it’s cynicism but I notice that there is nearly a competition to determine who has it worse. “My power will be out for X weeks/months,” people proclaim. There are towns and entire islands where the estimate is many months. Those who chose to live in remote areas are likely to have far more downed trees and will wait much longer for power to return.

In Valencia, where we live, a suburb of Dumaguete, power has returned to part of the town; unfortunately not our part. We have been told maybe this week but I am doubtful. There is a downed and destroyed pole not too far away, surrounded by shattered trees. They’ve put up a metal pole to replace it but for whatever reason have not transferred the lines. 

Get a Generator

I have debated back and forth for two years about buying a generator. It was in our original house budget but when the budget – well, went over budget, that was cut. 24 hours after the storm I had had enough and announced to Janet that it was time to get a generator. I went to the local Honda dealership hoping to find the Honda generator I was wanting two years earlier. They were already down to one remaining generator and not the model I had lusted after. It was actually on sale and I said I would take it. “Cash only,” I was told. “How am I supposed to get that much cash in the middle of this madness? “ I asked. Shrugged shoulders and sorrys.

Janet and I split up to find a working ATM. We found a couple but both had huge lines. My guess is that most people in line were trying to get food, not generator, money. An hour and a half later we remarkably had withdrawn the money for the generator and its needed accouterments (these things suck gas big time). We got it home set it up and fired it up. So for the past 5 days we’ve powered our devices, chargeable lights, my battery operated fan, kept the fridge cold, etc. We can’t run an aircon, but if I get desperate I can go in the car and cool off temporarily.

A Minor Success

Just as bad as the power, was the Internet situation. Our fiber lines were down and I noticed that our box about a block away was destroyed. Now that I had connectivity via phone I went to the PLDT website and waited in a queue for an hour before a representative chatted with me. It was late at night but I was determined to at least put in the request and inform them our box was destroyed. To my delighted surprise about 24 hours later they called me and a pair of technicians came over. What were the chances they would have a replacement box, I wondered? Excellent as it turned out and within less than an hour we had our Internet back – and thus I can post this tome.

Christmas Movies

For years I do nightly Christmas movies as the holidays approach. My list has grown to the point I have enough that I have to start about December 1. There are the classics like It’s a Wonderful Life, Scrooge, and Miracle on 34th Street, the modern kick ass Christmas movies like Die Hard and Home Alone, and the comedies like Bad Santa and Christmas Vacation. This week all the movies are getting watched on my phone. Ah, the sacrifices we make in the Philippines lol.

It’s Christmas

Some of Janet’s siblings and nieces had planned to travel to Dumaguete for Christmas. This was a big deal since with the pandemic they haven’t been here in two years. Unfortunately Odette changed that plan and so while the family cannot come some of our friends can and we intend to have a great Christmas Eve feast. Of course we decided that lunch would be more practical than a dark dinner. Hopefully Santa will understand.

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Family History (or Is It Herstory)

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I have been into my family genealogy for the past several weeks, using a popular online portal. I’ll get into some of the why’s and wherefores in a minute.

The portal is amazing at linking you to obscure family members using billions of records worldwide. And once you find one family member, that opens the door to dozens of others. Yesterday I was fooling around on the portal, found a new family member (a cousin of a cousin of a cousin), looked at his birth and death dates and thought “died in his 30s. Didn’t live too long.” Then I looked at cause of death. This isn’t filled out that often but sometimes you can see “cancer” or “heart attack” – the usual. But this time the cause of death field listed “Nazi Victim.” The year was 1940 and this obscure relative who lived in Poland was a holocaust victim. Before I was done I found several other holocaust victim relatives. I didn’t know how or what to think. Of course I had always known that I must have had distant relatives that died at the hands of the Nazis, but they were no one I knew or anyone in our American family knew.

This was not the reason I went down the genealogy rat hole.

Like many Americans with immigrant families just a couple generations old I knew nothing about my past. Relatives only talked about their American lives and American relatives. I knew that my maternal Grandfather was born in England and his family came to the US when he was a baby. For 50 years, when asked, I told people I was one quarter English, since that was all I knew.

Not many years ago I said this very fact to my Aunt, the last real keeper of the family history. She laughed and I bristled and said. “Well, he was born in England, so…” “Yes, David” she replied. “He was born in England. Do you know why?” I shook my head. “At the turn of the century Jews escaping Russia and Eastern Europe traveled West and England was the jumping off point to go to America.” There went my fantasy of being a descendant of an English Lord.

My Grandfathers Ain’t What I Thought They Were: I always liked my paternal grandfather’s name – Jack. It was short and sweet and kinda tough – just like he was. Janet and I talked often that if we ever had a boy, we’d name him Jack. Imagine my surprise to see the 1910 census (Jack was born in 1899) and see the family listed with 11 year old Jacob. Other documents of that era also listed him as Jacob. By the 1920 census he was Jack and would never again be referred to as anything else.

My maternal grandfather (the English Lord) was named Sol Criss. Even though I thought of Solomon, no one ever referred to him as anything but Sol. As a kid I speculated that it might have come from the Spanish word meaning sun. After all, he was an English Lord, why not have a cool Spanish name. In the 1910 US census, when he was 7, there it was – Solomon. Other early documents referred to Salomon. After all the family spoke Yiddish, so the English spelling wasn’t consistent. But just like Jack, by early adulthood he was Sol and never anything else. Jack and Sol were Americans, damn it – not Jacob and Solomon.

I found that many of those old relatives changed their names, no doubt to sound more American and less Jewish. We kids all barely knew but loved our Uncle Charlie. He was my Great Uncle and spent most of his adult life working with The Three Stooges. The adults in the family considered him the Black Sheep, but we kids loved the name, Uncle Charlie, and he flat out had the coolest job in the world. Imagine my disappointment at reading the 1900 and 1910 US census and seeing that his name was actually Meyer.

My Great Uncle on my maternal side – Sol Criss’s brother, was named Hyman Francis Criss; my mother called him Uncle Hymie. By the time he got to New York and became a fairly famous New York artist, he was Francis Criss. Not many famous artists named Uncle Hymie I guess.

So why did I go down this rat hole? I’m frankly not really sure. Like most kids I couldn’t have cared less about the past or relatives from far away places who were dead and gone. By the time I was a 20-something adult and kinda interested many of those adults had died, including my mother and grandparents. Once in a while I would travel across the country and see my aunt and uncle; the same aunt who schooled me on why I didn’t have an English Lord grandfather. She would show me pictures and throw out a million names but none of it stuck.

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Now I live in the Philippines where family is the most important thing there is and am married to Janet with her large and close family. And sometimes I feel I have no family. Of course that’s not true. I have a sister and a couple children and two ex-wives. My aunt is still alive and well into her 90s. And there are some cousins. I see a couple of them on Facebook. They’re getting older lol. There’s a younger generation but I know little about them. So I started this process to find out whatever I could find out.

I traced both sides of my family back to my great great grandparents. I found the 1901 English Census listing the Criss family (before Sol was born) waiting to go to America, which they would do two years later.

Other takeaways. All 8 of my great grandparents were born in Russia, or what was then called the Russian Empire. Apparently it wasn’t just little Sol who was trying to escape the pogroms.

People back then got married early – sometimes really early. And they had boatloads of kids. Grandfather Jack was one of 8 children and Grandfather Sol one of 7. In fact Sol’s father had a child fairly late in life; I guess it runs in the family. And BTW, he lived till 95- so I’ve got that to look forward to!

I also found some inlaws from the 19th century who I am guessing were Mormons since they lived in Utah and Idaho, and had a bunch of marriages and more children than you can count.

I’ve traced some branches of the family back to the 18th century and am still hopeful to find Weisbords (although it’s unlikely they were spelled that way) back to Russia.

So the upshot of this is I do have a family. And 100 years from now when descendants look me up and see my history they’ll wonder – how the hell did he end up in the Philippines!

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Medicine in the Time of Covid

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I’ve gotten to write a lot this year about my medical experiences, but fear not; it won’t be about me today. One of the things that has annoyed me the most doing the last year and a half is that our leaders (political, medical, scientific, media) treat us like we are morons. At this point here in the Philippines people have figured out how to work with or work around the large number of restrictions. Most Filipinos are back to work, the businesses that survived have re-opened, the plaza here in Valencia is bustling. In fact the town has a bunch of new restaurants and business seems to be brisk.

While travel is difficult, the people who need to travel (including Janet and I) have figured out how to travel. Even at the height of the lockdowns we figured out how to find a restaurant to serve us and despite several alcohol bans, my liquor and wine cabinet are bursting to the brim.

But this isn’t exactly what I want to talk about today. The following are several stories with the names and circumstances slightly changed to protect the innocent. They all relate to medical issues and death here during these difficult times.

Number 1 – Our Gardener: We have a gardener here who does a wonderful job and works his ass off. No sense in saying what we pay him; in the US you wouldn’t believe it. He looks ancient but I finally found out he’s about my age. OK, I guess that does make him ancient.

He hasn’t taken the vaccine nor does he intend to. BTW, if anyone is wondering, I’ve been vaccinated here (Sinovac) and am far from an anti-vaxxer. That said I know that many people here don’t want to take it and I have no problem with that personal decision. The gardener told Janet he was no fool and that he takes good care of himself, gets plenty of fresh air, sun and exercise in his job and does his best to socially distance. But he’s scared of the jab. The following scared him worse.

He told us a story of his cousin. About his age and from what I could gather with heart issues, the cousin took the vaccine and the next day got sick with chills. The family chose not to take him to the hospital and the cousin died. I have no idea what he died of nor does the family and that is sort of the point of this blog.

Here in the Philippines, where religion is still important, death and the subsequent funeral is a very important thing. So is family. All Filipinos know that if your elderly family member is taken to the hospital he will be swab tested. If he tests positive he will be quarantined and no family member will be allowed to see him. If he dies after a positive test, there will be no viewing, no church funeral and no burial with the family in attendance. The body will be sent directly to the cemetery. Everyone knows this and so for many people the decision is to not take the ill person to the hospital. In this case, could the cousin have been saved? We will never know. But my gardener ain’t getting the jab.

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Number 2: A man was stabbed in a dispute. He was rushed to the closest clinic where it was determined that he would need surgery and was sent to a hospital in Cebu. First thing that happened was the swab test and he tested positive, despite the fact he had no symptoms – well unless you think a gaping stab wound is a symptom. He was quarantined in the hospital for 14 days but was able to get his surgery done and did survive. No family was allowed and in fact family members who’d been in contact with him were also quarantined. Neither the man, nor any members of his family ever showed a symptom. Had he died from his stab wounds his family would never have seen him again.

Number 3: I wrote of the death of Janet’s Grandfather/Lolo last December, at age 90; a pretty old age for a Filipino man. He died in his sleep. He was not sent to the hospital for an attempt to revive him, for exactly the reason I am writing about here.

In fact, the part of the story that I did not write about last December was that several days before he passed away he was depressed because he missed his family and was not eating. His daughter, my Mother in Law, went to the local clinic to ask for vitamins to help him eat. They strongly suggested she check him into the clinic. She refused, knowing what this could mean. Several days later they actually came to visit Lolo and encouraged him to check into the clinic. He refused. Could they have helped him? At his age and in his condition probably not. But his fear and the family fear that they would never see him again outweighed any possible benefit. In the end he passed away peacefully and had a proper viewing and funeral.

This is in stark contrast to his illness the year before (prior to Covid). At that time he got a lung infection and spent several weeks in a clinic getting antibiotics and oxygen. He survived and returned home to live another year.

Janet’s Grandmother/Lola: A little more than a week ago Janet’s grandmother passed away at age 89. She too died in her sleep. There was never a consideration about rushing her to a clinic for an attempt at revival.

Janet’s Uncle: Janet calls him an uncle, but he’s really Janet’s Mother’s cousin. He was recently ill and rushed to the hospital by his son. The son was tested for Covid and tested positive. The father never got tested; he died shortly thereafter. Because the son tested positive, Janet’s uncle was sent directly to the cemetery, never to be seen by a family member or to have a funeral, despite the fact that no one ever determined whether he even had, let alone died of Covid.

I have 5 or 10 more similar stories but you get the idea. Going back to my original point, people here aren’t stupid. If you punish them for taking their family members to a hospital they will stop doing it.

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My PI CAncer Adventure – Lessons Learned

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Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

Part 5

Part 6

Part 7

You can all breathe a sigh of relief. This will be my last posting in this epic tome. I’ve been home almost three weeks and my nose is returning to what will be its new normal. My oncologist has cleared me, I’ve seen my dermatologist (as I will every 6 months for the rest of my life) and I visited a cardiologist who said I was fine, with my heart just compensating for – you know, getting old. My energy is coming back. In short I expect to put this ordeal in the rear view mirror soon.

I hear expats all the time complain and worry about health care in the Philippines. So the following are my lessons learned and suggestions. Take them with a grain of salt of course. It’s your body and your money.

Get a Doctor(s): Many guys here just wait till they have a major problem or keel over and then are dragged to the ER where they get whatever doctor is on call. And then of course complain about the care or the costs. So get and visit a General Practitioner regularly. Get a check up and have your blood work done. You’ll not only feel more confident that you are not likely to keel over, you will have an entry point into the medical system who can recommend treatments, medications and other specialists when needed. Yes, you may have to visit a few GPs before you find one you like, but that would be true anywhere.

The same is equally true with specialists. As we age and our little bits and pieces age they need to be cared for. So, depending on what issues you have, find a dermatologist, cardiologist, optometrist, dentist, etc. Typically doctors visits here are cheap – so go to the specialists you need.

And BTW, if you are pasty white and older in the Philippines, you definitely need a dermatologist.

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Get PhilHealth: I am surprised at how many expats here do not have PhilHealth. Yes I understand that a few years ago they raised their rates for expats and guys were pissed off, but unless you have other medical insurance it is still a good deal. If I have done my math correctly, this year PhilHealth covered nearly 100k of my treatments.

While PhilHealth only covers in-patient hospital care, many procedures are considered in-patient. My surgery in Manila was in-patient, even though I never spent a night in a hospital. My radiation therapy in Cebu was the same.

In addition, while it is true that my PhilHealth premium increased it also covers Janet. So again, It’s a good deal you should strongly consider.

Do Your Research: It may be harder, but if you know that you need an upcoming procedure, do your research. Ask about doctors, hospitals and the best procedures available. Ask about costs although this may be harder to pin down since the typical answer will be “it depends on what the doctor orders.”

I find that Americans do a little better with this than those expats from countries with socialized health care systems. Those guys are used to “free” healthcare and are less used to a system where healthcare has different prices, just like other services. Americans are also used to being gouged by doctors and hospitals and so are often pleasantly surprised by prices here – that is if they do their research – if they don’t they can get gouged here also.

Know People and the System: The Philippines is a communal society. Everyone seems to know everyone. Most expats do not take advantage of this but you should. Here are two examples:

Last summer, after the pandemic was well underway, but before we knew what we now know (lol) I had a weird rash, unlike any I had ever had. I also was running a slight fever. After a couple of days I wondered, ‘should I get a swab test?’ But we were all still afraid of going to a hospital so I hesitated. Then I remembered that I have a guitar repair customer who is a front line doctor. Apologetically, I contacted him. We spoke on Messenger and I described my symptoms and showed him my rash. He confidently confirmed that it was not Covid and I did not need a test. An antihistamine would help, which it did. I thanked him and apologized again but he reminded me that telemedicine is the present and future.

Second story: Recently I got my 1st Covid jab. I was surprised by several expat friends who didn’t know that it was available here and complained that their local towns or barangays did not come to tell them. Remember, this is the Philippines – a communal society. Everyone knew the vaccine was available for seniors; except my few friends. So, get to know people and get to know the system. Do you know where your barangay is? Do you know your Barangay Captain? You should. Janet and I know ours and we have texted her several times over the years when we had issues and she always got back to us with answers. So know people and know the system.

Have cash and keep it separate: Moving to the Philippines without actual cash in the bank is a disaster waiting to happen and most of us know this. What I am talking about is having a medical or emergency fund separate from your monthly living expenses fund. We have such a fund in the US. In addition, I also keep some cash in a dollar account in my Philippines bank. I keep it separate from my Peso account, so we don’t end up spending it for monthly living expenses. Figure out something similar. It doesn’t have to be huge – just enough so that you can easily access it in an emergency. The same can be true with a credit card. Most (though not all) hospitals will take credit cards, so in a medical emergency having a credit card can help.

Anyway, I hope and pray that this is the end of my medical adventure here. That said, as we get older there is a reasonable chance that there will be other such adventures. I think I’ve learned a little about navigating such adventures. Hopefully, you the reader have also.

Humorous, irreverent, occasionally informative look at a no longer newly wedded Fil-Am couple