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Tell Us Where to Go

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OK, that title was a great setup line and I am not interested in being literally told where to go. Since you’re not my kids or either of my exes, you don’t get to do that.

However, Janet and I are very excited. Last night we booked our flight to return to the Philippines. We will be there for three weeks  from April to May!

So now I am giving you, dear readers of MarriedaFilipina, an opportunity to tell us “where to go;” your favorite place in the Philippines and why.

Our trip will have 3 pillars: family, travel/fun, and future living. Regarding family, we will spend about one week in Alcoy, Janet’s home town, 3 hours south of Cebu City. I know she misses her family terribly and I look forward to seeing them also. They have always been wonderful to me and the energy surrounding family get togethers makes me soar.

The other couple weeks we want to spend having fun, exploring, and checking out spots to live in in our dotage (coming much faster for me than for Janet).

Other than our plans to be in Alcoy, we also will spend part of our time (perhaps just a few days) re-visiting the Dumaguete area in Negros. I really liked what I saw of Duma and Valencia last year, and would consider it for that for that upcoming period of my dotage, so any other recommendations in that area or surrounding Negros areas would be considered.

Usually, a lot of men use http://cute-n-tiny.com/cute-animals/puppy-nom/ levitra prices to handle ED. The pills are known to be as effective and reliable as the purchase cheap cialis branded medicines. They have a vast buy levitra online collection of hookah items such as cigarette, hookah, cigar and many more. Horny goat weed has traditionally been used by Chinese medicine for centuries as a cure for erectile dysfunction, then let us provide you with all the important information that you need to know regarding Vardenafil. tadalafil 20mg uk Janet of course believes that life in the Philippines starts and ends on Cebu, and so any recommendations on Cebu island would be eagerly appreciated. I am considering a stop in Moalboal for the snorkeling and Janet has talked about the falls in Badian.

Where else? There are over 7100 islands in the Philippines and I am open to exploring any or all of them. Let’s see – if I visit 100 islands a year I can see them all by the time I turn 133. Sounds like a plan and your help is appreciated.

 

 

 

 

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Christmas – Fil-Am Style

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It’s Christmas time – not in the Philippines but here in the good old USA. (Ok it’s Xmas time in the Philippines too but that’s not my point.) This is Janet’s 2nd Christmas season here in foreigner land and our 3rd Christmas together as a couple. I know she misses what she considers to be a true Filipino Christmas; one that starts back in September and continues unabated for months and months and doesn’t end until New Years Day. Here she is surprised to see people putting up trees just a few days before the event.

And when I explained to her that I used to wrap presents the night before Christmas, so that in the morning they would appear under the tree to excite my children, she doesn’t completely understand. Our tree’s been up for weeks and that was too late for Janet: I was the Scrooge who insisted it shouldn’t go up until after Thanksgiving. And our presents appear under the tree the moment they enter the house; wrapping them has priority over everything else. It’s as if it doesn’t count if they are not wrapped immediately and placed under the tree. When new presents are placed, Janet reorganizes the entire layout of the presents; like a chef who cares more even about presentation than what’s being served. After which pictures are taken. When I suggest that pictures should be taken only after all the packages are under the tree, Janet gives me “the look.”

Our house has been decorated like it has never been decorated before. Multiple trips have been made to the Dollar Store, since while Janet likes her bright decorations, she is nothing if not practical. And once again, each time a round of pictures is taken and posted to that world wide communal favorite – Facebook, so that friends from all over the world can ooo and aahh, impressed that the kano (Jewish kano, to boot) supports a proper Christmas.

Yet I knew all this effort wasn’t quite enough and so when friends of ours proposed that we get together on Xmas Eve, I suggested our house to host the shindig. The 4 of us have become 10 or is it 12 or 15; we will find out tonight. I was instructed to buy lots of pork, which I did; and then instructed to get more still – which I also did.

It still strikes Janet as odd and almost offensive that we are doing this event pot luck style. In the Philippines, if you invite people over for a party, you supply everything; they only supply empty stomaches and parched throats. But here, the first thing that people ask is what can they bring. And so we will have ribs and chicken and pulled pork and lumpia and salads and desserts and wine and beer and booze. We might as well be feeding the whole barangay, except that in the U.S. the neighbors don’t just show up. I am getting so used to the Filipino way I kind of wish that they would.

There is one other struggle for Janet when it comes to Christmas; what to get Dave. I am old and a “rich kano” and so really have everything I need. Clothes? Over the years I have accumulated more than I can generally wear. Household crap? Like most Americans I have too much. Tools? Again too many and I spent last year downsizing my tool collection.
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Also, I really don’t want Janet to spend much of her hard earned money, obtained in modest sums by working much harder than I do, on her husband who doesn’t need anything for Christmas other than her.

However, I do have a long time weakness – watches. After Janet asked me innumerable times what I wanted for Xmas, I finally mentioned that a particular company was having a great sale. Janet jumped at the chance to get me something I truly wanted. We went to the company’s website, she helped me choose the color of the watch and the next thing I knew it was here, wrapped and under the tree. It’s the first time in many years that I am truly excited about receiving something for Christmas. But that’s Janet; she really is excited to make me happy for Christmas, even though as a Jew I will never completely be in tune with the celebration.

Despite that, I am trying my best. Tonight we will have our friends over, stuff ourselves and get properly merry, aka drunk. And tomorrow my kids will come over and we will all happily open the presents.

And shortly thereafter I will no doubt post a pic of me proudly wearing my new watch, not because it’s expensive, not because it’s a brand name; but because my wonderful wife got it for me! And also, because it’s gonna look cool as shit!

Merry Christmas everyone! Thanks so much for supporting us and supporting this blog! It’s been a blast. See you all soon, one place or another.

Blogette

The Joys of Saving Children and Piglets

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Janet just told me this quick story and it struck me as funny and sweet in a weird way, so I thought I would share it. She has been very concerned about the upcoming typhoon Ruby and checking in with her family often and instead of panicking this is the story her mother shared with her today.

The family is large and diverse and three young ones are still living at home. It seems that her younger brother wanted to go out. Janet’s mom gave him a strict time to come home. Naturally, being a kid, he lost track of time and didn’t come home. Either that or he was having too much fun to care about mom’s rules. She went looking for him and ended up at the local Internet Cafe, where the youngster was playing video games. She had a look on her face and a stick in her hand and Janet’s brother knew what that meant and took off at top speed.

Mom was not about to run after him and calmly walked home still prepared to discipline her child. When she arrived he was there waiting for her with a big smile on his face.

“Why are you smiling at me?” mom asked.
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“So that you don’t beat me,” he answered.

She cracked up laughing and the beating was avoided. Sounds like it was a good lesson for both of them.

——-

As anyone involved in the Philippines knows it’s typhoon season. While we now wait for the big one named Ruby, last week a somewhat weaker storm hit. Despite it being much weaker only dumping rain in Janet’s former hometown, the water ran off the local mountain and flooded much of her neighborhood. The rushing water was over 5 feet high. Roosters and pigs floated off and even a carabao was seen being washed away. Janet’s ate, her older sister, had recently begun raising piglets. One of the piglets was caught in the rushing water. Janet’s older brother, who’s a pretty cool guy and I would like to get to know better, doing his best impression of John Wayne, made an impromptu lasso and lassoed the piglet as it washed by to what would have been a certain death. Pigs are priorities in the Philippines.

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Don’t Mess With the Janet

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In my last mini-blog posting I asked whether anyone was interested in being a guest blogger here at Married A Filipina. Janet had encouraged me to look for alternate views to my own, though she wasn’t quite willing to write anything herself. There was a rousing response to my request. Actually I am being sarcastic – there was no response.

But a couple days later I got pinged on Facebook by a Filipina who said she might be interested. Our first conversation was brief, chopped off by my having to run to work. She asked if she was qualified and I asked if she was in a relationship with a foreigner. I explained what I was trying to do with my blog; document in humorous fashion a relatively new Fil-Am marriage, but that I thought alternative viewpoints, especially a Filipina’s would add spice to the gumbo.

There was a bit of confusion about how she would “profit” from being a guest blogger and I told her she probably wouldn’t profit at all. She encouraged me to join a FB group she was part of which might give me an idea of her point of view. I did and promptly forgot all about it until the next day when she contacted me again.

Somehow we got on the subject of places to retire in the Philippines. She lived outside Metro Manila and believed that area was the best. Cebu she didn’t like, Mindanao was dangerous. “Read the crime statistics” I was told. My life is boring enough without having to read crime stats. “Cebu is not good,” was her conclusion. ”Lots of hookers.” Typhoons also. And too damn hot.

“I have no interest in hookers,” I replied. I thought that living through a typhoon in my post-retirement dotage might be fun. Hot I figured came with the territory throughout the Philippines. I mentioned that I had been to Valencia outside Dumaguete and that was a bit cooler and very nice.

“It’s too damn hot there also,” I was told.

In short the conversation was negative and boring but I did learn that where she lived there were no bars with hookers. I mentioned once again I had no interest or need in hookers, as I had a sexy wife to go home to. That was where I made my big mistake.

“Picture?” I was asked. “Let me see if she is really sexy.”

By now I was annoyed. “You can see her on my blog – there are some pics there. But of course she is sexy to me.”

“Hope you’re not like many expats calling their ugly wife a beautiful wife lol,” she replied.

“Well, if an expat thinks his wife, ugly or not, is beautiful – I think that’s great.”

“You can use the word great but not beautiful,” I was told.

These drugs are also helpful in cheap sildenafil no prescription mountain areas, as they protect people from lung problems associated with high altitude. Some people have misperception regarding the uses of cialis 5mg. Long-lasting temporary tattoos are more than just simply temporary decor for your skin, they’re a way to acquire your customers and business builders, right? The problem is becoming very common these days, with approximately one in seven couples coming across it, as shown by studies. browse this link levitra 10 mg One of the best examples of peptides canadian pharmacies viagra in our daily life is proteins. Now I was in the middle of a classic Filipino argument, one that I have had with several Filipinos, as well as several kanos, namely that some foreigners choose unattractive Filipinas for girlfriends and wives. I have touched on this subject before and it is ultimately in my view a silly debate. Tastes are, after all, different. The sort of foreigner who may view the dark skinned, exotic Filipina beauty as his ideal has a different taste than many Filipinos, who value light skin, long noses, a bit of height; in short who value a different set of beauty standards, possibly a whiter set of standards. It’s debatable whether this is a racial issue, a class issue, or just the old fashion “opposites attract.” Bottom line is that I am perfectly happy with Janet’s color and shorter nose, and you can keep all those Caucasian looking Filipina actresses and models they go gaga over in Metro Manila.

But that explanation was not enough for my new found chatmate who insisted that there was an objective notion of beauty and the foreigners didn’t know what it was and that at least instead of declaring his wife beautiful, the foreigner married to the ugly, horse- faced Pinay should merely say “in my eyes she is beautiful.”

Sexy, it was explained was the same. It required a perfect body size. I tried to claim that “Sexy is also an attitude,” but was clearly wrong.

Eventually, I ended the conversation by falsely claiming I had to go back to work. I thought that was the end of that, but boy was I wrong.

That night, over dinner, I told Janet about my weird conversation with the woman from Metro Manila. I was a bit disappointed that she was the only person who expressed any blogging interest.

The next morning I was at work when Janet messaged me on Facebook. She had read the conversation between us and went ballistic. She messaged the woman with an f-bomb laced tirade using adjectives I didn’t even know she knew how to use. Janet is normally such a sweet person, but get her mad and she can go off. Thank goodness I was on the other side of town.

“You’re mad at me too,” I said. “Why?”

“You should have defended me. She was attacking me and you tried to be nice to her.”

“She really wasn’t directly attacking you.” But I understood what Janet meant. In her view the subtle remarks about expats claiming their wives to be beautiful and sexy were, at least to a certain degree, about Janet.

“I don’t yell and curse at women,” I replied. And I realized that there is a vast difference between how I would react to a man and woman. I suspect that if a man insulted Janet I would be pissed and at least unleash my very skilled tongue at him. I might do more, but at my age and with the shape I am in – it’s probably a bad idea. But with a woman – we’re trained to be polite and respectful, so the most I could say to her was “if the man thinks his wife is beautiful, who am I to say she is not.”

None of this satisfied Janet. She had been disrespected and “wanted war.” I think she was ready to hop on the next flight to Manila and meet this woman head on. I was appalled and reminded myself that when we are in the Philippines not to ever allow Janet to get a bolo. That could prove costly to me.

BTW, I couldn’t find any pictures of Janet looking mean or tough, so I had to fall back on Janet’s standard look – cute! And yes, yes, I know that’s my opinion and not based on objective reality. But it’s true and anyone who says otherwise is gonna hear about it – from Janet 🙂

Blogette

You Too Can Blog for Fun and Profit

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I’ve been blogging for something like 5 months and have been having a blast doing it. As a sometime writer I knew I would enjoy the writing process. What I didn’t realize is how much I would enjoy the reactions.

Friends, relatives and co-workers are reading  Married a Filipina. They comment to me often – sometimes even positively. And I’ve made plenty of new friends who find and friend me on Facebook. Of course to some of the Filipinas who’ve friended me recently I have to say, “Sorry, I am happily married :)”

So now is the time to share the joy, so to speak. Are you married or in a relationship with a Filipina? Are you a Filipina married or in a relationship with a kano? Do you have a funny or fun story to tell, a perspective to share, a point of view, a gripe? Well I want to hear it and I am sure that other readers of Married a Filipina would love to hear it also.
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So, if you would like to contribute, we want you! Contact me here on the blog or on FB. And BTW, don’t worry about your writing skills – I never do.

 

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Home vs. Away, Foreigners vs. Locals

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Not to get overly philosophical here but human history can be summarized into the universal divisions of us vs. them: country vs. country, religion vs. religion, race vs. race. Or in the case of the Philippines, “foreigners” vs. “locals.”

Now I know that some foreigners don’t like being called “foreigners” and I get it, I suppose. But it makes me wonder how Filipinos feel about just generically being lumped together as the “locals.” If any Filipinos/Filipinas want to weigh in on that question I’d be happy to hear from you. My guess is that you’re too polite to call the “foreigners” who refer to “locals” with the word you’d really like to use and it ain’t foreigner. Janet, OTOH, would have a choice name and it ain’t exactly “Joe Kano.”

I got to thinking about this, something I do far too much at present, particularly since I hope to retire soon and lay around on a beach drinking San Miguels, chasing Janet and certainly not spending much time thinking. But for now I’m allowed to think and here’s what occurred to me. Often the “foreigners” who don’t like being called foreigners, but like calling Filipinos the “locals” have another pair of words that get in the way of their happiness: “here” and “home.”

I was talking to my friend Robert the other day and we were pontificating on the differences between guys who are able to expat (or even travel) successfully and those who can’t. The former are the ones who adjust, instead of expecting the Philippines and Filipinos to adjust to them. And again it occurred to me that the key might just well be how we define “home.”

In a couple of months I will have lived in my “home” city for 40 years. It’s hard for me to believe. I came here less than a year after college on a complete lark. Bought an old Beetle, loaded up all the junk I owned in life (which filled about half of the VW) and off I went. When I arrived here I told my friends and anyone who might listen that I was only here temporarily and would be returning “home” in a year or so. “Home” was Philadelphia, where I grew up, although it could have just as easily been New York City, where I went to school and dreamed of success.

Every time things went badly I would again tell my friends and anyone else (who no longer wanted to listen) “I’m going home.” But of course I didn’t.

After a year or so I stopped saying, “I’m going home.” I still wasn’t 100% committed to my new city and would say, “If things don’t work out here, then I might go home.” That’s how it was for the next couple years. “Home” was still on the other side of the country, though it beckoned less and less.

After a few years I stopped referring to (or threatening to) go home. Where I lived was now “home.” It took a few more years but eventually those other places became “where I grew up” or the “back East.” Pretty soon, I stopped dreaming of even visiting those places; truth is I dreaded it and when I infrequently went there, I couldn’t wait to “come home.”
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Of course, it took still many more years before I stopped calling myself an “East Coaster” or a “Philadelphian” and defined myself as a “local” of my current city, despite the remaining hint of an East Coast accent. Forty years has allowed me to create whatever identity I decide upon.

I suspect this is how it is for many expats in the Philippines and elsewhere. They’ve lived abroad for a few years but still think of “home” as where they came from. Their people aren’t the “locals”; they’re people from the same country they left. Maybe they even spend most of their time hanging out with those people. I know in the first years after I moved West, I spent a lot of time hanging out with other East Coasters, who I thought had a more reasonable view of the world than the fruity West Coasters did.

The difference is that while I eventually made the adjustment and came to call my new home “home” and that old home “the shithole I came from,” some expats don’t seem to make that transition. Perhaps it’s the massive differences between cultures, or that most expats are older and less flexible. In many cases the guy came to the Philippines for his wife or girlfriend and never considered it to be “home” and doesn’t want to.

But there are exceptions. I read blog pieces from a guy who’s a retired Philippines Snow Bird, spending half his year in the US and half in the Philippines. When he is spending his half year in the US he misses his “home” in the Philippines. I never hear him say he’s missing the US; that’s the place he came from and the place where much of his family lives. But his “home” is 8000 miles away.

It took years, decades really for me to make the transition. So can I really get pissed at the expats who called their Filipino neighbors the “locals,” think of home as the country they came from and get annoyed when they are referred to as “foreigners?” Actually, I can still get pissed but that’s a “me” problem, I guess. Seems to me that once you’ve made that transition – that’s “home.” The sooner you accept that, the sooner you can start to enjoy the pleasures of your new home instead of bitching about its shortcomings.

But what about Janet? I know she hasn’t yet made the transition. “Home” for her isn’t the town where we live. Home is in the Philippines, specifically Alcoy. Hell, she doesn’t even think of any island other than Cebu as home. For Janet, Mindanao is as alien and frightening as living in the U.S. We spent a few days in Dumaguete on our trip in April and despite the fact that it is closer to Alcoy than Cebu City, because it is not in Cebu it felt too far and unhomelike to Janet.

I want Janet to be able to accept our current city as “home” without giving up Cebu as “home,” as well. Perhaps I am unreasonable, wanting her to maintain a Walenda-like tightrope balance that most expats don’t maintain. I except that I have high expectations; probably why I went all the way to the Philippines to find my lovely wife in the first place.

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How to Give Your Filipina Wife a Great Christmas?

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Anyone who has ever been to the Philippines, dated or married a Filipina, or ever entered a karaoke bar knows that Christmas in the Philippines is a big, big deal. Fortunately, for those of us who do not live in, but only visit the Philippines, you don’t have to be around on December 25th to get the full flavor of the holiday season. It starts in September (August really) and goes full throttle for four months, plowing right through the 25th and heading for New Year’s Day.

I have only been in the Philippines for the actual holiday season once, leaving for home early on the morning of January 1st, after an all-night Manila fireworks display, with more guns shot off than fireworks. When I got up that morning to get to my flight out of Manila, gunsmoke still filled the air, about what it must have been like the day after Gettysburg.

BTW, as an irrelevant aside, since my flight was so early, I decided to stay at a hotel close to NAIA Airport and since it was New Year’s Eve and my last night in the Philippines, I decided not to be my normally cheap self and to treat myself to a night at a 5-star hotel, the Manila Marriott.

I ate dinner alone at the hotel restaurant, where the holiday buffet was about $50/head. Poor Filipinos my ass! The place was filled, not with rich kanos, but with rich Filipinos. As most of my friends know, I am a bit of a watch nut, but the timepieces that were dripping off most of the men’s wrists in that restaurant would have been totally out of the question for me. The day before, I hit Mall of Asia and visited a watch store filled with $10k+ watches, and foolishly wondered, “who the hell can afford these in a 3rd world country?” Apparently all their customers congregated that night at the Marriott.

But this isn’t the point about this blog piece; it’s about Christmas in the Philippines – and my wife, Janet. The other day she seemed sad and when I asked why she told me she missed Christmas in the Philippines. “We have Christmas here,” I assured her. “And trees and presents too! Hell, we even have a chance at a white Christmas.”

“It’s not the same,” she assured me. I tried to reason with her; not the best thing to do with a sad Pinay. “It’s not long enough,” she said and I thought ‘thank goodness!’

I finally replied, “It’s just that we have Halloween first and then Thanksgiving. Once Thanksgiving is over, Christmas becomes big time here.” Of course, Janet already knew this; this will be her second Christmas in the U.S. But the day after Thanksgiving when Christmas season officially begins in the US, means only one month of Christmas, which honestly makes most Pinays feel very short changed.

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Of course once I had kids, Christmas became a must. Ex Number Two had boxes of ornaments she’d collected dating back I think to the Spanish Inquisition. Our first year together we had a large old house with high ceilings. She wanted the biggest tree in town and we got one that measured 14 feet. Cutting it was like a scene out of Christmas Vacation, with me playing the role of Clark Griswold trying to drag a 7” thick tree home, then cut it to fit. Of course the first time I got it wrong, since I’d failed to take the star on top into account. I complained, “I’m a Jew. What do I know about stars on top of Christmas trees?”

Anyway the point is that I did have many Christmases with kids, which mostly involved figuring out which bill could go unpaid so I could shell out the ungodly amounts of money for Christmas gifts, family dinners and the like. For me the best part of the season was the Christmas Eve dinner Ex Number Two liked to prepare. Not because of the dinner itself, which was perfectly nice, but because of the rum I was allowed to drink. No – I’m not a drunk. My Exes grandfather was from Barbados and when he would go back home he would come back with genuine, no shit Barbados rum. Not the swill they export to Americans; the real, full meal yummy deal. He gifted bottles to relatives but mostly spent the year bartering with his stash. The man never paid a doctor or dentist his entire adult life!

I am not much of a drinker but that rum was from heaven. Of course for 364 days a year Ex Number Two did not allow its consumption, hiding her stash. But on Christmas Eve out it came like Santa’s little gift just to me. So that’s why I love Christmas.

But back to the present. Last year I did my best. We went out and bought a tree, a few boxes of ornaments, general decorations, and threw a bunch of presents under said tree, even though half of them were for Hannukah. My kids, now teens – teens with attitudes, came over in the afternoon to collect the goods. Janet and I watched Christmas Vacation. She was a great sport about it all but in the end it wasn’t the same as I imagine Christmas must be for her in the Philippines, what with parents, and lolos and 9 brothers and sisters, cousins, ates, and a niece or two.

I have no grand conclusion here – just a question. How would you all suggest Christmas could be made better for your Filipina wife? By all means post your suggestions. After all, mine makes the other 364 days better for me.

 

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“Any of You Sum B’s Call Me Grandpa – I’ll Kill Ya”

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Last Friday I arrived home and almost immediately Janet asked, “Do you have any plans tomorrow?” I had no Saturday plans other than to lay around, which as a hard working kano I deserve, and Janet had the day off as well, so a little husband-wife time seemed in order. I assumed she had something in mind and asked, “Is there something you want to do?”

“Michelle and Douglas just had their baby and I want to visit.”

“Remind me who Michelle and Douglas are,” I answered. In the last year we have made friends with many Fil-Am couples and that in conjunction with my geriatric memory (I joke that I barely remember my kids’ names) made it necessary for Janet to jog said memory. She began to describe what each looked like and I nodded my head in recognition, though truth be told I didn’t remember. Saying that he is “tall and white” and she is “short and Filipina,” didn’t exactly eliminate many possibilities.

‘Where do they live,” I asked.

“They just moved to a new home. I have the address. I think it’s close.”

“Good. I had a long week and…” I read the address. “This place is at least 45 minutes away.” Actually, according to Google Maps it was over an hour away. She looked devastated. “But you know,” I continued. “If we went just a bit out of our way, we can do a nice drive up the Gorge and go to that restaurant we like for lunch.”

Janet began chatting via Facebook with Michelle. “We can have lunch there,” she announced.

“OK, but there goes my idea,” I said. “But if they’ve invited us for lunch…”

“They didn’t invite us for lunch.”

“But you just said.”

“We should bring them lunch. After all, when I have a baby I want people to visit me too.”

“And what kind of lunch do you want to bring them?” I said, a bit of exhaustion creeping into my voice, imagining preparing lunch and then driving an hour.

“Fried chicken.”

“You mean KFC.” Janet smiled happily.

Janet loves KFC. The only thing she doesn’t like about the place is the fact that there is no white rice on the menu. This makes no sense to her and is clearly a poor management decision and the prime reason KFC is no longer one of the fast food big boys.

“Can we get Popeye’s instead?” she quietly asked. Janet had recently discovered Popeye’s and considers it a step up from KFC, since in the Philippines “crispy” is king and a Popeye’s drumstick is crispy enough to use to break up cement.

I agreed. The weather was supposed to be nice, the drive would be pleasant and there is very little that I enjoy more than seeing Janet happily speak Visayan to a fellow Pinay. Janet’s English is good but speaking it is still a strain and causes a “nose bleed.” When she speaks Visayan she laughs and screams in a way that she can’t do in English. I love watching it. So, we were set for the next day.

That night we were watching a movie. For reasons that I still cannot fathom she chose from Netflix the bio-pic “Patton.” Three hours of explosions and George C. Scott scowling and holding his ivory-handled oten substitute!

Janet was surfing on her phone. As a writer and former wannabee screenwriter I find watching a film and Facebooking at the same time to be offensive but have given up trying to make an issue of it. Janet seems to be able to multi-task, though in the middle of Patton she did stop and ask, “What is this all about?”

My answer of, “A crazy World War 2 general,” seemed to satisfy her.

Suddenly she asked, “what do you think about this name?” She started throwing out combinations of first and middle names and I absently nodded my head in approval as husbands the world over do when they are trying to concentrate on a movie.

I didn’t need to ask why she was seeking my input on names. I knew all too well why.
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After she’d come up with a couple female combinations she liked, Janet asked, “What about boy names.”

“How about George Scott?” I answered. I was bored with the movie anyway and always considered Rommel to be the more interesting General.

We went back and forth on names for about fifteen minutes until she had several options she liked. My suggestion of Jack, my grandfather’s name, as well as Nicholson’s did not make her short list.

The next day we got up, Janet made rice, we grabbed a bucket from Popeye’s drive through and headed for our friends’ home. They live in a small city or big town; from Janet’s perspective it’s the provinces. The drive was nice, the air was clean, and the beautiful view from their yard was provincial.

The baby slept most of the time, as do all newborns. I have forgotten the child’s name; it was hard enough to consistently remember Michelle and Douglas. BTW, once they opened the door I did at least remember who they were!

Both parents gamely tried to wake the baby. After all, they reasoned, if friends had driven an hour and brought crispy chicken to boot, the star had to make an appearance. Finally, she did and Janet, Michelle and the baby disappeared into a bedroom, giving Douglas and I a great excuse to watch the Ducks whip UCLA.

I knew what was happening in the bedroom. Janet was getting herself more and more amped up for a future when she would be a proud mother. At 26, if she were still in the Philippines without child she’d be bordering on aged.

It wasn’t just Janet that was feeling the loneliness of being without child. Like potential grandmothers the world over, Janet’s mom was looking forward to a grandchild. She’d already let Janet know that if we have a baby and want to come visit, we could feel free to leave the baby behind for six months or so.

Now in American culture, Janet’s mother’s suggestion would be unheard of. After all the woman had ten children; three are still living at home and going to school. Several of her other children are living within rooster-crowing distance. She has two grandchildren who she is practically raising.

There is of course also the point that in the Philippines mixed children are considered highly attractive; like winning the lottery, our progeny might become the star of the barangay. Janet’s teenage brother had already made it clear to her 2 year old niece that “when Janet and Dave have their white, long-nosed baby” that baby will be replacing the two year old as the star of the family.

There have been other incidents. A couple weeks ago out of nowhere Janet wanted to rearrange our room. I complied and we moved stuff around. There was no real need or advantage to do so, but I innately knew why we were doing it; she was getting ready.

A few days ago, Janet’s BFF suggested that she should be pregnant by January. Now that Michelle and Douglas have had their child, there is only one more pregnant woman in our Fil-Am community, and she is due about then.  That would give Janet nine months of uninterrupted community attention.

The interesting point of all this is what I have described before as the dichotomy in my life. At work I actively talk about the end and my retirement plans which are at least within sight. At home we plan for another beginning. I guess I am too am getting myself ready.

—–

My teenagers are nearly 15 and 19, meaning that I was already in my 40s when I had them. One day, over 18 years ago I carried my then baby boy into the convenience store around the corner. I was a frequent customer but the Korean store owner had never seen my newborn.  “Ah, your grandson,” he declared excitedly.

“No, he’s not my grandson!” I yelled at the man, pissed as hell.

Four years later, I carried my newborn daughter into the same store. The same store owner declared happily, “Ah, your granddaughter.”

“No, she’s not my granddaughter!” I shouted.

At this age, with the possibility of a new baby looming, I suppose the best I can hope for is to be called grandpa!

Life is good and never boring!

PS. And finally, here’s Sam Elliot telling it like it is!

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=phrJkFCw6so

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Does Service Suck in the Philippines?

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One of the great complaints among expats and tourists alike in the Philippines is about the quality of service. Almost to a man they say it sucks. Now I don’t live in the Philippines, but have visited a bunch of times and never considered it quite as bad as advertised, though I will admit that might be because the clerk providing me with that “poor” service was a cute Pinay, making up for the service by throwing out “guapo Amerikano” every few minutes.

Now let me start out my rant with a basic concept: that anyone who thinks you can go to a third world country and get 1st world service is an idiot 🙂 Let me expound on this a bit first and use my lovely wife, Janet, as an example; I’ll get to her a bit later. What I really believe is that almost everything is cultural – even what we think of as good or bad service. The other thing I’ve got to question is the quality of service we think we get in the 1st world.

Remember that funny scene in Back to the Future, where Marty McFly travels back to the 50s (by way of a Delorian). He arrives in his small town and is shocked to look over at the local gas station (service stations back then) and watch three attendants descend on a car pulling in for gas. I am old enough to remember a time when attendants filled your tank (that’s done in only a couple of states today), checked your oil and water, put air in your tires, etc. Today if you want air or water for your car, there is a machine that costs $.75 – and you gotta run it. How’s that for service? I guess is must be OK, since most of us accepted the change and rationalized it by claiming that we saved a couple cents a gallon on gas.

I am also old enough (apparently this blog post is actually about my old age) to remember a time when doctors made house calls. As a kid I’d get the flu, my mom would call the doctor and he would come over (usually late at night), examine me and declared with great authority, “he’s got the flu.” I know, I know – you youngsters think I am making this up.

Today, if you’re sick at night, you wait till the next day (assuming the doc has office hours the next day – otherwise he might be able to see you between the front and back nine) or go to the emergency room, where a doctor barely out of puberty will poke you (after you’ve waited 3 hours). In the end you get a bill from the emergency room comparable to your monthly mortgage payment. Is this good service or just what we’ve gotten used to? If a pediatrician makes twice what POTUS makes, shouldn’t we expect him/her to miss a few hours of sleep or reschedule his damn tee time?

By the way, as a point of comparison, many doctors in the Philippines do make house calls, probably because in the Philippines doctors are not rich and they are worried that if they don’t show up that night by the next morning you might actually get better on your own.

There are a few things that have improved service-wise in the 1st world since my childhood. For example, you can go to your local box store and return just about any purchase. Most people consider this to be great service. “I don’t like the color – I’m taking it back.” And sure enough you can with no questions asked.

When I was a kid and you bought something at your local KMart (no Walmart back then) unless when you brought the item home it was broken – you were out of luck. And if it was broken, you didn’t get a refund; they gave you a replacement. And you filled out a form the length of a 1040 to get the replacement.

So it’s better now right? I suppose, but guess what? That customer service desk at Walmart with the friendly clerk who will take anything back with no questions asked – it ain’t free – ultimately we all pay for it!

Another common complaint in the Philippines is about credit cards. Some stores take them, some don’t. Machines don’t work sometimes. If you go to the third world expecting to get your Discover rewards points, you might be disappointed.
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Let’s use my old age as a baseline again, shall we. I know it’s hard to believe but not that many years ago people in the West actually went to stores and made purchases with cash or check. We were primitive back then, weren’t we? Then about 30 years ago some smart tech nerd made an amazing discovery and thus we were given the ATM. The machine was amazing. You could use what looked like a credit card and actually get cash anytime, day or night – so that you could go to that department store and pay cash for your purchases.

Eventually the cash card became a debit card and we all stopped carrying cash altogether. And checks? Come on! Janet and I have a checking account but no checks. What’s the point?

But guys go to the Philippines and discover that not all stores take debit/credit cards and not all store clerks are thrilled when you present yours. I know it’s hard to believe, but most people in a developing nation don’t carry American Express. They carry pesos, albeit too few of them.

A guy posted in a forum recently about an experience standing in line at the local supermarket behind an ancient and nasty kano. They were in the “cash only” line, but the old fart insisted loudly that he be allowed to use his credit card. The shy clerk finally agreed but the card wouldn’t go through and she suggested that maybe the coot’s card was not good. The guy yelled and screamed that he had enough money in his account to buy and sell the whole damn country. The poster was embarrassed for the poor clerk and embarrassed to be associated with such a foreigner.

OK, I hear you asking – how does this relate to Janet, who is what this blog should be about (if I were smart and wanted a nice ending to the night) – so let me try to pull that together. For five years before we were married, Janet put herself through college by working in a small Pension House on the island of Leyte, far from her home in Cebu. She got up in the morning and helped clean the rooms. In the afternoon she went to school. She returned in the evening and worked at the front desk until 10:00 PM. She checked guests in and out, handled the cash register and often just about ran the place in the absence of the owner and manager. If the relief person was late or could not show for work, she worked that shift also. She worked six and sometimes seven days a week, as is the custom in the Philippines. She provided excellent service and the staff and customers loved her, as did the owner. How much money did she earn? Zero! Yes you read that right; for five years she worked and worked and was paid nothing. Her compensation was that the owner gave her room and board and paid her tuition at the small college she attended. This is common in the Philippines. It used to be common in the West and there is a term that was once used to describe this form of work – indentured servitude!

Of course Janet was bright and pretty. Every day she and I would be chatting online from the front desk computer when she would say, “it’s time for the players.” I knew what she was referring to and they weren’t the kind of “players” we in the West think of. They were a group of older, rich Filipinos, who gathered daily to play Mah Jong at the pension house. Janet’s job was to serve them. My guess is that the “players” tipped her well and that made up the pocket money she used.

Yet despite the tough circumstances, she did not complain, finished her degree and managed to give excellent service to a variety of guests – particularly the “players,” no doubt.

About six months after we married Janet took a service job around the corner from where we live. By American standards it is not high paying. The job attracts young and inexperienced workers and the turnover is fast and furious. Just like at the pension house, they love Janet. She works hards, cares for the customers, helps her fellow employees, covers for them when they are sick. She has been asked many times why an attractive girl with a college degree would work in such a job, and work hard at that. She has no answer that they can understand.

In short, she provides the type of service that Filipinos are famous for the world over – and the word poor doesn’t enter into it!

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“If love is an amazing dream, then marriage is the alarm clock!”

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Today’s our one year anniversary. OK, it was the 22nd, but it sounds more dramatic if I say today. While there are always ups and downs, disagreements and even full blown arguments in any relationship, truth be told – this has been a great year.

If you throw in the one year I lived with my second wife prior to marriage, I was married for a total of 20 years. It’s sad and unfortunate to report but out of that 20 years, maybe one was happy – one combined. Oh, don’t get me wrong; there were nice moments. Children being born and growing up, that trip to Alaska. But when I really looked back and thought about when the primary relationship was good – well things came up woefully short. Perhaps that’s why I was twice divorced; well, it’s a theory.

I can say without hesitation that the last year with Janet was by far better than any year I spent married before. Granted, based on the previous paragraph the bar was set pretty low, but we easily cleared it.

As we always do, we posted a few Facebook pictures and comments. And Facebook kindly posts an anniversary reminder which got us dozens of responses from friends. No doubt a couple were amazed that we made it to one year. I was not.

But it was Janet’s posting that was most interesting and telling about this intersection of two cultures.

As you all know, when you post a set of pics on Facebook you usually create an album and name it. Janet’s name for her anniversary picture album was, “If love is an amazing dream, then marriage is the alarm clock!”

When I read the title, I cracked up. I figured it couldn’t have come from Janet. I gently broached the subject that night, just before we were to go out for our anniversary dinner.

“I read it and thought it was funny,” she said, confirming my assumption that she hadn’t written it.

“Do you know what it means?” I asked.

“Of course! When you are in love, the alarm clock goes off telling you it’s time to get married.”

“Um, not exactly.” I explained to her how the average American would interpret the line.

“I should remove it then,” she said. “But it’s still funny and I still like it.”

“Then you should keep it.”

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“That you’re funny. Keep it.”

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I had been checking online reviews to find a fancy restaurant we’d never been to for our celebration but when it came down to it Janet wanted to eat food that she enjoyed with a menu that included white rice with every entree, so in the end we went to our favorite Chinese restaurant. Not exactly Filipino faire but the side order of barbecue pork made it close enough. And Janet simply did not want us to drop a bunch of money on a meal, especially one she might not enjoy. But of course since I had saved a bunch on dinner and we finished early enough, Janet gently asked whether we might stop at the mall where an H&M sale was strongly calling her. She picked up a couple of $3-$5 items and found a way to get 10% off the total. That’s about as extravagant as she usually gets.

The morning after our anniversary we slept in. No, not for that reason! OK, truth be told not just for that reason. I had a doctor’s appointment at 10:00. In addition, my son had called the night before, during dinner, saying that his uncle wanted to come over in the morning to pick up some of his things and deliver them to him at college.

Now my former BIL is an interesting character. Very youthful looking for his early 70s, he’s a retired doctor-psychiatrist, and a not so retired playa. He had never met Janet but had asked me about her on an occasion or two.

He arrived just as I was about to drive off to the doctor’s appointment. After a quick greeting, I opened the garage, showed him the pile of stuff my son wanted and told him, ‘Don’t worry, Janet will close the garage when you are done.”

That night after work, Janet giggled and told me that after he had loaded the car, playa BIL, rang the doorbell to tell Janet he was done and as an excuse to meet her and give her a good look. It’s good to know really. He’s 10+ years older than me. Nice to know that at that age I will still be giving Janet a good long look as we celebrate our 11th anniversary!