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Why I Won’t Take a Knee for the Philippines National Anthem

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It wasn’t long after we arrived in Dumaguete. Janet and I decided to go to the mall first thing when it opened at 10:00. Lots of stuff to get to fill our new apartment. We arrived a couple minutes before 10:00. There was a line at the Robinsons Mall entrance.  We parked in the lot and began walking toward the entrance. Suddenly outdoor loudspeakers began blaring music which I vaguely recognized as the Philippines National Anthem. Janet stopped but I kept walking. “Stop,” she yelled.

“Huh?”

“You can’t walk until after the National Anthem.”

“Really?” And then I noticed that other people had stopped.

About 30 seconds later the anthem finished and life continued. People started filing past the guard into the mall. That is the guard searched them and then allowed them into the mall.

In subsequent days I discovered that not only were you not allowed to walk during the anthem, if you were driving into the mall parking lot when the anthem was playing, you had to stop your car.

I saw that most people stood at attention or at least stood in a respectful way. They certainly didn’t dare talk during the anthem. Janet would shush me until I learned not to talk.

All this, while minor, was one more reason the Philippines is just plain different.

We just spent a couple of weeks back in the U.S. One reason was to see my daughter graduate. The ceremony was held in a large arena. As we awaited the ceremony I began to wonder whether, considering the recent controversies, the national anthem would be played. I looked at the program and sure enough the anthem was listed.

Now, I am not the big patriot type nor did I ever serve in the military. But I never thought that spending a minute on the national anthem was a terrible thing.

As the ceremony started and I awaited the National Anthem I wondered how people would react. Would there be any protests or taking of knees?  I’ve been long enough away from the U.S. that I just didn’t know.
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In reality people acted like they always act. The anthem began, led by a choir. People shuffled uncomfortably waiting for it to be over to get to the good stuff. No one objected but no one much joined in. In fact this is the way it’s been for decades in the U.S.

My recollection is that it was different when I was a kid. But once Kennedy was shot and there was a Vietnam War and another Kennedy was shot, as well as Dr. King; well there wasn’t a lot of point in singing patriotically. Plus by then I was a young adult and knew it was all bullshit.

Of course it isn’t all bullshit. Sure, it’s just a minor piece of symbolism but now that I am an old fart I kind of think it matters.  So at the graduation I sang; ok I mostly just moved my lips. After all, nobody else was singing.

Truth is as I have aged I occasionally regret that I wasn’t in the military. Maybe I should have joined the CIA. It’s probably just my latent desire to shoot somebody.

So, I kind of like the fact that Filipinos stand at attention for their anthem and expect me to do the same. There doesn’t seem to be the attitude of “Hey, I didn’t vote for Duterte, so why should I show any respect.”

Some expats think that Filipinos are too patriotic or just blindly follow. I’m not so sure. Is it really so bad to spend a minute showing respect for this country?

Of course I’m not stupid. There’s a guard in front of Robinsons and he’s got a gun and it’s quite possible the gun actually works. So I stand at attention.

 

 

 

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Has the U.S. Changed or Have I?

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Janet and I just returned from a two week whirlwind trip back to the U.S.  and we’re glad to be back home. Yes, I said home because Dumaguete is now home for us, not Portland.  Now, before I get into my standard wiseassed set of remarks about how I found life in the U.S., I should say that we loved seeing our family and friends and therefore don’t want the following to be considered criticism of our loved ones. That said, some of you are nuts 🙂

Here’s what struck me:

Friendliness: Our last flight on our long trip was a short prop plane hop from Seattle to Portland. As we were preparing to land they announced that there were two passengers with very tight connections and would everyone wait in their seats while the two passengers de-planed first. They repeated the request a few minutes later. Well you can guess the result. The moment the plane stopped at the gate half the people were up and in the aisle. Janet and I looked around, I shrugged and said, “Welcome back to the U.S.”

Attractiveness: I clearly have been ruined by the Philippines but most Americans struck me as – well, you know – butt ugly. And yes, I will acknowledge that you can throw me into that category also. Janet and I were in a mall and I sat down to wait for her; maybe 40 minutes. Bored to death I decided to count how many attractive people passed by me. Now, I’m not talking about 10s, or models or porn stars; just ordinarily attractive women or men. In 40 minutes the total was – zero. Ok, there were a couple of cute kids, but that’s it. Plenty of plump girls in undersized halter tops. Plenty of hideous tats and piercings. Plenty of guys holding up their shorts. But not one even vaguely attractive human being. If I sit down in Robinsons in Duma and watch for 40 minutes, small amounts of drool will start pouring down till Janet will feel the need to clean me up; that is after giving me a whack on the head.

Speaking of the malls,  when did they get this boring? On the flip side, the Walmart in Gresham, Oregon wasn’t as bad an experience as I recalled at other Walmarts and I actually (and I am not making this up) bought something there; a nice Kershaw knife. Civilization is coming to an end when Walmart beats the malls.

Weather: Portland weather is not usually the city’s biggest selling point, but my God it was June and several days didn’t break the 50s and most of the days were in the 60s. We did have a couple of nice 80s days, but they were aberrations. By the end I couldn’t wait to get back to Dumaguete heat and humidity. Thank God I can sweat again!

Eating: I was prepared or so I thought. I knew that the restaurant portions are larger than in Duma where let’s face it, restaurants have to feed small people, not gigantic Americans. But after a week we were ready to explode. Now, even in Dumaguete, Janet and I often share an entree; there’s a reason senior portions are smaller; we just can’t eat like we used to. But when we asked to share an entree in Portland we found that two full plates were delivered to us. The food was good of course but I simply could not keep up.

And at our friends’ home (they were kind enough to put us up and put up with me) the excess continued. Gallon ketchup bottles. A jug of mouthwash you could swim in. Now, that I live in a culture in which portions are usually enough for today, it was odd being back in a culture of excess. In the Philippines you can buy a Coke Sakto; Sakto loosely translates to “enough” or “good enough.” So a Coke Sakto is 4 ounces; enough to wet your whistle. In the U.S. 4 ounces is just enough to cause fighting in the streets.

Annual sales of all 3 ED drugs are a revelation for patients who are living with erectile Dysfunction Impotence condition causes strain on cialis discount canada a couple. This will make the users the possibilities of better pennies enlargement, production and ejaculation. cialis tadalafil generic The only mechanism cialis order required by the person is to stimulate the body. So buy levitra online if you’re experiencing erectile dysfunction, don’t be depressed as there are numerous ways to treat them is using natural ayurvedic supplements in the form sex tablets and oils. They’re All Mental: I was prepared but not really. Prepared because I knew how bad it had gotten before I left. That said I don’t watch what passes for the news in the U.S., avoid it all on FB and the other social media. I’d say I’m not interested in debate but the truth is I love debate. But none of what passes for political discourse in the United States could be called debate.

I tried everything to avoid. My go to strategy is usually to nod my head and ignore the conversation. Didn’t work. I’d try to change the subject. “Looks like cold and rain today,” I’d say. “Trump’s screwing with the weather,” would be the answer.

I even tried telling the truth. “You know I’m retired in the Philippines and don’t listen to the news much.” Or even more truth. “You know I’m retired in the Philippines so as long as my Social Security check clears, I don’t care.” Nothing worked.

In the end, I have my opinions, none of which have anything to do with politics but more with the stress and mental illness in my home country. While getting away from that is not the reason we moved to the Philippines it is a side benefit of the move.

All that said, I like my friends, love my loved ones, and will listen as long as they want to talk to me; of course as I listened I thought of getting back to my tropical paradise where right now I am happily de-stressing.

 

 

 

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Apparently “Mommy” and “Daddy” Are Rich

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As I have mentioned before, Janet comes from a large family of 10 children. Now that they all know me pretty well they each have their own names for me. Some call me “Kuya,” which means Uncle. Some skip the translation and just call me “Uncle” directly. And some call me “Daddy” or “Daddy Dave.”

Janet’s nomenclature is a bit more consistent. Everyone in the family either calls her “Mommy” or “Yaya”. Now “Yaya” should not be confused with the “Yaya” that means a child’s caregiver. It’s pretty common in the Philippines for parents to have a “Yaya” to care for the kid(s). But Janet’s “Yaya” is a term of respect. Now apparently they are pronounced differently. Janet and her siblings have tried to show me how “Yaya” sounds different from “Yaya” but honestly I can’t hear the difference.

But here’s where it all gets even stickier. I asked Janet the other day why all the various nicknames. She explained that “Mommy” and “Daddy” usually mean that the person is rich, which is why some of the kids call us that. “Momma” and “Papa” mean that the person is sort of ordinary and the traditional “Nanay” and “Tatay” mean – you ain’t getting much from them.

This confused me more. “Lots of people call your parents Mommy and Daddy and they’re certainly not rich.” Janet ran through what each kid seems to call the parents. I heard no rhyme or reason and Janet admitted that there was little consistency but still insisted that I’m “Daddy Dave” since I’m rich.
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Hey, I’ve been called a lot worse in life!

Correction!: “Kuya” means Big Brother, not uncle. That certainly makes it all less confusing 🙂

 

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Find Yourself A “Jo Jo” – Skilled Labor in the Philippines

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I’ve told the story before. When we moved into our house in Valencia, the toilet in the master bedroom smelled. It worked perfectly fine, but to quote Willie in one of my fave Xmas films, Bad Santa, it “smelled like a bum’s nut sack.”

Our landlord knew a guy and within an hour or two “Jo Jo” arrived to take a look. He said it was probably a bad seal and while he could start replacing seals and hope to find the issue, we’d probably be best off just replacing the toilet. The landlord was willing to pay for the new toilet, if we paid for the labor; that is the landlord was willing for me to buy the toilet and deduct the price from next month’s rent. I agreed.

A new toilet was purchased and Jo Jo, with the assistance of our next door neighbor, went to work. Now I have replaced a toilet or two in the US with mixed results. This time I was happy to have someone else do it. I will admit that at 65, schlepping around a new toilet has lost some of its charm. A couple hours later Jo Jo  was done and announced he would check the work the next day after the caulk had dried.

I contacted a couple expat friends and asked for a recommended price, since as is typical in the Philippines, Jo Jo would not name his price; “Whatever you wish to pay, Sir,” was his response to the question. My friends recommended 300-400 pesos (about $6-$8).

When the work was done I gave Jo Jo 300P and my neighbor 100P to help. My neighbor was reluctant to take any money but I insisted. In addition, Janet provided the workers with a “snack” – typical in the Philippines.

A month or two later we had a couple of minor electrical problems. The last thing I really wanted to do was deal with electrical problems in the Philippines; I mean it’s 220 voltage and I am clueless. But I procrastinated. A couple of the issues were 13 feet up and I have enough trouble on the ground nowadays. Finally I suggested to Janet, “Let’s see if Jo Jo can do it?” Janet texted him and he said he could come over the next morning. I took that as a sign he was happy for the work and the amount I had paid him the last time had been adequate. He came over and we had him fix 3 or 4 minor issues. Took him an hour at most. I handed him 300P and he went away happy.

Ever since we moved into the house the water pressure has been poor. Now, a lot of this is the water service in Valencia which isn’t very good. Of course our water bill averages about $1/month so I guess this comes under the category of, you get what you pay for.

But I had noticed that some faucets flowed well and others did not, which with my very limited plumbing knowledge told me that there might be clogs in some pipes. In particular, our bedroom shower had gone down to a trickle. “Let’s call Jo Jo,” I suggested authoritatively. He told Janet he could be there 7:30 the next morning. The next morning was a Sunday so this confirmed that I had been paying him well enough.
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He showed up at 7:30 on the nose and went to work. The main line had plenty of water so that wasn’t the issue. So he checked all the house lines. As I expected many of them had clogs and corrosion. Unlike in the US where a plumber would recommend thousands of dollars worth of replaced pipes and hardware, he cleaned the problem areas and within an hour we had decent water flow. I happily handed him 300P. A busy guy, he passed on the snack. I took the best shower I’ve had in a month!

The point of all this isn’t just that labor is inexpensive in the Philippines; that’s a given. It’s just that your thinking begins to change.

In the U.S., Home Depot and Lowes make billions. is this because guys love to spend their weekends replacing toilets? I doubt it. It’s because over the last generation or two the cost of calling a professional is beyond the budget of the average American.

Some guys reluctantly pay the pros. Others reluctantly give Home Depot their money and try to complete their Honey Do list. And still others find workarounds for problems and just plain procrastinate. While I have done all three strategies when I owned an older home in the U.S., procrastination was my favorite.

In the Philippines, those hard choices are unnecessary. Someone will happily help you with your home problems, fix your flat tire, clean your house, take care of your kids, etc. And the cost by Western standards is modest. Car wash? I have it done regularly, both inside and out. I never paid for the inside detail service in the U.S.; it’s too damn expensive. My haircut with tip costs about $1.

My point is, you’re giving people work that they are happy to have and the cost is very affordable. So there’s not much of a need to procrastinate. What am I gonna do with my time, now that I have no reason to piss it away?

 

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Shopping Tips (Half-Baked) in the Philippines

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Now that I have lived in the Philippines for a grand total of nine months I thought I would tackle the prickly problem of shopping in the Philippines, getting the stuff you want, preferably at a decent price. Now, I am a guy so my notion of shopping is not the same as Janet’s. By all means let’s ask her to write her own take on shopping here in the Philippines. I mean I have no idea where to buy the best shoes here but since this is the Philippines, I am sure there are many places.

Typically guys are interested in food, tools and guy stuff so that’s what I’ll focus on.

Tip #1: “Get it while you can!” If you see an item in a store that you want or that you know you’re going to need or even vaguely might need within the next decade – buy it – now. There’s no guarantee it’ll be there in a month. In fact if it’s an unusual item I can practically guarantee it won’t be there in a month. I have learned this lesson the hard way – over and over. I was in my local hardware store and saw  bar clamps. Now every woodworker knows you can’t have enough clamps, so I made a mental note. Well you guessed it; a month later when I went to buy a couple bar clamps they were gone. I’ve had the same experience multiple times. There’s no sense asking store personnel when they will get more. They will just say, “We’re out of stock, Sir.” “When will you have more?” Get real; they have no idea. Their job is to sell what’s in the store not what’s not in the store.

So listen to Grace Slick and – “Get it while you can.”

Tip #2: Pay it! As a corollary to Tip #1 – just pay the money. In the US when I saw something I wanted, I would go home, check online to see if I could get a better price somewhere, call a couple stores to make sure it was in stock, etc. Don’t do that here in the Philippines because if you do by the time you get it together to go back to the store, the item in question will be – repeat after me – “out of stock!”

Tip #3: Don’t get too excited when you find something you like in stock. The first week we were in Dumaguete we went to Robinsons Supermarket for our first major grocery run. I took the opportunity to go up and down every aisle, trying to get the lay of the land. I spied something in the refrigerated area and called to Janet. “They have Philly cream cheese here!” I was shocked and delighted. I have been a Philly fan since I was a kid and it was the only cream cheese I put on my bagels for 60 years. Now, I had no idea if I could get any kind of bagel in Dumaguete, but I bought a container of Philly and went home with a smile on my face.

Eventually I did find a bakery with at least passable bagels and made consistent runs there. Within a couple months I ran out of my Philly cream cheese. “No worries,” I told Janet. “I’ll get more the next time we go to Robinsons.” Ah, when will I learn? No Philly to be found in Robinsons, “out of stock” and who knows when it will return.

The moral? Buy an extra tub of cream cheese!

Tip #4: Patronize your favorite places and buy out the store. Speaking of the bagel place I found, it’s a nice bakery and once or twice a month I run down there. At first I bought a bagel or two cause that was my routine back in the US. I’m slow but learning. Yesterday I stopped in and asked “How many plain bagels do you have?” I’m just a simple kano, so plain is my favorite. “Five, Sir.” “I’ll take them all!” I announced. Janet was out of town yesterday and when she called to check on me she asked, “What did you have for lunch.” I was too embarrassed to tell her I’d feasted on bagels and non-Philly cream cheese all day, so I just said, “I made a sandwich.”

Tip #5: Ask around. Now while it’s true that often store clerks don’t have a clue sometimes if you ask, “Do you know where I can get X?” they will in fact tell you exactly where you can get it. The same with your neighbors or relatives. My neighbors seem genuinely happy to help the poor hapless kano, who clearly doesn’t know his ass from Tuesday. Also ask your other expat friends. They might know where to get stuff. This works best if you’re asking about beer.
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Tip #6: Go online. While they are not Amazon, I have had good success so far with both Lazada and Aliexpress. Now, they are unlikely to have Western brands, unless the brand is distributed in Asia. Prices can be all over the map, especially if a Lazada item is International; that may mean it is actually being shipped from the US, and you’re going to pay big time. But since so much is Chinese-made now anyway, you can find lots on these two sites.

Tip #7: Ship it from the US. If the item is light weight and not too expensive it might be worth it to have it shipped to you. As a guitar player I like several high end brands of strings. Not only can I not get those strings in a store in the Philippines, I could not get them in a music store in Portland. I found that my two favorite string etailers were happy to ship to me in the Philippines and the basic USPS shipping charge wasn’t much more than shipping in the US. The only down side is that it took about a month to get to me. Also PhilPost charges 112 pesos (a hair over $2) for customs charges for international orders. What’s weird about this charge is whether the item is a $5 item or a $500 item, they still charge the same 112 pesos.

Tip#8: Send yourself a balikbayan box. I know lots of expats who buy items, have them sent to a relative or friend and fill up a balikbayan box. The shipping of a BB box is a flat rate and cheap. I have a Filipino woodworking online friend here. When I saw pics of his workbench I gasped because I recognized that he was using a very high end, expensive, drool worthy bench vise. I got excited “Are they distributed in Asia?” “No – I got it from the US.” I’m thinking, ‘The shipping must have cost a fortune.’ But he added, “My brother sent it to me.” Ahhh!

So consider the BB box strategy.

Tip #9: Broaden your pallet. If you are the type that needs all your Western food items, your grocery budget might get expensive. Many of those items can be found here but you’re gonna spend anywhere from a little bit more to a  lot more. Fortunately for me, there are very few things (other than Philly cream cheese) that I am picky about. I don’t care if it’s Heinz ketchup as long as it’s red. I don’t need Grey Poupon (and yes, you can get it here). There are several stores that cater to expats and sell foreigner food at foreigner prices. I am happy those places exist but rarely go. So find substitutes. Do you really need that Australian steak? Learn to love pork and chicken!

OTOH, about a month ago I was in Hypermart (the other major grocery store here in Dumaguete) and was shocked to see a gallon jug of Martinellis apple cider. It’s been my fave for 40+ years. Even back in the US it was expensive and I only got it as an occasional treat. Treetop was good enough for my thirsty kids.

Anyway, I looked at the price on the jug – 400 pesos, which is almost $8. My darling wife said, “It’s your favorite. Treat yourself!” And so, remembering Tip #1,  I did.

 

 

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A Tale of Three Lawyers

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A couple of years ago I wrote a blog piece entitled, A Tale of Two Pigs. Now, I don’t want to make a comparison between lawyers and pigs – that’s not my point – well, not entirely. But still A Take of Three Lawyers seemed like a good title.

Janet has wanted to buy a lot for her parents to build a simple house on for as long as I have known her. The story of how she socked away the cash and found the lot is a good one, but one for another posting. This one is about the legal system in the Philippines; or at least about three lawyers we sort of employed.

Seven months ago she found the lot and made an offer which was accepted quickly. Easy, right? Hmm – not quite. The seller provided her with some, though not all, the required documentation. I knew enough about the Philippines to know that a lawyer was a good idea to review the documents. I asked around, got a recommendation and contacted the Attorney via Facebook, which is where most lawyers apparently conduct their business here. He asked me to send the documents as attachments on FB Messenger. I offered to email him real, honest to God, Word documents, but somehow he couldn’t handle that. Nonetheless, he reviewed the documents, made some recommendations which sounded lawyer-like and we told him (via Facebook) that when the time came we would contact him about creating a final contract and deed of sale. I never received a bill or request for money, nor even an idea of what his services cost; in fact I never heard from him again. This is not totally unheard of in the Philippines, but still by US standards, where entering an attorney’s office and breathing the air required payment, it struck me as odd. Janet and I discussed the situation several times over the next couple months. Certainly I figured I would get billed at the end of the month or contacted in some manner. It never happened.

Months went by. The seller was dragging his feet. The documents he still owned Janet were coming in slowly. The seller was complaining because other people he had sold property to had not required legal irrelevancies such as the title to the property or proof that he’d paid his property taxes. We were being unreasonable but still he agreed and one by one he gradually sent us the documents.

In the meantime, Janet was working on reacquiring her Philippines citizenship. It required her to get a document notarized. It was the beginning of January and we stopped by several lawyers’ offices (most notaries seem to be attorneys here) only to be told that the lawyer in question was not currently licensed to be a notary since it was the beginning of the year and he hadn’t gotten around to being relicensed for the year. If only we could come back in a week or two they’d be good to go.

Finally in frustration, we discovered that the City of Dumaguete actually provided inexpensive notary service at City Hall. We went there, met with a young attorney who recommended we change our document. She was fast and inexpensive. Janet liked her and decided that if the real estate deal ever went threw she’d like to use this lawyer to do the paperwork.

While there still remained several fits and starts and lots of drama, we were getting closer to having everything done. We went to see the young lawyer in her home office to draft a deed of sale with a couple contractual clauses Janet wanted. At the end of the conversation I asked the lawyer how much the work would cost. “Whatever you think is fair, Sir.” I had heard this type of phrase before when dealing with service providers in the Philippines but still I was surprised to hear it from a lawyer. “I have no idea of what legal services cost in the Philippines, so it would be great if you could give us an idea,” I responded. Actually I did have an idea of what legal fees cost in the Philippines; at least I knew what the other lawyer had charged us – nothing. Finally she agreed that she would think about it and let us know when we came to get the documents.

The next week we returned to pick up the documents. There was some talk as to whether Janet should sign the documents right then and there since our young attorney was also a notary. But she recommended that Janet sign at the same time and place as the seller. She thought that was safest and we agreed. In the end she quoted a price for her services which seemed reasonable, we paid it and happily left, confident that we now knew a trustworthy, competent lawyer in Dumaguete.

The next day we traveled to Southern Cebu to meet with the seller. He knew an attorney/notary, perhaps the only one in the area, that we could go to and sign the documents.
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The lawyer began to review the documents. This surprised me. OK, actually it annoyed me. We were there to get the documents notarized, not reviewed. I began to fear that this guy was going to charge us for legal services not just the notary services we wanted. In the end he recommended a relatively minor change to the document, and went into his office to handwrite the change.

We waited and waited but finally the signings happened, the docs were notarized and the lawyer returned with the final work in hand, a look of triumph on his face. I asked how much we owned him. He quoted a figure. “What!” I said. “For notary services?”

“You’re charged a percentage of the value of the property,” he explained, though I didn’t buy it.

“You didn’t create the deed or contact and in fact the lawyer who did, charged us less to do all the work that you are charging us.”

I sat and stewed while Janet and the seller determined who got what and who would do what now. I knew that by American legal standards the amount was chump change, but I felt like an idiot. Why didn’t I ask him right away what the charge would be? The answer to that was that based on my previous experiences with the first two lawyers, I wasn’t going to get a definite answer anyway.

I stewed some more. Could this be the famed “long nose tax” that so many expats complain about? Maybe. More likely, I thought the seller had taken us to a friend to soak us, and quite possibly get a piece of the pie for himself.

I calmed down, paid the guy, and took Janet, her mother and a brother and sister to 7-11 for ice cream and a San Miguel for me.

The ice cream tasted great in the hot sun. The San Miguel went down really well. And then I reminded myself that we had paid a grand total $105 for the services of three lawyers. So, life can’t be all that bad.

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The Return Flight From Hell

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Janet and I had just spent a delightful vacation week in Krabi, Thailand with our friends Pete and Cathy. We had a great vacation but were ready to return home to the Philippines.

Now vacation is a bit of a misnomer because let’s face it – we’re on permanent vacation. Let’s call it a vacation from our vacation.

From Krabi we had a layover in Singapore before our flight to Cebu. I promised Janet a nice dinner because after all, the Singapore Airport had to be like the country itself – rich and modern.

The Krabi Airport was neither rich nor modern. We wanted lunch and there were two restaurants. One had almost nothing to sell and the other one was a Subway, which made me happier than Janet.

The gate area at Krabi Airport makes the average bus terminal look sophisticated. So much noise that it was impossible to determine what the announcements over the intercom were saying. Nonetheless we finally got on the plane and took off. The flight was a bit late, meaning that our 2 1/2 hour layover was down to 2 hours; still plenty of time for a meal and exploring the Singapore Airport, or so I thought.

Like most international transfers, we were forced to first go through a security search; no problem – we’re used to it. The airport, as expected, was beautiful and modern but signage was lacking and we could not figure out where our flight was. I had promised Janet that nice meal, as soon as we found our gate. It took me 10 minutes to find a modern machine which scanned my ticket and told me where the flight would be; Terminal 4. We followed the signs to Terminal 4; it was at least a 10 minute trek. Now we approached the turn leading to the terminal and two employees stopped us.

“You must go through Immigration before you can go to the gate,” one told me.

“Why? We’re not coming into the country – we’re just transferring flights.” He was adamant. “OK, where is immigration?” I asked. Let’s just say it wasn’t close by.

The line at immigration was long and we were still questioning why we have to go through Immigration at all. Janet asked an employee whether we have to go through Immigration and is told that no we don’t. We leave the line and go back toward the gate – another 10 minute trek. As we approach, the two men again stop us. For seven months in the Philippines I have managed not to lose my temper despite a 3rd world infrastructure. But here in beautiful, modern, 1st world Singapore I am losing it. “We were just told we didn’t have to go through Immigration! ”

“Yes, you do,” the guy said and handed us a sheet of instructions on what to do for an Air Asia flight. As we storm off heading back to Immigration, I heard him say, “We value your input.” The last thing he wants to hear is my input.

Back in the line at Immigration. It moved quicker than expected but now I am trying to figure out what time it is in Singapore and how long we have until the flight. I explained to the Immigration Officer that we were told that we had to go through Immigration. He looks at me like I am crazy, shrugs and starts to process me. “How long will you be staying in Singapore?” he asks. I know better than to lose it with an Immigration Officer but I did chuckle.

Back upstairs, passed our two friends and outside to get a bus to Terminal 4. We all crammed onto the bus, but hey it’s modern. Frankly by this point I’d rather be on a Jeepney in Manila. Another 10 minutes.

According to the instructions we were handed we had to go through Air Asia’s document control, despite the fact we already had our boarding passes. At least 10 minutes. Finally the lady says “You don’t have to be here. See it says on your boarding passes, ‘Go directly to the Gate.’ Apparently in Singapore their concept of going directly to the gate is different from mine.

To no surprise there was no way to go directly to the gate. You had to go through machines and scan your boarding pass. After scanning my pass the machine said “Go to Immigration.” Now I’m ready to lose it. I find a guard who looks at our boarding passes and lets us through.

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At least a 10 minute jog to the actual gate. We had made it but had blown all our time; no dinner for Janet; a muffin would have to suffice and a promise of whatever food was on the plane.

After boarding the plane and getting ready for the flight – suddenly the lights went off. No big deal; it had happened to me before, but Janet was scared. They came back on in a minute. No one seemed concerned that there was no announcement from the cockpit.

A few minutes later the lights went off again. Now we saw ground crew come on and enter the cockpit. Not a reassuring sign.

Again the lights come back on and we try to relax. But yet again the lights go out and this time stay out for about 10 minutes. Janet is worried and I am assuming that soon we will hear an announcement that the plane has a problem and we have to get off. Janet said that she was sure they had another plane for us. I told her that that was highly unlikely.

Surprisingly the flight attendant announced we would soon be departing. I was still waiting for an announcement of what occurred but it didn’t come. Janet went up and asked the flight attendant. He tells her something about the engine not powered and since there was no power the captain could not use the intercom and speak to us. Engine problems is not what you want to hear when you are about to take off.

People are nervous and a 30ish woman leans past her husband and asks me if this is “normal.” Apparently I look like a wise old world traveler, which I sort of am. “No,” I said. “Not normal in my experience.”

The flight attendant passes and I asked for an explanation. He said something like they were rebooting the system. Now as a former Software Engineer this should be reassuring but rebooting the engine did not sound so good to me.

Getting ready to taxi Janet asked me to pray. This did not sound like a bad idea to me. As a Buddhist, I chant – so that’s what I did, under my breath.

From that point onward the flight was uneventful. There were no meals to speak of but I wasn’t very hungry anyway.

For the last few days Janet has hugged me alot and proclaimed it was nice to be alive. Yep, it’s nice to be alive and even nicer not to be in the Singapore Airport!

 

 

 

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Rude Foreigners

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So we’re sitting in the USSC store in Robinsons Mall waiting to get served. We filled out a little form and got a number. Yes, in the Philippines there are still places that you “take a number.” Turns out our number was to be the last one called before the employees took their lunch hour. USSC must be rare because a lunch hour is almost never an hour in the Philippines.

Several people walked in afterwards and were politely informed that there would be no more service until after lunch. Then an elderly (defined as older than me) foreigner walked in, was politely informed of the upcoming lunch break. He got pissed off, yelled, threw out an F-bomb and stormed off. There was no reason for the tantrum. He was treated politely and told he could come back after the break.

This is behavior that Janet and I witness pretty regularly in Dumaguete and most of the time the offender is a foreigner.

Now as it turns out that while Janet and I were the last to be served before the break and therefore the office was empty by the time it was our turn, we were missing a crucial document to finalize our business and were told if we brought it in that day, we would be served right away without needing a number or waiting.

We returned a couple hours later. In the interim we had talked about the rude foreigner. As the USSC Clerk was finalizing Janet’s business I decided to ask a question or two. “Do you often have rude foreigners?” I asked. She smiled at me. “Only one today, Sir.” I laughed. “Well I know who that was. His behavior was ridiculous.”

“If he comes back, I will of course treat him respectfully,” she said. “But he did say the f-word.” She and the other clerk had heard and would not be forgetting. Clearly she considered it part of the job, but it also stung the employees there.

A few week ago we were in the bank. Simultaneously there were two rude foreigners. One cut ahead in line since his concern had to be handled immediately. It wasn’t. He stormed off, returned about five minutes later to vent again at someone else.

In the meantime another elderly (aka, older than me) foreigner was sitting next to me making a request of the banker that would never be granted in any bank in the Western world. When he was politely informed what would be required to meet his request, he grumbled, cursed under his breath about the lousy country and terrible customer service.

We observe behavior like this a couple times a week at least. It saddens me for what I realize is a foolish reason; that it reflects badly on me. It doesn’t of course but I feel like it does.

Now going back to the experience at USSC, while conversing with the Clerk about rude foreigners, she admitted she was worried that I was going to react similarly when she told us we would have to come back to finalize our business. I laughed but felt bad. “Of course I wasn’t mad. Now my wife? That’s another matter.” Janet playfully hit me.

My life wasn’t over after all! To my surprise there were plenty of http://cute-n-tiny.com/tag/mac/ online cialis treatment options at my disposal. It is generally advised that you do not have to go out and run a marathon either. online levitra prescription Plus, buying generic viagra smoking can purpose several health problems consisting of heart disorder, high blood strain, low testosterone, and so on. bad lifestyle has already a toll at the sexual fitness of millions of men. In the old age, men used to suffer from ailments like weak immune system, low sex drive, low semen volume or no semen at all and then order generic viagra inevitably it moved on to not being able to prevent or slow its growth is attractive. In the car on the way home Janet and I once again talked about this. Now the point isn’t that Filipinos never get mad or never behave rudely – of course they do. But the rude behavior from a minority population (the foreigners) is hard to ignore.

For over two years in the US Janet worked in a supermarket. She had rude customers every day. It was a big part of her indoctrination into life in America. She quickly learned to give it back as much as take it. My wife is sweet as can be, but has a quick tongue when mistreated.

So why we asked ourselves did this all bother us so much; we both were used to it in the US. And that I suppose was the answer. In the US witnessing or being confronted by rude  people is a daily event and we realized that here in the Philippines while it does happen, it’s uncommon enough to be more noticeable.

One more story, not that I am trying to prove anything. Early that evening we went into the grocery store. The cashier is ringing up our items. The Filipina behind us in the line asked “where’s the divider” – the bars you put to keep your items separate from someone else’s. In my modest experience, most stores in the Philippines do not have these dividers. The clerk looked at her with that deer in the headlights look. “There are no dividers,” I said. The lady huffed.

I handed the clerk my debit card – my debit card from our Philippines bank account. Now debit cards here are not quite as reliable as in the US. Sometimes it goes through, sometimes it doesn’t and sometimes the clerk has to put it through as a credit instead of a debit, and sometimes you’re just best off having cash.

The woman behind me spoke up in perfect English. “You have to select credit for a foreign debit card,” she announced. I turned to her and politely said, “It’s not a foreign debit card.” The clerk continued to struggle with my card. The woman behind me announced again, because clearly the clerk was too stupid to have understood, ” You have to select credit for a foreign debit card.” I turned back to face her again but less politely and repeated, “It’s not a foreign debit card.”

The clerk continued to struggle with my card and mumble apologies. And once again the woman stated her view, “You have to select credit for a foreign debit card.” I finally got it. The woman may have once been a Filipina but she was clearly now an American. I glared at her and snarled, “It’s – not – a – foreign – debit – card!” Janet calmed me down. “Just pay cash,” which I did.

So you see, it’s not just foreigners who are rude in the Philippines. It’s Fil-Ams too 🙂

PS: Based on further thought and a few of the comments I have received I wanted to add something. Now this may be splitting hairs, but here goes. I think there is a difference between inconvenient/ annoying behavior and rude behavior. You’re driving down the road. A little old lady is slowly crossing the street and you have to stop and wait. It’s annoying. You drum your fingers along the steering wheel. But she’s not doing it to personally harm or offend you. OTOH, if you stick your head out the window and yell, “Hey old lady, get the “f-word” out of the damn street,” – well that’s rude behavior.

 

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Making Friends in the Philippines

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Now that I’ve live in Dumaguete for about 6 months, I can’t help but look at my life and realize I don’t know too many people here. Some of it is logistics; we spent the first few months getting settled, finding a rental house, filling the house with stuff, buying a car, etc.

But the truth be told, I am just not that social a person. When married in the past, somehow most of my single friends faded and I developed married friends, aka friends of the wife 🙂 Divorce happens, and the friends stayed with her 🙂

When I was divorced I was too busy raising kids and futilely trying to date. So the last thing I worried about was guys to hang out with.

When I married Janet, I was more concerned that she meet people she could befriend and we ended up as part of a large community of Fil-Am couples. While I thought I was doing it just for Janet, one day I woke up to discover that I actually had a bunch of new friends, several of whom I actually liked!

Here in the Philippines, while making friends hasn’t been a top priority, it has been on my mind. Drinking buddies aren’t hard to find here and I actually have a nice group of guys I meet with once a month to share  a beer or two (OK, more for some) and swap stories and problems. There are several popular hangouts for expats in Dumaguete, and you can go to those places at nearly any time of the day or night and find guys drinking and talking in a variety of languages. But I never was a bar guy and don’t intend to become one in my dotage. Now I am sure many of these guys are good people, but if you’re slamming San Miguels at 10:00 AM you might not be my type and at 10:00 PM I’m probably in bed, so I’m not your type.

Also I’m married, so creating couples friends is as important or more important that making individual friends. Janet and I have gone out with other couples on occasion; sometimes there’s a connection -sometimes not. The juries still out.
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Then there was my stated intention before I moved here that I wanted to have Filipino friends; maybe even more Filipino than expat friends, I thought. It still hasn’t happened but then I am barely social with people who speak my own language. Oh, people in my neighborhood are friendly and say hello when I am out and about walking, but I haven’t yet converted that into anything more. Perhaps I should start hanging out at the local Sari Sari and share a beer. I say this seriously; I know several guys who do this. Ultimately it’s clear that this sort of effort is on me. Despite their friendly nature, Filipinos are shy around foreigners and so if I really want friends I will have to make the effort.

And then there’s the family. Janet has a large one and we see them often. I do consider them friends but there’s a language barrier, a cultural barrier – and yes, an economic barrier.

Now, none of this is coming from a place of loneliness or sadness. I have tons to do and never get bored. And let’s not forget I have a very cute wife 🙂 Next week we’re meeting some U.S. friends and that should be fun and we have a ton of other American friends who know there is a guest room if and when they come to the Philippines. But still it would be nice to expand the friendship base to a few more people here.

BTW, I don’t have my normal photo that’s relevant to this blog piece displayed at the top, because when I searched Google for “Philippines expats” it mostly showed images of people I know 🙂

 

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Philippines 3rd Happiest Country in the World

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So Janet and I are in the bank January 3rd conducting some business, which meant a little waiting. There are two foreigners in the bank getting more and more upset. One is pushing though the line demanding that his issue be taken care of. The other’s an old codger (that is an even older codger than me) sitting next to me. He’s mumbling under his breath what a rotten place this is. But I can hear his request and it’s never gonna happen and wouldn’t happen in the US either.

At the same time I’m reading the paper and come across this article: http://beta.philstar.com/headlines/2018/01/03/1774178/philippines-3rd-happiest-country-poll

Once again the Philippines is ranked among the highest countries in the world for general happiness. Of course there is nothing objective about the poll; nothing quantifiable. They simple ask people all over the world the question, “In general, do you personally feel very happy, happy, neither happy nor unhappy, unhappy or very unhappy about your life?”

Fiji once again was the happiest country. I too would be pretty damn happy in Fiji – who wouldn’t. At number two was Colombia. I’m sure there’s a joke here about happiness and cocaine intake; but I’m not gonna go there. And of course the Philippines was 3rd. Last year we were tied for 2nd with China, which this year dropped off the top ten completely. Not a good year for the Chinese economy, I suppose.

If you look at the list of the top ten there was only one 1st world country listed: The Netherlands. There’s a drug joke there too, but again – I’m not gonna go there.

The other countries in the top ten were 3rd world havens like Mexico (happy about Trump’s Wall, perhaps), Vietnam; Kazakhstan (Borat sure was happy), Papua New Guinea, Indonesia (love to go there); India (in no rush to go there), Argentina (proving that a collapsing economy has little to do with happiness). There’s a pattern here: poor places or places with a lot of dope seem pretty damn happy.

Of course poverty is not the only criteria for happiness. I mean, Iran was dead last and it’s poor as shit. Last year Iraq was the least happy. Now it’s 2nd from the bottom. Apparently cataclysmic wars are not good for general happiness; who knew.

Overall Latin America was the happiest continent. The US and Russia were literally tied with a score of +50; just one more proof of collusion between Trump and Putin 🙂
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So what can we conclude? Is it merely the old adage that money cannot buy happiness? I’m sure that’s part of it but it has to be more.

I just spent the holidays in Janet’s hometown of Alcoy, Cebu. The level of poverty there (as in many places in the Philippines) is beyond the experience or comprehension of the average American. And yet the people there rang in Christmas and New Years with joy and laughter. Janet’s siblings traveled from other cities to be there with the family. Again I have no real conclusions. In the US the holidays are blamed for misery, depression and an increase in suicides. In the Philippines; well there’s an increase in people who shoot off various body parts with fireworks; but other than that everyone seems pretty damn happy.

I may not understand their happiness but I’m doing my best to share in it. My wish for the New Year is that everyone do the same!