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The Bathtub Saga

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I just posted a picture of a completed and functioning bathtub in the house that we are building , jets and all, and there were enough oohs and ahs that it was time to tell the complete and bizarre story.

There were only a few things I had to have in our new house; two really. One was a separate shop which is heading toward completion and the other was a bathtub. I have always liked bathtubs and had one in most of the places I owned or rented over the years, but none of the places we have lived here in the Philippines had one and I deeply missed it. Also, as age is creeping in, I find my desire to simply lay in warm water has increased exponentially. At my age it’s better than almost anything. In fact when I go to a pool or into the ocean here I rarely bother to swim; mostly I lay or sit with a smile on my face.

In short the tub was pretty damn important. Before Janet and I started building our house we saw a nice modern bathtub in Citi Hardware that we both liked and wanted. Coincidentally when our contractor presented us with sketches of the proposed house the master bathroom sketch included that very same tub. So we agreed that was the tub for us; one less thing to worry about. Yeah, right!

Three months after the house construction started we were in Citi Hardware and I noticed that particular tub was not on display. We asked the salesman and were told that not only were they out of that model, no Citi Hardware in the country had one left and they had no idea when or if they would get more.

We were annoyed and the salesman went off to confirm what he’d told us. I went around the corner and saw the same tub made by the same manufacture. The only difference was it had jets and was only a tiny bit more expensive. I had no interest in jets but what the hell. We messaged our contractor. A couple hours later he messaged back that he had ordered the tub.

Of course I was dumb and naive at that time. I still thought like an American and assumed “ordered” meant that it had been paid for or a deposit put down or something like that. Um, not quite.

A few weeks later I got another message from the contractor, “The tub is in.” Great, I thought.

Two weeks later we were again in Citi Hardware looking for other items and I happened to see a tub in its box sitting on the floor of the bathtub area. I said proudly to the salesman who was helping us, “I think that is my tub!” He replied, “The tub has not been paid for, Sir, and has been here for two weeks. If it’s not paid for soon, it might get sold to someone else.”

Hearing this Janet and I were pissed at our contractor. While I was tempted to just buy the tub right then, I thought (naive moron that I was) that I should make the contractor do it; that was his responsibility. He acknowledged that he didn’t have the cash. We met him an hour later, gave him the cash with the instructions to get it done! Later that afternoon I got the bad news. “The tub has been sold and there are no more to be bought at any Citi Hardware!” I was furious and ranted and raved. I went online and started looking for comparable tubs. Oh did I mention the real problem? They had already cut the hole in the concrete for the tub pipes so I needed a tub with the dimensions and set up of the one we’d lost.

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Janet tried to calm me down. “Let’s go to Citi tomorrow and see if there is anything else we can find out.”

The next morning we went to Citi Hardware. As we entered the warehouse-style store, the salesman we’d been dealing with saw us and immediately turned ashen. He apologised profusely, explaining that another salesman had sold the tub. I told him, “I understand. It was my contractor’s fault for not buying the tub and you told me that it could get sold. Can you contact the vendor and see if any more might be coming?” He went off to do that and Janet and I stood in the bathtub section wondering what to do. I walked around the corner and came face to face with the display model of the tub that we had lost, the very tub I was told was not available anywhere in the Philippines. “Janettttt,” I yelled. We examined the tub for cracks and imperfections.

The salesman returned and I pointed to the tub. “What’s wrong with this one?” “Nothing, Sir.” “Does it have its motor and jets?” “Yes Sir. It’s brand new. It’s only been out for display for a little while.” “Then why can’t I buy this one?” I asked trying to remain patient. “You can, Sir.” “Well then why…” I ran out of words.

Janet took over. “So what discount will you give us for a display model?” The salesman went to check and then told us 5%. “So how will you prove to us that the tub is in perfect working order?” I asked. No problem. They took it outside the store, filled it with water, plugged it in and showed me that the jets worked.

I called my contractor with the news. “I will come over in a couple of hours and pay for it,” he said. “No way,” I said. “I’m paying for it now.”

This is how easy it is to get a tub with jets in the Philippines!

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Dave’s Not Here. How the Philippines Changed My Name Back to David.

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I always hated my name. Not sure why but I thought my friends Mark, Lee and Eric (called Ricky) had cooler names. Mostly it must have been the fact that when my mother was mad at me I heard that “Daaaviddd.” Hated it.

At 17 I went off to college where all young people re-invent themselves. I introduced myself to everyone as Dave and from then on that’s what I was. I told the family – eventually – and some of them made the switch – though others never could.

At 32 I got married to wife #1. She liked David and insisted on calling me that. I was in love (or maybe just horny) and let her. Six years later we got divorced and I determined never to be called David again. Wife #2 admitted she actually preferred David but knew better than to call me that. My darling Janet always called me Dave.

Segway 32 years. I am 64 and retired in the Philippines. I go into Robinsons and make a purchase in the department store. “What is your name, Sir?” I am asked for the sake of the receipt. “Dave,” I respond. “Steve?” “No, Dave.” “OK, Steve. “No Dave. You know like ‘Dave’s not here.'” Stares of incomprehension.

The next day I am at Citi Hardware. Same thing. “Can I get your name for the receipt, Sir.” Same confusion. OK, the clerks are cute so I give them a break, but it’s annoying.

Everywhere in the Philippines I am asked for my name. This is interesting coming from a culture in which anonymity is so prized.

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After at least a dozen of these episodes I respond, “Dave. You know like David.” “Ah, Sir David! Yes.” Success of sorts.

For a couple more months I continued to explain that Dave was from David. Finally I got tired of it.

“Sir, what’s your name for our records?” “David,” I mumbled. “Thank you, Sir David.”

From then on I figured what the hell and answered to David. If you’ve lived in the Philippines for any length of time you learn that you are not going to change the Philippines. The Philippines on the other hand may well change you. So now at 66 I’m David again, damn it. I can hear my mother calling me! Daaaviddd!

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House Project – The Good, Bad, Ugly – and Ugliest

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We have officially started the last week of the house portion of the project. Our target was that the house itself would be completed by September 30 and that October would be reserved for issues outside the house: completion of the wall and spikes, completion of the shop, completion of the canal, etc. We “might” actually hit our target, so this looks like a good time to review the entire project and call out some of the problems I have only hinted at before.

The Good: The contractor that we eventually hired had an architect/engineer friend who came up with two modern designs, both of which we liked. We asked for elements from both designs which he combined to create a final design. We were excited.

The contractor came up with a bid which I thought was OK but maybe a bit high. He ultimately agreed that his bid would be a fixed price; meaning that there would be no cost increases from inflation. As you will soon see, this became irrelevant. Nonetheless the negotiations went well and soon we were signing a contract with a lawyer.

Not long after, the construction started. While I would hate to categorise the entire subsequent process as bad, this was the end of the honeymoon period.

The Bad: Our contractor hired a foreman and work commenced. We were soon to find out that the foreman was only hired for 2 days/week. We complained about that but the contractor assured us that between he and the foreman there would be plenty of supervision. There never was.

A small crew, averaging 6-8 began the wall (or fence as it’s called here) surrounding the property. Janet and I would come over daily to check the progress. Sometimes progress was being made and sometimes not so much. More complaints to the contractor, more assurances, and the wall progressed, though slowly.

Three months later the wall was mostly done and they switched to work on the house. The crew expanded to about 12-13. It was quickly clear to us that a crew of a dozen would take two years to finish the house. More complaints, more assurances but the crew was rarely large enough.

There were ups and downs, mistakes and more mistakes, but yet the house did begin to take shape. Within six months we could see that these guys might actually be capable of building this house; we really weren’t sure before. But by the six month mark, money became a worry.

The contractor’s money methodology was simple. He would ask for a certain sum of money monthly and I would give it to him. After a few months the pattern was set but I could do the math and confronted him, “At the rate you are asking for money, the money will run out before the house is completed.” He assured us the first few months were the larger portions of money required because of steel and concrete, etc. and that later requests would be smaller. This never turned out to be true.

As a certain point Janet and I had one of those “Come to Jesus” meetings with the contractor. Janet said, “We have given you half the budget but we only have 25% of a house.” He again reassured us, showing us the numbers of what was still left to buy and how much got paid to the crew and that we still had money to complete the project. I was skeptical. Similar conversations and similar assurances would occur monthly.

Janet would try to assure me. “We have a contract. We can sue him if he doesn’t finish.” As the more experienced and more cynical partner I told her “A contract is only good if the person you are suing has money to pay you.” Nonetheless since progress continued we remained cautiously optimistic.

As I have documented in other blog posts, not only was supervision of the crew hit and miss, so was material purchasing. The crew and foreman often complained to us about not having the materials they needed. We would complain to the contractor and eventually more materials would arrive. But this clearly slowed the project. And less efficiency meant more cost.

We tried to help the contractor save money. Whenever we would see a needed piece for the project on sale we would contact the contractor. “Robinsons has overhead fans on sale for a great price.” We would buy the sale items and minus that amount of money from what we owed the contractor. While this should have been his methodology all along (shopping for deals), in the end it didn’t help him.

We also tried to help the contractor schedule the job. In June we went to the contractor and told him we needed the house done by the end of September so that we could move in during October. He agreed that it could be done. He told the workers that if they finished by September 30 he would give them a lechon party. Lechon is very big in the Philippines and for a few weeks the crew was excited. Pretty soon they knew the truth; that there would be no lechon.

The Ugly:

And then the fateful day occurred (cue organ). The contractor asked to meet with us at our rental home, which he never did before. He explained that he had no more money and had used some of our money to buy himself a piece of property. He couldn’t sell the property because the title was not finalised and the economy was soft.

Frankly we already knew that he had purchased a piece of property. This is the Philippines and everyone knows everyone’s business and so we had been told months before that the contractor had bought a lot. At the time my attitude was, ‘Well he’s entitled to make a profit and if he uses some of his profit to buy a lot that’s his business, as long as I get my house.’ But now it was clear we were not going to get our house.

Our first step was to take over all purchasing for the project; we simply felt we could no longer give the contractor any more money. What was shocking was how little materials were at the project. The crew needed everything. I made a list of the major elements I knew still had to be purchased, but that list turned out to be a fraction of what they really needed. Janet and I were going to stores all day long every day and cash was flowing out of our bank faster than I could keep track of it. My desk had a stack of receipts which I tracked on my spreadsheet and soon it was official; the budget was spent and we were in the red.

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For the next few weeks we gave a modest amount to the contractor weekly to pay the crew. Then one day I was contacted by a guy who was also using our contractor. “Is your crew being completely paid? Mine isn’t and they are ready to quit.” I said, “I think they must be – no one’s complained.” The next day Janet and I went to the site and asked each crew member. BTW, by this point in time the crew was over 30. Every crewman was owed some money. One poor guy was owed back pay for three weeks.

At that point we took over the payroll and paid everyone everything they were owed. It was the equivalent of an extra week’s pay.

For all intents and purposes we took over the running of the project. We asked the foreman if he could temporarily work more days and he agreed. Janet spent 8 hours a day on site watching the crew and yelling at them; she does this well. I ran around daily buying stuff. We were and are busy busy retirees.

We brought in Janet’s oldest brother, Marlon from Cebu to work. He’s worked very hard and really shown some of the crew members how work is supposed to be done. This has turned out to be a good decision, although our little rental house is now a crowded little rental house.

While there have been plenty of glitches everyone can see that the crew has worked harder and gotten more done. With luck (fingers crossed) this week the final elements of the house will be done. On Saturday Janet is giving the crew the promised lechon party.

Next week the air conditioners get installed and the crew moves to the outside projects and shop completion. With even more luck those elements will be completed in October.

In the meantime we know that there are a hundred little touch up jobs required in the house, mostly involving paint. I will be finishing the doors and there are a lot of them. Janet plans to bring the kids up from Alcoy on their school break to clean. Only in the Philippines do kids get excited to come to an overcrowded rental house to be worked like dogs.

The Ugliest: I may be conning myself, but I pride myself in telling the truth. It may be my truth or my interpretation of the truth but still I tell the truth. I ran a business for 14 years and when problems occurred I told the customer the hard truth. I worked at Intel for 15 years and told my accounts (Fortune 500s all) the cold hard truth and they accepted it.

I have become angered and depressed by how often I have been lied to in this process. Sometimes the simple lies are lies of omission, sometimes the gentle lies of ‘we don’t want to admit there’s a real problem,’ but many times bald faced lies were told to my face. It was infuriating and at times deeply depressing. I have no conclusions and no interest in globalising my experience but when I say “two plus two is four” and am told “no it’s five” – well as I say it’s infuriating.

While I don’t have final figures yet it looks to me like we will end up 20% over budget. The contractor promises that when he sells or mortgages his property he will give us some money. It might happen but I’m not holding my breath. He’s actually not a bad guy but got in way over his head.

Conclusions: Assuming you still want to own a house in the Philippines after having read all these blog posts, here are my recommendations:

  1. Buy an existing house. There are plenty of “foreigner houses” for sale throughout the Philippines and often for good prices.
  2. If you must build your own dream house, function as your own contractor. Hire an engineer and or foreman to run the project, while you do the purchasing. You will spend a year or more of your life going crazy, but it is probably the safest way.
  3. Did I mention that you can buy an existing house here and let your wife remodel it?

A funny (in my warped way) story: We did know for months that our contractor was in financial trouble because he kept listing stuff for sale on FB Marketplace. Generally it was stuff I would have no interest in but a few weeks back he listed a high end Canon camera with a couple lenses; a model that would have been a professional model a few years back. I like photography but sold my Nikon gear before I moved here. BTW, when I worked at Intel there were practically fights in the hallways over the Nikon vs. Canon debate. Shows you what nerdy engineers will get excited about.

I sent him a message. “Why don’t you just give the camera to me, as part of what you owe me.” He agreed, but could I give him a little bit to pay off the last of the workers. I agreed. When Janet and I inspected the camera I asked, “How long have you owned this?” “Eight months,” was his reply. Janet and I caught each other’s eye. I knew I was basically getting back the camera I had paid for.

So, I don’t have a house yet but I do have a nice camera.

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Why the Hell Would You Buy a Lot in the Philippines – More Tips and Landmines

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I should once again make clear that I am not a contractor and know little about house construction in the U.S. or the Philippines. I should also say again that despite any complaints I might have, our workers work hard and, let’s face it, work hard for small pay.

The following are more layman’s observations.

Can Anyone Count?

While in our last episode I complained that our contractor never bought all the materials needed, in this episode I will complain about the corollary. Now that we have taken over purchasing, we have asked all the key people (including the contractor) for lists of material needs. This has worked much better but still can be a nightmare. “We need 120 of this color tile, Sir.” So Janet and I dutifully buy 120 only to be told a week later that we need another 80. Counts are consistently not just a little off but 50-75% off. When I have time I count myself but sometimes I just get the number requested and go ballistic when I discover that someone simply couldn’t count. The conclusion: make your own count or resign yourself to the fact that you will be returning to the store multiple times for the same item.

The reverse is also true. “We need X,” I am told only to discover days later that boxes or bags of X already existed, buried under something else. It’s not the end of the world, but annoying as hell.

Finishing Something

I really don’t consider myself to be too anal (no comments). For the last 23 years in the US I lived in two old homes and accepted their flaws and imperfections. What I find in construction here in the Philippines is that nothing is ever finished 100% before the crew is moved to another task. I would estimate that our project is 80-85% completed but there is no one area that I can point to and say, “This is finished.” Painting is maybe 75% done, tile 95%, electrical 80%, plumbing 75%, etc. etc. But it seems that for whatever reasons nothing is ever completely finished before the crew is moved to another task. I am sure there are some reasons for this, such as materials running out. But in general there seems to be an “it’s almost finished” attitude that permeates. Yesterday I was told that the closets were painted and finished. When I looked I pointed to unpainted spots and areas covered with paint dust that should be cleaned. “It’s mostly finished, but not completely finished,” I said. “But it’s basically finished,” I was again told. This becomes particularly sticky when a pakyaw worker wants to get paid.

We had a welder on pakyaw for the past month. In fact he contracted to do 4 separate pakyaws. Each time he would finish 90% of the work and move to the next assignment, because that was where the money was, assuring us he’d come back and finish the previous job. When all four were 90% done and almost all the money paid out he was told to go back and finish. He spent a couple days halfheartedly finishing the assignments and doing poor work. By the end of the day Janet and I handed him a few more pesos and told him he was done. I spent my Sunday morning finishing some of what he hadn’t. It’ll get done but will just take some time and wear and tear on my ancient body.

The conclusion: Whenever possible make sure that something is done before moving to the next assignment. And don’t do pakyaws.

Do You Want Paint to Go With (or On) Your Tile?

We knew from observation and hearing stories that in the Philippines tile is laid down before the house is painted and the tile is rarely covered. From early on in the project we asked the contractor to schedule the project so that the tile came a little later but if he couldn’t do that to lay down plastic or something to project the tile. He agreed.

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Sure enough the tile went down first and despite numerous complaints nothing was done to protect it. The view is that it’s easy to clean later but the fact is that it is not. The contractor’s view is “it’s water based paint. It’ll clean up easily.”

The same attitude seems prevalent everywhere. If you have to step on, scratch or damage someone else’s work so that you can perform your work, then that’s what you do. I have given up on complaining about it. We will clean it and fix it as best as we can as we go along or at the end of the project. Janet already plans to have the kids come to Valencia on October break to clean.

Be Careful of Friends and Associates:

One of the advantages of the Philippines is its social nature. Everyone knows everyone. I swear that everyone in Dumaguete knows our contractor and visa versa. There are advantages to that and disadvantages.

The biggest disadvantage is how to discipline or even fire your friend, relative, or someone you go to church with. I know for a fact that there were people hired on the job because the contractor knew they needed money and not necessarily because they were the best person available. Now when it comes to general labor, this might be a good thing; someone motivated to work hard. But when it comes to the skill positions my preference would be for the most skilled person that can be obtained.

Supervision

One of the biggest differences between the construction of Janet’s small family house in Southern Cebu and the construction of this larger house in Valencia is supervision. Janet had no contractor in Cebu and functioned as her own contractor, but she did have Boy, an older Foreman who was on the site 5-6 days/week. While there were exceptions he mostly made things flow smoothly.

On our project a Foreman was hired but for only two days/week. I questioned that decision from the get go but was told that between the Foreman and the Contractor there would be plenty of supervision. Wrong! It was quite common for the majority of a day to go by without a supervisor onsite. Workers made their best decisions but sometimes didn’t know what to do. And of course unsupervised they did not do their best work. I complained constantly but there was never a real solution.

When Janet and I took over direct supervision of the project the first thing we did was ask the Foreman whether he could give us any more of his time for the remainder of the project. We like him and find him competent. Happily, he said he could do 3.5 – 4 days/week. Since then things seem to flow smoother and frankly the Foreman seems happier. He’s actually allowed to use his skills.

The conclusion is obvious and not unique to the Philippines. Get a good Foreman and hand him the reigns.

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Why the Hell Would you Buy a Lot in the Philippines – Part 6

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While I have a lot to say (complain about) when it comes to building a house in the Philippines, this may not be the right time and place to do it. It’s been an exceedingly difficult, stressful and expensive job. If anybody ever hears me considering doing it again by all means hit me upside the head with the nearest heavy object.

But while I won’t yet reveal all the dirty details (and dirty they are) I can tell you a few tips that we have learned the hard way.

Ordering, Buying, Purchasing or Paying – or the Wet Market Approach

We have had innumerable arguments with our contractor centering around these terms. Here’s a couple of examples. “Sir, I need x amount this month for the concrete, or steel, or iron, or tiles” – you name it. As an American I assume this means he is buying it all. Nope. He would excitedly tell me later. “I bought the X.” The X would arrive and we would be excited; progress was being made. Unfortunately a week later a worker or the foreman would tell us. “We are out of X.” “What do you mean?” I would yell. “We bought all of X.” Um, not quite. I don’t think there was ever a time where all of something was purchased. 25% maybe, 10% possibly, 50% unlikely, 100% never.

I think of this as the Wet Market Approach. Millions of Filipinos shop at the wet market daily, either because they don’t have enough money to buy food for long term or they don’t have enough refrigeration. I discovered our contractor worked similarly. He bought enough to start a portion of the project but never enough to complete it.

The other common scenario was the difference between the terminologies I listed above. Often our contractor would excitedly indicate he had bought something. But often what he really meant is he had ordered it but not paid for it. Sometimes he meant that he’d neither ordered or paid for something but simply talked to someone about an upcoming order.

A few weeks would go by and he would tell me the item in question had arrived. ‘Great,’ I thought. One more thing done. But then the reality would be communicated. “I need X amount of Pesos to pick it up.” “But didn’t you tell me that my last month’s payment was to purchase that?” “Yes,” he’d say. “But I had to use that money for more concrete.”

So if you are foolish enough (like I was) to have your contractor do the purchasing, make sure you understand the difference between what he ordered (or not ordered) and what was actually paid for.

Speaking of purchasing or expenditures in general always question the actual costs you are being quoted. No, I am not talking about lying or cheating, though that can happen too. I am talking about the natural desire to underestimate what things cost so as not to worry you, the excitable foreigner. Of course, eventually you do find out and go ballistic.

Pakyaw

Pakyaw is a term that refers to a fixed price agreement. Most foreigners know the term in reference to trike drivers. If you want to take a trike to a place off the beaten path, the driver will consider it a hire or pakyaw and you will negotiate a flat rate.

In the case of our project several skilled workers were hired on a pakyaw basis to complete a specific part of the project. There are some advantages. If the worker doesn’t work particularly hard or doesn’t work at all on a particular day, no problem; he gets paid a fixed rate for the completion of his piece of the project.

The problem is that the pakyaw person still wants to eat. So if he contracts to do a pakyaw that he estimates will take two weeks to complete, on about the third day he will come to you and ask for an advance on his payment. In several cases long before the pakyaw was done, most of the money had been paid out. The pakyaw guys says “Don’t worry. I am here. I will finish.” But in fact he may not finish till he absolutely has too.

Last week I had just such a situation. A pakyaw worker and his assistant had completed over 3/4 of a job but it still wasn’t finished. The job was to pay him 9000P and I had already advanced him 4000P. It was Saturday afternoon at 3:30. He wanted his pay or at least another advance. I wanted the job completed. “I will only pay you when the job is complete. I can meet you tonight or Sunday morning. when the work is done” After a bit of grumbling the pakyaw guy said, “We can be finished by 5:00.” “OK,” I said. “I will be back at 5:00. If you’re finished I will pay you. If not – not.”

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I preceded to rush Janet to the ferry and then rush back to the lot. All the while I was wondering what I would find at 5:00. I also was nervous about what I might find. I might have a couple of pissed off guys expecting to get paid. But I had dug my heels in and decided I would not pay until completion and that was that.

I arrived at 5:10. The guys were sitting and smoking. They proudly showed me that the work was done. I happily paid the balance and remarked, “Tanduay tonight?” “Red Horse,” was the reply and I breathed a sigh of relief. Yep, I’m a 66 year old, 5’6″ badass lol.

The other problem with pakyaw is the other workers will quickly find out and they too will want a fat juicy pakyaw. So avoid these pakyaw situations if you can.

Plywood Will Save You Money

Since Philippines construction is concrete you rarely see the built-in closets common in the US. Closets (if there are any) are cabinetry separate from the concrete walls. We wanted closets and decided to have them in all four bedrooms, with the master bedroom having the largest. Even though I am a big time wood and woodworking guy, our contractor convinced us that plywood closets would save money and they could be painted to look as good as hardwood. The same reasoning was used for the kitchen cabinetry and we bought into it. It’s nonsense.

First of all marine plywood in the Philippines is not cheap, so you really don’t save that much. Secondly, it took a carpenter two weeks to build the four closets. It is currently taking a painter and his assistant two weeks to paint the closets and they’re not done. And in the end – it’s still plywood and no amount of paint will change that. I don’t even want to know what I paid for these things and the weeks of man hours we lost.

The kitchen situation was worse. The cabinetry would be plywood. The contractor assured us the cabinet doors would look just as good as high end stuff. I told him I doubted that he had any workers skilled enough to make good quality kitchen cabinet doors. In the end we purchased the doors from a Home Depot type store. They will look decent painted, an effort that has not begun yet.

So if your contractor tells you how he will be saving you money, question it! It isn’t just an issue of getting what you want; it may not save you any money at all.

Are Your Workers Getting Paid?

In any endeavor, labor is the most important thing. Take care of your workers. A couple weeks ago an acquaintance of mine whose house was also being built by my contractor messaged me. “My workers are not getting paid all of their money and now many want to quit. Are your workers getting paid?” I responded, “No one’s complained so they must be.” The next morning Janet and I went to our lot and asked each worker directly. We found out that each and every worker was owed something. That week we took over all the payroll functions and ended up paying out nearly the equivalent of two weeks worth of pay.

I’m not sure which is weirder; the fact that the contractor hadn’t paid his crew and hid it or the fact that the crew hadn’t even complained about it. Bottom line is we made it clear that everyone would get paid and paid on time from now on.

Like I said at the beginning there’s more to say in the future. But for now if you are considering building a house in the Philippines, think again. If you still want to do it, heed my advise and the advise to come in the next couple of blogs. I estimate our project is 80% done. Hopefully the final 20% won’t kill me 🙂

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Best of Dumaguete Restaurants

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Janet and I have always been restaurant people. For the four years she lived in Portland, Oregon it was our primary form of outside entertainment. We weren’t fancy restauranteurs, spending hundreds of dollars, but we enjoyed our favourite restaurants many many times.

When we moved to Dumaguete we continued our habit. Since I was retired by then and most restaurants in Dumaguete are cheap our habit got even more engrained. We almost always went out for either lunch or dinner, occasionally doing both. So while I don’t want to pretend we know every restaurant in town, we know a lot of them. So here are various categories and our favourites, including comments on price and service. BTW, we are not giant eaters so often share an entree (maybe adding a salad) which keeps prices even lower and our addiction to restaurants higher.

I should also add that we’ve never been ultra sophisticated eaters so things like high end wines, continental cuisine, or $50 steaks are not areas we’re worried about. We target places with good food, good prices and service that doesn’t keep us at the restaurant all night.

Best Italian Restaurant: Pasta King. Kind of an easy one. While many Dumaguete restaurants have some Italian food, and some of it’s good, not many are strictly Italian restaurants. Almost all the pasta dishes I’ve had here have been good to very good. The pizza is decent though not Dumaguete’s best (see below), the service is above average, and the prices are decent. In addition there’s a small parking lot next to the restaurant and at the early times we usually go (I’m an old fart, after all) there is usually available parking. In addition, one of their few non-Italian dishes is one of Dumaguete’s best (see below). https://www.facebook.com/pages/Pasta-King/103534199784843

Best Japanese Restaurant: Mifune. Another slam dunk. There’s a couple Japanese restaurants here and some sushi places and a noodle place (Ichiraku) that’s decent but no one can touch Mifune. A huge menu, very good food, large portions, saki if that’s your need, good miso soup and tempura. They have it all. Two nights a week there’s an all you can eat buffet. We can’t eat enough to justify the buffet, so we stick to the other nights, but the buffet is very good and popular. Besides, the place reminds me of my favourite samurai actor, Toshiro Mifuni. We go monthly and on those occasions when Janet goes to visit the family and leaves me alone, I try to make a stop at Mifune. It’s downtown, a block off the boulevard so parking can be tough. The prices are just a spec higher than Duma average, but it’s a deal for what you get. https://www.facebook.com/mifunedumaguete/?__tn__=%2Cd%2CP-R&eid=ARCnZlwx_2LrwpEBhQqsE3QFyKQ2UxgOU0lvsDpWr61pfT-Kcg9Eo3-Qp4SPKJF87OV1dlyrmA07bs0-

Best Filipino Restaurant: Lantaw Native Restaurant. As a kano, I probably have no right to weigh in on this but we’ve been to Lantaw dozens of times: just the two of us, with friends, for parties, etc. Since the place is always packed I don’t think we are alone in our fondness for Lantaw. The food is strictly Filipino; you’re not gonna find Western food for some finicky tourist. The quality is typically good or better. The prices are very good. There’s a nice view of the beach. Most importantly the San Mig is very cold.

The only negative in our view is that the place is so popular there are many loud tourist groups that come and dominate the restaurant. https://www.facebook.com/Lantaw-Dumaguete-798376510295211/

Two Honorable Mention: Gerrys Restaurant: If Lantaw is cheap, Gerry’s is not. But the food is good. I get the chicken skewers nearly every time I am there.

Mooon Cafe. While the style of the restaurant is Mexican (though the Mexican food is not great) the Filipino food is good. It’s sort of all over the place with pasta (not bad), and several inexpensive steak offerings for when you really want a steak but don’t want to spend the cash for a steak. I mean Filet Mignon for 300P? Mostly stick with the Filipino food, though the onion rings are good (make sure to ask them make them crispy). https://www.facebook.com/moooncafedumaguete/

Best Pan Asian: KRI. A variety of different asian styles; everything I’ve had there is good or better. The portions are not huge so Janet and I need two entrees. The prices are a bit high. But the atmosphere is nice and the food creative and of high quality.

Best Barbecue Ribs: Lord Byron. Lord Byron always had the best ribs in town but they were located in a place that no one knew existed. Since their relocation near Siliman University, they’ve become more popular. The menu is sparse, with only a few items, mostly their ribs and their hamburger. The rib platter is large enough for Janet and I to share happily. https://www.facebook.com/lordbyronsdumaguete/

Honorable Mention: The previously mentioned Pasta King also has a great ribs platter. Janet loves it but there’s no way she can finish it herself, so I happily help.

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Best High End Restaurant: Casablanca Restaurant. Yes, by Dumaguete standards it’s expensive. You can easily drop 1000P or more for a couple; if you want a steak double or triple that price. As I mentioned before, Janet and I often share an entree which at Casablanca is typically enough for the two of us. Because of cost we probably treat ourselves 4 or 5 times a year. They are also well known for holiday specials: we’ve gone there for Thanksgiving dinner the last two years. It’s spendy but the liver pate they had two years ago reminded me of home! On the boulevard the view is nice as well. Treat yourself once in a while. It’s worth it! https://www.facebook.com/dumaguete.casablanca/

Best Pizza: Esturya Tapas and Bar. I’m a pizza lover, particularly fond of New York style pizza. There is no New York pizza in Dumaguete, and possibly none to speak of in the entire country. However, there are places that make West Coast brick oven style pizza. Esturya is an up and coming restaurant with a varied menu but they are perhaps best know for their pizza. We love the 4 topping variety: no not 4 toppings all over the pizza but 4 varieties all on the same pie. It’s the West Coast thin crust pizza, so I am still jonesing for thicker New York style, but for what it is, it is very good. The prices are decent, the restaurant atmosphere is upscale (by Dumaguete standards) and there are a few parking spaces in front. The service is typically excellent. https://www.facebook.com/esturyabarandrestaurant/

Honorable Mention: This one’s a surprise but the brick oven pizza at Bambulo Resort is nearly as good as Esturya. That may be because we swim there and after a dip in the pool a pizza and beer tastes great. Prices are good, as is the push a button service. https://www.facebook.com/BambuloBacong/

Update: I forgot South Beach Grill, which has a good brick oven pizza and other fine items.

Best Bagel: Rolling Pin.There are few options in this category but Rolling Pin makes a decent bagel. No, it’s not a New York water bagel, but it’s far better than just a piece of bread with a hole in the middle. Their other breads and pastries are also good. Prices are excellent, and service is good. They sometimes sell on Sundays in the Valencia Market, though usually by the time I get there the bagels are gone. https://www.facebook.com/RollinPinDumaguete/

Best Breads: The bakery at Octagon Sports Bar. In Bacong it’s a bit out of the way for us but whenever we are close we try to stop by. Very good breads and pastries.

Honorable Mention: The previously mentioned Rolling Pin.

Best Submarine/Steak Sandwiches: Gie Gies Sports Bar. A simple sports bar, Gie Gies has basic and mostly good bar food. But their hoagies/heros/subs (or whatever you call them in your part of the world) are good and large. The fries used to be excellent but recently changed to shoe string types – not quite as good. But to make up for it, try the potato salad. https://www.facebook.com/giegiessportsbar/

Best Bar Food: Grumpy’s. I’ve just started eating there and 3 or 4 times would typically not be enough to list a restaurant, but everything we’ve had there has been good. It’s a simple bar with a popular Open Mike on Saturdays but the food is basic, plentiful and good.https://www.facebook.com/Grumpys-Tavern-309845783047448/

Best Fried Chicken: Sunburst Restaurant. Another surprise because behind Robinsons it doesn’t look like much . But the fried chicken is very good; certainly a step or two above fast food fried chicken. The prices are not bad. It comes with a strange cole slaw which I kinda like and three (count ’em) three french fries. Janet gives me her fries; nice asawa! https://www.facebook.com/Sunburst.Dgte/

Best Tacos/Burritos: Paco’s Tacos. People just know it as the taco cart in Valencia but this is your best chance to get American style Mexican food: tacos, burritos, nachos, fajitas, breakfast burritos, etc. All are very good and the prices are good too. Seating is outdoors and limited; it is a cart after all. https://www.facebook.com/pacos.ph/

Honorable Mention: I don’t know how I can give out an Honorable Mention to a place I haven’t been to but everyone says Senoritas at the airport is excellent. Damn, I have to get there!

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Accepting the Fact that Filipinos Help me

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It’s been about seven years since I first met Janet in person. We’d been chatting online for about a year. I had already visited the Philippines twice but hadn’t met her. She’d refused to meet since she wasn’t interested in my “collecting and selecting,” but that’s another story.

Finally we met and traveled to Southern Cebu to meet her family. I arrived with a large, heavy camera bag, crammed with camera gear and anything else I could manage to stuff into it. Janet’s younger brother, Leo, approached me to take my camera bag. I refused. Oh, I tried to be nice about it saying something like, “That’s OK. I can carry it. Thanks.” But the truth is I’m an American; we’re independent; we carry our own shit; we don’t need help from anyone!

The more I travelled in the Philippines the more I realised that people actually do want to help. The cynic in me assumed there were ulterior motives but my experience is that it ain’t necessarily so. A couple years after the incident with Leo, Janet, who I was by then married to admitted that Leo asked her why I wouldn’t allow him to carry my bag. She probably gave him some line about “crazy foreigners” but I learned my lesson and from then on allowed him or anyone else to help me when I visited the family.

Since I moved to the Philippines this has continued to be an issue for me, not because I don’t like to be helped but because I have a lifetime of American experience at how I never got helped. The benefit of growing up in such a culture is independence, self-reliance, and the ability to develop skills that I was forced to develop. The negative is it’s hard sometimes and that damn camera bag is getting heavier as I age.

But I’m learning. A few weeks ago we were in Southern Cebu visiting the family. Janet had to travel for the day north to Cebu City and I decided I would return to Dumaguete. She left at 3:00AM. I got up at 6:00, got myself ready and prepared to walk the ten minutes to the national highway from where I would get a bus. As I said my goodbyes Janet’s youngest brother and a cousin jumped up to accompany me to the road. I am experienced enough now not to say as I would have in the past, “I know the way to the road. You don’t need to get up.” One boy grabbed my backpack and off we went. When we arrived at the highway I did say, “You can go home and get back to sleep now. I can wait for the bus.” “No,” I was told. We all waited. The bus came about ten minutes later and I said goodbye to the teens and thanked them.

Yesterday I was preparing for a mini-trip on my own. I laid out my clothes and backpack. Before I knew it Janet had packed the backpack. She also added a few items I’d forgotten. I was ready to tell her that “Hey I’m an independent American. I can pack my own backpack.” Instead I just thanked her. It’s nice to be taken care of but it’s been seven years and I’m still learning to appreciate it and not resist.

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Frankly one of the delights about living in the Philippines is that many Filipinos want to help you; people you don’t know at all. I like it and have tried to stop being an Independent American and just accept it.

I know what some expats think. “They” all have an ulterior motive and want something from you. In this theory the “something” probably involves money. I’m sure that happens from time to time but in my experience the desire to help is genuine.

A couple months ago I was getting ready to meet a buddy to play golf. I got a call. He’d had a flat and could I come and help. I left immediately. By the time I got there I found my friend with three Filipinos changing his tire. After they’d finished he tried to give the lead guy some money but the man refused.

You know – I think I could get used to this being helped thing!

OK, the pic I selected has nothing to do with Filipinos helping, but it’s my Goddaughter, Mia, and she’s cute!

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The Philippines allows you to do Anything – Including Screw Up!

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Both before I moved here and since, it always struck me as odd watching guys fail in the Philippines. I mean you’re given nearly everything here, how is it possible to fail? Let’s count the potential benefits, shall we. An inexpensive cost of living, so that even retirees on small pensions can more than survive. Cheap entertainment. Sun, sand, ocean and more islands than you can ever explore. Friendly people. Very friendly women. A laissez faire attitude toward most things, including most things legal.

And then it occurred to me that the very options we are given here are themselves the reasons for failure. Having options in life is wonderful but sometimes they’re a pain in the ass.

The retiree who can barely pay his rent in his own country, now can use his new found wealth to get into a bit of trouble. In his own country he’s considered nearly a bum; here he’s considered rich, with all the plusses and minuses that entails.

Are you poor at managing money? In your native country there’s enough social services to survive. Here if you piss away your cash, you’re out on the street.

The guy who likes a couple beers at night can now afford a 6-pack (to chase down his Tanduay). The guy who smokes a pack a day is up to two; cigarettes are dirt cheap. In other words alcohol and smoking addiction among expats is huge here.

The guy who used to drive a motorcycle in his youth or maybe had one for the occasional weekend trip now can ride a bike to his heart’s content; and tear his ass up in the process. The guy who always resented “the man” for his Western rules and regulations can throw his helmet aside here. Not many others (Filipino or expat) in Dumaguete wear them.

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Are you a lousy driver? This ain’t the place to drive. Are you an excellent driver? Expect your perfect record to not remain perfect.

Women probably are the biggest benefit and the biggest pitfall in the Philippines. Marry her, live with her, just date, just date five girls, date a different girl every week, don’t even bother dating. You can do it all, but each option has its possible disasters. Because of the options guys actual think when it comes to women in the Philippines, “I can do whatever I want.” Yeah that’ll work. I’m married; let’s ask Janet what she thinks of that 🙂

I could go on and on but you get the idea. While getting ready to retire and move to the Philippines, if you’re like me you’re making that list of all the benefits of moving here. And all those benefits are real and true. But let’s remember our high school physics; for every action there’s an equal and opposite reaction. IOW, every benefit can cause an equal and opposite disaster.

And one more thing. Guys move to the Philippines to reduce the stress of their Western lives and it is true there can be less stress here. That is unless you’re building your own house!

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A Tale of Two ER Trips

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A few years ago while in Portland, Janet was sick with a strong case of the flu. Lots of coughing and fever. As always she took it in stride with good humour. But one night she announced that she’d coughed up a bit of blood. “Then we’re going to the ER,” I said. Janet resisted but I insisted and off we went.

I’d never in my life been to the ER and it was an interesting experience. About 20 people were in the waiting room. We filled out lots of forms and it was quickly apparent that we were probably the only people there who were on a paying basic (had our own insurance).

Janet waited 4 hours to see a doctor. They did draw blood while we waited. By now she was a little scared. There were TVs in the waiting room and it was the night of the 2016 election and I got to watch all the CNN guys grow more and more panicked. I love watching pundits squirm.

Eventually Janet saw the doctor and he said her blood work was fine and she had the flu. He wrote a couple of prescriptions and off we went.

A couple weeks later I got the bill – $1700. My insurance company did pay most of it but I was on the hook for about $500. I thought, ‘this is the beauty of the American medical system – the finest in the world – $1700 to diagnose the flu!’

A few days ago I got a pretty strong bug here in Dumaguete. High fever and body aches. Janet asked if I wanted to go the ER and I said no; it was just the flu. But by the 2nd night my fever hit 103 and I got a little scared. I haven’t had a fever that high since I was a kid. So at 10:30 off we went to the ER.

We arrived at Holy Child Hospital ER in downtown Dumaguete. There were no throngs in the waiting room; there was only one patient ahead of me. Within a couple minutes a nurse had taken my temp and BP. Within a few more minutes the doctor came over. He was appropriately surly as I would expect a competent doctor to be. He asked a few questions and then ordered some blood work. In the Philippines high fever means to test for Dengue Fever so that was one of the ordered tests. The nurse asked for 2300 pesos ($40) for the tests, which Janet paid.

We were directed to the lab in the building next door. Again there was only one patient ahead of me and they quickly and professionally took my blood and told us to come back in an hour. They were prompt and an hour later we had the results and returned to the ER.

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“Your Dengue test is negative,” the doctor said and I breathed a sigh of relief. Dengue can be a very unpleasant experience and takes lots of time to recover from and let’s face it, I’m not a kid. The doctor added, “It’s probably the flu. You could come back tomorrow for a urine and stool sample, in case it’s a UTI.” He wrote a couple prescriptions including one for a pain reliever that I recognised as common in the Philippines. The Ugly American kicked in. “I’m taking Advil. Is this better than Advil?” He replied to the idiot kano, “Advil’s better for pain. This is better for fever reduction.” Case closed.

The nurse asked for 900 pesos ($18) for the ER visit and we were on our way. The next day we got the two prescriptions filled for $3.

I’m on the mend now and hopefully will be fully recovered for Valentines Day. Janet deserves a nice one.

You can come to your own conclusions about the difference between a $1700 and a $58 diagnosis of the flu.

Post Script: Here’s a humorous side note. In addition to the high fever and body aches I had a strong case of diarrhea. I didn’t have my reading glasses with me and didn’t want to make a mistake with a medicine bottle so the next morning I asked Janet if she’d get me the anti-diarreal meds. She grabbed two and some water and brought them to me and I quickly downed both. She suddenly spurted out. “OMG. I gave you the wrong medicine!” “What did you give me?” “Laxatives!”

It’s been an active day 🙂

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I’M Here – You don’t need to Follow :)

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It’s deja vu all over again. 44 years ago I moved to Portland, Oregon. At the time Portland was a hot bed, a hub. Young people from all over the US were moving there. Middle aged Californians were selling their overpriced houses and with the profit, buying a Portland house with cash. It was a flood of humanity that everyone assumed would end – but it never did.

The first few years I was there I assumed I would move “back home.” Back home was the East Coast. But after 2 or 3 years in Portland I stopped thinking about moving “back home.” In fact an interesting thing happened; after those 2 or 3 years I started thinking of Portland as “home.”

The next step was even more interesting. I started to resent the throngs that kept moving to Portland, ruining “our home.” In the 70s there was a popular bumper sticker in Oregon that read, “Don’t Californicate Oregon,” and I was a big proponent of that philosophy. I had my Oregon dream; the rest of you could go somewhere else (hell, came to mind).

So what does this all have to do with Dumaguete and Valencia where we now live. About a week ago were were waiting for the ferry to take us from Cebu back “home” to Dumaguete. We were tired and wanted to get home. The port was mobbed and Janet was told that one ferry was broken and so the other ferry was taking people back and forth and therefore we had to wait for the next trip. The wait would easily be an hour. I looked around at my fellow waiters – and sneered. There were back packers all over. What the hell do backpackers want to come to Dumaguete for, I wondered. There aren’t any white sand beaches where a backpacker can pitch a tent. The place, while not expensive, is not a cheap backpacker haven. And Filipinos here are pretty cleanly and even use deodorant. So what the hell are backpackers doing coming to spoil my lovely little city?

And then I spied a group of Chinese tourists. Each wheeled a piece of luggage the size of a small boat. Why would they leave the more metropolitan Cebu for our sleepy little city? Again no white sand beaches to sun bathe on. There’s not even a decent Chinese restaurant; no offence to one of our faves, Chin Loong, which can’t decide whether it’s a Chinese or Filipino restaurant.

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They all loaded on the ferry and those of us without a ticket (waiting for the next ferry run) watched them sail away. Again I sneered. I’m usually a fairly nice guy but I imagined the ferry in those choppy waters, might well, sink. Then I amended my fantasy. I didn’t want to see anything bad happen to my fellow residents of Dumaguete. Perhaps, I thought, the ferry could sink only on the side carrying the backpackers and tourists.

And then I realised it was official; Dumaguete was our home. We made it here, we are settled here and building a house. I suppose the expats that were already here when we arrived a year and a half ago can stay. But for anyone new? The place it a shithole and you don’t want to come. Stay away! You have been warned.

Now just as with Portland 44 years ago I know my fantasy will not happen. How could it, when magazines and websites declare Dumaguete to be the best place to retire in the Philippines. They should check out Portland, Oregon. I hear it’s a pretty nice place to retire.

I’m not a bad person – really I’m not. But perhaps those magazine and website writers could take a ferry ride and have just a little accident.

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