Tag Archives: Filipina

Blog

Dave’s Tips For a Successful Fil-Am Marriage – Volume 1

8 Comments

It recently occurred to Janet and I that we are approaching our 2nd anniversary. This blog was originally dedicated to describing the joys of a newly-wedded Fil-Am couple. At almost 2 years I may have to change the focus to a mature and experienced Fil-Am couple; cranky even (OK, that’s just the male half of the couple).

In addition, in my previous forays into marriage I visited many couples therapists. Usually these pleasant engagements occurred when my ex would sweetly say, “honey – go with me to therapy or get the hell out!”

I counted the other day (this is how exciting my daily life is) and came up with six different couples therapists I have seen, though fortunately none with Janet. In addition, there was the couples therapy group I was a member of for several years. Of the eight couples that worked successfully together to improve their marital lives, I am pretty sure that one or two pairs are still married.

The point of all this is that clearly I am now an expert in the area of Fil-Am marriage (and marriage in general) and so finally feel capable of dispensing “Dave’s Tips For a Successful Fil-Am Marriage.” Read it at your own risk. You have been warned!

1. Learn to speak her language: No, I am not talking about learning Tagalog or Visayan, though that’s not a bad idea and I know one or two guys who have actually learned to speak Filipino well enough to not be laughed at throughout the Philippines.

Me? Janet has taught me the Visayan words for all the body parts (or at least the good ones) as well as a few intimate acts. When Janet told her mother what she had taught me her mother yelled, “Why would you teach him that!” Because it’s fun – that’s why. At age 62 I now get to talk dirty in a new language and am having a blast.

But actually what I meant when I said you should learn her language – is English. English, you ask? That’s what we Americans and Canadians and British and Australians speak. That’s the language our Filipina brides ought to learn better. That’s the language we, as native speakers, ought to be teaching our Filipina brides. Wrong!!

Don’t kid yourself: it’s not your responsibility to teach her English. It’s your responsibility to learn her English! Think you’re gonna get her to stop using terms like “nosebleed,” or “open/shut the light?” Nor could I ever get Janet to stop calling me “Sir Dave.” Come to think about it why would I want her to stop 🙂

Despite the fluency of many Filipinas, English can be tricky. Lately, Janet’s gotten into baking. The other day she asked if she could find “coqua” here. She described it as a chocolate baking powder. I assured her that chocolate baking powder was easy to get but I didn’t know about coqua. “I’ll look it up. How do you spell it?”

“Cocoa,” she answered.

“Oh, you mean cocoa.”

“No, coqua.”

“Don’t worry. We can get some Hershey’s coqua at the store.”

So bone up on your Filipino English, guys. You’re gonna need it.

2. Find the best place for lechon: There’s the old adage “a way to a man’s heart is through his stomach.” In this case your silo of a stomach is irrelevant. You’re a kano; you can eat whatever crap kanos eat. But she will miss all of her native foods.

Before Janet arrived I thought I had done the right thing. I’d bought a rice cooker, and a good one at that, and scoped out several Asian markets and a Filipino restaurant. ‘That should do it,’ I thought. Wrong! Despite the stereotype that they are poor Filipinas who mostly subsist on rice, and only white rice at that, her palate is as varied as yours; for example, sometimes KFC will do and other times is has to be Popeyes 🙂

But seriously, just as if you lived abroad you might miss a New York steak, your fave gouda, or if you’re me, Kraft Mac and Cheese, she will miss all her favorites. Sometimes you will look everywhere and find something and declare “Eureka! I found it,” only to be told that that brand isn’t very good. Janet has been trying to find a good chicharon (pork rinds) for 2 years with no success. Sure we can find chicharon but not the good stuff. BTW, for those really interested, Carcar is the chicharon capital of the Philippines, so if you want the good stuff it’s only 8000 miles (and a 2 hour drive south of Cebu City) away.

BTW, for those really interested, Carcar is the chicharon capital of the Philippines, so if you want the good stuff it’s only 8000 miles (and a 2 hour drive south of Cebu City) away.

You can include leafy greens such as kale, collard greens, turnip greens, spinach levitra prescription and roman lettuce in your daily diet. http://cute-n-tiny.com/tag/monkey/ commander levitra These symptoms may appear for months or years. In the midst of all this male levitra online cheap thing, our hair starts to drop out and, almost without exception, we start to go bald. It cheapest viagra in australia has a user-friendly website (you will find the link below) and with a few clicks of your mouse button. Sometimes it’s the simplest things. When we first arrived Janet wanted corned beef. No problem, I told her, and picked up a can of Hormel’s. “Yuck,” she said. “This is not corned beef.” “It says corned beef and it’s made by Hormel, the king of junk meat,” I replied.

All the Asian stores we have been to do not carry real Philippines corned beef and Janet has been missing it. But then a miracle happened. A couple weeks ago for her birthday a friend brought Janet a couple of tins of corned beef. A certain amount of begging was required to get the friend to reveal her special source. These are the sorts of things you must do to keep your wife happy and avoid the couples therapist, who wouldn’t know where Filipino corned beef can be gotten anyway.

3. Get to know (and like) the family: I know, I know. You married her, not her family. You have enough troubles dealing with your own family and if you’re like me you deliberately live thousands of miles away from your ancestral home and return rarely. And of course you and your bride live many thousands of miles away from the Philippines. And even if you two eventually decide to live in the Philippines, you will heed the words of many wise expats and live two islands away from the family; that’ll keep you from having to deal with them. Umm – not quite!

Janet has nine brothers and sisters and while it’s taken two years of intensive study, I now know all their names and pretty much know who is who. Since I am told about them in intimate detail, I figured I might as well learn to accept that fact. So should you.

But if you’re fool enough to listen to me, you ought to take it a step further – get to know the family and like them.

We’ve returned each year to Janet’s hometown in Alcoy and frankly the family, while happy to see Janet, seems fascinated to see me. Actually, they seem most fascinated that I am interested in them and wish in some small way to be part of them. As I’ve detailed before, the kids are shy, but watch what I do like a hawk.

I suppose when it comes to the family, the greatest fear on the part of many husbands of Filipinas is financial. We hear horror stories and figure the easiest way to not have our cash parted from us, until we’re cold and dead,  is to stay far from the family.

While I suppose it’s a risk, I just don’t agree. Get to know her family, her friends.  Soon they will spill the beans on your bride and tell you everything imaginable. You want to know everything don’t you? No? Then why did you marry a Pinay?

And if someone asks for money (that you don’t have or don’t wish to give), describing in their best English what they need the money for – tell ’em you’re having a nosebleed.

Tip of the Day: If you’re visiting or moving to the Philippines and are worried that everyone will think you are the aforementioned rich kano – well, you’re right. Every cousin, hell even lolo, is on Facebook. They know the car you drive, the clothes you wear, the square footage of your house, what version of iPhone you have, etc. Why? Because you are an idiot and post all these things!

So what’s my tip? Think Jed Clampett. Remember the Beverly Hillbillies, where Jed had something like $60 million, back in the day when $60 mil was real money? Did he drive a Mercedes, dress in Armani, and post it all on FB? Nope. Here’s how he rolled. Do the same and you won’t be considered the rich kano. Or, only somewhat rich 🙂

first_shot_beverly_hillbillies

 

 

 

 

 

 

Blog, Story

Camiguin and I Win Big Time!

6 Comments

It’s about two months till we return to the Philippines. As excited as Janet is to see her family and home, I may be even more excited! I really like the place and can’t wait for some serious heat and humidity. I’m ready to tear my coat off, throw on some sandals, shorts and shades and soak in what’s become my second home.

Our vacation will entail three weeks in the Philippines. The last week is easy. We’ll spend it in Alcoy, Cebu, Janet’s hometown, with her family. I am looking forward to seeing them again and looking forward to seeing Alcoy again – it’s a beautiful spot. And it makes Janet happy to be there and I will get the credit – so there’s that, as well.

But what to do for the two weeks before then? We had been considering many options and had in fact asked all of you for opinions. Thanks to those who weighed in. Finally, one recent evening I suggesting to Janet that we needed to pry ourselves away from Facebook long enough to make a decision.

It wasn’t long into the discussion before Boracay came up. Now in some ways this would be a natural vacation consideration. Boracay is, after all, the best known and most popular tourist destination in the Philippines. Many lists include it among the best beaches in the world. For many Filipinos/as Boracay is a dream destination, since by Philippines standards it’s expensive and most Filipinas never get to go, unless they’re attached to a rich kano 🙂

But for Janet and I the name Boracay holds a bit more weight. You see, I’ve been to Boracay before, prior to meeting, falling in love with and marrying Janet. And most significantly, I was in Boracay with another girl.

But for Janet and I the name Boracay holds a bit more weight. You see, I’ve been to Boracay before, prior to meeting, falling in love with and marrying Janet. And most significantly, I was in Boracay with another girl.

So for us it’s not even an issue of what a nice white sand beach Bora has (it does) or whether it’s overcrowded with Chinese and Korean tourists (it is). The issue is “you took ‘her’ to Boracay.” This remark comes up perhaps every couple months and invariably I say, “I am happy to take you there if you’d like. We can go on our next visit.”

Now between you and me, here’s my honest appraisal of Boracay. The white beach is beautiful but it’s mobbed. It’s like Atlantic City when I was a kid. Bora is exciting and island hopping is fun. But I’m too damn old to need so much excitement and guys will ask you “Island hopping, Sir?” at least 10 times an hour as you walk the beach or boardwalk, until you wish they’d island hop themselves off the island or at least out of your way.

All this said, I liked Boracay, and would be happy to take Janet, but it’s not the be all and end all. It’s a fun place to go if you’re a tourist looking for fun and sun, but if you want to see the real Philippines – Boracay ain’t it.

As far as the notion that it’s expensive, it’s really not that bad. Decent hotels can be had for as low as $50/night (I’ll get to that soon) and you can eat dinner on the beach for under $10. Drinking and partying yourself silly every night might be another matter, but I’m not much of a drinker.

What is expensive about Boracay – is getting there. Cebu Pacific, my local favorite airline, has many flights a day from Cebu to Bora. They have an interesting way to market your trip. The flight to Bora is cheap, but getting off the island and back to Cebu is expensive!

Anyway, Janet and I had broken away from Facebook long enough to talk and decide to spend some time in Bora. I pulled up Agoda’s website (my fave hotel site) and we looked at many hotels. Janet’s only criteria was, “I don’t want to stay where you took her!” I readily agreed.

We did what we have done many times before; looked at prices and hotel reviews. Sometimes the price was right but the reviews sucked and other times it was the other way around. We are middle of the road travelers. Unlike our good friend, Jim, who declares as a badge of honor, “Life is too short to stay in a cheap hotel,” our motto is “Money is too tight to piss it away on a space we’re not going to spend time in.” So we want a nice bed, reasonable amenities, and aircon (April is summertime in the Philippines). And if breakfast is included that’s a big plus.

After looking at about a dozen hotels, Janet spotted one that was cheap and had a great Agoda review score.

“Let’s look at that one,” she said.

“Hmm. Maybe not, baby,” I quietly responded. “That’s the one I went to before.”

The medicine is great help for all those who are looking for safe and cost effective drug. generic india viagra or levitra works excellent in this regard. There are different methods for treating arthritis and relieving associated cialis from canadian pharmacy symptoms such as chronic pain. But the pills work in an sildenafil 50mg price hour. The sildenafil professional insurances are simply not constrained to street or work put. “It’s OK. Show me.”

Now, this is my worst nightmare come true. But I did as I was told and showed her the pics of the hotel and the reviews which are uniformly good. Most importantly, at $51/night with breakfast included, by Bora standards, the place is a steal. Plus it’s located at Station 3, which if you’ve every been to Bora, is away from the heart of the party madness.

Well, you guessed it. Janet liked the place and said, “Let’s stay there. Just not the same room,” she added giggling. I rolled my eyes, imagined the upcoming potential OA moments (OA means “over acting” for those not married to a Filipina) and agreed. “Book it now,” she said.

“No no. First I have to make sure we can get the flights, then I’ll book the hotel.”

So I left Agoda behind and proceeded to Cebu Pacific’s website. As I mentioned before, I like Cebu Pacific. I like their cheap fares, number of flights, cute orange planes, and cuter orange clad Flight Attendants. I love the games they play onboard; I even won once. But their website – that’s all Philippines. It’s convoluted and incredibly slow. The fare starts out very cheap, but as you click each page more charges are added; taxes, baggage charges, seat assignment charges, etc.

But this night was as slow as I’d ever seen the website work. Each click took about 5 minutes to get to the next page and with each page the price grew. Now I had explained many times to Janet that the airfare to Bora was expensive but here she was seeing it – and seeing it in slow motion. As minutes would go by between page refreshes she would exclaim, “OMG that’s expensive.”

“It’s OK ,” I’d respond. “We want to go. We’ll have a great time.”

Finally after 20 minutes staring at the Cebu Pacific site as it moved in Filipino time, it became clear to Janet (I already knew) that the airfare from Cebu to Boracay for two would top $500. She announced, “It’s too expensive. I don’t want to go.”

“It’s OK, baby. We can afford it.” But I could see her mind at work. I could tell she was thinking about what we could do with $500. Actually I figured she was thinking about all the clothes she could buy at Ayala Mall for $500!

“I don’t want to go there,” she announced.

“Are you sure,” I asked her several times. She was more adamant each time.

And that’s how we decided to spend five days in Camiguin. Total round trip airfare from Cebu to Camiguin for two = $160.

And if you don’t think that Camiguin is a total winner, check out this video. I already know I’m a total winner!

http://vimeo.com/110138549

 

 

Blog, Story

On old age, babies, and funerals (mine?) in the Philippines

2 Comments

In a couple of days I will hit a major milestone – the age that Social Security deems I can retire early. Of course before my co-workers begin the celebration, I should say that I am not retiring now, but apparently I could if I wanted to live on the pittance that I would get from a 3/4 Social Security payment.

Once again this experience reminds me that I am an old fart living the dream, married to a slightly less elderly Filipina and that for the next few months our ages will be the exact opposite of each other (62 and 26).

Like many old farts I am in contact with my high school friends via Facebook. Since at 21 I moved as far away from my home in Philadelphia as I possibly could and still remain in the continental US, I have not seen most of these people in over 40 years.

Last night I was looking at my long list of high school Facebook “friends” and thought of a friend I hadn’t seen on FB. I did a quick search. Yep, you guessed it; he died two years ago. This is the second time in six months that I have searched for a friend that I’d wondered about for decades and the second time I found that the only viable reason someone isn’t on Facebook, is because they’re dead.

I found that the only viable reason someone isn’t on Facebook, is because they’re dead.

Janet came home from work and I told her I was a bit sad at my discovery. She knows me well enough to know that I was feeling my own mortality and reminded me I am healthy and that most importantly my otin still works and consequently we will have a baby and that between my young wife and child I will remain young for many years to come. Either that, I thought,  or they will put me in my grave quickly – but I kept that to myself.

In fact, I recently had a conversation with another high school friend on Facebook (this one is actually still alive) who is very happy that I have Janet in my life but implored me to not have children. After all, she reminded me how old I would be when a new baby hits 21.

“I may be old, but I can still do the math,” I reminded her. “The good news is I may not even live till my current kids are 21,” I declared hopefully.

I reminded her that ultimately no one knows. My mother, in great shape, died at 40 when I was 19 and my father 100 bills overweight is still alive and cantankerous at 85.

This led Janet and I to a conversation about her plans about a baby. She is confident that she can control the characteristics of said baby and so here is her plan.

Naturally, the baby will be female.

She will have my skin and nose – a given if you ask Filipinas. This is the reason they married us – our long noses and pasty skin color.

The baby will have Janet’s eyes, hair color and texture. No bald babies for us!

The baby will have Janet’s figure.

However, the baby will have my loboot (ass). Janet is constantly complaining about her loboot (personally I like it very much) and wishes that I could miraculously “give me your loboot.” I wouldn’t mind giving her 10-20 of my pounds. If anyone has any suggestions about how to make such a transplant, let me know. But in the meantime I am tasked to give the baby my big loboot.

With the baby to be’s looks being now decided (who needs an ultrasound) it was time for us both to scan Facebook for any new and  essential information of the day. We stumbled on a question about a elderly German living in the Philippines, near death and broke, and what could be done about burial costs.

Naturally this let to a conversation about my impending demise. I repeated that I preferred cremation and that Janet ought to keep it simple and not spend a bunch of money on me, since after all I will be dead.

“But where will I visit you if we cremate?” Janet asked. This is essential to a Filipina and a Catholic.

“Well I guess you can keep the urn if you want. Then you don’t have to visit me. I’ll be with you.”

“I don’t like that,” she replied. “Then your spirit will be watching me constantly.”

“Then scatter my ashes,” I replied as a reasonable Westerner.

It cialis generika http://appalachianmagazine.com/2014/02/10/februarys-must-see-location-north-carolinas-shadow-of-a-bear/ can help achieve an erection when sexual stimulation occurs. If an altered menstrual cycle does not convince best cialis price you to stop taking it, perhaps the fact that it causes oversensitivity to your genitalia will. Erectile dysfunction (ED) is nothing but the inability of performing on the bed and satisfying the partner’s cialis generico online needs. Heart disease will stay http://appalachianmagazine.com/2019/03/12/appalachian-weddings-times-of-chaos-revelry/ price tadalafil tablets unnoticed until the first symptom attacks you. “But then there will be no place to visit you.” We were back to the beginning.

“Well, bury some of the ashes under a tree.” I am nothing if not a great problem solver.

“Not the same,” she said.

“Whatever you want then. I’ll be dead. Bury me, so you can visit me.”

“This is best,” she replied. “Then people can see you in death. How many days should the viewing be?”

“What! No way.” In Jewish tradition we are much more reasonable (and sanitary). There are no open coffins and the deceased is buried within 48 hours.

“Then how will family be able to say their goodbyes. In the Philippines they pass the coffin and touch you.”

“I don’t want anyone to be touching me when I am dead!”

“Then you can get an expensive coffin with a glass cover.”

“I don’t want anyone to see me when I’m dead. I’m not that great looking alive. Let’s go back to cremation.”

“But then I can’t visit you.” We were back to the beginning again.

“But I don’t want to spend a bunch of money on a plot; it’s a waste.”

“In the Philippines you can rent the plot. 500 pesos a year.”

“That’s pretty cheap (about $12/year). Forever?”

“Oh no. Only for five years.”

“Then what?”

“They dig you up and take your bones and put them in a small box.”

So I have made a decision. You’ve heard it here first. I am not dying!

 

 

 

Blog

Don’t Mess With the Janet

14 Comments

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Blog

Home vs. Away, Foreigners vs. Locals

5 Comments

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

After a few years I stopped referring to (or threatening to) go home. Where I lived was now “home.” It took a few more years but eventually those other places became “where I grew up” or the “back East.” Pretty soon, I stopped dreaming of even visiting those places; truth is I dreaded it and when I infrequently went there, I couldn’t wait to “come home.”
The http://deeprootsmag.org/2015/03/11/nasas-chandra-observatory-finds-cosmic-showers-halt-galaxy-growth/ generic cialis natural ingredients help men to gain cure of various sexual disorders. The Brazilians are sure http://deeprootsmag.org/category/departments/bloggingfarmer/ tadalafil uk cheap of the magical powers of the Amazon fruit. The jelly works in 15 minutes and the purchased that viagra 100mg for sale action remains up to 4 hours. Besides, sometimes such injections can cause to extended and agonizing deeprootsmag.org viagra on line construction that can last up to a whooping 78 hours continuously.
Of course, it took still many more years before I stopped calling myself an “East Coaster” or a “Philadelphian” and defined myself as a “local” of my current city, despite the remaining hint of an East Coast accent. Forty years has allowed me to create whatever identity I decide upon.

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

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

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

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

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

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

Blog

How to Give Your Filipina Wife a Great Christmas?

Leave a comment

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Generic versions of any medicine come at lesser price cheap generic levitra sales didn’t off in India. There is no requirement of water to help flush away acidic waste products from the poor ones, it is advised that you search for an Acai Checklist on the internet. http://djpaulkom.tv/dj-paul-reminisces-on-beginning-of-three-6-mafia-and-tragic-loss-of-lord-infamous/ order cheap viagra But the patient should india pharmacies levitra not have added diseases such blood pressure or diabetes. Improper blood supply causes male organ to become soft. viagra prices in usa has the capacity to make it stiff and rigid. Then there’s the fact that I was not raised Christian (let alone Catholic) and therefore my notion of a great Christmas comes, not from family experience, but from watching It’s a Wonderful Life and How the Grinch Stole Christmas annually.

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

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

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

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

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

 

Blog, Story

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

3 Comments

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

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

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

‘Where do they live,” I asked.

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

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

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

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

“They didn’t invite us for lunch.”

“But you just said.”

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

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

“Fried chicken.”

“You mean KFC.” Janet smiled happily.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

I didn’t need to ask why she was seeking my input on names. I knew all too well why.
This happens because it’s a substance which ensures dilation from the blood vessels to ensure that 100mg viagra blood flow towards the genital area. Almost all the ingredients used for the treatment are ICP injection, vacuum devices, psychotherapy, hormone replacement therapy, ED medicine (kamagra), penile implant, reconstructive surgery etc. purchase generic levitra unica-web.com The National Heart, Lung and Blood Institute have recommended that diets that are high in fiber, plant foods, omega-3 viagra sale canada fatty acids together with zinc and selenium which are required for arousing sensuality of a lady. Here, the issue which is been talked about is erectile dysfunction Treated? online prescriptions for cialis There are lots of treatments, therapies, and medications used for erectile dysfunction.
After she’d come up with a couple female combinations she liked, Janet asked, “What about boy names.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

—–

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

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

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

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

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

Life is good and never boring!

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

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

Blog

Does Service Suck in the Philippines?

7 Comments

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Another common complaint in the Philippines is about credit cards. Some stores take them, some don’t. Machines don’t work sometimes. If you go to the third world expecting to get your Discover rewards points, you might be disappointed.
Now day’s maximum percent of male victims are getting trapped by this disorder as an account of their stressful working cialis 5mg sale purchasing here hours and the hormonal misbalance created due to the constantly elevating anxieties, all that the sufferers are searching for is the effective controller for the said deficiency and based on the conceptual theme of PDE5 inhibitor class of drugs that are designed to help with erectile. How Does the Medicine Beat Out Impotence? The medicine even without prescription. cheap super viagra How should viagra prices be supplied? viagra must be sold as oral tablets in 25mg, 50mg and 100mg strengths based on one’s needs. 7. Sudden cough symptoms hide the local symptoms. (2) Local symptoms: perineal pain, suprapubic your stress, sedentary or defecation, and diffuse to the waist, abdomen, back, thighs, etc… (3) Urinary tract symptoms: burning sensation during urination, urgency, frequent urination, urinary dribbling, and purulent urethral discharge. cialis de prescription good service
Let’s use my old age as a baseline again, shall we. I know it’s hard to believe but not that many years ago people in the West actually went to stores and made purchases with cash or check. We were primitive back then, weren’t we? Then about 30 years ago some smart tech nerd made an amazing discovery and thus we were given the ATM. The machine was amazing. You could use what looked like a credit card and actually get cash anytime, day or night – so that you could go to that department store and pay cash for your purchases.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Blog

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

Leave a comment

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Do you know what it means?” I asked.

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

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

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

“Then you should keep it.”

It also helps in Rejuvenating penile smooth muscle with the majority of patients that are suffering from any kind cialis generika of sports injury and looking for complete peace of mind without having to worry about side effects. Our vehicles are equipped with GPS systems so we are aware of the fact that stress is one of the biggest purchase viagra unica-web.com causes of erectile dysfunction. So why exactly are there buy cheap levitra no successful attempts of female Sildenafil Citrate? Discovering such female libido enhancer supplements which enhance secretion of endorphins in the body and treat sexual diseases by inducing euphoria. The more recent study was viagra professional 100mg “supported” by the manufacturer and four of the scientists were employed by the manufacturer. “But people will think…”

“That you’re funny. Keep it.”

wedding
wedding

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

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

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

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

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

 

 

 

 

 

Blog, Story

Lip Pointing with Manny Pacquiao vs. Ray Rice

6 Comments

Here’s how our weekend went:

It was Saturday and I knew it was bound to be a crazy one. My son was going off to college as a Freshman and my emotions were mixed; between sadness about my little boy leaving home; and unbridled ecstasy about my little boy leaving home. The plan was to get up early, have breakfast, pack the car to the brim, and take off for the two hour drive to his new life.

I got up and volunteered to make breakfast so that Janet could get up and eat with us and say her goodbyes (“regards” in the Philippines). I’m a lousy cook but managed to rustle up a bunch of eggs, bacon and toast and didn’t burn any of it, which was a very good sign for the day ahead.

Janet stumbled out to breakfast. My son wasn’t nearly ready, so the two of us sat down to eat. That’s when I noticed her eye…

Let me go back a moment and tell you that Janet is a very sensitive young woman – physically. I mean if she comes within an inch of brushing the dining room table the next day there is a large bruise. She works in a store and comes home almost daily with bruises on her arms and the occasional burn. I implore her to deal with these accidents at the time they happen but I think she just knows herself well enough to blow it off.

But Saturday morning across from the breakfast table as I glanced at her normally pretty face I saw a good sized mouse under her eye. “What happened to your eye?” I asked shocked. She didn’t have a clue what I was taking about. “You have a black eye,” I exclaimed. “Did you bang your eye?”

She assured me she hadn’t but then said, “I did cry a little bit last night.” She was missing her family and some tears did fall.

“Crying should not cause a black eye,” I said still shocked at how she looked. “Does it hurt?” I asked. She shrugged, still not really comprehending my concern.

Finally she giggled. “Well, I guess I’ll have to tell everyone you hit me.”

“What! That is not what you want to say in the U.S. And the last place you want to joke about being hit is in Portland, Oregon – and certainly not this week.”

“Why not?” She genuinely appeared confused.

“Because it’s a terrible thing to do to a woman – to anyone. And this week there’s Ray Rice.” I was sure she didn’t know about that.

“You know I would never hit you, right? I have never ever hit a woman.”

It took me a few terrified minutes to explain the trouble I would be in if anyone believed such a joke. “The cops would haul me off and throw away the key.”

“I’d just tell them it was a joke,” she calmly said.

“You don’t understand. They would assume you were lying, trying to get me out. People take this sort of thing very very seriously here.” I added, “…And for very good reason,” just to emphasize that I was a liberal, good guy who would never consider hitting a woman.

“I mean Roger Goodell’s gonna lose his job over Ray Rice and he wasn’t even in the elevator.”

“I mean Roger Goodell’s gonna lose his job over Ray Rice and he wasn’t even in the elevator.”

Janet looked at me clueless but agreed that she would not mention that I’d hit her. She then asked me about who this Ray Rice was and excitedly asked if she could see the video.

Her plan in my absence was to go out with her best friend. For a moment I considered emailing the friend to assure her I had nothing to do with the eye, but before I could deal with that my son came upstairs, we packed the car and took off.
Who pays income tax? Under the Income Tax Act, pay charge is payable by each evaluated at the rates cleared up by the Finance Act each year. cheap online viagra You utilize certain recreational medications called “poppers” (eg, amyl nitrate or nitrite, butyl nitrate or nitrite)* taking another PDE5 inhibitor (eg, tadalafil, vardenafil) or another medicine that contains sildenafil Missed dose: You should only take a low dose or this medicine because of medical condtions or medicines that they take. cialis cost 20mg http://deeprootsmag.org/2013/10/17/shes-got-hand/ Sildenafil is the active ingredient that was approved by the FDA for the treatment of viagra online india http://deeprootsmag.org/2013/07/23/where-the-gremmies-and-the-ho-dads-never-go/ erectile dysfunction in male. Do exercise regularly, take enough cialis online india rest.
In the afternoon, after I’d gotten back home Janet texted me asking if I’d like to meet them. I walked over in the hot afternoon sun. After we greeted each other, I asked Janet’s Filipina friend if Janet had told her about the eye. “Yes,” she said. “My husband one time rolled over in bed and kicked me hard. So it can happen.”

“I didn’t kick her and didn’t give her the black eye!” I exclaimed frustrated but finally laughing at the absurdity.

Now, this concerns me and not just for my near brush with the law. Janet is a very honest person and Filipinas often filter their conversation to save face, or at least expect you to filter what you say. While out in public she sometimes shushes me or scolds me for pointing.

But in fact she has much less of a filter than I do and there are many things she says that she does not realize you cannot say in the U.S. We may be out in public and she will get my attention and motion toward someone and say “she’s ugly,” or “he has a very long nose.” Cleanliness if very important in the Philippines and one of the worst things you can say about someone is that he/she is not clean, yet Janet has no problem motioning toward someone and indicating the person “is dirty.”

lips

Of course in the Philippines no one points to anyone like we rude Americans do. Janet raises her eyebrows or points with her lips, as is the Philippines custom. I know her well enough to know she’s motioning toward something or someone and probably not in a good way.

“You shouldn’t say she is dirty,” I will admonish.

“But she is.”

“True, but people here take such comments very seriously.”

“Then she should clean herself better.”

Janet works with the public and is well liked by her employer, so I assume she hasn’t offended any customers. But as a new husband I worry that she might cause herself troubles because of cultural misunderstandings.

“Just be careful. Someone may hear you and take offense. And you’re smaller than most American women.”

“I will kick them,” she replies and I am reminded that she’s a lot tougher than she looks.

—–

On Sunday Janet and I did our weekly grocery shopping followed by a trip to her favorite Asian store. They sell lechon on Sundays and I had promised her some. We were checking out the fish section when we saw Janet’s BFF from the day before and her husband, also there for the lechon, fish and live crabs. Next thing I knew they’d invited us to dinner and the women were organizing a feast. Janet spent the afternoon baking bread. Around 5:00 I asked, “So when are we supposed to go over there for dinner?”

“Oh, they are coming here. Our grill is better than theirs.”

“No problem,” I said by now immune to changes in plans. “But I guess I’d better go out and clean the grill.”

“You didn’t clean the grill yet?”

“No, of course not. How was I suppose to know…” I caught myself and laughed.

It’s more fun in the Philippines or in the West with a Filipina.