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My PI Cancer Adventure – Part 3

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Part 1

Part 2

Part 4

Part 5

Part 6

Part 7

We returned to the doctor’s office three days later to have the bandages replaced. I had thought plenty about whether I was ready to look at the results, knowing it would be swollen and nasty looking.

Surprisingly it was not that bad. OK, it was bad but not as bad as my crazy brain was fantasising. After the doctor replaced the giant bandage with a more modest one I looked like Jack Nicholson in Chinatown. In fact I jokingly mentioned the reference to the doctor, who admitted she was not familiar with the movie but would watch it.

After the bandage change she wrote and handed me a quick order. “After about a month when the surgery has heeled I want a CT Scan and an MRI. Even though we got all the cancer, spread is possible.” I freaked and saw my life flash before me. I went to the darkest place.

The next couple of days I spent sleepless nights and Janet wonderfully tried to calm me down and said “we’ll get through this.” I was planning the funeral.

My mind has always been strong or so I’ve told myself. But this week my rational mind had come apart. It started the day of the surgery when the doctor showed me the photo of my nose. I literally thought “there is a giant hole in my nose going all the way through. Hole in the nose plus CT scan plus MRI means the end.” I thought this completely and believed it absolutely.

It was a couple days before I could express this to Janet. “No – there wasn’t a hole in your nose,” she said confused. “Yes they dug but did not through it. Go look.” She dragged me to the mirror. “Feel inside – they didn’t go all the way through.” It took a lot of convincing because I was sure of what I saw. But finally I was convinced and realized that my mind had made it up and I was incapable of expressing what I thought I saw. All I could say at the time to my doctor and Janet was, “OMG is that my nose?” “Well of course it was your nose,” Janet said. “Whose nose was it?”

Once I realized that my mind had fooled me, I saw that I had taken everything to the darkest place possible. OK, this is sort of my nature but never like this. Part of it is that I have been so healthy with literally nothing major and very little minor ever occurring in my 68 years that the shock of something serious made me more than a little crazy.

So it took two days for me to decide, ‘maybe it’s not the end yet.’ Sounds crazy and it is but for nearly 48 hours I thought this completely. I came to this changed realization just in time for us to arrange to return to Negros Oriental.

We got up Monday morning and tried to perform what we needed to do to leave Manila and return home. We found the local Barangay, the one nearest the hotel, and got a Barangay clearance. We proceeded to the City Hall and submitted documents for the medical clearance. This included a certification from my doctor as to what surgery had been performed and that I could travel. It also included negative swab tests for both of us.

Unfortunately I had done my swab test the day before the surgery, so technically that was a day or two too early for the clearance. I neither wanted to stick something way up my nose again nor could we afford the day another test and results would take. Janet asked (begged) for a special consideration. I pointed to the giant Jack Nicholson bandage on my nose and they agreed.

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However we were told that the police clearance could take 2-3 days. We took the Barangay clearance and medical clearance to the police station. Again Janet begged, saying we needed the police clearance that day in order to return home. I realized that in this crazy age begging is an important skill. She pointed to me and said “cancer,” I did my best to look pathetic, and they agreed. Within a half hour we had the police clearance.

Now, we could send all that documentation to Valencia and get permission to return. At the same time we asked for permission for me to quarantine at home. This is rare and unusual but we needed to try. We attached my doctor’s letter and to my pleasant surprise they agreed – contingent on a check of our home. “But where will Mrs. Weisbord quarantine?” they asked. “No no. I need her to quarantine with me. She is taking care of me,” which was certainly completely true.

Let me take this moment to state the obvious; that Janet has been incredible throughout all of this. If I ever made a smart move in my life it was marrying her. She stuck by me completely, helped in every way possible and remained a ray of sunshine when all I saw was the blackest of clouds. I love her more than ever!

Let me take another moment to describe the Covid response in Manila. Not only are face masks ubiquitous, so are face shields. You simply can’t enter anywhere without both. This included our hotel. And it seemed like most people complied though of course often the faceshield was propped up on people’s forehead.

Communication is nearly impossible. You have a mask and faceshield on and so does the other person. And there’s a good chance the other person is behind a sheet of plastic. At 68 with poor hearing I yelled “what?” a lot. Trying to communicate important information, such as surgical stuff or getting back home details was an effort in frustration. No wonder most people just use their phone to text or IM.

Signs throughout Manila encourage people to do the right thing. “Mask is the new smile,” one read. Yet the Filipino people are resilient and they seem to manage. Interesting that nearly everyone in Manila was aware that Negros “was strict” because we still maintain a 14 day quarantine. The quarantine in Negros is strict but the faceshield orders – not quite as strict.

In addition, as our 11 days in Manila progressed, more and more locations required a contact tracing app to enter. This was annoying but there was no choice. I know that a few paranoid people speculated at one point that the purpose of the Covid vaccine was to implant a tracking chip into everyone. How ridiculous – there is no need. All they need to do is track your smart phone and I worry that it will never end.

On the positive side, in addition to lots of mall shopping for both of us we ate great. The restaurants at the Shangri-la are excellent and the mall and surrounding areas had dozens of options. In additional I got New York pizza at SBarro. Now back in the US no one would consider SBarro to be excellent New York style pizza but for me it was close enough. In addition, I got to Subway and Wendys to complete the junk food trifecta.

Three days later we were back at the doctor’s office to remove the stitches. She removed the stitches and the truth be told, while there’s lots of healing left to go, the nose did not look that bad.

And the hits keep coming: She gave me my final results, confirming that all the cancer had been removed but there were cancer cells discovered that needed addressing. So after the nose heals in about a month I will need a round of radiation as a precaution.

But the best news within a series of difficult news events is that the City of Valencia gave us permission to quarantine at home. We’re homeward bound and I can’t wait!

Clearly 3 parts to this saga is not enough.

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MY PI CANCER ADVENTURE – Part 2

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Part 1

Part 3

Part 4

Part 5

Part 6

Part 7

Once the decision had been made I acted as quickly as possible. I had an online meeting with the surgeon in Manila. She explained the procedure, quoted the success rate and her staff scheduled the surgery for the following week. This relieved me a little bit since the thing on my nose was noticeably growing almost by the day.

Since Janet had already had one experience leaving Negros Oriental during this pandemic, we were familiar with the process: permission to travel from the Barangay Captain, sign off from the Mayor and the police, and a health document. We had it all in a day or two and I booked a flight. Then the unexpected fun began.

I had promised Janet (and promised myself too) a nice hotel, great restaurants and shopping to compensate for the ordeal. I went onto Agoda and booked a hotel close to the hospital. The next day I got a message from the hotel that they were currently allowing quarantine guests only – guests coming from out of the country and required to quarantine – and therefore my booking was rejected.

I quickly discovered that many hotels in Manila were quarantine only. I was annoyed that none of the hotels published any such information on their websites, nor did Agoda. Others were government approved for “staycations” but those staycations were only available to residents of Metro Manila. I emailed a bunch of hotels and one by one they apologized but would not allow our booking.

I then got the bright idea to book an AirBNB. Perhaps they wouldn’t have the same restrictions. But one by one they too got back to me that they could not accept my booking for a variety of reasons. I was panicking and not thinking straight. Finally I contacted an upscale hotel, the Edsa Shangri-la, and they asked for documentation from my doctor confirming why I had to come to Manila. I submitted my doctors orders and they approved me. I nearly cried in relief and will forever be grateful to the Shangri-la, which is the best damn hotel in Manila!

Janet and I flew to Manila. The process at the Dumaguete airport wasn’t too horrible; just submission of the documents giving us permission to travel. BTW, the Dumaguete airport has never looked so clean! Normally it’s a shabby, dirty little airport. OK it’s still a little shabby, but pretty spotless. The flight to Manila was at most half filled.

Contrary to my usually cheap ways, we paid for the car service from the airport to the hotel. Upon arrival we were escorted to what used to be the hotel’s Spa (now closed), where a rapid test was performed. It was only after our negative test results came through that we were allowed to check in and go to our room.

The next day the real fun began. I was required to have a swab test to perform the procedure, as well as 3 other blood tests, an ECG and a chest X ray, followed by an exam by a cardiologist. I guess they want to make sure that, you know, you’re not going to kick off during the surgery.

The testing procedure at The Medical City in the Ortigas area of Metro Manila, was surprisingly efficient. Fall in line, show the doctor’s orders, pay for the tests, and then get the tests. Within a couple hours I’d had the swab test plus the 5 others completed.

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However I was then told that the cardiologist, whose approval I required, would not be able to see me after 12:00. This meant that we rushed back to the testing area and begged for the results to be given to us early. Fortunately I was able to get all the results (except the swab test) and rushed back to the Cardiologist’s office at 11:45. Naturally blood pressure had to be taken first. “You gotta be kidding. I’ve been running all over for 4 hours. My BP will be off the charts.” And it was! But 5 minutes later, after closing my eyes and breathing deeply and slowly to calm myself, it was closer to normal and the cardiologist saw me. Cool guy who acknowledged when I asked that his practice was way up. “There are Covid deaths and non-Covid deaths caused by the pandemic,” was his simple statement of fact. He certified that my heart was fine for the next day’s procedure, and we breathed a sigh of relief.

At that point we did what anyone unable to travel for a year would do; we hit the local mall! SM Megamall, right around the corner from our hotel, is the 2nd largest mall in the Philippines and 9th largest in the world. This place makes Dumaguete’s Robinsons Mall look like a 7-11. Significant shopping, followed by a nice Japanese dinner occurred, keeping my mind a little bit off the next day’s surgery.

Are we having fun yet?

The next morning we went back to Medical City and proceeded to what was called the Wellness Institute, a suite within the hospital. It was pleasant and upscale and could easily be confused with an American counterpart.

After paperwork, the doctor and her nurses arrived. We asked a few questions and the work began. I am certainly no expert but it all appeared very professionally done. The US-trained doctor had performed thousands of these procedures and it showed. She was very attentive to my comfort and must have asked a dozen times whether I was OK. BTW, the surgery was done with local anesthesia – lots of it.

The surgery was performed and the tumor sent to the lab, which is the advantage of MOHS micro surgery; they can get the results between 30-60 minutes and then decide whether to cut more. In this case I waited over an hour; I was to find out why later.

After a lot of waiting I just padded out to the waiting room in my surgical gown to be with Janet. The doctor arrived and told me she proposed using the skin under my eyes, aka the bags, for the skin graft. Basically I’d be getting two surgeries for the price of one; essentially an eye job. Lol.

What I found out later from Janet was that the doctor was unhappy with the samples the lab sent back and yelled at them over the phone to do it again and do it the way she wanted. Janet told me, “she’s tough.” When the revised samples came back the doctor found a small amount of additional cancer left, requiring another cut.

My doctor then showed me a photo of where the graft would go. I was stunned and for the first time scared and muttered, “Oh my God.” There was a nearly dime-sized circle on the right side of my nose. The reality of what had occurred set in. Janet was wonderful and calmed me down, reminding me that we had acted quickly and done everything possible.

“We won’t be able to use the eye skin. It’s too thin. We’ll have to be a bit creative,” said the doctor, scaring me again. So I got more anesthesia and another cut. That sample came back quickly and the doctor proclaimed there was no more cancer.

The doctor proposed taking skin from under my arm where she said “the skin was a bit sagging.” “I used to have more muscle there, doctor. But my weight lifting days are over.” So more anesthesia, a cut for the graft from the arm, stitching up the arm (first stitches in my life) and stitched the graft to my nose. The doctor proclaimed that the shape of my nose (never a particularly pleasing shape) had been saved.

A gigantic bandage was placed over my nose and the doctor gave us prescriptions and general orders and said she’d see me in 3 days.

At that point, since this is the Philippines, we were left with the need to pay. For those of you who want the numbers, this was not an inexpensive procedure. The doctor’s fee was 70k Pesos. The hospital and lab fees for Medical City were about 39k Pesos. BTW, my doctor also has privileges at a hospital in Makati and I was told that hospital’s fees would have been about double. I have PhilHealth coverage and while many expats complain about the price increase for expats that started a few years ago, PhilHealth paid about 30% of both the doctor and the hospital fees. In addition, the day before, PhilHealth paid for most of the swab test fee. So you will not hear me complaining about Phil Health! In the end I paid out of pocket about 79k plus a little more for the tests from the previous day. Thank goodness the stock market’s climbing.

More to come…

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My PI Cancer Adventure – Part 1

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Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

Part 5

Part 6

Part 7

Early in the pandemic last year I speculated to several friends, “What if you got genuinely sick with something other than Covid? What would you do?” You see, the way the heath care system works in Dumaguete (and similarly throughout the Philippines) is that the local hospitals handle the basics, and so far I have been reasonably impressed with medical care in Dumaguete. But if you need something major – heart surgery or sophisticated cancer treatments, for example – they send you to Manila or Cebu City. No big deal; a quick flight or longer ferry ride. So that was my plan when I moved to the Philippines. Who could have imagined when I made those prognostications, that they would impact me so directly?

I just turned 68 and have been pretty damn healthy my whole life. Not a broken bone or a stitch on my body. Never a surgery other than something that was done to me when I was an infant.

For these reasons it was easy to be somewhat cavalier about my health. Sure, I started going for an annual physical before age 50 but generally in the US that is little more than blood work and taking your vitals.

Nonetheless there are three things I keep some track of and worry a bit about. My PSA test, which checks prostate health (my father and uncle both had prostate cancer and survived it). Secondly, colonoscopies; those fun little things that I have had 4 times already, mostly because I have a brother who died of colon cancer. I am due for my 5th one of these later this year – can’t wait. BTW, if anyone watched the AFI Lifetime Achievement Award given last year to Diane Keaton, Woody Allen did the greatest joke about colonoscopies ever. Go watch it on YouTube. https://youtu.be/S8AAYTDf87Y

And the final area of concern is – my skin. I’m fair skinned, used to be red-headed, and burned often as a kid. As an adult I discovered that sunscreen actually works and became addicted to the highest SPF I could find; usually 100 or more. Because of burns I hated the beach as a kid. Ironic that I would move to the Philippines and now very much like swimming in the ocean.

Nonetheless when I had my last physical exam in the US before moving to the Philippines I asked the doctor about the spots on my face and whether they were just age or what. I don’t think he would have said anything if I hadn’t asked, but I did so he recommended a visit to a dermatologist. So, for the first time in my life I went to a doctor who I believed mostly existed to cut off moles and pop zits. The dermatologist explained that the small spots were pre-cancerous and could readily be removed by freezing them off with liquid nitrogen. It was quick and not too painful. The doctor also took a small sample for a biopsy which came back negative. When I told the doctor that I was moving to the Philippines she recommended finding a dermatologist and getting an annual exam and freezing.

About six months after I arrived in Dumaguete I found a dermatologist and went for a checkup. The office at Tru Dermotologie was clean and upscale, the staff bright and knowledgeable. The doctor, trained in Canada, had me strip and examined all my skin. After that she froze off spots on my face and top of my head, where the red hair used to protect me. All quick and professional, though by Philippines standards a bit pricey. I have come back annually.

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Last year I noticed her office opened and closed often because of Covid. Finally they re-opened in November and I decided I’d better go before they closed again. The routine was the same: strip, examine and freeze off those pesky spots. The total price, between the examination and the spraying, was somewhere close to 7k. Nonetheless I felt good about doing the right thing for myself.

Now, once the spraying is done the spots scab over and the highly attractive scabs take 7-10 days to fall off. But this time there was one on my nose that didn’t seem to want to come off. It looked weird and felt weird for a scab and it grew out of a small bump on my nose that I’d had for perhaps 5 years; something that I’d previously been told was common and not to worry about.

But after a few weeks I did worry and returned to the doctor. “This scab isn’t falling off and seems to be growing,” I said. “It’s not a scab,” she said and gave me a Latin term for what it was.

The next day I returned to have the thing suctioned out. Because of Covid the doctor was dressed in an outfit that covered her head and was sort of a cross between a bee keepers mask and something NASA would have invented. The devices used to suction were modern and sort of reminded me of what you might see in a dentists office. No cutting – just suctioning and then cauterizing the wound left behind. The doctor took material to do a biopsy but touched the area and told me she was pretty confident based on feel that it was not cancer. A sample was sent to the lab and I was told 4-6 weeks to get the results. That didn’t concern me because I was so confident it was nothing.

I should have known that something was very wrong when the results came back in 2 weeks. I went back to the doctor only to be told that the results were inconclusive; it might or it might not be a squamous cell carcinoma. The doctor was torn with whether to ask the lab to do another test. She actually was worried about spending my money or perhaps worried that I would think she was taking advantage of me. I assured her I could afford the tests and to please do whatever was best. In the end she decided I should come back in two weeks by which time the scab would be gone and she could examine the wound and perhaps take another sample of the affected area.

But in 2 weeks the scab was not gone. I had soaked it a couple times a day as asked and even rubbed it to get the scab off. Some of it did come off but then to my dismay it grew back. When I returned in 2 weeks and showed the doctor my nose she knew it was skin cancer. “Don’t we want to get another biopsy?” I asked. “I’m 99% sure,” she said.

We discussed the options. I could get it cut out by a plastic surgeon and perhaps that could be done in Dumaguete or I could go to Manila and have modern microsurgery, called MOHS. “Manila? There’s nowhere else?” I asked. “No.”

The outpatient procedure was explained to me. They take a small slice and exam it under a microscope right then and there. They continue to take tiny slices until there is no more cancer. This is much more effective than the cut off a bunch and hope for the best procedure which a plastic surgeon would do.

The doctor knew I did not want to go to Manila since it would mean quarantining upon our return and poor Janet had just gotten out of quarantine. One thing that is good about me is that when it comes to major decisions which are unpleasant, I don’t hesitate. “I guess we’re going to Manila. What do I do?”

This is Part 1 and there will be more to come. I debated about whether to share this now, when it was all over, or not at all. In the end I opted to share because I fear (and have felt this throughout the pandemic) that there are millions of people who will avoid going to doctors or hospitals and have necessary medical procedures, treatments and tests done. In my jaded opinion this is due to the geniuses telling us what not to do and scaring the crap out of us so we don’t take care of other health concerns. And in some cases doctors and hospitals are flat out closed or not available for non-Covid treatment. Thank goodness my dermatologist was open. My encouragement to all of you is to take care of your health and not just your Covid health!

BTW, I am gonna make this Manila thing a fun holiday with a great hotel and the best restaurants and a serious mall shopping budget. So Janet and I expect to have fun!

Addendum: My purpose here is to: document my experience; describe medical experiences and costs here in the Philippines; and perhaps encourage people to take care of all their health issues. It is not to do a “woe is me” – so if you hear me doing that give me a gentle kick in the ass. Nor should anyone else proclaim “poor Dave and Janet” – or I’ll give you a gentle kick in the ass!

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Horse Drawn Carriage in Intramuros

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https://youtu.be/mnC8G0fbXO8

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Becoming a Filipino Citizen – Again!

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Now, dear readers, if you’ve been following this blog you know that some months back Janet was able to become an American Citizen! That process is expensive, complex and time consuming, but we considered it to be worth it, particularly because of the value of the blue passport we Americans take for granted.

However, one of the stipulations of becoming a US citizen is that you must give up all other citizenships. Therefore Janet was now an American citizen with all the rights and privileges that I have, but she was no longer a Philippines citizen.

But here’s where it gets interesting. Unlike the US, the Philippines does not require you to give up other citizenships. Therefore you can re-acquire your Philippines citizenship, without giving up your US citizenship, thus becoming a dual-citizen. And that was our plan.

Unlike in the US, the Philippines laws, regulations and bureaucracy are a bit less transparent, so it took Janet a while to try to determine what she had to do in order to re-acquire her citizenship. We stopped in the Immigration Office here in Dumaguete, and as expected were told that they could not handle such a request; it had to be done at the main office in Manila.

Calls to the main office in Manila went unanswered but finally Janet did get a response to her emails. So the following is what we learned.

The paperwork is fairly easy and you can download it here: http://www.immigration.gov.ph

What we were interested in was the Petition for Reacquisition of Philippines Citizenship Under R.A. 9225. The form itself is fairly short and simple. However, you cannot just fill it out and send it in. You must go to the main office in Manila.

So, after Janet had put her documentation together; standard stuff including marriage license, US passport and proof of citizenship, birth certificate, etc. we booked a flight and hotel and we were on our way. The Immigration office opens at 8:00 AM and we decided to arrive around 6:00. There were only a couple of people ahead of us but by 8:00 the line was at least 100 people. I’d therefore recommend arriving early. You cannot get an appointment no matter how rich or white you are. It is strictly first come, first serve.

The two couples ahead of us were both foreigners with Filipina wives. One guy, an American and nice enough, had lived in the Philippines many years and therefore thought he ought to impart his wisdom to me, the newbie. I smiled and nodded my head a lot, though as I say, he was certainly nice enough. The 1st guy in line was German and right out of central casting; think Sergeant Schultz, only a lot less funny.
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Once the doors opened (and they actually opened a few minutes early) we were hustled to a line that was essentially a triage area. Some people were there to get or renew visas and there were people there looking to do what Janet was doing. A lady, definitely the bureaucratic type (again think Sergeant Schultz, only less funny) checked Janet’s documentation, gave her a couple forms to fill out, told her to put it all in a folder and come back when she was ready.

Five minutes later we came back and waited, and waited and waited. Finally we were hustled into an office with an Immigration Officer, whose specialty was the re-acquisition of citizenship. She more thoroughly scrutinized Janet’s documents. Of particular interest is a document that Janet and I typed up. Essentially they require an affidavit stating that you have nothing bad hanging over your head under any of your past or current names. The document must be notarized, so Janet and I found a notary the day before,  a couple hours after we arrived in Manila. The notary literally had a desk situated in a restaurant and a couple hundred pesos later we were set. The Immigration Officer looked at our letter closely; later I understood why. Most applicants don’t have the letter and are sent around the corner from Immigration where a large area processes writing and notarizing documents. So, don’t worry; if you don’t have the letter, somebody will write it for you and have it notarized. We still had to go around the corner since they required the form itself to be notarized, for 100 pesos.

BTW, speaking of money, online we read that the fee for the re-acqusition was about 3100 pesos. When we arrived at Immigration it turned out that the fee was closer to 2500; I have no idea what the discrepancy was, maybe the notarization fees.

We returned back to the room to show the finalized documents to the officer. Sitting there was an elderly woman and her daughter and in typical Philippines fashion not only did Janet and the older women strike up a conversation but the Immigration Officer joined in. We found out that the lady’s husband had died, she had become an American citizen through marriage, all the husband’s money was being grabbed by his children from a previous marriage, that the woman was now broke and re-acquiring her Philippines citizenship to avail of some benefits she can get, if she’s a Philippines citizen. The woman’s daughter was stunned that Janet would re-acquire her Philippines citizenship, thus giving up the golden goose (aka the American passport). They all explained to her that Janet did not have to give up her American citizenship; that she would be a dual citizen. They all laughed and had a great time. Try doing that with an Immigration Officer in the US.

There were of course more lines, more approvals and finally Janet was in the payment line. After that she was directed to an office where another 5 women where waiting for exactly what Janet was awaiting; their dual citizenship. All were women and all much older.

Finally all 6 together were in front of an Immigration Officer (a 30ish man). I was looking on – the only husband – I suspect the only husband still alive. It’s not the 1st world so the officer one by one confirmed each person’s name and age. A couple were in their 80s (including the woman whose story we heard). One woman said she was 62. “You look at lot younger,” the Officer said. Janet confirmed her name and age of 29; she was half the age or less of any other woman there. It was obvious that the other women had deceased husbands and were looking to re-acquire their citizenship for whatever benefits Philippines citizenship gives.

They all raised their right hands and took an oath and were told that in 2-3 months (it is the Philippines, after all) they would receive confirmation that their petition was approved and we’d have to come back to Manila to get it.

But for all intents and purposes, our plan, which started five years ago with a K-1 Visa, went through two separate green card applications, an application to become an American citizen and now the application to re-acquire Philippines citizenship, was done. Don’t ask me what the total expense was, since I don’t want to think about it, but really in the end it’s all been worth it. Janet is a citizen of the world and has all the options possible. I’m very proud of her!

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Dodging Bullets at Manila Airport

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The entire expat community, Fil-Am community, hell the entire Philippines is up in arms over the recent scandal at Manila’s NAIA Airport. If you’ve been living under a rock the last couple of weeks let me summarize.

The scam, which currently involves the investigation of 40 NAIA employees, works like this. You’re trying to get out of Manila; and if you’ve ever been in Manila you certainly know why you want to get out. You run your carry-on items through the x-ray machine, as is done at virtually every airport in the world. A bullet is mysteriously found in your carry on. You are in trouble; arrest is imminent. But of course the issue will go away and you can get on your plane and out of Dodge – for the appropriate number of pesos. The scheme is so sophisticated that apparently spotters were employed to pick the best targets. I’m not sure what constitutes an appropriate target; someone who really, really wants to get out of Manila, I suppose.

The scam works because you are rushing. You want to make your plane and get the hell out of NAIA (the reasons for that will soon become apparent); so a few (often more than a few) pesos is easier than the alternative, which usually involves having to stay in Manila.

I suppose one could also makes the case that the scam works because of the culture. I can’t imagine it would work well in the U.S. where the victim would scream bloody murder, police brutality, racial profiling (even if he was white). TSA would likely throw a few bucks in his pocket just to get him to shut up.

But in the Philippines, a country filled with respectful, quiet people, who only shout while singing karaoke, it works.

In addition, and this adds a tricky element to the proceedings, many Filipinos use a bullet as a good luck charm. In fact 4 people were arrested just yesterday at NAIA for bullets in their carry ons and 3 of the 4 readily admitted they were theirs. One of those arrested said, “It is just stupid to put people in jail for having one or two bullets.” No harm, no foul 🙂

———-

Now, NAIA has consistently been ranked as the worst airport in the world. Poll after poll over the years have deemed it a complete pit. If you have every been in Terminal 1 or 2 you know why. Collapsing floors, leaking ceilings, long lines, limited seating areas, lousy food, overpriced taxis, and for us foreigners the final shocking indignity – lousy wifi service.

But a strange thing happened recently. The airport improved (well a little) and this year dropped our of the top 10 (bottom 10, really). Terminal 3 is a big part of the improvement. You can actually sit, there’s a passenger lounge, there is edible food, and you can buy high end perfumes there. They’re even trying to improve seating in Terminal 1.

So here’s my theory. Some higher up type was upset by dropping out of the number 1 spot; they were proud at being number 1 at something, even being number 1 worst. Heads were going to roll. Surely, the world had to once again recognize NAIA for the shithole it really is.

It’s amazing what a few planted bullets can do. Is there any doubt which airport will head the worst list in 2016?

But this blog isn’t about airports or surveys or travel conditions. It’s about being married to a Filipina. So, let’s get to the important stuff.

Janet has been infuriated about this scandal, which in her view is a black stain on all Filipinos. Janet is a simple Pinay and believes in a simple solution for the perpetrators of this dastardly scheme – death.

“They should be shot!” she’s yelled often.

“Well, arrested but not…”
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“Shot. That’s the only solution.” Apparently Presidential Candidate Duterte has found his running mate in Janet.

So, now that we have solved what should be done to the perpetrators, Janet brainstormed about what was best the next time we travel to the Philippines.

“We will put locks on all our carry ons,” she stated.

“Kinda hard with my camera bag.” I always travel with a nondescript camera bag for camera, accessories plus anything else I want to bring on board the plane.

I did actually make the mistake of packing a camera in my luggage one time, when I was younger and dumber, worrying that it was too easy to steal out of a standard carry on. The luggage lock was broken and the camera stolen. Fortunately this was not a trip to the Philippines otherwise you’d all be up in arms over the baggage scandal. So now I have a camera bag that doesn’t look like a camera bag and there are flaps and pouches – not good for padlocks.

Janet was not to be deterred. “We can wrap our carryons in plastic. Tight so they cannot be opened.”

“Well for me the purpose of a carry on is to be able to get into it. So wrapped in plastic wouldn’t work for me.” The kano was clearly being difficult.

I tried to reason with my lovely wife. I explained that travel, especially international travel does have some risk, but that overall we are careful, work hard to minimize risk, and have so much fun traveling that it’s worth the risk. And then I added, “There is one major item that you are not considering in this discussion, darling. We don’t fly out of Manila. We never fly out of Manila.”

She had an answer. “They could start doing it in Cebu.” Apparently the bullet scam is franchising.

Addendum: The current rumor (maybe more than a rumor) is that the 3 arrested Filipinos who admitted to having a bullet or two on them were a set up designed to show that most of those detained were legitimate. All I know is this is much more fun than American scammers who generally wear suits and whose henchmen are the ones carrying the bullets.

 

 

 

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Manila is a S*ithole and Other Words of Wisdom

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I just got a great email from a reader preparing for his first trip to the Philippines to meet his girlfriend, who he hopes to someday marry. I realized in answering his questions how much basic information people struggle with about visiting the Philippines (or any international travel for that matter) and marrying a Filipina.

At the same time, I am on a variety of Philippines-related forums and sometimes  roll my eyes at the debates and misinformation spewed out there. It suddenly occurred to me that visitors to these sites, seeking information are making a fundamental mistake in their approach – they aren’t simply skipping the middle man and contacting me first 🙂

Therefore I thought I would write the 1st in a potential series of what in my industry would be called “core dumps” about traveling to the Philippines, meeting your girl and her family, and surviving to tell the tale. I’ll end with a mini traveling tip.

1. Manila is a Shithole: Yes, you’ve heard it here first. Manila is all the stereotypes it is famous for. It’s dirty, polluted, the traffic is insane, it’s expensive by Philippines standards, taxis are nuts, beggars are everywhere, and the people are…well you get the idea; I don’t much care for the place. Now I know a few guys who like the city, and no doubt there are Filipina readers who were raised in Manila – and to those I apologize – but I won’t amend my statement.

Yes, Manila has an international airport (one of the worst rated in the world) and some high end malls, there are some neighborhoods that are better than others, and there are plenty of clubs for those of you into “clubbing” (wink-wink). Nonetheless, if you are a Westerner and visiting the Philippines for the 1st time (or the 10th time), unless your fiancé lives in Manila, avoid it like the plague. I see constant postings by guys who went to the Philippines, hung out in Manila and Angeles, hated the place, and complained at the fools who had advised them that the Philippines was a glorious, tropical country filled with wonderful Pinays. It is glorious – except for Manila – you have been warned.

2. You’re not in Kansas anymore, Toto: Americans (and that’s what I am, so I’m gonna hit it from that POV) do very little International traveling (Canada and Mexico don’t count, so don’t make me come over there and smack you) and we know nothing (and care even less) about the differences in various cultures. Don’t let the Philippines fool you. Yes, most Filipinos speak some English, know something about and love American culture, and the women will claim they love you the first time they see your pasty white guapo visage. But the Philippines ain’t America. Nothing they do will be done in the way you do it or Americans do it. I mean nothing! BTW, in my opinion this is often a good thing. But most guys can’t handle it. Adapt or die, cause it starts the moment you get off the plane. Want to have a happy vacation or a successful start with your new love? Assume nothing will be as you know it. You have landed on Mars. If you can make this leap, you have a chance to be successful; and a chance to fall in love with the Philippines. If not, you’re toast.

3. Not every Filipino is out to take advantage of you: OK, let me amend this; some Filipinos are out to take advantage of you. By comparison to the average Filipino you are Donald Freaking Trump, a billionaire with unlimited amounts of money – money that they hope to get a tiny taste of. Is this really so unusual? I owned a service business for many years and when a guy walked into my office wearing a $1k suit I knew it was gonna be a good day. I quickly pulled out my top of the line stuff and added a few bucks to the standard price, just because…well just because he could pay it and I was a poor working stiff.

Last year Janet and I were in Dumaguete. We ended up in a terrible argument about an overpriced trike ride, each assigning blame to the other for the fact that we had obviously been overcharged. Finally I calmed down and said to her, “Do you realize we are arguing about a ride that cost us $6?”

We went downstairs and asked the front desk clerk how much trike rides cost in Duma and from then on only paid the standard rate. Knowledge is power and it’s your responsibility to know how things work. So don’t be a dumbass, and if you get beat out of a few pesos, grin and bare it – and learn.

But I guess the real take away should be that if you assume everyone exists in the Philippines to take advantage of you – you’re gonna have a lousy time. Enjoy yourself. Any way you look at it your vacation’s gonna be a lot cheaper than almost anywhere you could go in the 1st world; and the view (both tropical and female) is gonna be a hell of a lot better.

4. There’s No Political Correctness in the Philippines: It’s surprising, sometimes off putting and often refreshing, but expect Filipinos to tell you directly what they think when it comes to other people and cultures. Your gf/wife will tell you she loves white skin, doesn’t like people with darker skin (including her own). You will hear references to person X, followed by “he’s a gay.” It’s not meant as an insult; just a point of information.

If someone is a bit overweight, you won’t hear references to glandular or hormonal issues; they’ll be called fat. Last night, as Oscar winner, Patricia Arquette, made her impassioned speech, Janet said what millions of others thought but wouldn’t dare say – “she’s getting fat.”

Filipinas are unlikely to understand you when you refer to African-Americans, Mexican-Americans, Native Americans, etc. They will just say “he’s black.” Or more likely they will say, “I’m black,” or “I’m too black,” and look very sad in saying so. Respond by saying you like black – black is good, devils food cake tastes yummier than angel food cake, and you will have a very good time.
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5. Family is everything: Now, many expats in the Philippines and men married to Filipinas say this in a negative way, but that’s not how I mean it. You probably wanted a woman with traditional values, didn’t you? That means family is central; they’re Leave it to Beaver with a Filipino accent, and Lumpy Rutherford is a little less well-nourished.

When you meet your gf/wife’s family you ought to check out how she treats her parents. That’s how she’s gonna treat you someday. Or, if you’re like me, and are older than her parents – that’s how she’s gonna treat you right away!

Now compare your relationship with your family at home – and enjoy the difference.

Remember, if you do the right thing, very soon you will be part of the family as well, and will be treated accordingly. And no, I am not just referring to being asked to kick in money, although that’s a sometime part of family life.

The first time I visited Janet’s family in Alcoy her younger brother attempted to take my bag and carry it for me. Since in the US we are independent and an older guy like me might consider it an insult, assuming I could not schlep my own bag – I politely refused, telling him that I was fine. He was confused, later asking Janet why I refused his help. I was looking at the whole thing though my American eyes; I sure as hell don’t expect my teens to help with a bag – and they don’t.

Janet waited a month or two before mentioning that her brother was surprised at my refusal. I realized it was a point of respect he was showing me, so from that point on I decided for subsequent trips to act feeble and let him help. Frankly, the whole family treats me wonderfully and it makes me wish for more of the same in my home country.

6. Today’s mini traveling tip: Carry lots of small bills or coins. I know, I know – you’re a rich kano who doesn’t want to be bothered carrying anything less than a 1000 peso note. Be bothered. The little store you want to buy a coke in, or the taxi driver you want to give a 20P tip to will not have change and then you will have to scurry around to find some change or get frustrated and overpay, thus being pissed off at getting cheated again. And if you are in Manila or Cebu and encounter a child looking for a coin – give one to him. It won’t kill you; you might even feel good about yourself. So carry lots of small stuff and leave most of the big bills at the hotel.

P.S. If you were offended by the title of this piece, I again apologize. You ought to realize by now that this is how I try to suck you in, right 🙂

An Update: It’s official! Manila is not a complete shithole. In-n-Out Burger comes to Manila.

 

 

 

 

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Don’t Mess With the Janet

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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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 🙂

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How to Give Your Filipina Wife a Great Christmas?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

 

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The K-1 Visa & the 90-Day No Fault Marriage

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I get asked by my friends, relatives and perfect strangers about the process of a foreigner coming to America (what – didn’t they see the Eddie Murphy movie) and getting married. I can’t tell you how many people asked the following: “Why don’t you just fly Janet over here for a month or two so you can get to know each other better?” Shit, why didn’t I think of that!

There’s tons of information available on obtaining Visas and getting married in the land of milk and honey (OK, that’s Israel, but you get the idea) but none of that information will give you the real scoop on what happens, the hows, and the pain, joy and hysteria involved. So, I will!

As Americans we forget that one of our greatest freedoms is that little blue thing we’re issued (not Viagra – get your head out of the gutter – I mean a U.S. passport). You can go everywhere with it, other than Cuba. It’s essentially a “Get Out of Jail Free Card” (for some people literally). But most countries don’t have that sort of freedom and if you are from most of the countries on the planet, the United States is not thrilled to have you arrive here.

So, if you’re a Philippines citizen what do you do? Yes, there are educational visas and work visas but the process is lengthy, expensive and in the end rarely do you get permission. Or you can be a sibling of a naturalized American citizen, which means we’ll see you here somewhere around 2050, give or take a decade. Or say you are one of those middle class Filipinos I’ve previously discussed. Why not get a tourist visa; Americans can get one to almost any country in the world. Well, you’re not an American. In order to get a tourist Visa you have to prove beyond any doubt that you will visit the US – and leave. By the time you might get that tourist visa they’ll be filling in the Grand Canyon. In short, unless you are the rare Filipino politician or fat cat, there is no way for the average Filipino(a) citizen to get here.

But there is the fiancé or spousal visa process. No problem; fill out some paperwork, send in some money, and bang, boom in six months or so you’re here. Easy, right? Um, not exactly.

But there is the fiancé or spousal visa process. No problem; fill out some paperwork, send in some money, and bang, boom in six months or so you’re here. Easy, right? Um, not exactly.

First, there’s the paperwork process which is Draconian. Any mistake, even of the most minor nature, and the paperwork will get kicked back. Janet and I spent hours and days online scouring every line of the paperwork for any mistake. Now, I was a technical writer at the time, pretty damn good at preparing accurate documentation, but the stress of trying to get everything perfect got to me. And even if it’s perfect, the USCIS has the occasional habit of simply losing one of the dozens of documents you submitted – and then blaming you.

How about money? I’m a software engineer with a good income (far more than I’m worth); so I figured, no problem. Wrong. By the time you’re all done, it will put a serious strain on most budgets. Speaking of money, you have to prove to the USCIS that you, the petitioner, make 125% of the current U.S. poverty line. So make sure you don’t lose your job during the process or it might be a do-over. For that matter, many self-employed men who make very good money, don’t qualify because, how should I put this, their true income is not reflected on their tax returns. Their sweet, naïve fiancé, travels to Manila for the grueling embassy interview and finds out her fiancé does not make enough to qualify for the Visa. It happens every day.

Oh and speaking of Manila, once your initial paperwork is approved, you are able to schedule your embassy interview in Manila. And prior to that you must take a medical exam. Now that doesn’t mean you go to your local doctor and have him listen to your heart or cough a couple times. It means you go to St. Lukes Hospital in Manila (the only accepted facility in the entire country) for a two day (yes, you heard that right) two day exam. And if they find anything wrong with your young fiancé, let’s say a shadow on the lung, she gets to spend another glorious six months in beautiful downtown Manila for TB treatment and a re-testing. Janet had never had any serious or even semi-serious illness in her life, but was terrified by the medical exam, as well as the half dozen shots she needed. And let’s not forget that to even get said examination, you must arrive early at St. Lukes and take a number; Janet arrived at 2:30 AM. Is this all still sounding easy?

But wait there’s more: the Philippines requires the prospective émigré to take a class and get interviewed by the CFO. This interview is often tougher than the embassy interview. After all, the U.S. embassy mostly wants to ensure that everything is legal and on the up and up. The CFO tells the girls about all the terrible things that can happen abroad and the interviewer questions why the girl wants to go. In our case, after the CFO interview, Janet contacted me panicked because she hadn’t yet been approved. The CFO Officer had doubts and wanted to see Janet again. Why? Because Janet was young and pretty and marrying old codger, Dave. How to prove to the officer that our relationship was legitimate? Janet left her tons of photos of the two of us together, email and text correspondence and was simply told to come back and the officer would decide.

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In the end Janet got through the Visa process! I promised I would fly in and take her home with me. What I hadn’t considered was, would the actual physical Visa be ready by the time we were ready to fly out. Janet arranged for the Visa to be shipped to a To Go location, sort of like Fed-Ex in the Philippines. Unfortunately, they failed to contact her when the visa arrived and it sat for days. Finally they contacted her and told her that if she didn’t pick it up by the next day it would be sent back to Manila. So Janet and her sister hopped on a bus for the leisurely, fun-filled 3 hour bus ride from Alcoy to Cebu, got the Visa and returned by bus to Alcoy. Easy and stress free – right?

But now comes the truly easy part – we’ve finally arrived in the U.S. for 90 days of fun and sun. There’s even a reality show currently running, “90 Day Visa,” all about the thrilling escapades of these wacky couples. The show, like most reality TV, is entertaining bullshit.

Now I tend to be a planner; I’m older and allegedly mature. Before Janet arrived, I tried to project a budget for everything I could think of; the wedding; clothes she would need (no fleece jackets are needed in the Philippines); and just daily life changes.

Here’s what Janet (with my assistance) had to do in those 90 days: get used to a brand new city; check out the malls, public transportation (yes, of course, all Filipinos know how to use light rail); grocery shopping; finding the best local Asian stores; finding lechon; finding a Filipino restaurant; getting used to a new, and badly organized house; getting used to an old, and badly aging husband to be. Also, those 90 days gave me the opportunity to leisurely explain to Janet how everything works in the United States. And let’s not forget language. Despite the fact that Janet’s English is very good, speaking American English 24-hours a day is exhausting and her nose was bleeding constantly.

Which reminds me – I wanted to find her friends. So, before she arrived I hooked up with a Fil-Am group whose events we began to attend, which not only helped her make friends, it gave us a support system for the wedding.

Oh, that’s right – the wedding. That has to happen in those 90 days too. I had planned to have it in our backyard, which is a good sized space. Before Janet arrived I spent weeks cleaning out the yard and trying to get things semi-ready. It was a losing proposition. Finally, one day my neighbor (who has the showplace yard of the neighborhood) leaned over our fence and asked me how the wedding preparations were going – and most importantly, “Hey, would you like to use our yard for the wedding?” I couldn’t say yes fast enough.

Also, understand that women are women all over the world, which meant that when Janet arrived she needed to choose rings, flowers, food, a cake, decorate the house, etc. The day of our outdoor wedding, September 22nd, it rained. Hell, it’s Oregon; of course it rained. But Janet was determined. We got a ten minute break in the weather and did the wedding then. Afterwards, the reception, which was also supposed to be outdoors, was crammed into our home.

In the end it all happened, it all worked, and Janet and I survived it. It’s a story to tell – well maybe not to the grandkids – but to all of you. I’d do it again in a heartbeat – with Janet that is.

Easy peasy, right?