E.R. and There

Last night I had to take my wife, Cynthia, to the E.R. Nothing serious, really but her rashes from an allergic reaction had become unbearable and worrisome. The nearest hospital to our home was the Quezon Memorial Medical Center (QMMC). It being a government-run hospital my expectations were, to be honest, quite low. Imagine my surprise at the efficiency we experienced.


As soon as we entered, we were greeted by the receptionist and asked to sign in the logbook. He then ushered us to the registrar (sitting next to him). He advised me to take care of the registration of the patient while he led Cynthia directly to the Physician on Duty. Based on Cynthia's description of how she felt and looking at her red rashes, Dr. Bayani decided that a shot of epinephrine was necessary. A minute later the attending nurse gave Cynthia the prescribed injection. We thought that was it but the doctor suggested Cynthia to stay put (she was sitting in front of her) for further observation because the medicine might cause some palpitations and/or tremors. About half an hour later and my wife not feeling any side effects, the good doctor gave us the discharge order. She handed us the bill and asked us to proceed to the cashier. Looking at the bill we were amazed that she only charged us P300 for the medicine! No doctor's fees nor consultation fees! And because Cynthia had her Senior Citizen's ID card with her, the final bill came down to P240 (about $5.60)!!


Admittedly the facilities were not as you would expect an Emergency Room to be in terms of equipment  and privacy. Being a government hospital most of the patients being brought in are mostly indigent. Yet I never saw any discrimination even when more affluent patients were admitted.


One day later and Cynthia was feeling a lot better with most of the rashes having disappeared already. Per Dr. Bayani's advice, my wife needs to continue with her medication (anti-histamine pills) for the next five days just to make sure that the allergic reaction completely goes away.


In the U.S. when a patient goes to the E.R. would be asked to wait, unless in a life-threatening situation, while he or she gets registered which includes verifying if he or she has medical insurance, usually taking an average of an hour.  


Needless to say, we were very pleased with our experience with a Philippine government-run E.R. facility.  May I say again that we only spent $5.60. I think that's hard to beat.

The Ennui Within

It's been a month since I last went birding. That was in Kota Kinabalu. Since then it had been a series of unfortunate setbacks that more or less confined me within the walls of our home. It's not that my wife and I haven't been going out. It was just that those outings were mainly to church on Sundays and to run various errands (grocery shopping, laundry, taking our car to the shop, etc. etc). Then there were days of constant rain parenthesized by hot, humid weather. As if these were not enough, the current economic problems in America caused the value of the dollar to dip making my already meager pension to shrink even more. Please note that generally speaking, birding isn't cheap here in the Philippines. Most birding places are at some distance from our home which means 1) consuming lots of gasoline (the price of which had gone up lately) 2) paying toll fees and 3) eating out.  With that scenario, our financial situation even got further dented by the costly repair on our vehicle - something we later realized could have been resolved in a much cheaper way. *Sigh* Lessons learned though. Going forward we will never have our car checked at the "casa" (the dealer) again.


Pardon the rant. I just needed to get those out of my chest.


Due to the above stated reasons, my birding activities had been put on hold or rather restricted to my hard drive. With no light at the end of the tunnel yet, it seems. Weather is still fickle and the dollar apparently continuing to plunge. Between my morning and evening prayers here I am trying to battle the onset of ennui thru the aid of my computer (thank God for the internet!). Passing the time watching some quotidian k-pop music videos in between my visits to Facebook and Google+. Or occasionally watching those English-subtitled Korean drama series. (Oh Lord, what has become of me?)


Things better start changing soon. 


Or I might change my name to Hu Em Hai.

Walk Walk Country Club

I did it! Now I truly belong!


Ever since we retired here in the Philippines back in March of this year I have observed and often commented to my wife about how Filipinos loved to walk. No matter what time of day (or even night) people walk. From toddlers to octogenarians, I've seen them walking along streets, roads and highways! When we go birding we leave at around 4 am and we would pass by some remote town and we would see people walking! And I would always ask, "What is it with these people that they walk?" I don't think that there is a dearth in public transportation, not with all those tricycles, jeepneys and buses plying every route possible. Lack of transportation money, perhaps? But fares are not that expensive. Seven pesos (about 16 cents) can take a passenger from point A to point B in a jeepney. Why people walk here in this country is still a big mystery to me.

(photo courtesy of balita.ph)

Until this morning when I had to take my car to the shop for its regular maintenance service. The service center agent told me that my car will be done probably around 3 pm so I had no choice but to go back home.  It was a little after 8 am and I was considering my options: I don't like taking a taxi since it would be too short a trip and the driver might not like that idea anyway. I looked at the jeepneys plying the route and noticed that they were all full and even had two or more "sabits" (hangers) it being the morning rush hour. I was now left with option number 3 which was..walking! The weather wasn't that hot and I wasn't really in a hurry, so why the heck not? After all, people here in the Philippines do it all the time.

But I cheated. A McDonalds along the way tempted me to stop by and "refresh" myself with some Filipino breakfast of sausage and fried rice. And dark roasted coffee. Fifteen minutes later I was quite invigorated and ready to resume my trek. Surprisingly, it seemed to pass rather quickly, what with all those people walking along the same route with me. Actually the toughest part was after I entered the gates of our subdivision. It was an upward climb for the last 150 meters inasmuch as our home is near the top of an incline. I was already sweating like a hog on a midsummer day when I opened the door. But I was happy. Why? Because I made it! I walked for almost two kilometers and I made it! I am now officially a member of the Walk Walk Country Club.

Dancestastic

There was a slight drizzle as we stepped out of the car. As we entered the Blue Ridge 2 Barangay Hall, Cynthia and I were surprised at how that place was spruced up for the event that we were attending. Chairs and tables were decked in white linen adorned with lovely pink ribbons. A tall vase with an exquisite long stemmed bloom punctuated each table top. An enticing buffet table sprawled at the right side of the hall. We could hear soft music from the combo that was warming up by the left side of the stage.

At exactly six pm, the birthday celebrant walked in. We stood up and were the first to greet my co-alumni of Arellano High School, class '62 and dear friend, Lilian Castro nee Lopez. Soon other guests started pouring in. The combo started singing standards that were popular during our salad days. Twenty minutes after her arrival, Lilian welcomed and thanked her well wishers and promised an evening of fun and dancing. Her friend and Cynthia's former boss (whom she hasn't seen in a long while - small world indeed), Sally Fernando, blessed the gathering with a prayer. Lilian then requested that each table send a representative to say something about the celebrant. Our co-alumni, Ester Dijamco, spoke in our behalf as she reminisced her high school and college times with her dear friend.

Then the buffet. It was lavish - both a feast for the eyes and a gastronomic delight. White rice and carbonara pasta went along with Chicken Cordon Bleu, Lengua, Breaded Fish Fillets, Pork Barbecues on a stick and Waldorf Salad. Dessert was Fruit Salad and lusciously sweet Leche Flan. Iced tea complemented the culinary fare.

After dinner came the dancing. The tables in the middle of the hall were removed to provide space for the evening's terpsichores. To get things started there was an Argentine Tango exhibition followed by a fiery Flamenco solo. Lilian then declared, "Everybody dance!". Slowly, the floor began to fill with swinging dancers. Being the only male around who was not a DI (Dance Instructor) I felt a bit underqualified to join the others in swaying to rock-and-roll music. Cynthia, on the other hand, couldn't resist the beat and hailed one of the DI's. Soon they were off and dancing.

Also sharing our table, aside from Ester, were three lady friends of Lilian who were all Eastwood residents. One of the them, Tita Siony, also an ex-pat retiree like ourselves, took a liking on us (perhaps as kindred spirits) and shared with us her life stories. She was also among the first to hit the dance floor. After doing the boogie for a good ten minutes, Cynthia returned to our table, a bit out of breath. Tita Siony, meanwhile, kept on dancing through the various genres that the combo played. Did I mention that she's 84 years old?

At one point, Lilian asked, no, forced, me to dance the Samba with her, a dance I absolutely do not know how to execute. She encouraged me to just follow the rhythm. As I embarrasingly started to swing my hips to the feverish beat of the samba, Lilian was called by her in-laws for some important business. Gratefully and much relieved, I returned to our table.

No Filipino dance party is complete without an Electric Slide Line Dancing. I thought my knee can handle this so together with Ester and another co-alumni (Cora del Prado-Lim, who was delayed in coming to the party by the now heavily-pouring rain), we joined the fray. Cynthia decided to sit this one out.

As the evening mellowed into night, so did the music. When the combo started playing the Rumba, Cynthia and I were ready. Despite being the only "amateur" male dancer on the floor, I cherished having to finally being able to dance with my wife. Nevermind the simplicity of our steps and even some miscues, I was dancing with my life partner - and that's all that mattered to me.


The time came when Lilian had to blow the candles on her cake. When asked what she wished for on her birthday, she replied, "I just wish that my dear, departed husband, Jun, would lay beside me tonight." Not a few tears fell as we all felt Lilian's deep love that remained long after the object of her affection had gone on to be with God.

The party slowly came to a close. As Cynthia and I floated back to our car, we couldn't help but admire Tita Siony - the 84-year old lady who outdanced everyone on the floor. And thanks to our friend, Lilian, the birthday celebrant, and generous host, for making us starry-eyed on a rainy night.

Healthy Oh

Yesterday was a dry run. Gingerly I eased myself into the driver's seat of our vehicle. No pain on the left knee. So far so good.  I started the engine and slowly moved the vehicle forward. Once around the block and everything felt fine. "OK, let's go, " my wife said encouragingly. Off we went to Ortigas Center primarily to attend the 8:30 service at Victory Christian Fellowship and then to hang around the mall for a while. (Cynthia promised me lunch at Iceberg - one of my favorite dining places at Galleria). When we got home later that day, my wife wanted to know how my left knee reacted to a whole morning of driving/walking/sitting. "It feels okay!", I told her truthfully.


Monday morning was the real test. I will be driving along with the morning traffic and then I will have to endure standing for long periods of time. That is because we will be going to the Land Transportation Office (LTO) in Pasig to renew the registration of our vehicle. I was dithering the night before, afraid that transacting with a government office would wreak havoc not only on my weak knee but on my nerves as well. But this is something that had to be done. 


After paying the P20 parking fee, we were immediately ushered to the inspection area, where a stencil of the VIN was taken. Mang Eddie, the Inspector's Aide assigned to us, was very helpful and helped us through each step in the renewal process. He even suggested some remedy for my knee when he learned about its condition. 


We were informed that we need to get a Third Party Liability (TPL) Insurance despite us telling them that we do have a comprehensive coverage - which, of course, already includes TPL. That cost us P980 which we thought was reasonable. While Cynthia was waiting for the policy to be finished (it was being typed on the spot using a manual typewriter) I, on the other hand, was waiting for the emission test (costing P430). After about an hour, just as the policy was about to be finished, they called me and the emission test was done on our XTrail (which passed with flying colors). Next was submitting all the paperwork to the Evaluator. "Just wait for your name to be called", we were advised. Again, close to an hour had passed when Cynthia's name was finally called. That means it was now time to pay the registration fees (around P2500) and obtain the 2010 stickers afterwards.


As I mentioned before, I had a certain degree of skepticism when dealing with government offices, but our experience here at the LTO somehow changed that. The time spent in waiting (at the emission test center and at the Evaluator) was due to sheer volume and not of bureaucracy. I remember in the 60's and 70's that nothing will get accomplished unless you hired a "fixer" - someone who will expedite the paperwork because of their "connections" at that office. This morning, I was amazed that they no longer allow such individuals at their premises. I also understood that offices are still "low-tech" albeit for a good purpose. Government offices (not just the LTO - we've seen this at the Bureau of Immigration as well) would rather use manpower (and therefore providing jobs to more people) than computerize the whole process (and deprive a number of Filipinos of work). My wife and I also observed that the employees now are more helpful and have better work ethics than those of several decades in the past.


As we drove home, my wife can't help but notice the smile on my face. "My knee feels great!", I explained. "Not only that", I continued, "I am happy that now our government workers have a healthier attitude towards their jobs." 


And we are all for the better because of that.

Silver and Old

My wife and I have been dragging our feet for the longest time with regards to obtaining a Senior Card. Despite constant reminders from family and "contemporaries", we just couldn't find time to do it. Especially with all the moving and the settling in that we had to do since arriving in the Philippines more than two months ago.

Until finally on that rainy morning on the first day of June we were ready to do it. Armed with the needed documents and 3 pieces each of 1"x1" photos, we marched triumphantly into the information desk at the Quezon City Hall. We asked the nice guy at the desk where the office for applying for Senior Cards was. He gave us a quick once-over and tactlessly said, "You're applying for a Senior Card just now?" We were too shocked to reply to what we perceived was a rather insulting remark. Was it my silvery hair that prompted that comment? Maybe. But Cynthia was with me and he was obviously referring to both of us. Do we really look THAT old? was the thought that burned in our minds. So flabbergasted were we that we failed to give the reasonable "Better late than never" reply. Or the truth- "We just arrived from the States", or even a more dramatic, "We got caught in the traffic of life's roads" (Natrapik kami sa daan ng buhay). No, we merely smiled and waited for this speak-without-thinking person to point us to where we need to go.

The personnel at the office responsible for issuing Senior Cards were a direct contrast to the Information Desk staff. Ma'am Carmen and Ma'am Leony were both personifications of grace and efficiency. In just about 30 minutes Cynthia and I were holding in our hands our "ticket" to discounts galore and even free movies! Just to give our cards a "road-test" we had lunch at Banapples (not exactly the cheapest restaurant along Katipunan). We were ecstatic that we were given a 20% discount from our total bill! We both concurred that this is something we can get used to.

Now why on earth did we wait this long to get this valuable piece of laminated card? The information desk guy may have a point after all: "You're applying for a Senior Card just now?"

I Scream - A moving story

Cynthia and I finally found a place to stay. For the past couple of weeks we've been searching high and low for a home. At first we thought we got what we're looking for at Las Villas in Valle Verde 2. We liked the place and the rent is reasonable. We made an agreement to return the following day to sign the contract and make the necessary payments. That night, however, we got a call from the administrator that there was a "problem". Apparently the ex-husband of the owner, who still has legal rights to the property did not want it rented out, or if it did, that he will get all the proceeds.

We continued our search and we soon narrowed it down to two choices: a condo at Crissanta Tower which is located across the Valle Verde Country Club, and the other, an apartment in St. Ignatius Village. It was a tough choice - the condo a bit pricier but more spacious and has excellent parking area and security, the apartment, a bit cozier and has a great layout. So we prayed about it and agreed that if the St. Ignatius property was still available after our trip to Singapore then that would be it.

And indeed that was it. As soon as we finalized the contract and paid our dues, came the task of furnishing our new abode. We had no idea then that it would be a hair-pulling, patience-trying experience. SM Megamall had a sale that weekend and we thought that it might be a good idea to buy most of our furniture there. Big mistake! You would think that a store as popular and as ubiquitous as SM would be efficient in dealing with its customers. Based on our experience, obviously not so. First they still the used the old "bait-and-switch" trick. It happened to is twice on the same day. Cynthia was negotiating for a refrigerator while I was trying to pick out a bedframe. On both occasions, they told us the items we picked were out-of-stock (not right away, but when we are already lined up ready to pay) and so we had to return to our respective departments, where in both cases they recommended another, albeit more expensive, item. At this point my wife and I were both worn out so we agreed on their recommended items with nary an argument from us.  Note that all these happened in a span of about two hours. Then came the payment part. Cynthia used her credit card and specifically told the cashier that it would be a straight (not installment) charge. An hour passed and my wife was wondering why her transaction still have not been processed. When she found the cashier, who disappeared after receiving Cynthia's credit card, the cashier explained that she was trying to get an approval because the credit card was still new and did not have a history of purchases. Finally, after another half hour or so, the payment went through.

At the other side of the store, I was also lined up to pay some of the smaller furnishings that we bought. After scanning the price on my first item, they had a shift change! My cashier had to log off, account for her previous transactions and then turned over the machine to the incoming cashier, who in turn had to log in, account for cash in the till and at last turned to me and told me she had to scan my first item again (which was already wrapped-so they had to unwrap it and start the procedure all over again)! This procedure took almost an hour!

Because of all this hassle, we had to pay P100 for parking instead of the usual P40 had the employees been more efficient and handled our transactions in much less time. As we got into our vehicle, Cynthia and I both let out a blood curdling scream to vent all the frustrations and exasperation and anger that we felt but were unable to express towards those who actually deserved them.

Oh, Oh, Heaven - Licensed to Kill....

....those suicidal bugs that smash themselves on windshields of moving cars.

Actually, today I got my Philippine Driver's License!! Today, I can now officially take part in the nerve-wracking, physically-exhausting, mind-boggling chaos that is also known as manila traffic. Today I felt that I truly belong to my country, the Philippines. For me, getting my driver's license is not unlike getting to heaven after a laborious life on earth. :D

At first, things did not augur well...it was raining as we left the house early morning - the first time it did since we arrived last month. Then, Paul, our contact person, the one who would guide us through the tedious process of converting my California license into a local one, was more than 30 minutes late for our appointment. As we arrived at the LTO (Land Transportation Office - the Philippine version of the DMV) the rain has let up temporarily and the heat and humidity triggered an outpouring of sweat that bordered on the incredible. We were ushered to a tiny shack where a urine sample was taken from me and Cynthia (she would be renewing her license which expired 5 years ago) and then another shack next door for the "physical' exam which involved our blood pressure being taken and stepping on a weighing scale. Next was an eye test which I failed -because I forgot to bring my eyeglasses with me - but the examiner said not to worry about it. After the tests, Paul informed us that Cynthia needed to take a written exam again before another license can be issued her. Noticing the very long queue of would be exam takers, Cynthia decided to forgo renewing her license, claiming she would just be too stressed to drive again anyway. For me, it was sort of downhill from here..submitting my application with copies of my passport and California License, waiting to be called, getting my picture and signature taken, waiting to be called, paying for license, waiting to be called, getting my picture and signature taken (again!!), waiting to be called, and finally getting my very own, bona fide, Philippine Driver's License.

Watch out you flying insects, here I come!........after I get out of the traffic, that is.

Pour Sweatings and a Funeral

Even before I came here, I have mentally prepared myself for Philippine weather. I know it's going to be hot and humid. Even more so in summer..and summer begins in March in this country. But no amount of mental readiness could prepare me for the overwhelming blast of the heat on my physical being. I mean the moment I stepped out of a cold shower, I sweat. Profusely. Now imagine being out on the streets, under a full summer sun and amidst the smoke from the tailpipes of a thousand public vehicles..almost all of which run on diesel engines. Sweat would literally pour out of your skin.

Unfortunately, Cynthia and I occasionally had to walk on the streets and even ride on these public vehicles. One such instance was Wednesday, April 7th. I just learned the sad news that one of my classmates in high school, Juanito Baltazar, passed away that morning. I spoke with a couple other classmates and we agreed to pay our respects to our dearly departed friend later that evening. His body was in a chapel in Sampaloc, a place where it would be better to go using public transportation rather than bringing our vehicle.

My wife and I left the house at around 4:30 pm. The moment we stepped out of the house the afternoon sun started scorching our newly showered bodies. To get to Sampaloc from our place in Sta. Mesa, we had to go the long route by taking a bus (which was thankfully air-conditioned) and then taking a jeepney to Dimasalang. Jeepneys are not air conditioned and since it was rush hour, we had to share our seats with ten other, equally sweaty, persons.

It's been ages since either one of us traveled this way and we were relying only on the google map directions that we consulted early that day. Cynthia was getting antsy as we entered Dimasalang fearing we might miss our stop. I asked the person next to me if he knew where Algecira Street was (that was our reference point based on the map) but he apologetically smiled and confessed that he's not familiar with that street. One of the lady passengers overheard our conversation and asked where our destination was. When we explained that we need to go to Quinto Street she suggested we get off at Simoun. We remembered Simoun as one of the cross streets close to where we were headed. Advising the driver accordingly, he let us off at Simoun and we thanked our "angel" (this is how we always refer to strangers who go out of their way to help us)  profusely for directing us to the right way.

Dusk found us walking towards the Resurrection Chapel, with our clothes sticking to our skins. Eventually we arrived at the chapel where we were greeted by Minette, the deceased's daughter. Soon Lilian and Cora, my two other classmates came huffing in, themselves a bit sweaty also. We offered our condolences and prayed for Juanito's family. We all left at 8 pm, this time taking an even longer walk towards Espana. Thankfully there was a gentle night breeze that made our perambulations a bit pleasant.

Home at 9 pm. We took another shower (I believe it was the third for the day) and got ready for bed. Thank heavens for air-conditoning!

Phonedamental Needs

One of the basic things one must have when living in the Philippines is the cellphone. Almost everybody here uses it. From kids to senior citizens, from street vendors to company executives, cellphones are in their hands. Calling? yes, but mostly texting. The Philippines is arguably the texting capital of the world. Cellphones are so much a part of life here that I can't imagine how they survived without this modern device many years ago.

Inasmuch as my wife and I are now settling in this country, we needed to have our own cellphones. This is so that we can become part of the local culture. We wanted to go with a two-year plan so as to avoid the panic of having to locate the nearest "load" center when the minutes are running out. Majority of Filipinos are into the prepaid method where they buy minutes of usage. When the minutes are all used up, they will go to a "load" center to buy more minutes. Thankfully load centers are almost everywhere - from the tiny variety stores within the neighborhood to the specialty stores at malls.

The advantage of a two-year plan is of course, you get the cellphone for free. Cynthia and I went to Smart Phone - one of the more popular providers here in the Philippines. It took almost 24 hours for us to get approved because being new to the country, our credit lines have not been established yet. Finally we got a call from the agent informing us of the good news that we've been approved and can we please come to the store at 10 am the following day.

Needless to say, we were there as soon as they opened. Cynthia wanted a no-frills phone that she can just use for calling and texting. Moi, on the other hand, desired something a bit fancy. You know, with access to the internet and all that.

May I present.........
Cynthia's cellphone:

My cellphone:

I can now safely say..we belong here! :-)

Here I Am

Here I am back to the country where I was born. Most likely it will be here that I will die (or, hopefully, get raptured). I find it quite interesting that it was for econo-political reasons that triggered my departure first from the country of my birth and later from the country of where I am a citizen. The first was in 1984. Ninoy Aquino had just been assasinated and the Philippines was in turmoil. Uncertain of the future, I decided to exercise my privilege as a citizen of the United States of America (thanks to my G.I. Dad) and moved to California with my family. Now, it is 2010. My wife and I are now both "retired". The future once again looking uncertain with my meager pension already not enough to sustain us and facing a severe economic recession, returning to the Philippines would be the logical solution.

Here I am trying to shake off jet lag. Spending more than 12 hours in the cramped middle seats of a 747 was an experience Cynthia and I would rather forget if only our aching bodies would allow us.

Here I am just out from a cold shower and already perspiring all over.

Here I am enjoying lunch with Cynthia and two of her four children (Jenn and Patrick) and a grandson (Nathan) at a place called Banapple. I had a fried pork chop covered with mushroom sauce, with rice and veggies and the best iced lemon tea ever...all for about $4.

Here I am still unable to sleep at 11 pm because my body believes it is still 8 am (Los Angeles time). To while away the time, I thought about what happened in the past couple of weeks - the hectic packing and getting rid of all the remaining stuff. The touching moments when friends took Cynthia and myself out to lunch or dinner. Friends, some of whom I haven't seen in years. Friends who would drive for more than an hour just to wish us well personally. Such an outpouring of love and kindness and friendship I would treasure forever in my heart.

Here I am unable to stem the flow of tears as I remember my two children, Michelle and Kurt, both of whom I had to leave behind. I hope they know how much I love them. Of course, I miss terribly my four really cute grandkids, Megan, Amanda, Ryan and Nicholas and their wonderful Dad, Randy.

Here I am looking forward to meeting my two sons here in the Philippines: Karl, his lovely wife, Myn, and their adorable daughter, Raven. And Eumir and his charming girlfriend, Lain.

Here I am planning with my wife a new start in life. There are still so many things to do yet I know everything will be alright.

Here I am thanking God for His love, His provision and His guidance.

Life begins again.