Life's Lessons

Obviously, I did not learn from the lessons my life had given me in the past. I was sick the first week of 2018. All the bad effects of acid reflux tormented me. Too much caffeine. Back in July of 2014 I already wrote a blog on the painful results of having too much coffee and soda. I should have learned that. But no - the second half of 2017, I was drinking coffee 3 times a day and coke at least once.

This year began miserably for me. So I decided to immediately stop my caffeine intake. But that resulted in withdrawal symptoms - anxiety, cold sweat, uneasiness, etc. To alleviate that I had to have a caffeinated drink - just enough to remove all that excruciating feelings. I also decided to consult our doctor who recommended I go through some clinical tests.

The echo cardiogram went smoothly. However, the abdominal ultrasound was a bit problematic. It appeared that the technician was having trouble analyzing the results. So I was asked to return to the clinic. It was the chief radiologist himself who did the ultrasound. He, too, was puzzled. There seemed to be a  non-solid "mass" in my abdomen. He told me not to worry about it inasmuch as it was asymptomatic anyway. When I told him I was diagnosed with bladder diverticulitis back in 2013 he said it still shows in the ultrasound and that it probably was the cause of the "mass".

I once again consulted my regular doctor and showed her the results of my clinical tests. After reviewing them, she recommended a CTscan to determine whether the "mass" in my abdomen would cause me some problems or not. She also mentioned the possibility of a surgery (should the "mass" be detrimental to my health) and to fix my enlarged prostate, and remove the tiny stones in my gall bladder. Most of which are due to old age, she said.

That got me a bit worried. However, as we were ending our session, she said something that gave me hope and peace of mind. She said in so many words, "I noticed that you are sad but know that you don't own your body. God does. He is in control of your life. Your body is like God's house - it is up to Him if He wants to renovate it, clean it or fix it. He will take care of you." Those words really pierced my soul because at the start of the year, I have already resolved to put my complete faith and trust in God. To be the kind of person that he wants me to be. My life is indeed in His hands.

Have I just created a punster?

My wife and I "inherited" this cat when we moved in to our new residence more than a year ago. Cynthia's daughter and her family who used to live in this house "bequeathed" their pet to us because they said that it was good at getting rid of pests. So for the past year or so we just called it with the generic name of "pusa" (the Tagalog word for cat). Until lately, that is. Our new household help, Rosamie, one morning approached us while my wife and I were having breakfast. She announced that she had given our pet a name. "CATcher," Rosamie said, "because it was good at catching mice and lizards and snakes".

CATcher, I thought to myself, what an appropriate and punny name! I smiled at my wife and looked at her with wide eyes because honestly I never expected a house help to come up with such an ingenuous name. Had our house help been reading my pun posts in Facebook? Have I just created a punster?

House everything?

It has been almost a year since we moved into our present abode (please see my previous blog). I had some misgivings then on why were we changing our residence from a cozy two-bedroom apartment into a humongous five-bedroom house when there's just me and my wife. Everything happens for a reason, I mused, even I couldn't figure out why at that moment. Recent events seem to emphasize  even more my apprehensions on the whys and wherefores of such a move. For one thing we can't get a househelp. We had two cases where a prospective maid backed out at the last minute. The second one even scammed us of two thousand pesos - asking us to send her the money for her transportation expenses inasmuch as she will be coming from Samar province. On the date of her departure she told us that they met an accident and that her mom was in "critical condition". We never got a reply when we called her several times to ask her to return the money we sent her. Now why is having a maid important? Because we need someone to house sit for us whenever we go out of town for a few days (since we are birders, that is a given).

Then when the rainy season started we noticed that some parts of the house got flooded - not a lot - but enough to be an annoyance. Last week there were several leaks including that of the main pipe. It took four days and two different plumbers to solve the problem.

Are these somehow not-so-subtle messages that we need to look for another place that is more appropriate for two senior citizens? Did I mention that we are dab-smack in the middle of the western fault? Warnings of an impending 7+ magnitude earthquake are currently flooding the news and social media. There was even an earthquake drill yesterday in the whole of MetroManila.

How's everything here? Not looking good I must admit.

Moving

Those unholy hours when the truck ban is lifted that we hear the almost non-stop screaming of brakes from the semis as they line up single file on the lane assigned specifically for them. Every now and then the fart-like honking from the drivers who were losing their patience (and who wouldn't in that situation?) would blast in the wee hours of the morning.

Ah, to live merely half a block away from the always busy C5 road - one of the main thoroughfares in Metro Manila. This despite staying in a room that had been sound-proofed (more like sound minimized really) for that particular purpose. 

We recently moved from our cozy two-bedroom apartment to a huge house in the same village. Why? you'd probably want to know. And the answer I'd like to give is : It's complicated. 

I always believed that circumstances happen for a reason. Even if I can't understand why at the moment. Perhaps, in the future, the reason (or reasons) will unfold before my eyes and I will finally understand why such a seemingly nonsensical decision was made.

For now, my wife and I are in the process of settling in and getting ourselves accustomed to a different kind of ambiance, so to speak. The bulk of the work is over but there are many things that still need to be done. Like getting used to traffic noise in the middle of the night.

We've moved. I just hope I can say the same thing about the vehicles half a block away from us.

Up Plant Down

Typhoon Glenda's howling, more than 150kph winds brought down the fortune plant next to our apartment, practically inhibiting our egress. So I had to do what needs to be done - put the tall, heavy plant back where it belongs. That was when Glenda decided to pour her torrential rain.

Needless to say, my lower back and both thighs were groaning the day after from all that exertion. Oh well, at least it was not a mango or narra tree that went down, otherwise I would have to put on my monkey suit and clamber over just to get out of our home.

Oh Caffeine, My Caffeine

For five agonizing days I suffered. I had a relapse of some sort from the very same thing that caused me to be hospitalized last November. Intermittent stomach pains and extreme difficulty in peeing every single day. Thinking on what could possibly have caused this misery of mine, I came to a conclusion: caffeine! And meat. Both where responsible for my troubles eight months ago. My doctor told me that. However since the side effect of those killer food have already been surgically removed, I thought I could go back to my gastronomical inclinations. Big mistake!

I believe it started around May when I started drinking coffee in the mornings again. Then an occasional Coke every now and then. Add to that, the liempos and the steaks and their ilk that had become an almost daily fare on our table (and when eating out). That had been the routine, so to speak, until that fateful Monday morning when I woke up with stomach pain that had me doubling up. A trip to the toilet even aggravated it. I discussed the situation with my wife and we both agreed that its time to revert to the good ol' meatless/caffeine-less diet. Coincidentally, we are going to have our church's mid-year prayer and fasting beginning that Tuesday. Since we always participated in that, I prepared myself mentally, physically and spiritually.

The pain and urinating difficulties caused by the diverticulitis of my urinary bladder remained during those three days of fasting. When I woke up early on Saturday I was surprised by the lack of pain and even my peeing was a bit easier. Although we are back to the three meals a day routine, I made a firm resolution not to have any caffeine and to minimize my consumption of meat. By Sunday, our friends noticed how I have already lost some weight. Nevertheless I felt fine. No more stomach pains. I feel better and I pee better.

Successful? Me?

While doing my daily devotional I came across this quotation from Orlando Aloysius Battista, a Canadian-American chemist and author: "You have reached the pinnacle of success as soon as you become uninterested in money, compliments or publicity." That got me thinking. If that statement is true, then I would consider myself very successful!

First of all, I am not interested in money. Not because I am uber-rich - I definitely am not. But I am not poor either.  Relying on fixed pensions as our sole source of income, my wife and I are living quite comfortably. We have come to a point in our lives where we are contented with what we have therefore the need for acquiring more wealth is not important to us. I'm not saying that we would reject any financial blessings that may come to us - we would of course be grateful should that happen. But to actively pursue the acquisition of more money? Not interested.

Now about compliments and publicity which are related to each other. Isn't it that compliments are obtained through publicity? Being in my senior years, I no longer need an ego boost. I have come to accept who I am - acknowledging my weaknesses and aware of my strengths. A recent experience would best illustrate this.

Sometime in January this year, birders and bird photographers were alerted to the news that a pair of wild Philippine Eagles - one of the rarest birds in the world - was nesting in Mt. Apo in Davao. Naturally, birding groups travelled to that site to see and photograph this raptor family. Cynthia and I were among those who had been blessed with being able to see both parents and the chick in perfectly good weather. I posted two photos - one taken by my wife and another by me - of the eagles in flight in Facebook just to show that we got lucky at seeing the birds despite the odds (it rained two days before, both parents already seldom visiting the almost fledged chick, military operations in the area). We received a good number of comments saying that our shots were the best of all the Philippine Eagle photos that had been posted on Facebook so far. We were very grateful and appreciative of those comments, of course, but because I am not interested in compliments and publicity, I never posted those pictures in the various Birding Groups that I belong to in Facebook. It is not important to me whether I get a huge number of "likes" to my postings or not. I post for the simple reason that I want to share the pictures of some of the birds we had taken in our birding trips. Don't get me wrong, Facebook "likes" are always appreciated and my wife and I are thankful to those who liked our postings.

Come to think of it, I don't even care if I'm successful or not. What matters to me is that I am happy and content with the kind of life I am living now.

Starting the New Year with a Bang

We were both awakened by it - our room swaying like a raft on turbulent waters.

"Earthquake!" I told my wife in an insouciant manner. It was 4:01 am. We really intended to wake up early so that we could be back to our home in Quezon City before dusk, but not this early and certainly not with this kind of wake-up call. 

We rose from our slumber, showered and then dressed up for the long trip home. I loaded our luggage into our car while Cynthia went to the hotel desk to check-out. Soon we were off, leaving the beautiful city of Laoag. Around six in the morning we started to feel our stomachs grumbling. We looked for the fast food joints - Jollibee or McDonalds  - from every big town and city that we passed through. None were open! Because it was new year's day, these eating places decided to give their employees time off so they could celebrate the holiday with their families.

More than three hours later we entered the city of San Fernando, the capital of La Union province. Again, both McDonalds and Jollibees were closed. Then we passed by a Pancake House restaurant and they were open! I did a quick u-turn, parked the car and hurriedly got in. There were only a few customers and just a single server. Her name was Cass. So it was Cass only at that restaurant on New Year's Day. My wife and I ordered the same thing - ham and cheese omelet and coffee (regular for her, decaf for me). No omelet tasted this good and the servings were quite huge that we weren't able to finish all of our food.

Our hunger satisfied, we moved on. I was cruising smoothly on the National Road enjoying the fact that there were only a few tricycles and motorcyclists impeding our progress. After negotiating a gravel portion between asphalted roads, I heard a grinding noise and a bang and our car slowed considerably and then stopped. Through sheer effort and multiple attempts I was able to move it to the concrete shoulder. At first I thought we had a flat but when I checked, all four tires were OK. I got back to the driver's seat and shifted the gear to drive - the car won't budge. I tried the second and third gears, still no progress. I tried the reverse and it moved! I stopped and parked the car on the shoulder again. I got out and looked under the chassis to see if there were any telltale signs of transmission breakdown. As far as I can tell, nada. I gave Cynthia the number of our insurance provider and she called them immediately. While she was being transferred to a local tow company I walked along the shoulder and saw a huge bolt. I don't know what prompted me to pick it up but I did.

Cynthia negotiated with the tow company. To their credit they promised to send along a mechanic to see if he could fix the trouble on the spot. We were advised that they would be coming from the town of Aringay, roughly 11 kilometers away. About two hours later (they had to wait for the mechanic who explained to us later that he was up in the mountains earlier that day) they came. After doing some tests on the transmission the mechanic concluded that that was not the problem. He was mulling things over when an "aha!" moment came. He saw that the brake mechanism on the right front wheel was loose. They (the tow truck driver was helping him) took out the tire and then showed me the reason why - one of the bolts connecting the mechanism to the wheel was missing. 

the part of the brake that gets stuck to the tire rim

the missing bolt

He was already saying that they may have to go back to town to get a replacement (and not even sure if any auto shops were open it being New Year's day) when I showed him the bolt I picked up from the street earlier. He was surprised. "That's exactly the part I needed!" he exclaimed with understandable incredibility. "Now we need a washer" he continued. Again, to go to town to buy a washer with the uncertainty of seeing an open auto shop weighed upon us. Then Dado, the mechanic, had an idea. He took out the washer from one of the levers from the tow truck, tried it on the brake mechanism and voila! It fit!

Several minutes later, Dado assured us that our car was now good to go all the way to Manila. We thanked him and the truck driver profusely. The fee quoted over the phone by the tow company manager was P1,500 which we thought was very reasonable. We gave both of them a generous tip as well.

The rest of the trip was thankfully uneventful. Cynthia and I did not even bother to have lunch because 1) Our breakfast was really heavy, 2) the breaking down of our car made us a little bit tense and therefore did not make us hungry or 3) a combination of both.

It may not be the best first day of the year for us - for some it may even be construed as an omen of things to come - but still we were thankful. When our car broke down I was not really, really worried - sure there were some anxious moments - but overall somehow I just had the feeling that things will turn out right. Why I even picked up that bolt was a question that still lingers in my mind. That Dado was smart to improvise was a definite positive to this seemingly bad circumstance.

Our new year might have started with a literal bang but our faith in God's promises to be with us at all times gives us the comfort and assurance that the rest of the year will be more than just fine. It will be a great 2014 for us.

Getting some TLC

August, 2011. Lunchtime. My wife and I were at the SM Marikina Mall. As in so many times before choosing a place to eat became a dilemma - what with the various restaurants that can be found here. Somehow our usual choices of French Baker or Burgoo were not that appealing on that particular day. I can't explain it but I had this certain hankering for something….fast food.

"Let's try Burger King!" I suggested to Cynthia.

Thankfully she agreed.

We fell in line. My wife was still trying to decide what to order while I had already made up my mind so I lined up ahead of her. The queue moved slowly and I was salivating like the Pavlovian dog just thinking about my soon to be lunch. Finally my turn came.

"I'll have a  double whopper meal" I eagerly told the pretty young lady behind the counter.

"Would you like some TLC with that, sir?" she asked, smiled and then looked at me with those beguiling eyes.

I blushed as I tried to imagine how she would provide that TLC to me. I stammered. I looked at my wife who was standing behind me. I'm sure she heard the girl's question because Cynthia was staring at me with a look that conveyed so many words that did not have to be uttered aloud to be understood. I turned to the order taker. I opened my mouth repeatedly but not a sound came out.

Once again, the young girl smiled the sweetest of smiles.

"Sir, TLC means Tomato, Lettuce and Cheese. Do you want your sandwich to include those?"

I sighed the most relieving sigh that I can muster. I heard the same expressive sound emanating from behind me followed by a soft giggle.

"Why, yes, of course!" I told the girl trying not to look directly at her. I gingerly stepped aside and pulled my wife forward.

"Please take my wife's order. If she wants some TLC, give her that, too."

The year 2012 in review

A photo collage of our trips/activities the past year.

Thoughts on the coming year - 2013

It's New Year's eve. For most this is the time for reflections on the year that is about to end and formulating resolutions for the coming one. 2012, for me, had been a good year so allow me to focus more on 2013.

So what will be my plans for next year? I'd like to make it simple and I hope you too will consider these "resolutions" as well. 


²⁷ He (Jesus) answered, “‘Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your strength and with all your mind’; and, ‘Love your neighbor as yourself.’” - Luke 10:27

I believe these two commands are the perfect resolutions anyone can make. Let's break it down to understand these words better:

"Love the Lord your God". Sounds easy, right? I mean how can we not love God, especially knowing how much He loves us. He cares for us so much, He died a most painful, agonizing death so that we won't have to. Knowing also that He is there for us not just 24/7 but every second of our lives. How can we not love Someone like that? And yet….

Not everybody loves God, not with the kind of love He desires from us. There are four aspects to this kind of love:

1. "with all your heart" - these are our emotions. For many this is the kind of love they know. This is the overflowing feeling that makes us want to be with the object of our affections every single moment. But for a lot of people, emotions come and go depending on the situation or the prevailing mood. God wants us to love Him even when we feel down or beset with problems. As a matter of fact that is the best time to show Him our love because He is our Comfort and Peace.

2. "with all your soul" - these are our spiritual sides. The special connection we have with God. Some people only get spiritual on certain days of the week - often on Sundays when they go to church. The rest of the week they return to their carnality (the opposite of spirituality) concerned with the mundane affairs of their world. Our souls should always be connected to God and be constantly in love with Him.

3. "with all your strength" - these are the physical aspects. How do we physically love Someone who is not physically present? By obeying His laws. By getting on our knees and praying to Him. By worshiping Him in song, in giving, and through helping others.

4. "with all your mind" - these are our intellects. For many this is not easy. For them God is merely a concept. For others God is out there in the heavens detached from human activity. But our God is none of these. He became human and experienced all that we experienced - and more. He knew what we go through as we live our lives here on earth. Loving Him intellectually is knowing all these, all that He had done for us, of being aware not only of His existence, but of His presence in our lives.

Finally, the second command tells us to love our neighbors as we love ourselves. Loving ourselves is already a given. We are born that way - seeking glory for ourselves, wanting the best for ourselves. But God tells us to love others the same way. He asks us to humble ourselves and put others first. 

Tough resolutions, aren't they? But think of the rewards we will reap if we follow these commands. Once we start loving God above all, at all times, we will have unspeakable joy and peace beyond understanding. Loving others will become much easier, too.

I am determined to accomplish these resolutions not just for 2013 but for as long as I am here on earth.

A blessed new year to you, my dear friends.

AMABERDER

The following is a true story - with only a "slight" exaggeration.

My wife and I were returning to Manila after an unfruitful birding foray in Davao. As we were checking in at the Davao International Airport, one of the staff at the Cebu Pacific Counter told us to check in my camera bag. I admit that it was a tad oversized but then again it contains my 500mm lens along with my DSLR camera. We told him that we didn't have a problem hand carrying it when we boarded the plane from Manila. We even explained that we were allowed, without question, to hand carry it to and from Coron, Palawan, where the airplane was relatively smaller (and therefore had smaller  overhead bins). But he was adamant. We asked to see his manager.

After about 15 minutes the manager came and basically said the same thing. We told him that if we checked in the camera bag and something happened to it would they be willing to pay for the damage? The manager said that we will be asked to sign a waiver. Whereupon I could no longer contain myself.

"A waiver?" I shouted. "Don't you know AMABERDER! AMABERDER! Do you have any idea how much this equipment costs? Do you even realize that because AMABERDER I have to take good care of my camera gear?"

"Sir, if it passes the security then you can hand carry it" was his stubborn reply.

"Security?" I was apoplectic. "AMABERDER! I photograph birds not kill people!"

Exit Cebu Pacific Manager. 

My wife and I stomped towards the security area where our hand carry luggage passed without even a curious look from the guards. 

I was just glad nobody took a video of what just transpired.

All Groan Up

The simplest act of getting up from bed in the morning would elicit a groan from me. To be echoed moments later by my wife as she forced herself to rise from her recumbent position.

With our ages racking up years beyond three scores we were noticing sometimes not too subtle changes in our way of life. Somehow it now takes a longer time for us to go from point A to point B where, for illustration purposes, point A would be the sofa and point B the dining table about 3 meters away. This is living la vida slo-mo.

Then there are the oohs and oofs as the soundtrack of our daily activities: standing from a supine position, getting up from a chair, sitting down, lying down, going up and down the stairs - anything that involves movement.

Which is sort of strange considering our lifestyle. Let me clarify that. For the most part we spend our days in front of a computer - a desktop for me, and a laptop for her. Perhaps while in this semi-torpid state our bodies got accustomed to the sweet sensation of uber relaxation hence the complaints we got when we tried to extricate ourselves from this lethargic mode.

However - and this is a big however - Monday and Wednesday mornings we have our dancercise. Both of us would join other ladies (yes, I am the only hombre in the group) of the same generation and we would coax our hibernating muscles to sway to the lively tempo of the cha-cha-cha and boogie. I'd like to think that we do quite well on this activity - interestingly there were no groans that accompanied the conga beat. 

Our other pastime is bird photography. This of course entails travelling, sometimes walking on narrow trails while lugging our camera gear, oftentimes standing for long periods of time under the hot blistering sun, or at times getting doused in a cool drizzle. Certainly these are conditions that should have toned our bodies to handle the rigors of such a hobby.

So why then those inarticulate sounds that emanate from our mouths during the times when we were not grinding to the music of a salsa or stalking some feathered creature in the wild? I wish I had the answer to that. I guess we just have to accept the fact that we have finally graduated from growing pains to pain groanings.

Past Food

When our friend, Peter Ting, invited my wife and I (and another friend, IreneDy) to have lunch in Chinatown I was excited! My thoughts immediately flew back to the late 1970s when I was working at Allied Bank in Escolta which is within walking distance to where we were headed now.

I remember one of my officemates, Edgar Maldonado, bringing this mouth-watering pastry to our workplace almost on a weekly basis. A couple of years later our office moved to the Makati district and with that came the end of our once a week affair with this fabulous food.

"Do you know a place where we can get kuchay-ah?" I asked Peter as we crossed Jones bridge.

"Of course!" he replied. 

Our lunch at Chuan Ki was sumptuous (and cheap!). It was capped by a lotus seed filled mooncake. Normally mooncakes have mashed mung beans as their filling and it was a pleasant, tasty delight to discover that lotus is much more delicious.

After lunch we strolled the streets of Chinatown. We made a short stop at Lord Stow's where I bought 6 pieces of their world famous egg tart. 

Next stop was the kuchay-ah store. Cynthia warned me that it may not be the same as what I had decades ago so we played it safe and just bought two pieces.

The drive back home was full of nostaglia as we passed my old high school which looked so much different now than when I was studying there. The roads we took were the roads that I walked on 50 years ago and frankly I couldn't recognize them anymore. So much have changed - they were now more crowded and noisier. Half a century ago when I walked from school, these streets were relatively quiet and with only a few people sharing the road with me. The sidewalks were wide and clean. My classmates and I would run for a kilometer without bumping into anything. Sadly that's no longer possible now. Street vendors and hundreds of pedestrians ply the sidewalk while tricycles, jeepneys and private vehicles battle for road space in trying to get to their respective destinations.

We eventually got home after almost two hours of negotiating Manila's traffic. Later that evening, I prepared myself, taking a deep breath while two tantalizing kuchay-ahs lay in front of me. I tried to remember the taste of what my officemates and I shared four decades ago. Even the shape of the pastries before me does not connect to the visions of the past. I looked at my wife who was curiously staring at me. I held one of the kuchay-ahs and took a bite. Cynthia's eyes grew wider as I savored the strange taste of sauteed meat and veggies inside the bread-like crust.

"Well?" my wife couldn't bear the suspense any longer.

"It's delicious" I confirmed to her, "but this was not how I remember it. Perhaps I have forgotten what the past food tasted like."

Nevertheless two modern day kuchay-ahs still passed through my mouth rather quickly.

What a Korean drama did to me..

I was slouched in my chair staring at my computer screen. My wife, Cynthia, was reclined at our bed eyes fixed on the same computer screen as well. We were watching the last episode of Bridal Mask, a Korean drama series. The story was about a zorro-like figure who was a part of a group of rebels fighting against the Japanese-controlled government. We were not expecting much because based on our previous experiences (yes, we have watched lots of Korean dramas) the finales were usually quite disappointing.

Until I saw this one particular scene. I don’t know why I was so touched. Perhaps it was because of the superb acting done by both actors. They were not even the main characters in the story. The girl, Ueno Rie, was a Joseon (that’s what they call  the country before it became known as Korea) gisaeng (a hostess). She was adopted by a powerful Japanese who controlled the top officials in the government. 

Bridal Mask has just killed her “father” who wanted her killed for her betrayal. She had known the real identity of the masked hero (whom she loves, by the way) but did not inform her father, Bridal Mask’s mortal enemy. Now he is dead and the hero wasn’t reciprocating her feelings for him.

The guy in the scene is Katsuyama, the Japanese body guard of Ueno Rie. The scene unfolds as their car came to a stop. Katsuyama stepped out, got Ueno Rie’s suitcase, and then opened the door for her. They faced each other.

Katsuyama: Where are you going? Let me escort you. At least to where you are going to.

Ueno Rie: No. It would be better to part ways here.

Katsuyama: I will ask you for the last time. Like a shadow by your side as just a bodyguard. I will stay like that. Still…won’t that do?

Ueno Rie: Katsuyama, living a lifetime looking at someone who doesn’t love you is misfortune. I’m thankful all this time.

She then took her suitcase from him while he remained expressionless despite the heartache I know he was feeling at that very moment. Ueno Rie turned and walked away. After a few steps she stopped turned to face Katsuyama again.

Ueno Rie: Katsuyama! My name is Chae Hong Joo. Chae Hong Joo.

She told him her Joseon name. Her real name. Implying that a Joseon girl could never love a Japanese guy.

Katsuyama: Your name…I will forever remember it.

She turned and continued to walk away from him. Katsuyama still trying to maintain his stoicism pressed his lips together desperately holding back the tears that he won’t allow to flow.

And this was where I tried to hold back my own tears.

“Are you crying?” Cynthia asked. She must have heard my sniffles.

“ Um, no. I must be coming down with a cold.” I lied. But she knew that.

Well, what Jew know!

I was staring at his face. Mesmerized and in deep wonder as to how such long hair can protrude from his nostrils. Is it perhaps because he is Jewish – a group of humanity generally known for their oversized schnozz. (Barbra Streisand and Ringo Starr come to mind).

I tuned him on again. He was still mumbling, every now and then punctuated by an “oy vey” or an “oy gevalt”. To think his whines were not even induced by wine. Then Charlie Brown’s doppelganger stopped and stared at me with those grey-blue eyes of his and waited for a response. I cleared my throat in a most emphatic way – my way of biding for time while I tried to think of some words that might appease his grumbling.

“You know that Jews are God’s chosen people, don’t you?”

He nodded.

“So, why don’t you direct your complaints to Him?” I suggested in a most compassionate tone.

“How?” he wondered.

“Pray!” I almost yelled at him. “Tell Him how you are feeling and ask Him to help you.”

“I don’t think He has time for me”

I was taken aback momentarily by that reply. Regaining my composure, I then gave him a plethora of Biblical verses that directly answered his reluctance, Isaiah 58:9 and Jeremiah 33:3 foremost among them. Even chiding him good naturedly that he probably pictures God as an uber-busy telephone operator unable to handle the millions of blinking lights on His switchboard. I assured him that God is not like that. How can God be God if he has limitations? I asked the Jew in front of me.

He was still waffling on this subject as we tackled the syrup-laden waffles on our breakfast plates. I noticed that he dug into the bacon heap with gusto.

“You’re not kosher, obviously.” I observed.

He nodded as the bacon was crunched heartily between his teeth.

We relegated the religious talk in the background as we discussed more mundane subjects like work and family as we ate. Soon the plates were empty and the last drop of coffee was drunk. The waiter came with the bill. My table-mate looked at me not blinking either eye. I even noticed a so very slight shrug of his shoulders. Finally I got the tacit message. I pulled out my wallet.

“This is on me.” I said in a slightly higher pitched voice. He gave a huge sigh and smiled from ear to ear.

We shook hands and agreed to meet again. He ambled towards his huge SUV where his driver was waiting. I got in my X-trail, plopped my butt on the drivers seat and prayed that I would not encounter any heavy traffic on the way home. Before I drove off I looked at my reflection in the rear view mirror and wondered if I should let hair protrude out of my nostrils.  Oy vey.

A Pair of Sleepers

I opened my eyes. I slowly turned my head to my left and looked at my wife. She was also beginning to stir from her sleep. I turned my gaze towards the clock. Almost 6 am! We woke up later than we used to. What even made it more strange was the fact that for the first time in months we did not need the comfort provided by our room air conditioner or electric fan. Outside our window I could hear  rainfall like the sound of a roaring cascade. Ah, perhaps that was the reason for our extended slumber.


It was Saturday morning. Normal folks, people who worked hard during the week usually wake up late on Saturday mornings. But not us. For us Saturdays are often spent birding which behooves waking up   in the dark hours between midnight and dawn. In fact that was our original plan. However, prudence dictated that we abandon such plans because of the inclement weather. (You should meet prudence - she always gives sound advice). 


So here we are on a gloomy Saturday still lying in bed at this time of the morning. We snuggled close together and slowly drifted back into sleep lulled by the lullaby of the raindrops.


Breakfast can wait.

Dance Seniorita, Dance.

The pulsating rhythm of Lou Bega's Mambo No. 5 filled the hall. All ten of us, arrayed in two rows, danced in unison behind our instructor. Tita Nora, looking youthful at 80 years and despite her torso being slightly bent perhaps from scoliosis was still the epitome of grace in executing the Latin dance. Some ten minutes earlier, she patiently showed us the basic steps that we would be doing.


That was the start of our dancercise routine for that morning. Cynthia and I learned that our village association was holding free dance exercises every Monday and Wednesday from 8 to 9 am at our Village Hall. We both agreed that it would be a good idea to put our sixty-plus year-old bodies to some rigorous yet fun filled activity. The hot summer days brought on a certain amount of lassitude to our daily lives. It was time for some change.


The mambo routine was followed by a cha-cha number. Once again Tita Nora first showed us the steps then came the music. One..two.cha-cha-cha. I looked at my co-participants and felt a twinge of awkwardness. I was the only guy around! However, inasmuch as the other ladies were all senior-itas and didn't seem to mind my presence, I decided to continue swaying to the cha-cha beat.


After one hour Cynthia and I were drowning in sweat. It seemed that every single pore of our skins were oozing with perspiration. And it felt good! We thanked Tita Nora and promised to return to the next session. 


We walked slowly home, our hearts beating to the captivating music of the mambo and cha-cha-cha.

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.

Retirees

A meme has been going around Facebook wherein photos are shown to depict "what others think I do" and "what I actually do" based on certain (usually "job") categories. Since nothing was made for retirees like me, I thought I'd create one. Hope you like it.