Day 200 - New Years Eve

We spent much of the morning lolling about the hostel reading books and newspapers and drinking coffee. That's the danger of a very nice hostel - sometimes it's virtually impossible to peel oneself off the roof deck and actually do anything. Fortunately, one of the blessings of long travel is that it is not necessary to do absolutely everything everyday. In regular life, no one is on-the-go all day every day. If we were, we would be frazzled messes. When one is travelling for several months, it becomes less like 'traveling' as we generally think of it, and more like 'living abroad in lots of places'. Travel becomes 'regular life', and downtime days are just as necessary as they are at home.

That said, we did spend a few hours out and about this afternoon. We started our day with a late breakfast/early lunch at a little restaurant serving fried fish and soup. They might have offered other things as well, but those were the ones on display which we could point to and order with hand gestures. The fish were just in a large bowl. Not wanting to appear too greedy (and not realizing just how good they were) I reached for a medium-sized specimen. The motherly lady working at the counter shook her head no,no, no, and tsking-tsking me, my picked out the plumpest, nicest one and plonked on my plate with a big grin. Both ladies were tickled with Cz eating vast mounds of rice from the serve-yourself rice cooker (most SE Asians we have met seem to think Westerners don't really eat rice, and then find it highly amusing when we do), and at my eating all, even the head, of the fish.

After lunch, we decided to ride the river taxi to Chinatown with two Americans. As usual, the river was quite busy with all manner of boats whizzing and chugging up and down. Longtail boats like this one remind me of mayflies the way they zip around the surface with their motor-on-a-pole trailing out behind. Most exciting were the many fireworks barges being set up for New Year's displays. All the swank hotels along the waterfront were scheduled to have New Year's galas, and each one seemed to have its own floating fireworks stage.

Since the other Americans had not yet visited Wat Pho (the big, reclining Buddha wat), and because that one is our favourite, we stopped there first. After the requisite oohhing and ahhhing at the big gold Buddha, and giving the great gong a few good hits to ring in the New Year, we spent the rest of our time wandering around the outer courtyard taking irreverent photos. We saw Thai families doing the same, so we figured it couldn't be too sacrilegious. I think this pony might be a bit too small for me. We were a little surprised at first when we heard one of the stone statues say "Pssst. Pull My finger!" , but being fart jokes being universal humour (even among the sacred inanimate) Cz obliged.

We walked from Wat Pho into Chinatown. It is one of the largest Chinese centers (maybe the largest) outside of China. We only skirted the edge, maybe the middle is more intense, and maybe we just built it up in our minds, but it seemed tame compared to Canal Street. We did however have a sampling of some seriously tasty street snacks. Here's one of the simpler ones.

Ingredients:
quail eggs
wonton wrappers
Optional ingredients (not in the one we ate, but I think it would be good)
scallion
parsley or cilantro
salt
chilli, pepper, or paprika

Hard boil and peel quail eggs
fold up in wanton wrappers
deep fry

It's that simple.
If you want to get fancy, you could season the eggs with salt, herbs, and spices, and tie up the wonton top with a scallion. Still pretty simple, and your momma would be so impressed.

Around 6PM we started gearing up for New Year's. First we stopped by our local food stalls for a 'fancy' New Year's Eve dinner of soup, fried rice, and coconut smoothies. Then we hopped on the sky train and hurled ourselves (or shoved ourselves to be more accurate) into the scrum of Central Square. I was surprised at how few foreigners were present. The crowd was mostly a sea of Thai families cheerfully jostling for position in the crowded square. It was crowded, but relaxed and happy, with none of the fierce competition for 'prime real estate' that happens every Dec 31 in NYC. Everywhere bright lights cheered 'Happy New Year' and 'God Bless the King'. The Ganesh statue on one side of the square was wreathed in swirls of incense and buried under mounds of jasmine, tuber roses, and marigolds left by Thais hopeful for a prosperous new year.

Fueled by two parts excitement and one part beer, we laughed and mugged for one another's cameras in anticipation of the big event. 2007 is coming to a pretty spectacular close. We are in short sleeves and sandals waiting to ring in the new year half a world away (and twelve-fifteen hours ahead) of everyone we know, yet we are still surrounded by friends and laughter. The Central Square celebration has been advertised as "Hands Together 2008" in the hopes that everyone will join hands at midnight in a gesture of peace and goodwill. So hand-to-hand we count down the last few minutes of a most eventful year. 10, 9, 8, 7, 6...

Day 199 - Market Day

Today we went to the famous weekend market. The weekend market is a covered market with over 15,000 stalls selling everything from live baby squirrels (Pets or food? - I didn't dare ask) to handicrafts to random plastic junk, to 'designer' clothes and underwear. Pretty much if could be bought, sold, or traded, it showed up in the market.

We started the day with Thai ice tea. I guess here it's just called 'ice tea'. Regardless of the name, the making of it is an art form. Hot (but not boiling) water is pured though giant strainers of loose tea leaves. Loads of sweetened condensed milk is added, and then the whole concoction is poured back and forth between metal cups to cool and froth. As he pours (with as many as three cans in his hands) the tea man turn slow pirouettes and brings the cups closer and farther away from each other. All without spilling a drop!

After our tea, we nosed around the various shops. Perhaps most surprising was the shop specialising in country and bluegrass. Somehow we had stumbled on 'Little West VA' in the heart of Bangkok.

Of particular interest to me were the underwear sellers. A broken underwire and dead elastic converged with simply being tired of wearing granny bras. To my rescue came stall after stall of nice bras for $1-$2. Or so I thought. My bosoms are of average size by US standards. By Thai standards, however, they are HUGE - as evidenced by the only bras being close to my size having no sex appeal in colours like 'putty' with padded straps and triple rows of industrial hooks. After much searching, I finally found a simple black size 36, and snapped it up. First thing back at the hostel I tried it on. It was comically too small, a concept that my all-male roommates found hard to fathom. Lets just say my cups runneth over.

Despite the bra debacle, we had a marvelous time eating our way through the market. Most of the shops were a wash, but OMG the food. Perhaps this is why my clothes are rapidly filling out in all the places trekking had emptied them. Row upon row of steaming vats and sizzling woks competed for space with charcoal grills, smoothie stalls, and deep fryers. We never actually ate a sit-down meal, but sampled all sorts of tasty treats form the various stalls. Highlights included the phad thai, grilled something that I think was giant squid, strawberry-coconut smoothies, and spiced fish balls served with a spicy-sweet dipping sauce. Nothing cost more than 50bhat (about $1.75) for the big plate of phad thai, and most snacks were only about $.30.

I try again for a bra at the local shopping arcade, and again come up blank. The largest they carry is a 34B that looks more like a 34AA. I console myself with an amazing pumpkin custard served right in the steamed pumpkin shell.

After digesting for a few hours over a book that could have been written by Cz (by the wife of a traveller who is decidedly less keen on having 'adventures' than her husband), we head out for the phad thai at our local street vendor. It is billed as 'the best in the world', with newspaper articles in many languages extolling its virtues taped up on the cart windows. It does not disappoint - spicy and sweet with piquant lime undertones, this is probably where we will have our New Year's Eve dinner as well.

Our stay in Bangkok has morphed from its planned 2 days to nearly a week now. I really like it here, for much the same reasons that I liked the Pest side of Budapest and all of Istanbul. It is a heady mix of ancient temple, modern craziness, and just enough dirt to feel authentic. I look forward to ringing in the new year here with fireworks and over 100,000 of my closest friends tomorrow night.

Day 198 - The Big Guy

I have been wondering why this is such foodie blog. and I think it is because eating, along with pooping and sleeping, is one of those things we do every day. And while the first squat toilet or hand and water 'wipe' might be a culture shock, after a few times, it becomes the norm and you stop noticing it. Same with sleeping - the beds might vary in dimension, height, or materials, but they are still essentially a rectangular place to sleep. Food on the other hand is different every day. Imagine the variety of foods available at home, and now imagine that same level of variety in each country with not a single item being familiar. Everyday is a surprise. Even if you dine entirely on street food, which we have been doing in Bangkok, one can go an entire trip without eating the same thing twice. Only sampling a only few street stalls, we have had different varieties of meat on a stick, tons of fruit, barbecued squid in spicy sauce, fried fish balls, and an amazing seafood stir fry for a late lunch. Tonight I am going to haunt the streets near our hostel and see if I can't rustle up a plate of phad Thai. (I've heard the vendor on our corner makes the best in the city)

Other than eating, we spent the day riding the water taxi and legitimately visiting the temples that we saw last night. Bangkok used to be known as 'The Venice of the East', a title which still holds water, if you will pardon the pun. By far the most convenient way to reach most of the monuments and temples is via the water taxis and cross-river ferries.

We began our day by taking the water taxi up to the temple district, and then the cross-river ferry over to Wat Arun, or temple of the dawn. The temple's many spires are covered in elaborate mosaics. From a distance, they appear to be simply coloured tiles, but closer inspection reveals them for what they really are; pieces of dishes and other china that had been used for ballast in Chinese trading ships. Flowers whose petals use the curved edges of plates with dainty blue borders flank other blossoms with tiny porcelain saucers for centers. A series of frighteningly steep stairs leads up almost to the top of the wat, and offers views over the river and city.

From Wat Arun, we caught the cross-river ferry back across to Wat Pho, where we visited unofficially last night. Today the 'Buddha Room' was open and we spent a good while marveling at the largest gold reclining Buddha in the world. This guy stretches over 45 meters long and I think 15 meters tall. The pillars surrounding him are all inlaid with coloured tiles and semi-precious stones. Even the soles of his feet are decorated with mother of pearl whorls on his toes, and pictures on the soles. Outside the temple a great gong sat waiting for anyone who wanted to to strike it. It produced a resonant booo-ooong that was as much felt vibrating through one's body as it was heard.

We walked from the giant golden Buddha to Wat Prakaew and the Royal Palace. The place was crawling with people, as this complex is the top tourist attraction in Bangkok. Justifiably so- it is a marvel of gold leaf, mosaic, and Thai architecture. Though the king no longer resides here, it is still used for some official royal functions. This December was the king's eightieth birthday, and in honour of his birthday, much of the mosaic work is being cleaned and restored.

The place complex also houses the Wat Prakaew, home of the Emerald Buddha. Actually made of another green stone (Jade maybe? Jasper? I forget), the little Buddha sits atop a glorious heap of gold and crystal spires. Unfortunately photos are not allowed inside the wat - fortunately, the outside is just as elaborately gilded and decorated.

Hungry from playing tourist, we made our way back to the area near the ferry dock, and tucked into the delicious aforementioned seafood stir fry and a bottle of fresh juice. It was fairly thick, dark green, and not too sweet. It tasted good, and was deliciously cold, but I'm not entirely sure I want to know what sort of plant it came from.

By the time we finished 'lunch', most of the temples and museums were gaining on closing time. rather than trying to rush and cram one more thing in, we hopped on the water taxi and headed for home. We have since spent a quiet evening reading and blogging. I think I will ask at the front desk if we can stay here through New Year's Eve, then try rustle up some street food. The carts outside are calling my name.

Update: We will be staying in Bangkok through New Year's Eve, and have found a ourselves a posse of fellow backpackers to celebrate with. We will have a real UN intro to 2008 - In Thailand, celebrating with an Indonesian (now living in the US), some Americans, and a Swede (now living in Germany) ...plus whomever else we can convince to come with.

We ended up not having street food for dinner after all. We and the Swede went to a shopping center where he had eaten lunch, and ate at a 'shabu-shabu' chain. Shabu-shabu is a like Japanese fondue, with a bowl of boiling broth at the center of the table, and trays of raw foods delivered to the diners for cooking at the table. My arteries are celebrating the complete absence of meat or fat on the veg and mushroom platter we ordered.

After dinner, we returned to the hostel to see what our roommates 'going out on the town' plans might be. In the lobby, we met an Indonesian-born California girl who was going to see the red-light district. Thailand is known for its sex trade. In fact, quite a few westerners come here purely for 'sex tourism'. Intrigued, we, and about half our floor it seemed, decided to tag along. The district itself was quite fun with bright signs, 'hot' markets selling 'designer' goods, and even a baby elephant that for 20bhat once could buy a bag of elephant food (cucumbers and fruit) and feed. The shows themselves are about what one would expect....more dancing than clothing, and some 'special' tricks. Most of the shows are known as 'ping-pong show', I'll leave the whys up to your imagination.

After going to a 'ping pong show' (when in Rome...),we went to a (somewhat) more legitimate bar. There were still 'working girls' and dancers, but no tricks. Everyone (including the girls) seemed to be having a good time. We actually got into conversations with some of both the clients and staff. One gentleman we talked to has been living in Thailand for seven years, and is a regular at the bar. He flirted goofily (and very drunkenly) with all the ladies, and they seemed to like him. Granted they are paid to do that, but in this case, their attentions seemed almost more friendly or maternal than sexual.

All in all, we had a fun time, and look forward to ringing in the new year in 'The city of Angels'. (Really - that's Bangkok's other name)

Day 197 - After Hours Tourists

We spent the morning planning and re-planning. I had initially planned to take the water route from Cambodia into Laos, but that proved to be both too time-consuming and the one border that did not offer visa at point of entry (Thailand, Vietnam, and China all have open crossing points with Laos - Cambodia, not so much). The new, improved plan was to fly from Phnom Penh to Vientiane, where visas are readily available, but that proved to be prohibitively expensive. After much hemming and hawing, we finally decided to put the water route back on the table, cut at least part of the Buddhist meditation course, and pay a visit to the Lao Embassy in Bangkok. Our taxi driver teased us for wanting to leave Bangkok before the New Year Celebrations (we planned to head into Cambodia on the 30th, but now that's changed too) and tried to convince us that the embassy would be closed. It was not, and within an hour and a half we were in possession of Lao visas. While we waited for the visas to process, we met a very nice older couple who had been born in Laos, but who now live near Denver. They were both human rights workers, traveling all over SE Asia checking up on the community development projects they were running. Their company made the wait much more pleasant, and they had good insights on where to go and stay in Laos.

When we finished at the embassy, we strolled over to a nearby street market to get something to eat. This market seemed to specialise in 'meat on a stick' (called Satay in restaurants) . About $2.50 (70Bhat) got us four tasty sticks and a cold green tea from the convenience store next door. Late lunch in hand - by now it was twenty 'till four - we hailed a cab. It took a few tries to get one who would take us where we wanted to go for a fare we could agree on, but in relatively short order we were chugging through the traffic in air-con comfort. (To think, air con being a hot commodity in December!)

Soon we were back at our lovely hostel munching away in the tiny garden out front and watching the koi in our little moat. We weren't sure what to do with ourselves as it was after four, and most of the monuments we wanted to see closed between 3:30 and 5. We decided to take the sky train and river taxi combo into the monument district anyway, just to look at the places from the outside, and maybe see them with pretty lights.

The staff of the sky train and water taxi were quite friendly and helpful, and we found it very easy to get to the monuments, despite a total lack of Thai language skills. Also, the streets were very clean, quiet, and well-lit. From the guide book's description, we had expected Bangkok to be as hurly-burly and intimidating as Delhi. Perhaps we are a bit immune to hassle other foreigners get because Cz can pass as Thai - several times people have spoken to him in Thai and been surprised when he answered in English.

At the ferry terminal near the temples, there was a bustling market with all sorts of tasty foods and fruits. I finally found mangosteen, which I had been wanting to try since coming to India/SE Asia. They look like large, eggplant-coloured persimmons. Inside, the flesh is snow-white, very sweet, and sectioned like an orange. I had intended to save some for later, but wound up eating the entire half kilo while walking to the temples.

The temples were closed, and most seemed to be behind high walls with closed gates. As we wandered about, though we passed an open gate, and I stepped in and paused, not sure if we were allowed to be there. The sign on the wall clearly stated "temple hours 8:30-16:00", and it was well past '16:00'. A friendly guard saw me standing there looking uncertain, waved us in and invited us to look around. It was completely silent, and completely empty except for a few conservationists doing restoration work, and loads of slinky cats. The photos don't do it justice. Anything yellow in the pictures was in fact, glittering gold. Behind the silent, white pillars (which also had their share of inlay), coloured glass, gold bits, mirrors, and ceramic all competed for space in shimmering murals. Even the undersides of the porch eaves were painted red with gold leaf flowers. A team of gold Buddhas watched over the complex from their niches along the outer wall. The dark night, glittering buildings, and immense silence in the middle of the bustling city truly made the experience feel almost magical.

When we had tired ourselves out in the temples, we strolled back to the river. Logic seemed to say that if the water taxi going upriver was on this side, then the water taxi going downriver would be on the other. Logic didn't have a chance, as the water taxi had stopped running almost an hour ago. At a loss as to how to get home, and now on the worng side of the river, I asked the ticket lady for the cross-river ferry (still running) how to get there. Ticket Lady told us to go back to the other side and catch bus 1. all well and good, except we had no idea where to catch said bus. On the ferry, I asked the ticket taker if the ferry would drop us near the bus stop for bus one. Not only did he confirm that the ferry would drop us near there, he talked another passenger who was going that way, so we would have an escort. That passenger helped us ask a food vendor and two of his customers where to find bus 1. The vendor pointed us in the right direction, and when the bus arrived, the conductor looked at our map, and made sure that we got off at the right place to catch the sky train home. It was a roundabout way home - the water taxi is the most direct route - but a great introduction to the friendly helpfulness of the Thai.

Day 196 - Travel day

Cz's mom left early this morning. Cz spent the rest of they puttering about the apartment and muttering "I miss my mom." While Cz puttered and muttered (and also read the Seoul guidebook), I spent the day planning the next six weeks. Like with packing, I piled up all the places I wanted to see, then tried to squish them into an itinerary. When it proved impossible, I cut a few cities. Still long on sights and short on days, I made the tough decision to cut Vietnam. Disappointing, but I would rather spend more time visiting fewer places in depth than simply buzzing point-to-point.

By 5PM, we were ready to go having gone through E's kitchen like locusts, planned and re-planned our time in SE Asia, and re-packed the packs to airline standards. Our cab driver was very friendly, and got us to the airport in record time. Cz almost had to abandon his walking stick, but the Thai Air people were able to convince the security check people that it was OK.

Thai Air might be vieing for the title of Cz's favourite airline. It was only a two hour flight, yet there were hot towels at takeoff, a snack, juice, unlimited beer or wine, dinner, even brandy after dinner! When we landed, the stewardesses came by and gave every lady on the flight a fresh orchid corsage. And that's in economy class! We are simply not going to know what to do with ourselves when we have to start flying domestic again.

We arrived at our hostel at 11:30PM. The front desk was friendly, and the rooms and bathrooms spotless. Best of all was the lounge area where a group of backpackers were happily chatting away. Cz and I got ourselves sucked into the conversation, and before we knew it, it was 2:30AM. It's not exactly the wild nightlife we expected to keep us up at all hours, but in ways, far more pleasant.

Day 195 - Back to Manila

This morning we left in the dark to catch the first morning flight to Manila. Because we were going to be leaving so early, we packed last night. Our packing habits pretty much sum up our approach to traveling. On the left, you have Cz - everything is carefully pre-rolled and laid out in a particular order from which it will be re-rolled and packed in a pre-ordained configuration. On the right you have my pile. My method of packing is to pile up what I need, then roll, stuff, and squish it into the pack in whatever way seems to fit best at the moment.

The flight went off without a hitch, and E was waiting for us at the airport. He told his boss 'I'm meeting some very important people today', so he was able to take off work and escort us around. Our first stop was church on a hill. I don't remember the name of it, but it was very pretty. There was a wedding taking place when we arrived, so we had to wait outside. This wouldn't have been a problem except that there was a rainstorm of biblical proportions pouring down. Even with an enormous umbrella Cz and I were soaked on the windward side. The poor bride had a wedding dress of the 'fluffy merangue' variety, with a full skirt and long train. There were some acrobatics and mourning of satin sandals involved when she and her dress both tried to fit under an umbrella and make thier way out to the waiting car. Inside the church, despite the grey weather, the wide, stained glass windows glowed with light and colour.

After visiting the church, we had lunch at a restaurant overlooking Lake Taal. While eating, a group of children from a local orphanage and children's shelter caroled and played their ukeleles and guitars. They were very good. The little boy on the right, in particular, really seemed to be enjoying himself, bopping his head and swaying with the songs.

In theory, Lake Taal is one of the best views on Mindanao. Lake Taal is a large lake with an extinct volcano jutting out of it. The crater of the volcano has filled with water forming a deep lake-within-a-lake. Like the 'best views in Nepal' on Poon hill, this one revealed itself for seconds in between waves of fog and misty rain. It was still impressive even in glimpses.

After lunch, it was time for the last round of visiting. This time to the wife of Cz's deceased father's brother and her children ....read, an auntie and cousins. They were all quite lovely, though they did insist on feeding us leche flan (custard), despite the fact that we were still bursting from lunch. I think it's a rule that all generations older than your own must be convinced that you are starving. There was also much laughter when I picked up on a question asked in chabacano before Cz did. To be fair, it was a particularly Spanish-sounding phrase, and I have learned to clue in to key words - case (married), bebe (baby), anak (son), lola (grandma).

Family obligations fulfilled, we headed off to The Mall of Asia for some shameless consumerism. Not really - I just needed a new SE Asia guidebook and a few odds and ends for travel. I was sorely tempted by the ice rink, just to say that I had been ice-skating in the Philippines, but it was too expensive. Mall of Asia is one of the largest malls in the world, and currently all lit up for the holidays. The owner is a phenominally clever - and phenominally wealthy - businessman. Every shop in the mall not only pays rent, but also a share of profit. Furthermore, all stores in the mall are required to process their money through his bank - now the second-largest in the Phils.

By the time we finished shopping, we were all exhausted. Luckily there was a ChowKing in the food copurt for some restorative halo-halo.

Day 194 - Merry Christmas!!!

Maligayang Pasko!!!

We woke up to J, one of the little nephews peeking over the railings of the bunk bed where we were sleeping. Cz's mom called to us to wake up for Christmas breakfast, and apparently that was his go-ahead. Cz wasn't even out of bed when J pounced on him for tickling and playing. We managed to eat breakfast relatively unmolested, safely tucked away behind a set of 'real grownups'. After that though, all bets were off. We were the 'creepy, creepy monsters' and therefore the favourite target of every light-up gun and plastic sword that had been opened the night before. There was no rest for the weary. Apparently even seated, Cz makes a fabulous jungle gym.

Soon it was time to shoehorn ourselves back into the van. To prevent squabbles, Cz wound up buried under not one, but three kids. Who would have thought Cz's bony lap would be such prime territory? The beach was lovely. As one of the little nieces put it "It's a great beach. All sand. No rocks!" The water was warm, the skies blue, and the beach was indeed 'all sand, no rocks.'

The edge of the beach was lined with open-sided bamboo huts with tables and benches. In one hut, Auntie T had laid out a Christmas feast. We stuffed ourselves, posed for a quick family photo, then headed to the water. As designated grown-up for the first wave of swimming, I had my hands full. Not only did I feel responsible for our brood, but also for the half-dozen or so extras that joined them to play (and to stare at my foreignness). One pre-teen came up and cooed "Ooooh your skin is so white." Here most girls want to be paler - everyone wears SPF45+ sunblock, and some even use whiteners. I told her that in America, most white girls want to be brown, and actually lie out in the sun in the summer. She didn't believe me. The smaller ones were all fascinated by my nose - I have gotten very used to *giggle* "Your nose is sooo big!" *giggle, giggle*

After a little while, Cz joined us, and as soon as the kids saw him, they swarmed all over him and the extras dissipated, and I was given a little respite. Not for long though. We made the mistake of introducing 'chicken' and 'whirlpool' and 'one, two, three, toss', and were kept spinning, tossing, and lifting until our hands were pruny, and every muscle sore. I am also now sporting a festive red nose, cheeks and chest. Apparently our sunblock is not completely waterproof.

This Christmas, I think, must be especially nice for Cz and his mom. This is the first holiday in a long time that Cz's mom has been able to spend with her sisters. The last time Cz was in the Philippines was 11 years ago for his grandfather's funeral. Some of the cousins with small children were not much more than children themselves then. Some aunts and uncles he hadn't seen since moving to America 22 years ago. For me this trip was all about meeting new family and trying to keep names straight. For Cz, I imagine it was a reunion or a homecoming of sorts.

We are far away from our physical homes in the States. Home though, is far more complicated than a plot of land or four walls. The feeling of being 'at home' has very little to do with geography, and very much to do with love. Of geography, we have almost nothing this Christmas, but of love, we have plenty. Santa may be riding a caribao (actually saw that one), and the tannenbaum may be palms, but comfy-cozy are we, surrounded by aunts, uncles, cousins, nieces, nephews, lolos, lolas...

I do miss the familiar, my geographical home, and the home of family left in the States, but I also feel awfully blessed by what we have. We wish you all the very best and brightest this holiday season. May you be loved and warm and at peace. Merry Christmas!!! Maligayang Pasko!!!

Maligayang Pasko!!!

Which means, "Merry Christmas!"

Day 193 - Countdown to Christmas

After we consumed an enormous breakfast at Auntie T's, LV picked us up to take us to her home for the family Christmas celebration. Along the way, we picked up R, J, and their respective families. By the time we arrived at Del Monte, there was a lechon, about four bags of other foods, nearly ten kids, and half as many adults crammed in the van. The kids were piled two deep on some laps. All of them were grandchildren of Auntie N, and we suspect a little sibling rivalry in the carpooling scheme.

Almost the first order of business once we arrived at LV's was an equally enormous Christmas lunch - lechon, dinuguan, fruits, sweet potato tops, bread, spaghetti...Afterwards, none of us were very much good for anything more strenuous than playing video games, napping, or reading. Soon though, a horse and two ponies arrived, and all the kids - plus Cz and me - piled out to go riding. The horse was a little feisty, and frightened the children, so I had her almost entirely to myself. Even Cz was cajoled into riding one of the ponies, once he was assured that this particular pony would not run, even if every other horse was taking off around her. Sure enough, as the tiny black pony (the kids' favourite) and my horse cantered back to the house, Cz's trusty mount walked along, calmly nibbling grass whenever it grew tall enough towards her mouth.

Hot and sweaty, we returned to the house and claimed the bathroom for showers. Mass wouldn't be for another 2 hours, but with all the people in the house, we figured that we should claim it when we could.

Christmas Eve mass was held at 6PM in an open-sided church building. It was full to capacity and beyond. Bats and geckos had their own Christmas feast on all the bugs drawn to the light spilling out in all directions from the church. I never thought I would spend a Christmas where mosquitoes would be a consideration! Most Christmas Eve services that I have been to are joyful , but in a restrained 'proper' sort of way. This one was joyful in the way some Southern Baptist churches are joyful. The church teemed with small children, and a troupe of them read the response prayer in relay. After nearly every carol, bells and noisemakers of all sorts would be rung. A Christmas tree and a manger flanked the altar. The Christmas tree was decked out with all sorts of ornaments, even some clumps of detergent 'snow'. The manger held all the traditional figures, but was further endowed with multiple strings of red and green lights, some blinking. The young acolytes, a whole team of them, swung incense and carried candles up and down the aisle and around the altar. I'm not sure what that was all about, but it felt special.

Most years, there would be multiple Christmas Eve services, but this year there was only going to be one. Because all the different groups who would usually be going to their own masses were coming to this one, the congregation spoke many dialects. Rather than choose one dialect over the other, the priest spoke the mass in English. His English was halting, but he managed the whole service. Like any good minister, the homily was place specific, recounting a story of a family moving house by bus (everyone travels by bus around here) who were so concerned over their household goods that they forgot their child.

When the service ended, we all piled back into the van to head back to LV's for Christmas dinner. Which was yet another feast. Afterwards, the children played games, watched movies, and bounced around waiting for midnight. Because, midnight is officially Christmas. And 'Officially Christmas' means time to open presents. Only a few kids and most of the adults (me included) conked out. As the clock ticked down, the noise and excitement built so that soon the whole house was awake. On the stroke of midnight, G, LV's husband set off round after round of fireworks to much cheering and "Merry Christmas"-ing of the adults, and much "NOW can I open my presents?" of the kids. All around the neighborhood, we could see and hear similar flashes, booms, and cheers. It really felt like a celebration.

Back in the house, a midnight 'snack' awaited us. We ate to the tune of new toys being tested, and with frequent interruptions to be shot with light-up guns, watch neon helicopters fly, and cheer on our video game experts. Finally, the gunslingers and gamers started to tire out, and one by one, we all managed to get to bed. With so many people in the house, bodies came to rest nearly everywhere - every couch, every bed, even most of the floor space was occupied.

Even with the crowd and all the ages present - three to seventy-seven - there was not one tantrum or major fight. Just a whole lot of family that seemed happy to be celebrating together.

Day 192 - Christmas Spirit

Cz's mom woke us up this morning at 3:45 to get dressed for Misa de Gallo. I was not pleased.

I managed to stay polite and get myself dressed and out the door, but it's a good thing no one here can read minds. I was stewing. Thinking to myself something along the lines of, "Thre's plenty of masses, why this one, why this early. Grrrrrr. It's just a show of faith. Grrrrr. Everyone goes to Misa de Gallo just so they can show how holy they are Grrrrrrr." Have I mentioned that I don't function in the early morning? Scratch that. I actually like early morning, if I have sufficient time to ease into it. And 'early morning' is 6:30. NOT 4:30.

That said, my mind changed pretty much as soon as we arrived at the church. It was full to overflowing with people spilling out the doors and into the parking lot. Many, us included, brought along their own stools and chairs so that they would have a place to sit. Some of the hymns were Christmas songs that I recognised. This was a big deal, as up to this point all the Christmas music has either been familiar words set to strange tunes, or familiar tunes, not in English, or with different words entirely. It was so great to hear "The First Noel" and "Gloria in Exelsius Deo". I finally felt like it was Christmas and not just another party coming up.

Another thing which lifted my mood was the way in which they performed the Lord's Prayer. I look askance at the church in many ways regarding religious doctrine, but I do believe that it can function well as a community or family. Prayer, I often feel should be a private affair, and ritualised praying in a church often feels stilted and fake. Here, though, the Lord's Prayer is sung as a hymn with the congregation holding hands. It didn't feel particularly holy, as in 'talking to God', but it did feel like here was a strong community, a safe place, a family that would look out for one another beyond blood, and that, I think, is enough.

After mass, it was only just getting light. Cz played on the computer while I read a little. Soon, a drowsy PI came in wanting to play. We bounced around the bed until it was time to go down for breakfast. After breakfast, we puttered online, napped, and played with PI. By lunchtime, family started arriving for tomorrow's Christmas Eve party. We visited for a bit, then I retreated to the room to send out Christmas e-mails and update the blog. PI and Cz soon followed.

We took turns keeping an eye on the kid. I kept a word document up behind the blog so that when she would climb into my lap, she could type to her little heart's content and not mess anything up. While she was occupied with the computer, Cz filled out Christmas cards for all the children. When she got bored with typing, I would switch back to the blog, and he would let her play with cards he wasn't using, and otherwise keep her amused.

This morning, one of the games we played with PI was to let her draw in our journals with both our black pens and the gold pens we had bought for writing Christmas tags. This afternoon, when I finished blogging, I got out Cz's colour pencil set. I figured maybe 15 minutes of quiet playing, but between colouring, sharpening the pencils, and playing with the shavings, PI entertained herself for about 2 hours. She also invented a new game where she would tell me letters, colours, and words to write, and then would spell them out for me. She's a very clever 2 year old, that one.

Day 191 - Cooking and shopping

Strangely, some of the things I have missed most on this trip are the ordinary, day-to-day activities like grocery shopping, cooking, and going to the laundromat. Today I did two out of three. I got permission from Auntie T to use her kitchen, and Cz's mom took me to the market. I spent the bulk of the morning happily puttering around mixing marinades and figuring out how to reproduce the fried eggplant from yesterday's food stall. It turns out to be surprisingly simple.

Ingredients:

Chinese Eggplant
Eggs (enough to coat the eggplant)
Flour (enough to dredge the eggplant)
Oil
Salt to taste

Grill or broil the eggplant whole, stem and all, until the skin is slightly charred and the flesh is tender but not mushy.

Set aside to cool

Lightly beat the eggs in a bowl

Mix a nice amount of salt with the flour in a wide, shallow dish. A pie plate or casserole dish would work well

Peel the eggplant - the skin should pull off easily with your fingers. Leave the stems on.

Flatten the eggplant. I used the side of a wide knife.

Dip in Egg

Dredge both sides in flour

Fry in very hot oil until brown and crispy. It is essential that the oil be quite hot (nearly smoking) as otherwise the eggplants will absorb it an become greasy. They don't need to cook very long - the eggplants are already done, the frying is just to put a nice crust on them.

The weird, red lumps just down from the watermelon are meatloaf. I put some sausages in them for flavour. Turns out the sausages were mostly food colouring, resulting in decidedly lurid meatloaf. Didn't seem to slow anyone down in eating it though. The whitish lumps are fish marinated in a ginger/garlic/soy sauce mixture, then baked. It's really simple, and works with any flavourful fish (ie. bluefish, salmon, mackerel).

After lunch, I blogged for a while, then it was off to the shopping center to get Christmas presents for everybody, and to pick up Cz's barong and glasses. Remember how Cz claims to hate shopping? This trip to the shopping centers - totally his idea. First stop, the barong tailors, where the barong fit perfectly and looked very nice. Next stop, the chaos of last-minute Christmas shoppers to buy 24 picture frames at the discount mall near the barong tailor. Stop 3, the more posh mall to collect Cz's glasses and to develop pictures to go in said frames. Everyone on our list, naughty or nice, is getting a picture of us and a picture of somewhere we've been. If you read this blog before you get yours, just act surprised when you unwrap it.

While waiting for the pictures to print, we had halo-halo...again. The stuff is seriously addictive. Well, Auntie R had halo-halo. The rest of us had variations on the theme of bubble tea.

Home again, we set to work labeling, framing, and wrapping gifts. Auntie R was a big help, and we were done by 11. After we finished wrapping, we went downstairs for a midnight snack, and found Auntie T still awake. The business is so crazy before Christmas that she has no time for a break during the day, and is busy until late at night. She was still up when we went to bed at midnight, and planned to be awake at 4:00 for tomorrow's Misa de Gallo. I don't know how she manages to stay awake, let alone function and stay cheerful.

Several of the family own their own businesses, and all of them work incredibly hard. It is interesting to see how owning a business makes what would be a a 40 hour a week job at someone else's workplace into a 24 hour occupation. It is a little like freelancing I suppose, in that we are consumed at all hours by what we do, but at least we have the freedom to choose our jobs, or say, to leave the country for eight months.

Day 190 - Over the Rainbow

We woke up early this morning to visit the Davao Watershed Park and Eagle Conservation Area. The park was very beautiful with a nice balance of landscaped grounds and rain forest. Tucked in between the planted areas, were various perches and cages for the different raptors that live in the Philippines. The main goal of the park is education about the Davao Watershed, and the breeding and reintroduction of the Philippine Eagle, of which there are only 500 known left in the wild. The Braminy Kite, on the other hand, is quite common. The park had several in residence; some lived in cages, I'm guessing because they had permanent injuries, but others, like this fellow, were free to fly round and keep an eye on the guests.

After the park, we visited the Davao Chinese Cemetery, where Cz's paternal grandmother, Lola S, is buried. Chinese families preferred that their children marry other Chinese. Cz's Grandfather was the first in his family to break that tradition when he chose Lola S for his bride. She had been raised by a Chinese family, but was in fact, Filipina. Furthermore, Chinese ladies were generally not educated (Lola S only went to school through grade 4), as they were expected to stay in the house and take care of the family. Lola S bucked tradition by being the original shopkeeper of the store that preceded where we had dinner last night. In her spare time, she loved gardening, and maintained a flower bed where she could be seen working outside right by the street. Shocking! I can only imagine how appalled Cz's grandparents would be by his decision to marry not only a non-Chinese, but a Whitey foreigner.

We followed our visit to the cemetery with lunch at a street stall. Among the tasty treats were stuffed squid, a version of ceviche, seaweed salad, meat dishes, sauteed green beans, and assorted soups. Cz got especially excited over the flattened, fried eggplant. It tasted pretty uncomplicated (and very nice), so I will try to reproduce it when we get back to Cagayan.

Which is where we headed after lunch. Auntie R, Cz's mom, Cz, and I were lucky enough to catch one of the super-deluxe air-con buses heading to Cagayan. The landscape passing by was a tangle of rumpled green hills draped in strange yellow-grey clouds. Occasionally the sun streaked through the clouds, often splashing dramatic light on the hillsides, and once, even making a HUGE rainbow.

We arrived back in Cagayan shortly after dark, and just in time to hear a group of carolers, all carrying candles and decked out in Santa hats. Traditional Christmas caroling is still alive and well in Cagayan, and it is impossible to go anywhere without a few street urchins coming up and singing for coins. Surprisingly, though, if you give the kids a coin, they all say 'Thank you', and some even sing a thank-you song. Polite street kids! It says a lot for a country when even the street kids are polite.

Day 189 - Davao

We boarded the bus to Davao at midnight last night to visit Cz's father's side of the family. Auntie R would be flying into Davao from Manila, and her plane was scheduled to arrive at 7:00AM. Our bus was due in at 6:30 AM. In theory the sisters who were picking her up from the airport could stop by the bus station and pick us up too. Only the sisters hadn't been told WHO was at the bus station. They only knew that they were going to be picking up 'some people'. It was a happy surprise, and there was much hugging when we all met up.

Soon we arrived at Auntie S's house (the eldest sister), and were introduced to another phalanx of family. Everyone was very sweet and insisted that we drink Milo (like hot chocolate) and eat local bananas and bread. As a child, Cz loved Milo, and his mom would use the Milo to sneak milk, vitamins, and other healthy tidbits (read: tidbits which Cz would normally refuse) into his diet. Cz's aunties were thoroughly amused that his love of Milo had not diminished with age, and this inspired a spate of family remembrances and the introduction of old photo albums.

After our little visit and breakfast, we all went down for a nap. I hadn't slept at all the night before, and Cz and his mom had only gotten six hours of sleep on the bus. As a result, our 'nap' lasted from 10AM until 4PM.

When we were awoken by the merriment of yet more family. This group were the husbands, children, grandchildren, and in-laws (I think) of Cz's dad's sisters. Do you see how everyone being uncle, auntie, or cousin according to age makes sense? You could spend the whole visit just trying to keep relationships straight otherwise. (I still spent most of the visit trying to keep relationships straight...) They had just come from the wedding of a nephew[?], and consequently were in high spirits. Everyone was super-friendly, spoke a little English, and wanted to talk to us. The conversation resolved itself into "So when are you going to make Cz's Mom a grandma?" No surprise there.

The house was still full when we piled into a jeep to sight see around the area. Our first stop was the public beach. The sand was black, whether naturally so, or from pollution, I don't know. Even so the beach was very pretty, and the children splashing in the water didn't seem to care about the state of the water. I imagine they have played in it their whole lives, and have immune systems of steel.

In town, we stopped at the church. The old church was taken down to allow room for a much larger new church to be built. The facade of the old church was left standing, though unfortunately on very busy street, so we weren't able to take a picture from the from to compare scale. The new church seems to be about 4 times the size of the old. Even so, it is still filled to overflowing for Sunday masses. India may have been the most visibly religious country that we have visited, but the Philippines seems most devout.

Cz's dad's family used to own a store at the town crossroads. They joked that their 'Chinese blood' made them good shop owners. To this day, the youngest sister runs a small shop with her husband. After a stop at the open-air market for fish and mangoes, we made our way to her shop for dinner. The 'neighbor's cat' (who sleeps in Auntie M or her daughter's bed, who has been named Puti (white), and who stops by for meals) wanted in on the grilled fish feast. I slipped her little bits of fish all evening. Little did I know that at the end of the meal, she would get all the leftover rice and fish. Her belly was so round that it made her fur stand on end. She slept my lap, all four paws in the air, until the camera flash woke her up. Even then, she didn't seem inclined to move. I can't say that I blamed her.