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.

Day 188 - Christmas is Coming!

Remember the coconuts from the backyard in Abu Sayyaf country? Well, we finally got around to rolling them into candy today. The sweet coconut mixture first had to be shaped into a ball, then rolled in powdered milk, and finally wrapped in coloured cellophane. PI lurked behind in the shadows behind the growing pile like a little troll protecting her loot. (and claiming an occasional 'protector's fee', naturally)

Rolling the candies took much of the morning. Afterwards, Cz and I put on a DVD. We didn't get to watch too much of it though, as PI's nanny was need to help somewhere else in the house, and we were put in charge of entertaining the munchkin. And so, I now present to you, The Toddler Workout!

1. The Baby Bench Press - Lie on one's back with toddler prone on top of you. lift, hold aloft, and lower toddler until giggling ceases. This could be an infinite number of reps.

2. The Toddler Tummy Toner - Lie on one's back as for the Baby Bench Press, but with legs up. Have toddler place feet just above ones knees, and hold her under the arms so that she is mostly upside down. Lower legs to floor and sit up in one motion to turn toddler right side up. Reverse (lower body, raise legs) to flip her upside-down again. As with the Baby Bench Press repeat until giggling stops. Again, could be an infinite number of reps.

Dude, my abs are SORE.

Independent travelers' warning: Do not do any of the above exercises withing earshot/sight of grandbaby wanting in-laws.

I am a klutz. Today I managed to break the doorknob of the bathroom resulting in me trapped inside. PI found this infinitely amusing. It took three of the house staff, a large knife, and removing the doorknob to rescue me. I will be treating all doors with tenderness and respect for the foreseeable future.

Because the family is so busy, they don't have time to go to the hairdresser, so she comes to the house. Today was haircut day, and even I got a little trim. Not enough to be noticeable, just nipped the split ends. When we get to Seattle or NYC, I will go to my regular salon for a proper cut. Nearly 7 months on the road, and my style could best be described as 'shaggy'.

For someone who hates shopping, Cz does an awful lot of it. Today we went on a quest for the perfect barong, the traditional formal shirt of the Philippines. We went to the tailor in the evening, and decided to have dinner at the shopping center near the tailor shop. The Philippines is the only country in the world where McDonalds isn't the number one fast food restaurant. Jollibee holds that crown. The menu has mix of McD standards like burgers and fries, and filipino treats (though mercifully NOT balut eggs - you can buy those from the street vendor outside).

After our 'healthy' dinner at Jollibee, we headed back to Auntie T's house to collect our packs for the bus ride to Davao. Auntie T and F joined us for the ride to the bus station. We decided to conclude our health food kick with a round of halo-halo. Since the last halo-halo picture was taken after the dish had been properly smooshed around (smooshing is essential to mash the goodies on top into the ice on the bottom), we now present to you halo-halo in all its glory.

If the crowds in the shopping center weren't notice enough of the season, we passed lighted displays on every street from the halo-halo restaurant. Christmas is upon us, sunshine, palm tree, and all.

Day 187 - Medical Tourism Part Two

We were woken up this morning by all kinds of commotion from the courtyard beside the house. The courtyard is the staging area for the family's business of Coke and San Miguel distribution. With the holiday party season rapidly approaching, business is booming, and trucks laden with crates roll in and out from early in the morning until well into the night. Everyone is involved somehow. Even little PI tries to do her part.

This part of the post may be TMI, but here's what happened. Travelling messed with my biology, resulting in a 3-week instead of a 4-week menstrual cycle. Annoying in the relative unavailability of tampons on this side of the world (If you are travelling for a long time, and you see tampons, stock up, even if you don't need them. You might not run into them again for months on end.). Doubly annoying in that it made my 8 month supply of birth control run out at month six. Which is how I wound up spending part this afternoon with Auntie T's OBGyn. Who teased me for not making Cz's mom a grandma yet. All the plumbing checked out, and I soon had prescription in hand for another round of pills.

Unfortunately the hospital pharmacy doesn't carry that brand of pill, and the doctor recommended that we go to a Mercury pharmacy. One Mercury lay near to the hospital, the other was in the mall we visited yesterday. Cz, wanting to revisit the video arcade at the mall, coaxed his mom into choosing that branch with promises of another dish of halo halo. The bribe proved sufficient, and soon we were back on yesterday's turf. The line at the mall pharmacy was long, long, long, which made Cz happy. He was able to play video games until he ran out of pesos, and joined us just in time for black gulaman (the treat we chose over halo halo - it's like extreme bubble tea). Cz and I are keeping the prescription close at hand for fear that earnest Aunties and In-Laws might replace the pills with Tic-Tacs in their zeal for grandbabies.

Incidentally, the OBGyn was very friendly. She shares the same last name as one of Cz's dad's very good friends in VA beach. It turns out that her husband and and the VA beach family are from the same neighborhood in the Philippines. That neighborhood is so small that there is a good chance that they are related. Small world, no?

We spent the rest of the afternoon at the spa. We (Cz, Cz's mom, Cousin R- not the one in hospital, obviously -, and I) treated ourselves to a 1 hour foot spa - foot soak, scrub, and massage up to the knee. We should have taken before and after picks of Cz's feet. I think he lost two shoe sizes in callouses. After the foot spa, we went in for an hour-long full body Thai massages. A Thai massage combines kneading with yoga-type bending and stretching, walking on parts of one's body, and in general tossing one about like a rag doll. Afterwards we felt like happy limp noodles. The total cost for over two hours of spa goodness - about $10 each.

After our spa treatment, we went to an all-you-can-eat buffet. The food was far tastier than the $2.50 a head the price would imply, and Uncle/Cousin R kept us laughing for the whole meal. All in all, a very pleasant day.

PS the Uncle R that is in the hospital is showing some signs of improvement.

Day 186 - Medical Tourism

One way the Philippines is trying to develop, is through medical tourism. Medical care in the States for those of us without insurance is stupid expensive. Because of that, Cz and I have not been to any kind of doctor since we had coverage in June of '06. That means that we were overdue for all the standard check-ups.

We have an advantage in medical tourism front in that with family here, we have references to the best doctors the country has to offer. Our medical tour started in Basilan with the dentist, who also happens to be related to us (cousin I think). We both had a full teeth cleaning with all modern equipment and a fluoride treatment. The total bill - $10 each.

It continued today with a trip to the optometrist in Cagayan. We both had our vision checked, and both of us needed new prescriptions. Mine is still very light, so I was able to get new glasses in an hour. Cz's because his vision is technically ranked "bat" requires special order glasses that won't be ready until the 23rd. Even with new frames, (I lost the old ones, and I like these better) my vision check and new glasses came to just under $65. Cz's was more expensive, but still only about half of what he would pay in the States. This is a decidedly unflattering photo of the glasses, but at least the event is documented.

Incidentally, the tasty treat in the bowl is 'halo halo', or Philippine ice cream treat. It's a mound of shaved ice covered in all sorts of sweeties, and then topped with a scoop of ube (ooo-bay) and a scoop of cream ice cream. Ube is a type of yam, naturally that purple colour, and only mildly sweet. I like it a lot, so Cz's mom always has some in her freezer in Virgina Beach when we come to visit her there.

After our shopping adventure, we caught a cab to the hospital. One of Cz's uncles whom we hadn't visited yet, had a stroke last night, and was still in intensive care today. Luckily, both his wife in the States and the eldest son are nurses, so between phone calls and direct observation, the doctor doesn't have any choice but to do a good job. The hospital itself doesn't differ much from a US hospital. It might be a little less frantic and a little less shiny, but there are still the antiseptic smell, the bored children, and the dazed families milling about.

It's too soon to to know what permanent damage the stroke will cause. All we can do is wait, trust the doctors and nurses, and pray. It sounds cheesy, but Christmas is the season of miracles. Perhaps we will have one of our own this year.

Day 185 - Surigao

We made it to Surigao in time for the Misa de Gallo. It was till dark as we entered the church - a small building with simple wooden pews, and open windows. The mass was in Visaya, the local dialect, again with no hymnals, prayer books, or programs. The words and chords to some of the songs were projected on the wall with an old-school overhead projector, but I think that may have been more for the benefit of the guitarist than for the congregation. The church was packed, and everyone seemed to know exactly what to say and do when. As the service went on, it grew lighter and lighter outside, gradually revealing a landscape of lush hills and cloud-swollen skies.

We exited the church into a world of humid fecundity - everywhere life seemed to swarm. The one paved road through town was packed with tricycles, trucks, and bicycles, but most of the congregation disappeared down footpaths worn in the grass and vines between the houses.

Cz's family lived in a house behind a store in the middle of town. We stopped there briefly to collect some flowers and food, then I rode in the truck with the children up to the family farm. No sooner had we arrived, than a caribao-drawn cart appeared to take us back down the hill to collect the grown-ups. Caribao are a type of water buffalo, slightly smaller and lighter than their Indian and African cousins, and infinitely more patient.

At the top of the hill sat the old farmhouse, and the resting place of Uncle N. When Cz's mom went to the states, she left Cz and his brother with his Auntie and Uncle N. This was only a few years after his father had died, so Uncle N was pretty much his father figure in early childhood. A priest spoke, and we lit candles and sprinkled holy water on the grave. That finished, we feasted with more lechon, fish, lumpia, and all manner of good things.

After feasting, the grown-ups were all feeling nappish, and the children wanted to play. "Come on up", R (one of Auntie N's son) said, patting the top of the tomb, "Uncle N is very accommodating." The adults stretched out on the cool marble of his tomb to rest, while the two smallest children scampered over and around it, bouncing an inflatable toy back and forth between themselves, Cz and I. It was a nice affirmation of life, to have so much friendly activity at the gravesite, and to keep family so close even after their bodies are gone.

The view from the farm sprawls out over acres of palms, rice paddies, and a wide lake. When Cz was little, most of the children were allowed down to the lake to swim, but he was too small, or perhaps to scared.

Lolo L (Cz's biological grandfather) loved tuba, a mildly alcoholic drink made from fermented coconut sap. The coconut trees around Uncle N's tomb were outfitted with sap-collecting tubes, and the merriment was set to increase when one of the helpers was sent up the tree to collect a bottle of tuba. The tree had tiny notches cut into its trunk for hand an toe-holds, even so scaling the tree and then balancing on the fronds seemed an impressive feat.

Fortified by tuba (not really we only had a tiny bit, and its not very strong), the patient caribao was brought back. Small children, Cz included when he was little, are given caribao rides the way American children have pony rides. Being that I missed out when I was a kid, the uncles felt that I should make up for lost time. The caribao was very patient, and handled much the same way as an exceedingly docile western horse with large horns.

Back at the family home in town, we visited for while longer, and looked at old family photographs. This one was taken at the silver wedding anniversary of Cz's grandparents. Cz's mom stands on the far right in a floral dress with a black belt. Her sister B, the little girl on the right hand end of the front row, now lives in the states, though her family is still here in the Philippines.

Soon, it was time to catch the bus back to Auntie T's house. (Cz's mom's sister, the youngest girl seated at the left end of the front row) We waited, amid intermittent rain showers, and soon flagged the big yellow bus. Luckily, there were still seats, and I rode with my nose glued to the window ad rumpled green hills, a sunset over the water, even a rainbow rolled by. By the time we reached Butuan, where we needed to change buses for the one to Cagayan, it was dark. We tried - Cz mostly succeeded - in sleeping the rest of the way home. (His momma used to drive him around to make him fall asleep when he was little. He now has a Pavlovian response to being in a moving vehicle. Start the engine, roll five minutes, and ZZZZZZ)

We arrived back in Cagayan shortly before midnight, where Auntie T was waiting...With a snack for us. All the weight we lost trekking will be back with reinforcements before this leg of the trip is done. Soon we were in bed, with the alarm set for 3:30AM. Cz's Mom and Auntie T were going to be up and ready for the next Misa de Gallo. Heathens that we are, Cz and I plan to sleep through til daylight, at least.

Day 184 - Before the Feast

Lumpia (Filipino egg rolls - yes, they are different from Chinese egg rolls) is one of Cz's favourite foods. Whenever we visit his mom in Virginia Beach, he eats a steady diet of lumpia and marinated pork chops. Before we even arrived in the Philippines, before his mom even left the States to meet us here, he was talking about lumpia. He is finally getting his lumpia.

When we arrived at Auntie T's, Cz's lumpia fixation became kind of a joke. The joke materialized in the form of over 300 lumpia. Early in the morning, Auntie T mixed up a huge vat of filling - ground meat, spices, finely chopped veg, and sausages. Someone else bought the rice-flour wrappers. We then spent the next several hours assembling lumpia. Those of unskilled in the art of the lumpia were relegated to separating the wrappers - rather like separating the layers of filo dough for baking. Those with more skill stuffed, rolled and stacked. By 1Pm we ran out of wrappers, and took advantage of the lull to fry up a few and take a union lunch break.

Cz thought he might be able to down all 300 on his own - he has has been known to consume close to 100 in one weekend, and he's gone over 6 months sans lumpia. He would, however, have to share. Tonight was the Christmas party for Auntie T and Uncle J's employees. (They run the Cagayan distribution center for Coke and San Miguel Beer) As with all good Filipino parties, this one involved a huge feast (for which the lumpia was destined) largely prepared by Auntie T and Cz's mom. Cz and PI wrapped gifts for the employees and their families. PI felt that she should get a cut of the goods based on sheer cuteness. Who were we to argue?

At the party, a photographer wandered through the crowd taking family photos. Cz stood on the balcony above taking long exposures of the crowd in the half-light. A lucky coincidence in timing resulted in Cz's camera and the photographer's shutter going at the same time.

Cz has become fascinated with the long exposure feature on his camera. This fascination results occasionally in 'art shots'. (read: Shots that might not look like any recognizable object, but are pretty neat.) This one is the view out the windshield of the bus to Surigao. After the party, we headed to the bus station to catch night bus to Surigao. We left Cagayan at about 10PM, to arrive in Surigao by 3:30. We crossed our fingers that the buses would be running on time, as we were expected at the Misa de Gallo (Mass of the Rooster). So called because it was scheduled for 4:30AM, the time of the roosters crowing.

These early mornings may seem a little strange, but they make sense. It is HOT midday, so most people are active from about 4AM until 12 or 1PM, then generally don't stir again until 5 or 6PM. Furthermore, most people work 6days a week, or have farms, or otherwise places to be by 7:30-8:00AM. As a result mass, family gatherings, etc are all timed before then. I am having a little trouble adjusting to the schedule, as I am generally annoyed if I have to be out of bed before 7 or in it during the day, but I can't deny the logic.

Day 183 - Back in Cagayan

Our bus arrived at 3:00 this morning. Auntie T was already awake and cooking for Uncle J's birthday. Cz's mom stayed up to keep her company while Cz, Lolo, and I all went to bed. People were going to be coming over at 5:00 to sing 'Happy Birthday' and say birthday prayers for Uncle J. We expected to be woken up to join in, but Cz's mom told us that it was OK to stay in bed. At least that's what I heard. Cz slept through Cz's mom coming in and out of the room, the singing, even the consumption of an early morning feast. The feast was supposed to include lechon (roast pig at 5:00AM - oy!), but when they went to pick it up, it was still raw. Even pig-roasters have to sleep sometimes!

After the birthday visitors left at around 6:30, Cz's mom came in looking for laundry. I passed her our clothes. Cz continued sleeping.

At around 10:00 Cz and I finally made our way downstairs. We picked our way through the ample leftovers from the party feast . We spent a lazy rest of the day reading, blogging, and playing with PI. (Cz's littlest niece/cousin) Cz's mom took a well-deserved nap.

Day 182 - Basilan and back to Cagayan

We woke up at early o'clock this morning for mass. The church stood just off of the town square. We arrived early enough that the Christmas lights decorating the trees in the square were still bright in the half-light. The mass was short, and remarkably similar to Lutheran service, the main difference being the 'Hail Mary's', and the asking of saints and angels to intercede on our behalf. (And that, in nutshell is what the 95 Thesis were all about. OK there was more to it than that, but the Hail Mary and the talking to God via the saints versus directly thing are the ones I remember from Catechism) What was most impressive about the mass was the complete lack of hymnals, order of service, or prayer books. Yet somehow, without any printed material at all everyone seemed to know what to say when, and the tune to all the songs. I can't imagine a Protestant service running so smoothly without the 'Book of Common Prayer', program, and hymnal.

After mass, we went to Lolo's (another Lolo) house to say prayers for his deceased wife. She had passed away 40 days before, and as such, today was the day to say lots of prayers to help her out of purgatory and into Heaven. (At least that's what I gather. I am not Catholic, nor even a particularly good Lutheran. Faithful yes, particularly religious, no.) The prayers were followed by eating - naturally. It was much like an Irish wake, only much, much earlier in the morning. The whole lechon was pretty much finished by 8:30AM.

As the party started winding down, we made our way through the neighborhood calling in on all the relatives that weren't at the feast proper. Pretty much this entire neighborhood of Basilan is populated by Cz's mom's family. So much so, in fact, that there are streets named after them. Abu Sayyaf Country, nothing - this is Lazaro country!

We returned home early afternoon to pack and eat again. Uncle T stopped by briefly from work to see us one more time. We would be taking the afternoon fast boat back to Zamboanga, and from there the bus to Cagayan, and he wasn't sure if he would be able to get off work to send us off at the dock. Turns out some of his bosses were going on the same boat, so when he dropped them off, we said goodbye again, and were soon skimming our way back across the water to the relative safety of Auntie T's house, where the biggest danger is from a lechon-induced heart attack.

Day 181 - Abu Sayyaf Country

Uncle T made near constant jokes about Basilan being 'Abu Sayyaf' country. Abu Sayyaf (or Abu Saif) is both the name of a the leader, and a terrorist organisation said to have ties to Al Quaida. They are responsible for much of the violence in the south Philippines, and in Basilan in particular. Remarkably, the people who live in the country remain strikingly calm about the whole thing. One cousin, who lives in Manila, says of the violence, "It's just like TV without the commercials, we don't really dwell on it too much." Or, in Uncle T's case, make jokes. The jokes do have some seriousness to them - the threat is real and present, particularly with my clearly foreign self around, but we were very careful.

We woke up this morning to a mysterious skritch, skratch, KchKchKch noise. We lay in bed guessing what it could be - someone scaling fish, someone using a mortar and pestle - we couldn't figure it out. We finally roused ourselves and moseyed into the kitchen to find Auntie NN scraping the meat out of coconuts with an ingenious stool fitted with a metal scraper. She was going to use the pulp later to make coconut candy.

The coconuts themselves came from the backyard. All the papaya, coconut, vegetables, and greens we ate during our visit really did come from the backyard. At lunch though, when we were served fish and seaweed "from the backyard", the joke was on. Everything, from that moment on was 'from the backyard'. Abu Saif, from the backyard, seems more funny than scary. We even offered to pick some grandkids from the backyard to quell all the questions about us having kids.

Whenever we left the house, we did so in Uncle T's SUV with tinted windows. We rolled the windows down at the (many) Marine checkpoints, but other than that, rode in relative anonymity. One of the first places we visited was the grave of Cz's maternal grandparents, and two maternal uncles - the ones on either side of Cz's mom in age. One died when he was only 26 by a landmine. He was an agricultural engineer, and it was a pure accident. Landmines remain active for years after they are laid, and cost far more civilian lives than they do the soldiers for whom they were intended. The last time Cz was in the Philippines was 11 years ago when the granfather buried here was laid to rest.

The graves lay on farmland still owned by Cz's family, near the house where Cz's mom grew up. The house has been unused for many years, though a family of goats have taken up residence in the lower levels. Most likely the house will stand empty until Basilan is no longer 'Abu Sayyaf country'. Interestingly enough, Cz actually has a plot of land with rubber trees and coconut palms in his name here as part of his inheritance. If it weren't for Abu, we could have our very own 2.2 hectare (about 5 acre) farm in the Philippines.

We spent the rest of the day safe and sound in Uncle t and Auntie N's house. Some lola's and lolo's, aunts, uncles, and cousins stopped by to visit, but it was largely a peaceful and quiet day. It reminded me a little of where I grew up though. I grew up in a small town where everybody knows everyone's business. Sure enough, by the end of the day all the neighbors were chattering about, and wanting to know, 'who is that foreign guest'. And they wanted to know if we were having a baby anytime soon. Are you sensing a theme here?