WAITING SHADES, A FEW MEMORIES OF IOWA, AND JOE

Sometimes it is difficult to recall what has transpired in my life over these few short years.  There were times when living here was like riding a roller coaster, yet there were moments when I was in absolute awe of the tranquility which surrounded me. In certain ways, parts of Negros Island is like being back in Iowa, while in other ways, it is totally dissimilar. In comparison to the other locations I have visited around the Philippines, the people on this side of Negros Island are truly friendly.

Himamaylan City - Waiting Shade at the Plaza

When I lived on the island of Cebu, while walking into or back from Balamban, no one talked to you.  When in the town, no one spoke to you either, unless they wanted to sell you something.  Yet, what I have experienced here on Negros is quite the opposite.  More times than not, complete strangers will greet you with a cheerful voice.  In Cebu, if your motorbike should break down, you would be out of luck, unless you had a lot of pesos to get a tow home.  Here, passing Filipinos would not only stop and try to fix your motorbike right there on the side of the highway, but if not repairable right there, someone would offer to tow you home for free, but I always paid them generously for their kind service.  

Yesterday, I was playing Frisbee with the kids in front of the municipal hall (we can only do this on Saturdays and Sundays when the building is closed) and one of my errant throws landed the Frisbee down a rain gutter.  There was no heavy metal cover to access the hole, but you literally had to lift up the concrete slab to get to the Frisbee.  A trike driver was parked nearby at that time.  He walked over and assisted me in lifting up that large slab so Santiago could retrieve the water soaked disc.  In Cebu, payment would have been expected before any assistance was offered, yet that trike driver helped me lower the slab back down, then sat back down on his trike and continued to wait for any potential customer who might walk by.  

Should I be sitting in the waiting shade at the SW corner of the plaza, Ceres Liner bus drivers, mini-bus drivers, trike drivers, and even motorbike drivers will occasionally wave at me or honk their horns as they pass and I have not a clue who they are.  Still for whatever reason, they have found some connection with the foreigner.

Carabalan Road - Waiting Shade atop a Knoll

  Of course, there are several different waiting shades I sit at.  On the back roads, such as Carabalan Road, the children on the trikes will wave at me or yell, “Hey Joe!”   Then at other waiting shades, it is the stares that I receive from those who travel by which give me a chuckle, craning their necks around and wondering why the foreigner is sitting in a waiting shade amid

Binalbagan - Waiting Shade among the Sugarcane Fields

unending fields of sugarcane.  When I was able to travel more, I would usually pick out a waiting shade or two during the day, park the motorbike, and just relax there, enjoying a cooling (albeit very humid) breeze while observing the many vehicles and pedestrians passing by. 

Now, you may think that I am a bit unbalanced doing that, but I will tell you that it is one of the most soothing and content feelings there is.   The first time I remember doing something remotely like the above was when I was in high school back in Iowa.  I would sit along the Des Moines River in Loomis Park and just watch the water slowly flow by.  Or, when the spring floods came to visit, I would park the car at an observation point by the flood gates of the local hydro-electric dam and watch the turbulent and churning water rush through the open gates in an attempt to keep the water level down.  When in college, I would go to the back of Oleson Park and study my homework or just write.  I found that location to be quite

Murray Hill - Little Sioux Iowa - 2005

soothing as the scenic view overlooked the Des Moines River valley on the SW edge of town.  In later years, I found solace in climbing atop Murray Hill  (click on the name to visit the site) in the Loess Hills by Little Sioux, Iowa, observing the farm tractors working the fields, or the movement of distant traffic along Interstate 29, as well as a passing train or two paralleling the interstate.  After sunset, the shimmering lights of the small towns, the moving lights of yon interstate traffic, as well as the mesmerizing constellations above removed whatever stress one might have in their life.  I do recall taking Brad atop that hill one Spring day when he was only four years old and read children’s poetry to him while eating Pistachio’s and just watching the land below……Oh yes, and let us not forget sitting atop the retaining wall at Sergeant Floyd Monument in Sioux City with the Interstate (29) and Missouri River below us.  Brad would eat his “Happy Meal” while I dined on a Cheeseburger and fries.  Once when Brad was all of three years old he was waving at the traffic passing on the Interstate quite a ways below us and after a while complained to me that no one had waved back!

Perhaps that is why I enjoy sitting in waiting shades here in the Philippines so much. I will tell you that they are underutilized by the public and no one ever just sits there to enjoy the World about them and for that I am glad to have those shelters all to myself.

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Since my arrival in Himamaylan City, there is a fish vendor at the old market who I have greeted almost every morning for the past four years.  Embarrassingly, I don’t know his real name, but from the very beginning he has called me “George” while I have called him

Himamaylan City - Joe the Fish Vendor with Jane in back

and his wife “Joe and Jane”.  It has always been the challenge to see who would spy the other first.  When we did see each other, it was a big “Mayong Aga Joe!” (good morning Joe or George) with right hand raised high in the air.   Since he doesn’t understand a word of English and my conversational Ilonggo is rather limited, our interaction pretty much ends there.  Still, I think it is the highlight of his day as he (and of course Jane) have a momentary connection with “the foreigner.”  Nope, no one else there greets me like that, but all will laugh when we acknowledge each other.  It doesn’t take much to make people happy here on the island of paradise.

HEAD COLDS, SPITTING, REPLACEMENT PARTS, & SQUATTERS

When I arrived on the island of Negros back in July of 2011, I began to have head colds at least once or twice each month.  I just figured my immune system had not been introduced to those viral strains and thus for the next eighteen months I was blessed with respiratory infections at least once or more each month.  Finally, the frequency began to lessen as my body adjusted and adapted to those floating germs.  Still, I would be tormented by a viral bout every few months and as I type, I am currently enduring one such infection brought home by my eight year old daughter.  The good thing is that I am not the only one as Toy and Clarisse are both sharing the misery with me.  The one thing I hate about colds here in the Philippines is that one of my nostrils will invariably drain onto the pillow whilst I sleep.  And should I stuff a wad of tissue up that affected nose, for sure the seepage will move to the other side.  We don’t have chicken soup here nor do I take medication as I go by the saying,  “If you take medication for your cold, it will be gone in seven days; and if you do nothing, then the malady will be gone in seven days.” Well, this is day three, only four more to go.

Which leads me to a pet peeve in regard to this tropical land.  When people sneeze or cough, the majority do not cover their faces.  They just let the germs spread as they may and if you are the hapless person within their range, well it sucks to be you.  I am not even going into how they blow their noses without tissue. Another disgusting habit here is the people are constantly spitting on the sidewalk or street.  Last night as I was walking, a middle aged Filipino man coughed up a large glob of phlegm and spat it on the ground next to where I was walking.  I will sit in a waiting shade and watch as bus passengers spit their phlegm out of the windows and onto the highway or sidewalk; the same holds true for those on tricycles or motorbikes, trucks, and even from the high priced cars.  Though what really bothers me is as I pass those same buses, or trikes, motorbikes, trucks, and yes, even cars with my motorbike on the highway, there is the thought that I might have to dodge a flying honker that could be spat by some inconsiderate or indifferent passenger/driver.  At least in the mall, people are a bit more civilized for lack of a better term.  There they will spit in the urinal or toilet…..or wait until they are outside where they can spit by the front door.  For the Filipinos as well as the Filipinas (they do it just as much as the men), it is something that is socially acceptable for them, whereas my kids and I find it quite disgusting. 

One of the biggest challenges I am finding with living in the Philippines is the ability, or should I say inability, to find replacement parts.  Case in point is the plastic seat to our round toilet gave out about two months ago.  It was literally hanging on my one plastic screw as we looked in vain for a new seat.  We started our search in Kabankalan, a city of 150,000 people.  It was the only building supply store in that city which stocked toilet seats but they only had elongated bowls.  We went back there three different times as they kept telling us that the seats were on order, yet nothing ever arrived.  Next we went to a couple of large hardware/home improvement stores in Bacolod, the provincial capital with a population of over 511,000 residents.  Again, it was a feat in futility as all of the seats were, again, for elongated bowls.  In the end, we found padded toilet seats and purchased one out of desperation.  Regrettably, it only lasted three weeks due to its poor plastic and cardboard construction.  So, even though the padded seat is still usable, we are back in the toilet seat search mode once again.

Circuit Relay Switch

Same went for a circuit relay switch for the water dispenser.  It had gone out and we tried to find a replacement part……none could be found.  In the end, a local repair jockey replaced it with a used part from a discarded water cooler.   And finding parts on the internet here are nigh unto impossible.  The internet in the Philippines is not user friendly in that department.

When I go for my walks, I usually carry the camera along for those unique photo opportunities.  I always enjoy walking just before sunrise to beat the overwhelming heat old sol provides and also, except for those wandering dogs….and lots of them, the streets are relatively quiet during that early hour.  The only thing you have to worry about during those brisk walks are the odiferous droppings by the name of, “Watch Your Step.”  In the states, the dogs will use grassy lawns to do their duty, but since there are no grass lawns here, the result is make their deposit somewhere in the street.  There is actually one segment of our walk Toy and I have affectionately labeled Ta-I (pronounced Tah – e) Alley due to the intense droppings therein. 

One morning I was walking along Segovia Street on the way toward

High heel on a native bench

the new market when I spied a pair of high heel shoes forlornly forgotten by someone during the previous evening.  If only that pair could tell their tale of love and loss.  While strolling across the old National Highway bridge, I spied an older home which had been built atop a storm drain.    In this country there are such places as squatter areas where people can build, but not own the land they have built upon.

Storm Drain beneath squatter's home

Sometimes, the owner will let a tenant build a nipa (bamboo house on stilts) on a part of his land, but then the tenant is bound by the owner’s whims.  And nothing is ever permanent for those families.  A large group of squatters are being forced to vacate their abodes by the city.  For whatever reason I do not know, and as of this writing they have not been moved yet, but it is imminent and even though the city said they would find a place for those displaced families, their life long homes will be demolished and gone forever.  Change is not always good here in the Philippines.

Daryl A. Cleveland, a.k.a. Bounder

November 23, 2015

TYPHOON IN-FA, CHILDHOOD DISEASES, TUTORING, AND PSYCHOLOGICALLY CHALLENGED

Currently, several hundred miles east of this island is Typhoon In-Fa.  It is presently a Category 4 typhoon with sustained winds of 126.5 mph and gusts up to 155 mph with swells upwards of 38 feet.  Although it is headed toward the Philippines, forecasters are saying that it will be making a sharp right turn to the northeast within a couple of days.  This has been the track with most of the typhoons in the Western Pacific this year, but I am not complaining.   Besides, those weather systems draw in the moisture laden clouds from either the SW or NE monsoonal flows and they always seem to pass over this island and bless us with copious amounts of precipitation.   Rain without the destructive winds, I can live with that quite easily. 

Within the past year, our house has been blessed with two childhood diseases.  The first one was Chickenpox.  Interestingly, the boys were the ones to suffer that temporary malady, but neither of the girls were afflicted.  I recall when my children in the states were young, they all went through their rite of passage with that youthful ailment.  They were always itching and, as with every other small child, had to pick at the scabs leaving tiny blemishes which would last a lifetime.  No matter how hard we tried to keep them from scratching, it never always worked.  Of course, a couple of months ago, our house was stricken with a case of pink eye (it is called “sore eyes” here).  This time it was the girls and me who endured the inconvenience of teary as well as puss filled eyes while the boys were spared from the infection.  I found it interesting that the two boys would be the only ones to suffer chickenpox while the girls would be the only ones to contract pink eye.  Now, Dengue Fever was not so discriminating.  All of the children, including me, had to endure at one time or another this rampant and potentially fatal disease transmitted by mosquitoes.  One of the major problems with the virus was the victims would not drink enough liquid, become dehydrated, and thus ended up in the hospital with IV’s…..if they could afford it.  For the many poor, it could mean a bleak future if not treated in time especially for the very young as well as the very old.  I always made sure that everyone in this house drank plenty of fluids.   For my children, it was a case of high fever with resulting body rash afterward; whereas for me it also caused the knee joints to swell up, leaving me almost completely debilitated.  I could barely walk without assistance for over a month, and then the knees still pained me for months after that.  And yes, you can be re-infected over and over….fortunately, the subsequent infections are not as severe as the original. 

Carolyn Basoy (l) & Clarisse Baguio (r)

Clarisse has had a classmate stay at our house for the past couple of nights.  Carolyn is sixteen years old and has been tutoring Clarisse in math for the two weeks.  Clarisse gets good grades in all of her other subjects, but struggles with math.  The cost of having this classmate tutor her will be somewhere around ten dollars a month, plus a filling meal when she is here.  I am very proud of the grades my kids have been receiving this past school year. Thankfully they have come to realize the educational opportunities they are being given because of me.  Conversely, I do remember when my son Brad was in eighth grade and getting a D- in Social Studies.  When I informed him that he would not be able to succeed in life or even get into a decent college with those grades….his only retort to that was, “Why are you so upset, I’m not flunking!”  I am just thankful his demeanor changed by the time he began college. 

We have several people who aimlessly wander the streets in our town.  They are not necessarily mentally retarded, but are afflicted with whatever mental illness which causes such conditions.  One, we call (within our house) the plaza lady, is always singing quite loudly when walking and if there is music playing, she will wildly dance to the beat of whatever is coming out of the speakers.   One day, she had a toy gun as she was walking down the street.  I was playing Frisbee at the time when I suddenly heard her yell “Bang! You’re dead!”……followed by, “Maybe not”.  Basically, I observed that when a trike or motor vehicle passed, she shot would aim her plastic weapon at it.  Most adults ignore her as well as the other hapless souls in town, but the students are the ones who are the cruelest with her and them.  They taunt and tease them mercilessly.  We have had discussions at the dinner table about those with mental conditions, how we should show empathy toward them instead of ridicule and be glad that we are not in their situation.   And before we get on our high horse and claim that we Americans are above that type of attitude toward those of like condition, I have also witnessed their mistreatment at the hands of youth and adult alike.  Unfortunately, humanity can be cruel in that regard and as for me, I consider it a sad situation indeed. 

Daryl Cleveland a.k.a.  bounder

November 21, 2015