if you only knew the millions of things I want to say....but don't

Saturday

python cuddles

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Because of the obvious time difference in having crossed the time zone, we jumped 15 hours ahead. So, instead of landing in Manila on the 13th we landed on the 14th Manila time. It’s hard to recall whether or not there were any previous apprehensions over potential jetlag. However, if there were, the exhilaration of being home completely obliterated it. As Raymond took us through the empty streets of Pasay to Creekside Amorsolo [Makati] I found myself blissfully taking in all the familiar sounds of traffic, letting the eyes lazer beam the city scape as fast as his car was driving through it and breathing in that familiar heavily humid tropical air….all while enjoying Raymond and Mike’s jibber jabber of radio stuff mixed in with a little cultural introduction here and there. There really wasn’t much to add to the conversation. To do so would distract from these very first moments back home I’ve been waiting years to inhale with every cell in my body. Raymond and Mike were clearly getting along quite well as they continued their conversation while I got the room paid for with added fees for arriving 10 hours before noon check in …etc. So engaged they were that it seemed as if not a beat was missed between the car and the hotel. It also was nice having someone lug our luggage to our room, unlock/open the room door, start the A/C and make sure we had everything. He was a nice Filipino employee who clearly did his job well. After Raymond bid us goodnight [or good morning with his chortle] we breathed out thankful sighs that we finally made it.

The wifi in the room seemed a bit weak. But strong enough for us to get a skype session in with the kids and let them know we made it. We couldn’t really describe anything to them because it was dark when we got here. Maverick’s voice was cute. In fact, it was so good to hear all their voices.

As Mike’s body quickly settled into deep sleep, to catch up on the traveling lack there of, how in all the glorious wee morning was I to possibly sleep now? Tired? Maybe. But if to blink, much less sleep, Manila life would keep going. Why do anything to miss any of it? So, it wasn’t long and I was up peering through the window blinds and the mind just couldn’t sit still as curiosity of the familiar, but new, surroundings continued to well up inside. A quick walk back out into the tropical humid air, down the hall and into the lobby might help the jacked nerves. Turns out it didn’t. It couldn’t. There was only one solution. STAY AWAKE until I was tired enough to go back to bed. Sure, there’s a risk that morning would come and then sleep would never happen for the day. Yet, there was truly no time to worry about that. There was only time to breathe and enjoy every blessed waking moment home. (SMILE)


The wifi was much stronger out in the dining area.  Air travel photos to be edited were a plenty.  All the USA facebookers were over half their day.  So there was much network socializing that could be done to help occupy the spinning psyche.  



Kimberlee Voss Medlin
too wired and jacked happy since 1am touchdown. blinking or sleeping is probably not a good idea...might miss something. bah! (>_<) the heavy humid outdoor hotel lobby couldn't be anymore perfect in Makati. Antipolo later today
14 May at 05:00 ·  · 

By four am, above and beyond the high rises surrounding the hotel, the skies were showing hue-ing signs of day break. The traffic was becoming a little more alive with the arousing weekend city life. It wasn’t until later that I’d be reminded, by Joyce, of how Sunday traffic in Makati is dead compared to Saturday…and especially weekday traffic. However, what I was witnessing was the typical volume back in Prescott, Prescott Valley or Dewey. [Yes, we’ve lived in all three of those towns…including Chino Valley].

And for the first morning’s amusement, there was the fun of being able to watch the intersection from the balcony dining area. I chortled in amazement as cars, trucks, buses and jeepneys were driving through the intersection as if to be engaging in intersection roulette. Actually, that’s exactly what they were doing. Having never really paid attention to the contradictions between traffic laws/rules and what actually happens in Manila, as a child, what was happening was joyously eye opening. No one really stopped behind the stop sign. In fact, no one stopped at all. Everyone from all four sides raced to the intersection, slowed through it, and inched their way passed, in front of, behind and around each other. Some gave friendly “I’m coming!” beeps. Others really laid on it. Then there were those that were [most likely habitually] in too much of a hurry to wait on anybody else and just barreled through that intersection as only anyone would if they were the only one on the street. The rest of the players were forced to slam on their brakes. I thought about posting details of the amusement on facebook. But then, would anybody really understand or be able to picture this great cultural amusement? No. But, a video clip might do just that. With a little skip in my walk, I quickly made my way back to the room to grab the digital video camera. The time spent recording traffic wasn’t clocked. Most likely, the security guard and breakfast cook were intrigued that anyone would be amused enough to video record something so “duh, don’t you people have cars and traffic in America?” 


The editing skills have yet to be perfected...so it seems a we bit slow...except for the obvious moments of "Oh, my goodness!"  In any other area of the city where there's more traffic it's a hundred times more I-N-T-E-N-S-E.  




Whatever the complimentary breakfast cook was brewing up in the tiny balcony kitchen was beginning to smell fabulous. It was 6am and, as far as I was concerned, it was time to get Mike out of bed and up for the day. He wasn’t allowed to miss anymore of it. It was time to get the rest of the first day on…together. His method of getting ready to shower was to unpack all toiletries in the tiny space that really didn’t have the room for it. It was only a small shower stall, the toilet with the tush sprayer, a pedestal sink and a few small metal shelves above the toilet. I laughed as this was the clear sign he was intent on settling into our future home, despite the fact that this was only a five day stay in the hotel in…a three week workation.


Garlic rice was the constant ingredient of these fabulous complimentary breakfasts. It was like the heavenly icing on the cake. With that there was the choice or sausage, bacon or spam/egg to go with a slice of fruit and a sprig of green. Who would/could resist such a fabulous island breakfast?

After skyping with the kids in the hotel lobby, we walked our way up Legaspi, past Union Church and on to the first Starbucks we spotted….which was on the corner of the first Greenbelt Mall. It was exhilarating to enjoy the most favored mocha frappuccino in Magmarvelous Makati. Then we also paid for an hour’s worth of Starbuck’s wifi service. But we only stayed long enough to text Raymond of where we were with the new plans for him to pick us up there at noon, instead of the hotel. We then walked our big eyed marry way through Greenbelt. As we coincidentally approached a Globe service center on the second floor, the timing couldn’t have been anymore perfect to invest in a SIM card to use in my old blue Verizon phone we brought along…and load some time on it. Then we stopped at what I had mistaken for the newly evolved ShoeMart store of Land Mart. Having been gone for 25 years, it was an easy mistake to be made. The department like surrounding was familiar. Packed as the memory files had recorded of the Makati ShoeMart with people everywhere.
The old building was torn down and a new one was erected with FOUR basement levels and then TWO upper levels from the main floor.


mocha frappin' in Makati on day one
Suddenly, with the help of the mocha frapp, the ladies room was calling. There had been no preparations for what I was about to learn. It was a nice well kept public bathroom. Not the nasty high trafficked stinky stalls of the 80’s. It was beautiful. There was that tush sprayer again. But where was the toilet paper. A quick check of the next stall revealed none. The bladder seemed to get fuller by the second. Nope, none in the next one…or the next one. Yikes! Outside I approached an employee and asked if there was toilet paper. “Yes,” he replied. “You can get tissue.” I followed him back to the toiletry vending machine. After retrieving P5 from Mike [$.12] he showed me how to insert the coins and turn/push the button [by doing it himself] for a small one use pack of tissue. Chortling my way back to the stall, this all seemed so comical. In another section of the memory files was the chapter in 5th American History with Ms. Kaiser of taxation without presentation. To help us get the idea, she made paper money for us to use for hall pass, merienda, recess, lunch..etc. Including bathroom visits. The entire class roared with “What in the world?!” of sorts on the day and in the session in which it clicked why she was putting us through that bizarre ritual of paying to do anything and everything that week. Who would’ve thought that upon my trip home, to a third world country, I would ever find myself paying just to use the bathroom.  [But little did I know I'd have to pay more elsewhere to use a well furnished public bathroom.  Something we Americans take for granted. Oh my bust-out-loud laughing heart]. What an awesome cultural experience just because it would bring back memories…from 5th grade even. There were varying facebook responses to the condensed post from Filipino friends back in Arizona. Marissa said she always took her own toilet paper everywhere. Maricar said she took that and baby wipes. Others were basically chortling with me. This is the funny stuff of life!






Next on the day's agenda was to find a nothing-fancy bag for toting around my cameras and a notebook/pen for recording anything and everything we learn from The Edge staff. The notebook thing quickly evolved into daily for-blog-journaling, in the days and weeks ahead, because there would be no time to log online and blog before or after any day. Nor did I want to stress over it for the sake for capturing the entire fabulous three weeks for detailed storing in future memory files. Because of the long walk from Starbucks there was only enough time to find a perfect white backpack a slim notebook. We caught a taxi back to Starbucks. It took a few tries to learn that there’s actually a designated taxi pick up and drop off. We had a few moments to spare and Raymond texted his approach so we could jump into his car amid the buzzing Saturday shoppers traffic.

The general plan was to drive up towards Antipolo where he had some sort of event I wasn’t in complete understanding of as far as the details go. But first, we would stop at mama Luz’s house. She is the station secretary and has a grand daughter that goes to Faith Academy. Once again, Mike and Raymond were engaged. But this time it was intensely different. There were a lot of facts, goals and revelations shared and tossed about. 98%-99% of it was radio. It was awesome.  Later we would come to learn that the U-turn ramps on Edsa have only been around maybe three years.  There may have been some apprehension with the idea but it's actually pretty ingenious. I simply enjoyed the ride through the streets that seemed to be busting at the seams with that high population of vehicles (cars, trucks, buses, jeepneys, tricycles, bikes, motorcycles), pedestrians, sari sari’s, restaurants, stores…and so much LIFE. This is what I remember mixed with the heat, heavy humidity and smells of sorts. This here is what would overwhelm all senses of any foreigner of a developed nation. It felt like one of those movie moments where the main character stands still and watches the life around them in slow mo. Only, it was all happening in a vehicle. Multiply that life with millions of more people in the scene. That’s intense. That’s the city life on this island. That’s home. That’s yum.

I had heard that so many of the city streets would not be recognizable just because of how built up they were. That was obvious in Makati from the get go. I hadn’t recognized anything but a statue. But it was surprise when we turned into Valley Golf. I asked Raymond if we drove past Brookside. Sure enough. He had. I’d been looking for it but completely missed it. What a blow. Really? How did that happen? 

Valley Golf was familiar…but just barely. Where there used to be open fields on both sides of the road were secured housing, squatters, sari sari stores and more traffic than the memory contained. With a few turns we arrived at Luz’s house and waited for the employees to let her know we had arrived. She was gracious and joyously spirited. Apparently, she’d heard enough about us to be happy to see us. I was intrigued simply
because I was not yet all that familiar with her name and station role. Some Filipinos giggle easily. She is delightfully one of those. A lot of time was spent visiting and getting acquainted with the pets in and around the pleasantly air conditioned house. In the back she gave us the tour of exotic birds and other tamed wildlife. Then at some point her daughter and son-in-law appeared and joined in on the socializing. The eyes nearly fell out of their widened sockets as Mike picked up the python that lay on the white shay rug in lurid beauty. HELLO. Ur…..um….eeeek-o-rama! There was no prior understanding he had any level of fascination with these I-loath reptilians. These literally freaking beauties frighten all things calm out of me. Yet, there Mike sat, in relaxed playful enjoyment with that wow of a thing. Ay nako.



Jeff and Liz were very accommodating and took us around the area to scope out housing. We also took a quick trip up to Faith Academy. I wasn’t emotionally ready but wasn’t going to say no either. The security gate had another, but larger, guard “shack”. The security may be tighter, but at least Jeff had his FA sticker. Wow, the magnificent road leading up to the hill…. The surreal moments were a blitz as Jeff drove around the circle and back out. The view of Makati from the top of the hill was clear, but only because it was a Saturday afternoon in which there had been plenty of time for the weekday city smog to clear out. All of a sudden, it didn’t seem as far away as I had remembered.

Next thing I knew the plans were to wait in their house as they got refreshed for church. Raymond went on to Antipolo. Just for those few moments the Filipino spontaneity was killing me. Would the day have turned out otherwise if with American friends? No, couldn’t really go there. Didn’t want to go there. The goal of the day was to enjoy every surreal blurring moment no matter what. At times it may have felt like I had come home to someone else’s country/territory because of all the changes that didn’t match the memory files…but even at that, there was no need to get stressed over their methods of graciously accommodating us. My Americanized expectations were now getting turned off…and quick, or else regret would get the best of me for spoiling the day for myself.

Back in Jeff and Liz’s van I was getting even more turned around as we got off and back onto Ortigas several times to avoid the congested areas. It was like having let go of the bat in the spin around the bat game. Couldn’t tell north from south or east from west. Had no idea what direction we were driving.  At one point we were all talking about the city driving. There are no speed limits and there are no cop cars to pull anyone over for traffic violations. Nobody stays in any lane. Don't ever look at the other drivers.  Especially if you're  cutting in "line" or cutting through the intersection.  Once you make eye contact, you've given up your right of way.  Speed to the next speezable space.  Create space, somehow, if you have to in order to get ahead.  Honk your horn to let the other drivers know you've done just that.  If the turning lane is not moving and the intersection is not packed, go into the oncoming traffic lanes to get around, through the intersection and make your turn....etc.  Everyone roared in laughter with my chime-in of, "Here lanes are really just a general guide of suggestive direction.  In America they serve as restrictive space in specified directions."

We finally made it to Victory Church at the Fort. [and as I type this three weeks later I still haven’t a clue where “the fort” is]. The church is at least three stories high. I’m impressed for some reason. Can’t quite put my finger on why. Maybe that didn’t matter. Minutes later one of the pastors comes by our near-front seats and we’re introduced to him. It’s not the English service we are in and he chortles his way through telling us how his nose will bleed if he uses too much English for our sakes. Something told me there was an inside joke but I couldn’t quite get that either. The jetlagged brain is feeling a wee bit slow. Yet, how surprising that it’s still functioning as well as it is.   None the less, we all had a good laugh.

One of the praise and worship teams comes out and I’m noticing how young they all seem to be. It 's another reminder  of that median age of the Philippines…22. Wowser. None of the picked songs sound familiar. But, wow….my people are doing praise and worship….in English….and quite well, I might add. Bizarre. Only because it’s radically new to me. A good bizarre, of course. While much of the sermon was in Tagalog, there were enough English words inserted for me to get it. I hear that’s called taglish. Hmmm…learn something new everyday.

We then went on to eat. Seemed like we were in Makati. Maybe we weren’t. Then again, maybe we were. We made our way to another very bulging social life type of area. Shops, restaurants…and so many people out on the town like on any other glorious Saturday night. People here get out.  There may be millions upon millions that have internet access and get on social networks.  But these people get out.  They stay active.  They stay connected face-to-face.  And they do so in BIG numbers.  It's one of those things I SO LOVE about home.  


We sat in Italianni’s. Not sure what location this one was in: Greenbelt, Glorietta, Alabang Town Center, Greenhills, Eastwood, Araneta, Tomas Morato, Mall of Asia, Bonifacio High Street, Trinoma, Robinsons Place Manila, Nuvali Sta Rosa Laguna …..one of those. Well, I knew we weren’t in Greenhills or Mall of Asia. This area of home is quite unfamiliar. The menu appeared to be Italian influenced food. Luz ordered Jeff and Liz’s food while they had gone to find parking for the van. One of the things Mike ordered was fried calamari. He was impressed. Unlike what he’s had in the USA, the calamari practically melted in his mouth. Never thought before that it was tough, but this…this was remarkably better. Didn’t know it could be better. The food was incredible. The waitress was incredible. I couldn’t stop looking around and just think, all these employees [which there seemed to be an awful lot of compared to what you’ll find in any restaurant in the US]…they all seem to enjoy what they do. By comparison, now all waiters in America aren’t as “happy” to be doing what they’re doing in whatever season of life they’re in. These people….my people…they all seem so much more satisfied for the time being. None of them seem to “hate” their jobs. It was nice to see. It was impressive. It was awesome.   It looks like the product of VERY good morale.

Jeff paid for the food. That was nice. We then walked a little bit around the area. In and out of this and that shop. It was fascinating to see one shop specializing in flip flops. Nice flip flops. But pricey. They then dropped us off at our building where the Creekside Hotel resides. It seemed late. But it was great to have had a nice first full day in which new friends were made and we spent an incredibly beautiful amount of time with them. It was adventurous. It was mind blowing, it was fabulous. It was wow. The heavily lazy eyes told me there would be no problem going to sleep.





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