LTO in the not too HAWT outdoors

Monday mornings in the Philippines are just not like American Monday mornings.  Certainly not for me...and most especially not for Mike.  He can explain better for himself, but for me it's just another day.  Wait, not necessarily "just" another day...but it's no different.  Okay, maybe SLIGHTLY different.  That being the weekday routine starts up again with the earlier morning slant for Mike and the boys.  I had planned on visiting a pregnant friend in Cubao.  But Mike said today was his better day to take me to the LTO [Land Transportation Offices] to get my license and so baby O and I agreed... so to speak.

We went to Robinsons East [next to Sta. Lucia] which sits on the corner of  Imelda Ave. and Marcos Hwy.  [Even though these names have left a bitter political after taste in this nation, I'm glad for other sentimental reasons, the names haven't changed].  The LTO office there is next to the Robinson's SuperMarket but only processes license renewals.  Not new licenses...specifically not "international license transfer" from abroad.  Like in most legal processing locations, there are very little awareness signs posted.  One has to ask English speakers around them which window to go to for what.  A nice couple directed me to window #2 where I am told to please go to the main LTO office in Quezon City.  There are a lot of satellite offices placed in malls, but they are only good for license renewal.  Not for getting your first Philippine driver's license.

Fortunately, Mike had already been through the process several months ago.  However, he had gone to Taytay.  It's closer to us [Brookside Hills, Cainta] but outside.  I asked around wondering if the conditions in Quezon City are also outside or inside because the idea of being outside in this tropical heat is rather repelling.  But yes, it's outside in Quezon City too.  Thus, not worth trying to find.  Might as well go to Tatay where Mike is more familiar with the location, process and timing.  At least three hours.  Maybe more.  [I doubt the timing is any faster in Quezon City].

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*driving directions for foreigners in the Cainta/AntiPolo area needing to get their license (you do have a 30 day driving grace period to get your license from date of entry into the country)*

So, from the main road [Ortigas] that goes through Pasig, Cainta [past Brookside Hills Subdivision on the and Valley Golf (which is where Faith Academy is) -both on the left side of Ortigas] and on towards the hills of AntiPolo, stay right where the road forks.  The left goes towards AntiPolo and the right is Manila East Rd. towards Taytay.  You will go under the covered crosswalk of SM Taytay, past a huge Pure Gold grocery store [green and yellow on the left], the Barangay Muzon Hall [left], past St. Clement Catholic cemetery on the left, the road Y's again and you want to stay on Manila East which veers left.  Further down the road you will see LTO on the left.  Blue one story building.  

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Be prepared to enjoy the outdoors.  In the front is a waiting area.  Proceed passed that and to a small window on the side of the building where there are repossessed motorbikes parked along side the opposite wall.  Ask for an application for "transfer of license from abroad".  You then need to proceed to the back where there's an entrance into a group of other offices.  At office "C" you will be taken through the process of finger printing at a little tiny computer stall and give a urine sample.   You also fill out the medical exam paper.  [Ladies, as in any other public restroom, bring tissue paper!]  Above the sink is a little window where you drop off the little urine sample.  There it was P300 pesos [be sure to have EXACT change(!!!)] and then they will direct you to the next office where you will be weighed and your blood pressure is taken.  Oh, and your eyes are checked.  Filipino people are generally very nice and accommodating in these places...all places. Be nice.  Be patient. Be respectful....because they are.  I'm not sure the purpose of the entire physical exam but you can't get out of it if you try. ^_^  No, I didn't try.  All that is pretty smooth.  Was quick for me.  Then you take your filled out app and medical papers back to the side window of the main blue office.  There are places alongside the road, next to the LTO and across the street where you can pay to have someone photo copy your current license [of whatever country you came from] and your passport.  The side window person will need that too with your application and medical papers.

Then you stay there in the back of the main blue building.  This is the part that takes a long wait.  You can expect several hours.  Bring your mobile devices, especially if you have a data plan on them. It will help with passing the time.  The waiting area had brand new blue seats.  I found them to be quite comfortable.  There are a few fans to help give a little relief from the day's heat [depending on the time of year you get this done].  Vendors come through with drinks and meriendas of sorts.  I like the lumpia.  Then of course, just like any other city street, there are several food shanties you can enjoy from if you're not afraid of eating street food.  We love it.  It's ridiculously cheap, it's tasty and ...well,yah.  Good local stuff!

The first call via the loud speaker is for window #2.  They take a picture.  Put out P20 of cash and take a plastic cover with which you can later insert your new license card.  Then you sit and wait some more to be called to window #3.  They take another photo there.  I don't know why two photos.  I didn't ask.  Probably doesn't matter what the answer is either.  Doesn't change your position in the procedure...unless you're just really curious. ^_^  Then you proceed to the front where you wait to be called to Window "F".  That's the cashier window.  They call groups of names, you all line up at that window and pay in turn. I paid about P617.  That would a good long wait too.  Not the line, but to hear my name get called.  But once you've put out P600+ cash you can then proceed back to the back, only wait a few minutes [depending on just how busy they are or are not] and you will be called to window #6 where you will finally get your license in hand with the Philippine flag on it.  

I prayed, on the way to Taytay, and asked the Lord for some rain.  Something to make my LTO epxerience somewhat pleasant with cooler temps.  He heard my cry.  There were plenty of breezes blowing through, the temperature was pleasantly lower than the day before and I was pleasantly surprised with all the provided shade/covering and seating in the waiting areas.  It wasn't the case in the 80's.  I remember missionary friends sweating it out under what little tree shade they could find for hours on end and the stress that comes from that combined with all things entailed with geographical transitioning.  Today's experience was a piece of cake by comparison.  

tropical rain

Mike tried to go to work Thursday morning [augst 9th]. Here's a crowd waiting to cross the flooded area of the road.....

Yah, it's been raining since we got here.  The first time we tried to cross high waters was on our way back from SM Taytay where we purchased more school supplies for Dylan and Tyler.  We almost stalled.  That night the rain came down so hard it sounded as loud as the thunder.  It just wouldn't let up and I was surprised that the electricity never shut off...as it most often does during tropical storms.  Next morning, Tuesday, I got several texts that school was off due to serious flooding throughout the entire city.  That was fine with Mike since he had no intentions of driving through that again.  However, he couldn't exactly go to work either.  So, the kids ended up having no school the rest of the week.  The rains didn't let up until days later.  We got more rain this week than what caused the flooding from Ondoy 2009.

first edge

The early worming [between 4-5am] and night owling [to, or after midnight] are starting to wear and so it was another dilatory morning.  Only, this time....we woke up much later than planned.  Mike squeezed in his breakfast, but not I.  Wanted to do a FBook update.  A text from Ron and one from Raymond asking how we are is the obvious, "Where are ya?"  I like their friendly Filipino nudging method.  

I wasn't prepared for the congested intersection [by the hotel] of bulging traffic and pedestrians on this momentous Monday morning.  Apparently, during the weekdays, there are traffic directors to help keep the pedestrians safe and keep the intersection roulette somewhat tamed.  We took every crossing queue from the surrounding packs of pedestrians.  Once one foot is put out, the rest of the body must follow with speedy caution.  Full commitment is key.  With authority, your right of way must be established and made clear, to all behind the wheel, no matter the level of risk.  Just do it and move like heck.  

Laser beaming the congested traffic, I found myself whelmed again.  Was this day going to be another one of those where it seems there is no place of peace and quiet from the high volume of life?  This city girl had experienced enough country living in America to forget Manila's constant buzz.  There are times when it seems overkill.  There are times when it's at a deceptive lull-like state.  No matter what time it is, the buzz is ever present. New York City does not compare.  The only break is literally out of the city.  For now, after 25 years, it's delightful at whatever state.  I'm oddly exultant of it all.

It's only two blocks to the office building.  As the sun beams and collects 2x the heat atop of the heavily humidity-kinked black strands, there is much appreciation for that short, though sweltering, distance.  Just what I was hoping for when I picked the hotel location....short. Mike finds himself in recalcitrant laughter as he takes a good look at what the short distant walking has done to my hair.  I didn't have the time to straighten out the waves after my shower so it kinked into the new look: African American wanna be.  Yah, kinkier than kinky.  

There is a Seven Eleven right next to the office building.  Not a gas station.  Just the convenient store.  Later in the week we would discover that they are the convenient store chain laying claim to nearly every other block in this business district. [In some cases, every block].  The typically stocked items are similar to American Seven Elevens....with a few added Pinoy faves....of course. 

Stop the Presses.  Approaching the station building was a heart thumper.  It's the other moment we've waited over a year for.  I'm jacked.  He's jacked.  Heck, we're all jacked happy!  There is no A/C in the lobby.  It's a reminder that Manila is the second most expensive place in the world to run electricity.  Hong Kong gets first place.  For a quick moment the mind can't help but wonder how in the world the security "guard" survives these conditions.  Oh, the floor fan.  Unable to recognize our faces, she mutters something tagalog to us.  Amid the surreal moment of anxiety, all I could intelligently muster is a friendly [but quick], "Morning."  She was likely asking where we were headed.  The elevator seems hotter.  The sweat multiplies.  The drab looking 3rd floor is no different.  To the right is the hard-to-miss "The Edge" labeling, on the glass door, at the end of the hallway.  Thump-a-d-thump thump hear that heart beat go.  It's just right after 10am and we've surely missed the staff meeting.  As Mike opens the door, the refreshing wave of A/C air welcomes us in.  The door chimes to our entrance and Raymond is the first friendly face and embrace.  It's the first day we happy hearts get to see Ron, Raymond and Mama Luz in [business] action within the confines of their titles.  Yeah, it's so nice to be here!!!!!

After a few friendly "Hi, my name is..." we make our way towards the "war room" as Ailene and Owie proudly put it.  Aka, conference room.  Looking around on the walls of maps and written on glass, I ask questions trying to get a feel for what happens in here.  Owie and Ailene appear stationary in two seats.  I ask, "Have you all not had your staff meeting yet?"  

"No," they reply.   

"Oh, were you all waiting for us?"  They give friendly nods.  For a fraction of a moment I felt bad... in the rest of the moment [and more to follow] it seemed maybe there was a particular re-assuring reason.  Soaking in these first few moments is such as challenge.  Laser beaming every surface on a first day's [and first hour's] introduction to a new place, where there are faces attached to hearts we want to get to know....trying to absorb it all is almost sensory numbing.  It's easy to miss comments/statements or questions.  A freeze button would've been perfect.  Just long enough to....well, you know.  

Everyone else makes their heart-happy way in.  It feels as if we've finally [and officially] approached the Knight's round table.  Only it's rectangular, in 2011, and it's two combined metal framed banquet tables.  Some contribute a few sweet indulgences to accompany coffee.  Ricki, of Egyptian blood, had just gotten back from Canada and brought something that Joyce was so enthralled over.  He's got three kids that go to Faith Academy and the oldest is a senior. "He has his island girl," Ron chortles.  That was pretty funny.  Hu, an inside joke first made [that's Mike's description of me from the night before].  

Ron starts out with, "This is not going to be the typical staff meeting."  After about ten more sentences, I'm pulling out the HD video camera again and recording....everything.  All the re-introductions that are, this time, accompanied with titles, job/volunteer descriptions, testimonies and enlightening [station, country and culture] factoids of sorts.  This went on for quite some time:  There are 100 million people in the Philippines, There are 14 million [plus] in Manila.  The small town average is 50K.  Cebu looks like the next up and coming Manila business and population wise. The Mall of Asia sees four million people a day.  The Edge radio only has 2 FM frequencies up and running with hopes to have seven total by the end of the year.

There are several youth challenges: Many of the young people don’t have parents raising them because the parents are OFW’s [Overseas Filipino Workers] working overseas to send money back home.  So, it’s the yayas [nannies] that are raising them.  The Philippines has the highest teen pregnancy rate in Asia.  The 2009 statistics showed that seven out of ten pregnant women were teenagers and most of them being under the age of 19.  There were 3.6 million pregnant teens. In a nation where abortion is illegal, 46,000+ abortions are conducted on teenage girls.  Rugby is the name of rubber cement glue most commonly inhaled by street kids.  It’s like a drug.  It is a drug.  The children use to temporary numb their hunger and emotional pains.  I could go on and on with horrifying statistics.  But, for now, the point has been made. 

This is a Christian nation.  There are more Catholics than there are Protestants.  So, everyone knows who Jesus is, who God is.  You are hard pressed to find close minded people, generally speaking.  A new church is planted in the Philippines every minute.  The country has a misplaced love affair with all the negatives of the Western pop culture. The role of the Edge is to simply help establish that personal relationship for the Filipinos with the God they know [of] by providing the God-inspired alternative.  We learned so much from everyone.  Those several hours were packed with more than the hand and pen could keep up with.  It was just absolutely incredible.

This portion of the table gathering was ended with Mike and I giving our own backgrounds, how we came to learn of the Edge, why the interest and what our humble intentions are in joining the Edge team. There were no bulleted notes previously made to go by.  So, it was all verbatim.  Mike has shared his story so many times before and ….even though I wasn’t prepared there was nothing nerve wrecking in giving a brief testimony.  Then Ron had everyone surround us, lay their hands on us, and prayed for the Lord's favor in our process of fundraising for the sake of our quick return.  That was tearfully humbling on another level.

By noon lunch is delivered: Grilled milk fish [I think that's the national fish], lechon manok [like rotisserie chicken], grilled pork skewers, pancit, rice....etc.  Wow, what a magnificent welcome feast.  The pancit was on one of those flat woven round baskets.  We were amazed.  We were humbled.  We definitely felt loved.  How beautiful.  Upon noticing them I quickly turned to Mike and pointed out the calamansi.  "That stuff, you can't live without here.  You have to have it with almost all your Filipino meals."   And there we were enjoying our first meal together as one big radio family.  Ailene blows us away with her encyclopedia-like mind that spits out so much of the history of the Philippines.  I’m just beyond pleasantly impressed.  The country and culture introduction continues over the incredible food.  What incredible fellowship. 

The afternoon starts with the abating of people in the conference room.  Mike and Ron spend an incredible amount of time together in Ron’s office.  They discuss several areas of operation costs, prospects for near future FM frequencies and other important subjects concerning the radio station.  In the mean time, Owie, Ailene, Rory and I delight in a few hours of woman-to-woman talk.  They enjoy getting to know a little more of me and I enjoy getting to know who they are outside the subject of radio.  It’s the kind of thing that women are so good at.  Face-to-face stuff. 

Later Jibby comes walking in.  Another Filam [Filipino American]…. mmmmmm… like me.  As he walks in… in the middle of our conversation, he quickly notices I’m not like…well, like ….hm…. he sits down, looks at me and says, “So, what are you?....”  Screeeeeetch!  What was that he just said?  He quickly goes on to say, “Cuz, you look like a Filipina but you don’t sound like one.”  Wow, that was just too funny.  After all, I could say the same thing about him.  Brown Filipino looking dude with the smooth fluent English like it’s his first language.  Surely, my kinkier than kinky hair left much to be desired as well to this curious inquirer.  The moment just needed to be frozen in time.  There was the considerable need to just soak that all in and laugh as hard as possible…for as long as needed.  Oh, how I longed to in that moment of time.   But instead, I just quickly excused my smooth English as a product of adoption at a young age to an American who had no tagalog speaking skills. 

Late in the afternoon was a scheduled simulcasting in which there’s live feeding to all the other stations.  Ron has it done once a week.  Today it was with Kitchie Nadal.  A well known Filipina rock star.  So, the rest of the afternoon was filled with the simulcasting buzz at high live volume.  It’s just incredible.  It’s in these moments that this is definitely the happening place to be in.  Live music, interviews, people chatting online during the live feed….it’s one of the best party-like atmospheres. 

As the sun is getting lower, we head back out towards the hotel.  Back out to the swarms of people…of traffic.  We decide to try the Sango burger joint.  It’s Japanese.  We’re intrigued.  I can’t remember the name of my dish, but it’s not bad.  However, the senses from the day’s events are still boardering overdone.  At the same time, I want to make sure everything has been sequentially journaled, photos edited and posted for those closely following our journey.  Mike says his burger was loaded with onions.  By the looks of it, in comparison to American standards, it overloaded.  Too bad he hates onions. 

A short texting interaction with Tracer leads us to the days last outing….coffee with Trace.  After dropping off our stuff at the room, we start walked back up Rufino, past the station street and all the way up to Leviste.  It is HAWT and muggy as all get out.  That’s the longest walk we’ve done since our arrival.  Well, the longest without any A/C breaks… which is what we had when walking through Greenbelt on day one.  There’s an under pass at Ayala.  Not sure how old it is, but I’m so thankful it’s there considering how insane the free-for-all pullulating traffic is on Ayala.

Tracer doesn’t want to sit in her hawt condo over hawt coffee.  So, we walked down to the closest Starbucks.  A las…back in A/C.  It truly is a luxury, at times, in such heavy humidity.    We spent so much time yacking and laughing over so much while enjoying my favored mocha frapp…and whatever Tracer and Mike had.  Tracer has the slightly strong personality that goes well with the quirky kind of verbiage I so love.  Hm….Have I found a kindred spirit?  I totally love that girl!  We three talked and cackled.  We did so until 10pm.  It was wonderful.

On the way back we stopped at nearly every convenient store along Leviste looking for apple juice without corn syrup or artificial sweetner.  It seemed an impossible task.  But I needed it to take with the berry green supplement.  We also needed to find some seriously sized water bottles.  I was thirsty.

What an awesome day.  I’m thankful.  We’re thankful.  

OMGosh Greenhills!

This morning 'twas feeling a wee bit dilatory.  Was able to skype with the kids and edit a few photos on the picnik photo editing account.  Wanted to get some of those up on facebook from the day before, before getting on with the day.  So, Mike went ahead to breakfast and then brought back mine to the room.  He then proceeded to the hotel lobby and got online while I did the whole beautifying thing of showering and what not for the day. 

The previous plans were to go to Union Church.  However, since that SIM card ended up not having a slot spot in the old verizon cell phone there was no way to get a hold of Ron and Joyce to get our day's plans to mesh. Not really knowing anyone at the church and if there was any way to catch a familiar face that may have stuck around from over 2 decades ago, I had no desire to walk into Union Church looking like a deer caught in the headlights because that's exactly how it would be.  

The new bright idea was to just taxi over to Greenhills. Heck, why not?  So, we did.  Yesterday's taxi driver was nice and it's intriguing that taxi drivers are quick to talk about the negatives of their country.  Particularly the government corruption.  Naturally wanted to chime in and say America is no different in that sense.  But hmm...  It's one thing to let a native talk down about their country.  It's another thing to add to it because it simply adds to the negativity of the conversation...and possibly shame of their/our country.  So, I'm glad I didn't say anything.  Nice guy, though.  And should anyone, that knows him, be surprised that Mike talks to every taxi driver? Unless they don't respond back because they're elderly, focused on the days work amidst the organized chaotic traffic of Manila and/or speak VERY little English, they carry on a conversation about how much Mike has loved being in the Philippines so far and how he looks forward to moving here.  Some have that Filipino kind of chortle laced with "really?"  It's like they can't believe someone would be that willing and enthusiastic to share how much they want to move and live amongst them.  Maybe that's the lack of self confidence in their country and people.  Maybe not.  It's hard for me to know for sure at this point.  We asked him the best way to MOA [Mall of Asia] and bus tips.  He said to take a taxi to Ortigas and then get on a bus that's labeled Baclaran.  With the journal, there would be no problem remembering this on another day.

We got dropped off close to the Unimart entrance where there was a little fender bender involving a taxi or two.  This is the one place engraved in the memory files, and sealed with fiery wax, of where we often picked up groceries.  It was nice and very well kept.  Mom didn't pick up produce here because it was cheaper to send the house girl to an open market for it.  Not knowing where to really start, Mike just took my lead and the must start was Unimart.  Upon entrance there was a peanut stand and empenadas.  While he insisted on getting a few nuts and empanadas my wandering eyes glazed the other options only to pleasantly find....dried beef TAPA!!!!  Mike loves this stuff.  A kin to beef jerky but SO MUCH better.  Of course, why pass up something so coveted and adored?

                     

It absolutely amazes me how many security guards there are...EVERYwhere.  Yet, quite understandable.  There was another one to the right side of the cashier registers.  Upon my approach he habitually reached out for my bag with one hand and handed me a number tag with another.  Thinking at first that it's the regulation, the trade was made.  But the very idea of leaving my cameras there was rubbing friction real fast...so fast that it wasn't but five seconds and I turned around to retrieve it from him.  He had no problem making another exchange.

The non-food merchandise section wasn't the nice organized look I remembered.  It looked like the beginnings of Wal-mart when it was just a rinky dink store packed with a as many cheaply priced products as possible.  It was good to see imported appliances.  At least now I wouldn't have to worry about trying to ship mine that are only fit for 110v outlets.  These, most likely....of course, are fitted for the 220v outlets here.  Then of course, later we were to pleasantly discover other appliances not imported with better prices.  Lacking sufficient water intake, big water bottles was the purchase....oh, and toilet paper for carrying everywhere.  It was here that I finally  remembered and found that for-blogging notebook.

We then proceeded out towards the rest of Greenhills...into the area I remember being a small food court.  Hmph.  It was gone and replaced with more fashion wear stores and a Cinnabon.  Check that fatning booger of a franchise out.  Smells just as heavenly as the ones back in the USA...but oy!  I hung out here and started filling the first several pages of the for-blogging notebook while Mike did some meandering close by.   He returned with a watch he was more than happy to set on Manila time.  So far, he was in love with Manila, my people and my country.  Being the newbie, he was eating up every moment for different reasons than I.

We then made our way to the center.  I'd been told by several that Greenhills had evolved so much.  So there was some....some preparation.  Yet, not really enough.  It was packed with people.  Packed with more stores and restaurants around the rim.  Packed with more volume.  It was packed.  For the second time the emotions were getting stirred.  For once again, what was to be seen was not matching the memory files.  It was almost unrecognizable.  Another moment in time of just standing there, watching the evolved archaic life on familiar ground continue to buzz about without missing a beat.  It's amazing how the population can apparently multiply as much as it has in twenty five years.  Sure, the rest of the world does too, but not quite as much. [I've got my own theories, but that's for another time].  There is a church that meets every Sunday and their overflow is outside.  So, we could hear bits and pieces of the service.  Feeling the heavy heat we headed back towards the A/C restaurants looking for someplace to grab a bite.

It was then we discovered what no one could've ever prepared me for no matter how hard they tried to describe it.  At first there was the purse/bag kiosks.  "Purse mom.  Bags mom...."  Then there were the shoes kiosks.  It looked as though each one was not only so tightly close and overflowing with products, but they had five-ten retailers just because they were so PACKED with retailers and customers a like.  I doubt they had that many retailers.  But still, the place was just busting at the seems with people.  I remember the days of souvenir shopping out by Manila Bay.  Mayan Philpinas...something-or-other.  But this...this was out of this world insane.  Next thing I know, I've managed to get myself "stuck" at a pearl kiosk and talking deals.  She was happy to give me discounts.  Especially since  bargaining was not something I was aware of as a shopping trait to be had and taken advantage of. Had it been any other time and with a little experience, we could've gotten an even better steal for those beauties.  Once that was taken care of, we quickly headed out because we truly were getting hungry.

I wanted to find Shakey's.  Just for living out memory's sake, that had to be the one familiar thing we could enjoy.  We cut through the food court.  I would've been happy to grab whatever, but Mike seemed to be more interested in finding something else.  So, the hunt for Shakey's continued.  We found ourselves back out on the front side of Greenhills and so we started walking closer towards where I remembered there being a McDonald's around the corner.  But then I found a Shakey's....right next to KFC.  The feel was different.  It wasn't downstairs.  It wasn't dark.  Right in front was a line up of delivery motorbikes.  Neat-O!  The one thing that had to be ordered was the fried chicken and mojos [fried potato slices].  Back in the 80's the chicken and mojos were super greasy and spicey.  As terrible as that sounds, I was hoping that was the one thing that hadn't changed.  Oh, but they had.  Not as spicey and not as greasy.  They were darn tootin' healthier.  Intriguing was the KFC like gravy they came with.  That's not something I remember.  How old was this?

After a refresher belly filling we went back into the shopping mecca where we found more goods...including a borong for Mike.  Something I've always wanted to get him.  For years.  There were hand painted ones too.  Worth the price but the fragile upkeep was not something desirable for contending with.  The girls were funny.  Totally made Mike blush as they fit him with one to see what size he is.  What a crack up.

The straw that seemed to break the shopping camel's back were the guys that worked so hard to sell us the spinning tops.  I'm all for understanding one's need to provide for himself and/or his family.  But this was just amazing.  We pushed the price down.  Then once we took it the other guy tried sell us another by putting it in Mike's bag.  With a firm, "no" from me he smiled and said okay.   These were the same guys that tried to sell Mike DVD's.  DVD's from them is like the NAWT-E kind.  How do you already get Thor and Pirates of the Carribean IV when they just came out in the theatre??  Easy.  Where there is a will there is always a way.  So the whole spinning top thing was overkill just because it was all so much on the first day/experience of the "new Greenhills".  After the move, there's no doubt it will come like old hat because we do like to shopping.

After having asked around about cell phones, we made our way up to the second floor.  We didn't realize that the ENTIRE second floor was dedicated to cell phones.  At one kiosk Mike nearly froze when the fully make upped she retailers answered his price inquiry with their manly voices.  It was a bust-out-loud laughable moment for me.  It was awesome.   We were later told the term is "bakla".  Google it.  They are everywhere and much more open than in America.  I found a little samsung from a young mother of two [or three].  She had her kids with her and she seemed very young...and very nice.  I've never been keen on buying a used cell phone.  So, we got a nice primitive new one.  Woohoo, the SIM card worked and we were in texting business with the rest of the texting capital of the world.

We took refuge outside of the Theatre Mall at the Starbucks.  It was hot.  It was muggy and the A/C was so delightfully refreshing.  It also helped temporarily shelter from the high volume of traffic of people and vehicles.  It's mind blowing how much of it all is built up.  Using Starbuck's wifi leftover hour from Makati, Mike got back on line to retrieve Ron's cell phone number.  It was too loud even inside to compete and call, so he opt to text Ron.  Yeah, we were finally in communication with him!  If it wasn't for the confounded short visit, this would've been one of those moments of insisting on retreating to a quiet place for an all-sensory break.  But no.  The overwhelming moment would have to be contended with yet again, soaked in and enjoyed as much as possible. I started texting Tracey Heppner.  Texting is so friggin' cheap in the Philippines it's truly no laughing matter.  Infact, it makes calling to talk a rich man's communication method.  I most definitely am Filpina because that so works with me.  I loath the phone. Texting is much more doable.  Tracey has the same load provider, Globe, but it wouldn't let me call her.  We wanted to make plans.  But she's a texting fiend too.  So, really...it all worked out.

As we headed out, I continued texting Ron....on the sidewalk, in the taxi...the delightful joy of texting!  I think it took too much time [because it's not a full keyboard], thus frustration, for Mike.  The plan ended up being for Ron and Joyce to meet us back at the hotel at about 7:30pm or so.  The taxi back was slightly quicker.  Again, Mike held another conversation. If it had been journaled, it would've been remembered which taxi driver was the most amusing.  The one to or from Greenhills.  The conversation started out with Mike mentioning how the people of the Philippines are very beautiful.  The driver pleasantly smiles.  Mike wants to know where all the ugly people are because he hasn't seen any.  "We shoot them," the driver says.  We collectively roar with laughter.  Those boys continue their comical conversation with more giggles.  I simply sit back and enjoy the view of monstrous billboards on Edsa hovering over the astounding high volume weekend traffic.

It was nice to catch a few breathers amid the cool A/C air of the hotel room just for a few moments.  At last, we were to meet Ron and Joyce in person.  This was to beat skyping.  On time, they were...and we were headed off to Greenbelt Three.  We parked in the parking garage in front of Italianni's and I nearly laughed out loud.  But it's a good thing I didn't because that's not where we ended up.  After walking a ways and up a few steps to the second floor, there were even more restaurants.   The mind is so blown away at just how many there are....and how many more people there are to take advantage and fill them up. [This un-acclimatized body is bewildered of how anyone could possibly stand the heat and humidity long enough to enjoy sitting outside for fine dining and socialism.  It seemed as though I was the only one experiencing the oozing sweat down from the top of the head to the tip toes.   But, hey...that's why it's called "un-acclimatized", yah?]  Business is booming here for the Koreans and the Chinese and so is employment and entertainment for the Filipinos.  However, if only it was the Filipinos doing more of the development and income streaming from them.

We finally went into a place for fine dining of ethnic Filipino cuisine.  A little upscale.  Very nice.  And wow, more people.  Amid the surrounding high social volume there we were.  At last, the man, who is the face of The Edge radio, and his lovely beauty pageant queen.   Ron seemed like the big kid.  Very eager to share more about how he and his wife got started eons ago [after he moved from Cali as a teenager] and how his career evolved into Christian radio.  Wow.  What a testimony. He smiles and chortles his way from one subject to another.  Although, it's all one big one.  Yet, there are many "chapters" covered. His eagerness and passion are very contagious.  And there's Joyce.  Just a tid bit more on the serious side and very well poised.  Tall.  Attractive.  What a fun pair.  Unfortunately, I didn't have my journal out.  Thus, no note taking.  But maybe this wasn't the time for that as we four were intensely sharing as much as possible.  Still, looking back, it would've been nice to have journaled stuff to fondly refer to in later quiet moments because they shared so much that I now wish I could remember more of.  I did very little sharing.  Grant it, the eyelids were getting jetlaggish.  None-the-less. It seemed more important to be a listener at the time.  Had no desire, whatsoever, to appear like one in need of having as much floor time...or worse, one that likes to hear themselves talk.  We came here to learn....and learn we would.

It's hard to remember the menu choices...but something along the lines of crispy pata, lechon, kare kare, mango salad, rice...it seems like there may have been more ordered.  Oh, yes.  There was an eggy eggplant dish too.  I love all things egg plant in Filipino cuisine.  It's no surprise that crispy pata was a big hit for Mike.  He comes from a pork lovin' family.  Can never go wrong with the garlic rice.  Joyce, apparently, doesn't partake in beef or pork...not since she was sixteen.  She also has that taglish thing down like it's old hat...because it is.  A thing of beauty to envy.  Now I'm even more bothered by my own lack of the national tongue.

There Mike and Ron sat, face-to-face at last, so engaged and practically two peas in a poddish over radio.  Mike gulps it all as if it's just not enough because it involves the uniting of big dreams for the Philippines.  For my people.    There was I nearly overwhelmed as the sensory overload continues.  Blows my mind that these  moment we've waited over a year for is finally happening.  Very surreal.  I would've been fine if it didn't involve dinner.  Just finally being together and sharing was satisfying enough.  If only to freeze such moments in time, be able to come back to it and lap it up like the best ice cream cone.....Yah, maybe a little too lappy sappy.

Joyce suggests gelato and this tongue is so ready to just flap and hang out.  HELLO.  Gawin natin ito.  Let's do this.  Definitely.  Yah, baby.  Something to take the tropical temperature down a little.  Wahoo!!  However, this was going to require some more work by walking all the way to Greenbelt One...and up that second floor too.  This is one of those moments where I start to feel like I've come home to someone else's territory....again.  This entirely newly developed area feels like a maze.  Maybe it's too much to be expecting a quick understanding of  the seemingly complicated layout.  But, wow.  Joyce is fabulous and keeps trying to get to know me more.  The brain can't seem to find all the words and/or bearing to make sense [in answering her questions] because there is still a full distraction of the maze going on at the same time.   But I try. She mentions the affordables like spa  massages, chiropractics and the likes.  $5 for a massage?  Who wouldn't be in?

Joyce orders her favorite, spicy chocolate.  I go for the coconut mango.    The two favorite ingredients are perfectly combined.  The boys? Can't remember. Oh, mint was Mike's.  Still can't remember Ron's. Back outside it seems as though the only things getting cooled down is the mouth and the top of the throat.  We head towards the other side of Greenbelt One for Starbucks.  It's pleasantly familiar from the day before.  After that gelato there is no need to  go for something else sugary.  Otherwise, I would've gladly swilled up another mocha frapp.  The sacred favorite that's purely a delightful freezing piece of heaven.  But talked some more we did.  It's here that Joyce introduces us to the term "bakla".  I am intrigued. Yet, pleasantly so because God is apparently not shut out amongst those in this lifestyle.  It's not a political issue.  It's not an offense.  The subject of God is welcomed.  America, take humbling note.  There was the subject of more women in leadership roles than man and how bossy women are.  For some reason, the way that came out of Joyce's mouth was a complete crack up.  But all that could be mustered in the jetlagged state was a small chortle.

 Ron and Joyce had given us a small gift bag of a few pre packaged Filipino snackies.  mmmm.....!!!  Another fabulously full day enjoyed into the late night.  We two souls are very satisfied for the time being as we lay our bodies to pleasant rest in front of the blasting A/C unit.

look up the verse

fried chicken and mojos

calamari

meat section of Unimart 

python cuddles

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 13^th we landed on the 14^th 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 ·  · 

• Like this item
  

  Kd Sutherlandpalmer, Jeff Rabon, Judi Dill and 6 others like this.
• • 
    

    Joyce Kaiser Shellenberger ENJOY ENJOY ENJOY!! My love to any and all Faith folks you see! : )
    

    14 May at 05:08 · 
  • 
    

    Tracey Heppner Where r u staying?
    

    14 May at 05:13 · 
  • 
    

    Kimberlee Voss Medlin Creekside Amorsolo
    

    14 May at 05:14 · 
  • 
    

    Tracey Heppner Where is that?
    

    14 May at 05:20 · 
  • 
    

    Tracey Heppner Just googles. We r close to you! How long u staying there?
    

    14 May at 05:22 · 
  • 
    

    Barbra Upchurch Are you going to visit Faith Fundamental Baptist Church up in Antipolo? My father started that church.
    

    14 May at 05:26 · 
  • 
    

    Kimberlee Voss Medlin Trace....
    

    14 May at 05:36 · 
  • 
    

    Kimberlee Voss Medlin Trace, I'm here until the 19th...flying down to Cagayan de Oro...then back on the 22nd. super short trip down there. but then here until the 2nd
    

    14 May at 05:38 · 
  • 
    

    Kimberlee Voss Medlin Barbra....will try and look that up
    

    14 May at 05:38 ·  ·  1 person
  • 
    

    Joel Worley Ate, you going back to the old house? Have a great trip and eat lots of great food!
    

    14 May at 07:15 · 
  • 
    

    Sandy Bruce How fun!!!!!! Have a wonderful time!!
    

    14 May at 07:23 · 
  • 
    

    Barbara Cummings Say hi the the old neighbourhood.
    

    14 May at 08:03 · 
  • 
    

    Kimberlee Voss Medlin Yes...going to shutter snap all the old houses including Beverly
    

    14 May at 08:09 ·  ·  1 person

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 5^th 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 5^th 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.