Celebrated my birthday with the Hash. We caught a break from the rain which made for a mostly pleasant hike, notwithstanding some mud and puddles.
We are On-On!
If this street were ice cream it would be my favorite flavor!
I usually find cause to mutter this word several times during a typical Hash. Yesterday was no exception.
The boys are in the ‘hood!
And in your backyard…
…and all up in your shit.
That’s more like it…
A trail with a view…
In a first for me we crossed the Matain river….
in a banka boat…cool…
better than wading, that’s for sure…
On home was at Johan’s Dive resort featuring this view of the bay…
Drinking beer and reflecting on the day’s journey…
So, at the circle I was made to sit on the ice in honor of my having achieved another birthday. A small cake with a solitary candle was presented and I was instructed to blow out the candle. I silently made a wish that the cake would not be smashed into my face. My wish was not granted.
And then the traditional Hash birthday song was sung:
Well, with all this rain you could expect there would be an influx of those pesky mosquitoes. I’ve actually been rather surprised that my house is not infested, especially given the fact that the shoddy construction of this place allows many points of egress. In Korea and South Carolina I’d have big assed biters buzzing my head at night keeping me awake. Not so much here. What I do have is tiny little insects almost invisible to the eye biting me on the ankles while I sit at my desk faithfully blogging for you, my devoted readers. They seem impervious to the repellent I dutifully apply after each shower. Ah well, as long as I can avoid dengue or some other ‘squito borne disease I’ll count myself lucky!
Jerry, the manager at Treasure Island resort advised me this morning that we have had rain now for 79 straight days, amounting to over 200 inches thus far. Raining as I type this too. Enough already!
That’s Buddy’s “when are you going to get off your lazy ass and take me for a walk?” look. We wound up walking in the rain…
A good afternoon of darts. It was a battle of the sexes, but me and Patrick managed to have enough balls to beat our attractive female opponents.
What’s cookin’ in the crockpot?
Why a tasty (if I do say so myself) pot roast!
All in all I’d call this a good day. Shame I didn’t have anyone here to share it with me.
Man oh man, I’ve got to say that this daily rain is really wearing me down. Honestly, if it rained like this year round I could not live here. It’s a bit depressing.
They tell me rainy season normally ends in September. I’m really looking forward to complaining about how damn hot it is…
Well, nothing to be gained by throwing a tantrum or crying about it I suppose.
They have already started treating me like a big baby at the Alley Cats bar…
In other news, I saw this cartoon today and had to laugh:
It’s good to have some distance from the American political scene though. Treasure Island usually has CNN on when I have breakfast there. The media has gone fucking insane, haven’t they? I really hate to even hear it, it’s disgusting. I sit as far away from the blaring TV as possible. And some mornings I just don’t eat there now to avoid being subjected to that nonsense.
Oh well, it’s fixin’ to be Saturday night in the Barrio. Reckon that means some beers and darts for me.
C’est la vie.
Bad dreamer, what’s your name
Looks like we’re ridin’ on the same train
Looks as though there’ll be more pain
There’s gonna be a Showdown
And it’s rainin’ all over the world
It’s raining all over the world
Tonight, the longest night
She came to me like a friend
She blew in on a southern wind
Now my heart is turned to stone again
There’s gonna be a Showdown
And it’s rainin’ all over the world
It’s raining all over the world
Tonight, the longest night
Yesterday I watched my first Filipino film, a movie called Miss Granny. Here’s the trailer:
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Zn8vbPY_o5s
I’m not going to write a review. I’ll just say that the movie was entertaining overall, cute and sappy in places, full of plot holes, but still enjoyable. Throughout the film I kept thinking that it was very similar to watching a Korean drama. So I had to laugh when I was doing the Google search for the above linked trailer and discovered that the movie is in fact a remake of a 2014 Korean movie of the same name. Go figure.
We saw the movie at Harbor Point Mall on the old Navy base and afterwards dined at a new Korean BBQ joint on the Riverwalk outside the mall.
Had the pork galbi and it was surprisingly good. I’ll definitely be back next time I get the hankering for some grilled Korean meat. They also featured a bulgogi dish that looked great on the menu, but said it served 3-4 persons. Need to bring some friends along for that…
So, who is this “we” I’m talking about?
Marissa took a night off work to join me. That’s about the first time she has done anything to make me think she likes me. Or maybe she just likes movies. One of those….
Honestly, the date night was especially unlikely because Marissa had broken up with me (via text) while I was in Angeles City. I was pretty confused about her reasoning (other than the fact that I had always assumed she just wasn’t really into me). Her message said she was “embarrassed” to be my girlfriend and she accused me of being a “player”. Well, okay then. I asked for some elaboration so I might have some insights into what I had done wrong but she went silent after that.
Now, in my long history of failed relationships I had never had any woman profess to be embarrassed to be with me. And as to being a player, well, I’m about as opposite of being a player as you can get. Hell, two night in Angeles and I didn’t even visit one girly bar. I must be the kind of player who has no game I guess. I came to find out later that this photo was the culprit:
To me, it is an innocent selfie shot of the Hashers riding the Jeepney out to the trail head. To Marissa it was evidence that I was coupled up with that gal sitting next to me in the Jeep. Apparently because we have the same hat (as do all the other Subic Hashers). Yes, typical insane Filipina jealously which I have little tolerance for. But hey, at least she cares!
So, I had a dart tournament on Tuesday which is also a day that Marissa works in Alley Cats where I play. She came in and made a big show of ignoring me. I put up with it for awhile, then I had the waitress send her over a beer. That put her in a tough spot. She works for customer drink commissions so she couldn’t really decline the drink. At first she sat at the bar drinking it, but of course that’s not appropriate either (the customer is paying for the company that comes with the beer). She finally came over and clinked her beer bottle against mine, said thanks for the drink, and went back to bar. I guess one of the other waitresses shamed her into doing the right thing, because after a bit she came and sat down on the stool beside me. Still not talking and her body language made clear she didn’t want to be there.
I started pushing Marissa to talk about the meaning behind her breakup words and she said she didn’t want to talk about it. I let it go, and bought her another beer. Other people at our table were having fun and we started joining in some. By the end of the night we were sharing some laughs. As I left, I thanked her for a good time and she said this was a much better way to end things. I agreed.
I had dart league on Wednesday, a day Marissa is not scheduled to work. So I was surprised when she walked in. I asked her if she was working and she said “no, I just came to see you play”. Hmm. Well, we had another good afternoon and I guess I might have asked her if she wanted to get together sometime. She said let’s see a movie tomorrow. Aren’t you working? She responded it was a slow night anyway. And so that’s how the date came about.
So, where do things stand now? Damned if I know. The truth is our communication barrier remains an issue and honestly we just don’t have a whole lot of common interests. We did have a nice dinner and movie date and I could see myself enjoying her company now and again. Just passing the time, however comfortably and well. One day at a time and all that.
What else?
Well, Buddy loves me. Regardless of whether I’m a player.
And Ester from the bar modeled what could be a new fashion trend…turning underwear into outerwear….
And this pretty much captures my state of being:
And there are worse things in life than being alone.
More photos from the Subic H3 Hash in Angeles on Monday. I didn’t take these but they kind of round out the event.
Here I am heading out…
…and away I go!
The “bridge to nowhere”. As I understand it the bridge was constructed in anticipation of some other development that then never took place. Apparently it connects to nothing.
The locals are making the most of it.
I just can’t imagine living like this…
…but you also have to admire the folks making the best of an impossible situation…
Some of the locals enjoying the riverside…
The river we waded across.
And my triumphant return after successfully completing the trail.
So in a first for most of us I expect, one of the guys brought his friend along. Apparently, he had always wanted to join the Hash House Harriers but died before making it happen. So, the ashes were anointed and he was given a proper Hash name before being dumped in the river..
We did our Subic “outstation” Hash yesterday in Angeles. It didn’t rain the whole way, but it seems that when it wasn’t raining we were wading through water. Not a real difficult trail though which was good given the conditions. Let’s go to the photos…
Loading up the Jeepneys. Destination: the bridge to nowhere.
A well marked trail is always a plus…
Gathering up…
…and we’re off, er, on-on!
Still shocking to see how some folks live in these parts…
Who builds an amusement park in the middle of nowhere? Well, I didn’t see any customers as we walked by…
Jumping across obstacles like this free flowing creek always makes me feel my age. I was successful here though. Surprisingly.
A carabao enjoying his afternoon of grazing was unperturbed by the procession of Hashers passing by….
Muddy but at least not going downhill….
Checking to make sure I was not bringing up the rear. I’m paranoid about getting lost and left…
There was no jumping over this creek. And it was surprisingly deep (up to my waist in the middle).
And then we did my first ever Hash river crossing. Wasn’t as deep as the creek but it was flowing fast enough to make it difficult to keep your feet in places…
But we all made it back “on-home” for the after Hash festivities….
It was actually a good day. Well, that portion of the day was good. The rest of the day pretty much sucked, but that’s a story for another day.
Here I am in rainy Angeles City, Pampanga, Republic of the Philippines. I was born in the other city of angels, Los Angeles. This town is more like my doppelganger. I really have come to despise nearly everything about this place. It’s kind of odd in a way because this was my very first destination in the PI, over ten years ago now. Angeles hasn’t changed so much, perhaps I have.
It’s ugly, dirty, full of beggars and a bunch of losers who call themselves “whore mongers”. About all the town has on offer is the girly bars that cater to that crowd. I honestly couldn’t convince myself to visit the bar district even for old times sake. It not only has no appeal to me, it tends to make me feel depressed. How are these bars different than those in Barretto you may be asking? Well, it’s hard to explain. More mercenary somehow. Bigger isn’t always better perhaps. Anyway, it’s not for me.
Coming into town. Angeles is about an hour and half drive from Subic.
The Orchid Inn. First place I stayed when I came here all those years ago. Still my sentimental favorite for some reason.
It’s older and not as fancy as some of the hotels here, but it has a great pool if you are into that kind of thing.
An Angeles street scene…
And the infamous Walking Street girly bar district.
Jeepney terminal. Jeepney’s are the Filipino mass transit system.
So I came to this crap town for the purpose of participating in a sister Hash’s 40th Anniversary gathering. It was an incredible turnout with over 100 Hashers in attendance. The Hash itself was pretty crappy though. It hadn’t rained all day…until we started the actual Hash. Got soaked and muddy, then the trail turned to shit and we eventually just turned around and retreated. It was a shitty trail.
At the “on-home” Premiere Hotel waiting to depart…
We were transported to and from the trail in four Jeepneys (quite of few of the local Hashers took their private vehicles). I’ll grant that riding in the Jeepney was much more comfortable than the truck we use in Subic. Good thing too, because it was a 40 minute drive to our destination.
Exiting the Jeepneys and preparing to gather for last minute instructions from the Hare.
And then we were “On-On”. The Hare said there were 3 trails, long (8 kms), medium (5 kms) and short (3 kms). Given it was POURING down rain, I opted for the medium trail. As I mentioned it was a disaster and basically rendered impassable by the muddy and steep descent to the river.
Other folks made it all the way though. In fact, we had to wait a good hour or more for the long trail runners to return to the Jeepneys before we departed back to the on-home at the Premiere. Luckily, the Jeepneys were equipped with coolers of beer, so that helped pass the time. I wondered what would happen to anyone left behind. We were WAY out in the wilderness. I know we carefully accounted for everyone who had ridden out in our Jeepney, don’t know if the others bothered to do that or not. Anyway, I survived another Hash, so that’s a good thing.
I was still soaking wet when we got back to the Hotel. I hung around awhile waiting for the food and festivities to commence, but finally gave up and caught a trike back to my place at the Orchid Inn. Somewhere along the way I lost two vape pens. Probably fell out of my pocket getting in or out of the trike.
Took a nice shower and put on dry clothes and went looking for dinner. Sat down at an outside table at Tequila Reef and waited to be served. And waited. And waited. Gave up and went walking around looking for alternatives. Lots of options of course, but I was in a vaping frame of mind and they are very strict on that here. Even the no smoking signs specifically include vaping. Another reason I hate this town! I eventually settled on a little outdoor cafe on Walking street and had some chicken wings. Enjoyed flirting a little with the cute waitress and watching the passerby.
As I mentioned above, I couldn’t stomach the bars so I opted for a massage instead. I got a decent enough one (no happy ending) and was charged 550 pesos, which is way too much for an hour. But I didn’t care. I paid with a 1000 peso note and since they didn’t have change, I gave another hundred and got a 500 peso and 50 peso note in return. I intended to give the masseuse a 50 peso tip but when I got back to my hotel I noted I didn’t have the 500 peso note anymore. Oops. Damn real expensive massage!
Finished the night with a banana split at my hotel bar.
Still raining this morning in this God forsaken burg, but I’ve got another Hash to do this afternoon. Got a message that the intended trail has been scrapped because of the weather and we will be Hashing a more rain-appropriate route of 5 kms instead. Sounds like a plan. Afterwards I’ll be spending another night here at the Orchid. Maybe I’ll be in a better frame of mind and even find a way to enjoy myself…
“Like sands through an hourglass, so are the days of our lives…”
Here’s how my yesterday went.
Buddy is always *ahem* excited to see me in the morning…
Hugs and kisses…
Buddy loves his daily walks through the neighborhood…
“hurry up old man!”
Doesn’t that just get your goat?
Buddy likes to pee here…
…I’m stumped as to why.
We always pause to take in the view.
Last night was the “Ms. Dryden” beauty pageant held at Rum Jungle.
I was asked to be a judge. There were 20+ young ladies competing in three categories–casual wear, lingerie, and swimsuit…
Judge not lest ye be judged. Oh well.
Today I’m heading out to Angeles City for a couple of days. AC is really not a place I enjoy much, but I’m going to participate in the Angeles Hash 40th Anniversary event this afternoon. Tomorrow the Subic Hash will take place in Angeles as well. It’s time for a little change of pace I suppose. And hey, maybe some new blogging material, right?
One of the factors in my choosing Barrio Barretto as my new home town in the Philippines was the robust expat community that resides here. Three months into the life and I’m feeling accepted and comfortable as part of that community.
Which is not to say I’ve made many friends yet. That’s not unusual for me as I’m not quick to open up to strangers and so my relationships tend to rarely progress beyond the acquaintance level. I guess that’s just my comfort zone. I got to thinking about this topic when I came across an article on the science of friendship. Apparently, making friends isn’t much like falling in love at all (at least the love at first sight kind). Friendship requires a pretty significant investment of time:
So what should you do if your social life is lacking? Here, too, the research is instructive. To begin with, don’t dismiss the humble acquaintance. Even interacting with people with whom one has weak social ties has a meaningful influence on well-being. Beyond that, building deeper friendships may be largely a matter of putting in time. A recent study out of the University of Kansas found that it takes about 50 hours of socializing to go from acquaintance to casual friend, an additional 40 hours to become a “real” friend, and a total of 200 hours to become a close friend.
Well, I have plenty of time on my hands these days, but there are probably only a handful of people I can be bothered to spend it with on a regular basis.
The demographics of our humble expat community is pretty squarely in the older category, hell to be honest, you might even call them elderly. Not real surprising I suppose when you consider that almost every foreigner living here is more or less retired. A very small percentage might be doing some type of online business and others have some local business interests. Everyone else is just filling in the days until the days run out. Being in my early 60s, I’d guess I’m at or near the median age. A surprising number of old fuckers at 70+ still loving the Philippines lifestyle. On the lower end of the age spectrum would be the military retirees, some as young as late 40s.
Almost all of us are white, and I’m sorry to report that based on conversations I’ve overheard, a few are blatantly racist. I’m not talking about being un-PC, these folks are 1950s throwbacks. Not quite the Klan, but ignorant assholes regardless. Ah well, just another limiting factor on making friends here.
Of course, the flip side of the coin is there are a fair number of bright and successful folks who can carry on an interesting conversation. I had the pleasure of sitting and chatting with a couple of these guys the other night over drinks at Wet Spot.
Jerry was one of the first people I met when I moved here. Late 60s I reckon and he’s also a walker. I’ve ran into him on the road a couple of times, but we both prefer to walk alone. I also see him and his mistress (a story for another day) at darts on occasion. I’m not sure what he used to do for a living, although some of it involved working as a contractor with DoD. I know he spent time in Korea (long before I was there) and in less desirable locales like Afghanistan. He’s been in the Philippines for well over ten years and knows just about everyone in town. He’s managed bars here in the past and was engaged in some other businesses as well. He pretty much just lives off investments and pensions these days though. Anyway, I learn a lot chatting with him and it’s always enjoyable. He is sponsoring a young woman’s college tuition which is a potential life changing opportunity for her. I really admire that.
The other guy at my table was Dave. Now, I’ve known “of” Dave since my very first visit to the Philippines. He owned a hotel/restaurant/bar in Angeles City back then. A few years ago he sold out and moved to Barretto. He heads up the Dryden Group here, which operates the Maze (a group of 5 bars in one building) and the Paradise Hotel. I’m sure he’s involved in other businesses as well, but you get the picture.
Dave is the MC for the weekly SOB dance competitions. Not a bad little retirement hobby…
Dave is in his 70s and is a retired physician. He was a bigshot with the German company Siemens as well (their medical equipment division). He spends part of his time each week in Manila and a couple of months at his house in The Netherlands. Fascinating man to chat with as you might imagine. Dave’s a good guy to know as he is well connected with the local politicians and on several occasions has interceded with the authorities to bail out foreigners who have done stupid shit (usually while drunk). He’s also big into charitable causes, something that I’m interested in getting more involved in as well. One thing he does is help folks get dental issues resolved. I’ve been shocked at just how many of the young ladies around here are missing teeth. Almost like being back in Arkansas (joke). Anyway, giving someone back their smile would be a big deal with lasting impact. I actually have one of the Hash gals in mind for making an offer of time in the dentist chair.
The point is that there are people around here that I’m looking forward to getting to know better. We may or may not become friends, but I do at least enjoy their company. There is more to life than beer after all. But nothing beats beer and good company to go with it!
Last night I heard from an old friend who just had her heart broken. I was pretty surprised because I know she was crazy about this guy and had gone “all in” to the relationship. And now she is devastated. I really feel bad for her because last time we chatted she was excited like a kid before Christmas waiting for his visit next month (yes, it was one of those long distance relationships which are of course especially fraught with peril).
I’m certainly in no position to give relationship advice (unless you are savvy enough to do the opposite of what I say), but I do know a thing or two about dealing with a broken heart. So I mostly just provided an understanding ear and assured her that she would get through this and come out changed, but stronger, on the other side. As they say, it only hurts until the pain goes away.
I’m ten months removed now for my latest broken heart and of course I’ve moved on with my life. Although this life I’m living here is the life I had intended to share with her. That took some getting used to the first few weeks but it also provided some much needed perspective. We all walk the path we choose in life, if we get lucky someone may choose to walk along beside us. There is no guarantee it will be for a lifetime. That’s the risk you take when you allow yourself to love.
In an odd little coincidence, Facebook “memories” feature shared a photo I’d posted two years ago of the love before the last love, Eun Oke.
This was right after we had first met. The caption on my FB post was “the future is a mystery”.
It turned out to be a very short-lived future as a couple. When I think of her I’m reminded of the Jim Croce lyric: “for every time that we spent laughing there were two times that I cried…”. But hey, no regrets. I still on rare occasions will get a Kakao message from her. Usually when she is drunk. Eun Oke is a good, but flawed, woman. I was just too fragile to deal with her mood swings. I hope she is doing better now.
And of course, this new life is what I salvaged when my previous life was ended on the seemingly capricious whim of the last woman I married. I’ll never understand that and I’ve given up trying. I died, spent time in purgatory, and was reborn in the Philippines.
Will I find a true and lasting love here? I honestly don’t know and maybe what I have is good enough. I’m open to whatever the future might bring but I’m not going to spend my time being sad about the past or lamenting what I don’t have in my life now. It is what it is. I’ll just keeping walking on.
Love hurts, love scars, love wounds
And mars, any heart
Not tough or strong enough
To take a lot of pain, take a lot of pain
Love is like a cloud
Holds a lot of rain
Love hurts…… ooh, ooh love hurts
Some fools think of happiness
Blissfulness, togetherness
Some fools fool themselves I guess
They’re not foolin’ me
I know it isn’t true, I know it isn’t true
Love is just a lie
Made to make you blue
Love hurts…… ooh, ooh love hurts
Ooh, ooh love hurts
Woke up to heavy rain again. Oldtimers here tell me this is the wettest rainy season they’ve seen in years. Perhaps one day years hence I’ll be holding court in the bar talking about the summer rains of ’18. Manila has massive flooding (some 50,000+ displaced) but so far we’ve weathered the weather pretty well this go round in Olongapo. Fingers crossed.
A brief break in the action afforded me the opportunity to take my Buddy out for a walk.
For me the worst part of the rain is that it curtails my walking. Less than 5,000 steps yesterday. Of course, that’s on me and my inherent laziness. I could get off my ass and get wet (like I did for the Hash), but I’ve been using the weather as an excuse to take a nap instead.
I’ve also been blowing off my dietary discipline, consuming carbs and sweets like I did as a fat man. So far at least I’ve managed to keep the scale under 200 pounds, but given my recent lack of exercise I know that won’t last. I’ll get back on the wagon. One day soon.
In light of the morning rain I had breakfast at home. Fresh baked brownies. Damn, they were good! And gone before I could stop myself.
After my nap I headed out to Alley Cats for the dart tourney. I’m still inconsistent, but throwing much better overall these days. Took a second place. The highlight of the afternoon was throwing a 141 out (triple 19, triple 20, double 14) to beat my arch rival. That’s a pretty incredible throw for a non-professional like me. Hey, better to be lucky than good, right? Anyway, that really made my day!
Came back home after darts (around 5:00 pm) and baked up some cornbread to go with the pork roast I’d been cooking in the crockpot.
Still not happy with the meat I’ve been buying. This pork loin roast slow cooked for over 8 hours but was still tough and hard to pull apart. Hence the sacrilege of serving pulled pork BBQ with a fucking steak knife. Ah well, it did in fact taste good, so there’s that.
After eating I was sleepy. I had planned to go back out for a few beers, but it was raining hard and I said fuck it. I was in bed at 8 o’clock. And of course, wide awake at 2:00 a.m.
As you can see, it’s an exciting life I’m living. And it’s good to remember just how much worse it could be.
That was me one year ago drinking $7. beers alone in Anjeong-ri. Now, my beers are a buck a pop and I have lots of friendly folks drinking with me (on my tab of course).
Anyway, it’s all just part of the continuing journey. Excited to find out what’s going to happen next. Stay tuned!
It was a wet day at yesterday’s Hash. No photos to share because I had my phone safely ensconced within a baggie. As expected, the trail was only a challenge because most of it was walked in a driving rainstorm. My review during the Hash circle was the trail was “too much and too little”. I wasn’t asked to elaborate, but my meaning was too much rain, too little trail”. It was all on surface streets, most of which I’ve hiked before, and only took an hour to complete. But that’s okay for a rainy day.
My Buddy don’t give a shit about the rain. Why should I?
It’s a dog’s life.
We did sing a variation of this song at the circle (just change singing to Hashing:
I’m singing in the rain
Just singing in the rain
What a glorious feelin’
I’m happy again
I’m laughing at clouds
So dark up above
The sun’s in my heart
And I’m ready for love
Let the stormy clouds chase
Everyone from the place
Come on with the rain
I’ve a smile on my face
I walk down the lane
With a happy refrain
Just singin’,
Singin’ in the rain
I need to be pampered. Especially at night. Apparently. Didn’t even realize it until after I woke up and saw the bed sheets. What a bunch of crap.
I pampered up Buddy’s breakfast by adding a slice of turkey lunch meat…
Then I braved the rains to get my morning meal of steak and eggs at Mango’s.
The sea at high tide was especially angry this morning. Water splashing up into Mango’s outdoor patio. I often eat out there, but not today!
Next I walked Buddy to the vet for the next in his series of inoculations. I don’t think he liked it much, but he was a trooper about it…
Then I pampered my feet with a foot scrub and pedicure…
And that’s what it’s like to be working at nothing all day. Now it is time to Hash and it promises to be a wet one. Saw the Hare on my way to the salon and he said it was an easy trail with no mountains today. Good plan!
Now that I have running water I can bitch about the power being out this afternoon. Not surprised really. As I was heading out for the pedicure there was a gust of wind and I saw some sparks falling from the power lines. I knew that couldn’t be good. You know, I don’t know much about electricity, but it does occur to me if you allow tree limbs to grow up into the wires you are going to have some problems. Especially when the wind blows. But, no one asked me, so…
And finally there’s this. A young Filipina showed up at last night’s dart tourney wearing this cap:
Is this a great country or what?
UPDATE: Power is back on. Water is back off. The utility God’s must be laughing their asses off. Or I have exceptionally bad Karma. One of those.
Yesterday started out in typical enough fashion. It was raining heavily most of the day, and coupled with some gusty winds I just decided to give up on taking any extended hikes. Not walking does put me somewhat out of sorts though, and I just felt “off” for most of the day.
I did plan to keep my Saturday night date with darts however. But seeing as how I hadn’t had a shower in two days, I needed to book a hotel room first. Luckily, I had a 50% off coupon I won at the SOB raffle on Friday. Got the room for a mere 850 pesos ($16). Had dinner at Dryden’s (a not bad cheeseburger with fries) and took a box of takeout chicken wings for the staff at Alley Cats.
Had a great time at darts. Managed a second place finish in a hard fought and well played finals match. And also had fun interacting (and buying drinks) with the bar staff and customers. My tab was a whopping 2200 pesos ($44), the most I’ve heretofore spent at Alley Cats. I put lots of smiles on the bargirl faces there. Funny thing is back in Korea that was what I’d usually spend on a solitary and depressing night in Anjeong-ri where each of my own beers were costing me $7 or $8 bucks (versus less than $2 here). Glad to spread that windfall savings around.
Marissa was working last night, and after darts I asked if she would like to join me back at the hotel. She was up for that so off we went. It was the first time we had actually spent a whole night sleeping together. I enjoyed that. Had to get up early though and get back to the house to let the construction workers in to do their thing. And it is all coming along nicely. Even got my dart board hung today!
And then guess what happened? I turned on the tap in the kitchen and by God I had running water for the first time in almost two weeks! I can’t begin to express just how exciting that was for me.
And so hopefully last night was my last night in Paradise!
Today marks three months of living in the Philippines. And while things can always be better, on balance my life here is generally good.
I’m more and more integrated into the expat community with each passing day. It’s a small town and so I recognize and am recognized by my fellow (non) citizens. For the most part they seem to be a pretty good group of gents. And it is easy enough to avoid the exceptions.
My interactions with the locals is pretty much limited to those who provide the services I consume. And even here I’m made to feel like a regular, almost always greeted by name and an honorific (kuya John or sir John). A small thing perhaps, but it does make me feel at home.
Of course, there are frustrations. It is outrageous that I’ve been without water for going on two weeks. Totally unacceptable and totally nothing I can do about it. Heh, even the hotel staff knows me by name now. I also get discouraged that some basic items I’m accustomed to consuming are not available in the stores. I’ll be bringing an empty suitcase when I return to the USA in October to help alleviate those shortages.
And my love life. I did expect that some lucky gal would have snatched me up by now. Yes, there is Marissa. But more and more I realize as nice and as pleasant as she might be, she is not going to be “the one” for me. We had a nice enough date last night, but today I woke up knowing that I’m very likely heading for a train wreck. I need to find the courage to jump off before someone gets hurt. Or else I need to learn to stop being an all or nothing kind of guy. One of those.
Anyway, one of my goals in living here was to find ways to make a difference. To be making life a little better for some by my presence. I’ve got a ways to go in that regard, but in some ways I’ve been at least a small help to others. My helper Teri has a decent job now. My driver Donnie seems to appreciate the work I throw his way. The caretaker Tony gets a little extra cash from me each week. I’ve done some acts of charity for people I know in need. It can be overwhelming because so many here have so little and you can’t help them all. But, I do the best I can and take some satisfaction from that at least.
Going forward I’d like to find a project or projects within my budget that could potentially change a life. One thing I’m considering is the possibility of sponsoring a student’s college tuition, at least in part. It would have to be the right person in the right circumstances, but the potential for helping someone move out of the cycle of poverty is pretty compelling. I’m not sure how to go about that, a scholarship perhaps, or maybe I’ll encounter a deserving individual along the way. We’ll see.
I don’t really consider it charity, but I do buy my share of lady drinks for the working girls I meet in the bars. Such a small thing can make a big difference. You don’t always realize that, at least I didn’t. One night one of the dancers offered me a chair massage. I always say no to that, but this one had such a look of desperation in her eyes that I assented. When she finished, I gave her 100 pesos ($2). You could see the relief in her face as she confided to me “now I can buy my baby some rice on the way home. Thank you!”. Fuck.
When you bring a gal down for a drink they all ask the same basic questions, including “where you from?” and “where you stay?”. I guess I look like tourist (well, I do tend to dress a little nicer than most of my fellow expats, but that’s not saying much). They always seem to be surprised when I respond that I’m living here in Barretto. Their follow-up question is invariably “how long you stay here?” to which I truthfully answer “until I die”. How long that will be is anyone’s guess.
Although it did get me thinking about just how I might die here. I’ve come up with ten ways, in descending order (least likely to most likely). Here they are:
10. Killed by a jealous Pinoy boyfriend. This isn’t too likely I suspect because I hope I’d do a better job of vetting any potential mates so as to know if they had a boyfriend at home. Still, it happens. Especially with bargirls.
9. Pissing off the wrong person. Face is a big thing in this country and you don’t want to cause a Filipino to lose face when a hitman can be hired for a hundred bucks. I’m not the most patient person around so I need to work hard at my mantra “deep breath, relax, accept the Filipino way”.
8. Lack of quality health care. Okay, well there are two decent hospitals nearby, another a couple of hours away in Angeles, and the best (St. Luke’s) down in Manila. So it is as much as matter of what, when and where as anything else I suppose. Something really serious I could hopefully fly to the USA, but you don’t always get that much advance warning. Everything is always a roll of the dice, right?
7. Fucked to death by a horny Filipina. What a way to go though! This actually kinda almost happened once prior to my COPD diagnosis. I couldn’t breath but my partner was bound and determined to get off before she got off. Anyway, I’m in better shape now and I’m confident I can hold my own with any sexy girl I might encounter. Or die trying!
6. Liver failure. Okay, it’s no secret that I drink a lot of beers. Several a day, every day. I am drinking light beer with low alcohol content which ought to not be so taxing on my liver to process. But again, we all have to die of something, and I’m not giving up my beer.
5. Trike wreck. I prefer walking to taking the most common means of local transport, the tricycle. They are uncomfortable and unsafe and the drivers routinely ignore common sense traffic laws. Still, they are perhaps safer than walking home in the dark late at night or when there is monsoon rainfall. What are the odds?
The ubiquitous trike on the National Highway in Barretto.
4. Killed by my driver. Speaking of death by traffic, my driver Donnie may very well be the death of me. He drives like a fucking maniac. But honestly, so does nearly everyone else in this country. Scary though it may be, he is effective in getting me to where I’m going in the shortest time possible. Not that I’m dying to get anywhere in a hurry.
3. Hashing. Regular readers have seen my weekly Hash reports. I’m often one false step away from disaster. So, the trick I guess is not taking that step.
2. The National Highway. My walking and bar adventures generally require me to cross the highway a couple of times a day. I’m getting better at it I think. It’s all about timing, in a Frogger kind of way. I had one close call a couple of years ago after which I was advised to cross “when the Filipinos do”. I guess I’m going native. They are in the process of widening the highway from two lanes to four. That may prove to be the death of me.
1. Peacefully in my sleep. Hey, I’m an optimist. It could happen. In twenty years or so.
I’m not scared of dying
and I don’t really care
If it’s peace you find in dying,
well, then let the time be near
If it’s peace you find in dying,
when dying time is here,
Just bundle up my coffin cause
it’s cold way down there
My troubles are many, they’re as deep as a well
I can swear there ain’t no heaven but I pray there ain’t no hell
Swear there ain’t no heaven and pray there ain’t no hell,
But I’ll never know by living, only my dying will tell,
Only my dying will tell, yeah, only my dying will tell
And when I die and when I’m gone,
There’ll be one child born and a world to carry on, to carry on
Give me my freedom for as long as I be
All I ask of living is to have no chains on me
All I ask of living is to have no chains on me,
And all I ask of dying is to go naturally, only want to go naturally
Don’t want to go by the devil, don’t want to go by the demon,
Don’t want to go by Satan, don’t want to die uneasy,
Just let me go naturally
And when I die and when I’m gone,
There’ll be one child born to carry on.
An all day rain sure does throw me out of sync. But it’s still the only running water in the neighborhood.
Walked over to my rented room at The Pub hotel for a shower and shave just before checkout time. Came home and gave Buddy a walk during a brief lull in the storm.
Now what? I may have to resort to watching YouTube videos. Just so you know, not every day here is filled with excitement and adventure.
Rainy day people
Always seem to know when you’re feeling blue
High steppin’ strutters who land in the gutter
Sometimes need one too
Take it or leave it
Or try to believe it
If you’ve been down too long
Rainy day lovers don’t hide love inside
They just pass it on
That’s actually my street and my house in the background. I think the road collapse is possibly related to the issues with the water in the subdivision. Which still is not fixed.
Had a goodly long walk this morning, but there are some streets you just should not walk down.
I took this as a sign that this is one of them…
Had a big fight with Marissa last night (the screaming at her on the street kind) which of course upon *ahem* sober reflection I regretted. I won’t go into details here, suffice to say we have a large gap between my expectations for a girlfriend experience and her ability to deliver.
That is exactly what I had planned to do, but then…
Marissa showed up at my dart league match today. And we talked. After darts I took her for a dinner of some Korean grilled pork belly and we talked some more. Then we had makeup sex.
So. She doesn’t fulfill all my needs. But she does an excellent job fulfilling the ones she does. And perhaps it is my expectations that need adjusting. She can’t be or replace the woman who broke my heart. I’m going to try (again) to let Marissa be who she is and accept that for what it is. At least for now.
A Frenchman a-sits in the loo
with some shit perched atop o’ his shoe
he craps; his teeth gnash
and the feces doth splash
in the end, he be proud of his poo
—Kevin Kim
In a first in the long and storied history of LTG, an original Hash-style poem, written by fellow blogger and friend Kevin Kim. See the comments on this post for the provenance of the poem, written in and translated from the original French. It seems like an appropriate way to kick off this week’s Hash House Harrier report, don’t you think?
Trails and Travails.
As is our custom, we loaded up in the Hashmobile and were driven a goodly distance out to downtown Subic where we commenced our hike.
And we are ON-ON!
Wherever I may be on-trail I try and appreciate the scenery. *ahem*
Over the river and to the woods we go!
I’m sure this lad must have found a troop of mostly foreigners marching by a little fishy…
Leaving the world of pavement behind…
Always amazed at the folks who live life truly off the grid. And I complain about not having running water (and I still DON”T have water by the way).
I’d check periodically to make sure I wasn’t bringing up the rear. Didn’t want to be left alone on trail again this week…
All’s clear on the way ahead…
Followed the creek bed and didn’t have a paddle….
….but I did have my walking stick. Which I needed as the ascent was particularly steep this week. At one point I grabbed onto a tree trunk to get my balance only to discover the bark was covered with tiny stickers. “Watch out for the bark on those” I was belatedly advised. Damn things would not wash out in the creek water either. Finally used my hanky to wipe them away. Bastards!
The view from the top. Way off in the distance is Alta Vista, my subdivision. Now, before we departed the Hare had advised that the descent was going to be steep and muddy. He suggested we find a stick to use if we hadn’t brought one. One of the Hashers actually bailed at this point. I was thinking on the way down that he might have made the right call. I was on my ass twice and in danger of toppling over several other times. One of my slips caused a mini-landslide and the two Hashers behind me came down with it.
The look of satisfaction on my face after reaching the bottom of the mountain with no damage other than the mud on my ass.
After that it was clear sailing (well, hiking) as we were on relatively flat ground for the longish remainder of the Hash…
On the home stretch along the paved banks of the Matain river.
LIfe on the riverside….heh, I’ve seen much worse.
On-Home was at Treasure Island this week. One of my favorite venues in town. Treated myself to the some orange chicken and some grilled wings. Life is good, glad I didn’t lose mine on trail!
The Hash Circle commenced and as is the custom, we were asked to rate the trail. I said it was perfect for a mountain goat. And then while the Hares sat bare assed on the ice block we honored them with with the traditional Hash song:
(sung to the Mickey Mouse Club theme)
S-H-I-T-T-Y T-R-A-I-L
Shitty trail (It sucked)
Shitty trail (really fucked)
The Hare’s have laid another shitty trail
I would rather drink a beer than hash your shitty trail,
S-H-I-T-T-Y T-R-A-I-L
Later on I was compelled to spend some time on ice for my two Hash Crashes. The guys who fell with me also joined me on the ice. One of them suggested that the Hares also take another cold seat since they had laid an impossible trail down the mountain. And finally I was given recognition for achieving double digit status (11 Hashes already!) with the Subic Bay Hash House Harries (SB H-3).
Then the circle closed with our going away song:
(there’s a bunch of pantomimes we do as we sing, but I can’t be fucked with describing them right now)
Swing low, sweet cherry ass,
Cumin’ four two carry me home…
Swing low, sweet cherry ass,
Cumin’ four two carry me home.
I looked over Jordan,
And what did I see-ee,
Cumin’ four two carry me home…
A band of An-gels,
Cumin’ after me-ee,
Cumin’ four two carry me home…
If you get there be-four I doo,
Cumin’ four two carry me home…
Tell all my friends I’m cumin’ twoo,
Cumin’ four two carry me home…
Yes, I know. I know. But it’s a Hash tradition. Don’t be a hater!
Yesterday was pretty much what passes as normal for me around here. If you discount the shitting the bed thing I mean.
I always start my day with a dose of the internet, mostly the blogs I follow and some Facebook. There’s some gems out there if you get lucky enough to find them. Like I’ve got this new pickup line to try out on the local ladies:
Although it will likely prove every bit as effective as my current repertoire…
Repertoire…isn’t that French? Coincidentally, the cover of this month’s online Hash magazine seems to feature bits of that archaic and dying language.
In the Subic kennel, we sing our songs in English thank you very much. Of course, I’m still learning the words to most of them but little by little I’m getting there.
I wish I could find me a songbook with all the lyrics for the Hash standards.
Anyway, once I’ve satisfied my internet addiction, it’s time to hit the road for the first steps of the day and of course some breakfast. I usually do Treasure Island for my morning meal, but yesterday I changed it up and ate at Mango’s.
Eggs with a view as it were.
I try to get 10,000 steps (1.5 hours) every morning. Back home to rest a bit, then give Buddy a walk through the neighborhood. He smiles the whole time!
Had my Sunday darts tournament at Alley Cats and managed a third place which was a tad disappointing. I’m not going to complain about it much, but this is not the traditional “blind draw” where teammates are randomly chosen. The tournament director instead divides folks into two groups “A” caliber players and everyone else, which in theory would give you more balanced teams. I just question how she determines who is going where. Now, I’m always in the “A” group and I belong there. But damn, she has some really solid players that in my mind should be in “A” as well teamed up with other “A” partners. Ah well, I have some thoughts on how to better rank and rate the players, but I can’t be bothered with it at this point. Just want to relax and have fun.
After darts I hoofed it on home and ate some leftover baby back ribs from the previous night’s dinner. Then took Buddy for his afternoon walk. With Buddy walked and fed, I packed a bag and headed back into town. Rented a room at the Paradise hotel using my 50% off coupon from the SOB raffle. Took a much needed shower, had a shave, dressed up nice and hit the bars.
It was in the back of mind that maybe, just maybe, I’d put the bed in that room to use. Sometimes my “no barfine” policy seems ridiculous. I mean seriously, some hot young women willing and wanting to fuck you for forty or less dollars and I just leave them up there on the stage? It strikes me as an awful selfish thing to do. After all, they really really need the money.
Alas, despite seeing some prospects that ticked all my boxes I just couldn’t pull the trigger. Bought a few ladies drinks which helps them out some at least. And didn’t feel guilty about enjoying some brews. This quote (attributed to Babe Ruth, but who knows, it’s the internet after all) pretty much sums up my thinking:
“Sometimes when I reflect on all the beer I drink, I feel ashamed. Then I look into the glass and think about the workers in the brewery and all of their hopes and dreams. If I didn’t drink this beer, they might be out of work and their dreams would be shattered. I think, “It is better to drink this beer and let their dreams come true than be selfish and worry about my liver.”
After an abbreviated bar hop (Wet Spot, Cheap Charlies) I popped into Lollipop. On Sunday night they have a live band doing country music. I pulled one of the dancers off stage to keep me company, but mostly to be my bodyguard. There were only two other customers in the joint and the hoards of thirsty waitresses were swarming around my table with the “buy me a drink” fever in their eyes. It really is off putting.
Only stayed for the first set of music. The band was okay, featuring some Eagles tunes and a Kid Rock song I like, Only God Knows Why. Caught a trike home, leaving my hotel bed untouched. Slept on the couch since I didn’t want to put clean sheets on a dirty mattress.
And that’s pretty much how things roll around here.
People don’t know about the things I say and do
They don’t understand about the shit that I’ve been through
It’s been so long since I’ve been home
I’ve been gone, I’ve been gone for way too long
Maybe I forgot all things I miss
Oh somehow I know there’s more to life than this
I said it too many times
And I still stand firm
You get what you put in
And people get what they deserve
Still I ain’t seen mine
No I ain’t seen mine
I’ve been giving just ain’t been gettin
I’ve been walking that there line
So I think I’ll keep a walking
With my head held high
I’ll keep moving on and only God knows why
I rarely post news of the scatological, but I had a particularly shitty night.
So, I’ve had a case of the LBM (liquid bowel movement) for the past few days. It’s not that big a deal, no cramps or other side effects. When I have to go, I go. It’s just liquid. Sorta like shitting pee. Until last night that is.
I wake up at 2 a.m. and my underwear are wet. WTF? Sure enough, I had shit the bed in my sleep. Well, damn. I got up, cleaned up as best I could with no running water. Removed the soiled sheets, flipped the mattress over, re-made the bed, used the toilet just to play it safe, and then managed to get back to sleep.
Woke up at 5 o’clock and guess what? I had done it again. Even worse this time if you can imagine that. I honestly don’t get it. The LBM is no better or worse than it has been. I mean, I haven’t had the need to poop all day so it’s not like I’ve got a case of raging diarrhea.
Now on the chance that you are wondering if this might be drinking related, it wasn’t. I came home early last night after drinking less beers than I normally do. In other words, I was not intoxicated. I was about as normal as I get.
I don’t recall ever having shit my pants since I was child (other than the occasional shart). And I’m sure I never shit the bed since being potty trained.
And then twice in one night. Wow. I’m trying to recall if maybe I dreamed I had gotten up to go to the toilet, but I have no recollection of that. I just don’t get it. In the category of “it can always be worse”, one night earlier and I would have shit all over Marissa. I’m not sure our relationship could handle shit like that.
Anyway, it was a crappy start to the day. I really need to get my shit together…
