She was a friend to me when I needed one
Wasn’t for her I don’t know what I’d done
She gave me back something that was missing in me
She could of turned out to be almost anyone
Almost anyone…
With the possible exception
Of who I wanted her to be

Talk about celestial bodies
And your angels on the wing
She wasn’t much good at stickin’ around…but
That girl could sing…

Ah, I hope you will indulge me as I engage in a little Sunday morning introspection.

Woke up alone which is of course sadly normal for me. Then I walked alone…

…on the beach.

And ate breakfast alone…

…probably the best French toast in town at Mango’s…

And all that alone time gave me the chance to reflect on the sorry state of my love life. I don’t always go there, but Facebook “triggered” me by sharing a memory from two years ago.

The lovely Eun Oke traveled with me to Barretto back then…

We had a fine ocean view room at the Arizona resort….

…and a really fantastic time in the bars. The bargirls loved her and she enjoyed having me buy them drinks. Good times!

Anyway, I’m not going to recount the disaster that resulted from that relationship. Suffice to say I allowed myself to love someone for the first time since having my heart and soul crushed by the wife. Eun Oke left me embittered and cynical and unwilling (or perhaps unable) to open myself up to love again.

So Loraine became my brand new plan.

I’d just hire someone to take care of me. No risk in that, right?

Regular readers know how that turned out for me. Honestly, I’m still reeling from the aftershocks. I’m living the life here alone that I expected to share with her. That’s not always easy.

Which has led me now to this particular moment in time and my tentative first steps in starting a new relationship. Marissa, what am I going to do about you?

Things are always just a little out of kilter it seems…

I think Marissa is a good woman with a good heart. So, what’s the problem? She just doesn’t meet my needs. We have little in common (she doesn’t like to walk!). She’s not open and expressive with her feelings. And she works in a bar. Other than those things she is pretty much perfect.

And of course I’m being very unfair here. I do think she cares but she doesn’t do the little things to show it. And that’s really my being needy and wanting constant reassurance that I matter. And that is just not in her nature to do. I think she is perhaps making more of an effort in that regard, but again, I can’t expect her to be something that she is not.

The working in a bar thing is a bigger issue for me than I expected it would be. My first girlfriend in Korea was a bargirl and I don’t recall being bothered by other men buying her drinks. Hey, it meant I didn’t have to. This situation feels different somehow now. Again, that’s probably more a reflection of my insecurity and vulnerability than anything she is doing. We have talked about it at length. I respect that customer bought drinks is how she pays the rent. I admire her tenacity and independence as she makes her way through life. I have no reason to think these customers mean anything other than a way to make money (just to be clear, I’m talking drinks only, there is no “take out” available at Alley Cats).

Her ex-boyfriend took her out of the bar. Paid her a 10,000 peso per month “allowance” in lieu of working. That’s only $200. I could easily do that. The problem I have with it though is that it is too much like the “buying a girlfriend” thing I tried with Loraine. I don’t want Marissa to be with me out of a sense of obligation or financial need. I want her to be with me only when and if that is where she most wants to be. If I give her money I could never be sure.

So, that’s my dilemma. And yes, the easy course of action is to just let her go and move on to the next big thing. I may wind up doing that at some point. But for now at least I find her to be, well, it sounds crass and selfish, but she’s better than nothing. I’ve had way too much of nothing and I’m not quite ready to throw in the towel and go back to that.

So, we shall see what the future brings.

The longer I thought I could find her
The shorter my vision became
Running in circles behind her
And thinking in terms of the blame
But she couldn’t have been any kinder
If she’d come back and tried to explain
She wasn’t much good at saying goodbye…but
That girl was sane

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.

What’s next?

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!

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

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.

As I briefly mentioned yesterday, it has been a crazy past few days here in the Philippines. Here’s the lowdown:

Friday night I did a “do-over” date with Malissa. She had expressed remorse and regret for allowing the memory of past relationship failures to prevent her from being open and responsive to my overtures. I in turn realized that I’m also carrying around the baggage of my many disappointments in the love realm and that contributed to my bailing out at the first sign of trouble. Will we get it right this time? Who knows. I’m going to be 63 next month though and I just want to enjoy each day the best I can. And one of the things I enjoy is having a warm body to snuggle with. That’s enough for now.

I woke up to pounding rain on Saturday morning. That’s not unusual, but this was different in that the rain was accompanied by strong gusty winds. Rendered umbrellas useless as the falling water was coming in sideways. In the afternoon my lights started flickering and I figured I was in for a power outage. And I was right about that. I had the security guys call the power company and was hopeful that the lights would be on when I came home from darts Saturday night. I was happy to see the lit houses as I entered the subdivision. But then I turned the corner and saw my place, black as the night. I kinda sorta thought the outage may have been a loose connection to my house, given how the power was intermittent before finally going out altogether. I was right as rain about that. So, it was a dark night at home, no aircon and no internet. I know now which one I can’t live without! I’m an internet junkie!

So I figured nothing could be worse than Saturday’s storm and I was glad to see the clouds breaking up when I awoke on Sunday morning. They even got my power restored, although the internet didn’t come back. Oh well, things were looking up at least. And then Josie blew into town. That bitch was a typhoon! Made Saturday seem like a drizzle. And Josie brought along lots of thunder and lightning to accompany her downpours. Soon enough my lights went out again. Damn it!

I had seen my pal Jerry at darts on Saturday. He’s a fellow walking hobbyist as well and has been living here for the past 15 years or so. I told him the rain really sucked as it was preventing me from getting my steps in (I had a paltry 8,000 for the day). He told me that he’d decided to just fuck it all and walk regardless of the weather. Made me feel like a wimp it did. So, despite Josie’s fury, I set about walking on Sunday. This is what I saw:

Right at the entrance to my subdivision I was able to ascertain why I had lost power. This was taken on Sunday morning, by Sunday night half of the house at the top of the hill was at the bottom. (as you can see in the picture I posted yesterday)

This is one of my regular waking paths, but on this day it was a river. Gave it a pass naturally….

And it wasn’t just the side streets. National Highway was having it’s own flooding issues, which got much worse as the day went on.

I was supposed to meet Marissa for breakfast but she was a no show. I gave her a call to see what was up and she sent me a photo of her apartment:

Damn. Best excuse for a broken date ever!

She also took this photo of the rescue raft passing by her place. She chose not evacuate and later regretted it. She wound up staying in the 2nd floor apartment of her neighbor.

Speaking of rescue, my domestic helper Tere was spending her day off in Olongapo City. I was surprised when she returned home in the early afternoon. Turns out she had to be evacuated from wherever it was she was with ropes! Yikes!

And even looking out at the bay gave me a sinking feeling…

Anyway, you get the idea. It was not a good day for many, many people. As for me, well, I’m king of the hill and all that. But even King’s lose their power (and internet) and I couldn’t bear facing another night at Casa Rosenda without them. So, I decided to sleep at the Pub.

The restaurant next door is run by a friendly Korean guy.

Well, I should have done my blogging before I went out for a few celebratory beers. By the time I came back to the room and settled in to give my faithful reader(s) an update, the power in Barretto went out as well. Oh the irony! Of course, the Pub Hotel does have a generator so the lights and aircon were back on in just a few minutes, but alas, no internet.

Me too, honey, me too.

So, here it is today. Power on but I can’t access my internet here (still). Although my wifi router is putting out a signal, my network is not appearing as an option. And I don’t have a password for the one that does appear. Someone is supposed to be out from CATV this afternoon to hook me up again. Savvy readers may wonder just how I’m composing this long ass post. Well, duh. I finally figured out how to turn my phone into a wifi hotspot. It’s amazing how three days of desperation will make you smart! Smarter anyway.

Meica from Alley Cats darts bar always inspires me with her t-shirt messages. I responded “are you talking about me?” She said, “no, of course not!” Sarcastically.

So now it is today and so far no rain to speak of, although rumor has it yet another storm is brewing. We shall see.

Took my Buddy out for a walk. He really gets excited at walk time now. He’s come a long way these past couple of weeks…

Saw a couple of the neighborhood kids as we walked about…

And enjoyed a “sunny” day, comparatively speaking anyway.

And I guess it could always be worse.

So, I’ll just Be Positive… (technically O+ just in case anyway in the emergency room should ask)

That just about brings you up to date I suppose. Will give you the weekly Hash update tomorrow. Rain or shine!

Fuck me.

Buddy is gone. While I was out playing darts yesterday afternoon a construction worker left the front door ajar and the dog ran away. I was incensed that my helper didn’t have the sense to put Buddy in his enclosure. I was tempted to fire her ass for incompetence, but I could tell she was upset by what she terms “an accident”.

The front gate guards say they saw him running out of the subdivision and turning into an adjacent squatters village. I know Buddy can’t find his way home (here or his former residence) so he’s got to be just wandering the streets alone and hungry. I’m going to get some flyers done up offering a reward and post them in the surrounding area. If I can enlist the support of the street urchins perhaps he will be found. I’m just sick to my stomach over this.

On the flip side of the coin, I felt compelled to keep my date with Marissa despite my loss. I drank extra to dull the pain. She seemed to enjoy herself and the dance contest. She was also quite cuddly which I took as a good sign that she has some affection for me at least.

When the SOB was over we moved to another bar for an event known as the “Aftermath”. This features a series of raffle drawings (you get a ticket for each drink purchase) and culminates in a “find the Joker” progressive jackpot. Each week a lucky raffle participant gets to turn over a card. If the Joker is picked, he wins the pot, if not, money is added for the following week’s drawing. Last night the pot was 31,000 pesos ($620) and there were 8 cards remaining. Well, I had been disappointed all night that not one of my numerous raffle tickets had been drawn. And no, I wasn’t drawn for the “find the Joker” either. But Marissa was!

She was in the CR (as restrooms are called here) when her ticket was drawn so I picked the card. And yes, I picked that fucking Joker! Pandemonium broke out in the bar, and not in a particularly good way. Immediately there were calls “to ring the bell”, which provides all the working girls a lady drink for 2800 pesos. It’s a suckers bet that I never do, except last night I was drunk and overwhelmed so I relented. But the calls for sharing the wealth didn’t stop there. The girl who had pulled Marissa’s number thought she was worthy of a tip, and the waitress was also looking expectantly for a piece of the windfall. I had a huge roll of cash in pocket and was feeling uncomfortable with all the attention. When the damn doormen asked me to buy them dinner, I told Marissa I was leaving. She suggested we go to Alley Cats (the dart bar where she works and I play) for a final drink. And so we did.

It turns out they only pay half the jackpot in cash, and the rest in vouchers redeemable at the bars hosting the SOB/Aftermath events.

Good for a year, but I reckon I can use it up in half that time. Although I really don’t like drinking in the girly bars so much.

Anyway, I gave Marissa the cash. She didn’t want to take it, saying I had paid her entry into the event. I responded “it’s your name on the winning ticket” and she eventually relented. That’s a big chunk of change for her and really nothing to me. How big for her? She had told me earlier in the evening that she had a good day at work the night before scoring eight lady drinks. I asked how much she made per drink and she said 60 pesos (the customer pays 150). So, a good night for her at work is making just under ten dollars. Wow. Her date with me wound up paying off big time.

With the money burning a hole in her pocket she proceeded to buy all her coworkers drinks. Hey, her money to spend any way she chooses, right? I was beyond drunk at this point and feeling depressed over my dog, so I bailed despite Marissa’s entreaty to stay for “one more”. I guess I might have had it mind that she’d come home with me last night. She might have if I had asked her to, but I was just not in the mood. Another time perhaps.

I miss my Buddy.

UPDATE: BOLO

His name was “Antonio” or “Tony”. But since the caretaker downstairs is named Tony I don’t want him coming every time I call the dog.

Henceforth, my new friend will be called Buddy. Yeah, not so original but it works for me.

This is the first time I’ve done a dog “rescue”. I guess some shyness is to be expected when an animal is torn away from the only environment he’s ever known and thrust into totally unfamiliar circumstances. But I think it goes beyond that with this one. I suspect he has been both abused and neglected. It’s going to take some time to win his trust I think.

He does have a healthy appetite at least. I’m going to fatten him up in no time…

I also bought him a cozy house for those occasions when I need to yard him…

“Where the fuck am I?”

“Nothing smells familiar”

“How in the hell do I get out of here?”

I had hoped to get a photo of Buddy and me together, but he ain’t having none of that cozying up shit. At least not yet. I’m not going to rush him. He’ll grow more comfortable in time I’m sure.

Anyway, welcome home my friend!

Has it stopped raining yet? Nein!

Interesting development regarding my house situation. Yesterday I got a call from the landlord Pablo’s mother. She said she was at the house and wanted to meet with me. So, I took a trike over to find out what was on her mind.

We started out with some interesting small talk. She’s obviously very intelligent and apparently extremely well-connected. She mentioned being part of the “Manila 400” for example. She also said her daughter is a member of the Philippines House of Representatives. Mrs. Ocampo told me she was raised in China (and speaks Chinese), formerly had a business in the USA before returning to the PI, and she is in fact the owner and developer of Alta Vista. Her name is own my lease agreement, not Pablo’s, so I know this to be true.

Anyway, if was a fascinating conversation. And then she was ready to get down to business. She asked what was the agreement I had reached with Pablo. I explained that it was what is in the lease agreement, with the exception that I would initially be paying the rent 6 months in advance rather than annually. She nodded and then dropped the bombshell. She wanted to keep the house I was planning to move into and asked if I would consider taking the house next door instead. I was pretty much gobsmacked and couldn’t quite grasp the reason for the switch, something about feng shui and her plans to have her daughter run for national office next year. I responded that I had already made arrangements and purchases for this house. She said I know we have an agreement, but would you at least look at the other house. So I did.

It’s a nice enough house, similar in size but with a different type floor plan, sort of on three levels. The view is equally as good as the first house, and this one is fully furnished. Still, there is the pain in the ass factor to consider. I’d already bought the aircon units for the first house and also have two beds, a stove and refrigerator due to be delivered tomorrow. Mrs. Ocampo assured me she would make all the arrangements for a smooth transition and I could tell she really, really wanted me to make the switch.

Damn. Well, I decided she’d make a better friend than an enemy (and I actually did like her quite a bit, much easier to communicate with than Pablo). So I somewhat reluctantly agreed to take the second house. She was very happy with that decision and told me the best part of this deal is she now considers me “family” and I could let her know if there is anything I ever need. So I guess that’s a good thing. Jesus, I hope so!

I’ll try and get up there for some photos of the new place today. If this fucking rain ever stops.

Well, obviously that’s a game I’m NOT playing. Yet. But since my arrival I’ve been an active observer. Here are my initial impressions.

One thing that really stands out from the outset is that almost all the expats are coupled up. Now, I’m sure a certain percentage of these women are one night rentals, but at least where I hang out (mostly the regular type bars and the weekly Hash) I see normal boyfriend/girlfriend relationships. Well, normal if you discount the age disparity in the couples.

It’s still astounding to see these fat old fuckers with sweet young Filipinas. Makes me wonder what’s wrong with me? Yeah, I know. I’m plenty old and not the most gwapo (handsome) man around. But until moving here I never understood why a guy would want a partner thirty or forty years his junior. Other than what I presume is hot sex, but that’s for sale all over town anyway. Here’s the thing, it’s actually the women who are pursuing these relationships with older guys. It’s a common saying from Filipinas that “age is just a number”. And to them they see older guys as more emotionally stable, financially secure, and less likely to cheat on them. So there’s that.

I have one friend who is 66 with a 21 year old girlfriend who is pretty enough to be a model. As he tells it, she was a poor girl from the province and her life with him is like being on a permanent vacation…buys her whatever she needs, eat out everyday, living in a long term hotel apartment. It’s heaven for her. From what I’ve seen of them together she appears genuinely happy and devoted to him.

I have another friend of similar age who has a 23 year old “mistress” (that’s the term they both use, seeing as how he is married). He’s basically a “sugar daddy”, pays her college tuition, pays the rent, gives her an allowance, etc. and in return she takes care of his physical needs and provides companionship. Seems like a win-win to me.

Other guys I’ve met are doing the traditional family thing–having babies and all–notwithstanding the huge age difference. I can’t be a father again thankfully, nor would I want to be at this late stage of my life, but again, from all outward appearances these couples are perfectly happy in their chosen situation.

So. What about me? Obviously, I’m hoping to get in the game. I really crave a relationship. But what kind? I guess being boots on the ground now, I’m more accepting of the age difference thing. It’s the norm here so my previous standard of “would I look ridiculous with her” is out the window. Still don’t want to compromise on finding someone with a brain who can be a good and trusted companion. So far the women I’ve met here with those qualities haven’t been receptive to my tentative overtures (heh, that having a brain thing is a two edged sword!). The other night the waitresses at Treasure Island were teasing me, suggesting that Ruru (one of the younger workers there) introduce me to her mother. She laughed and said she’d have to call me “sir Daddy instead of sir John”. It was kind of cute, I admit.

I’m not exactly desperate (yet). I’ve not partaken in any of the take-out bargirl options for example. Oh, I buy a few ladydrinks and hand out some candy, but paying for sex just goes against the grain for me. I was only tempted once but nature intervened (the gal said she had her “mens”). Not sure if that was true or just a polite rejection, but I was glad for it the next morning.

In the meantime, I’ve been half-heartedly visiting the Filipina Cupid dating website. It’s been mildly interesting. Had a nice chat with a 35 year old named Marymay. She lives in Subic, the next town over. She likes the outdoors and exercise so we had that much in common at least. I asked her if she’d like to get together for lunch or dinner and she responded “We can spend time together John. Ill think about it..😉” That’s the last I heard from her.

Then there was Anne, 30 years old from Manila, who sent me this: “Hi John I have taken the time and read your profile. I have a question for. Have you given up or do you want me to chase you around the block for you to stop at take another look at me. Keep in mind I don’t run as fast as I use too. I promise i will make a strong effort in catching you. So what would you like for me to do. Begin the chase or walk away….I look forward to your answer.”

Finally, a gal who wants to chase me! I responded:“Well, I don’t know if your message is original or not, but I do admit I like it! 🙂 So, to answer your question–by all means, begin the chase! I’m probably not all that hard to catch if you are honest and sincere. Anyway, you’ve captured my interest. Let’s see what happens next.” We exchanged a few more messages back and forth that night, but I haven’t heard from her since either. I guess she’s not that good at chasing after all.

My most interesting exchange was with Mary who lives in a far off province, but had a profile that seemed to suggest she was smarter than the average bear. So I initiated contact with this: “How goes the search? After reading your profile I thought “she’s someone I’d like to get to know better”. Anyway, I’m living in Olongapo now.” I was astounded by her response:

“I remember your photo,,,your separated I prefer divorce men your caucasian Can’t you get divorce,unless you marry a filipina here in my country,,,,,been to Olongapo before why you choose to live in a sordid area??? So many girly bars there,,,I want an honest answer I assumed you’ve F— bargirls there which moat foriegner does,,,you can’t avoid it especially to a lonely man and your no saint,,,I’m sorry for being upfront and don’t get me wrong I am asking this questions cos I know exactly those places and foriegners that lives there and thier lifestyle…. “

Wow. Judge much, Mary? Here’s how I responded:

“Thank you for your bluntness and honesty. It is refreshing to see here on Filipino Cupid. Not all of Olongapo is sordid. You choose to see what you want to see. The subdivision I’ll be living in is very upscale with amazing views of the bay and mountains. Yes, there are girly bars in town for those who are interested in prostitutes. There are also regular bars where expats hang out and socialize. I play in two dart leagues and with tournaments, that fills 5 nights a week for me. I’m also a member of a running/hiking club (the Hash House Harriers) and we have a weekly event that I enjoy very much.

But to answer your question directly, I’ve been here almost one month now. Yes, I am a very lonely. No, I have not fucked any bargirls. It is just not my thing. It is true that I am not a saint, but I try not to judge others for the choices they make. I think you are wrong to assume that all foreigners living here are the same or that they share the same lifestyle. I live life on my terms and I have nothing to be ashamed about.

Again, I appreciate you sharing your viewpoints so openly. I wish you well in your search and hope you find the kind of man you will be happy sharing your life w with. Good luck to you!”

And so it goes. At this point I’m not sure how I’ll proceed. The being a sugar daddy thing is a little tempting, but I suspect it would not end well. I’m actually leaning towards just hiring someone to take care of me and the house and leave it at that for now. And no, I won’t be screwing the help. Still licking the wounds my last employee inflicted. I actually may interview a gal I’ve been chatting with on Facebook for quite sometime. She’s a certified caregiver and really wants a job. She actually gets on my nerves quite a bit, so she ought to be perfect. No temptation to make her my girlfriend!

Stay tuned dear readers. The adventure is only beginning!

Yesterday’s Hash was a fun time. In fact, it had me in stitches. Let’s go the photos:

Out of the truck at the trail head and ready to rumble, well, ramble anyway…

Climbing these steps proved to be rather, um, tire-ing…

It’s On-On the trail…

How the other half lives. My blessings are counted for this beautiful life I’m living.

As pretty as this path may be, it was leading me to peril… (that’s what we call foreshadowing)

A view from the top…

And the view at the bottom…

“Tractor? I don’t need no stinking tractor!” Old school farming via carabao…

Anyway, along the path I got tangled up in some rusty old razor wire. Why it was there on the ground I have no clue, and just how it wound up wrapped around my calf I can’t say. I do know that it ripped me a good one, that’s for sure.

Assessing the damage when we arrived “On-Home” at Treasure Island…

Speaking of Treasure Island, it’s the resort I stayed in when I first arrived. It’s also very convenient to my current apartment. The staff is friendly (and cute) so it is no surprise I’m a regular there. That paid off because without even asking, one of the waitresses offered me some first aid. Mark, the security guy, came over and thoroughly cleaned the wound with soap and water, then disinfected with hydrogen peroxide.

Then he did a nice job wrapping it all up neat and tidy. I offered to buy him dinner for his efforts but he declined. Later on though I slipped him a 500 peso note (around ten bucks) which he seemed to appreciate.

Got up this morning and did my regular beach walk then popped into Treasure Island (of course) for some breakfast. Afterwards I made my way over to the local hospital.

Our Lady of Lourdes International Medical Center, right here in Barrio Barretto. I’ve asked several folks for the assessment of the care here and they have all said exactly the same thing “it’s where people go to die.” Well, I just wanted someone to take a look at my wound, so I ventured into the emergency room.

And a friendly female doctor and her cute nurse assistant had me all stitched up in no time. They also gave me a tetanus booster shot. Total cost–4,650 pesos. That’s about $95. if you are keeping score.

Also got some prescriptions meds (antibiotics and something else I’m not sure of what it does, anti-inflammatory maybe).

On the walk back I home I popped into the money exchange shop to pick up my Remitly money transfer ($2000.). “Sorry sir, no funds available now. Try back after lunch.”

Then it was over to Western Union to pick up another wire transfer, also for two grand. “Sorry sir, no dollars available. I can pay you in pesos”. Fine. It’s going to be a problem apparently wiring large sums of money over here. I’ve got enough together to pay the advance rent/deposit on my house, but I’m not sure how I’m going to pull together the $10,000 I need to deposit to secure my retirement visa. Ah well, I’ll figure it out.

Speaking of the house, the landlord stood me up yesterday. Was supposed to meet today before lunch. Now I hear he is “on the way” with an ETA of around 2:00. Which precludes my planned playing in a dart tourney this afternoon. And it still does not appear ANY of the promised repairs have been completed. What a pain in the ass this has been.

(taking a deep breath, relaxing, and accepting the Filipino way).

Ah yes, that’s better.

Take the time to close your
Eyes and look around
Cause anyone who helped you out
Can let you down
And look out, look out, look out
The voice is now the choir
Can you feel it getting
Down to the wire?

…there’s no place like home.

Out of the hotel and into my first ever apartment here in the Philippines. I guess that kinda makes me an official resident, right? Anyway, I consider this to be temporary quarters until I can find something I really want to call home. I’ve grown accustomed to living in a “palace” with too much space to now being cramped into a one bedroom unit. It’s bigger than similar apartments I looked at though. The place verifies my thinking that I brought too much shit with me. There is certainly not enough closet/shelf/drawer space to accommodate my clothing.

Anyway, here’s some pictures of the place:

My apartment complex. I believe the landlord told me there are two upstairs and three downstairs apartments. The upstairs units have 2 bedrooms and one will be available later this month. I’ll check it out and see if it is worth repacking all my stuff to gain some extra space.

The entrance to my place. That would be what is known as a dirty kitchen area for outdoor cooking. I may decide to set up a grill out there.

The “clean” kitchen. Give me time, I just moved in. I’ll dirty that fucker up!

A small refrigerator and what will serve as a pantry I suppose. There is zero cabinets in this kitchen as you might have noticed.

The dining area which has been re-purposed as my office. Got to give the landlord props, when I asked about wifi she said the router is upstairs but she would install one on the ground level as well. The network is “Eriksson 5G” but I doubt it is really that fast…still no complaints so far!

The living room…

The living room with my personal touches added….

The bathroom…someone asked why you need a water heater when it is always hot as hell outside. So? I like a hot shower anyway. Sue me!

The one and only bedroom.

The one and only bedroom has the one and only air con unit in the apartment. It keeps the room chilled enough, but it is insufficient to cool the rest of the place. Ah well, I’m paying for the electricity so I guess I’ll just consider myself frugal.

So, all that for a mere $440. per month. If I take the two bedroom later the rent will be $500. That’s pretty high I think, but living in the Baloy Beach area tends to cost a little more. Plus I’m sure I’m paying the “foreigner tax”.

Yesterday I played in a sweet little darts tourney here. I’m still sucking but I had moments of brilliance, so there’s hope.

Finished second and was happy with that. Those gals were some amazing darters. I was very impressed with their level of play. I need to step up my game if I’m going to be competitive here!

Alright, time for my morning beach walk. I might just get used to living like this.