Three Crosses

Rest in Peace, JR.

Heard some sad news this morning. One of our town’s expat characters, JR Welch, committed suicide. I wasn’t close to JR, but just about everyone knew him. If he was nearby, you knew it–he was that loud and boisterous. A proud Army vet who knew how to have a good time in the bars. He was married to another acquaintance of mine, and they recently had a baby boy. Judging from the Facebook posts I’d seen, they were living a good and happy life, making it all the more shocking. You just never know what’s really going on. And perhaps there is more to the story; I saw this comment posted on FB today:

 I talked to a friend who is one of the lead investigators. They are saying suicide, and I told my friend B.S. as JR is a new Dad. In my opinion, foul play. I saw the pics, and JR’s throat was slashed. Now they are waiting on the coroner’s autopsy report.

Again, I wasn’t close to the man, but he certainly didn’t strike me as someone who would quit at anything, especially life. I’ve heard of murders being called suicide in the past–saves the police all that investigative work. And the lives of foreigners aren’t exactly valued here. Let’s hope the truth comes out, whatever it might be.

I finished second in the dart tourney last night. I threw well, but Billy threw better. I enjoyed the games, if not the outcome.

Kevin Kim posted about some controversy he created in the comments section of a blog we both read. I don’t bother much these days arguing with internet strangers; there’s not much point when you know minds won’t be changed. But I did get sucked into some drama when I answered the question, “Why do some clubs in Korea not allow foreigners inside?” this way:

Well, I lived in Korea for 12 years before retiring and moving to the Philippines. I do recall the clubs with the “Koreans only” signs out front. I didn’t really care because I don’t want to go where I’m not wanted.

I can only speculate on the reasons why foreigners weren’t welcome. But after moving to the PI, I was amused to learn that the Filipina bargirls have a universal nickname for Korean men: “triple three.” Of course, I had to ask what that meant. They laughed and said, “three inches, three minutes, three thousand pesos.”

Maybe Korean guys don’t like to compete with a full-sized man?

Yeah, I was trying to be funny. Although that really is what bargirls here call Korean men. Naturally, I awoke a couple of humorless scolds. Brina Domingez had this to say:

To say that Korean men don’t like to compete with full-size men is hilarious, especially coming from a white guy! White men are not known for being big by any means, even against Asian men. Why not take your white superiority mindset to America or Africa, and I betcha there’ll be a nickname for you. That probably explains why you’re In Asia. Your white superiority got you thinking you’re a God in Asia when back home you ain’t 💩. For the Filipina who made that comment about the 3 threes can easily apply that nickname to her fellow men bc the avg Filipino men are packing 4.2 in. ERECT. GTFOH. Lol.

Well, damn. I’m a white supremacist now. Who knew? I responded to her this way:

I have something else to be thankful for today: I am not you and I don’t know anyone as ignorant as you. I humorously told a story, and that makes me a white supremacist? Jesus, people like you, are why I have no desire to live in the USA.

I let Brina have the last word on Quora because I honestly don’t care enough to argue with her:

Humorous? No, you took a jab at Korean men then you finished your original comment with the “full size” crap which many can refute . Also, you don’t know me at all to make any kind of judgment especially like being ignorant. YOUR comment was ignorant, arrogant and you generalized Korean men and supported that generalization with a lame comment from of all ppl a Filipina. We all know the relation between the two aren’t always great so an opinion of one must be taken with a grain of salt. Thank goodness you aren’t here but sad you are there feeding the Filipino population with your white superiority views about us in America.

Ah, well. It’s all my skin color’s fault, I’m not responsible for anything I say or do. Someone named Jace Nation also took offense:

Weird the only dudes I know who go to the Philippine for sex tourism are middle age white American. Quite common to hear about child abuse there from American. Maybe grown women didn’t really want them back home.

Yeah, right. This is how I responded to Ms. Jace:

It’s weird that you think that way, and it also proves you don’t know what the hell you are talking about. To the extent men do come here to escape women who think as you do, can they really be blamed?

The world has gone mad.

That was a club in Pyeongtaek. I honestly don’t know the real reasons, maybe because of language barriers and cultural differences. I don’t care why and I never wanted to go. They can keep me out, and I can make jokes about penis size. That’s how it should be anyway.

You know, despite the impression I might create here with some of my posts, I am not in the Philippines for the sex. I had really hoped to find a loving Filipina to share my golden years. That hasn’t worked out yet. I’ve talked about the “friends with benefits” program I tried for a while, but that too seemed wrong somehow. Now, I just go about my days doing the things I enjoy and trying not to obsess about the things I miss and want and don’t have. I’ve accepted the reality of my solitary life. But that being said, I still get regular entreaties from ladies who want to spend time with me and my wallet. I mostly just say no nowadays, but that’s not always easy. Especially when they attach photos to their pleas:

It makes it hard. To say no, I mean.

She actually sent several more photos; some are even more revealing. She’s a cutie, that’s for sure. I’m a man who has not been known for his ability to resist feminine charms. Maybe just once more. Does that make me a bag guy? Or worse yet, a white supremacist?

By the way, the expats in my little town come from all over the world. Like their skin color, their motivations for being here vary. We all don’t fit in the same box (no pun intended).

But enough of this nonsense; let’s talk about those Three Crosses. It’s a local monument high in the hills above the Santa Rita barangay in Olongapo. Our Friday group climbed up there yesterday for a look-see. It was my first time out that way, and seeing all the new views was almost a religious experience. The steps to the top were crucifyingly difficult, but in the end, we nailed it. Jesus, puns this bad are almost criminal. Okay, I’ll stop and tell the story with the photos we took.

Our trail. Up a shitload of stairs to the crosses. Then a nice hike along the ridge before the steep climb back down. Somehow we lost where we had parked the Hashmobile and had to backtrack a kilometer or so to find it. All part of the adventure!
Loading up.
On the road.
Offloading in Santa Rita.
A local told us this was a good way to get there and we believed him.
Let the climbing commence. It was primarily steps all the way up, although in a couple of places, it was more trail-like.
The neighborhood we climbed through.
Still fighting the stairs, but we’ve achieved some elevation.
About halfway up, we encountered this old woman living what appears to be a solitary life.
Nice views from her place, though.
A brief break in the stairs. The uneven steps are hard for me. I much prefer a pathway to a stairway.
A brief respite.
And then the stairs resumed.
On and on and up and up.
A look back down from whence we came.
And still, we climb.
And a lookup to where we are going. The fast members of the group have already achieved our goal.
We have arrived!
The Three Crosses sans Jesus and company.
The view from here.
Do Na on the rocks.
Still carry that beer belly everywhere I go.
Taking pride in the moment.
Scott says it was the first and last time he’ll do this climb. I hope I’m going as strong as he is at 72.
A final group shot, then it is time to find a different way down.
Heading out through the woods.
This portion was definitely the most pleasant of the day.
I’d hate the commute to and from home.
Linda harvested a mango for some nourishment on trail.
Another view of Olongapo.
Looking for the trail back down.
Watch out for tarantulas!
Open space at the top of the ridge.
Hup, two, three, four!
What do people eat up here?
Oh, never mind.
Time to get down from here.
Slowly but surely, Mr. Scott.
Still muddy and slick from last night’s rain.
Hillside living.
Kids up here like cookies too.
Finally, back on flat ground. Now, where’s that truck?

We eventually found it. A challenging but very nice and beautiful hike. I’m glad I had the experience.

And that’s it for this post.

6 thoughts on “Three Crosses

  1. Whoever put those crosses up there (probably Protestant if they’re crosses and not crucifixes, i.e. there’s no corpus of Jesus on the cross—the corpus makes it a crucifix, emphasizing Jesus’ suffering… the empty cross used by Protestants, meanwhile, emphasizes the resurrection) was leaning pretty heavily into the biblical imagery: Calvary/Golgotha, Jesus crucified with two thieves on either side of him, etc.

    As for controversy… well, sometimes, all you need to do is make some offhand joke or remark, and there’s always some temperamental cunt waiting to be outraged. Usually a leftie, but as I recently discovered, it’s sometimes a rightie.

  2. Interesting. Hadn’t thought about the Catholic/Protestant divergence when it comes to the symbolism of crosses. Good stuff.

    What got me was I wasn’t being political at all, and my dig at Koreans was done tongue in cheek. Now, if a Korean had taken offense, I’d have been more conciliatory. But from two American Karens? Fuck off!

  3. Looks like a very cool hike. As you sometimes do, I was expecting you to link to a song at the end – in this case, the Randy Travis song – Three Wooden Crosses. LOL

  4. Then again, with the PI being so heavily Catholic, it could be that the three crosses were put up by Catholics. There are instances where Catholics do use crosses and not crucifixes, although these instances are infrequent (the Pope and other bishops might wear a “pectoral cross” on their chests on certain occasions, for example).

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