A TRIBUTE TO AMBASSADOR (Retired) CHARLES A JAMES.

I choose this color to reprint the story of a courageous and gentle man. (I'm sorry, I had to pale the bright red. It was too hard on the eyes for reading.)

If you get nothing from his stories, go immediately to your doctor, your heart has stopped beating.

I researched and "stole this" great writing from the owner of a group that posted "Contents within this site are property of owner and cannot be used without permission from owner Jerry Olson"....... OH REALLY? I LOVE A CHALLENGE. I think this great writing by a great man is to be shared by all.

God Bless YOU, owner of Philippines, Living Island Paradise

A Senior Comes to Paradise
Part I

Every Paradise has snakes and bad fruit “so what!"

I post this because my short time in RP touches on many of threads that have
been related in LinP3. But this is my experience and is not necessarily
representative or presented as such.

I am a senior as defined by my chronological age of 84. I was struck by a
thread sometime ago about transporting elderly to RP. There were no comments
from the so called elderly only about. I recognize the transposition of age
groups when we old farts fall into the senior category. Children become the
authoritative, managers of the parents. I decided as a last gasp of independence
to make a life changing decision by myself and for myself!!

At the time I was living in a Retirement Community with about 200 residents.
I paid $2300 per month for a one bedroom apt., three meals daily, limited
transport and entertainment. While there, I indulged my digital photography
hobby and bought a good SLR (Single Lens Reflex) camera. I took thousands of
pictures of the old folks during my two and half years, especially when there
were family visits. Thus my announcement to leave was very unpopular. I must
confess that my decision to move to RP was met with shocked disbelief! So much
for senior enthusiasm for a RP move. But none had the advantage of my
research.

I had discovered the brilliantly comprehensive http://livinginthephilippines.
I then corresponded with its' author, Don H, Bob S, and several others who
were very helpful I am very thankful to them. All encouraged me to make a
visit. I joined this LinP3 digest and read and saved, then I decided I had
enough information to make a final decision. I am a retiree of United States'
federal service, a fortiori, living on a fixed income. I decided to outsource
my quality of life. I would move to the Philippines!!! Outsourcing to maximize
benefits is not uncommon in our industrial democracy; therefore I reject out of
hand those who are critical of expats who have come here because their
dollars gain value. Haven't most of us? That was not the only reason. I had
dreams of beach front living and opportunities to take pictures of idyllic
scenes of mountains kissing the sea and shapely bikini clad golden bodies.

I have four grown children with successful careers. They are very protective
of me, especially from myself. On June 5th, 2004, the day before my
birthday, I told my very responsible oldest son, an executive with NASA, my
decision.
I did not ask his permission or opinion, His initial reaction: "Dad, how long
will it take me to talk some sense into you?" In other words: "Are you out
of your cotton-pickin' mind!!!"

Bear in mind that on Nov. 7th without his knowledge but with the support of
my commercial airlines pilot, a former marine fighter pilot, second son I did a
sky dive. I was prepared for my son's reaction. I handed him a folder of
excerpts from the digest and a link to the website. That was the last time he
raised an objection.

A week later, he told me of a work colleague married to a Filipina who
suggested that I move to Iloilo where her family is. I agreed.

My son then became project manager of my move, which I never would have
accomplished, without his hours of sorting, distributing, trashing, storing and
arranging of affairs. I am a packrat. My second son loves to entertain with
stories about my resisting discards by insisting on the historical value of a
certain paper clip.

Then number one son bought business class tickets on PAL for him and me. We
are big men. My second son helped out when not flying. My only contribution
was the decision.

He arranged a limousine to collect me and my many bags to go to San Francisco
airport. When we checked in we knew we had excess baggage. The first
surprise PAL waived the excess baggage fee!! The flight was uneventful
until we left Honolulu for Manila.

The second surprise: three hours out, the pilot announced we would have to
return to Honolulu because of a medical emergency. We were concerned because a
nursing mother was the emergency and our Filipina wife of my son's colleague
had decided to take the same flight with us. She is a nursing mother but to
our relief, she was not the emergency.

The third surprise: The flight took 22 hours! I asked one of the charming
flight attendants about crew change. There was none and would not be, thus I
learned first hand the effects of brain drain in the Philippines. Of course, I
had considerable concern about the alert health of the pilots. They should
not be subjected to this especially when I am on board! lol

Fourth surprise: At the airport in Manila, we stayed close to our Filipina.
Son had ordered wheel chair for me, although at that time I did not think I
needed one. Actually, I was grateful. I was wheeled furiously to the domestic
terminal and when I expressed concern about customs was told everything was
taken care of. However, when we arrived in Iloilo, there were no bags! AHA!!
Customs!! The next morning bags arrived and there was NO evidence of custom
examination!!!

Fifth surprise: This was more dumb oversight than surprise. I was taking
considerable medication bout nine pills daily. During the trip I had neglected to take any medicine for about 30 hours. Consequently, the second day in country I was hospitalized.

Sixth surprise: My new adoptive family had met us at the airport. The
second day we went on an unsuccessful house hunt - still no medicine. The
next day the "family" produced a doctor for me and he immediately ordered me into the hospital. Two members of the family moved into my private room and stayed 24/7. Nurses brought doctor's orders to them and they, my new
caregiver/companions procured cash from my son and bought the medicines or paid for the tests.

Throughout the night I could not move without someone at my bedside. I played a game of sneaking out of bed without awakening them to go to the bathroom
("CR" for the learned here). I succeeded in fooling them only one time, the last day. About the hospital, if fully supported the popular impression of hospital bad food with the added twist. It was always cold. I could not eat it.

On the other hand, the nursing staff was always warm and pleasant. In no way
did they support the experience reported, of sullen inefficiency. In spite of that, I am not anxious to repeat the experience.

When the doctor finally discharged me, I had a party for the family. The family arranged it and I was overwhelmed with extent of this family. A disc jockey, music and food - endless food for a joyous horde! This was impressive for me because I grew up in foster homes without a mother and father. It seems as though I inherited a family. Party cost $300.00. So ended my first week in Paradise.

There is more, much more to the story, which I will save for later postings.

Chuck in Iloilo
 

A Senior Comes to Paradise - Part II
By Chuck

In Part I, I spoke of my first week in Paradise which was very eventful with
an almost week long hospitalization, and a party with my new "family".
All of that was especially important for my son to experience before he left
at the end of the week.

Another important event occurred by miraculous coincidence. A conversation
by members of my "family" while riding in a jeepney (Google jeepney) was
overheard by a staff member of my current landlady. They went to the house,
collected my son and me. The next day I signed a 6-month's lease (yes I
wondered about that 6 month's bit but I kept quiet) and moved in the day my son had to leave.

In addition, son who was very sensitive about providing adequate compensation
for services for me asked Bee (name has been changed) what salary, Cee, her
sister who had returned from employment in Hong Kong, had received in Hong
Kong. Bee said 400. My son and I were ignorant of pay scales in RP so by
California standards, this seemed quite reasonable. So much for my research.
He immediately agreed assuming that Cee had received $400 USD. Of course with the then exchange rate this translated into 20,000 p per month far in excess of
professional nurses in hospitals (6,000). Cee immediately hired Auntie to be
full time live in maid. She paid her 1500 p for cleaning, laundry, some cooking
and whatever else Cee told her to do. Cee was live in also. Cee also hired
her brother Bo to be an on-call helper. He was available to provide brawn if
needed when I had to go for medical appointments. Cee paid him 5000 p Per
month.

Thus I learned first hand the sometimes irrationally fiece family loyalty.
It should be noted that as of the day we went to the airport in SF, I was mobile and walking unassisted. I had long standing ailments so I might be described as walking wounded. Over my objection, son insisted that I pack a walker.
I did. How do these kids get to be so damn smart!?!?

From the day I arrived, my health has mysteriously worsened. Frankly, I began to suspect that my multiple medicines, 21 daily at one point, were dangerous
to my health. Then I wondered if Cee was trying to be helpful with her knowledge of Chinese alternative medicine which she had picked up in Hong Kong.

Chalk it up to my paranoia. Sometimes I think I am getting old. The result, in
seven months here, I was hospitalized six times for an average stay of a week. Even with pretty nurses, that does get old!!!

Because, it was necessary to have cash for medicines and tests and because I
could not get out of bed, I had to give my debit cards to Cee with pin numbers
to get cash after my son left. There are three accounts. It occurred to me that imposing this ultimate trust on Cee was grossly unfair to both of us. I had no choice. This was the only way to get the cash for this pay-as-you-go system. All new to me. Now would you lock your most trustworthy child in a chocolate factory? My caregiver had to procure the chocolate. I hoped she didn't eat too much.

Cee is intelligent with moderate English capability and a lot of common sense. She handled the medicines, buying and administering as well as medical appointments. More than one time I objected to the doctor and she discussing my case in my presence using Ilongo, which I do not understand. They both were capable in English. I should have remembered from my experience, that speaking in your native tongue is functioning in your comfort zone. Cee was a natural administrator.

She managed more than the medical chores. She worked the stew out of Auntie.
But my paranoia set in again. I worried about a non-professional having this much responsibility for my health. Then serendipity!!! The house that I rented is a brand new two story, two apartment house in the family compound of my landlady. She has turned out to be a rare gem because she has helped with her extensive contacts. She knows or is related to everybody.

Her 22-year-old son is a recent college graduate who visited me, this old foreign oddity, with his girlfriend. Girlfriend happens to be a graduate nurse. I asked her to work for me. I felt that I could not pay her less than Cee so I offered 20,000 a month, which she gleefully accepted. When I told Cee, the proverbial ^&*hit the fan! Why did you want to do that!!!! Then Cee asked how much I would pay Cher (name changed) when I told her 20,000, Cee was livid!!! How could I pay her so much?? Reminding her that Cher is a professional and getting the same salary as Cee, made absolutely no impression. Cee quit on the spot taking Auntie and Bo with her!!! I had not planned to fire her even though I suspected that she had succumbed to the "child in the chocolate factory" syndrome.

Her quitting, what in RP is a good job, mystified me and fueled my paranoia. After all, she bought medicines daily, she had free access to my debit cards and pin numbers, and she had exceptionally strong family ties especially with her mother who had high blood pressure. There was other inconclusive circumstantial evidence but even still I was prepared to keep her on. She provided the organization, which I have sadly lacked throughout my life, age notwithstanding. If I had not been possessed of absent-mindedness all my life, I would have suspected dementia.

My X wife and children never let me forget the time that my X sent me to the store for light bulbs and I came home with a lawnmower. But no light bulbs!
MY X once said: "You have always been eccentric" At first I thought she was paying me an uncharacteristic compliment, but I now wonder.
There are many other stories about my fabled missteps but I will spare you.
Since early childhood I have been a dreamer. I was placed in foster homes when I was 4 years old, sponsored by a Catholic relief agency in the city of Philadelphia. I started school in St Peter Clavier's in the poor section.

It was there I had my first epiphany. The Parish Priest came to my second grade class to award a prize to the best reader in the class. When he called my name, I was stunned. I won a book, which I read again and again. It literally fell apart but from that time on I was happily hooked.

I know I have rambled but I think the secret of my mental lapses lies in that one early mind blowing event. At 10 years, my mother's only surviving childless sister took me. She was a bible toting Baptist with no use for Catholics never the less she enrolled me in a Catholic elementary school, St Joachim. She did not trust public schools. In addition, she took me to the public library to get a library card. I never saw that woman read any book but the bible. She and her husband were under-educated highly intelligent people.

They did worry that I lived in the dream world of the books that I discovered, like "Twenty Thousand Leagues Under the Sea" "The Three Musketeers", Les Miserables, and many others.

My aunt literally forced me to go out and play. I never recovered from the dream state. I needed a Cee. After all, I had already lost two overly organized and totally frustrated wives. My life has been done my way but I have learned that for reasons I don't understand, the majority of people in the world do not do it my way. LoL. That is a part of the context, which leads me here.

Cher moved in and Derek, her bf and landlady's son became my caregiver under Cher's loving tutelage. Derek has a business degree. They do a first rate job although I accuse Cher of being my momma. I obey her. She is highly intelligent; maybe brilliant as is Derek and they both are fluent in English, which
is not that common here in my limited experience.

Cher organized medicines. Purchasing is limited to once a month unless doctors (there are 4 now) give interim prescriptions as opposed to the suspect daily purchases of Cee. I discovered that medicines alone cost between 37 to 42,000 a month. Appointments are once a month on average.

Although my health continued to plummet with three hospitalizations and new problems, in the past two months there has been an upturn. Tests and blood pressure are within normal limits and stabilized. That never happened in the States over the years. I am getting good care. More than I want and all that I need.

Finally, I have noted repeated assertions that in RP "age makes no difference". There are numerous examples of 50 and 60 yr old youngsters with 21 yr old babes. You call that proof? I decided to put this premise to a real test. I joined a Filipino dating service; yes I did, procured a relatively recent photo, wrote an honest profile but shame on me, I chickened out and lied about my age. I wrote that I was 80. Perhaps that explains the result.

Stay tuned Chuck in Iloilo
 

A Senior Comes to Paradise
Part III
Every Paradise has snakes and bad fruit - so what!

In Part I, I discussed my decision to come to RP, my son's reaction and ultimate assistance.
He stayed for a week to settle me in. I was hospitalized, Had a party and found a house in one week

Part II dealt most with newly adopted family and helpers `a staff of 3 served as live-in companions for each hospitalization but my decision to hire a professional nurse caused a major rift resulting in Cee quitting taking Bo and Auntil. Nurse Cher came aboard along with Derek.

Then there was the Philippine dating service - - -

I had decided to test the outer limits of the often alleged premise: "age makes no difference" I joined a dating service with a relatively recent photo and your basic profile. I avoided honors, positions, awards and the like which tend to direct focus to image rather than character. Speaking of character, I shamefully admit to lying about my age thus skewing a perfectly good scientific test. I hope I am not arrested. Regretfully,
I felt the profile compelled mention of education and degrees. I was honest in that regard in mentioning my advanced degrees. Again, a distraction. There are many degreed bastards in the world and I have met them. I have been accused of being one. I cannot say how or even if that influenced the results.
Oh yes, I suspect you want to know the results. I am tempted to save that delicious bit of information for Part IV, if there is a Part IV. However, the emails I have received suggest that I had better get on with it.

I would suggest that you sit down first. As of today, I have received close to five hundred (500) responses!!!!!!!! Leah, HELP !!!These are all ages from 18 (under 18 need not apply) to 67. As of last check, there have been no 49 yr olds. It is my understanding that in Chinese culture "49" is an undesirable age. Women will declare 50 instead of 49. There have been responses from throughout the Philippines, Russia, China and Africa!!!

Now, I know I am an appealing dreamer but I am not completely immune to reality. This was like asking for a drink of spring water and getting a tsunami!!!!!
I had to ask WHY? Checked the mirror – No help! Nothing in the profile. It must have been the lie about my age. NOT. I had to wrench myself away from the tall, virile, handsome image in the mirror which I had pasted there, and look at that decrepit, sick old man and think! I processed several scenarios:

1. Fatal Attraction ! (It Could Happen) Yeah – 500 times instantaneously !! Give me a break !!!'

2. Love the old fool to death and live happily ever after". Ok, let me think about that one.

3. Princesses imprisoned in a tower of poverty behind a locked door to opportunity, spy a crusty old knight with a broken lance and rusty armor, hobbling on a crippled mule. They believe his saddle bags contain the golden keys to their deliverance. They comb their long black tresses, flash their devastating smiles and sing siren songs of love forevermore. Any lance mechanics in the house?

So what have I proved?
Well, you will not believe this but that glass of spring water did ultimately emerge!!
I could not believe it!!. An accomplished lady, young enough to be my daughter (isn't everyone?), a professor at a State College, started a correspondence and visited me twice. I exposed her to the worst of me and to my myriad doctors and tests but that did not discourage her. When I offered to contribute to her airfare, she refused. She never, never asked for anything. I was overwhelmed ! I asked her to marry me and apparently she (characteristic woman) had already intimated to friends in her academic community that this was a possibility.She, Leah do you hear me, insisted that we do a pre-nuptial agreement !!

My number one son at first said: "I hope this is an early April Fool's joke"
Then he agreed to come to be my "bestMan".
Second son emailed a terse "Congratulations".

But then, I had to face cold reality again. Doctors warned me about stress on my incurable heart problem. and that is just one of the problems. Having been through marriages, I know that in the best of times, just the planning is stressful let alone the actual fact of adjustment. I told Flo (name changed) that I could not go through with the marriage. She was devastated, but we are in daily contact and remain friends. In fact she is dedicating a couple of her research projects to me. Oh, to be 70 again!!!

When I cancelled, my five doctors, , breathed a collective sigh of relief ! I didn't know it was that bad but I can rise above reality. I plan to "LIVE" until I die.

Chuck in Iloilo
 

A Senior Comes to Paradise
Part IV

In Part I, I spoke of my first week in Paradise which was very eventful with an almost week long hospitalization, and a party with my new "family". All of that was especially important for my son to experience before he left at the end of the week. Another important event Occurred by miraculous coincidence. A conversation by members of my `family' while riding a jeepney (Google jeepney) was overheard by a staff member of my current landlady.

They went to the house, collected me and son. The next day I signed a 6 month's lease (yes I wondered about that 6 month's bit but I kept quiet) and moved in the day son had to leave.

In addition, son who was very sensitive about providing adequate compensation for services for me, asked Bee (name has been changed) what salary, Cee, her sister who had returned from employment in Hong Kong, had received in Hong Kong. Bee said 400.
My son and I were ignorant of pay scales in RP so by California standards, this seemed quite reasonable. So much for my research.He immediately agreed assuming that Cee had received $400 USD. Of course with the then exchange rate this translated into 20,000 p per month far in excess of professional nurses in hospitals (6,000).
Cee immediately hired Auntie to be full time live in maid. She paid her 1500 p for cleaning, laundry, some cooking and whatever else Cee told her to do. Cee was live in also. Cee also hired her brother Bo to be an on-call helper. He was available to provide brawn if needed when I had to go for medical appointments. Cee paid him 5000 p per month. Thus I learned first hand the sometimes irrationally fiece family loyalty.
It should be noted that as of the day we went to the airport in SF, I was mobile and walking unassisted. I had long standing ailments so I might be described as walking wounded.
Over my objection, son insisted that I pack a walker. I did. How do these kids get to be so damn smart !?!?

From the day I arrived, my health has mysteriously worsened. Frankly, I began to suspect that my multiple medicines, 21 daily at one point, were dangerous to my health. Then I wondered if Cee was trying to be helpful with her knowledge of Chinese alternative medicine which she hd picked up in Hong Kong. Chalk it up to my paranoia. Sometimes I think I am getting old. The result, in seven months here, I was hospitalized six times for an average stay of a week. Even with pretty nurses, that does get old!!!

Because, it was necssary to have cash for medicines and tests and because I could not get out of bed, I had to give my debit cards to Cee with pin numbers to get cash after my son left.There are three accounts. It occurred to me that imposing this ultimate trust on Cee was grossly unfair to both of us.I had no choice. This was the only way to get the cash for this pay-as-you-go system. All new to me. Now would you lock your most trustworthy child in a chocolate factory? My caregiver had to procure the chocolate. I hoped she didn't eat too much.
Cee is intelligent with moderate English capability and a lot of common sense. She handled the medicines, buying and administering as well as medical appointments. More than one time I objected to the doctor and she discussing my case in my presence using Ilongo which I do not understand. They both were capable in English. I should have remembered from my experience, that speaking in your native tongue is
functioning in your comfort zone.
Cee was a natural administrator. She managed more than the medical chores. She worked the stew out of Auntie. But my paranoia set in again. I worried about a non-professional having this much responsibility for my health.
Then serendipity !!! The house that I rented is a brand new two story, two apartment house in the family compound of my landlady. She has turned out to be a rare gem because she has helped with her extensive contacts. She knows or is related to everybody.
Her 22 year old son is a recent college graduate who visited me, this old foreign oddity, with his girlfriend. Girlfriend happens to be a graduate nurse. I asked her to work for me. I felt that I could not pay her less than Cee so I offered 20,000 a month which she gleefully accepted. When I told Cee, the proverbial ^&*hit the fan ! Why did you want to do that!!!!
Then Cee asked how much I would pay Cher (name changed) when I told her 20,000, Cee was livid !!! How could I pay her so much?? Reminding her that Cher is a professional and getting the same salary as Cee, made absolutely no impression. Cee quit on the spot taking Auntie and Bo with her!!! I had not planned to fire her even though I suspected that she had succumbed to the "child in the chocolate factory" syndrome. Her quitting, what in RP is a good job, mystified me and fueled my paranoia. After all, she bought medicines
daily, she had free access to my debit cards and pin numbers, she had exceptionally strong family ties especially with her mother who had high blood pressure .
There was other inconclusive circumstantial evidence but even still I was prepared to keep her on.
She provided the organization which I have sadly lacked throughout my life, age notwithstanding. If I had not been possessed of absent-mindedness all my life, I would have suspected dementia.

My x wife and children never let me forget the time that my X sent me to the store for light bulbs and I came home with a lawnmower. But no light bulbs! MY X once said: "You have always been eccentric" At first I thought she was paying me an uncharacteristic compliment, but I now wonder. There are many other
stories about my fabled missteps but I will spare you. Since early childhood I have been a dreamer. I was
placed in foster homes when I was 4 years old, sponsored by a Catholic relief agency in the city of Philadelphia. I started school in St Peter Clavier's in the poor section. It was there I had my first epiphany. The Parish Priest came to my second grade class to award a prize to the best reader in the class. When he called my name, I was stunned. I won a book which I read again and again. It literally fell apart but from that time on I was happily hooked. I know I have rambled but I think the secret of my mental lapses lies in
that one early mind blowing event. At 10 years, my mother's only surviving childless sister took me.
She was a bible toting Baptist with no use for Catholics never the less she enrolled me in a Catholic elementary school, St Joachim. She did not trust public schools. In addition, she took me to the public library to get a library card. I never saw that woman read any book but the bible. She and her husband were under-educated highly intelligent people. They did worry that I lived in the dream world of the books that I discovered, like "Twenty Thousand Leagues Unter the Sea" "The Three Musketeers", Les Miserables,
and many others. My aunt literally forced me to go out and play. I never recovered from the dream state. I needed a Cee. After all, I had already lost two overly organized and totally frustrated wives. My life has been done my way but I have learned that for reasons I don't understand, the majority of people in the world do not do it my way. Lol

That is a part of the context which leads me here. Cher moved in and Derek, her bf and landlady's son became my caregiver under Cher's loving tutelage. Derek has a business degree. They do a first rate job although I accuse Cher of being my momma. I obey her. She is highly intelligent, maybe brilliant as is Derek and they both are fluent in English which is not that common here in my limited experience. Cher organized medicines.

Purchasing is limited to once a month unless doctors (there are 5 now) give interim prescriptions as opposed to the suspect daily purchases of Cee. I discovered that medicines alone cost between 37 to 42,000 a month. Appointments are once a month on average. Although my health continued to plummet with three hospitalizations and new problems,

in the past two months there has been an upturn. Tests and blood pressure are within normal limits and stabilized. That never happened in the States over the years. I am getting good care. More than I want and all that I need. Finally, I have noted repeated assertions that in RP "age makes no difference".
There are numerous examples of 50 and 60 yr old youngsters with 21 yr old babes. You call that proof?
I decided to put this premise to a real test. I joined a Filipino dating service, yes I did, procured a relatively recent photo, wrote an honest profile but, shame on me, I chickened out and lied about my age. I wrote that I was 80. Perhaps that explains the result.

Stay tuned
Chuck in Iloilo
 

A Senior Comes to Paradise
Part V

Offline messages regarding these posts do compel some replies. There is considerable interest in the after effect of my romance with Flo. Actually, I asked her to write her take on the events which I had planned to submit unedited. I have not done so because she wrote an intensely personal message that the moderators would find unacceptable because it is directed to one person- ME.

Just a clue: her message began a la Elizabeth Barrett Browning, "Why do I love thee I love you because of what you are…" and so on. If you want ot know the rest, an offline request will get you the rest. We talk
twice a day on average.

Then there was an interesting question about Cee, my head caregiver companion who quit. She too, has kept in touch. Cee is 31 years old is married to a merchant seaman who is currently aboard ship. His contract is for seven months. They are saving to build a house on land that they own close to the beach.

On one journey his ship put into Manila and Cee was able to visit him aboard. She is looking for work. Her sister Bee married to an American had orchestrated our relationship. In fact, when I agreed to come to Iloilo, Bee called Cee in Hong Kong where she was working and persuaded her to get back to Iloilo. So when Cee quit, Later Cee told me that Bee was very upset with her. Bee keeps her attention on the bottom line.

I was a cottage industry for the family. Cee threw away this industry when she quit. After she quit I think she had second thoughts. The question in my mind is what was the real reason that she quit? Cee was overpaid. She had to know this because when I gave Cher the same amount, Cee was incensed!! The fact that Cher is a graduate nurse, a professional, made no difference to Cee. She felt I should not have been paying her so much money although she never complained about her salary which was exactly the same. Was she a good caregiver? Yes without question. She had raw talent as an administrative assistant but
unlike Cher she was afraid of anything electrical and blood terrified her. Other than that she took the "absent" out of absent-minded that characterizes yours truly. She could find things I misplaced even obscure (to her) manuals. I value that. I was fond of her and I think the feeling was mutual. On my birthday, June 6tth, she, her mother, who is always with her and several little children of the family brought me a delicious cake. I ate a small piece.

Why was I so suspicious of her. Well there was an incident which does not prove guilt but made me wonder. At one point when Cee, Bo and I were at KFC, Bo asked Cee speaking Ilongo to get him 35,000 p to buy a motorcycle. Cee translated for me and told me that she had refused. A few weeks later when I was concerned about mysteriously dwindling balances in one account, I told Cee I wanted to go to that bank to check on the account.

At that moment, in a avery casual voice, Cee said that the week before she had won 50,000 pesos at bingo and had bought a motorcycle for her brother. The timing made my antennae shoot up. A few days later when her mother and I were alone at a birthday party, mother, whose English is not too good, told me that Cee had won 70,000 pesos at bingo and had given it all to her! A few days later, sister Bee in the states called to say "Hi" and casually mentioned that Cee had won money at Bingo and bought a motorcycle for
her father. I never questioned Cee about any of this or even hinted that I was suspicious but she volunteered that she knew I did not trust her. So when she quit ostensibly in protest about my hiring Cher, I suspected that she was afraid some of her activities would be uncovered. There was no smoking gun but I sure smelled smoke. Money in the account had dwindled but I never found out why or even if it was above and beyond the doctors and hospital expenses. I could not prove a thing so I have to say that Cee was
innocent because not proven guilty. She and Bo started to pressure me to move because my rent was too high. Indeed it was and is at 25,000 pesos per month but that is another story.

Cee made it clear that she did not like being on this compound. Remember, my landlady takes a personal interest in my welfare and I discovered after Cee left that the compound where everything is known about everyone, was concerned about Cee. She had a daily habit of disappearing in the afternoon for several hours, coming back late at night before I would go to bed. The compound, including landlady was very critical of this behavior. Cee and Bo actually identified a house which they said belonged to an aunt. It was
close to Cee' mother's house and not associated with a compound. When asked how much Cee said it
woul be 20,000 per month. I objected that this was not a great saving whereupon Cee said that after three months it would be reduced to 15,000. They took me to see the house which was being refurbished. There was no AC, no fridge, no stove. The young man there who was representing his dad in the states said the tenant would have to supply.

When I asked the rent he said 15,000. Still, Cee and Bo persisted. They wanted me to make the deal right away even suggesting that my son would approve. Finally, I flat out said No. I was not going to move.

I recognized an attempt to control and a possible mistaken assumption that a weakened physical condition translated into weakened mental and emotional condition thus making me susceptible to control. I had to put a stop to that. I had been guilty of misleading them with my laid back attitude.

Cee is not proven guilty but she is a person of interest.

Cher and Derek are a different story. They have two of my cards with the pin numbers but we do reviews of withdrawals and cash on hand. Derek has a business degree so he does an accounting not only to me but to my son in the States. I can't say enough about them. They prove all of the positive comments about
nurturing care in the Philippines. I have been warned about overpayment and indeed I thought that I was over paying Cher. Considering her expanded value to me I did not care.

But then I found out that actually I am underpaying her. Cher has classmates who are doing private nursing at a hospital and receiving 32,000pesos per month. Cher gets 20,000. My conscience has been salved if my nerves are not. Her family, like so many, needs money. I cannot afford to lose her. I would be willing to over pay her, but don't tell her.

There has been considerable comment about the romance and one person said that receiving 500 responses to my dating caper was not surprising. He at one time in the past had received 1500!! But then was he 84???

One advantage to Cher and Derek is they are always getting visitors usually beautiful classmates and friends. They never fail to bring them to meet me. Then I take their pictures which I print on the spot. They pose with me up close and personal for a photo. I now have a great collection which would make the most depraved lothario jealous.

Why do I think ot "The Picture of Dorian Gray"? My great SLR camera is My weapon of mass seduction !
Did I mention that Cher is beautiful as well as brilliant? What a combination. This is a Third World Country with First World People. I am lucky and privileged to be here.

Chuck in Iloilo
 

A Senior Comes to Paradise
Part VI

What is in my makeup, what is in your makeup that gives us the will and the drive to come to the Philippines? Do not be alarmed, I am not advocating a new ethnicity- no superior/inferior comparisons. Just differences like different heights, different foot sizes.

The question: are people who elect to relocate here identifiably different? Many of your stay-at home kin and friends think so. "He/she is a character." `He/she is odd. Isn't it reasonable to raise the eyebrows at those who leave First World Countries to relocate to Third World Countries.

Well, it is for some but our attitudes and perceptions and values are becoming globalized. And there are a few, a precious few with that special something that makes them move.

We band of brothers…
Oh sure I know the reasons we all state for coming here and they are true. Living in the philippines is a compelling web site Even still, does it take a special kind of character to make the move, not better nor worse just different. `Character' is the operative word. Typical male chauvinism equates risky adventurism to male appendages when it is positive. We say he has balls. Most unfair to women who are equally
capable of risky adventure. Amelia Earhart comes to mind. Not many western women are as attracted to relocation.

Feminism not withstanding, the female seems to carry an ingrained nesting instinct. She tends not to roam. I base this on historical evidence.

Filipinas relocate compelled by that same feminine instinct. Not for the reasons that males do. The reason for that seems clear. But why aren't there a few million other male with similar conditions, on the way here? Why will They not come? Why? Perhaps it is the lack of the eccentric gene. Women may not have the balls but they can have the eccentric gene which is counter-balanced by the maternal gene. Without this stabilizing influence, we men would be roaming lost.
 

Are you all eccentric? My X had said to me "You have always been eccentric"
"Thank you dear" but why wasn't she smiling?
My X was and still is the ultimate conformist born an only child of a doting mother who was intelligent, warm loving and completely ignorant of the facts of life. A quality that she passed on to her daughter.
After we were married, I was amazed to find out that my X thought all black bovines were bulls. Yet, this
child-woman, duplicate bridge player, reminiscent of a Charles Dickens' character in "David Copperfield" had in a few words accurately defined the essence of my character whose fate would bring me to the Philippines.

So, what's your excuse? Have you been fondled by the fickle finger of fate? I say you are all eccentric. Welcome brothers and sisters . You are the people who make the planet live and move. You are the Einsteins, the Isaac Newtons, Michalangelos, Davincis, Mozarts,Christopher Columbus, the Ghandis, the Mother Theresas, Joan of Arc, The Martin Luther Kings, The Thomas Jeffersons, the astronauts, the
pioneers who go where angels fear to tread, (but not G.A. who is fearless) blazing new paths for the rest of the world to follow.

Your progeny may populate Mars. I bet there are many of you out there who dream of escaping "the surly bonds" pf earth. You go eccentrics !!! Did I say "no superior" etc.? I lied again. Please no offense..
How did I get here? My journey began when I was about five or six. I hate to brag but fidelity to historical fact compels me to rise above principle. At that early age, my action had a powerful impact on American history (US history that is-`America' includes Mexico and Canada plus a few others).

We poor kids in Philadelphia foster homes were brought to see Independence Hall and the famous Liberty Bell the revered symbol of US struggle for independence. It is older than the United States. It sat on a red carpet on the floor, protected by a velvet rope to keep the likes of us from sullying its' sacred surface. Its' famous crack was clearly visible.

For reasons now lost to memory probably dangerous peer pressure, I slipped under the rope barrier, ran up to the bell and put my grubby little hand squarely on the crack.
At that point a voice louder than God boomed "Now look what you done!!!!" My knees buckled, my
hand trembled, still on the crack, I mumbled "Mister, I didn't do it" and I had witnesses too. Well, today, that bell is securely locked in an unapproachable viewing cage. Now you know why. So you see, my dna will be found centuries from now and scientists will wonder at this little being who lived before the United States.

Obviously there was a group of little people whose technology equated that of the ill-fated Titannic.
The eccentric gene has been there and every once in a while it exhibits itself. Even my four children, three boys and one girl, reflect it unbeknownst to them. I have two Jewish grandchildren, three Moslem grandchildren and two WASP (White Anglo Saxon Protestant)..

Mixed culture marriage is the norm. I did learn along the way. When I started school, walking was the only way to go. My school was not in an upscale neighborhood. In fact, I did not know there was such an animal.

One rainy day, while walking and trying to avoid the bricks where the water would spray you if you stepped on it and wet the cardboard insert in the shoe with a hole, I was passing a row house which fronted onto the
street. A small man came running out of the house obviously fearful for his life. Instead of running away, he pressed himself up against the house between the windows. I was riveted as a big, I mean BIG arm barely emerged from the left window. At the end of the arm there was a hand holding a large bottle. The arm began to rotate like a propellor. Finally, the bottle was released with rocket propelled force and it sailed past the nose of our terrified friend going into the other window. I think the wind from the passing rocket must have burned his nose. The sidewalk was already wet so he was spared further embarrassment. It
was then that I learned the value of position.

It was a year or two later that I went to my first camp. By then I had developed my first friend. Some of the older boys let us come along as we slipped out of camp to go to a quarry. There were no adults allowed. Every one, including my friend, jumped into this bottomless water hole. My only experience was the occasional bathtub When I saw my friend dog paddle his way around, I jumped in. They pulled me out after I went down the third time. I was really upset (read `scared') because I lost my swim trunks.
Fortunately, no one seemed to care. Many years later, I taught myself to swim – in the ocean off Atlantic City.

Nearly drowned there too. There was no apparent help available but I think G.A, was preserving me to
come to the RP. G. A. (Guardian Angel) has been severely challenged to keep me alive all these years. Don't forget the sky-dive when I was 82. An old friend, (not my X) said "It just proves you have more guts than brains". No, I was not trying to top George Bush Sr.
First of all, he was younger and
secondly, he had experience when his plane was shot out of the sky.
Third, I think he was a politician. The political gene sometimes imitates the eccentric gene. Don't
compare me to him.

Experiences in Africa and Asia all presented "interesting" life threatening experiences. My son plans to write my biography post mortem. (I hate when that happens!) I will not repeat those stories here. Suffice it to say there have been two wars and several insurgencies, camping with wild animals in East Africa, two wives etc.etc. but through it all I never carried a gun.

The point of this is to explain what in my background contributes to the psyche that elects to come to the Philippines.

There is more evidence of my eccentricity. It is my position that my X would describe all of you here as "eccentric" but don't let it go to your heads. She would define "eccentric" as "nut case". I am sure she did not mean that when she described me as eccentric.

How could she? ,
After all,she did not know about the Liberty Bell caper.
However, she did have some evidence. We had a nice middle class house in suburbia in Sacramento, California and I was well employed but after a certain event which need not be repeated here. I went home and announced that we were moving to Africa !! She and her mother who was living with us and working for a Sacramento legislator, were profoundly shocked!! I was so surprised. Don't do this at home!!!!

The beginning of the end was when X who was closer to her mother than to me, asked: "Can't you go without us?" She was comfortable living a good life of bridge and social banter. I never mastered either. There was no way I could leave those cute little boys. We left mother-in-law in charge of the house and went off to Ghana. A few months later the split became official.

My eccentric gene once more manifested itself when I went to work during the coup and battles that ovethrew Kwame Nkrumah the United States educated dictator. I could hear the gunfire from my office but I stayed at my desk. At the time I was heading the Peace Corps program there. A similar experience occurred in Vienam when John Paul Vann, my boss, ordered me to interview the mayor of Kontum. During the interview rockets started faling.

We went to a cave and continued with candles. Rockets were not acceptable excuses for John Paul Vann.
It was not well known that because of the cold war, the Soviet Union launched its counter Peace Corps in Ghana. The government under Nkrumah delighted in tweaking Uncle Sam's nose and it was because of this that my eccentric gene asserted itself. The Minister of Education was anti-American even though it was he who approved the Peace Corps program. There was an editorial in the official party organ of the gov't
favorably comparing the Soviet program to that of the "CIA Infested US Peace Corps program" (A lie)
With the approval of the US Ambassador who made it clear I was on my own and would have no support or back up, I went to see the Minister I had a long wait with my friend who happened to be his deputy who warned me that this powerful man could be dangerous to my health. (I regret that I have but one life...) Finally, I was admitted and stood in front of his desk for what seemed to to be ten minutes before, without
looking up he demanded "What do you want?"

I said "Sir, if you read the paper, someone is undermining your work". Mind you he probably wrote the article. The upshot, he threw me out of his office. I learned later that Washington was so worried that there was talk of pulling me out of Ghana. I stayed.
Your question has to be is it necessary to have this gene to leave your comfort zone, your culture, your language, your food, your shops, your friends, your families to relocate, to relearn.
Maybe not necessary but it sure helps.

Chuck in Iloilo
 

A Senior Comes to Paradise Part VII

First you have a dream. Then you make a plan. The best laid plans are ineffective without action. Some of us live in dreams all the time. All of us live in dreams some of the time.

There are those given to action without plan (read `thought'). Thought before action is akin to the plan without which the action can be dangerous to your health.

But there are those who translate their dreams into plans and action.

I had a dream. I did not have a plan. This put my dream on a par with prayer. Would a higher power provide the plan? G. A. where are you when I need you? Then the answer came in the shape of my sons who live in the real world. They deal with reality. They plan and they act. They provided the plan and the action for my dream. (thank you G.A.) They translated it into reality.
Number one son became the project manager, laborer, pit boss.
He had to plow through years and decades of priceless (lol) "collectibles", elementary school through college papers, fifty year old office files, art objects from around the world and then fight with me about disposition of these priceless belongings until he became sneaky and stopped asking or even talking about his actions. I learned not to ask and never to look. Kids just have no appreciation for history.

LoL Number one son inherited his exceptional capacity for managing and organizing from his mom. I was her major ffailure. Son spent days and weeks working the project, while managing his wife-assigned
family chores, transporting children and oh yes, he did have official responsibilities for the US gov't.

Frankly, I have no idea how he put all this together. Now, let me clarify something. It is not that I cannot do, it is just that I did not have the time. OOPS, I said I would never tell another lie and now I have told two. After I taught myself to skate, ride a bicycle, and swim my effective learning waned, maybe it is because I was always self-taught and I had such a lousy teacher.
I had dreamed of doing a sky-dive too (well how else do you impress your accomplished children?).

My number two son the commercial airlines pilot who flew F4s for the Marines, tends to be more adventuresome than the other children, especially when it is my adventure. He made the arrangements and Nov. 7th, 2004 I pulled it off in California much to his delight.

Number one son who was at Harvard more than 2000 miles away, was shocked speechless! As it turned out, one year later to the day, we landed in the Philippines thanks to No. one's diligence, planning and hard work.

The lesson for me was: get rid of that old junk you have been packing around for years. Or go to the movies while your kids get rid of it. We donated tons of old clothes for Katrina relief. Backlogs overtook backlogs and soon, I was rendered helpless but not as hopeless as the poor souls in the Super Dome.

Son, who has my full power-of–attorney, arranged charitable distributions, took care of business requirements, redirected mail, closed accounts and finally set a date for departure, procured visas from San Francisco Consulate Office of Philippine Embassy, booked the flight and bought the tickets.

The plan came together. Should you have the dream to come to RP I seriously recommend a talented, but practical partner in the execution of your dream especially if you dream of coming to the Philippines.

Sorry, my son is not available.
However, if you are possessed of the managerial, organizational talent and have the energy, you are probably too young to retire and in any case do not have enough money to sustain yourself here. I know, I know with all your talent and all your energy, you will work when you come !!!
Now you are really dreaming the impossible dream!!!. Stay at home, work, build up your retirement nest egg and let one of your kids help you get here after you retire and have used up all that excess energy. Hopefully, a little romantic energy will be preserved for romantic opportunity. I would recommend the move before your 80th birthday. When you reach 80, romantic opportunities will still present , the
question is how much romantic energy do you have in reserve to squeeze through the door to
romantic opportunity..

Ahem !! Of course I am speaking generally not personally.

Son, continued his project management duties even after we arrived here. However, the inadequacy of my research was exposed. Had I read more carefully and studied the postings, I would have had a better idea of the pay scales, real estate rentals etc.
The result was in our ignorance, we ended up paying much more than should have been paid. On the other hand even if I had that good information, it may not have helped since son, in full battle gear, was making arrangements and paying the money in his best "son takes care of dad" configuration. I am paying for it now but I am not complaining because without him, this would have been another dream deferred. He
only stayed a week but when he returned to the States, he was and is my personal support.

As I lived here, I discovered what I could get here and what is not available. He supplies missing items but he has been paying the exorbitant fees of the very reliable federal express. Recently, my reading of posts, uncovered a suggested alternative, USABOX.COM which is essentially a mail forwarding system. We are now investigating this cheaper alternative.

Do not delude yourself, you will miss certain things unless you are emotionally paralyzed. I am sure that I was never nursed as an infant and I miss it !! LOL I miss the occasional dining out Manhattan, the escargot (hold the snails), the large raw oysters with hot sauce, (think raw bar Grand Central Station NY). fresh
Alaska King Crab, New Orleans gumbo, and then there are those wonderful exotic dishes from abroad:. Steak and kidney pie, soupe de poisson, kippers and eggs. Then back home did I mention gently cooked calves liver with bacon and onion and creamy mashed potatoes? How about a tender T bone? I had better stop.
Son cannot help me there but if I could travel , I know there are places possibly in Manila, that could fulfill
some of these desires. I wonder if I could have the butcher grind up a good piece of meat (oxymoron???)
so I could make some good hamburgher patties? But if it is a good piece of meat why grind it up? The occasional hot dog from the states would be nice. I have tasted the local version.
I grew up in northern United States but my heritage is first cousin to the south so I am of the grits lover persuasion. I like them all ways, with bacon and eggs or ham and eggs and red-eye gravy, or with sugar and milk, cheese and grits casserole or day after patties sautéed. Try those with syrup.. Yum Yum. I know I am sounding like the grumpy old man, the dissatisfied expat but I do have rights you know. No one can take away my dreams. When you get to be my age, planning may be foolhardy and action impossible. I
don't buy green bananas anymore.

So does missing all of this mean I am turning back. Hell NO !!! It just means that when I can get enough money and visas for my nurse and caregiver, we will take a trip to the States and I will pig out for two or three weeks, tour, shop, regale my friends and former associates with tales of life in these romantic isles and then come back.

Yes, I love the United States and I have been in every State except one. I have experienced it. Now before
it is too late, if it is not already, I dream of something new. I want to see and photograph:
The beautiful beaches and bikinis
The talcum powder beaches of Boracay
The Tarsier monkey of Bohol
The exotic beauty of Palawan
The ancient churches of Iloilo
The mountains on Mindanao
The tiny lake shrouded volcano Taal
The perfect cone of Mayon volcano
The mysterious Chocolate hills
The Banaue rice terraces of Luzon
The powdery beaches of Marbuena Island
The crystal waters of Marbuena
The occasional night club
The soft-tempered faces that smile at you
The well-tempered jeans that make you smile
The warm nurturing culture of loving care.
The rest of Paradise may have to wait
This is the promise of Paradise.
I have a dream !

Chuck of Iloilo
 

A Senior Comes to Paradise Part VIII

Ten months in a new country, new culture, new social environment, hardly qualifies one to comment on that new environment. However, it is fair to observe the new sights, smells, sensations, emotions experienced. I think those observations are valuable to record.

Ten, or even two years later those first impressions will be lost, never to be regained.

So, with apologies, I attempt to capture through my wide-eyed filters before they darken to non-seeing opaqueness.

What have I seen with my allegedly fresh eyes?

I have seen sheer physical beauty which is enhanced by an indefinable inner beauty.

I have been mystified because I have not adapted my subtle humor(???) to the more literal communication of this second language culture.

Already the crazy cocks have submerged into the recesses of background hum, thereby saving themselves from annihilation.

I still have not found the definitive answer to my question about the absence of toilet seats in public places including hospitals. One reader suggested that it is because Filipinos squat. The Filipinas I have asked were not sure of the answer but did admit that they never make contact with the toilet. I think that may be true in the western world as well. I have no reliable info from Filipinos who of course have the advantage of the urinal.

More than one Filipina blames this on the government.

I perceive a more innocent society, but more easily corruptible by the simple need to eat and to help one's family at any cost. I have personally witnessed the cohesiveness of the extended family. When a family
member is under attack, rightfully or wrongfully, the rest of the family circles the wagons.

Then there are the irresistibly cute children with wide eyes and unembarrassed stares.

The malls seem to belie the poverty in the country and I remain puzzled by the apparently well stocked stores. Who can buy to keep them open?

The dominance of food is overwhelming. Eating is more than a pastime, it is a devotion. Considering the devout dedication to food, I am surprised by the lack of obesity or even just over weight in the malls.
The slim jean wearing bodies are cookie cuttered to be found always strolling with a cell phone in hand but never talking.

I was surprised by the number of schools that I found in Iloilo. Of course, I cannot comment on quality of education. Regarding quality of education the best evidence is the product and my nurse and caregiver/companion are well educated and on a par with the best in the U.S.

I learned to accept me from those innocent eyes that seemed to accept me without judgement.
It is one thing to read generalized assertions about the Filipina and quite another to experience the truth and untruth of those assertions. I have discovered that one cannot trust those generalized statements
e.g. all Filipinas are scammers. I know from personal experience in this short time that scammers exist. I know from personal experience that there are unbelievable Filipinas who not only do not scam but reject, out of hand, legitimate offers of assistance from foreigner resources.

In this context, or maybe not, I remain amazed by the 500 and counting, responses to my `dating' experience. Out of this flood, I found one and possibly two that I can say without reservation, are not scammers and I have read enough posts of others who can say the same. These ladies are financially stable, own real estate, employed and not in the least interested in the United States. They never ask for anything. I would not be surprised to find others in the 500 who are the same. I am still checking. So why are these ladies interested in me?

Are you not aware of my baby blue eyes, my Apollo like physique, my Casanova persuasion??? Well, neither am I. Go figger !!!

On the oher hand, as I have encountered evidence of the pitiably low salaries for those "fortunate" few who have jobs, I am surprised that even more Filipinas do not resort to the opportunities presented by the "rich" foreigner resource. Those that are unemployed still carry the relentless family responsibility. Often their only recourse is to sell their beautiful bodies or their clever wits. This is a comment, not a
recommendation. This pattern has existed throughout human history, fueled by the laws of `dee man'
and supply, moral constraints notwithstanding.

I know of at least one family whose ancestry has been traced to a catholic priest. How many more are there?

In my naivete, I found that shocking. Any further comment is inappropriate and in bad taste. Then there are those daring pedestrians who stroll across the street defying the jeepneys and all traffic laws known to man.

I have been equally amazed at the drivers' agility to avoid contact in narrow spaces.

Equally intriguing is lack of hostility or outrage expressed verbally or otherwise. I find the horn to be the equivalent to the running lights on a ship rather than a shot across the bow. If there is nothing in front of you, you have the right of way. This is somewhat similar to what I found in Thailand years ago except Thai driving was far more frightening. There, the prevailing rule seemed to be: wherever there is a space
occupy it.. Turning from any lane is permissible if you don't hit somebody or something.

I am a touch typist, having practiced the skill over the years since high school. In those days, boys did not take secretarial courses but since I had been brainwashed about going to college and I realized I would have to fund it, I needed to develope money making skills. Actually it worked. In college I could not afford a typewriter but a classmate had a brand new royal portable but could not type. So, a la Donald Trump (not) I made a deal. Let me have the machine and I will type the class notes. Worked like a charm. Have you
heard of carbon paper?

What does this have to do with the Philippines? I can type with my eyes closed if you put my hands in position. Similarly, I can play the piano with my eyes closed. But how many of you can text with your eyes closed??? I am amazed by Filipinos/as who can do just that !!!!!!! I never heard of texting in the States. I am still hesitant to try. My hands and fingers are too big. That is why I prefer the keyboards of desktops vs the
laptops. Now I understand the mall scene of slender maidens with cell phone in hand and rapid thumb
movement.
Ok, OK, now that I am in Rome, I will learn to roam. On the other hand, how often do I need to communicate so badly that I will substitute my clumsy text for voice to voice?

Brownouts teach us inveterate computer users one valuable lesson – SAVE or go insane or at least stark raving mad ! If you have not saved and suddenly everything goes dark, you realize that never again will you capture that particular turn of phrase that made your heart sing, or that special inspiration translated into prose or poetry. For those not subjected to the brownout phenomenon, they are never predictable or maybe they are predictable. They occur when you least want them.
If you have pets, they are like Tabby, jumping onto your keyboard and finding your delete key as you complete your magnum opus. Don't you realize that Tabby is simply trying to google; "sell Fido on
ebay"? Does not matter because now you are in danger of offending animal rights lovers. Tabby
has lost your affection but does not seem to care. And so it is with brownouts.

With all of the brazen brashness and temerity of an 18 year old phenomenon who writes his life story, I herewith submit the final installment of my ten month life story in Paradise with apologies to all.

Chuck in Iloilo
 

A Senior Comes to Paradise Part IX

Part VIII was the final installment!!!

Did I say that? I am told that I said I am 80 years old. Well, when you get to be my age, aren't you entitled to a little slack. I knew one old man who was given to embellishing stories, who used to say: "The naked truth jes ain't interessin'". So, here I am unable to avail myself even of that rationale launching an appeal for tolerance for the ramblings of an absent-minded old man.

There is something to report. I am up at 4:00 AM with those damn roosters as usual. I have no choice but to write. Writing enhances my Anti-cock immune system somewhat but the little blaggards (this word avoids the obscenity that is in my mind) do not rest. It occurred to me, that their trainers (yes they have trainers) subscribe to the Athletic trainer notion that sex deprivation make them fiercer fighters. There are no hens in reach. I can relate to that! Ok, you prove me wrong!!!!

This morning represents an important first. Last night, nurse packed my bags.!!! Imagine.
someone packing your bags for you. As much as I have traveled, I hate to pack. Most of the time I started packing at midnight to catch a 6:00 AM flight. And here my brilliant (don't tell her I said so), beautiful (keep that to yourself), efficient (just between us) nurse has packed my bags!! So why is she packing my bags?

This morning, I will be making my first pleasure trip to another island. Of course Cher and Derek are going with me. We go by Hovercraft which runs every hour. It is about a one hour trip. We are going to Bacolod.

One of those proven non-scammer ladies that I met online, will meet us in her car to show us around ! From her picture, which could easily be 20 years old but I don't care, I suspect she beautiful. She is a widow of 8 years and childless. Her English is fluent and she is retired. I think I have found another Filipina friend and I don't have to ask "Is she real"? Drives her own car, owns her home, never asks fo anything. Well, of course, it pays to be prudent or something like that. I will check her out!

In any event, cameras are ready, batteries charged. The only downside is will there be an ocean of messy oil spill and dead fish along the way. That can ruin a beautiful day. Then I think of the thousands of lives that depend on this ocean to live and I forget the possibility of my one hour of discomfort.

Nothing left to say but Away We Go !

Chuck of Iloilo
 

A Senior Comes To Paradise Part X

I got up at 4;00 AM when the cocks are in full crow. The little blaggards have managed to adjust my circadian rhythm. I wonder if this could be a symptom of the Stockholm syndrome?

I had mentioned the old man who used to embellish his stories. When called on this, he said: "The naked truth jes ain't interessin'". It should be pointed out that the old fart had not seen a naked woman in fifty years.

But this day is stirring twitches of excitement. OK, OK, the twitches may be an exaggeration.. What do you expect? We are going to Bacolod ! This trip was planned when we (this is not a royal "WE", just Cher, Derek and myself) thought we needed to go on business. When that was no longer necessary, we decided to go anyway since I had met a lady online who appears genuine and who lives there. Besides she offered to
collect us in her car. This was an offer we couldn't refuse. I like it when people pick up on subtle hints.

Getting to the hovercraft for the 8:00 AM departure was no sweat. Madame Dureen (name changed) came early to administer medicine and boil the water for my bath. She was appalled that I did not want to breakast. I was planning breakfast in Bacolod.

Getting to the hovercraft may have been no sweat but getting on was another proposition. It has become common practice for my companions to move me about in my walker which is a strange contraption here. To make it even stranger, Cher has applied her creative brilliance to constructing a support for my feet when they are pushing me about.

I get a lot of attention and I'm smiling a lot especially at beautiful Filipinas who smile back. Oh, to be 70 again !!!

Back to the hovercraft, they set me aside until all passengers boarded and then two strong men helped me with the steps and gangplank. Low tide made this more challenging. I was exhausted. I can't speak for the two strong men.

The trip was calm and we did not see signs of the oil spill. We proceeded out Iloilo Strait (well, you did not expect Long Island Sound did you?) and rounded Guimaras. As we passed to the north of Guimaras Island, we came close to Siete Pacados, a series of seven small islands with the legend of seven sisters who went to a party in defiance of their parents and are now enshrined as a permanent reminder of the price of
disobedience.

When you think of the fact that there are 7107 islands in the Philippines, the criminal potential is mind boggling.

The greatest challenge occurred when we docked at Bacolod. I was helped (read – carried) across the gangplank to the dock where there were a half dozen or more steps too narrow for more than one person.

One brave helper risked falling into the water between the boat and dock to mount the steps outside the rail to assist me. They tried but it was necessary for me to muster the elusive little strength I had to negotiate those steps. It is extremely difficult for me to lift either foot 12 inches. Guess the interval of those
steps!! Never before have I had as much appreciation and sympathy for the plight of the physically
challenged. I made it. My walker was there and I plunked into it with great relief. This was the most exercise that I have had in 10 months. I will pay the price.

As Derek wheeled me into the parking area, a gentle hand touched me and a soft querulous voice said: "Chuck"??? It was Debra who was totally unprepared for a date with a disabled old man. She likes to dance and dance is her regular physical exercise. She had hoped to find a partner who danced but here is a date who can hardly walk. Life isn't fair.

Debra is a lady who must have been beautiful years ago and who has tried valiantly to preserve her looks. She is thin and physically fit and well turned out. She is a gentle lady, refined, soft spoken and intelligent, but not one to promote passionate encounters.

Can you blame her? The die was cast. We will be friends.

By the way, I did tell Flo about the trip. With incisive probing of a Clarence Darrow or Perry Mason, she extracted the whole story of my plan to meet Debra.

You know I really am too old for this soap opera stuff but it does get interessin'.

Stay tuned
Chuck in Iloilo
 

A Senior Comes to Paradise Part XI

This adventure is nothing if not a learning experience. For one thing, it can challenge all that you believed you know, shock you with all that you do not know, and startle you with all that you need to know.

So what's with this philosophy 101?
I am learning, especially about women. I find generalizations suspect, so comments that Filipinas are very jealous, I tend to dismiss, but I cannot dismiss the extreme example I found in Flo when I told her I was going to Bacolod and would be meeting Debra.
Who was it that told that lie about honesty being the best policy? Winston Churchill's book: "The
Gathering Storm" comes to mind.

Flo's mind with the speed of a super computer compiled all facts, real and imagined and in one second produced a comment chiseled from the polar ice cap. All my protestations that I had never met this lady and that there was no romantic connection, fell on deaf ears. Flo concluded that there would be an inevitable connection. Her icy comment: "Good luck". (hmmmm she could not possibly mean "get lucky"???) left no room for discussion.

It seems to me that this reaction may be generic female and not peculiar to Filipinas. Rex Harrison in the role of Professor Higgins in "My Fair Lady" sang "Why can't a woman be like a man?" A noble sentiment but let's not get carried away.

Flo's pretended selflessness did not fool me one bit. She finally admitted that she was jealous. She insisted that I tell her every detail of the visit. Hmmph, all evidence to the contrary, my momma did not give birth to a complete fool! So under the ice storm cloud of "good luck" we set out for Bacolod.

As we drove out of the port in Bacolod, we passed through fields of very tall grasses.

Derek explained that it is Cogon which is used for the roofs of Nipa huts. It is very good roofing material but is highly flammable. We drove down Lacsan(sp) Street, the longest street in Bacolod, its' unusual width was striking and traffic was light, giving the impression of a very clean and well ordered city.

The six lane street was graced with a center strip that had very unusual trees which Debra called "Indian Trees". I had never seen anything like them. They are tall and graceful with no branches. Their long leaves are compacted like soldiers standing at attention. Yet this tree is totally unlike India's national tree which is the banyan tree. I had a favorable first impression of the city. One interesting difference from Iloilo was the scarcity of Jeepneys. In Iloilo, it is quite common to come upon a line of Jeepneys a block long. In Bacolod, two in the same block was a rare sight, Admittedly, this astute observation is based on all of ten fleeting
minutes.

Debra had booked rooms at the L Fisher hotel, a modern, 15 year old convention hotel. The striated black marble floor lent an air of elegance. The rooms were well appointed with a queen size and single bed. The cost, 3006 pesos or USD $60.00 at a US $1.00 to 50.500 pesos. This is considered high in RP.

We stashed the bags and went to breakfast. It was not even 9:30 AM but we were the only customers. I ordered Belgian waffles and luckily I ordered yogurt. I was not prepared for the exciting tang of home made yogurt. It is so different from the store bought fruit flavored concoctions. I ate the entire hotel stock. How can I do this at home?

JJ where are you when I need you?

Cher insisted that I rest after my ordeal with the hovercrafrt and I did not object. Debra went home and joined us later for dinner. Again the dining room was sparsely populated. We actually imported Chinese food. That is when I polished off the remainder of the yogurt. Anything that good must be bad for you.

Initially, we planned to stay one night. However, I began to feel badly with angina attacks and nurse Cher decided we would not move. A restless night and persistent angina convinced Cher we should go to the hospital. I agreed. In the emergency room the doctor took one look at my ekg, and Xray and ordered my admission.

The Riverside hospital is a cut above the three hospitals I `bought' in Iloilo in terms of modern equipment. The beds were the first automatic beds I had seen in RP and were almost long enough for me. Cher who is fiercely proud of her training at St. Paul's hospital in Iloilo, immediately made some unfavorable comparisons related to staff performance.

Cher described the training at St Paul's as extremely strict. For seven years it ranked as the Center for Excellence in the Philippines. For one thing trainees were not permitted to sit during duty hours nor could they use the elevator.The trainees in Riverside received more lenient treatment. Cher detected a lack of friendliness of the staff. In fact, she had overheard a radio reporter interviewing in the emergency room about complaints against Riverside received at the radio station.

My pains had subsided. We were anxious to leave. Our trip had been extended to two days without the pleasure element we had anticipated. The hospital doctors consulted with my cardiologist in Iloilo by phone and finally agreed to a discharge if I signed a waiver to the effect that I was leaving against medical advice. That made me uncomfortable but I signed.

Anything to get out of that mustard yellow hospital gown.

Cher and Derek went to the hotel to arrange for a speedy departure. We hoped to get out of the hospital and catch the 2;30 hovercraft. Cher reasoned that I would be cared for by hospital nurses while they were at the hotel. She left instructions about medicine administration.

During their absence, the head nurse stormed into my room with all her command authority bristling a la the famous General Patton of WWII. She demanded to know where my caretakers had gone. Why weren't they there?

Furthermore, it was lunch time. (In RP missing a meal is a cardinal sin) I was terrified !!!

Could she and her cohorts force me to eat that food? The tray was sitting there and they kept asking questions.  Aren't you hungry? Actually, I was starving but at that point, I remembered the stalwart
examples of our Presidents: "I am not a crook" "Weapons of Mass Destruction" "I did NOT have sex with that woman" "Third rate burglary" ( well, that was true). I lied!!! Where is ACLU when I need them? Maybe the recourse is the Society for Prevention of Cruelty to Animals.

I shudder at the vision of hooded nurses with visions of Abu Graib dancing in their pointy heads descending on me with one of those ob/gyn instruments.

Call the Embassy I know my rights!!!

Chuck in Iloilo

 

A Senior Comes To Paradise Part XII

In Part XI, Cher, my private nurse, Derek and I went to Bacolod. This was my first pleasure trip off the island. The stress of boarding and debarking from the hovercraft resulted in unrelenting angina which put me into Riverside Hospital in Bacolod over night.

When Cher and Derek left me in the hospital to get us out of the hotel, the head nurse appeared in my
room with a crew demanding the whereabouts of my companions and threatening me with hospital food.

The story continues in Part XII

I was terrified that I would be forced to eat the food. In my lifetime, I have experienced many life threatening events e.g. during an uprising, an African soldier put a rifle to my temple with the promise to blow off my head. I was grateful that he did not keep his promise.

My vehicle nearly tumbled into Ngoro Ngoro crater (google Ngoro Ngoro) when an axle broke.

There was that near airplane crash In a remote wilderness.

And then I was chased by a herd of wild elephants!!!

None of these events caused the body shaking fright as the thought of those nurses force feeding me hospital food. Welllll those elephants did get my attention.They certainly did facilitate elimination.

I did some fast talking. Why else do you go to school? The nurses left me and the untouched food.I was saved.

Finally, Cher and Derek returned and I repeated the story. They brought food and then Cher noticed that the nurses had not followed her instructions about my medicine.

Now Cher is normally a happy, light spirit, moving or dancing to some inner music.

Every daddy who has a happy little girl can relate. She is a delightful little girl as long as you do not challenge her professional maturity. Any patronization, or challenge and this summer breeze of a girl becomes a gale force wind. And now the winds changed !
The sunny disposition clouded over and she stormed out of the room. I sensed that World War III could be in the offing so I took cover.

In fact, I took two covers. Through the closed door I could hear the muffled sounds of warfare and I prayed that we would escape. Finally, Cher returned mumbling. She had vented herself but the hospital struck back.

It was now 1:00 PM. We wanted to catch a 2:30 hovercraft. There are no flights between Iloilo and Bacolod. All we needed was the hospital bill so we could make our get away. The hospital said it would take one hour to print the bill !!!
This was at 1:00 which was the time that Debra had agreed to collect us and take us to the hotel to retrieve our luggage before going to the port. We never saw Debra again! Fortunately, Derek had a backup.

There was a young hustler at the hotel who had offered his services, Derek had explained our arrangement with Debra but did not dismiss him out of hand. When we finally did escape at 2:00, the hustler told us that Debra had been there dressed in a housecoat at 1:00. She could not find a parking space so she went home. This was true.

We made the 2:30. This time they loaded me and walker on the stern (" back" for landlubbers) with the luggage. It was easy because a gangplank could simply be laid across from the dock. Cher and Derek stayed with me and we were all happy because we were outside. I could take pictures.

The hovercraft is equipped with airplane seats configured four on either side in the cabin. There is an economy class and a first class. We paid 300 p ($6.00) each. The downside of our new outside location was the diesel mixed with garbage fumes that assaulted us. The ease of loading me and the location balanced out the bad smells. For one hour I would do it again.

The trip was not what we expected but it was valuable.

First, it reinforced the fact that all facilities in RP are not yet user friendly for the handicapped. Our planned trip to Boracay could present problems when getting on an off the boat by a plank. I do not favor walking the plank with a walker.

Secondly, I need more conditioning. A whole body transplant comes to mind.

Third, there is an unbelievable network at work here. Derek had texted his mom about my difficulty in accessing the hovercraft. By the time we left, there was a man on the dock to assist us all the way to Iloilo Cost – 30 pesos (35 cents give or take).
Arranged long distance by landlady. In addition, she has an inside contact with the director of Riverside
Hospital. Derek's mom, my landlady, has known or been related to someone in any crisis or situation which I have encountered. She is a devout catholic which is not uncommon here, but I hope her influence extends beyond planet earth.

Fourth, but not least, Bacolod is a lovely city and quite different from Iloilo. It is an example of a planned city as opposed to Iloilo which is an ancient city.

We arrived in Iloilo, having had unusual and unexpected experiences. I did learn some geography.

Iloilo is on Panay Island and is bordered on the east by the Guimaras Strait. Guimaras Island lies in the Strait between Panay Island and Negros Island.

Bacolod is on the west coast of Negros and directly across from Iloilo as the crow flies but there are no
crow passenger schedules yet.

We know now what challenges we will face if I wish to fulfill my dreams. But we know what resources we have available to us. We have seen new sights and met new friends.
We know our limitations. To quote Pogo "We has met the enemy and them is us."

Chuck in Iloilo
 

A Senior Comes To Paradise Part XIII

The first year anniversary of my arrival in the Philippines, is November 7th 2006 I ask: What have I discovered in just one year? Is one year sufficient to declare Paradise real or just my dream?

How does the reality compare to my dream?
I wonder how does my Paradise compare to the Paradise of others?
I also reflect on my unusual good luck. I did what I suspect few other 80 years old have done or are able to do.

Independently, I made a life changing decision and secured the support of my grown children. My decision was my decision. It is doubtful that my children would have made the same decision for me or for themselves. In the final analysis, right or wrong, I am doing it my way!

I dreamed of an island paradise of white sands, balmy breezes, blue skies and majestic mountains mirrored in crystal a rainbow coalition of fishes. all serving as a backdrop for beautiful golden bodies offering themselves to the sun. As idyllic and fanciful as this may sound, it is not far from the reality of the Philippine Paradise. I have not experienced it. But the dream is still alive.

If I have not experienced this dream, what have I experienced? I feel like the small boy who wants to go out to play but his parents will not let him because they have better things planned for him. I cannot start my roaming in search of those fanciful locations because of my health.

My health has confined me so my perception could focus on the reality of my environment. Another dimension of Paradise has been revealed to me. I have become aware of the true beauty of this country its' people and its' culture, a Paradise on this planet.

I have been exposed to exceptional loving care which exceeds anything I ever expected or could have experienced in the USA. I discovered what I really needed. I could have had the same health problems in the USA, but could I have had this same level of 24/7 unbelievably loving care and attention for a year?

If it exists, could I have afforded it?

From biblical times, the creationists' story reveals Adam and Eve, the first inhabitants of a Paradise were shacking up (no preacher) but then appeared Satan in the form of a snake.
There goes the neighborhood !! Property values immediately plummeted. Eve ate the apple, (could it have been a joint?) shared it with Adam, as any good mate would, and they were busted and evicted forthwith. (Now if DEA had only done its' job in the beginning, this story would be different) Thus our first homeless couple without birth control or safe sex.

The pattern for all times to come was thereby established. The kids of this family were the first delinquents, creating moral offenses like jealousy, incest, murder, theft for starters. No offense or disrespect intended. It is the story as I read it. My interpretation is the product of my warped mind. I am receptive to reliable correction based on historical accuracy.

Paradise today cannot completely escape the influence of history no matter what the source of that history. It is a history that has been planted in the human gene and passed on through all generations.

That is to say that Paradise is not and never has been perfect and oftentimes it is we who determine the dimensions of its' imperfection. Perhaps the saying that "beauty is in the eye of the beholder" Might be paraphrased to say: "Paradise is in the mind of the dreamer"

So, now we have settled that!
My perception of Paradise has been expanded beyond the superficialities of my dreams. I have come to a more profound level of perception. This Paradise too, has its' snakes and bad fruit but they will not spoil my Paradise unless I embrace them.

Now I do not dismiss the images of my early dreams, I now blend them with my new vision for an even deeper perception. I have come to the country but I have not seen the land, the white sand beaches,
the mountains mirrowed in the crystal clear waters, the shapely golden bodies gracing the beaches but I know they exist. I have come to the country and I have seen and felt the compassion, love and warmth as deep as the ocean.The great Roman general, Caesar who was word stingy said: "Veni, Vidi, Vici!" latin for:"I came, I saw, I conquered". I would paraphrase that to say: I came, I saw, I was conquered. In one year I have come to a Paradise greater than my dream.

Chuck of Iloilo
 

Re: A Senior Comes To Paradise Part XIII

Further, I forgot to mention, that I have always wished that my posts could be better. I am sure that some of my old English teachers might have improved on this.

Are you suggesting that I should use my several advanced degrees to be assured of credibility? I have deliberately refrained from mentioning that I have a JSD, Honorary Doctor Law, decorations, awards and miscellaneous honors because in accordance with your suggestion, I think that would inappropriate here and less than the humility you desire. I am sure you feel the same way. I am writing about my experience here not about my life. That is another story.

Chuck in Iloilo




A Senior Comes To Paradise Part XIV

We expats, we band of brothers and sisters, if I am allowed to say, are bound together by one common thread,

The Philippines.
As individuals, we have different perceptions, shaped by unique cultural and educational backgrounds, gender, ethnicity, age and personal experience. Paradise is in the mind of the dreamer.

I apologize for the rambling, stream of consciousness nature of this piece. I do not know how or even wish to improve on it. Octogenarians have certain freedoms and rights, I think.

We, from the western first world countries share certain common perceptions or dreams.
Many of us dream of living on white sand beaches, diving in crystal clear waters, marveling at curious little fish admiring the golden bikini clad bodies. If you haven't tried it, don't knock it.

The late U.S. Supreme Court Justice William O. Douglas was an avid fly fisherman. He wrote a fascinating book extolling his experiences finding and fishing virgin streams in the great Northwest. He was from the State of Washington. The book is "Of Men and Mountains".

 After reading that book,I dreamed of catching rainbow trout, cleaning and cooking it straight away. The imagined taste remains with me even though I am not a fisherman and I still think of a fly as a nasty little winged creature.

Cher, my nurse has a different dream. She dreams of getting a good nursing job in New York City so she can support her family, her parents and siblings. In her dream, New York City and her skills can provide financial stability for them. She wants nothing more. In this regard, I suspect she is a typical Filipina. The ultimate dream and therefore the realization of Paradise is in providing for the family. Theirs is sacrifice of the nearness of family and friends in order to help them. The thought of this ultimate selfless sacrifice
is close to the biblical proverb of "Greater love hath no man (woman) than that he(she) giveth his life for another".

My Paradise is shamelessly selfish. Before I came to the Philippines, I lived in a retirement community where I encountered many Filipinas. I was shocked when I learned of so many who had left husband and children behind to work overseas.This is a common practice.

My sacrifice was neglible in comparison. For a while I missed my Washington Redskin football GO SKINS! One day they will beat Dallas Cowboys. (another dream- it could happen). Now I don't even know the name of the quarterback. Sure, I miss my children and grandchildren but I seldom saw them when I lived in the States. With the modern magic of video communication, I am as close or even closer than I have ever been to them. As someone suggested, I could live anywhere in the world.

I could do a litany of things I miss or would like to have. But, come to think of it, I did a litany of desires when I was in the States. So it is a matter of choosing your favorite litany.

Life is about choices. Life is a matter of choosing one's ultimate good which I describe as Paradise. It is highly personal. One person's heaven is another person's hell.

Many of us have friends or relatives who are completely mystified that a normal human being would deliberately leave a first world country with all its' conveniences to move to a third world country. The American poet, Emily Dickinson had a reputation as a recluse.

She once wrote that she traveled widely in her backyard. She hardly ever ventured outside of her room but her fertile brain roamed the world.

Acquaintances were convinced of my loss of sanity when I jumped out of a perfectly good airplane at 82. Be patient with them. They have never experienced the Philippines. They have never known the physical and spiritual beauty that can be found here. Well, maybe some have and made a conscious decision to go home. That is understandable. The Philippines is not a "one size fits all" environment.

To be perfectly(as opposed to…?) honest, I would like to take my nurse and caregiver/companion to the States. I have traveled in 49 of the 50 States. It is a magnificent country.

I would like to visit an Apple store (computer- I'm a Macintosh freak) preferably in San Francisco. While there I would like to pig out at a good restaurant, Take a cable car to go to "Top of the Mark" once more or go next door to the pretentious Fairmont. Of course every tourist there goes to Fishermans' wharf. Is the submarine still there or did it go to Oakland? After a shop til you drop excursion, take the long flight back to my other Paradise. I never meant to imply that there was just one.

I have heard or read that Manila is like New York City. If there are interchangeable parts, I would like to visit but not live there. By the way did you know that many New Yorkers do not know how to drive?? Taxis and public transportation make driving unnecessary. I doubt that Manila could have theater like you find In New York. I would go to New York just for the theater.

Of course, I have done other things there like the Circle Tours, the ill-fated World Trade Center. Can Manila offer similar experiences? Of course, there is the wild and raunchy in both cities. (I read all about this). In the interest of expanding my life knowledge, I must check out the bar scene in Iloilo. I doubt that it is as exciting as that iin Manila or New York but do I really need that? Could be dangerous to my health. The tangy taste of home-cultured yoghurt is about as much excitement as old farts can handle. (speak for
yourself).

And "regularity" is better than sex ! Well, you just wait until you're 80 !!!!
You'll see !

We are planning to go to Boracay, the little island with world famous beaches. To paraphrase from Hebrew liturgy:: ". What makes this beach different from any other beach".

Beyond the stories of beach sand that is as white and soft as talcum powder plus beautifully clear water and vacationing movie and pop stars e.g. Michael Jackson, I think it may be a victim of commercial hype but I have not been there. I will check it out and report.

Going there is easier said than done. Derek and Cher who are Boracay veterans, know the special challenges that I would face. They are especially concerned about the necessity to walk a plank to get on and off the boat just because they have to help me walk from my computer to my bed. What wimps they are.

In consultation with my landlady, Derek's mother, they have come to the conclusion that hiring a helicopter is the best option, provided we can afford it. I would like it for the simple reason that I could video and photograph some spectacular scenery as we fly over (I fervently hope-over) the mountains. I am mindful of a friend, Garnett Zimmerly, who was killed when his plane flew into a mountain during a violent rainstorm. He was director of the USAID program for the Philippines.

Well the trip is not until the first week in November and number one son will be coming from California. Now all I need to do is find a way to get to Lourdes and the miracle cure.

I am concerned because November 7th is my anniversary date and there is the necessity to take the out of the country trip. Derek and Cher with whom I share my significant concerns, are remarkably unconcerned Filipino style. I have not reached that level of nirvana yet but I'm working on it

Chuck in Iloilo
 

A Senior Comes To Paradise Part XV

This morning I got up at 4:00AM (don't tell my nurse), my usual time. My nurse does not approve. The cocks have altered my circadian rhythm. This morning is different because when I got up there was an eerie silence.

There was not even the sound of the heavy rainfall from the typhoon that kissed us. The cocks did not start crowing iuntil 4:30. All this and global warming makes you think. I started writing anyway trying to
preserve normalcy, whatever that is, in my life.

I hang out in Yahoo Messenger from time to time because I am interested to see who contacts me and why and to have live contact with real friends.. Very occasionally, I run into an exceptional person. Yesterday I ran into an exceptionally evil woman. She did have a sense of humor. When she asked my age, I told her I am 84, her response was: "You're too young for me". That was the only chuckle of our encounter. After that the dialogue degenerated:
Lady: Have you eaten dinner
Chuck: Yes, have you?
Lady: I have no rice
Chuck: Too bad
Lady: I have no money to buy rice. Can you Help me?
Chuck: No, I cannot help you.
Lady; why?
Ed.note: that "why" almost stumps me
Chuck: I do not send money to people I don't know and I don't know you. Besides I don't have the money.
Lady: I need your help
Chuck: Sorry, I cannot help you. I am sure that there is some government or church help for you.
Lady; yaaaaaaaaaaaa
Chuck; where is your church
Lady: In the ocean
Chuck: What does that mean?
Lady: It is a joke
Ed note: both cams active
Lady: r u dying
Ed note: Now this question is unbelievable
Chuck: Yes, and so are you
Lady: noooooooooooooooo
Chuck:Yes, we all are dying
Lady: Go to hell

Ed. note: Now that is not nice. I am beginning to sense malice in this lady.

Lady: "When you are dead, your money will do you no good".

Ed note: Now I am sure this lady does not harbor warm friendly thoughts toward me but maybe I am being paranoid.
Lady: "your life is until now"

Ed. note: Now I am sure she is being unfriendly. Sounds like an old fashioned incantation (curse) to me. I am shaken in the face of overt hostility. Time to abandon this shi…p.

Ed note: During the exchange it was obvious that there was a helper out of sight. She admitted that a friend was helping her. One or both of them are in need of serious attitude adjustment. Sorry but this is beyond
my field of special competence.

So why hang out in this environment full of scammers and people who are looking for ways to extract money from you. Because, there is no better way to have extended live conversation with friends and relatives no matter where they are. I have a Chinese friend in Beiijing with whom I have had an extended platonic relationship. In fact, she is a prominent government official who has had me teach her English in the States on two occasions. I have another long time friend who is a computer guru with a company
that is doing very well. She is my source of sound computer advice as well as sparkling repartee.
And then there is a friend in a prominent small college in Pennsylvania who never understood why I moved to RP in the first place and thinks I had better get my butt back to USA. They are the reasons I will risk the bad encounters. And let's face it, this can be the source of cheap titillation.

How many will give up email because of all the spam, scam and wham? The world is a risky, dirty, dangerous place but how many of us want to leave it? 9/11 did not stop us from flying.

In this poverty infected country, one has to expect desperate acts from a desperate environment. At the same time, refuse to accept a burden which more properly belongs to government and non governmental charitable institutions.

So many of the "rich foreigners" react out of guilt which the scammers are adept at exploiting, that they, the "rich foreigner" have become a major resource for the seekers of easy money. This is a major problem for the expat. There is the scheming girlfriend or the scheming family. There is the problem of separating the genuine from the cheats. The trouble is that whether genuine or cheat, the need is real for each.

It is evident from the many posts seeking guidelines to help identify the honest whom they can feel comfortable in helping, that this is a major problem. Many points of reference have been posted. In the final analysis, who knows. The lady who never asks for help or who refuses to take money is one indicator but that does not mean that they are the only "good" girls. There are so many "good" girls who need as much if not more help than the "bad" girls. There is the dilemma.

I rely on the "don't ask" evidence. It is fairly reliable. The cheats have not caught on and tend to be aggressive. But be cautious because physical beauty is assigned to the "good" and the "bad". That is the cheese in the trap distraction.

Please understand. I came from a long line of preachers and when I was in catholic elementary school, the parish priest wanted to teach me latin so I could become a priest.

I never became a priest, thereby saving the church from years of discontent. The preacher gene asserts itself from time to time and this is one of those times.

Every Paradise, has snakes and bad fruit. So What !!!

Chuck in Iloilo
 

A Senior Comes To Paradise Part XVI

We old farts tend to be stubborn and hard headed. We have to be. It is all we have left. We are crotchety, loudly irritable and demanding. In other words, we have reverted to our second childhood and that is the way we establish and protect our identity. That is the way we proclaim our vanishing independence. We borrow from babies. We are in our second childhood. If you can deal with the drooling, the forgetfulness and the pampers, it is not a bad existence.

I have stubbornly resisted every negative event that would cause the average sensible person to throw in the towel here. Besides, I don't have any clean towels. The suggestions from friends to check it in as a noble experiment and return home to USA are resisted with jaw firmly set and eyes straight ahead. Even Flo before she became enamored pleaded with me to go home. She does not mention it now. I wonder why.


In private, I do wonder just what would it take to make me leave. What would be a deal breaker? My palate has not adjusted to the local cuisine, at least as prepared by my local cuisine maker. That won't do it. I have survived seven hospitalizations and four hospitals with their oh so pretty nurses (I just wish they would not giggle when they are sponging me) and beds too short. I am willing to risk more. So far I am living with
extraordinary amounts of medicines and their costs.

I am enduring this newly developed enfeebled state that requires constant assistance. I am old and stubborn.

The unpredictable brownouts, do try the patience but I fight back by going to sleep.

But wait!!! Don't you mess with my Macintosh computer!!!! And I MUST have DSL or fast connection. I would go stark raving mad (madder) with a dial-up connection. Now you are pushing me over the brink. No computer!?!?! I am outta here baby !

My Paradise does have certain basic requirements and computer cum camera cum internet connection are part of the equation. They are like breathing which one must do wherever, in prison, in church, at play or at work, asleep or awake, running or standing, riding or walking, breathing is an essential element of existence on this planet. My computers et al have almost the same degree of necessity. Oh yes, Somehow, I did live without them at one time in my life but I don't know how. I am awfully glad that I have lived until they were invented for me.

Some people have found it curious that someone my age would have developed an interest and some skill with the computer. It is not strange to me because everyone knows that children have no fear of the computer and can become quite good. The trouble is most people my age have had successful careers and have accomplished and achieved. They are afraid to expose a lack of skill or knowledge at this stage. Fear is the operative word.

Children are not afraid. I am not afraid because I am in my second childhood. Now, do you understand?

It is the bright people who have had secretaries that you have to drag kicking and screaming to the computer. Big important people feel they cannot afford to be less than big and important. They view computer work as secretary work. The not so big and important are afflicted with fear as well. They are afraid they will destroy this magical machine if they touch it. So why am I not afraid. The answer is very simple. I am in my second childhood. Children are only afraid of practicalities like the dark, under the
bed, thunderstorms and things that go bump in the night. They are not afraid of stupid machines.

Money would be nice to have but since I never really had any, I have lived without it.

Operating expenses are necessary. I do need shelter, although I have slept on a park bench, food would be nice, but I have nearly starved to death (according to the doctors), human companionship is desirable although I have lived alone many years after divesting 2 wives. I do fancy the female gender although I remember the very special connection of male bonding during the war years.

I did not come to the Philippines expecting that I would find romance but it found me.
What a surprise. Someone said "Play the hand that is dealt you. So I will play this hand, if I can remember the cards.

So what distinguishes those that do and those that don't. Why would one old codger change his life and another will not. These are both good men but I believe the one element that influences the ones that don't is fear. There is fear of change., fear of the unknown, fear of the risk.

This should not be condemned out of hand because survival is a root instinct. One does not improve one's chances for survival by taking unnecessary risks. On the other hand, it is the risk takers, the dare devils, the fearless or at least those who do in spite of the fear, who make the discoveries and advance the species. Sometime they pay the ultimate price for their fearless adventures. It takes all kinds. We need them all if we are to grow and survive.

I am mindful of the risks in coming to the Philippines.. but my dream was supported by my research. I was warned of the extreme heat which is not recommended for the elderly. I listened to the warnings and reminded my friends that I had lived in Thailand, and Washington, DC.

I had played tennis in Niger when it was 104 fahreneit in the shade. (I neglected to say that I had a heart attack as a result.) I no longer play tennis in any temperature. I had no fear because I had survived extreme temperatures and I said so. Ot course the counter was always: " you were much younger then" I cannot deny that because "THEN" is always younger. I have to live my life NOW not THEN.

Some may suspect that I have become blinded by my dreams wearing rose colored glasses. My glasses have a tint but not enough to hide reality.

There is always the risk of incompatible customs and the environment of a strange and conflicting culture. I had the advantage of having lived in Third World Countries and survived. So I had no fear. Besides the apparent attractions outweighed the concerns. It is not necessary that one be in one's second childhood but it sure helps.

Chuck in Iloilo
 

A Senior Comes To Paradise Part XVII

I do like the priviliges of First World Living. I do not want to fool you. So why am I in a Third World Country? I thought I had answered this question previously but on reflection, there is something else at work. There is a phenomenon that is subtly working its' way into our lives. We hear the word from time to time but we tend to relegate it to the back pages of our minds along with the classified ads. It is globalization.

Aren't we taking this newspaper word for granted? Isn't "globalization" becoming more and more a part of our personal lives? I was startled by the realization that I am a closet product of the globalization influence.

It then makes more sense if less drama that I should elect to make such a radical move. I have been globalized! This started in 1948 while in college when I took my first trip abroad. I participated in one of the earliest such ventures after WWII. It was a study tour for credit entitled "The Marshall Plan In Action". The trip involved a few hundred students from colleges around the US including Stanford, NYU, Harvard, and my own, Middlebury College. We traveled on an old Dutch freighter, the "Tabinta" from Quebec
dodging icebergs in the North Atlantic. We had lectures on board when we weren't seasick. We
heard lectures in each of the western European universities. In Paris at Cite Universitaire, a "One World" chap quietly ate in the dining hall with the rest of the retarded world.

We saw the ravages of war in all the lowland countries and in Germany. In Cologne, the square in front of the beautiful cathedral had the only electric lights in the city, a string of bare bulbs suspended from wires. The cathedral which had some war damage was celebrating its' 700th anniversary. The rest of the city was a massive rubble heap with bodies entombed. The economies of all Europe were rubble as well and it became apparent that only through massive assistance from the United States could there be recovery.

Hence the Marshall Plan, probably the most significant constructive global intervention of all time.

America's finest hour to paraphrase Winston Churchill.

That started my outlook. As the years passed, and I announced to my wife and mother-in-law my decision that we were going to Africa. (don't ever do this at home), I was already hooked. It took a while for me to realize that psychologically, I am more like the `one world' people except I would never ever give up my US passport. Another realization dawned upon me. I have no place that holds that strong sentimental attachment that we call `home'.

I grew up in Philadelphia, the "City of Brotherly Love". Speaking personally, I prefer sisters.
The city of my youth no longer exists. The old Chinese wall carrying incoming trains along market street to Broad Street station was taken down years ago. The ghetto neighborhood of my first school has been gentrified so long ago that it may need redevelopment. The waterfront has been salvaged from its' gloomy warehouse shadow. Billy Penn is no longer the biggest boy on the block by law and I can no longer go up to his hat to overlook the city.

The fascinating Horn & Hardart Automat where one could fill the belly for less than a dollar has disappeared and with it the very best cheese pie ever devised on planet earth.

On my first date, I took a girl to the automat. I never had another date with her or anyone else for that matter.

I am not saying that these changes are the most significant reason for my disaffection which resulted in my coming to the Philippines. I am saying that all the events and experiences from childhood on combine in mysterious ways to contribute to the decisions we make. How often have lawyers pleaded the negative influences of childhood as a defense for their clients.

I am saying that my decision to come here is not as simple as I may have alleged. I cannot speak for anyone else but I will anyway. All of you expats have become globalized meaning you are prepared to live anywhere in the world even though you maintain memory ties to your home country. Some of you are trying to cut those ties for your personal reasons. All of you believe/hope that your life will be improved. I
have alleged that I am "outsourcing" my quality of life. I'm also saying that now I and others are more
psychologically prepared to do this than would have been the case years ago, say in the 1930s.

Well, the actualization of my globalization May have started then but it really had rooted much earlier.

I took root when I was four years old. By order of the court I became a ward of the court. I know because years later I found the order in musty old courthouse records. No one has ever explained it to me. I have no memory of a father and only a shadowy memory that could be my mother. I ended up in foster homes.

There was more than one and the snapshot memories are not always pleasant. I will not recount them all here because I have digressed too much already.

When I was six years old, my mother's oldest sister came to the foster home to collect me in an automobile. It was my first ride in a car. I was very happy riding and sightseeing especially since my aunt and a cousin with her were so quiet.

After an hour, the car stopped at a church. We entered to a full house and went straight to the front where there was a casket. There was a body in the casket. Instinctively I knew it was my mother !! No one told me then or even afterwards that my mother died. She was 24.

I think I may have started my trip to Paradise then.

Chuck in Iloilo
 

A Senior Comes To Paradise Part XVIII

This morning I once again arose at 4:00 AM (don't tell my nurse). The cocks are faithful to their crowing but this morning I have adopted a new anti-cock approach. I played the dulcet tones of the Brandenburg concertos followed by Beethoven's 3rd symphony.

The cocks have no chromatic crackle response to that and I settle into blissful satisfaction contemplating this awesome genius filling my ears. The cocks can't touch it.

Then I think of the importance of being ordinary. If we all had the genius of Beethoven, or Mozart, Da Vinci, Michelangelo, Einstein. Quincy Jones, Duke Ellington, who would there be to listen? Now who would not want a little touch of genius (hold the madness)? It would be no fun if everyone was fondled by the same fickle finger of fate. If we were all rich like Bill Gates' houseboy how would our nobler instincts of philanthropy emerge?

Where would the World Cup be without the millions of crazy wild fans around the world?

Could Billy Graham be such a great preacher without preachees-or Martin Luther King or Pope John
Paul? Without us there would be no world or there would be one that I would not want to live in. There would be no sources of inspiration and admiration. There would be no reason to strive for excellence. Think about it.

Let us celebrate ordinary man and woman because it is they who make the extraordinary possible. Without the ordinary there would be no extraordinary. It is the common person who defines the uncommon The rich would no longer exist if there were no poor (I could live with that). Could the tall be if there were no short?. Without summer there would be no marvelous fall for JJ and likes of us. What great memories And oh, that apple cider!!.

Thanks for that memory.

So what is this all about? This is a discussion of the ecology of a planet with differences. The differences are necessary. Without Third World Countries there would be no First World Countries. Without dark --- carry on, you know the rest. Yes, believe it or not I am awake - I think Saturday, October 7th

Again a very early morning up and at the desk hoping that seeds of inspiration are lurking there ready to implant themselves onto the uncultivated soil of my brain.

Sometimes the fingers find the seeds but I never can tell when it will happen. I just put fingers to the
keyboard which is equivalent to crossing my fingers but hoping that the thoughts will not be crossed.

I have added a new element, I start quietly playing classical music hoping this will cause the seeds to sprout. Sometimes it works. Tchaikovsti's 1812 Overture is playing now but it may be over the top. The cannons are firing. The cocks have awakened but they cannot compete.

Maybe the incessant rhythym of Ravel's Bolero will awaken some dormant seeds but then my mind wanders and I think of the Movie "10 and Bo Derek". There is a certain hypnotic power to this music. The question is can it be harnessed to empower or will it simply narcotize an already sleepy brain. Mentally my mind has succumbed to the hypnotic beat. (There are those who would claim that it succumbed years ago). For some reason I think of Lawrence of Arabia and the desert.

I wrench my mind back to the present and think of our plans to go to Boracay and the special challenges that face us. Boracay is a small island off the west coast of Panay island. Iloilo is on the east coast. It has a world famous beach of talcum powder white sand which attracts tourists from around the worldand crystal clear water. I hear that the commercial population equals the sand pebbles. To get there we would travel by
land three to five hours (depending on who is driving. In either case I m praying!!) and then take the pump boat across. There's the rub!

Cher and Derek are planning on an exploratory visit beforehand even though they have been there numerous times. Hmmmmm. (Bolero getting loud now) They will check the availability of oxygen and emergency service. We are mindful of Bacolod. I hate being such a pain, literally and figuratively. The "hate" is literal but the pain is both. Derek's dad is part of the administration of the resort. He may give us
(read ME) a discount. As the old lady said when she squatted over the Mississippi: "Every little bit he'ps".

So, what is the problem? It is the walking of the plank to get on and off the boat !!! I can hardly walk to my front door without assistance. I hope they don't blindfold me.

We thought about finding a helicopter service but that would be prohibitively expensive because it would have to come from Cebu or Manila. Bill Gates where are you when I need you?!? Now if he would lend me a helicopter, I might even buy a `Windows' running PC.

The operative word is "might". Perhaps I should change that to a definite "will". I think I am safe in saying that. He would not have the nerve. Consider that a challenge Bill Gates!! I double dare you! I will give good odds that BG is too chicken to take this dare!!! Besides I am many things but I am not a tax advantage.

My entourage has grown. Sometimes I am tempted to worry. Well, you would too if your kidney doctor volunteers to join your vacation with two of her dialisys technicians. On the other hand, this is the Philippines and these things happen apparently.

Of course Cher and Derek are automatically included and number one son will be coming from the US.
It is ironic that this all started when I planned to marry in Boracay on the 8th of November, the day after the anniversary of my arrival here. We are keeping all the plans except the wedding. Flo will not be joining us.
(Bolero beats on- Pum da da Pum da da.)

Since November 7th is the anniversary of my arrival in PI, the out of the country trip has to be considered. The doctor wants to give me a medical waiver which I have to accept now. (time to change mood from Ravel to Stanley Jordan's dulcet guitar), But I would really like to take Cher and Derek out of country for the experience. Hong Kong which I have not seen since my boys were sub teens, comes to mind. So much has changed. A tunnel under the bay now. A new airport. No longer flying so low that you can see people