Live Like a King in the Philippines!

OK, you look at the title of this article, and you think “What is this guy selling?” or “What is he smoking?” Truth is, at age 57, I never expected to live like a king. No offense to my peeps back home (and I have no idea what a peep is, except that is the sound these little chicks following their mother hen make around here) back in the States, there is no way I would be living like a king back in America unless I was Bill Gates or one of the Wal-Mart heirs. It just would not be happening. I would still be at my mind-numbing job at the phone company bored to death and watching the clock. But here I am in the Philippines just over a scant three months, and I am already living like a king.

Dave, or Bonehead (take your pick, they are interchangeable in my case), you may ask, how can you make such a bold statement? How can one live like a king in the Philippines? Well, let me first make one distinction. I don’t call myself a king although my Sainted Patient Wife told me last week that I was a KING! Now you guys out there married to a beautiful Filipina like I am, have probably already heard that from your asawa countless times. And you guys reading this living in America married to a wonderful American lady (as I once was during my brief nine and ½ month first marriage over 20 years ago) have NEVER heard it. No offense to you terrific American ladies, and please note I am 7000 miles away living in a python-infested jungle filled with thousands of huge spiders big enough to stop a Mack truck. And with huge bugs swarming around that will knock you out in a heartbeat if one smacks you in the face. And don’t forget the lizards. Don’t get me started on the lizards!

So I stopped to think what my asawa said, which in itself was rare because I usually don’t remember what she tells me unless it pertains to breakfast, lunch, or dinner, or snacks, or she needs some pesos to buy something. I do live like a king here. We support eight people in our household on around 500 USD a month, and we live pretty comfortable. We have a laundry lady we pay 1000 pesos a month, and a maid which we overpay at 2500 pesos a month (but she is my sister-in-law.) The house and property we live on is bought and paid for years ago by my wife when she worked overseas for years in Singapore and Taiwan as an OCW (old school term for Overseas Contract Worker) and now is called OFW (Overseas Filipino Worker.)  Everyone waits on me hand and foot here. I don’t ask for it, they just do it. Even my mother-in-law, The Feared Giant Lizard Killer with the big bolo, likes me. I’ve got it made, and I know it.

Could you live like a king somewhere else? Probably, but let me see, I am surrounded by beautiful tropical beaches and beautiful Filipinas (that I do not stare at when my wife is with me, but you cannot help but notice them), warm temperatures year round, no snow to shovel, no job to go to, friendly people (including my wife), and a lot less stress. Back home in the States I had to help with the laundry, clean my own bathroom, cook my own meals half the time, and go to work. Let me see, United States or the Philippines? Work, or here we go again, live like a king in the Philippines. But wait a minute, my Sainted Patient Wife just walked by, and I told her what I was writing about. She laughs and says to me: “I said you act like a king around here; I didn’t say you are a king.” Shoot! Had her living in America too long! I’ve just been dethroned!

Crossing madness

Having had the “controlled” traffic rules in the UK all my life, it thus was a shock and half when I first cam to Asia and experienced the NO RULES system. My first stop in Bangkok made me realize London was a controlled traffic flow, and even though had its traffic lights and horns blowing all the time it just does not even match the rules of engagement here in the Philippines.

Now there have been many articles on traffic here, but this time I thought I would write it from the pedestrian of non Pinoy decent, that have to learn to do the Olympic games from pole vaulting over cars that come straight at you, to theb  800m hurdles, where you get chased and have to jump over other pedestrians who are slower than you, no tiome to pass the Baton here. Back in the UK we have a Zebra crossing system that if automated stops the  traffic so you can pass over without thinking you are in the FINAL DESTINATION, and here too in the last few weeks a brand new crossing has appeared, but the rules are a mystery to me.

First of all during it being made the traffic just went up on the sidewalk and scattered the pedestrians in all directions, but it was OK as it was overseen by traffic cops, so we were all in safe hands there.

The first morning of the new crossing, a crossing which is always busy with lane hopping cars,bikes and Jeepney all trying to swerve in front of another vehicle, or stop dead in front of another as to enjoy hundreds of brake lights coming on with the noise of horns to follow. Which incidentally everyone ignores the horns as they are going all the time, so are not classed as anything else but normal traffic noise.Anyway back to the first morning, and several traffic cops were ensuring that us pedestrians did NOT cross the road unless we used the new crossing, and that was great I thought, even when I saw some people who disobeyed getting tickets from the police,pedestrians not drivers.

Then I noticed that the cars shot past you even if you were half way through the crossing, and you still had to keep an eye out for a kamikaze driver who was not going to slow down for a crossing. Funny thing is that these drivers were so quick the police were not able to see them but could see the pedestrians dancing on the crossing trying to avoid the metal. The police just kept calling the pedestrians over.

Well day one teething problems I’m sure. Day two  and the Police have gone so its up to the public to deal with this new format without help. Now the pedestrians try hard to put one foot on the crossing followed by second, but by this time the cras are rocking past them and they have to step back waiting for the never going to happen gap in the traffic.Now I was a little angry over this but being a foreigner I had to try and obey the rules so after a long wait, a long long wait I managed to get on the crossing  with the inevitable horns going from the super powered jeepneys hurtling towards me, and through guts and determination I made it to the halfway point. Some astonished locals were looking at me in amazement, why is he using the crossing? Just play chicken like the rest of us.

Nope, I wanted this to work (Not really sure why), but I was in trouble stuck in no mans land,with cars and jeepneys full of wide eyes looking at this stupid man stuck in the middle of the road.

After a few false tries, I just waited and to my utter astonishment the Jeepneys one by one parked ON the crossing to let people get on and off, and others queued behind. People were getting off on the crossing!!
Now I have metal machines and human beings preventing me from crossing, it makes no sense to me at all.

Over the next few days the road is back to normal, and no one uses the crossing and I play the game of Chicken. I just hope my old legs don’t let me down in the future, or I will be up close and personal with a Jeepney.

Coming to grips with Philippine languages

This is my weekly column that appears in SunStar Davao every Friday.  I am publishing a copy of it here for LiP readers to enjoy too.  Much of this information has been covered in my many previous LiP articles on the subject of Language, but perhaps this has a bit of a different angle that you will enjoy.

In my article a couple weeks ago, I told you that I have been studying and learning how to speak Bisaya.  I started learning the language a little over 2 years ago, despite the fact that I have lived here for nearly 10 years.  When I first moved here, in 2000, I figured that I could get by with only knowing English, since almost all Filipinos speak English as a secondary language.

Living here for a while, though, I started realizing how much I was missing out on by not being able to speak the local language (or should I say, “one of the local languages”).  When people specifically wanted to address me, of course they would speak to me in English.  However, when there was a group of people, the language would often shift to Tagalog or Bisaya, unless a comment was directed toward me in particular.  It left me uncomfortable, and feeling like I was not fully part of the conversation.

One day, some Americans were visiting me at my house.  They were not residents of the Philippines, only visitors.  They mentioned the old thing that so many Americans always say…

Immigrants coming to America are rude because they don’t learn English!

Oops!  Suddenly it hit me.  I am an Immigrant to the Philippines, but I have not learned the local language.  I decided that I needed to do something about it.

My first decision was a tough one, though.  What language should I learn?  Tagalog is the National Language.  My wife, and her family, though, mostly speak Bisaya amongst themselves.  Most of the “common people” around the area seem to speak Bisaya, although certainly not all.

Well, I decided that since I don’t live in Manila, or anywhere “up north” that I should go for Bisaya.  So, my language learning journey began.  I went through a few different teachers before I found the one that was right for me.

Being able to speak Bisaya (not perfect, but I can do pretty well), has opened a lot of doors for me, especially among my wife’s family.  Some of my relatives on my wife’s side don’t even speak English, or very little at least.  My mother-in-law, before she passed away, could not speak much English, only a few words.  Mama and I had a nice relationship, but could never directly speak to each other!  Once I learned enough Bisaya to hold a conversation, a lot of the relatives became much closer, and I enjoyed it a lot.

Still, though, sometimes I still feel “left out” of conversations, though.  Why?  Because I am among Tagalog speakers sometimes, and I can’t speak Tagalog!  Knowing Bisaya helps me to understand a bit of Tagalog, but not enough to participate in the conversation, though.  So, now I am starting to think that maybe I need to learn Tagalog too!  I just don’t know, though.

For an American, learning a second or third language is not common.  You know what a person who can speak two languages is called, right?  Bilingual, of course.  A person who can speak more than 2 languages is called multilingual.  You know what a person who can only speak one language is called?  American!  Ha ha…

When it comes to the ability to speak multiple languages, Filipinos are certainly way ahead of us Americans!

Reminiscing about something I never did

I had an interesting day yesterday.  I spent much of the day working on different projects that I have going right now.  Pretty much every one of those projects is work related – things that will earn me money.  Every one of the projects involves the Internet too.  Oh, I didn’t work all day long, though, I did other things too.  I talked to my Mom on the phone, which is sort of a daily thing.  I like to stay in touch with her, and hear how she is doing.  It’s been a couple of years since I’ve seen her, but with my Vonage Internet telephone, I can talk to her and it sounds like she is just down the street.

The other night, I had two friends over for dinner.  One of the people that came for dinner is a Filipino, whom I met over the Internet about 15 years ago, and he is a close friend.  The other person who came to dinner is a foreigner who recently moved to Davao.  I met him because he was a long time reader of LiP.

Have you noticed a trend in what I wrote above?  Well, the common denominator is that all of these things are possible because of technology.  Internet technology mostly.

I have lived in the Philippines for more than 9 years as I write this… almost 10 years.  It’s a long time to live in the Philippines, but I certainly know many expats who have lived here much longer.  One person that I know has lived in the Philippines for nearly 45 years now!  He is American.  I can hardly imagine what it would be like to live here for nearly half a century!  Even though I have no plans of ever going back to the States, I will probably never reach an age that would have me living here for 50 years!  I can’t even imagine what it would have been like to have lived here 50 years ago.  I have another close friend who has been here for about 25 years now, and still going strong.  So, as you can see, I’m just a short timer.

The first time I came to the Philippines was nearly 20 years ago, in 1990.  Back then, I visited Manila, Cebu and General Santos City.  General Santos was just a backwater town in those days.  Many of the roads were dirt roads in the town.  The town was very dusty, like the wild west.  If you hung around town, you could see horses in the streets.  That was only 20 years ago.  Imagine what it was like 50 years ago!

Anyway, getting back to my “tech” life here in the Philippines, the day I described at the beginning of this article is actually quite typical.  Some days my life even involves much more technology than that.  Certainly, such a life was not even available in your wildest dreams 20 or 50 years ago.  How would anybody be able to live here during those days?  I know, the truth is that the kind of tech I am talking about wasn’t available anywhere 50 years ago.

Being able to just pick up a telephone receiver and dial my Mom or my friends in the States, and not have to pay anything above the basic flat rate monthly bill is astounding.  It has gotten to the point where we can live basically anywhere in the world, and be able to cheaply and reliably keep in touch with any other part of the world.  It makes like more pleasurable, I think.

As I think about this, it also makes me wonder what people will be saying in 20 more years… I am sure they will look back at the year 2009 and imagine how we could have possibly lived without all the “2030 gizmos” that will be available.

I don’t think I could have lived here in the 1960, or even 1990.  I sure enjoy the lifestyle that technology in 2009 makes possible for me, though.

Going Home

Going Home. When you are working overseas, these words are always the best that you can possibly think of…to an expat working abroad, this sounds really good. Home is something that you look forward to. Whether you are going home because you have finished your contract, your annual leave is due, your company ran out of projects and you are one of the unfortunates that is being laid off, you were wrongly accused, you got into some form of mischief and your boss can’t let go, you are forced to leave because you are being maltreated, your employer can’t issue you a residence visa because you did not pass the medical test, one of your family members back home passed away, or a lot more reasons to go home, these words still sound good.
Life overseas is not always like a bed of roses. Yes, maybe to those who are lucky to land a better paying job, but even then, you can forget about your hardships once you are booked to go home. To those who are unfortunate… Well, you can still say ‘there will be another chance’.

I still remember whenever I was onboard a plane bound for home… it is always as the same like the other times. When the plane starts to hover over Manila International Airport, you can hear people clap and shouts ‘KABAYAN NANDITO NA TAYO!!” Oh! The shouts that you can hear when you feel the plane’s tires touch the ground. The scene inside an arriving plane is somewhat chaotic. Some fellows couldn’t help themselves. Amidst the noise, the voice of the stewardess is on the intercom telling everyone to remain seated blah, blah, blah… Some are already standing itching to open the overhead compartments for their belongings. Gone was the subdued atmosphere after boarding. Even the lady who was seated and huddled on my left is also consumed… she broke into a smile. The one seated next to the aisle who was silently crying when we left Abu Dhabi is fumbling to unfasten her seatbelt. The baby who was cradled by an elderly lady that is probably his grandma started to cry. Maybe his parents could not issue him a residence visa because they lack some of the requirements to do so. One lady on the front seat is already retouching her makeup. The lady beside her is telling the guy next to her to help her with her baggage, and they could perhaps share a taxi ride home. A guy who seems to be intoxicated with the freebies on board is muttering something. In those early days, mobile phones were still considered a luxury… No yelling at people to turn them off as the plane is about to land, but everyone is fumbling with calling cards so they can call home as soon as we land. Now, everyone turns on their mobile before we’ve even landed yet.

You can never miss this when you happen to be onboard a plane coming from the Middle East. Foreigners who happen to be on that plane, if it’s their first time to visit Philippines, sit in awe. What was in their minds, one never knew. After all, we ‘Pinoys’ are a happy lot. Some guys at the back began another round of applause. You can tell that they’ve come from Saudi Arabia. Some of them are wearing chunky gold chains, rings and earrings. Sometimes, members of a musical band do the same, only they accessorise themselves with heavy silver, and they always wear bandanas and arm bands.

The noise put my thoughts to an end. I mean, I was mentally noting the contents of the 60kg cargo box lying in the plane hold……… To whom would the packet of Pantene shampoo go to. The pack of Lux soap. Tubes of Colgate toothpaste, Jergens lotion, and the AED 10 each bottles of perfumes that the Indian neighbour had peddled… etc., etc. Of course, I did not forget my mother’s big tubs of Nescafe, linens, and cutlery items. I can imagine my mother’s face when she sees her Galaxy chocolates that are in one of those duty free bags in the overhead compartment. She prefers them to a Toblerone because it kind of melts in her mouth….For the love of God! She refuses to have dentures done. I also bought a “buy two, get one free” bottle of Johnny Walker, and a bottle of Remy Martin, plus Absolute vodka for brothers and cousins who are waiting for over a year to have some.

One can imagine how I managed to carry all these bags past the passport control to the trolley line. You can really feel as if your arm is being ripped off because the bags were just too heavy. It’s a good thing you are not paying for the trolley service anymore. Of days old, you had to pay a dollar so you could avail yourself of one. Yeah… You blew off your month’s pay to buy goody- goodies because it is expected that you’d be going home with ‘pasalubongs’ for everyone.

Having to wait near the baggage conveyor, you have to watch your carry-ons. Hilarious as it may seem, I even put my hard-earned money inside my socks. Now don’t get me wrong. I just don’t want to go home empty handed. I did that until one of my dollar bills got squashed and wet because I have clammy feet and hands whenever I am nervous. That was when I came home from Kuwait in 1983 and my early years in Abu Dhabi. Tales of fellow OFWs got me scared because some of them got mugged, even just arriving, right outside the airport. I switched to pocketing my money in my front jean pocket and securing it with a pin. I just leave enough for my taxi fare and bus fare, plus a little extra, if something arises, in my wallet. I still remember changing my dollar bills to pesos before heading to the province. My friend and I used to go to Mabini, or Padre Faura, to those money changers. Some of them still exist. A 10 cent difference to a dollar means a lot. Those days the rate was 20-25 pesos to a dollar. Nowadays, there are a lot of easy and convenient ways to send money. There’s the Kwarta Padala, Money Gram, Western Union, and bank to bank transfers. We cannot send through the latter… Abulug is a town in the north that doesn’t have a bank. The nearest bank is in Aparri and Luna, Kalinga Apayao. I used to send through an exchange centre in Abu Dhabi and my mother could just collect it in the nearby town of Ballesteros.

Transport is another problem. If you don’t have relatives in Manila who are affluent enough to own a Sometimes if my best friend, who owns a recruitment agency, happens to be there, I can have a free ride… but it means a day less from my leave. I used to complain about having two week’s vacation every two years instead of a whole month, but then, it sometimes has its’ advantages. I can keep myself from being bored. I was still unmarried then. A week of going here and there is enough, if you live in the province. There are no malls that you can go to in order to while away your time. My friends can’t go out with me if I want to go places, since they are already married with kids. And of course, I still have some amount left for a bus ride to Manila (wink wink………. you can ask any balikbayan how easy it is to spend your leave pay and savings whenever you’re here in the Philippines). Sometimes you don’t even have money left for a bus ride to the airport… you will borrow, to be paid back as soon as you get paid. Vicious cycle, I must say… But it’s all worth it. Nothing can beat that feeling when you see your family smile the moment you walk in that door. They may not say a lot, but you can feel their joy and happiness in that brief period you are staying and you know that when you are gone, they are gonna miss you again.

Fast forward to 2007… I’m going home with the usual baggage plus one. I mean my fiancée is accompanying me home. He had proposed marriage and I told him that he has to come with me to see how we lived in the Philippines. Although there’s an option to travel by air to Tuguegarao, we boarded a Florida bus en route to Ballesteros. Luckily my then fiancée slept through, up until Tuguegarao… my mother was dumfounded, and so was everyone else, when I told them that John is younger than me by four years. Again, don’t get me wrong. It’s not common for a foreigner to fall for one older than they are. Maybe then, what he felt, was true love. Our vacation went well, and he met my elders and other relatives. We went back to Abu Dhabi, and there we began to plan that we would move back to the Philippines… for good.

Home sweet home it is… after 14 months, we were married up in Abulug. I thought it was just so easy being finally home… but having to live that long outside the Philippines, I was in for a shock.
This does not end my story. My next posting will be about my struggles to adjust. I hope you guys will stay tuned, and ……. tata, for now.

“Why is it that way?”

Jeepneys: Why is it that all the passengers will insist on handing the driver the fare, while the driver is in the middle of a hairpin turn at forty miles an hour? Is it some form of test? Also, why can’t the next two boarding passengers stand beside each other, so the driver does not have to drive the next 15 feet to pick up the second one?

Also, just for fun, ask the capacity of a Jeepney? The heads will be scratched, and the thinking begun. Then the answers will flow; 16-18-ect. Just explain that all the answers are wrong. For the true capacity is “ONE MORE” which is the same for Trikes and buses.

Trike Drivers: Why do they pull up beside you, to offer a ride after they just saw you exit your car?

Street Vendors: What would make them feel that a “Blowgun” is just what you need today? They sell pork at the market and I don’t hunt wild pigs in the Rain Forest. Or the guy behind the blue boxes at the market, where he will repair a Presidential Rolex Watch, If I had one I sure would not bring it to him, for service.

Sports: Why is Basketball the number one sport here in the P.I.? Central and South America figured out they were not tall enough to join the “NBA” and decided Baseball was the way to go! It could be the cost of equipment, a basketball and slippers and a hoop on a tree is cheaper than gloves, bats, balls and the land required to play.

Sari-Sari Stores: Does the law require that there be one every fifty feet? I think the law does require that they all must sell exactly the same items, which will cause me much confusion picking the one I should go to. (Coldest beer works for me!) Also, they open at 7am yet by 9am they still can’t change a 20 peso bill. I wish I let my wife open one.

Dealing with Local Government: When applying for my resident visa to stay here I was provided a list of all paperwork and documents I was to present to Immigration in Manila. When I applied I was asked to provide 4 more documents which were not on the list provided. Like a foolish man I questioned why they were not listed on the paper their office provided me? That caused some major head scratching and a few shrugs of shoulders and was told to get the documents if I wanted to proceed.

Then last April 2009, I went to Subic Freeport for the Embassy Outreach visit to apply for my Social Security benefits. I arrived at 07:30, signed up, yakked with some friends, was seated at 08:00 called to see an Embassy Rep. by 08:05 and was on my way to breakfast by 08:25 as I had provided all required document from their list. The Lady from the Embassy was helpful, smart, and very friendly. While eating breakfast my wife pointed out that she was shocked to see any dealing with a government official could be so fast and smooth. I just smiled.

So… I will continue my search for answers to these and everything else that perplexes me! (Which is quite a lot?) It’s the small price we pay for choosing to live here in paradise!

P.S. This was written in pure fun, and I alone, am responsible for its content.

Cultural Adjustment

Since it’s Friday, today I’m featuring my column from SunStar Davao Newspaper.  While my LiP Web Magazine is targeted toward foreigner readers who have an interest in visiting or living in the Philippines, my newspaper column is targeted at Filipino readers and trying to foster more understanding toward foreigners who are here.  Because of this, you may notice that this article comes across from a different angle than you are used to, but it might still make interesting reading for you.  This column is appearing in today’s SunStar Davao, October 9, 2009.

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I’ve been living in the Philippines for almost 10 years already, and many days I still learn new things about the place.  When I first came to live here, everything was different for me.  Today, nearly 10 years later, I am already accustomed to most things, but a few things still pop up that catch me off guard.

I am a believer that we are all people, despite our differences.  While we have things about us that are different, we also have many things that we share in common.  However, even though many, probably most things about different peoples are similar, or even the same, when you relocate to a different place, especially if it is halfway around the world, it is the things that are different that really stick out and are very noticeable to you.

What creates most such differences is culture.  The culture is way that we do things, the normal way that the people around us have taught us that things should be done.  We are a product of the culture in which we grew up.  It is through the influence of others, and through observing how others do things that teach us how to do things, and we mimic, or copy how we see others doing things.

When we move to a new place, very far away from our home, we notice that people do things differently than we do the same things.  It does not mean that the way the people do it is wrong, or that we are wrong, we just do it differently.  It can be a difficult adjustment, though.

A little over 2 years ago, I decided that if I was going to live here permanently, I really should learn how to speak the language.  Having decided that, it presented an entirely new problem… which language should I learn?  Tagalog?  Bisaya?  Some other language like Ilonggo?  I settled in on Bisaya, because my wife’s family is Bisaya.  Living in Mindanao, there is a majority of Bisaya speakers too, so I decided that Bisaya was the right language for me to learn.  I searched and was able to find a very good linguist to teach me how to speak Bisaya, Bebe Metillo.  Bebe had, in the past, taught Missionaries living here, and I was her first non-Missionary student.

In learning to speak Bisaya, I found myself also learning a lot of cultural things about the Philippines too.  Things that I didn’t understand well became clearer to me.  In the past, when I saw something being done a certain way, I thought that the thing was being done “the wrong” way.  As I learned from Bebe, I came to understand that the Filipino way of doing something was not “wrong,” but only different from the way I was used to.  There were cultural reasons for things being done differently.  If something works, it is not wrong, just different.

Over the past 2 years that I have been studying with Bebe, it has really opened up my mind and also helped me understand my new home in a better way, and also helped me adjust my attitude and acceptance of the Philippines.  Frankly, it’s been a God-send for me, because it has made my life happier, more stress-free, and given me a better understanding of the Philippines, and of Filipinos too.

I often think back to my time before I was studying language and culture from Bebe.  It was not as enjoyable a life.  Learning the language (I’m not 100% fluent, but I can get by) has helped me a lot too, and made my life better.  Being able to understand what is going on around you makes you feel better about living here too, and I am happy for that.

Next week, I’ll look at my decision of what language to learn, and I’ll let you know if I think I made the right choice by deciding to learn Bisaya.

“I Hate the Philippines”

I know what you’re thinking, “Well if you don’t like it go home!”  Well I’m not talking about myself of course but it’s something I heard a foreigner say in the Palengke just today.  Usually I avoid expats with sentiments like this as if they were leapers, but this guy zeroed in on me and decided to involve me in his conversation.  I was waiting for my wife to buy fish, yeah OK, I’m game.

The first question that came to mind was the one I asked, “Why do you hate the Philippines?”.  The answer quite to my surprise was “Because it is full of Filipinos.”  Wow, that’s heavy stuff.  With the obnoxious volume in his voice I’m surprised he wasn’t stabbed on the spot.  Filipinos are nationalistic to a “T” and will defend their country’s honor whatever her faults.  At this point I could feel the many eyes starting to turn our way and I wanted to melt or evaporate anything to not be associated with this guy.  I proceeded to be rational about the thing and the conversation went something like this…  “Well of course it’s full of Filipinos, it’s their country and we’re guests here, what is your problem with them?”  “Well look at this place” as he gestured around the palengke, “It’s filthy, it smells, there’s nothing protecting the food.”  “True” I replied, “but that’s the way it is.  I’ve been buying here for 3 years now and I’ve never had food poisoning.  Maybe you should shop in SM if you want it packaged American style.”  He looked at me with a slight look of disgust in his eyes knowing that he wasn’t going to find an ally in his mad anti-Philippine ravings.

“It’s too expensive to shop there and my wife insists on dragging me down here.”  He gestured towards a young lady looking over pepino in one of the gulay stalls.  Pretty girl, but with an obvious look of embarrassment on her face.  “Well your wife at least knows how to find a good deal, the foods are better here.”  “Ah what does she know?” he snarled, “She’s just from the province.”  I was fed up, an obvious hint of annoyance in my voice I said “What brought you over here then?  Obviously you’re not happy maybe you’d be better off back in the states?”  He observed me like I was cockroach about to be stomped on. “I can’t live in the states on my pension and my kids want to put me into a retirement home.”  “Well then sir I suggest you count your blessings then. You’ve found yourself a beautiful wife who takes care of you and by your admittance it is cheaper to live over here.”  He looked flustered now, “Well yes but I wish they would just change the bad things about this country but nobody listens to me.”  “No they won’t” I admitted, “but as I said it’s their country and they can do what they want with it, would you like a foreigner telling you what to improve about the USA?  No, then it is up to us to make the most of our new life here.  Might I suggest you start to learn about their culture before you give them advice on how to improve it.”  At this I walked away before he could reply and rejoined my wife.

There are many times in living over here that you will run into people with attitudes like this.  I don’t want to change them, I really don’t care if they want to act like a moron in public, but these are the same people that will complain that Filipinos are taking advantage of them.  Of course, they are a proud people and not stupid, they can spot an idiot and differentiate him from someone that is obviously trying to integrate into Philippine society.  I choose to live as close to a Filipino lifestyle as I can, and I feel that the people here are thankful for it.

Living the sweet life

I’ve been living in the Philippines for going on 10 years now.  Pretty much anything you could imagine about living here, I’ve already seen it, experienced it, or at least heard about it.  I know plenty of people who have lived here much longer than I have, but as a resident of the country for nearly a decade, I feel that I qualify as a long term resident.

I’ve been publishing this site for a bit over 3 years now, and have written about nearly all types of experiences that I have encountered here.  I’ve written a lot of good things about the country, and I have written bad things too.  I’ve written a lot of “how-to” stuff as well.

Over the past six months or a year, a few people (yes, only a few) have written comments here accusing me of “sugar-coating” life in the Philippines.  Some have said, recently, that I do not allow people to post negative things about the Philippines here.  Funny thing is, the person who said that is somebody who is very new to the site, as far as I know.  The simple fact is that if you go back and look through the archives, you will find that I have written nearly an equal amount of positive and negative articles about the Philippines over the past 3 years.  Also, I have allowed all kinds of comments to be posted here on LiP.

There is a discussion going on in the LiP Forum that kind of sparked my thinking about this, and connecting it to the “sugar coating” comments that have been showing up lately.  The Forum topic that I am talking about is entitled, Is It Just Me.  Somebody named “shiredevon” kicks off the discussion by saying:

Is it just me or does anyone else begin to despise living here, seems every day I get more pissed off with the place and the people.

When I read this, it all related back to an article I wrote last week where one person, Bill, said that the material I write is not realistic, and that I sugar coat what I write about the Philippines.

As I read what Bill was so adamant about, and then read what shiredevon says, I just have to wonder… are we living in the same place?

Honestly, when I write articles for this site, I write things as I see them, and as I live them.  If what I write sounds good or enjoyable, it is because I consider my life here to be very good, and I enjoy living here a great deal.

You know what, though?  The more I thought about this, I started thinking about the first few years that I lived here.  You know what…  while I didn’t hate it, a lot of things angered me here.  I was angry a lot of the time.  I didn’t understand how things worked.  I didn’t understand the thinking of the people here.  Basically, I didn’t understand much of anything about the Philippines.  When I moved here, I thought I knew what the Philippines was all about.

When you read through that topic of discussion over in the LiP Forum, you will see that others who have lived here long term explain that this attitude of anger and hatred is a process that you must go through.  But, when you get beyond the anger, and learn what it is all about living here, you can look past those things that anger you.  You don’t have to look at the Philippines and see all the flaws anymore, you can look at it as a work in progress, and accept the parts that are yet to be completed!

To be honest, it probably took me almost 5 years before I could get to the point where I didn’t look for the potholes any longer, and started really enjoying my life here!  I can only come to the conclusion that people like Bill and shiredevon have not lived here long enough to get past that point of anger yet.  Well, I know who Bill is, and I know how long he has lived here, so I know for sure that it is the case for him.  On shiredevon, I surmise by reading what he has written that he is a relatively short-term resident as well.

You know, there are a ton of Internet Sites that are pretty much nothing but people complaining about the Philippines, this and that are all bad here, they don’t do it properly in the Philippines, etc.  Those sites are a dime a dozen.  LiP is not about that.  LiP looks for the positive side of living here.  Sure, if there are things that we don’t like, we can talk about it, but it is not the focal point of what the site is all about.

I enjoy living my life looking for the positive in all aspects of my life.  It makes for a more enjoyable life for me.  For those who prefer to complain, there are a couple of choices they can consider:

1. Stay here at LiP and try to get past the negativity and adapt a more positive attitude.  Do it by reading, and talking with others to try to find the pluses here.
2. If you want to complain, go do it somewhere else!  I mean, complaining is OK, if it is constructive, looking to get past it and to a more positive place.  But, if you have no intent of looking for the positive, there are lots of places on the net where you will surely be at home.

Do I sugar coat life here?  I don’t think so.  I have simply been here long enough that I have attained the sweet life, and I’m loving it.  I’m glad that I got past those first 4 or 5 years when life here was not so enjoyable for me.  You can do it too, and if you do, you’ll have a lot happier life!

What fun a brown out is!!

As mention a few times in Live in the Philippines, one of the things you have to get used to living here is constant brown outs, or power failures as it is called in most of Europe. Apart from the fact that the food spoils quickly and the ability to get on with your daily chores and stay cool without fans and air conditioning.

But this week I had my longest brown out, nearly 14 long hot hours. The power went off just after midnight, and it was a very hot night so the fact there were no fans made it a very slippery night, and any trips to and from the kitchen were made with the help of the always on hand standby candles, or the trusty mobile phone.

Normally a few hours will have the problem rectified, be it overload, cost reasons or a bomb somewhere, its usually up and running in a few hours. I also live near a sub station that comes online when the power outs with a noise like a helicopter hovering over your house for its duration. This time even that did not kick in!!

After a long sweaty night we awoke still without power, which meant lack of water as some of our water supply is pumped through. So as the heat was getting terrible I spent an hour in the swimming pool trying to coll myself down , except for my bald head. That suffered a little.

Having guest too was making me a little annoyed but they were fine and it was part of normal life for them.  They decided to make the most of it.

So for about an hour Migs played his guitar and sang with my friend Keo ,and the worry of having no power was drifting away. We had ice from the Sari Sari store that we put into a jug of coke , and had sandwiches and another song.

Now 12 hours with no power, and if I was in the UK  I would be on the phone moaning and complaining. Here there is no point, it will be on when its on. And after 14 hours it flicked back on and the sing song stopped and the TV went on. A part of me hoped it would stay off a little longer.

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