Keith's First International Trip (06/13/98 - 07/05/98)

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The Trip Out...

The first part of our trip to the Philippines was quite uneventful, as it merely required that we fly to NOVA for a few days of preparation. Visit with people at VRI and watched the Caps choke a few games of the Finals with Deryl. The real adventure began Wednesday, June 17th, when the actual journey commenced. Though our flight was not scheduled to leave until 7 PM, the wisdom of our leading lady, Ena, decreed that we should arrive at Dulles no later than 3 PM. All 9 of us therefore arrived at 3, from whence I shall commence my trip-elapsed timer. Checking in our 18 bags (approximately 1,000 lb.!) was relatively uneventful, though it turns out that each bag must be attached to a single individual (limit 2 bags at 70 lb. max. per person). That was only a minor stir, as our thoughtful leading lady had already apportioned the goods to targeted bags, it only left for me to sort them out and lug them to the check-in desk (keep in mind that I am the only adult male in the group, the only other male is my 15 year old nephew Christian). That accomplished in much less time that I had expected, we made for the Mid-Field terminal to begin our 3.5 hour wait.

The Adventure Begins...
The first of several incidents that were to plague our trip began: the plane was about 40 minutes late. We weren't too concerned as we had a 4 hour layover scheduled at New York, so we could easily afford the time. Once finally boarded, we began our trip to the runway only to discover that, due to bad weather around New York's Kennedy airport, we were to be delayed. And delayed. And delayed. We didn't leave Dulles until around 9:30 (for an hour flight) and even had to go back to the terminal to refuel. The flight itself was rather uneventful, particularly so considering we were delayed due to poor weather.

Arrival in New York....
We finally arrived at New York and had only 90 minutes to get on the China Airlines flight which was to leave at around midnight. I foolishly thought that was a handy amount of time until alarm bells started to go off as one of the flight crew commented that our luggage might not accompany us. My unease increased when I realized we had to go to another building as it appears that domestic and international passengers are not allowed to mix. So we began a trek which was to prove to me that I NEVER want to be in Kennedy airport again. First there were no signs to indicate that we had to take a bus to what amounts to be a whole separate terminal, and once we discovered where to go (after moving as a long caterpillar-like mob with me getting more and more frustrated by the second) we find the place to wait for the bus just after one left. A 10-15 minute wait later, we board the shuttle bus to the other terminal (of 9 different terminals! for those of you lucky enough not to have ever been to Kennedy). I start to relax a little bit as it seems to me we may be able to make the plane.

Once we arrive at the proper terminal, a new frustration ensues: There is no indication of where the hell we need to be! After a bit of wandering around it seems that the only way to get to the ticket counter is to ride up this elevator (which indicates, as always that it not be used in the event of an emergency, rather use the stairs. Useless information, as there is no indication whatsoever of the location of said stairs) where a large group of similarly grumpy people are waiting to ride up a few at a time. We impatiently wait for our chance and head up to the proper level and then take off to find the ticket counter, which, lo and behold is behind the security area (makes perfect sense, eh?) We rush to get in line, spreading our troop out along more than 100 feet of busy airport, only to find that they are already boarding the airplane! Our headlong rush is finally checked quite thoroughly when we find that two of the children that are accompanying us will not be allowed to board because they haven't been given authorization by the Filipino consulate! As Ena makes mad calls to attempt to circumvent this barrier, I comment that if we don't make it on the plane, our luggage surely will and will sit in Manila for us (unfortunately that was not the case). As Ena decides that getting the children on the plane is hopeless, it dawns on her that it is only for those two children, and the rest of our party could go. Therefore Eliz, Christian, Cathleen (Christian's sister), and myself dash off to board the plane. A wrinkle I have not mentioned yet is that China Airlines will not let you confirm and get a seat, it is effectively first-come first-served, and they always over book, so we got to the gate and learned that there were no more seats. Eliz, (our new leading lady) told the gate keeper that we had been promised by the ticketing supervisor that we could get on the plane, but the he was having none of that, so we left to join up with Ena (I must admit to behaving as my usual petulant, childish self that so many of you would have instantly recognized and had made the decision that I was going to figure out how to get back to NC and to hell with this whole trip, so I was very keen to end this unhappy farce.) However, as in all adventures, a bit of serendipity occurred.

On our walk back to meet with Ena, we passed the ticketing supervisor that had promised us that we could get on the plane. Eliz jumped on him and gave him an earful about how we were turned back and lo! he said he would take care of it. We all herded back to the gate and our savior began to work his voodoo. I did complain (in my usual bitter, sarcastic manner) that I would not spend an 16 hour trip if I couldn't sit next to my wife, and I guess the guy overheard (I also mentioned at more that under-my-breath volume that I would never ride on China Airlines again, but who knows if that had any effect) and was assured that I would be able to sit with her. So, while they claimed to be holding the plane for us, they worked to get our party of four on the plane (there was another part of four (Chinese I think) that was suffering similar problems that got on the plane just before we got our chance) and sent us on our way. I was mumbling and cursing in the way that most of you are familiar with as we walked down the ramp and got on the plane, though I must admit when I found that our seats were actually in business class, my demeanor changed rapidly for the better. Not wanting to jinx the shutout, as it were, I refrained from profusely thanking my beautiful wife until we were in the air and it was impractical to recall us.

Finnaly, The Flight Begins...
The first leg of the journey was a bit more than 6 hours to Anchorage, Alaska where we were to refuel. We were graciously treated to wonderful service as we reclined in our luxurious chairs that were so far apart that: 1) I was actually unable to cuddle with Eliz and 2) even with the footrest (!) extended fully AND the passenger in the front leaning all the way back I could still get past Eliz to get to the john. I was treated to amazing sites as I saw the midnight sun illuminating the snowy Northern Rockies and could clearly make out the flow path's of glaciers. I presume that travelers in the winter would be offered the amazing sites of auroras scintillating back and forth over the snowy expanses. Our hour layover in Alaska was uneventful, though interesting how nearly daylight bright it was at 3:30 AM! Our next leg was to Taipei (which was I thought was in China, but appears to be in Taiwan), a bit more than 9 hours. There we had to de-plane and switch flights (which required going through security twice, though I am not convinced that the x-ray machines worked, though they did stare quite intently at some screen we couldn't see). After about an hour, we boarded for our 2 hour flight to Manila (unfortunately back in cattle car class).

To my surprise, unlike the seating in US planes, China Airlines' coach class is quite roomy and we received decent service (though of course not as nice as our previous flight.) Once in Manila we were met by Tita Nelly, one of the million relatives I acquired when I married my beautiful wife, who is somehow involved with the airport and was able to expedite our passage through customs. Accompanying her was a member of the military who was also there to assist any way he might be able, instructed to do so by General Regis, a close personal friend of my new mom (it is nice to be someone, eh?) We then learned, after an hour of wasted time, that our luggage was indeed still in New York with Ena and the rest of our party. Though we were disappointed, it was not unexpected because we had already been briefed that that may happen, so we left the airport to meet with our companions for the last part of our travel to Tacloban, Leyte. As we had a couple of hours to kill prior to our departure, we had lunch at a Chinese restaurant, which was much the same as a restaurant here, except due to the much lower labor rates, our level of service was much higher than we would expect in the states. We made our way to a different airport (though it seemed to use the same runway, go figure) for the trip to Tacloban and began the remainder of our wait.

During our wait, I noticed something that was very strange to my eyes: a little lizard was scurrying along the wall. I have heard that there are places in the US where that is common, but I have never seen such myself. I also got to experience some of the fruits of lower labor rates when I needed to visit the john and met the Keeper of the john where he saw to it that my experience was a satisfactory one (you won't see that in the US in anything less than an extremely ritzy hotel!) Again we passed through two security checkpoints (though I think these may have worked properly) and were fortunately able to board a jet for our final leg of the journey instead of the tiny prop job that was standing on the tarmac as we arrived. I don't know what kind of plane it was, though it was nearly silent. Normally that would have been a good thing, but I was very tired and had been unable to really rest on the long flights, and behind me was some little kid that apparently was being taught to speak as it repeated words over and over and over and over again, all of which I could hear quite clearly, even more so with my ear plugs in. Then, to make the trip even more annoying, one of the flight attendants was running some sort of contest to please the (other) passengers and it seems that the speaker was just above my head -- and the volume turned on full-blast! The trip did finally end. We arrived at the Tacloban airport (all of 2.5 feet above sea level, boy are they going to hate global warming!) and were met by Mama and Papa and started our drive to our final(!) destination.

First Impressions of Tacloban, Leyte...
When you see the pictures of the third world countries (or read descriptions such as this one) and you see the amazing density and piles of shanties stacked on one another, you comment to yourself "My what crowded conditions". I must inform you that the image you form in your mind is but a pale shadow of the real thing. Just like a farm boy from Iowa will be amazed at the dirty masses of humanity in New York, so the kid from New York will find Tacloban (and I imagine many, many other places in the Philippines, though I have as yet only seen Tacloban.) The traffic is suicidal, as cars, motorcycles, bicycles, and pedestrians mix indiscriminately on the streets, which, by the way, are often only the width of two cars, and vehicles often pass one another with inches to spare. I was first struck with the gaudy glare of the jeepneys. Originally make-overs of W.W.II jeeps left behind, jeepneys are mini-buses used to transport those fortunate enough to be able to afford the ride. Usually highly chromed, these vehicles are also brightly decorated with signs and symbols the New York kid would recognize quite readily. It seems that due to the advent of global telecommunications, all the logos and ads familiar in the US are also familiar here. There are also ample evidences of the highly Catholic nature of the Filipinos on the vehicles such as "Praise the Lord" stickers, crosses, and rosaries. Travel on the roads is a catch as catch can situation where entering an intersection is taking your life in your hands. Unlike what I hear of the Vietnamese, where they simply enter the intersection relying on Buddha (or whomsoever) to protect them, the Filipinos take a more cautious approach. They gradually inch their way into the intersection until the traffic flow splits around them (indicating they have made it half way) and then inch to the other side. All of this occurring as the cross traffic constantly flows by (and occasional pedestrians making the mix all the more interesting.)

The reason the roads are so narrow is because the buildings come right to the very edge of the road. There seems to be some sort of status to be gained by being right on the road, and buildings set back from the road are usually bordered by vendor stalls that reach out to the edge.

A Few Words Now on the Buildings...
This place, if it has any building codes, obviously doesn't enforce them. Shanty is piled against shanty, houses go any which way, and the only thing that keeps this place from being a huge fire trap is that the older and/or larger buildings are made of cinder blocks or poured concrete and will make for excellent fire brakes. Tacloban, not a large city by Filipino standards, must surely have population densities approaching that of New York or LA. I believe the main reason why the densities can be so high when the average income is so low is due to the fact that, unlike the US, just about any tree or plant is a source of food, and the ocean is never very far away no matter where you go and is still full of easily accessible protein. Since I can find no adequate words to describe the chaos that is the construction, I will have to rely on the picture above to tell the story (1,000 words worth, eh?).

We finally arrived at our destination on Friday the 19th at around 5:30 PM, making the journey a total of over 38 hours! I promptly lay down in our air-conditioned bed room (Thank God for air-conditioning) and slept.

After awaking at 4 AM with a debilitating headache, Eliz gave me some drugs which put me out until around 7:30 when I awoke refreshed. Because we left our luggage behind in New York, we arrived with nothing to wear for the big occasions we were to attend. Therefore we had to scurry about procuring dresses and shoes for Eliz and Kathleen as well as pants and shoes for myself. To purchase shoes we went to a local department store (concealed, as described above, by street-side vendors) where they had air-conditioning! as well as all the modern conveniences you would associate with a typical store here in the US (except that I noticed a cockroach of the heroic proportions of at least 2.5-3 inches long!) Another thing that caught my interest was the armed (!) guards scattered liberally throughout the store and that there may have been as many employees as there were shoppers. This ratio was further increased when Eliz pointed out that the store often had phantom shoppers drifting about to keep an additional eye on the goods. Ah, the joys of cheap labor! The most interesting thing about shoe shopping was that all the sizes were large, i.e. I wear a 10.5 in the states, and some of the 9's I tried on were too big. Of interest also was the fact that different shoes ranging from 8's to 9.5's all fit the same. The pants were tailored to fit (and they fit perfectly, though I am unhappy to report they were a size 38 1/2!) at a place that partakes in the tradition of living in your place of business. This tailor's work area that we entered from the street opened in the back to what looked like a very nice courtyard, full of plants and laid out in a most pleasant way.

Partaking of the usual Filipino tradition, we were around an hour late to the church. It appears that this was a normal Mass that was to be enhanced by the reiteration of Mama's and Papa's vows. It was a brief affair mixed in with the normal activities of Mass and was most noteworthy in that the place was NOT air-conditioned. It was opened to the air in many locations and a little bird joined us for the end of the vows to put nature's blessing on the event. We then journeyed to a restaurant for the party (more than 180 guests!). Fortunately it was inside and air-conditioned (have I mentioned that it is hot here?) Papa gave a speech that was an introduction of EVERYONE at the party. We agreed that it was more a display of his ability to remember everyone than for any other purpose. After the cake's candles were lit and blown out, us four travelers and the several we picked up in Manila, all snuck out and went home to sleep.

After we got up Sunday morning, we drove out to a local beach called the white sand beach, though that is only relative. The sand was a very dark beige to dark brown and seemed to have lots of organic matter in it. It was very relaxing to bob and float in the surf and the water was nice and warm. Almost so warm as to be uncomfortable if you were exerting yourself (I didn't). After that we drove to see the McArthur landing park where he arrived when he lead the forces to retake the islands. It was there that I saw the practice of drinking green coconut milk. I couldn't bring myself to try it, though I am told it is very refreshing.

Tito, the foster son of Mama and Papa, was getting married this Sunday to a pretty Chinese woman named Lily-Grace. Due to the missing members of our party, there was scrambling to find the appropriate people for participation in the ceremony. I was drafted to help place a cord around the happy couple (not a bad thing I assure you) and Eliz was to help place the veil. Eliz, Christian, and Cathleen were to all read appropriate Bible passages (as this wedding, just like the last one, was to take place during a regular Mass.) Again, the whole procession was late for our 1:30 in the afternoon appointment, though this time it was at least partly due to the fact that the dresses for the bride's maids had not been completed until the last minute. We arrived at the oppressively hot church to begin waiting for the bride. When she finally arrived and the show started, only an hour late (in keeping with Filipino tradition, it actually started on time.)

The wedding went on and on and on and on. I was awed by Tito and Lily-Grace's ability to kneel before the alter for what seemed like an hour and a half to me, with not a breath of air stirring, and wearing all those cloths! I was having heat stroke in sympathy. About 2/3rds the way through the wedding the carefully laid out plan began to crumble as the Monsignor himself seemed to be effected by the heat (he was better off than the couple (and the rest of us), as he had attendants that ensured that a fan was always pointing his direction.) None the less, the wedding was completed, and I didn't fall on my face due. We were to visit with the happy couple at Grace's house until the reception at 7, but I was in too bad of shape, so went home to sleep until then. The reception was held in a local high school gym, which was a bit unexpected, though the food and service were first class. I guess the gym was the only place to hold the reception as there were over 400 guests! It was also un-air-conditioned, but since the early tropical night had fallen it was cooler and bearable. The reception ended fairly early, so it was not necessary to sneak out.

On Monday we took an hour boat ride to part of another island, Samar, where we spend the day at an isolated resort, called Marabut, that is part of the Leyte Park hotel. With all the modern conveniences (except for cable and phone) it is the post card picture of the tropical beach, complete with it being isolated from any close by towns or cities by dirt roads that are nearly impassable if it rains. We spent an enjoyable day there walking along the beach shell collecting, kayaking, and relaxing. Eliz and I were taken to a small island nearby, where part of our group had already gone, via a stop at a hidden mangrove swamp that required us to duck our heads and actually go underground to see. Upon arriving back at Leyte park, we were greeted by the rest of our party AND with our luggage that we had lost in New York!

On Tuesday we saw Tito and Grace off at the airport, and I began to feel worse and worse and wound up spending the next 16 hours asleep. Fortunately, the sleep seemed cure me, so Wednesday morn began with the decision to repeat our adventure at the Leyte private resort with the whole clan (including our lost sheep from New York and Mama and Papa), with Eliz and I deciding to spend the night there. We bought some snorkels and masks, though for my part, they were too small as I was unable to get them to fit comfortably without leaking. Part of our group went off to the island we had visited before and Eliz and I got a tour of some small caves nearby. We saw some bats and enjoyed the cooler air, but since we hadn't brought any flashlights we didn't go very far. On the way back we saw a few monkeys that promptly took off. Our guide said that they were scared of my white face. One of the resort workers had been stalking the beach looking for stinging jelly fish that occasionally frequent the cove found a small octopus. It thrills me to see all the stuff that I had wanted to keep in my fish tanks all around me. After lunch, Christian and I went to see some coral at another nearby island. We had plans of snorkeling, but there was so much coral that we were unable to move around by swimming without running our hands and legs on the coral.

At dinner we met the only other patron of the resort, an American who was overseeing the construction of a road that would connect the Southern parts of Samar island. He was a font of information that I found interesting, but I won't bore you with it. Another interesting part of dinner was the scavenging hermit crabs trooping back and forth across the floor of our dining area seeking scraps that the scrawny local cats may have left. After dinner I took a flashlight and went to visit some of the nearby coral to see if it looked different at night. I didn't notice any difference in the coral, but did find a small cuttlefish that seemed willing to let me stare at it, that is until I took the flash light off for about 30 seconds, then it disappeared. I don't think they can move that fast, instead I think it camouflaged itself against the bottom. In the morning we were taken to what was at one time surely an extremely fine mansion. The remnants that hadn't been scavenged by locals were still very nice, though the remaining hardwood paneling (the real stuff around 1/2 inch thick, not the stuff we see in the states) had been eaten by termites. It was interesting how the termites has left the polished outer layer of the wood, but had eaten virtually everything else. We arrived back at the resort just before a downpour began, delaying our return to the park. Because of the downpour and resultant poor visibility, we inched our way across the strait separating Leyte and Samar (since the boat pilot relied on visual navigation) and were more than half way back before we could finally see the Leyte coast.

Beginning Friday evening and dragging on into Monday, I seem to have suffered from Motezuma's (sp?) revenge. Fortunately Mama and Papa have a wide selection of National Geographic's, so I was able to spend the few hours I was awake entertaining myself by reading (and looking at the pretty pictures). Monday morning I was feeling a bit better and we drove across the San Juanico bridge to Samar and visited a little town called Basey. A rather nice drive when compared to the traffic and pollution here in Tacloban. Most of the "traffic" was tricycle-taxis and pedestrians. It is interesting how much utility people get out of these roads. I am told that in the more rural areas there is often resentment when a vehicle comes along and disturbs the locals. They use the road for much more than transportation such as drying rice and coconut (and sometimes their cloths), using it as a playground, etc.

Monday was also the beginning of the Festival here in Tacloban, and we had front row seats (finally a reward for all the fumes and constant racket from the road in front of the house) along with others in Tacloban, some of which were perfectly happy to make do make do with whatever they needed to get a good view. In typical fashion, the parade was late beginning. It seems the Filipino's are even worse at taking direction than Americans, as even as the parade was going past, drivers kept wanting to use the road. For the third time I have loaded the film incorrectly in my camera and failed to realize that until the film failed to stop advancing at 24 frames. I thought it was just a phenomenon of the Mendoza clan that the taking, and having taken of, pictures was an obsession, but many of the young people going by on the parade and even those standing and watching would clamor for me to take their pictures. Of interest to a few of my readers, there is a branch of the service fraternity Alpha Phi Omega.

Another interesting pastime that coincides with the Festival is a activity called painting. This is where groups of young people will load up their hands with paint and apply it to (usually) consenting people. One thing my hypersensitive nose detected was that the silly people below us were using enamel paint! Christian, Cathleen, and Lian (Ena's 17 year old daughter who had been stranded at New York) all decided to participate. Well it seems that any education regarding the types and varieties of paint has escaped them, because they presumed that the paint was water soluble. I suggested that rather than use kerosene (as had been suggested) to remove the paint, they use cooking oil instead. After much fears of damage to their complexion (not thinking about how much damage the paint and the potential damage the kerosene would do) they finally decided to take my advice and use the oil. It was somewhat successful, though some paint was left around their ears.

On Wednesday, with the idea of avoiding a 3-4 hour trip in a car, I campaigned to skip a trip to Cebu, a resort on a neighboring island, in favor of touring some points of interest on Leyte. A friend of Papa's knew someone that could get us a guide for a bit of a tour of the island on such short notice, so we arranged for a car and driver. The driver was a real nice guy, but very conservative on the road (read as sssslllllooooowww). Normally I considered the jeepneys as slow, but they blew past us regularly. The trip took us through Ormoc, a sister city of Tacloban's, and much cleaner. Much less traffic as well. Only a fraction of the jeepneys and those tri-motorcycles. More of the tri-cycles with their pollution free power. The buildings were less crowded and seemed to be cleaner (perhaps due to less fumes). Near Ormoc we picked up our guide for our trip to see the rain forest at VISCA, a very quite guy who didn't give the impression that he was happy with his new responsibility as a guide. But he did know his way around the University.

Visayas State College of Agriculture (VISCA)...

Located at the town of Baybay (pronounced buy buy) VISCA is a very pretty campus that has many distractions to tempt the student population away from their scholarly duties. It is much cleaner and quieter than Tacloban as well as being sandwiched between mountain and sea with all the beauty of both. I was initially interested in visiting a rain forest preserve the University has, but upon arriving with our guide I learned that they have an on-going research project in tropical reforestation with a catch. The catch is that the organizers wanted it to be practical for the low budget farmer to be able to profitably work a sustainable native ecosystem. For all practical purposes, all of the Philippines main islands have been stripped bare of native vegetation. The bulk of the islands are made up of about a dozen species, primarily coconut, banana, rice, and a few other species, all with food and/or commercial utility. Even the places where they grow trees as a crop, the technique is mono-culture and typically use non-native species. This research group has come up with a practical way whereby the cash strapped farmer can make at least as much, perhaps more, by working the land in a sustainable fashion with a cultured native rain forest. While still not approaching the diversity of an undisturbed forest, they have successfully planted commercially useful native trees with up to 190 different species per hectare (about 2.5 acres). While these trees grow (it takes up to 25-30 years for some to be commercially useful) the farmer can grow many native shade loving crops in between the growing trees. Because the trees are planted in a specific pattern, the farmer is taking advantage of the natural secession and can generate a comfortable and sustainable income. While this group has proven the academic viability of the program, the actual commercial success is still in the very early stages of experimentation. During my brief visit at the University I was able to meet and speak with a German Professor (VISCA, and it appears the Philippines in general, have many academic ties with Germany) who informed me of their research. For a while I seriously contemplated trying to weasel an academic post there, as this professor mentioned that their biggest need right now is someone who can provide the economic and marketing perspective to turn their academic work to successful commercial implementation. I still may attempt to proffer myself and try and obtain some sort of adjunct position, but I have too many projects that need some long-term attention at home to move on now. It wasn't an easy decision to make. After my fascinating visit with the professor, we were taken to a plot where they have been putting their research into action. A totally different environment when compared to the typical cultivated lands seen hereabouts. They are propagating seedlings as quickly as they can, as it turns out that the limiting factor in this research is the lack of mature trees to provide seeds. In addition, apparently many of these trees, though they flower each year, often do not form any seeds, and when they do, the seeds are only viable for a few weeks making the scramble to harvest and plant the seeds very intense.

Lake Danao...
We dropped off our VISCA guide and picked up another guide to take us to the lake and the hot springs. Our second guide was as voluble as our first guide was stoic. I could tune him out because he was speaking in Tagalog (or some other dialect, in any case I couldn't understand them) but I got the impression that our driver and my lovely wife were a bit overwhelmed from time to time.

Our driver, who was already driving slower than I would like on the paved roads, now slowed down to a fast walk as we started up what was laughingly called a road. It may have originally been a nice smooth dirt road, but the constant raining had removed anything smaller than small boulders, so the "road" was more a long line of rocks randomly placed than anything else. I must admit that with the ground clearance our sedan had, it may not have been practical to drive any faster, but I was very frustrated as we bumped and heaved along on our trip "just a few kilometers away". After endless hammering, we finally arrived at Lake Danao, a very pretty natural lake in the mountains. Someone in the government with foresight has decreed that there will be no development around the lake and its watershed, so the waters remain very clean and clear. Many parts of Leyte use this lake as drinking water, and Tacloban depends on it. We had no sooner arrived when a tropical downpour began. It went on and on and on, and after waiting for I think more than an hour in a little grass hut on the edge of the lake (amazingly those grass huts really do keep the rain off!), we made the run back to the car and got soaked to the bone. Now the AC, which earlier was a blessing, became a curse. It appears that they don't put heaters in cars that are sent to the Philippines, so we couldn't turn the heat up to compensate for the coolness of the AC and we had to have the AC on to keep the fog off the windshield.

Tongonan Hot Springs National Park...
After our brief visit to the lake, our guide directed us toward one of the local hot springs. These hot springs are being used as a source of geothermal energy to generate electricity, apparently for most of the Philippines! Again it was on a boulder strewn stretch of ground called a road, and we made our usual crawling progress. It had almost stopped raining by the time we arrived at the boiling springs (I have no idea why the scans turned out purple). And they were! They also smelled slightly sulfurous (which I rather liked) but most importantly they were HOT and we were freezing. We didn't actually dry off because standing in the steam was what kept us warm and it was rather humid even without the steam, but at least it was nice to be warm. On our way to the lake, Eliz bought some bananas and a few eggs, and our guide put the 'nanners and the eggs in the water. Lo and behold, after only a few minutes, we had boiled eggs (which I liked) and cooked 'nanners (which I didn't). I also observed that the level of boiling water would fluctuate, making me nervous that it might pull an "Old Faithful" and blast us. But the heat felt real good. After exploring for a while longer, we began the long slow ride home. It was a real pleasure to get back on the paved road and blaze along at 40 miles per hour again. All in all, my efforts to avoid being trapped in a car for 3-4 hours netted me around 10 hours. Not very good economics, but that is what gambling is all about. Still, it was an adventure worth having, and I got to see lots of interesting things and had plenty to think about during the long drive.

On Thursday we used the same driver to take us to a cave in Calbiga, Samar. We were also traveling with an older couple, and if anything our driver drove even slower. The road, while paved, had so many bumps and sunken spots that the driver was often reduced to speeds of a couple of miles an hour, so if the trip was 60 miles, it took us nearly 2 hours. None the less, we did make our way further and further out into the bush, eventually the paved road petered out (though it did have dirt, so it wasn't as bad as those "roads" yesterday.) A kilometer or two past the end of the pavement we were lead to a beautiful house on top of this hill with these panoramic views that went all the way to the ocean. It turns out that this guy wants to develop the cave into a tourist attraction and has built this beautiful house to have someplace for those tourists to stay. At this point I began to doubt the image I had built in my mind of a Luray Caverns type of experience. We were treated to a cup of coffee then sent on our way. We drove another couple of kilometers until the road became impassable, then were instructed we had to hike another 3 kilometers to reach the cave. I had recovered from my illness, so I had no qualms about that, and the other couple with us were game so off we went.

The walk was nice, very hilly though, and of course hot and humid. Fortunately it was cloudy, so we didn't have blast furnace heat from the sun to contend with. Our guides indicated that this cave, supposedly 4th or 5th largest in the world, had been discovered in the mid 80's and only recently explored by some Italians spelunkers (or kerplunkers as my old friend Tim used to call them.) Even though we were miles from any road and the porous limestone leached nutrients from the soil, nearly every square meter was being cultivated (and by hand!) Except for some vertical spots, all the land had been cleared and had some sort of cultivated plants on it. All this cultivation was done by hand, by the way, and in the far out boonies that it felt like, we would often come across the farmers toiling away, clearly not curious about our passage. The remnants of the road petered out until we had a person-wide foot path to deal with, then we dropped into this valley with a huge, shear limestone cliff (the cave opening is that dark hole next to her right elbow!), at the bottom of which was our cave. It was humbling as we continued to walk toward the cave and we kept getting smaller and smaller until we had shrunk enough to fit in the opening. At this point I was clear that we were not in Luray after all, but my pleasure of having a "wild" cave to explore was quickly tempered by my inability to maintain traction with my tennis shoes. I reluctantly decided that I might have to sit this one out, as I was confident that I would at least sprain my ankle, if not break it, if I couldn't clearly see what I was doing. After we relaxed for a while and ate a bit of our lunch, our guides began to attempt to light the lamp they had brought. I say attempt because after a good 20 minutes of effort, they were unable to get it to burn properly. I was firmly committed to not going now, since there would be very little light, I was sure I would be in a bad way if I tried. The others, being more brave (or foolhardy) decide they could make due with the kerosene soaked, rag stuffed bottles as their light source. Eliz had the forethought to take the flashlight, though the beam it put out was quite dim. The intrepid explorers set out, and I settled back and may have actually dozed off a bit. There were bats in the cave, though very few in evidence. We could hear them, and occasionally see them as they flew in and out. After about an hour the explorers made it back, with no casualties I am happy to report (though one did have an unexpected seat.) After they rested a while we began our trek back. The clouds held out until we were almost back to the car, making the trip a lot more enjoyable. I think the three of them snoozed most of the ride home.

July 2nd is Eliz' birthday, and we had a party! I met a few of her friends (all seem to be real nice) and after we worked over the food, we all gathered around for a party pic.

On Friday morning, we set off to begin our trek home. It was to be in four parts, very similar to the trip out. Tacloban to Manila, Manila to Taipei, Taipei to New York via Alaska, then New York to DC (and thence to NC, but I was happy to call DC home at that point). We got up early after most of the packing was done the night before and set off to the airport. Whilst flying over many islands on our trip to Manila, I was struck again by how thoroughly these tropical islands had been stripped of all their native vegetation. I guess I am spoiled by living in the US, where we still have large tracts of land (as yet) untouched by the devastating effects of human kind. It drove home some ideas I had been thinking about after reading all those Geographics about how most of the rest of the world (the US is grossly under populated when compared with the rest of the world) is on the brink of disaster. It is true that we could probably sustain a population 2-3 time what we have if, instead of the rape and pillage method of "harvesting" the seas and the forests, we replace harvest our resources with sustainable farming methods. Unfortunately, it may be that we don't have time to adapt to new ways of farming no matter how economically rewarding it may be in either the short or long term. Because there is no incentive for the good guy to restrain his activities when the harvest he forgoes is going to be taken by a less caring person, there can be no conservation without a large group overseeing the resources with the power to enforce it's decisions. And, as we students of history know, power attracts the corruptible, so any command structure we care to put in place will be subverted in some form or fashion by those seeking only to improve only themselves at the expense of all others. Other than my depressing maunderings, the trip was uneventful.

A Night in Manila...

We were met at the airport by Tito and Grace (who had just got back from their honeymoon in Australia) along with Jasmine and Rodel who had traveled with us to Tacloban for the wedding. I didn't get a clear understanding of how the honeymoon went, because when I asked Grace about it she gave me a very unenthusiastic response, but Tito indicated it was a great time. I hope they resolve these experiential differences so they can keep their stories straight for the interrogation they are sure to receive at home. They all wanted to go to the "Duty Free" store (a mall really) and get some appliances. The prices of the stuff is supposed to be real good because it is tax free, but I didn't find that with the cigars I got there. I didn't get any Cuban's because they were VERY expensive ($350 for 25) so I decided I would try them some other time. After the novelty wore off, we journeyed across Manila to South Mall, the biggest mall I have seen yet as far as square feet of shopping space. Rather than wasting space with a huge atrium as is common in the US, they have a store in the middle of the mall. This, in my mind, makes the mall much, much bigger. They even had an ice rink in the basement, not NHL size, but impressive in that they are in the tropics and can afford to keep the ice frozen. The reason I know the prices of the cigars were terrible in the duty free store was because in the huge store in the center of the mall I found the same cigars for almost half the price. I got hosed big time!

After our trip to the mall, we went to spend the night at Jasmine's place. I was tired so lay down to take a nap, and, as I have done in the past, slept all night (probably more than 10 hours!) I took a "shower" that morning by pouring pails of water over my head. It appears that water is not reliable in Manila, so they have to collect buckets of water whenever it flows and save it for just such occasions. I am not convinced I completely rinsed off, but it was refreshing. We got to the airport and began our waiting (lots of that when you travel, even in the US.)

The Long Trip Begins...
We were early enough to get seats of our choice. When I asked for seats on an emergency exit (we were riding in cattle car class) for the trip, I meant for the whole trip, but our agent only got us those seats for the trip to Taipei (the bone head). The emergency exits on those humungous 747's are regular doors and I had more leg room than I needed (fully extended I still had some 4 feet to the wall.) Eliz and I mulled things over and decided that upgrading to business class might be worth a few bucks, particularly since we didn't get the emergency exit seats for the long haul. When we were at Tacloban we felt the price would be worth $250, but after arriving in Taipei, we had bumped that up to $500. We inquired at the ticket office and were told that we could have the upgrade for $584 (each) and decided it was worth it. I still think it was well worth it, because we spent a lot of time in that seat, and the extra space is a big deal to me. It was interesting to me to note that it appeared that every one of the business class seats was full for the return trip while probably less than 30% were full on the trip out (though cattle car was full both ways.) As with the trip out, the trip back on China Airlines was very enjoyable once we were on the plane. However, just as in the trip out, our arrival (at around 11:30 PM) at Kennedy was fraught with angst.

A New Nightmare in JFK...
I really, really, REALLY hate that damn airport. We arrived late at JFK, mostly due to having left nearly 2.5 hours late (apparently there were mechanical problems with our original plane and they had to prepare another one for us) and our connecting flight to DC had left before we even arrived. China Airlines had originally told us before we left Taipei that this would happen, but we would be put up in a hotel and could catch the 10:30 flight the next morning. Well, after waiting (and waiting, and waiting) for our luggage to finally arrive (I am sure there is a perfectly acceptable explanation why JFK can't move luggage around at the pace of EVERY other airport in the world, but I am unaware of it) we were told we were going to have a bus take us to DC. I was not too pleased with that, because the trip would be 4 hours and I have only unhappy memories from being on any bus, but since there were only to be 9 of us on the bus I felt that insult could be born. Then we waited (and waited, and waited, and waited) and finally discovered that the "bus" was a van, a van that is supposed to hold 9 people AND their luggage, and my temper, never very cool under the best of circumstances, was flaring out from under control. Eliz, bless her heart, told the China Airline's rep that it was medically impossible for me to ride in the van due to problems with my knees. Well I do have problems with them, but it is not like I couldn't do the dirty deed, only that I would be in complete misery for the entire trip (did I mention that they were going to "detour" through Philadelphia to drop one of the passengers off?) However, she got them committed to letting us get a hotel and we finally arrived at our room around 3:30 am and got some sleep. The rest of the trip was somewhat anticlimactic, though normally I would regale you with the problems we had then (they seem somewhat pale after our ordeal in New York.)

TGWH...
After almost missing our plan in DC (due to a nap we decided to take that would have been a disaster if it was a little bit longer) we got to Charlotte and made the hour drive home. Home sweet home! The rest of the week was spent trying to adapt to East coast time and we have been taking naps after dinner, then waking up and staying up until 2:30 or 3 am. Gotta break that habit before we will have truly recovered.

Well, for those of you who have read this far, thank you for your kind attention and interest. I classify this trip as "Interesting", a real eye-opener, and feel that the good has weighed even with the bad. I expect for the next trip (we are talking about December of '99) I will be better prepared for the trauma, most of which was associated with JFK. If we can figure a way to avoid the hassles there, the trip outlook will improve tremendously. I have been left with many things to think about and I will be digesting my experience for may weeks to come. My conclusion is: it was worth the trip. It broadened my mind and let me know what it was like to live in a third world country and gives me a better perspective on population pressure and the issues inherent with it. I expect my journal for my next trip will be less negative and contain more pictures (I have only just bought my camera and am still learning how to use it.)