Retracing Steps in the Philippines

This is my fourth country, but this time it’s to visit old friends and somewhat familiar places.  I was a Peace Corps Volunteer here (1969-1971) after training in Hawaii late in 1969, and returned again in 1983-1984, this time as a Fulbright scholar at the University of the Philippines Los Banos.  Thus, I flew into Manila but spent most of my time in Antique on the island of Panay, in the south, the Visayas, but also visited UP Los Banos as well as the area in Manila where I taught at the Asian Institute of Journalism.  This time the report is more personal, perhaps biographical.   I was not here “for sightseeing,” but I saw plenty of sights in addition to visiting with old friends. 

And technology has played an important role.  A combination of cell phones, Facebook and email put me and ol’ friends in touch so that I made connections not possible on my last visit.  I’ve been able to talk with family and friends back home as the same linking technology connects me with former students again and again here.   A dozen or so years ago, one of my former students, who I thought might be dead since she had been rumored to be a “rebel” during those trying days of the late Marcos regime, found my email on the web (in reference to Mark Twin, reports of her death were greatly exaggerated).  She contacted other students via emails and Facebook to organize a party, and I’ve watched as our photos get shared and dispatched with regularity as I proceed.  Talk to one person, and they connect with someone else, and, another reunion pops up.  Even my visit to UPLosBanos was enabled with an email to an ol’ friend from there but now in North Dakoka, who emailed others here, and everything fell into place.  It’s an exaggeration, but at times I feel I’m the only one without a cell phone here (UPLB says some farmers use their cell phones for weather info).  When I was a PCV, the telephone arrived in Antique, though as a PCV I did not have one.  Now the TV satellite they get has most of the channels I have back home (except the HBO+ premium channels) plus a host of channels from throughout Asia and elsewhere; still, as the literature would predict, they watch the Philippine channels most of all.  There are Internet cafes and shops, one run by a former student of mine, and they’re found everywhere.  There’s still a lively newspaper scene, and I even located the Panay News, which sort of covers the island’s news; some also follow the news online.  An impeachment trial of the chief justice of the Supreme Court has generated abundant coverage on television and in the newspapers.  I’ve been a fan, as it recalls the Bork confirmation hearings and Watergate hearings.  The Senate president, Enrile, is 88 and the defense attorney 80, and I recall the former from the people’s uprising and the Marcos era a generation ago.  Good theater.

Some observations rather than a complete itinerary.First, the countryside is a beautiful as I remember, and, fortunately the roads to Antique are all paved so one can enjoy the view.  What took some four hours on buses with wooden benches and open sides convenient for the dust now takes only two hours with buses and mini-vans that keep schedules.   Forty years ago the bus driver would wait for you to finish breakfast before continuing on his way from Antique to Iloilo; now you have to go to the terminal.   The sleepy town of San Jose, which had market days but not every day back then, now has a large shopping mall complete with a grocery store much like the one I shop in back home  There are so many motor cycles/scooters that traffic jams appear and jeepney and tricycle traffic is regulated (somewhat).  I managed to visit two of the three remaining towns in the province of Antique that I had not been to over the years because the transportation has become so more reliable and faster (Remigio and Anini-y). A German businessman and his Filipina wife have “retired” to Patnongan and built the first installment of an amazingly charming and modern resort on the sea (you can sit in the tub and look out the mountains in one direction or sit on a third-floor balcony and sip wine while listening to the ocean waves in the other direction, all for about $80 a night).  Almost by accident, I asked a 30ish white fellow I saw coming out of the mall if he was a Peace Corps Volunteer.  He wasn’t (a retired Air Force man who married Filipina and now lives there) but he was enroute to see a married PCV couple who were working in marine life and living in a nipa house in Komon.  He called them on his cell phone and we joined him there for a chat.  As it turns out, the lady had a list of PCVs in Antique over the years and, with an approximate time of my tenure there, she came up with my name from conversations she’s had.  Turns out, Jingjing, the son of the family whose hospitality I was enjoying, and another former student of mine now in Manila, also knew them.  How’s that for coincidences?  Walking along the beach coming back from Piapi, in Malundog, we inquired at a house of a former teacher, only to learn from her daughter that she was meeting with a group of retired teachers at the school at that very moment.  So we caught a tricycle back and I surprised the other “old timers.”  As I told them, “retiree ako man” (I’m a retiree too now). 

Metro Manila’s bigger than ever (12 million), and the traffic amazing.  Glad I don’t have to drive.  Fortunately, twice I’ve had friends who’ve loaned me their car and driver or arranged cabs for trips to dinners and to Los Banos from Manila, a two and a half hour drive with traffic.  The Mall of Asia hugs Manila harbor on reclaimed land and is the third largest mall in the world, about a kilometer long.  Enroute to that area, I stopped in at a shop selling handicrafts and Philippine products, when Imelda Marcos walked in to do some shopping.  She’s 82, I’m told, but carries her years well.  My bag was checked at the door but on my way out I snuck a photo with my zoom lens.  The Pasig River doesn’t smell as it used to, Rizal Park is sparkling and attended to, and the old Spanish fort, Intramuros, is restored as best you can for something a couple centuries old.  And for those who think stereotypes are “fixed” around the world, twice I’ve been asked if I was Chinese---your skin is so white and your eyes look Chinese.  It used to happen years ago, and it always makes me smile.  Someone in Cambodia asked the same thing. 

I could go on but will let the pictures do the rest of the talking. Since it takes forever to upload videos, I'll postpone most of them until I get a faster connection.

Revisiting the California Job Case and The Special Gazette

When I was a journalism student at the University of Idaho back in the 60s, one of my instructors, in what then was called a graphics class, had us making paper, learning typefaces, and setting our business cards by hand using the California job case.  Less than a decade after that, as a Peace Corps Volunteer, I helped start what my students say was the first regularly published newspaper (monthly) that included at least some Kinaray-a (in addition to English) articles.  That paper, The Special Gazette, lasted only a year after I had left the Philippines, a victim of high inflation among other problems.  Begun with a student staff, it persisted with a staff of fellow teachers at the high school.  It was printed at Pechueco’s, set by hand in a shop with museum-quality equipment.   

Some 40+ years later, on my visit, I revisited that shop—still operating with the same equipment, met with ViolettaPechueco, the owner still alive at age 80, and took some photos, which will follow.  They’re no longer printing a newspaper but exist on printing school forms and doing other local jobs that fit within their capabilities.  For my benefit, they put things into motion for a brief video I hope to include when I get a faster connection.  Ironically, several days earlier, some former students of mine from the PCV days, threw a party (complete with lechon---roasted pig, dinuguan—pork blood soup, and other dishes) at which they recalled working at my nipa house late into the night on the newspaper.  Apparently I used the phrase, “Expand on the lead,” more than once because it stuck in everyone’s memory.  My students, by the way, are now in their 50s, and it was a great delight revisiting those days and learning of their successes in life.  The hospitality everywhere has been abundant and appreciated greatly.

Photos of Typesetting from the Past

laying out a page

many shelves of type

setting type by hand

Scenes from the Sea Shore

In Malundog on a walk to San Jose

fishermen's boats in Malundog

building a boat close to the water.

Loading ice for a fishing trip in San Jose

San Jose bay area

surveying San Jose harbor

fishing boat on Madranka

children on Madranka beach

where we used to swim on Madranka Beach as Peace Corps Volunteers

Scenes of Culture, Part I

riding in a full jeepney....

church made out of coral in Anini-y.

goat at feeding time....they're everywhere.

political protest in the province...

walking home from school along a country road in Egana...

papaya trees in progress...

Internet "cafe" in San Jose, Antique

Aren't signs fun?

...the ultimate "third place"...

Scenes of Life, Here and There

one tricycle, many passengers

two tricycle drivers playing checkers with bottle caps

bamboo for sale

food on the street

the regal carabao, rapidly being replaced by tractors

remnants of a lechon feast in Hamtik

the calesa survives, for tourists largely

one way to make a boat float in the ocean...

hauling long bamboo

Scenes from Manila

TV reporter at demonstration outside Department of Labor

Pasig River near Binondo, now relatively clean, a big change.

fortune teller outside Quiapo Church

Street filled with vendors in Quiapo.

Intramuros, the old Spanish era walled city/fort.

Lovely Rizal Park (Luneta)

Quiapo Catholic Church

Imelda Marcos, holding her own at 82.

Mall of Asial, billed as world's third largest.

Los Banos

I taught here in 1983-1984 on a Fulbright.



a lovely campus



Entrance to University of the Philippines, Los Banos,
with the College of Development Communication in the background

Sunsets and Sea Views on Manila Bay

sunset from my hotel window on Manila Bay

...and another

...a morning view

The Cambodia File

Notes from Phnom Penh and Siem Rep

I had scheduled two nights in Phnom Penh before flying to Siem Reap to see the Angkor Wat complex, so it gave me time to relax and get a feel for the town before touring.  The hotel I selected, Hotel Castle, had been renamed Hotel Ohana and was a half block off the main drag that runs along the Tonle Sap River, which merges with the Mekong as you go south along the street.  The area is filled with restaurants, many on the roof tops, and sidewalk cafes and bars serving Tiger and Angkor beer.  Perfect place to put away my long pants and put on the shorts and sandals.  It’s a bit like stepping back in time, into the 50’s or 60’s. 

A 50 minute plane ride took me to Siem Reap, where I had two days of touring the sites with a most knowledgeable guide.  I think I’ve heard all the Hindu and Buddhist stories at least twice, and, after India, probably more than that.  But the temples and palaces are truly amazing and worth visiting.  I was early for watching the sunset at the top of one site, escaping before the multitudes but staying long enough for a couple good shots.  Probably the “coolest” site is Ta Phrom, where Banyon trees have grown up, in and around, sometimes supporting, the buildings.  My guide said the tree seeds scattered by the wind are washed away on level ground but get trapped, or stuck, amidst the rocks and buildings, where they take root and weave their growth into the structure over time.  Very cool place where my camera got a workout.  It’s worth traveling to Cambodia just for this site.

Cambodia, in particular Siem Reap, is a place where cheap tourists can thrive.  Years ago when I was such a tourist returning from the Peace Corps, I traveled on $4 a day, often spending less than a dollar for a space to sleep.  The price has gone up but there are all sorts of places that would fit the bill for such travel today, and I saw a lot of 20 somethings bargaining for the last 50 cents.  And, of course, you are expected to bargain.   Some 40 years ago, I had planned to visit Angkor Wat enroute home from the Peace Corps in the Philippines, but they closed it just before I could make it.  Finally made it.

I took the boat back from Siem Reap to Phnom Penh, a trip I thought was to begin at 7 a.m., when I arrived, but, I discovered, that tended to be a flexible starting time.  We left at 8:30 a.m.  There’s one class, basic, but they did pass out a bottle of water and two mini chocolate muffins, and we took turns sitting on top of the front of the boat, which deposited us a short distance from my hotel. 

In Phnom Penh, the next day, I toured the national palace where the current king lives, while his father, now 90 years old, survives in Beijing most of the time. Then we drove out to see the national memorial of remembrance at one of the sites of the “killing fields.”  I’ll attach only a couple photos, but it’s a somber spot.  Back to town, we went to “Former Office S.21,” the prison where they tortured prisoners before sending them out to the killing camp.  I hadn’t realized how much of the top leadership had studied in Paris and had joined the French Communist Party. 

Since I was a “party of one,” I had a guide and driver in both cities, with enough waiting time when they “had” to fill the gaps in conversation.  And, in both cases, I was trusted enough that they relayed their historical (and current) distrust of Thailand (for appropriating the Khmer heritage for “their” own), and distrust of the Vietnamese (and to some extent, the Chinese) for their domination of their government, business and politics.  “They” did not feel free to express publically their “real” feelings about the government, there’s apparent resentment at how the Chinese in particular show little respect for the environment in developing natural resources, and the Vietnamese for having bought up lots of real estate.  On the surface, the place is marvelous for tourists and visitors, particularly if you enjoy good food, a fascinating culture and weather for frequenting sidewalk cafes and roof-top restaurants in shorts and sandals, all at a price hard to beat.

From the Foreign Correspondent

An Australian couple on the train in India told me to check out the press club in Phnom Penh, which had a 50s feel, much like the train.  I asked the locals at several spots but was met with blank stares, until a fellow in the adjoining table asked if I was looking for the FCC, the Foreign Correspondents Club, which was just a couple blocks down the street.  So there I went, discovering an open-air, four story bar and roof top spot to drink and eat while looking out at the river.  I must note that folks were reading newspapers, in particular the English-language Cambodia Daily.  On my first stop I sat between a bunch of French folks, where the lady was having a Budweiser.  I ordered the local brew and later returned for the national dish, fish amok.  I ate it three times on my trip and it was different but delicious each time.  Later on in my boat trip back from Siem Reap, a British fellow of my age who had lived in Asia for most of the past 40 years (in banking) told me the FCC was started by the government years ago to try to keep journalists happy since they were having more austere places to eat and lodge.  He was familiar with the one in Hong Kong, and, I discovered a quite new one also was built in Siem Reap.  Since I’m blogging, I figured I had a “right” to frequent the establishment, which is largely just a bar and restaurant these days that’s popular with expats.  And Cambodia seems like a good place for expats—comfortable, inexpensive and friendly.

After India, the international influence seems to have grown, with all the usual commercial interests—Sony, the auto companies, even a Swenson’s ice cream in Siem Reap.  But there’s a nice side as well, with each temple in the Angkor area being adopted by a country for restoration.  A very sensible approach given what this country has gone through.  Some 70% of the present population was born after the Pol Pot genocide, so it’s remembered but as history more than experience for most folks.  The parents of my guide in Phnom Penh had lost all but one of their siblings (out of almost 20) to the Khmer Rouge, and he relayed stories that fit the pictures.   

Clearly, the world comes to Angkor Wat and Cambodia, but I detected more French than I would have expected.  And many times, hotel employees would mix in their Khmer greeting with Bon Jour.  My hotel had a few English-speaking folks, some other Asians, and a large group of French.  So the French have come back to visit the former French Indo-china.  This was enough of an excuse for me to have the “French buffet” at the Bougainvillier restaurant, my most expensive meal at $16.50—but well worth it.   I only turned on the television once in Siem Reap, to discover that they appeared to have a channel for every nationality they expected as guests, a strategy I’ve seen in many other places. 

Also discovered that the local folks were more into cell phones, and I saw numerous people using them to scroll or watch videos of one type or another.  And on the boat ride, on my way down the aisle to the backroom at the back, I saw two iPads, a Kindle, a laptop and several folks writing long-hand or reading paperbacks.  This was an entirely international group.  In one of what must be frequent ironies brought to us by technology, I found myself responding to a student’s thesis survey on SurveyMonkey for the neighborhood I live in home in Cleveland, while using Wi-Fi at a restaurant along the river.