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.
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