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“Happy Wife, Happy Life” – or Maybe Not
“Happy wife, happy life.” This and it’s corollary, “When momma’s happy, everyone’s happy,” are cliches we’ve all heard a hundred times and as with all cliches you hear a hundred times, at some point they become meaningless and we just nod our heads idiotically at their assumed wisdom.
OTOH, if you have ever been married to an American woman there is something about the aforementioned cliches that scratch an unfortunately itchy place for the average American man. There’s an implied threat to the cliche – that is, what if momma ain’t happy?
That’s why when Janet seemed to throw out said cliche last night over dinner I did a double take. After all, I hear often from men married to Filipinas to watch out for the Americanization of their lovely brides. I’m usually not too paranoid about this alleged problem but as I say, I did take notice.
“What was that you said, baby?”
Janet repeated, “Happy life, happy wife.”
I let her remark soak in and then began giggling.
Avoid by using cock ring substitutes; rubber bands, binder clips, and vices, order cheap cialis for instance, bring about too much constriction. Clearly, there’s an ongoing argument http://icks.org/n/data/ijks/1482467285_add_file_8.pdf discount cialis between the choice of driving school, i.e. whether in the classroom or online, you will be equally prepared for the in-car driving portion of your training. Most clinics will keep up you 24 to 72 hours for review and after that exhort you viagra canada no prescription what they think will help you ahead of the pack takeoff. This drug is an effective anti-depressant drug buy viagra in spain that helps to stop ejaculation while sleeping. “Why are you laughing?” she asked.
“The actual quote’s the opposite,” I said, telling her the real cliche and then asked her what she had meant by quoting it.
“Well, when the family’s happy, the wife is happy,” she replied.
“Exactly!”
A classic example of the difference between Filipinas and we Americans.
Retirement: “The Decision” – (Hey, if LeBron Can Do It…)
If you’re a reader of this blog it should come as no surprise that I not only love my Filipina wife, Janet, but love the Philippines as well. Since I am approaching retirement and can almost taste it I am ready to announce that in a couple years Janet and I will be taking our talents, not to South Beach as LeBron once did, but to the Philippines. I’ll get into my reasons shortly, but first a bit of convoluted background.
Nine years ago, at age 53, I was divorcing. There was a nearly infinite list of things I had to pull off to survive the life change for myself and my two youngish kids. But a year later I popped my head out of the ground and looked around at a new life. I had obtained a nice job (I was a contract employee previously, and self-employed before that), had medical benefits (no Obamacare back then), a new house with a giant mortgage which I could pay (barely). The kids too had survived the trauma and were prospering. We had just taken our first vacation together as a threesome.
The only thing that seemed impossible was retirement. I always had mixed feelings about the classic American retirement scenario anyway. For one thing when I was young and nuts I was sure I would never live to retirement age. I worked a series of jobs which paid squat and then was self-employed, which paid squat + 1. I got married and had kids and drank the American koolaid which stated that anything above and beyond the bills had to go to the wife and kids.
But I did have a bit of fortuitous luck. My then wife, better known here as Ex Number Two, had a bit of money. In point of reality, her parents had a bit of money, which she knew (and told me constantly) would someday be hers. Therefore the attitude tended to be that whatever we saved would be supplemented by my inlaws impending demise.
Besides the inlaws cash, I told myself, I was smart, had talent and someday would strike it rich, either by selling a novel or screenplay, or if that didn’t work out, I was surely clever enough to rob a convenience store.
I actually had a screenplay with genuine Hollywood producers (a story for another day) but somehow didn’t exactly make Spielberg money.
So, I found myself at 54 on my own and finally doing OK. I did have a 401k and it actually had almost a thousand dollars in it. I began to do the right thing and started to save a small amount into my retirement fund. I did the math and found at my current pace I could successfully retire at 85. I resigned myself to working till I died.
At the same time I had decided to fulfill one of the biggest goals on my bucket list – an African safari. I went to Kenya, and after a life changing experience on safari, spent a week relaxing at a beach town named Malindi. I loved it there and met several European expats living on their pensions. Based on their encouragement it occurred to me that I could live in Kenya on my Social Security plus my 401k, that is if I started to save like a madman.
I came home excited, began to save more into my retirement funds and dreamed of the possibilities. The only thing I worried about was women. As a guy, I know that makes me unique.
I wondered, whether as an ancient retiree/expat there would be the opportunity to have romantic relationships with even semi-attractive women. After all, I’d have the vast Social Security windfall. And so I went to the Internet, where all good things are discovered, to find information about multi-cultural relationships between geriatric old farts and – well anyone.
My search led me to a forum, run by a complete nut job who exemplified the old adage “those who can’t do – teach.” The men there, of varied ages and mental illnesses, discussed the pros and cons of living and dating in a variety of foreign countries. Asia was a hot spot and the Philippines seemed to get more comments than any other country. Like most Americans, I knew virtually nothing about the Philippines, but was a quick study.
As I have documented before, I found my mentor Pete, one of the few non-nut jobs on the forum, joined Cherry Blossoms at his recommendation, and met my darling wife, Janet. And the rest as they say, is history.
Many men travel to the Philippines to find the love of their life (or sometimes a few dozen loves of their lives) but have nothing but complaints about the place. But for me, as a experienced traveler, I found that I loved not just Filipinas, but the Philippines itself and began to wonder whether this was the place to spend my dotage. I can now state that it is!
———-
Most of our reasons for choosing the Philippines as a retirement destination are pretty ordinary and straightforward. So here goes the list in no order of importance:
The Family: Unlike some expats I am not looking to avoid Janet’s family. I like them. What’s more surprising is that it’s possible they like me. Of course, once we move there, they will get to know me better, so that might change.
Most importantly is that Janet will be close to her family. She can see them whenever any problem or bit of drama occurs. Since she has nine brothers and sisters, I expect that to be often.
In case, you have a condition like diabetes then you might be cheap women viagra interested to know that the nearby Tatton Park hosts the North West Food Lovers Festival between October 19 – 21 which dovetails with some of the Chester Literary Festival. It is only the men who get affected with sexual disorders such as Erectile buy generic levitra Dysfunction have a strong connection. viagra brand online Some companies are supplying free sample in this regard. Put all of these questions into an email and you want to forward it on to other people the polite way to do this is to be followed. https://www.unica-web.com/watch/2010/marivanna.html viagra shipping Cost/Style of Living: This one’s obvious. The cost of living is much cheaper, especially if you are willing to avoid living like a rich kano. If you can’t avoid those things (Western foods and drink, luxuries, girls and more girls) your pension will be gone before you will be.
But even more important to me than the cost of living is the style of living. I have written about this before. In the West how much crap do we buy because we can, or to fill up a hole inside us, or because cash is burning a hole in our pocket, or because all our friends have the same crap? In the Philippines, while I have no desire to live in a Nipa hut, the pressure to buy all sorts of stuff is dwarfed compared to the pressure of going to the beach or hanging with friends and family, or chasing Janet.
I have already begun my simplification process. I’ve eliminated all sorts of things that I used to do and buy without thinking much about it. Therapy at $135/hour – gone, to be replaced by my sweet partner, the aforementioned relaxing beach, and a San Miguel or two. $50 haircuts – gone, along with my hair.
My criteria for eliminating things is – will I be doing/buying this in retirement? If the answer is no, I’ve dumped it. Amazing how much I have saved.
The People: I don’t want to rag on all Americans nor pretend that all Filipinos are wonderful, but in general I like the people in the Philippines or at the very least, I like the difference. I do not want to be one of those expats who only hangs out with other expats.
The Sun/Heat: Apparently this is a getting older thing, like retiring in Arizona or Florida. I hated the sun and heat when I was young. If it broke 80 I was unhappy. Now if it’s under 80 I am unhappy. Janet and I freeze in the fall and winter and dream of it getting warmer here. When it finally does and her bones warm up, she won’t let me turn on the aircon. I am sure saving electricity is her motivation 🙂
But I dream of a retirement where it is always warm and the ocean, pool or shower can cool me off if necessary.
Service: No, I’m not talking about customer service in the Philippines, which is legendary, though not necessarily great. I am talking about service oriented providers. Today we had a clogged drain and called the plumber. Including my frequent-plumber discount I paid $330. In the Philippines it might have cost 330 pesos.
Housekeepers, yayas, yard work, plumbers, mechanics, etc. all are inexpensive in the Philippines. Of course there is always the issue of finding a good person, but that hassle can be navigated, particularly since as a cheapass I will be thinking about the savings.
Adventure/Travel: I still love travel and adventure. With 7000+ islands I figure I’ll have to live to 150 to see them all. Sounds like a plan. That and visit all the Asian countries that are easy to get to from the Philippines.
I still have an adventuresome spirit and while I might not be interested in death defying stunts, I am interested in exploring a new world. And while Janet grew up in the Philippines, she’s really not seen much of it. I can’t wait to experience it together.
We might even do a bit of sleeping, as shown in the picture above.
Happiness: It sounds hopelessly sappy but Filipinos are fundamentally positive and happy people. Despite the poverty of many, they are happier than most Americans. I look forward to having some of that rub off on me. In point of fact, it already has.
Next Decision: Where? After all it’s a big country.
Flying the Confederate Flag in the Philippines
To quote that radical leftist, Richard Nixon, “Let me make one thing perfectly clear.” I am a card carrying liberal, though this week perhaps I have misplaced my card. (Update: I am no longer carrying that card.) I say that because I don’t agree with the current nuttiness over banning the sale of the Confederate Flag. Bare with me here because I am going to try to make my case, all the while bringing it back to being married to a Filipina, which ought to be quite a stretch.
I have been thinking about this for the week or two the issue’s been raging, and finally knew I had to speak out when yesterday TV Land canceled reruns of The Dukes of Hazzard because the Duke boys’ iconic car, The General Lee, had a Confederate flag painted on the roof. I mean the show has been out of production for 35 freaking years. It’s been in daily reruns for that entire time. It never got axed despite some logical reasons that it ought to have been: namely, that it was one of the dumbest shows ever to grace the airways; because it’s villain was actually named (I kid you not) Boss Hogg; and because the show’s hottie, Catherine Bach, is now as old and wrinkled as – well me. The corpse, on life support for 35 years, finally had its plugged pulled based on a paint job.
The corpse, on life support for 35 years, finally had its plugged pulled based on a paint job.
For godsakes, Mattel pulled The General Lee toys off the shelves. Pretty impressive that a toy based on a show on the air when the kids’ grandparents were young is still a hot seller. Lot of racist kids out there, I suppose.
Now, I have no love for the South, whether of the modern or good old boy variety. Frankly I’ve only been there a few times. The first time was when I was in college. We drove to Miami on spring break, a right of passage taken by most east coast college students at least once. It was the 70s and long haired and bearded, a car full of us arrived at the Florida state border where we stopped at an inspection station.
I was driving. The guy in the booth gave me a long look. “Where you boys from?” he drawled.
“New York,” I answered brightly.
“Figures.”
Welcome to the South.
I just tell this story to make the point that I have no innate love for that part of the country. I am sure as hell not dying to re-visit South Beach or check out where Forrest Gump grew up in Alabama. I have a very good friend with property 40 miles outside of Tampa that he intends to retire on. He was actually nice enough to wonder whether I would like to retire there as well. Now, as I say he’s a great guy, so I don’t dare tell him the truth; that I would rather retire six feet underground than outside of Tampa.
But that doesn’t mean I’m in favor of banning the Confederate flag.
My reasons aren’t that complicated and have nothing to do with the First Amendment. If people want to get around that pesky Bill of Rights or even repeal the amendment, what do I care. I am old and cranky and will say what I feel like saying anyway.
Frankly, this flag crap is just a substitute for what we (and I definitely include me in this) would really like to do – take away the guns, not the flags. Sounds like a new slogan for the NRA: “Give up your flags, not your guns.” Because that’s the real issue. We can’t get the guns that actually killed those 9 people in that Southern black church. So let’s feel good, instead of impotent, by getting the flag, or in the case of the Dukes, the car.
I am sure that some people who know me might find my stance a bit strange. As a Jew, born post-WW2, wouldn’t I be offended by someone flying a Swastika, you might ask? Nope. I would be happy to have every anti-Semite fly such a banner. It’s no different from holding your hand up when the teacher asks, “Are you an idiot?”
You all know the story of Passover, right? Ok, maybe not. Each Jew in Egypt marked his door so that the Angel of Death would – you guessed it – pass over that house and kill only the Egyptian first born. Hey, it’s not called the Old Testament for nothing.
BTW, don’t get me wrong. I am not speculating that every Southerner that owns a Confederate Flag is a racist. On the contrary, my guess is that Daisy Duke, lying on top of the General Lee in the above picture, was an equal opportunity gal.
But let’s assume for the sake of argument that every cracker that owns a Confederate flag is a dyed in the wool racist. Good. Now we know who they all are.
I simply don’t understand the basic idea here. Do we actually believe that if you get rid of the symbol or ban the utterance of certain words that you ban the thought? Or more importantly if you could in some magical way ban the thought, would you prevent the horrific actions based on that thought? Hmmm…perhaps you can – it certainly worked in 1984 and Brave New World. OK, on 2nd thought maybe it didn’t.
I am on a few too many forums and you would be amazed at how many racists and anti-Semites there are, who speak matter of factly about their views on blacks, Jews, gays and every other group. They do that because, morons that they are, they believe that their anonymous user name, Lynchemall, makes them – well, anonymous. Apparently they haven’t heard of IP addresses.
So by all means get on the Internet and spit our your views or fly the Confederate flag and hang Hitler’s portrait in your living room. Next time the Angel of Death comes, she won’t be passing over your place.
———-
Part of this debate is our innate notion that people act rationally. Many don’t. There’s a great scene in Schindler’s List where the women are in their barracks discussing the rumor that Jews are being sent to camps and gassed. The women refuse to believe it. One woman says that it makes no sense since Jews are essential workers for the German war effort. “You don’t kill your workforce.” This is the way a rational person thinks. But hatred and murder are not rational.
So one irrational person thinks he can change the world by killing black people. The other irrational person thinks he can change the world by banning the first guy’s flag. And BTW, there are millions of people living today who still do not believe the Holocaust even happened because – it sounds so irrational.
So how does this all relate to the Philippines and Filipina wives? I have written about this before. Filipinos aren’t politically correct in the way that we are. If you ask the average Filipina what she thinks of say, Japanese and Koreans, she will probably tell you in no uncertain terms that she doesn’t much like them. The Japanese occupied the Philippines during WW2 and even though Janet and her peers barely know what WW2 was they know what the Japanese did and don’t like them.
And Korean tourists? Don’t get a Filipina started on them.
When Janet arrived here two years ago I was sometimes shocked, though frankly admired, her unvarnished opinions. But it scared me. I encouraged her to be careful about what she shared and with whom and tried to explain the sensitivities of some Americans. In those two years she hasn’t had any problems and she doesn’t censor herself. I am not sure how she gets away with it. She tells her co-workers directly when their work efforts leave something to be desired. OK, she does the same thing to her husband. The co-workers still like her; the husband still loves her.
What we in the West call prejudice or discrimination exists and is open and above board in the Philippines. Go into Ayala Mall and see how many clerks you find over 30; none. And it’s completely legal. Same with flight attendants. Janet says that in the Philippines, “These people with things in their nose who look like a goat cannot get hired in food service. Filipinos don’t want them serving food.” So, many forms of prejudice are accepted in the Philippines. I have mixed feelings about it but frankly, when I want a Coke on a flight this is a pretty nice thing.
BTW, Janet has become well aware that there are Americans who don’t like Filipinos or Asians in general. And there are certainly Americans who may judge her based on assumptions they make about our age difference. She has no problem with it, believing that people have the right to their own opinions, as long as they’re respectful to her personally (and God help them if they’re not – lol! ).
Maybe there’s something to this tell the truth business.
But just in case the truthful communication between groups doesn’t work – let’s stop giving everyone guns.
P.S. Let me be clear once more that while I have nothing against the existence of the Confederate flag, I am against it being flown at a State House, which is supposed to represent all people.
PPS. I just noticed that golfer Bubba Watson, who owns one of the original General Lees is going to paint over the Confederate Flag. I guess this genius, who paid $110,000 for the car a few years ago, didn’t notice the offensive flag covering the car’s roof when he worshipped it on TV or when he bought it. Apparently there is a reason he’s called Bubba 🙂
Dave’s Tips For a Successful Fil-Am Marriage – Volume 1
It recently occurred to Janet and I that we are approaching our 2nd anniversary. This blog was originally dedicated to describing the joys of a newly-wedded Fil-Am couple. At almost 2 years I may have to change the focus to a mature and experienced Fil-Am couple; cranky even (OK, that’s just the male half of the couple).
In addition, in my previous forays into marriage I visited many couples therapists. Usually these pleasant engagements occurred when my ex would sweetly say, “honey – go with me to therapy or get the hell out!”
I counted the other day (this is how exciting my daily life is) and came up with six different couples therapists I have seen, though fortunately none with Janet. In addition, there was the couples therapy group I was a member of for several years. Of the eight couples that worked successfully together to improve their marital lives, I am pretty sure that one or two pairs are still married.
The point of all this is that clearly I am now an expert in the area of Fil-Am marriage (and marriage in general) and so finally feel capable of dispensing “Dave’s Tips For a Successful Fil-Am Marriage.” Read it at your own risk. You have been warned!
1. Learn to speak her language: No, I am not talking about learning Tagalog or Visayan, though that’s not a bad idea and I know one or two guys who have actually learned to speak Filipino well enough to not be laughed at throughout the Philippines.
Me? Janet has taught me the Visayan words for all the body parts (or at least the good ones) as well as a few intimate acts. When Janet told her mother what she had taught me her mother yelled, “Why would you teach him that!” Because it’s fun – that’s why. At age 62 I now get to talk dirty in a new language and am having a blast.
But actually what I meant when I said you should learn her language – is English. English, you ask? That’s what we Americans and Canadians and British and Australians speak. That’s the language our Filipina brides ought to learn better. That’s the language we, as native speakers, ought to be teaching our Filipina brides. Wrong!!
Don’t kid yourself: it’s not your responsibility to teach her English. It’s your responsibility to learn her English! Think you’re gonna get her to stop using terms like “nosebleed,” or “open/shut the light?” Nor could I ever get Janet to stop calling me “Sir Dave.” Come to think about it why would I want her to stop 🙂
Despite the fluency of many Filipinas, English can be tricky. Lately, Janet’s gotten into baking. The other day she asked if she could find “coqua” here. She described it as a chocolate baking powder. I assured her that chocolate baking powder was easy to get but I didn’t know about coqua. “I’ll look it up. How do you spell it?”
“Cocoa,” she answered.
“Oh, you mean cocoa.”
“No, coqua.”
“Don’t worry. We can get some Hershey’s coqua at the store.”
So bone up on your Filipino English, guys. You’re gonna need it.
2. Find the best place for lechon: There’s the old adage “a way to a man’s heart is through his stomach.” In this case your silo of a stomach is irrelevant. You’re a kano; you can eat whatever crap kanos eat. But she will miss all of her native foods.
Before Janet arrived I thought I had done the right thing. I’d bought a rice cooker, and a good one at that, and scoped out several Asian markets and a Filipino restaurant. ‘That should do it,’ I thought. Wrong! Despite the stereotype that they are poor Filipinas who mostly subsist on rice, and only white rice at that, her palate is as varied as yours; for example, sometimes KFC will do and other times is has to be Popeyes 🙂
But seriously, just as if you lived abroad you might miss a New York steak, your fave gouda, or if you’re me, Kraft Mac and Cheese, she will miss all her favorites. Sometimes you will look everywhere and find something and declare “Eureka! I found it,” only to be told that that brand isn’t very good. Janet has been trying to find a good chicharon (pork rinds) for 2 years with no success. Sure we can find chicharon but not the good stuff. BTW, for those really interested, Carcar is the chicharon capital of the Philippines, so if you want the good stuff it’s only 8000 miles (and a 2 hour drive south of Cebu City) away.
BTW, for those really interested, Carcar is the chicharon capital of the Philippines, so if you want the good stuff it’s only 8000 miles (and a 2 hour drive south of Cebu City) away.
You can include leafy greens such as kale, collard greens, turnip greens, spinach levitra prescription and roman lettuce in your daily diet. http://cute-n-tiny.com/tag/monkey/ commander levitra These symptoms may appear for months or years. In the midst of all this male levitra online cheap thing, our hair starts to drop out and, almost without exception, we start to go bald. It cheapest viagra in australia has a user-friendly website (you will find the link below) and with a few clicks of your mouse button. Sometimes it’s the simplest things. When we first arrived Janet wanted corned beef. No problem, I told her, and picked up a can of Hormel’s. “Yuck,” she said. “This is not corned beef.” “It says corned beef and it’s made by Hormel, the king of junk meat,” I replied.
All the Asian stores we have been to do not carry real Philippines corned beef and Janet has been missing it. But then a miracle happened. A couple weeks ago for her birthday a friend brought Janet a couple of tins of corned beef. A certain amount of begging was required to get the friend to reveal her special source. These are the sorts of things you must do to keep your wife happy and avoid the couples therapist, who wouldn’t know where Filipino corned beef can be gotten anyway.
3. Get to know (and like) the family: I know, I know. You married her, not her family. You have enough troubles dealing with your own family and if you’re like me you deliberately live thousands of miles away from your ancestral home and return rarely. And of course you and your bride live many thousands of miles away from the Philippines. And even if you two eventually decide to live in the Philippines, you will heed the words of many wise expats and live two islands away from the family; that’ll keep you from having to deal with them. Umm – not quite!
Janet has nine brothers and sisters and while it’s taken two years of intensive study, I now know all their names and pretty much know who is who. Since I am told about them in intimate detail, I figured I might as well learn to accept that fact. So should you.
But if you’re fool enough to listen to me, you ought to take it a step further – get to know the family and like them.
We’ve returned each year to Janet’s hometown in Alcoy and frankly the family, while happy to see Janet, seems fascinated to see me. Actually, they seem most fascinated that I am interested in them and wish in some small way to be part of them. As I’ve detailed before, the kids are shy, but watch what I do like a hawk.
I suppose when it comes to the family, the greatest fear on the part of many husbands of Filipinas is financial. We hear horror stories and figure the easiest way to not have our cash parted from us, until we’re cold and dead, is to stay far from the family.
While I suppose it’s a risk, I just don’t agree. Get to know her family, her friends. Soon they will spill the beans on your bride and tell you everything imaginable. You want to know everything don’t you? No? Then why did you marry a Pinay?
And if someone asks for money (that you don’t have or don’t wish to give), describing in their best English what they need the money for – tell ’em you’re having a nosebleed.
Tip of the Day: If you’re visiting or moving to the Philippines and are worried that everyone will think you are the aforementioned rich kano – well, you’re right. Every cousin, hell even lolo, is on Facebook. They know the car you drive, the clothes you wear, the square footage of your house, what version of iPhone you have, etc. Why? Because you are an idiot and post all these things!
So what’s my tip? Think Jed Clampett. Remember the Beverly Hillbillies, where Jed had something like $60 million, back in the day when $60 mil was real money? Did he drive a Mercedes, dress in Armani, and post it all on FB? Nope. Here’s how he rolled. Do the same and you won’t be considered the rich kano. Or, only somewhat rich 🙂
Why Do Ladyboys Firedance in Boracay?
As I mentioned in a previous posting, after initially deciding not to go to Boracay, Janet and I changed our schedule and spent five days in the most popular tourist beach in the Philippines.
Boracay has a lot of pluses: a long, white beach; island hopping and snorkeling; decent restaurants and hotels; dinner served on the beach; nightly free entertainment; massage places every ten feet. You can eat and drink yourself to exhaustion (and I did).
After 5:30PM the beach is magically transformed into the Philippines largest and longest restaurant. Each restaurant and hotel gets a strip of beach and sets up tables. Cute Pinays call to you as you walk by to check out the menu or buffet. All you can eat buffets line the beach; you can typically eat all you want for $10 or less and many sell two drinks for the price of one.
Each night two of my strongest characteristics clashed; my fundamentally lightweight drinking vs. my cheap-assed love of the bargain. The latter generally won and my standard one San Miguel became two. Most of the buffets served lechon and Janet was overwhelmed by the notion of unlimited lechon, a concept far removed from her upbringing, where lechon is a prized treat only served on very special occasions.
As you can see from the photo, one buffet advertised “organic lechon.” When I asked what made the pig in question organic, I was told that it was fed vegetables. Sounds organic to me 🙂 Janet actually said that it tasted different from standard lechon, but that didn’t stop her from going back for seconds.
As darkness set in and the tables filled with patrons, the music and entertainment began. The Philippines, known as one of the karaoke capitals of the world, where romantic 70s music is revered as if brand new, is also a hotbed of very talented singers and musicians. Go to most Asian cities and you will see imported Filipino musicians. On the beach in Boracay the musicians were plentiful and of good quality; that is if you’re an old fart like me and want to hear the tunes of yesteryear.
But in addition, bands of fire dancers entertained and generally brought in bigger crowds than the singers. The fire dancers in the Philippines are almost always ladyboys. I asked Janet why most fire dancers are ladyboys and got what would in the West be a politically incorrect answer; something about their loose limbed style of movement.
For that matter the moniker, ladyboy, would be highly incorrect here, yet the term is pervasive in Asia. Considering the Philippines is a conservative and Catholic culture, ladyboys, and indeed all manner of “alternative” cultures are accepted and enjoyed in the Philippines. I am not saying that they are as accepting as we aspire to be in the West, but I suspect that they are more accepting than we actually are.
Causes behind erectile dysfunction can be either a levitra brand cheap few days or a few weeks. If you are suffering from sexual problems and you are in this position then order cheap viagra the most important thing that these men are doing is reviewing various options for erectile dysfunction treatment. Some other factors related to ED are high blood pressure, pain, or prostate cancer, consumption of alcohol, chewing tobacco, and intake of illegal drugs Lack of sexual health price viagra among is of impotence or erectile dysfunction. The most discover this link viagra online consultation common side effects of Lipitor are headache and nausea. But the bottom line is that despite the title of this piece, I don’t really know why ladyboys are firedancers in the Philippines, but it seems to be a pretty good skill to have and tips given by spectators were substantial. It’s a job opportunity here guys 🙂
—–
I really love snorkeling and so island hopping is something that I look forward to when I come to the Philippines. Because I had injured my finger the first day we arrived and the doctor that patched me up discouraged me from getting into the ocean for a week, Boracay was my first opportunity to snorkel.
You can hop on a boat with a bunch of other people or find a private boat, which is what Janet and I did. The prices are reasonable and in my experience the vendors do not conform to US laws; that is price fixing is the norm. I actually found the system to be a little bit different from when I was in Bora 3 years ago. I didn’t pay the boat; I was led to a table where I paid and was given an actual, real life, no shit receipt, after which we were taken to the boat.
The snorkeling was fun if not spectacular. I think the most fun was that after I climbed back on the boat after a tiring dive, I saw a man in a small kayak paddling toward the snorkeling boats. Who says Filipinos aren’t creative business people? The man rowed to each boat yelling “ice cream.” He had a cooler in the boat. Now if only he’d had a cooler filled with San Miguels.
One of the biggest negatives in Boracay is the price of hotels. I guess most tourists want a fancy hotel and room with all the amenities. If you need this you’re going to pay. Janet and I are too cheap for such luxury. I want a decent bed, aircon (it was April, which is summer in the Philippines) and a shower with decent pressure and warm water.
So, for the second time I stayed at the Island Jewel Inn. The room is the size of a postage stamp but it has all the amenities we want. It’s not right on the beach (maybe 200 feet away) and best of all it’s located in Station 3, which is a 10 minute walk away from party central and consequently a place you can actually sleep. Actually, best of all is that at $50/night, it met our cheap-assed traveling budget.
Another improvement I noticed since three years ago is the process of transferring to Boracay. It’s still mass insanity but there is now a sense of organized insanity. Here’s how it works: you fly into Caticlan, take a car/van ride (just a few minutes) to a ferry, take the ferry to Boracay, and then a van from the ferry station to your hotel. Almost everyone sets up the transfer in advance. The transfer company grabs you right off the plane and tags your shirt like you’re a new student in the first grade. Hundreds of people are thrown into vans, then various ferries, and then onto other vans for the ride to your hotel. Only in the Philippines could such an insane system actually work. The price was not horrible, although every porter along the way wanted a tip. It ended up being easier just to grab our own bags.
Overall Janet loved Boracay, but after 5 days we’d both had enough and were anxious to get back to something that resembled the real Philippines. More on that with my next installment.
One more positive regarding Boracay. Before our trip I had scheduled my annual physical for the week we arrived home. When we got home I was worried. After all, I spent three weeks eating and drinking. I am a lightweight drinker and literally had more beer than I have ever consumed. I figured my blood work would be through the roof. Imagine my surprise when the tests came back with my cholesterol down and the doctor saying “whatever you’re doing, keep it up.” I didn’t have the heart to tell her that what I was doing was eating pork, drinking like a fish and chasing my young wife 🙂
“When in Rome” Don’t be a Kano with your Cash
Here’s a bit of a tip that it’s taken me 7 or 8 trips to the Philippines to start to understand.
A few weeks ago we’re in Camiguin at Ardent Hot Springs. BTW, the Ardent pools are very nicely done and the cost of entry is cheap. The water is not hot – it’s bathtub warm, but do you really want 110 degree water during the summer in the Philippines?
So I am lazing in the hotspring and struck up a conversation with an Aussie of my age and his Filipina partner. Not sure if they were married or not and not sure that it matters.
Anyway, the conversation was about cash, retirement and cost differences between the Philippines and our home countries. His partner chimed in that the biggest mistake that “foreigners” make was that we too often “convert” to our own currency.
My first thought was to disagree. I am very good at math and grew up in an era where I actually learned to multiply and divide in my head without electronic assistance. Therefore, whenever I travel internationally I always quickly determine costs based on the almighty US Dollar.
But my new friend disagreed, stating that you must consider costs in pesos not dollars. I remembered a story I have told before about how Janet and I once argued about an overcharged taxi fare in Dumaguete and how I resolved that argument by saying, “Do you realize we are arguing about a fare that cost us $6.”
But now I have come to see the woman’s point and agree with it. If something normally costs 100 pesos you should not pay 300 pesos, despite the fact that from a USD standpoint the difference is tiny.
In other words, stop being a tourist and act like a Filipino, particularly if you want Filipinos not to treat you like a rich tourist.
Tips are a good place to start. I am old enough to recall a time in the US when tips at restaurants were based on good service, not on a set percentage of 15 or 20%. It is still that way in the Philippines. While I won’t tell you, dear reader, what kind of tip to give, I give a Philippines-appropriate tip.
Janet is particularly pointed in this regard. If the service is good she wants to make sure I gave the person a few pesos. If the service is poor she will ask me afterwards, “Did you give her a tip?” If my answer is yes, I get “the look!”
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Many goods and services are negotiable in the Philippines. Hell, it’s almost insulting if you don’t negotiate. I usually throw out some kind of stupid line like “Is that your best price?” The price usually goes down without much argument. Do not feel that because the price is less than you would pay in your home country, that you are taking advantage of anyone. You are not! On the contrary, you are supporting them.
For example, like most old farts I like a massage once in a while. But I am too damn cheap to pay $60 – 100 for a massage in my home city. But it’s one of the things I look forward to in the Philippines, where even in a tourist trap like Boracay, a massage is $10 or less. Oops there I go again. Massages in Boracay are typically 350-500 pesos.
The first night we were in Boracay, I walked the boardwalk area and looked at massage prices. In general, the massage places on the beach are cheaper than the ones in spas by about 100 pesos. The next day I returned. As I say, since I am basically cheap, I was going to have one of the beach massages. But Janet and I passed a spa that looked very nice. I looked at the menu of prices. Massage – 550 pesos. I frowned and that’s all it took. The woman in charge noticed my reaction and immediate said, “discount for you, sir. 400 pesos.” Sold! I asked whether they also did nails, since Janet wanted her nails done. Yes, I was told. “What’s your best price?” I asked. The price was magically reduced. Janet and I were led to a very pleasant room where we both lay on adjacent beds. I received a massage and Janet had her nails done. I spent an hour moaning while Janet laughed at me and spoke Visayan to the girl doing her nails. It was very pleasant, particularly since we paid an appropriate amount. The service was excellent and we tipped the women accordingly.
This concept of not converting currencies is not just applicable to inexpensive service items, like taxis or massages. It applies to everything. The housing market in my home town is pretty hot again. My buddy just bought a place and proudly announced that he’d gotten it by paying 15k more than the asking price. It’s great for him and his family, so don’t get me wrong.
OTOH, don’t do this in the Philippines, where the asking price for real estate is often an opening offer, no more valid than the 550 pesos that massage was supposed to cost.
Last year while we were in Alcoy, we stumbled across a very nice house for sale. The owner invited us in. Why not? We got the nickel tour and the place was in fact very nice. Out of politeness and curiosity I asked “how much?” “Six and 1/2 million pesos – firm,” I was told. “What about for cash?” I asked. “Oh for cash – six million.” Firm is apparently a fluid concept in the Philippines.
We left the house and I mistakenly gave the woman my local number. She assumed I was a real buyer and I got texts from her daily. It became annoying. Finally Janet laughed and said, “Just offer her 5 million.” I texted her back, “Sorry, but my wife says our budget is only 5 million.” I figured that would shut the woman up. Wrong! In less than five minutes I got a response, “We will accept 5 million, sir.”
So, think in pesos not dollars and remember, the price ain’t the price, and firm rarely is.
But also remember – that 5 million peso house sounds like a great deal, but only if the woman actually owns the house – another problem to consider in the Philippines.
Bits and Pieces from Our Philippines Adventure
We just got back from our three week vacation to the Philippines and now that I am sort of un-jet lagged, here are some random thoughts. Expect more in depth and profound ramblings, pics and videos later (if ever).
Philippines Weight Loss Program:
Like most Americans on vacation, Janet and I ate like pigs. Particularly in Boracay, which I will cover in a future post, all you can eat dinner buffets are held on the beach with a typical charge of less than $10 and include two San Miguels for the price of one. I ate and drank till I could barely walk back to the hotel.
Yet after a week or two Janet kept saying, “you’re losing weight.” I had to agree. The money belt was getting looser and not just because I was removing money from it.
I got home and sure enough – I was about 4 pounds down. This despite the fact that I am a lightweight drinker, yet drank more beer than I have ever drunk in my life, ate mass quantities, including eggs nearly every morning, and had plenty of ice cream (it’s cooling in the heat after all).
I have to assume that the reasons for my loses involved more activity, lots more sweating, more fun and less stress. Oh and there’s the fact that I didn’t spend 8 hours a day in a cubicle – that might have helped. And all this despite the fact that the Filipino diet is not considered the healthiest going, what with tons of rice and lots of pork and yummy barbecue.
Nonetheless I see a book in my future. Perhaps I’ll become one of those dieting tour operators.
My Inlaws Protect Me:
I hate the expat argument about dumb Filipinos and have written about that before. Dumb expats – there are plenty. Dumb inlaws – don’t kid yourself. Wherever we went Janet’s younger siblings watched everything I did.
Alcoy is a small beach town of 15,000. Public transportation, in the form of trikes, are everywhere. The trikes are regulated and have a sticker inside listing the rates: 8 pesos/person here, 10 pesos there, etc. Let’s just say it’s a damn cheap if uncomfortable way to travel. In fact the kids take a trike daily to go to school. Why not, I took a bus.
So everywhere we went Janet and I and whatever siblings we were with would pile into a trike. One thing you’re not getting is safety. Janet and I would get into the trike sidecar and a kid would hop on the motorcycle behind the driver. And BTW, no one wears helmets.
As a lazy traveler, at the end of a ride I would simply ask Janet how much to give the driver. “40 pesos,” she might say. I would give him a 50, thank him and walk away.
The next day the kids told Janet’s mom, “Uncle Dave was overpaying for the trikes and didn’t even ask for change!” What Janet hadn’t taken into account was that the rate for children was less than an adult and that 40 peso fee might have actually been negotiated down to 30. Janet’s mom assured them that Uncle Dave was merely giving the driver a tip. BTW, the 10 peso “tip” was equivalent to $.25. I’m nothing if not a big tipper.
Nonetheless I appreciated their concern regarding my money and told my young BIL that the next time I was in Alcoy I was gonna make him my business manager, in charge of determining what was proper to pay.
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Even before discovering the Philippines I had done a bit of international traveling. Trying to be safe (or at least fooling myself into believing I am acting safe) I travel with a Pacsafe wallet, one of those travel wallets with a chain. I also have a travel belt. It’s a simple thing with a hidden zippered compartment where you can stash your vast kano wealth. It’s always funny because I get off the plane and while in the airport immediately go to a money exchange kiosk. The clerk watches in amusement as I remove my belt and take out the hundies that are all scrunched up in the belt. Unfortunately in the Philippines you never get more than 1000 peso notes (about $25). Anything more is unusable in the real world. So let’s say you stuffed 10 hundreds in your belt. You now have 40 1000 peso notes and after you place them in the same belt you end up looking like the Michelin Man.
Here’s what was funny on this trip. When we arrived in Janet’s home town of Alcoy, several of her younger siblings asked if they could spend a night with us at the legendary BBB (Bodos Bamboo Bar). It’s a small resort, which in provincial Philippines means it’s a series of native bamboo cottages. It’s actually nice, the restaurant’s decent and we enjoy staying there; but the Hilton it ain’t. But for Janet’s siblings – it’s another world – and a world of luxury.
Janet’s younger brother stayed with us one night. The next morning I showered, dressed and did the general morning routine. I unlocked the room safe and removed my travel belt. My BIL watched me do that but did not see me remove a few 1000 peso notes from the belt. I replaced the belt back in the safe and locked it.
The next day Janet told me that her brother said to their mom in Visayan, “Uncle Dave has a really expensive belt. He keeps it locked in a safe!”
LV Bag Shopping:
The last day of our 3-week trip was spent traveling by bus from Alcoy back to Cebu. We checked into our hotel and had a quick lunch. It was now 1:00 and truth be told I was exhausted and would have happily rested and gotten ready for the early morning flight home. But I knew that wasn’t gonna fly.
We had a half day to hit a mall in Cebu and I could not let Janet miss such an opportunity. So we grabbed a taxi and went for a quick mall shopping excursion. BTW, I don’t think it’s my imagination but the traffic in Cebu is worse than ever. We crawled along.
Janet normally loves Ayala Mall, but as we passed Parkmall Janet told the driver to take us there. Janet quickly scored quite a few inexpensive and nice clothing items.
We went up to the second floor of the mall which is set up bazar style. Dozens of tiny shops filled with fake clothes, Nikes, watches – and bags. To my untrained eye these looked like pretty nice fakes. It’s well known that often fakes are made in the very same Asian factories that produce the real thing. As an Oregonian, headquarters to Nike, and it’s subsidiary, the University of Oregon (lol), I had always wondered how poor Filipinos could afford expensive Nikes. OK, I’m an idiot – now I know how.
Janet hit every shop but saw nothing she wanted. Surely, I suggested, a high end bag was in order. My ever practical wife reluctantly agreed. She entered a shop which was LV Bag Central, with more LV bag options than a real LV store. I think she was handed every single one by the two eager sales clerks who knew a rich kano trying to satisfy his wife when they saw one 🙂
Finally Janet settled on the one she liked. “How much,” I asked. “4500 pesos,” I was told. “No way.” “2500 pesos,” she said. I scowled. We settled on 2000 pesos – about $45. Janet went away very happy and I went away relieved. I also had a plan.
Recently I wrote a blog piece about jealousy. Among other things I talked about what happens when a Pinay posts pics of an expensive acquisition on Facebook. So we went right back to our hotel and I took pics of Janet’s latest present and posted them. But I did include a note which said, “To finish our trip off in style Janet deserved a special present. I had to use all my negotiating skills to get it down to 2000 – pesos, that is 🙂
I was amazed that many of our friends didn’t get the joke and really assumed Janet had scored the real thing. Clearly my friends don’t know me as well as they should 🙂
First Experience With Health Care in Philippines
First, let’s start with the basics: I’ve never had a stitch in my life. Never broken a bone. At 62, I’m pure and pristine.
I’m an amateur guitar maker and have sliced myself with chisels, knives and a saw or two. I cleaned up the blood, patched myself and moved on.
Endulge me me while I make a non-Philippines aside. Skip it if you want; but you’ll regret it.
It’s a guy thing, this pretending not to be hurt. I knew a carpenter who years ago apprenticed with an old school craftsman. The old guy was from Sweden as I recall. Had a garage day shop. Completely old school he didn’t even own a phone. But a bandsaw he had.
One day working, that bandsaw sliced off a small tip of his finger. Not one to waste a day he wrapped the finger tight, dropped the tip in his shirt pocket and finished his day.
His routine was the same daily. He walked from the garage to his house, took off his clothes and climbed into the shower. While showering his saint of a wife grabbed his dirty clothes. She did the same this day. The finger tip fell out of his shirt pocket. She screamed, fainted, and struck her head unconscious.
Panicked, the old guy knew an ambulance was needed. Course he had no phone. Naked and wet he ran next door to beg for a phone.
Ok, I’m not this bad. Yesterday we arrived in Cebu. Jetlagged and exhausted I attempted to open a new spray bottle of sunscreen. Usually scissors are used to cut the plastic ring. Damn no scissors. But then I remembered that I had brought a nice Kershaw knife to give as a passalubong (present) to my father in law. I dug it out of my suitcase to break the ring.
You can imagine the rest. Janet yelled at me “don’t do it that way” as the knife slipped. I can now tell you from personal experience – Kershaw makes a fine blade.
We actually got the bleeding to stop and wrapped a couple band aids around it and went to breakfast. But I was nervous. At 62 cuts don’t heal like when I was young if they heal at all.
So reluctanly we went to the hotel front desk and inquired about a doctor. Turns out the hotel has an onsite nurse. The young man examined my cut, cleaned and re-bandaged it professionally, made chit chat about how long we’d been married and whether we had any kids. In the end he pronounced, “you’re gonna need stitches,”
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Total cost for the nursing care including tip: 50 pesos ($1.20) .
We grabbed a taxi for the bumper to bumper 30 minute ride to Cebu. Janet, ever the practical wife, asked the driver to take us to the hospital nearest to Ayala Mall. Janet loves Ayala Mall .
We went into the emergency room at Cebu Succour Perpetual. Within minutes of taking my sordid story I was in a room with an actual doctor. Ok, the guy looked 20 but his ID said he was a doc. And hell, since I’m told that Janet looks inappropriately young, how can I complain.
I told the doc my story again and added that I have never had a stitch in my life, “and I’m 62,” I added dramatically.
“I don’t think you need stitches,” he replied after examining the wound. “A special bandage is cheaper.”
I gave him a look which said, “I am a rich Kano. I don’t need the cheapest treatment.”
“It’s quicker and will heal faster.” Sold! A tetanus shot was also required, as were scripts for a couple of meds.
We were out in a half hour. Total cost for the excellent service: $9. Ok, the meds at a pharmacy were $30 more.
But all in all a great experience but one which I will never live down. OTOH I’m still stitchless and perfect lol!