It is funny when people request me to update this thing, not realizing that time's meaning is very different in this cross-cultural setting. The days are over before they begin and the weekends feel as long as the weeks. In the timeframe I usually update this thing (around a week) I am supposed to be having experiences to write about, but time's slow pace makes this week deadline almost seem too rushed. Whatever, I will keep writing so that I can have two journals to look back on when my grandkids ask me what the hell I was thinking running off to a place with no cheese and chocolate flavored toothpaste (not kidding).
Although time seems slow and if feels like I could be getting a lot more done than I actually do, I still LOVE sitting on my ass reading yet another good book. Recent projects include Under the Banner of Heaven by John Krakauer, Waiting: The True Confessions of a Waitress by Debra Ginsberg, Emma by Jane Austen (Yes Dad, I am reading books by women too), The Tao of Physics by Franz Capra, and On the Road by That guy who spent a lot of time on the road.
This week the perception I had been nurturing of the Philippines as this gentle, slow place, full of friendly faces and slow change was suddenly thrown in my face:
There was a boy. Like most boys his age, he had a 21st birthday. Most boys his age get to see the age of 21 + 1/365 years. This boy did not. He was shot 4 times and killed. Considering the content and circumstances surrounding his death, I am going to cover my own pale, pasty ass by not putting them all here and making it convenient to find. If you would like my version of this story, comment on this post and I will send out a mass email to all interested parties; this way, you will only get the dirt if I know I can trust you (no offense to my anonymous readers, I just like following rule #1 to the letter and staying alive).
On a slightly less horrible note:
The volcano is getting pretty close to blowing its top like a middle schooler at his first dance with a "girl." Although the constant cloud cover makes it difficult to see the lava, the flow has now reached below the cloud layer; that is a relief in its own weird way.
"Yay, I can see the lava!"
"Oh shit, the lava is getting really close!"
"..."
"Yay, I can see the lava!"
I have also begun looking for my first apartment by myself. I never thought it would be on the other side of the world, but I have to start looking because all the rules and regulations of living in someone else's household are beginning to wear on me. I understand the right of a homeowner to be picky with their guests, but that does not mean I like living with that hanging over my head. Soon, Legazpi City party shack, complete with bowling alley and hot tub (aka, beer bottles, roundish rock and stove.)!! Come visit and I will show you at least 75% of a good time.
16823 people still have no idea what this refers to
5 comments:
Page I look forward to your journal as much as I do my daughters, I am Vanessa's mom. Yes I admit I am a lover of journals and letters, so reading yours gives me yet another view of that little slice of our world. I would like to know about the boy who shall never celebrate another birthday.
Page, I'd also be curious about the story. Also, did my package ever arrive? Hope so...
Yes, Page, let me know how this young man didn't get very far from becoming 21 before he became carrion. There are so many ways to become a piece of lifeless meat, and it is so inevitable, why are we all in such a hurry to get there/ put others there? It will come - no rush.
What was the impetus behind seeking your own apartment - did your host get tired of stepping across piles of stuff? Did he want you to clean your room?
Remember to get exercise - oxygen to the brain (yeah, yeah) - and you might need to stay in shape to RUN FROM LAVA, yes?
Love, MA
the abrupt turn-around of the birthday seems interesting, you have me very curious. also with all of the recent heightened TERROR security, i feel a little like you feel about the lava.
"all right, we thwarted an attack!"
"oh shit, we still don't know how to catch these people"
"..."
"...ummm, attack? thwartage?"
-Louis the XVIII
You sent Sally an account of the boy, but not to us.
If you can do that without compromising your self, please do so. We would like to know; we have followed
the pix of Mayon which are impressive; glad you're out
of the 'hood. Louis XVIII said it all for me.
Keep safe! Love Grandma B.
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