Expatriates in the Philippines

Friday, July 15, 2005

Let's Get Physical: Part One

In my last article, “Is She Jealous?” I wrote that the man who was always being controlled and yelled at by his wife should “slap the crap” out of her. No, I haven’t changed my mind in a Western-style PC Moment. I stand by what I wrote. Perhaps some of you who still live in the West don’t agree with me on that point. Too bad – keep it to yourself. Or start your own blog and express yourself for good or ill.
If you had been paying attention, and I know most of my readers are intelligent and always do – you would have also read the add-on, “as per local culture.”
And therein lay the point of this article: local culture and Asian customs.
You should understand that I have never beaten a woman in my life (although sometimes I think I should have when I reflect on my Americunt ex-wife’s disgusting behavior and indifference to anything beyond the perimeter of her own skin). I have only slapped a woman once – a Filipina who perpetrated a deep deception on me. I’m not a fan of violence and it doesn’t turn me on. I believe in and am dedicated to being a ‘gentleman,’ with all of the courtesy, decency, and respect for others and myself that it implies.
I am 59 years of age, and I come from a time and world that no longer exists in America - a semi-rural, farming environment that was, at the time, more of the 19th than of the twentieth century. The folks I came into contact with as a child were of a nature to be straight forward, self-reliant and self-determined. These good and simple people had an inner strength that didn’t require signs of other's acceptance. They were honest, trust-worthy and kind, with a courteousness that is currently so rare as to rate being on the endangered species list. It was all I knew. And to this day I appreciate that I was fortunate enough to have experienced that style of life in my formative years.
Later, when I was ten-years-old, my family moved to the San Francisco bay area. My father went to work for the San Francisco Chronicle newspaper. Whereas before, I lived in a spacious and mostly empty world of few people and lots of animals, trees and fields, I found myself in a crowded city of buildings, asphalt and cement, and surrounded by wild, unpredictable animals of the human kind. In all the years I lived in the bay area I found no more than a handful of people were even worth peeing on. I won’t linger long on how American life began to radically change (in no small part by the advent of television) in the late 1950's and 60's, and more-so in the current American incarnation, providers were replaced by consumers, courtesy replaced by rudeness, honesty by lies and deceit, trust by treachery, respect by disdain.
If you’re one of those ‘money and power at any cost’ kind of people who oppose kindness and caring with a finely-sharpened bottom line, then may you rot in hell for what you have done and will do to the people's of this world.
Now that you’ve been cudgeled with a little personal background on me, I can go into a little of family culture in the Philippines.
The following descriptions of Asiatic culture are no longer exclusive. Because of the global media - centralized in America - and the opprobrious desire by mostly myopic American religious zealots and even more recently, treacherous politicians seeking to force the ugliest portions of their own dark souls on all other nations, cultures around the globe are being transformed from their own national identities by what I call the "Hamburger Syndrome" - you can find the same one anywhere. Fortunately and thankfully, the older culture still remains the prevailing system.
I’m a firm believer that each country and culture has just as much right to their “way of life” as the one I came from. And the last thing I want to do is force them through fear or the threat to withhold needed funds unless “compliance” is met. Read: become like us.
While you read the following, bear in mind that I am writing of that portion of Filipino’s that follow their own culture and are either resisting or ignoring the Westernization of the Philippines.
Control is not the issue:
The family structure in the Philippines is and has always been patriarchal; for the most part, men run things. Women defer to men. It’s the man who will almost always have the final say in matters requiring a decision. Women are taught from birth to seek the blessings of, and to obey men. A Filipina wife will not go anywhere without first getting permission from her husband. She won’t go to the nearby sari-sari (small, general) store, to town, to the neighbor’s house - nowhere. Even when she has permission she will rarely go without a ‘companion.’ It may be you or her mother, her child, a neighbor or friend. If her husband isn’t at home, in all likelihood, she’ll wait for him to return before going anywhere, unless it’s absolutely necessary for something like timely food preparation. She may still wait anyway.
A married Filipina may stay inside the house and not ever leave it, other than to go outside to get water, gather wood, tend to animals, or care for her plants, unless it’s in the company of her husband. Celine was advised by no fewer than her mother, father, grandparents, aunties and other women relatives and friends to “Stay inside the house and take care of your husband. Don’t go outside to chika-chika (gossip) or go off anywhere without your husband’s permission.”
If a girlfriend drops by and invites Celine to go with her to visit other friends or maybe shop together, she will only go once she has permission. If I’m not at home, she’ll wait for my return.
If a wife is called to go to her parent’s house, and the husband is away, she will not go. I know of one woman who had cut herself rather badly while chopping wood and someone called for an ambulance. When it arrived she refused to let the driver take her to the hospital because her husband wasn’t home. The ambulance left and she waited for his arrival so he could take her to the hospital.
Did you guess it’s that way because of cruel, over-bearing and dominating chauvinist-pig husbands? If you guessed it was the men in her life, you’d be wrong. The one’s who have taught Honey Ko to stay in the house after marriage, to tend to the husband’s needs, and to always ask permission are women.
Women value the dominance of men because they find safety and stability and comfort in knowing that they have someone to depend on, and who will guide and protect them. They recognize that they are, in physical fact, less able to do the things that men do, and they still find value and importance in having men ‘take care’ of them. You could argue that men perpetrated a hoax by “creating” a dominant culture of and by men. But, if you were to do a poll and ask women if they want to be “freed” from a patriarchal culture – and if you asked women if they want to be equal to men and all that implies by way of doing men’s work and having men’s responsibilities; and if you asked them if they want to have men stop calling them “Honey (Ko),” and treat them as special for their important role in caring for the family and raising the children and teaching them the proper way to live, with honor and respect as moral and decent people – they’d laugh at you, the pollster, and not only tell you, “No,” but also tell you you’re crazy.
Women’s liberation is reserved for spoiled and pampered Western women, who pay others to care for them and their children so they can use their ‘maximized leisure time’ for their “Oprah moments” to cry and lament about how hard life is and how badly mistreated they are by men (those same men who are manipulated to work to get the money so their wives can lie beside the back yard pool and tell their husband to make his own damn lunch) – and spend $85 to have their nails painted with little swirls and stars by underpaid Puerto Rican girls.
It’s not for women who still wash and hang clothes by hand, cover their babies with reusable cloth rags for diapers, cook meals on top of a charcoal (charcoal made by the hand of her husband) stand, and work at night, mending and talking under kerosene lantern-light, who live in a bamboo house filled with flies and mosquito’s and wood-smoke in an attempt to keep the insects at bay - surrounded by a forest with no road access for an ambulance or pizza delivery man, only a long dirt path for friends and family to walk on through the forest when they want to visit – no telephone, and no way for police to get near the house to give or offer protection against robbers, rapists, thieves and murderers– no television to amuse oneself while lounging on an expensive and comfortable couch, eating micro-waved popcorn or cold ice cream and washing it down with cold drinks with ice-cubes clinking in the glass in a room flooded with electric light – without an SUV to hop into on a whim to go to town to spend unconscionably with a handful of credit cards provided and paid for by the very man they despise and belittle as being “too demanding.”

Filipina’s still depend upon their husband’s to protect them from harm. They don’t call the police and have the husband hauled-off to jail for slapping her when he’s just discovered she spent the rent and car-payment money on a new spring ensemble so she’d look cute at the golf course or at those leisurely lunches with the other spoiled wives and girlfriends. They respect their husbands and honor them. They don’t see serving and caring for a man as humiliation, but as a respectable privilege, and something to take great pride in.
When mothers, aunts and older female friends visit to a married woman’s house, they will join in to help with the wash and/or clean the house. They do not sit around stuffing their faces and talking about the stupid ‘men’ that are the husbands they agreed to “love, honor and cherish.” There’s plenty of advice from female visitors, but it’s along the lines of advice on how to better take care of the house, to better organize or clean. They usually advise keeping a good attitude and that ‘she’ should take good care of ‘her’ husband and make him happy.
That’s not to say there isn’t problems and that women stay no matter how bad things get. I’ve seen plenty of ‘runners,’ running from an abusive husband who beat his wife with fists and sticks, knives and bottles. Virtually to a man, every one of those low-life’s were devotee’s of Tanduay Rhum and Ginebra Gin. I don’t advocate wife-beating and detest those that do. And that’s not what this article is about. It’s about discipline and responsibility.
In the Western countries, the discipline, training and punishment of children is now controlled by the Psycho-Gods - Psychiatrists, Psychologists, Child Protection Services (run by the Psycho-Gods), etc., and through them the State, the courts and the police. Parents are no longer “in the loop,” but are merely relegated to housing and supporting the children, as well as pay the State to control you through taxes. Children do not answer to you, and you don’t have the right to do anything more to them in the nature of discipline than to yell ineffectually. If yelling doesn’t affect an obedient response and you go beyond “acceptable limits,” like a spanking, you’ll find yourself answering to a judge after a night in the jail-house. All American children are fully aware of their ‘rights” and know, also, that with one phone-call the cops will be at your door to haul you away for child abuse, and then the ‘child’ can be on his or her way out the door for a night of partying.
Fast forward those children to adulthood. No more need be said: you don't need to ne reminded of what you see all around you every day.
You and I are concerned with girls and women, so let’s leave the boys out of it.
Watch most any movie from the last 20+ years that caters to the youth market and you’ll begin to notice a repetitive cultural dynamic that one could easily call “training.” The girls always talk about how they can toy with the boys. “I can make Johnny do anything I want if I let him think I’m going to let him… you know. Of course I don’t go all the way. But as long as he believes he’ll get some, he’ll do anything for me!” They manipulate the ‘boys’ for their gain, all the while laughing at their stupidity. The ‘boys’ are nothing more than idiots with cars, money and hormones. They have little more purpose other than to be used to the ‘girls’ advantage.
The second noticeable dynamic is how physical violence is applied and its acceptability. It’s acceptable for a girl/woman (g/w) to slap, hit, pound with fists or with an object, or shove a boy/man (b/m) (over the back of the couch, hitting his head on the coffee table) whenever the g/w decides the b/m needs ‘punishment’ for his despicable behavior. The b/m will almost always be required to apologize for his bad behavior. The g/w will never apologize for her physical abuse of the b/m.
Let’s turn that around and look at it through the mirror, shall we? A boy slaps a girl. He’s done an unforgivable and unpardonable act. A boy hits a girl. He’ll usually later be beaten by a bigger, tougher man who “defends the g/w’s honor.” A b/m pounds a girl with fists or an object and he’ll die a violent death in the second or third reel. A b/m shoves a g/w and she falls, hitting her head – he must join the ‘pounder’ in death. The only act that will allow the offending b/m to redeem himself and live until the credits run is to profoundly apologize and state that he's “wrong” and that he’s so sorry, but he's learned his lesson and, "will never do that again." Film reflects a culture’s social mores. That’s a fact.
Now, what exactly did he learn? Girls can do whatever they want and a boy or man must accept that ‘right’ of females to have her cake and eat it, too. She may discipline and punish him as she pleases. On the other hand, he may only do things to a girl or woman that is acceptable to her. He has no right to either discipline or punish. A man’s only real choice, if it can be called that, is disenfranchisement. That is, he can walk away.
But walking away has its own punishments. For, most assuredly he will pay greatly for his act in the divorce-court system when half of everything he has worked all his life for will be legally handed over to Betty Sue. Years will pass and he’ll still be paying through alimony and possibly child support.
So what’s the final analysis of Western “culture?” The State controls your public, private and family life. Women rule men because they hold the keys to the kingdom between their legs, and men find more value in nookie than within themselves. Lastly, men have no real power (unless you’re filthy rich and can afford to buy your way out of trouble. See: O.J. Simpson and others). But you are allowed to hold the chamber pot.
No wonder beer and porn are so popular.

Part two coming soon

Monday, July 11, 2005

Where's Paradise? You're looking at it. Posted by Picasa Click to enlarge

Celine and niece, Danika. Posted by Picasa Click to enlarge

Celine in a nice 1950's calendar pose.The dress is from India.The legs are from heaven. Posted by Picasa Click to enlarge

Celine with family members. No bathing suits in the RP. Posted by Picasa Click to enlarge

Way white n' pushin' 60. My father-in-law on my left; a kind, good man. My "Copper City Cafe" T-shirt (Bisbee, Arizona) PhotoShop work. Posted by Picasa Click to enlarge

In A Whirled Of Slings And Arrows...

Dear Friends,
I want to thank all of you who wrote to express your good wishes and happiness concerning my darlin’ Celine’s lack of injuries from the altercation with the 'Jealous Woman' whom I wrote about in the last article, Is She Jealous? I admit, I was surprised to hear from you. It seemed just like good neighbors or friends being concerned about one of their own. So thank you for your gracious, kind words.
When I opened my mail I found a number of email’s from my readers waiting to be read. Some made me smile, others laugh. I called Celine to my little work-space, “Darlin,’ come here a moment.” She did. I said, “Sweetie-pie, you’ve got friends!”
“You’ve got friends, darlin,’ writing about your fight with that crazy woman. Look at your fan mail.” And I read them to her. She just half-grinned and shook her head; she’s still pretty mystified by the Internet and world-wide connections to other people.
I read one from someone named Mark, I believe, as I got it from his email address, and the email was unsigned. In part it read, “I'm thinking it may be a long while before that lady steps on anyone’s toes again! Sounds like Celine opened a large can of Whoop Ass on her!” The portion, “…can of Whoop Ass,” really made me laugh because it’s so American in its slang and meaning, and I was thinking about how I’d explain that to Celine. Well, Mark, I did my best with, “It means ‘to beat someone vigorously’, or to ‘kick someone’s ass’ (which she understands somewhat), or to have a one-sided fight in which one person does all the beating and the other person does all the suffering.” She only looked at the wall, and I could see by her thousand-yard stare that a “large can of Whoop Ass” made no sense to her at all. It was lost in translation and the humor slipped by while I struggled to give it meaning. It’s all part of the scenery in the loving collision of two cultures.
I should tell you all that Celine saw that woman and her husband at NCCC the other day. Celine told me the woman had a very angry face, and was trying to get over to where Celine was pushing her cart, but the man had a firm grip on her arm and kept jerking her back to him. Celine just ignored her.
You know, I forgot to mention that in one of the previous episodes when that same stupid woman went to Celine and told her to stop flirting with her husband, Celine told her, “I’m not interested in your husband, he’s far too ugly for me to be interested in. And if you don’t want you husband to look at me, you should put a paper bag over his head and lead him around.” Naturally, that only enraged her more. Women can be an unfathomable breed. Filipina’s can be down-right strange sometimes.

I’ve never heard of some of you good folks before, and that also surprised me. It seems my blog has a following I was unaware of. Few people write to me to say they like what I’m writing or my writing style, or what they want me to write about, what they’re interested in, or what information they hope to get out of my blog. You mostly come to my site and then you go again, silently. That’s fine; I’m not here for the praise. But sometimes my impression is that no one is out there in that pixilated ethereal egg-shell where my blog resides. It would be nice if you sometimes left a foot-print that told me, like in an old Tarzan movie, when I kneel over a smelly piece of scat and glean information from the aroma and the warmth, “Hmm, people have passed here recently.” Of course, Jane would only look upon my odious endeavor with open revulsion and then make me wash my hands.

I am grateful, though, for the nice email’s to and for Celine. It was very nice. Thank you.

This morning I went to the hospital to have the stitches removed from my finger. It looks fairly good – at least there’s no infection. Now I only have a piece of gauze tape covering it. It makes it somewhat easier to type without that miniature punching bag that tormented my keyboard. When I asked Dr. Maypa for a clearer understanding of whether a nail would ever grow there again, he back-stepped and said he didn’t know if one would or not. “Come back in two months,” he said, "and I’ll take X-rays to see if there’s still nail growing. If there is, then I’ll have to open the finger (Again!) and cut out the cells that produce the nail. And we’ll see if I need to carve the fingertip to make it slimmer." No more driving into door-jambs for me. Having to see the local saw-bones' just ain't worth it.

Ya’ll come back soon, too, in your quiet way, because I’ll soon have another article posted entitled, “Let’s Get Physical,” which will probe deeper into the cultural differences of strict discipline and obedience, family roles and corporal punishment between East and West. Plus you’ll get a much abbreviated look at my own upbringing (How I developed my less than standard American personality) and, lucky you, a few of my personal opinions. Sticky stuff, that – sharing opinions. Best of all, however, you’ll get some first-hand opinions from Celine and insight into her thoughts on family, a wife's behavior and place, and some women's need for a good beating. I think you may be very surprised at what she has to share.
Could you help but notice the new pictures of Celine, above? Most were taken last week – some in Santa Cruz, Palawan where her family lives. A few were shot at my rental house, and the beach scenes were taken in Makirawa to the north of Puerto Princesa. Also, take a close look at the bamboo house (I’ll show more soon) and notice how it’s built. Like most “houses,” it was built from natural local products taken from the forest and hand built by the owner. If civilization ever falls apart (easy there, George!): while the great majority of Westerner’s in general and American’s in particular will simply sit down and die from lack of handy-craft ability and “good service” from those who now keep them well-fed and groomed, the Pinoy will just go on as usual. Minus the cd’s and television.

I just fired-up my DSL to go to ETP and post this, and my email program spit out six more email’s. This one came from Jim E. Thank’s, Jim, for the nice words. Golly-Gee!

“Rik, you don't have to apologize to us, your readers! It's not as if you exist only to entertain or inform us... Your dedication and your honest character are a value in themselves! But we DO appreciate all the info! Jim E.”

Yer welcome, Jim. And good fortune to all of you.

Friday, July 08, 2005

Is She Jealous?

About jealousy and
how the Filipina mind works.
Now, there’s a lot of Filipina’s that are jealous in the extreme. I don’t recommend that you attach yourself to this form of cat; they can be more troublesome than a "Freddy" nightmare and cause you endless headaches and problems.
It’s difficult to know in advance whether your Honey Ko is going to be a violent hot-head. If you find yourself involved with this type of overly-jealous woman, I recommend that you put a stop to it as soon as you make the realization . That kind of jealousy works to Honey Ko’s advantage, as she will, in effect, be controlling you, what you do, where you go, who you talk to, and so forth. If you know and choose to live with Honey Ko anyway, shame on you. You deserve what you're willing to accept.
If she tries to use anger and jealousy against you, you should respond by being a strict disciplinarian and train your wife to obey you instead of repeating the sins of your own previous training of servitude by Western women. I can state without reservation that you will regret allowing Honey Ko to express her jealousy and rage to you in private and, worse, in front of others in public.
You are either a leader or a follower. There’s no in-between.
One way you might learn about her level of anger and jealousy before you commit to living with your Honey Ko is to go out in public, like going ‘malling.’ You can let your eyes rove and make eye contact with other Filipina’s. This will happen anyway, as many Filipina’s will be ‘eyeing’ you. If you let your eye linger, your Honey Ko will most assuredly notice, just as she’ll notice the looks and smiles other Filipina’s give you.
If Honey Ko goes into a rage with you or attacks the Filipina that is smiling or just looking at you - or if she's attacked even though she's unaware you were looking at her - you should run, don’t walk, away from Honey Ko as quickly as you can. You don’t owe her anything (yet) and, again, she won’t be the only one who wants you.
In the west you may have to go begging for dates - you may even be turned down and be humiliated every single time - but in the Philippines you will have as many dates as you want or can handle. In the Philippines, you are an object of great desire. Once you truly understand that, and once you experience the culture of Filipina submission, you will never, ever want to be with an Americunt again.

Many Filipina’s would steal you away from Honey Ko in a New York minute if they could, and so a smile and letting her eye linger with yours is a good way of letting you know that she’s receptive to you. You should know by now that, in the Philippines you will be or are a highly valued commodity and you can have your choice of thousands of Filipina’s. So, sticking with the first Filipina you meet, and especially a jealous and angry one, is not only un-necessary, it's just plain crazy.
Having written that, here’s what happened to Celine two weeks ago:

Celine came home with a great story to tell me about her trip to the pelengke (open market) in San Jose barangay ( a sort of neighborhood or district) where she went to see her sister off. The bus terminal's also there. Going around alone isn’t often done. Being with or having a companion is a standard practice in the Philippines, so it’s natural that Celine would take her sister, Rebecca, to the terminal. Rebecca had to buy vegetables before she caught the bus, and Celine wanted to get some mangos.
While Celine was picking out mangos, an American man who always ogles Celine whenever he sees her in town, approached to talk to her. His opening line was to ask her if I was an American or a German. She had noticed him a number of times in the super-market, because her attention was captured when she heard the man’s wife always yelling at him when she'd catch him staring at Celine. At times, when he felt he was not being observed by me or his wife, the man would smile and even wink at Celine. He’s had a long-term hard-on for her. Sometimes the wife would approach Celine and demand that she stop flirting with her husband. Celine finds the mans personally repulsive and has told the wife so. But the wife just doesn’t listen; she’s too intent on feeding her jealousy.
Lots of men stare at Celine as she has one of the finest body shapes in all of Puerto; men are always staring at her, and she's always being approached by foreign men. In the last four weeks, Celine has been approached by five different American men offering her houses and cars and money if she would just become their woman, even though they know she’s with me. They don’t care. She only slaps them and tells them she’s married.
This time, however, the man actually talked to Celine while his wife had her back turned and was a few yards away, occupied with buying vegetables and fruits. Suddenly the woman appeared in front of Celine and viciously stomped her 3-inch high-heel onto Celine's toe. Celine reacted without thinking and forcefully shoved that woman hard with both hands. The wife fell backward and landed against the mango stall, which collapsed and spilled all of the mangos onto the ground. The woman was lying on the ground and Celine jumped on her, straddled the woman and clamped her own legs around the woman's legs to keep her from kicking. Then Celine grabbed two handfuls of the woman's hair and began smashing her head onto the ground, letting go with one hand occasionally to slap the woman's face. Celine even grabbed a smashed mango and was rubbing the woman's face with it.
The woman was screaming and blood was running from wounds on her head from Celine’s pounding it against the rocks on the ground. The husband took hold of Celine by her shoulders and tried to pull her off of his wife, but the woman screamed at him to "stop moving!" because every time he pulled, Celine just pulled the woman's hair all the harder. Celine turned her head and bit the man hard on his forearm, turned back and bit the woman on her shoulder.
The woman's sister saw what was happening and went to her sister's rescue. She ran over, knelt down and grabbed Celine by the hair. Celine, while pulling the wife’s hair, and biting the husband, pulled off her 2-inch heeled sandal and began beating the sister on the head and neck with it. All the worse for that sister, the rubber pad that covered the bottom of the heel came off and there was a small nail sticking out of it. Celine was beating that sister with that nail and blood was flying everywhere. Apparently Celine punctured the woman's aorta on her neck and blood was gushing out from the wound.
Eventually, two policemen ran up and pulled the man off of Celine, then the sister off of Celine, then Celine off of the wife. Celine jumped up, put her sandal back on then stomped her heel, with the nail protruding, hard onto the wife's toes. Then she turned and kicked the husband in the knee, While he was bent over, Celine slapped him hard on the face before the policeman could stop her. It turned out that the man's knee was already damaged from an earlier injury, and Celine really hurt him rather badly.
When it was over, the man, his wife and her sister all needed to go to the hospital to be treated. Both women were bleeding from head and neck injuries, and the man could barely walk.
And Celine? She didn't have a scratch on her, but her head was a little sore from having her hair pulled. One elbow and one knee was a little sore, but I couldn't see even redness on either. All I could find was some minor scratches on Celine's neck.
The police asked whose fault it was, and the wife said it was Celine's fault for flirting with her husband. But the stall owner and other witnesses said the husband approached Celine and that she acted as if she didn't want that man to bother her (which she didn't, and even refused to shake his hand). They all pointed to the wife as the attacker.
The police asked Celine if she wanted to press charges (make a case, in local parlance) against the trio. Celine declined, but requested that the police officially record the attack and give the trio a warning to leave her alone in future. If the woman ever bothers Celine again, she'll have her arrested.
The mango seller, on the other hand, was really pissed-off and not only wanted to be paid for her stall being broken and the loss of about one large basket of
mango's, but she wanted to 'make a case' against them.
The wife refused to pay when she was told the seller wanted P2500K (about $50) for the damage. So the police hauled-off husband, wife and sister to the police station to be charged by the accompanying stall-owner’s sister. The husband was really angry with his wife, as Celine overheard him say to his wife, "Look what you've done, you stupid woman. You know I'm having money troubles right now, and now I have to pay for all of this damage and the hospital bills, as well!"
He admitted to the police that the fault was his wife's, adding that she's an extremely jealous woman. He said she's even jealous of her sister when he talks to her. In my opinion, the fault is entirely his, however. He should slap the crap out of his wife - as per local culture - and make her behave. But apparently he's more of a woman (a girlie-girl, as the “Governator,” Arnold Swartzenegger, would say) than his wife, and lets his wife wear the pants in the family. If he's going to be a woman, he should stop looking at and flirting with Celine, and other's if there are others he does look at.
The by now large crowd was exclaiming about Celine: "Did you see what that skinny woman did to those three people? She has no muscles and she's so skinny, yet she beat all three of them and made them bleed. She's as strong as a horse! Rebecca, Celine's 15-year-old sister, who didn't help Celine because she's 5-months pregnant, told Celine that it looked like Celine had ten hands, all flying at once, and she was amazed to see Celine ripping the wife's hair while beating her head into the ground, biting the husband and beating the sister on the head with her sandal all at the same time. Laughing, Rebecca, told Celine, "That woman's face was completely yellow from you rubbing her face with that mango. It's lucky for her that you didn't push that big seed down her throat! How did you do all of that?" Celine couldn't explain because she didn't remember doing any of it.

I was aware of that man’s appreciation of Celine, as she’s pointed him out to me a few times at NCCC, the local (laff-laff) supermarket. I’ve heard his wife screaming at him, ridiculing and embarrassing him in public. He was always completely cowed by his wife. I didn’t go yell at him or threaten him for looking at Celine. One: he’s got good taste if he’s looking at Celine. What man wouldn’t? Two: he gets more than enough punishment already from his domineering wife. His wife had approached Celine and threatened her two times before when she noticed her husband ogling Celine. Celine was unaware that he had been looking at her.
He’s not the only one who looks at Celine. If I wanted to waste my time being jealous and start fights with all of the men who look at Celine, I’d have to make it a full-time occupation. I know I have nothing to worry about; Celine is strictly a one-man-woman, and she’s not interested in those men’s offers of cars and jewelry, etc. Material things just don’t interest her. She only wants a strong man who will be strict with her and love her. Lucky me.

This situation has occured at least six times before, that I’m aware of, by other women. Men are always looking at and admiring Celine. But here’s the very strange cultural kicker. The women almost never get angry with their husbands, but focus their rage on the other woman (Celine) – the opposite of Western women’s attitude. It doesn’t matter, as in the case of Celine, that it’s the man whose eyes are straying and roving up and down Celine’s body. It’s always the other woman’s fault, and an attack and fight can break-out with unannounced swiftness.

So, give some thought to that hot little Filipina you are with, and watch her carefully. Pay attention to her behavior. Make time and effort to ascertain whether she wants to be subservient and obedient to you, or whether she prefers instead to control you. Freely and easily expressed private or public anger and jealousy is an excellent indicator of her true nature.
And, most importantly, don’t be in a hurry to commit, through marriage, to the first woman you meet - - or even the second… or the fifth. Be discriminating, and make good choices. You have to keep reminding yourself that you’re not in America or Britain or Germany; you’re in the Philippines (RP), and there’s tens of thousands of women of all ages and sizes and levels of beauty just hoping you’ll glance their way and approach and talk to them. You may meet a few like Celine who are already taken, but one 90-degree turn and a few steps will lead you to yet another beautiful Filipina to talk to.
Whatever you do - don’t be a fool. Stay in charge. You’re the boss. Keep it that way. Either that or simply stay in America or wherever you are now, and let Linda Lou push you around and keep you begging for even more degradation.

Ladies of the pool. Posted by Picasa Click to enlarge

Country estate - Pinoy style. Posted by Picasa Click to enlarge

Harbor coin-diver - to support her children. Posted by Picasa Click to enlarge

Calbayog trike. Posted by Picasa Click to enlarge

Pungtud waters - warm and clear. Posted by Picasa Click to enlarge

Bugasok Falls. Posted by Picasa Click to enlarge

Mea Culpa

A brief apology and personal note

To my readers: I’m sorry I disappeared for so long and let the site sit idle. Has it been so long? Time flies whether you’re having fun or not.
I wandered off in other directions. A constant electric supply in the Philippines is at best precarious. For some reason the power supply here in Palawan has been abruptly shutting off from one to three times a day for almost three weeks. The supply (220 VA) fluctuates up-and-down wildly most every day, as well. That means every time I’m writing and it shuts down I lose not only all of my unsaved work, but my system, motherboard, etc., is also affected. I’ve been having pc problems and have had to have it worked on. My monitor’s capacitors burned-up due to the fluctuation of the current. I thought I was going to have to buy a new monitor, but by good fortune I was able to be introduced to a technician who has experience in that area, and he was able to put in new capacitors and restore my monitor; it works like brand new, now. It was the most expensive pc-related labor bill I’ve had to pay so far: $30.00 for labor and parts. Cheap living in the RP. I lost more than a week because of the problems.
As some of you know, I’m an artist, among other things, and I play guitar, sing, draw, sketch, etc., and work in PhotoShop manipulating photos and creating my own images. I veered-off on a PhotoShop ‘jones’ after being away from my site for that short while and became immersed in downloading and practicing with new tutorials about working with PhotoShop, ImageReady and website creation. It was so much fun for me; I was spending all of my time at it and ignoring everything else.
Nachurly, I have to devote time to my darlin’, Celine. She’s as patient a woman as I’ve ever met, and to her credit she’s never once complained about all of the time I spend on my computer. I’m such a lucky man to have her with me.
I also had to put some time in on other business ventures: I own a 35-foot fishing banca (boat), and I had to fire a kapitan and make other changes. I also have a loan business and a rice buying-and-selling business that Celine mostly takes care of for me. But I do have to give it some time now and again. I’ve been tied-up spending time looking into buying a rice store.
There are other things. One of them is having my smashed finger (see earlier writings) operated on this last Monday (07-04). Now I’m writing to you with a giant bandage on that finger – and it’s neither fun nor easy. Here’s the update:

About four weeks or more ago my finger started swelling and hurt like something was stabbing it. A very small bit of fingernail began growing out of one side on my finger a month or two back, but it looked like it was growing sideways across my finger instead of toward the tip. It was growing from a recessed cavity - a hole, if you will - in my finger so dirt and grunge was getting in there and it was hard to keep clean. I thought that the sharp (pointed) edge was growing under the skin and flesh, causing the pain. I went to the doctor on Monday. We went back to the emergency room and into a room where he pumped my finger full of anesthetic and sliced the finger open length-ways from mid-way between the first and second knuckle to the tip. then spread it open using a clamp. We both looked inside. There was the nail growing under the flesh just as I thought. But the doctor kept spreading the finger wider and more nail just kept coming into view.
The doctor took another clamp and grabbed hold of the nail and started twisting and pulling on it. He ripped it from the nail bed and kept pulling. When he was done he'd pulled out a huge fingernail the size of a normal nail in width and about a quarter-inch in length, though jagged like a serrated knife. Wow! I was stunned that so much nail had been growing underneath my skin.
The doctor says the nail won't grow anymore since he tore the cells away that produce nails as they were attached with the nail. I don't know, but I hope so.
There was no way to save the nail as it wouldn't have grown normally due to the misshapen finger I now have. I have a huge gauze and tape wrapping around my finger as I type this.
I returned to the hospital Wednesday morning and the doctor looked it over and changed the dressing, It seems all right. I go back again next Monday.
The doctor did a better job on the finger than I expected... but then I didn't expect much. If I had been in the States I probably could have saved the finger from being so badly mangled and also had an intact fingernail. But I'm not there, so I'm happy he didn't just chop it off, as would probably be the case for most poor Pinoy because they would have to depend on the horribly inadequate socialized RP hospital-system and grossly incompetent doctors. There is a very low level in most doctors’ skills and knowledge here, especially in the Province’s. And Dr. Maypa's the best doctor on the island.
Now, because of the way the doctor put my mashed finger back together, the finger-tip is very big and it's difficult if not impossible for me to play the guitar without that finger touching and deadening one or two of the other strings.
I spoke to Dr. Maypa on Monday about carving out some of the flesh on the tip of my finger so it would be slim again. He said he thought it was just swollen and would become smaller and wanted to wait. Well, he's the doctor... but I knew, and know, that there's no swelling associated with the tip of my finger - and which the doctor acceded to Wednesday. He said that he would carve the finger if the fat shape of the tip doesn't change. So I'm sure I'm going to have to have the finger cut open once more in the near future and have the meat cut out of the tip.
I do like to play the guitar. Call me crazy, but it's worth it to me.
As you might now realize, I have a life beyond ETP. Also, I haven’t heard from anyone in some time except for Jim (and I’ll go into his story more in an article). Things have been very quiet. It doesn’t inspire me to write when you, the readers, don’t let me know you’re there.
I got an email from “rrcarpio” today. He wanted to know what happened to me, why I haven’t written lately. Well, now you know, rrcarpio. My question for you, however, is “Why haven’t I heard of you before? If you enjoy reading my blog, why don’t you leave a little message and let me know you’re there?” It would give me more reason to spend more time writing and adding to the site if I think someone is visiting. Otherwise, what’s the point? I already know what I need to know about living in the Philippines with a Filipina.
‘Nuff said. A new article or two will appear soon. Rik