Wanderlust Heaven!

I had a couple more days and nights in Cebu before heading off to the States. I quickly found myself missing new girlfriend Marnely, who had taken good care of me in Dumaguete. It looked pretty likely that I’d be back that way before long, so I didn’t fret – just had some lascivious daydreams.

While I rode in a taxi from the ferry boat to my hotel, I saw a guy dressed like Santa taking a shit behind a pile of garbage. That warranted a second look…my eyes weren’t deceiving me. I told you that Catholicism in the Philippines was entirely different from our version…

The larger point, though, is that the country is poor, Cebu has lots of beggars, and while it’s easy to stay within the walls of your hotel or airconditioned shopping mall, the true story is to be found on the streets. You may not want to confront reality 24/7, but you should make sure to do it every day for at least a little while. Keep it real.

Did my usual slew of errands during my one full day in town. Went to the two big scuba shops – ScubaWorld and White Tip. Picked up a coil lanyard for my underwater camera case, and also a little compass that might come in handy one day – below or above water. Did some laundry. Reconfirmed my flight bookings. Made a hotel booking for my next trip to Cebu. Finally, washed my backpack thoroughly, with soap and sponge – I tend to do this right before I head to the States, so that what I bring home isn’t too grungy. It’s surprising how clean my pack still looks – I guess I’ve been good about washing it off regularly.

Was staying at the Kiwi Lodge, a great hotel I’ve often frequented. The only drawback is that it’s not that easy to go for a run on the surrounding streets, but it’s possible and tonight I went for it. It was godawful hot and I wilted pretty quickly. I probably only ran a couple miles before slowing to a walk and hoofing it back to the hotel. Still, it was much better than nothing and keeps me in the game. I figured that a couple weeks in the States would fatten me up and I wanted to start the process in decent shape.

Of course, my internal inconsistencies immediately posed obstacles. I went to Our Place for a few beers and to see who was holding court there. Fell into a long conversation with the owner, Eddie, a Belgian rake who’s fathered 13 kids and claims to be in close contact with them all…and to help support all of them as well. That sounds like a lot of work. Noticed a New Hampshire state license plate hanging on the wall – ‘Live Free or Die’ is the state motto and I’ve always laughed when driving behind people from NH.

Took a cab back uptown. Watched people along the way, and smiled at a few. Filipinos might look at foreigners like they’re crazy, but give them a smile and they smile right back…unlike many Indians. In India you come to feel that you actually might be the crazy/weird one, but in the Phils. it’s a fleeting sensation…

Popped into El Gecko, where my friend Lyte used to work. She’s not there anymore, but there are usually a few characters sitting at the bar and a few cuties behind it. Tonight was no exception…I wound up having an in-depth talk with a homely Japanese girl who was studying English at one of the local English-for-foreigners schools, which are big business in Cebu.

We both agreed that the Koreans who come to Cebu are a joke – they take their father’s money to study English, but never go to class, instead hanging out in the casinos and girlie bars. Which, to be honest, is a lot more fun than going to any class I can imagine. But still, it’s hard to put these Korean ‘students’ in a positive light – even in the bars and casinos, they’re zero fun. They keep to themselves, aren’t able to banter, and smoke incessantly. And they all wear eyeglasses – are contact lenses unavailable in Korea? Instead of signing up for English class, I think a short course in style might be in order…

Hopefully that didn’t sound overtly anti-Korean – there are lots of cool Koreans out there. It’s just that the ones who I come across in Cebu need some work.

I had fun chatting with the Japanese girl – as I mentioned, she wasn’t much to look at so I was able to focus on actual topics. I told her I lived in Tokyo for a few years, spoke some Japanese to her, and apparently demonstrated substantial knowledge of her country, because she constantly made a very Japanese exclamation – sort of like a lengthy ‘mmmmmmmm.’ I like getting that noise – like most people, I suppose, I like to have broad knowledge and to get confirmation of that from people who actually know what they’re talking about…

Walked over to a nearby go-go bar, Lone Star. This place is usually good for a laugh or two – the bartenders are a riot and the onstage talent is OK. Tonight the place was full of horny old geezers who were all over the dancers and held ‘em in near deathgrips. Poor girls. Poverty indeed makes people desperate.

Noticed the owners/managers from the Kiwi Lodge at the bar – waved to them. Then I took off – had to get up, do a few things, then fly to HKG in the late afternoon.

The next day, I asked for my bill and when it came there were some odd charges on it. Turns out that last year, when I left my charger at the hotel and the owner, Dick, couriered it to Manila for me, he just put the charges onto my account, which was still in his computer system. I had meant to repay him this time round but he didn’t seem to be around. Anyway, this was a good way to handle it, and as I paid my slate was wiped clean. I hate having outstanding debts and loose ends.

Made a flight booking for a few weeks down the road. Had some Filipino street food for lunch. The street food is actually not half bad here – basic, but generally tasty. The stuff you find in restaurants is often less appealing – I guess the food doesn’t really translate well into a more upscale/formal dining experience. Sitting on a stool on a street corner shoveling rice and pork adobo into your mouth can be an enjoyable experience, as long as you don’t do it every day…

Hung out at SM Mall for a couple hours. I had checked out of Kiwi Lodge and had some time to kill. I despise that expression, frankly, and rarely find that I have ‘time to kill.’ If I have a book to read, that’s time well spent. But right now I was between books, I was checked out, and I had no pressing errands before my flight. So aimless mall wandering was it. Had a buko (coconut) juice shake and people-watched for a while. Looked in my daypack for my passport, which I hadn’t used in a couple weeks; wanted to make sure it was in there. It was not in the usual compartment, and that concerned me. I had a vague memory of shoving it into another part of the pack, and looked there. No dice. Finally, I emptied out the main part of the pack, took out the plastic bag lining, and there was the passport at the very bottom. Whew. I had already started to mentally cycle through a trip to the nearest US consultate, passport photocopy in hand – and I’d possibly have missed my business school reunion in Virginia, the driver of my US trip. Disaster averted. I really do need to be better about handling my passport…

Here’s why I love the Philippines: in the taxi to the airport, I made some small talk with the driver, who didn’t seem that chatty or proficient in English, for that matter. Then the song ‘It’s Not Unusual’ came on the radio. The driver turned to me and said ‘Is Tom Jones still alive?’ I replied ‘yes’ and grinned. Sometimes the Philippines is the twilight zone and funny little things happen to you there.

Noticed at the airport, while checking in, that the desk agents don’t ask you the old post 9-11 questions anymore. ‘Did you pack your bags yourself?’ and ‘Has anyone had access to your bags since you packed them?’ Etc. The questions were always stupid – the bad guys wouldn’t spill the beans, right? I always thought the questions were only designed to remove as much legal liability from the airlines as possible. Now they ask no questions – we can only hope that security measures have improved to the extent that there’s less bullshit and more screening.

As I waited to board my flight to Hong Kong, I noticed that the television in front of the waiting area was showing the end of that day’s Red Sox-Yankees game. I had already read about it online, so knew that the Sox won…but I still was happy to watch it and see for myself. Our relief pitcher, Okajima, got a couple tough outs…then there was a long rain delay, which the station skipped over, and finally our closer Papelbon struck out the reigning MVP, Rodriguez, and we won the game. I wasn’t the only interested party, either – scores of Filipinos were crowding round the TV watching the tense end-game. Again, the country is like the twilight zone and sometimes you feel like you’re back home, but surrounded by slightly different people…

Already another baseball season. Didn’t seem that long since I’d watched the final World Series games from last season, from the comfort of my (pricey) Apollo Hotel room in Mumbai. Come to think of it, baseball is a pretty helpful way of marking time for me – I don’t have that many true milestones and matching up my meanderings with the baseball season and its own highlights is an interesting methodology…

Got to HKG on time. Rode the train into town, then got in a cab to my hotel – a place I’d never heard of, called, bizarrely enough, Mingle on the Wing, booked for me by friend/financial advisor Yuhin. The cabbie was deeply clueless and it took a while to get to the proper place – I had to make him call the hotel eventually. I dropped off my stuff in the tiny room – still priced at nearly US$100, despite the room being cozy by even Japanese standards. Then went out to meet old colleague Torsten for a few beers. It was nearly midnight, Sunday, but Torsten was still keen to meet and so was I.

I love dropping into big cities and meeting friends – the enormity of the world and our ability to navigate it rapidly are both apparent in these situations. I suppose that I’ll always have a tough time staying in one place – you might recall that towards the end of my 3+ months in Goa, I was getting antsy. The best antidote is a good road trip and a few beers with an old buddy…so Torsten and I spent a couple hours spread across bars in Lan Kwai Fong and Wan Chai. We had a good chat and updated each other on near-term plans. I finally stumbled back to my hotel around 3 a.m., needing to get up in 3-4 hours to catch my onward flight to New York. This was just a quick night (or half night) in HKG, but I knew, as always, that it’s one of my favorite places and I still miss it.

My flight to NYC on Cathay Pacific was surprisingly comfortable and enjoyable. I was in coach class, but the seat was large and spacious, nobody was in the adjacent seat, and the selection of on-demand movies was excellent. The flight was almost 15 hours, but it went by quickly and was probably the best trans-Pacific flight I’ve ever taken. Kudos to CX for providing a good experience.

Watched a bunch of movies en route, including ‘The Diving Bell & the Butterfly,’ by a French editor who had a stroke and became ‘locked in,’ i.e. he was almost completely paralyzed except for the ability to move/blink one of his eyes. He was able, under the care of an innovative speech therapist, to communicate by blinking, dictated a book, and died 12 days after it was published. Now it’s a movie, and quite something – really makes you think about what you’ve got and what you don’t need.

Landed in JFK. The place looks a little better each time, and they seem to be a bit more welcoming. Clearing Immigration was quick, the bags took some time but I got out of there within 40 minutes – not bad. Got into Manhattan, dropped my stuff at friend Todd’s apartment, and went out.

Maybe this is a case of ‘if I didn’t believe it with my own mind, I never would have seen it,’ but it seemed to me that there were quite a few austere, hangdog faces on middle-aged suits in the city. Employees of Bear Stearns, or other banks waiting for their turn to come? Perhaps. I was thankful not to be in that game, at least not right now – it must be very ugly.

Went down to J&R Music World and bought a new Treo 680 smartphone. Not cheap for an unlocked version, but worth it. I spent another couple hours setting it up – between different versions of Palm software and Windows Vista, it was a near-disaster. Thankfully I had backed up all my data on a memory card, because the installation of new Palm Desktop software erased what I had backed up on my laptop. I despise setting up new devices – there’s always some hitch. Why can’t vendors get their act together and be in front of new OS launches? I don’t think it would be that hard, and their customers would appreciate the support. No wonder Palm stock is way down, and Apple is eating their lunch. The only reason I stick with Treos is that the switching costs/pain of getting my data over to a new system would be even more painful than upgrading within the Treo line itself. Ugh.

One of the best things about the USA these days? Mennen Speed Stick, only $2.99.

Went out that night for buffalo wings with old friends Ray and Bryan. Had some good laughs with them – Bryan and I wound up staying out fairly late and I knew the next day I’d feel heinous. Three hours sleep in HKG, three in NYC. Something had to give, despite my infamous energy.

Todd, my host, couldn’t join us, but I saw him first thing in the morning, before I went to catch my train to Boston. He works for Morgan Stanley, and has some tales to tell. I think he’d be better off retiring and becoming a sports agent or something like that.

In a cab en route to Penn Station, I saw a huge pile of horse shit on the street. Probably police horses. Was I already back in India?

Before I forget…my USA trip was prompted by my 15^th business school reunion, and by my desire to see my family. It had been 8 months since my last trip home, and that’s a fairly long time. So here I was, checking back in.

The train ride to Boston was about 4 hours, and I spent nearly all of it reviewing the entire set of photos I’ve taken since I started this journey in May 2006. I got rid of some duds and dupes, and was flooded with memories from places like Burma and Oz. It’s not that natural a move to go back and review all the photos, or blog entries, but I should make sure to do it once in a while so that I maintain perspective.

The Amtrak train was significantly more comfortable, and hygienic, than its Indian counterparts. That was a relief.

Got to Boston, got my rental car, and drove home to Newton. Talked with my step-mother for a couple hours – she recently had surgery, but has recovered remarkably well and if I hadn’t known about her situation, I wouldn’t have been able to notice any difference at all.

Took it easy that night – my lack of sleep, enthusiastic drinking, and jet lag proved a lethal trifecta. Had dinner with Dad and Ellen and caught them up on things. Then I collapsed around 11 p.m. and slept till 7 a.m. Best sleep I’ve had in a long time.

The next day I did a round of errands. Storage room – got some clothes for my reunion. REI – bought some near gear for traveling. Noticed a Sikh (gurdwara) temple right next to the storage facility I use. Sikhs in Milford, Mass. – unreal. And kind of cool.

I drove to Hopkinton to see my sis and nephew. Spent a couple hours hanging out with them – got covered in chalk and bubbles courtesy of my nephew. Kids are messy creatures. And my sis has a baby girl on the way, so in a couple weeks it’s double trouble at her house.

Had dinner again that night with Dad and Ellen. Lots of different meats – steak tips, roast turkey, and briscuit. Haven’t consumed that much meat in memory – it was damn good. To work it off, I walked into Newton Center to see my old classmate Alex. He’s looking for some contacts in healthcare and I know a few people. I’d much rather help him find a job than get one myself!

That was a long enough day. Slept well again, and got up to pack for my trip south, to Washington and then Virginia. Flew to DC and rented a car, then drove out to Great Falls to see my old buddy Blaze. Had fun catching up with him; we also called a couple fellow fraternity brothers and shared war stories. Blaze is one of most accomplished and switched-on friends and I wish I could see more of him.

Slept chez Blaze that evening, under the influence of some strong malt liquor. Drove the next morning to Charlottesville, Virginia, home of the Darden School. I graduated Darden 15 years ago, and haven’t missed a reunion yet – despite having to traverse some serious distances to get there every 5 years. I’d actually been to Cville 2 years before, just before I got on the road, so it hadn’t been too long.

Sent a text to my classmate Ed, who lives in Cville – we decided to head to the Bellaire Deli to eat one of their brilliant Keswick sandwiches. This deli is part of an Exxon station, and the standing joke is that no other Exxon serves such great food. The Keswick is on a baguette, and comprises cured Virginia ham, lettuce, tomato, cheese (I forget which type), and a honey mustard dressing. Perhaps my favorite sandwich in the world. Old housemate Ray (who I had just seen in NYC) and I used to compete on who could eat more over the course of the year – we kept a chart on the fridge at our farmhouse second year. I think we tied that year…but he blew off this reunion and now I’m way ahead.

I stopped at Bodo’s Bagels before the Bellaire to grab some coffee – I was starting to flag and needed the energy to keep up with a few of my hardier classmates. I also stopped at the Court House Tavern for a beer – just to be sure. My old law school girlfriend and I used to drink at this place back in 1991-2, and I’ve always had fond memories of it (and a few of her too).

The reunion weekend was absolutely terrific. Not a great turnout, but enough good people. And the lack of turnout made it realistic to catch up with nearly everyone in a substantial manner – helpful because I hadn’t seen some of these people in 15 years. We all met for dinner at Vivace, an Italian place, then went over to old fave The Biltmore, where the pitchers were flowing freely. From there, it got a bit ugly – I believe we went across the street to Coupe de Ville’s, then to the White Spot for a few Gusburgers (burger with fried egg on top). Chris and I each ate two – not a wise move. Somewhere along the way, Meredith had picked up an undergrad girl and she was insane enough to hang out with us for a couple hours. I won’t release the more incriminating photos (there are a few dodgy videos as well), but here are a few photos from the pub crawl:

The next morning was a bit hairy – even more so for classmate Chris, who evidently didn’t drink his RDA of water before going to bed and had a brutal headache. I had made sure to 1) call my lady friend in the Philippines, and 2) drink about 7 glasses of water before passing out. I don’t recall much of the phone call, but I made it and as Woody Allen likes to say, showing up is 80% of life.

After breakfast I drove over to Darden to hear the Dean speak, and to see Barbara, the former Director of Student Affairs who now heads the MBA for Executives program. Barbara and I hit it off very well in my first year – I think at parents’ weekend she and my dad were talking, he found out she’s from New Hampshire, and that got things going. Anyway, she and I have stayed in touch and I always try to catch up with her when in town.

The Dean’s speech was fine, nothing earth-shattering. On our way out of the auditorium I ran into classmate Joe – last time we’d met was at our 10^th reunion. Joe and I once went on a major league canoe trip in Ontario with 3 other guys, and we still laugh about the craziness of that trip today.

Chris was still stumbling around, hungover. Poor guy.

Noticed at one point that I no longer had my camera. Torture. Looked around…went back to the auditorium…no dice. I wasn’t super-worried, given the affluent nature of the crowd. Still, the thing is worth a bit of scratch and I wanted to locate it pronto. Went to the reunion reception area and it was right there, waiting to be claimed. Bravo.

That night our class had dinner with two professors – Spekman and Eades. They were probably my 2 favorite profs back in the day, and they’ve maintained a connection with our class. They caught us up on school gossip, I gave a short speech given my history as class comedian/newspaper humor editor, then the dinner concluded and we went to the party outside. They put on a good fireworks show, then we hit the bar and did a little dancing. Chris had his camera out and was showing everyone some fairly compromising shots of me and others from our pub crawl the night before. I got a lot of shit from classmates, even though I hadn’t really been that naughty. I would have preferred more naughtiness and more ribbing, honestly…but it was all in good fun. And I was loving life – I wouldn’t dream of missing one of these reunions, to me they’re an important part of life. Seeing old friends, taking the time to assess where you are in life, sharing stories – why else are we here, anyway?

Took it relatively easy that night. Next morning Danny and I went to our farewell brunch, then I got in my car and drove west. I wanted to pay homage to a few places: my second year residence, the Yule Farm…Crozet Pizza, home of some fine pizza pies…and finally to the little town of Batesville, where I’d never been. Barbara at Darden had told me that my old professor Cid owned a general store in Batesville, and I was semi-desperate to go see him.

Backstory: Cid was the head of the Analysis & Communications team at Darden, and taught us public speaking and critical writing. I was a former journalist and thought myself a great writer – but I learned a lot from Cid nonetheless. So did everyone else, and he was consistently voted a top prof by his students.

The administration felt differently, and after he had made a few rogue comments he was unceremoniously ousted. A huge student-administration fight ensued, but the school won the battle, including the lawsuit that followed. Cid faded into the woodwork, probably bitter that his favorite students didn’t do something radical like quit the program. I signed petitions and spoke my mind, as did others, but we wanted to get our degrees and not torpedo our futures, so we were limited in our responses and actions. I gave our class’s commencement speech, and had reviewed it with Cid beforehand. He had wanted me to insert some comments about him – even just a veiled reference to a ‘Jewish socialist writing professor’ or the like. I considered doing so, but given the likely audience of 2,000 people and what I thought they deserved to hear, I kept the vitriol and politics out. I don’t know if he heard the speech, but ever since then he’s been incommunicado. I’ve sent emails…two years ago I left a voicemail…no reply.

So now I’d heard that he was operating a store in Batesville, ominously enough, and I hoped to swing by and see him. Wasn’t at all sure how he’d react, but I played a few rounds in my head and felt confident I could handle nearly any response. I walked in just after noon, when they opened the store, and saw Cid – naturally looking 15 years older – behind the counter. I didn’t identify myself right away, I perused the merchandise and chatted generically with him, giving him a few indirect openings. He didn’t bite. I finally asked him if I looked familiar – right away he said that I did. I told him my name, that rang a big bell, and we shook hands. He did ask me if my class was ‘the one that got him fired,’ and I just said I was 1993. The previous class and my class probably shared any culpability, although his comments back then were unbidden and I don’t see how we’re actually guilty. Anyway, he opened up and was friendly, and seemed happy enough that I stopped by. I think that, like most people, Cid welcomes attention, but if it’s via email or voicemail it’s not that real – you have to see him in person for him to really warm up.

I have to say that this was a therapeutic experience for me. Cid had a real impact on my life and how I communicate, then he ‘went away’ and rejected me (and other Darden students and faculty, of course), and for years I’ve had an empty space where he once stood. I had pretty much given up on ever seeing him again, but now, unexpectedly, we were hanging out together. We talked about other classmates and about our lives. He and his wife bought the store a few years ago and have done a great job – it’s a beautiful place and obviously run with TLC. I’m not surprised. He asked me to tell another classmate, Ed, to come by – perhaps Cid is finally coming to grips with his past and the importance of keeping some of that period alive. Or maybe I’m just fooling myself. I don’t know. All I know is that seeing Cid made this reunion the best one yet, and gave me a bit of additional faith in humanity. I’ll send him an email sometime soon (he gave me his biz card). Not sure if he’ll reply…either way, next time I’m in Cville I’ll drive over to Batesville to see my old professor. I’ll take whatever he can give – I’m not greedy.

My life has lots of different pieces – and most of them keep me on my toes. They’re often hard to fit together, there’s often a lack of synergy, but I like having a lot going on. Seems like that’s likely to continue. See you next week. Over and out.

This entry was posted on Sunday, April 20th, 2008 at 1:51 pm and is filed under Travel. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.