MIKEWEEK BULLETIN #214

Quote of the Week: “Hey what’s that sparkly thing in the water—see it? The one all the fish are swimming to.”

October 7, 2011

Marinduque, Philippines

Month Jets By In Manila: While the pace of life in the Philippines is on the easy and slow side, September seems to have flown by in an instant. Even so, it has been more than a month since my return to Manila.  Enough time gone by, that my dad has taken to the salutation—To My Filipino Son, when he launches emails this way. Then, one of my Nevada contacts said the story I had just filed from Manila worked out great, still he was wondering would I always be able to turn stories on time—now that I had “moved” to the Philippines? Could he be reading dad’s emails? Either way, I assured the source this was only a visit, and take these as ample smoke signals that it’s time to board Delta’s cattle-car 747 for the long trek back to JFK. The planes are old, but even in the coach, the service is better than average. (Don’t want to jinx the ride back with high praise).

Marinduque, Bellarocca & Boac: Last weekend Vincent’s family formed in “Entourage” fashion to explore a new spot, Bellarocca Island which sits off the coast of Marinduque (MA-rin-DU-kay) and is located a couple hundred miles due south of Manila. Our expedition party included Vince’s mom & dad, three brothers, a sister, several in-laws, a gaggle of nieces and nephews—and in the Filipino fashion—each child travels with their nanny (aka “Yah-Yah’s).

It was a short flight to the Marinduque, which is heart shaped, and legend has it the island formed when two lovers drowned themselves in that spot after the bride-to-be’s father rejected their union—preferring to behead the groom—who narrowly escaped to take the fatal plunge with his beloved. Nice tale. (Snide political aside: perhaps this could be a science question at the next GOP debate—how was the Island of Marinduque formed)?

Aviation Buffs should be advised that I made every effort to ascertain the type of aircraft that shuttled us to the island, but could not find a single marking. I suspected it was of Asian vintage (and sort of a copy of Saab’s turboprop) and the Dabs found the Answer on-line: The aircraft is a Xian M60 which is crafted in China—with a rear entry door that is such a tight squeeze that Vince managed to bang his head upon entry.

Only one flight per day touches down per day at Marinduque, and a loud siren sounds to alert locals when the flight takes-off from Manila. That gives them thirty minutes to line up the local band, which greats arriving passengers (decked out in the kind of tribal garb that the angry dad probably put on, just before he grabbed his sword and threatened the loving couple). There were no harsh threats upon our arrival, only some interesting masks and lots of drums.

More challenging than the flight, was the short boat ride from one island to the next. Our rubber launch was tossed around in the six foot swells, and the folks in the bow took some see-saw like crashes into the coming waves.  

Bellarocca Island is a resort, owned by the Japanese and constructed in a series of villas, and soon to be spas, in the Mediterranean manner. It took four years to build and opened in 2009—the place is still in its infancy; the staff friendly and helpful, and in a couple more years, it will be running in high gear. We got the rainy season discount and had a swell time, relaxing, swimming, kayaking and of course eating. (Food rates about a B).

The QOW was uttered underwater and through snorkeling tubes, as about a dozen of us were checking out the local fish population near a cluster of rocks. A sharp eyed member of our snorkeling party saw a rush of fish all to one spot, and shouted this week’s quote. It was around this time, that Mr and Mrs Violago surfaced and upon seeing her husband, Mrs. Violago inquired as follows: “Did you wear you dentures today Daddy?” To which Mr. V responded: “Oh-Oh” which means yes in Filipino, but also equally applied in English. Major laughs then ensued as our helpful guide dived frantically, parted the fish and retrieved the shiny object, so Mr. V could reinsert his choppers.

Brief Humor note for WASPs: for the declining WASP population, raised on the notion that one should never say anything that might risk hurting someone else’s feelings. This noble notion runs contrary to the Filipino brand of Humor which works roughly as follows. Five people are standing in a group, one of them being bigger than a house. The other four then proceed to tell jokes in front of the very fat person, about how fat they are and all five proceed to laugh. Suffice it to say Filipino humor is not for the faint of heart or the easily offended, and Mr. Violago had little trouble laughing at his plight and his teeth along the rest of us (me of course snickering quietly as one raised in the semi-detached-Episcopalian way).

Tricycle Side Trip to Boac Our flight back to Manila was delayed which gave Vincent, Alma (his former Yah-Yah—and a major source of my five pounds) and I time to take a trike into Boac the capitol of Marinduque. Dabney had provided minor inspiration for this, as he had previously noted that the town had the same name as the British Overseas Airways Corporation (member of “gen y” please see “BA). We found no evidence that the British or their airline had any role in the foundation of Boac, but the place does have an incredible church which was packed to the rafters for a very large funeral when we visited.  

The trip also gave me a chance to ride both inside and on the back seat of a tricycle.

                                        (Only Vince elected to brave the riding the roof)

“Manila” Mike Stats: Typhoons (2), Wake (1* week+), Debut (1), Iced Coffee’s Consumed (MONDO) = Filipino Food Pounds Added (5):  So the final score for Manila III, the sequel: Two typhoons passed close enough to be worth a mention. The first shook the roof and gave us 30 hours of rain. The second happened while we were on an excursion to the south—and it missed us by a good ways. The northern part of Luzon took the brunt of both storms—there were more than 50 fatalities, severe flooding, and in some spots have yet to dry out. At this writing, a good many Filipinos are relying on emergency food relief. This trip was also marked by the Passing of Papa Do, an 18 year old Debut party for one of Vincent’s cousins and enough wonderful local food to have added about five pounds to your humble
correspondent.

Timely Returns to NYC: I have been reporting and sending tweets on the Occupy Wall Street movement (aka #ows in Twitter speak). My reporter’s gut tells me that this movement will get a whole lot bigger before the powers that be are able to get the steam out of the balloon. About the time I departed NY, our Mayor opined that the violence of recent riots in London could not be ruled out in the USA, and my hunch is the Big Apple will be lucky in the extreme if the anger directed at Wall Street remains peaceful and non-violent (which I surely hope it does).

For those who don’t Tweet: A brief snippet of some of the insight on can gain from the 140 character witticisms which find their way onto twitter (A recent tweet taken from web at 2:47AM EDT Friday—for those not paying close attention #ows is twitter shorthand for Occupy Wall Street)

63RupertMurdochPR Not Rupert Murdoch 

Ailes tosses the kitten aside, demands keys to the earthquake machine. "We'll shake those #ows hippies lose, they'll run screaming." 3 of 4

Now, back to NYC returns: For those who did not get my email blasts—Vince got preliminary approval for his H1B visa. Now, the US Embassy in Manila must apply the proper stamps to the appropriate papers and fingers crossed he will arrive in NYC, we hope before Halloween, and who knows maybe wearing a Marinduque mask. 

Click this Link for More Photos

Bulletin #213 EXTRA

24 hour plus Manila Rain Event…..Rain Event turns out to be Typhoon Nesat (aka Pedring)

September 26, 2011

Quezon City—Despite working against a 12 hour time swing, I managed to crank out more stories in the last 9 days here than I usually do working my freelance gig from New York’s Upper West Side. I am rustling after stories like a bear getting ready for the winter hibernation—I know I will lose a work day or two due to jetlag returning to JFK, so I am working in over-drive now.

A major factor is that the news story gods have been kind. They turned on the spigot for some really solid story ideas—just when your humble correspondent needed to get cracking.

At the same time, the weather gods seem to feel that I have done my fair share work for they decided to pour enough rain onto Luzon, the isle that is home to Manila—that the power company shutdown the works. It has rained here for a day straight and the morning arrived with strong winds (your veteran hurricane watcher would have rated them at around 50 mph) which tore at the roof of the Violago home and managed to put a gash in the upstairs ceiling.

This was all happening two hours before my story deadline—and no power meant no way to feed my story, which was back from the editor and just awaiting my voice for the various versions of the radio packages. Since, I file using Skype, no internet meant no phone to let another producer know to pitch in

I woke up two hours prior to deadline to be sure I had time, but I had not planned for this.

Mrs V must have spotted the bullets of sweat forming at my brow, for she kindly asked Mr V to set off on a mission to find gas for the generator.

The deadline gods decided to smile upon us through the rain: In rapid action, Mr V found gas and made it back by 830—he had the generator cranking juice by 8:45, and I was able to announce, edit, and upload the short version of radio “wrap” in time for the East Coast Story Feed at 9pm ET. This was one of those one-take situations, where you had to cut it live on tape, because there was no time left for re-takes. The old hurricane “improve” skills kicked in nicely.

Next, I uploaded the longer versions of my radio report for stations to use Tuesday morning. It turned out to be a pretty interesting story concerning a federal discrimination suit filed against Mayor Bloomberg and the city for allegedly failing to properly prepare to evacuate people with disabilities during Hurricane Irene.

One reason I had to hold off on voicing the story until dawn here was that we were awaiting a response from the Mayor, and my co-producer Mark was kind enough to insert that response while I caught some precious sleep.

That work was now complete, I thought about heading back to bed, but the generator was still whirring away. No sense letting good power go to waste, I reasoned.  As fate would have it, I already had recorded both of the interviews on Skype that I needed for Wednesday’s story. So, I wrote the draft and got the copy and sound uploaded for Wednesday’s story, so an editor will be able to review the work. In the meantime, I will need to touch base with one of the story sources for a brief fact check.

Reporter (tropics) Rule number one is when you have power, and web access, make sure you use it, because one never knows—when they will be restored and reliable enough to get the next round of work done.

Typhoon Nesat (source) CNN

Since, I am writing this Blog style, I can now happily admit that I buried the “lede.” It was not until mid-afternoon that Vince informed me, the rain event was actually the outer bands of a Typhoon Nesat…which carries the moniker of Pedring in the Phillipines—which pretty much means Peter. The Asian weather folks and most of the world will have a different name for the storm—but there is in fact only the one typhoon—which gets a new name when it crosses the Philippines.

I have been so involved keeping tabs on my beats in the states that I had not even glanced at the local news. Vince says we were expecting rain, but not the typhoon. He says, they normally track north once they hit land, but this one was so strong it just cut straight across Luzon, and Manila got hit hard in spots. One river is near over-flowing and if it tops it will flood a highly populated part of the city that saw water around 9 feet deep in a recent typhoon. Early signs are this was quite bad in spots, first reports of deaths have it at seven dead and likely to go higher.

When we aren’t fending off typhoons, much of this trip has been spent at Vince’s new office where he has twenty employees who are doing research and translation work 

For those who know Manila, his office is located in a high rise at West Ave at the corner of Quezon Ave.

 His staff is mostly comprised of recent graduates in language study at the University of the Philippines and they are eager for the work and fun to be around.

BTW, this is my third trip to the Philippines and my second typhoon, so I guess I still have the reporter’s knack of being around stuff when it happens. As my old sidekick (Fischman) liked to recall, the one time I went to Rome the Pope died (for the inquiring mind—John Paul I).

MIKEWEEK Bulletin #212

RIP Papa Do (aka Boss Freddie)  A Grand Filipino Send-off

Quezon City—The wake for Papa “Do” lasted eight days and seven nights And for the past week Vince and I were either working or at the wake. 

There is no telling how many people came, although it had to be over a thousand, and certainly no way to account for all the food that was served. Many who showed their respects were from family and then there were people from the auto industry and workers at the insurance company which Papa Do (aka Boss Freddie) ran with Mama “Fel.” 

I guess the best way to describe company, is it is pretty much the Geico of the Philippines, all 7 thousand islands of them, when it comes to car insurance, and in particular Toyota's.

Both Felly and Papa Do have done a lot of charitable giving, including out helping the family members of local entertainers when they were sick and needed care (The GOP would be proud, there is minimal, as in close to nonexistent national healthcare here, and you pay for ICU as you go).  And, so on the final night of the wake some notable Filipino entertainers each took the turn at the microphone and sang some beautiful songs in his memory.

The day of the funeral began with a mass, and then of course, a full meal. Then we loaded into vans and ten full sized busses to the cemetery which is the final resting place mostly for well to do Filipinos and people of Chinese Ancestry. 

It is a nice spot that happens to be situated on the final approach path to Manila International Airport, so you get these interesting views of Air Qatar Jets on short final over a Pagoda Style memorial chapel.

The most memorable part of the send-off, for me, was the slow walk we all took behind the hearse bearing AlFredo. We were each issued a People’s General Insurance Company umbrella and we all opened them to shield ourselves from the hot mid-day sun.

 All that was missing was a Jazz band to transport this scene to New Orleans. One can imagine the producers of “Treme” having a visual appreciation for the moment.

I mentioned this trip marks my second typhoon, and the funeral day for Boss Freddie also marked the first time that I have ever been to Mass twice in one day—pretty amazing for this occasional Episcopalian.

And I thought I would include a final shot of Papa Do, from our last visit, engaged in a more happy activity—Dinner at a local Filipino restaurant.

MIKEWEEK BULLETIN #211

Quote of the Week: “Mike…Popa Doc is Dead!”

September 19, 2011

Quezon City, Philippines—September finds me back with Vince and working my freelance gig, via the power and reach of the world-wide-web, with a 12 hour time change (16 hours plus for my Nevada stories). I departed New York City, the land of earthquakes and hurricanes, the week after “Irene” and am now in Manila for some of the best weather of the year.

My best reference for life here is New Orleans, and the first similarity is that life (and even death) revolves around food. Manila is also a city made up of the very rich and very poor—with little room left (which is all that is needed) to accommodate the few who would qualify most places as “middle class.”

September Cheer: For the unknowing, which certainly includes most of those bustling through their daily lives on the isle of Manhattan…the 100 Days til Christmas Countdown began last week. One is made aware by the Christmas decorations that have already started to go up on houses in and around Manila. There are also holiday items springing up in the mall,  and some radio stations are playing an occasional Christmas tune—as we all countdown to the big day.


Did I mention, that Filipinos, like New Orleans Saints fans, tend to be “All-in” or in the local parlance—Lahat.

Vincent’s H1B visa application went to Uncle Sam last week, we should know by early October if he gets the OK, then he has to get the government here to issue a visa. We were both hoping to travel back to the states together in early October, but it may take Vince a little longer to return.

Vince has plenty to do in the meantime. He started an outsourcing company that specializes in "I-P" ...as in intellectual property research and translation. He named the company Research Manila Partners. It took some major cajones to start this venture, because his first contract involved almost exclusively research in Japanese. Did I mention that Vince does not speak Japanese, nor at the time did he have much contact with anyone who spoke it?

            Well, he did a bunch of research and came up with some amazing candidates, and now, just six weeks into the venture, he has twenty employees who are doing research and translations in six languages. Most of his employees graduated Magna or Summa Cum Laude

            Today, we are both working from Vincent’s family home, because the Jeepny drivers are on strike, and that means most of his employees won’t be able to get to the office. Not a major problem, because they can all do their research from home. BTW…a Jeepny is an elongated Jeep that holds around 20…and in rural provinces when you count those hanging off the back, sides and on the roof maybe double that.

I mentioned food being big in both life and death and that brings us to the Quote of the Week. It was uttered as I descended the stairs in Vincent’s family home in search of the days’ first cup of coffee—when Vincent’s mom appeared. She was visibly shaken, when she uttered the QOW…and I was suitably confused.

Vincent was behind me on the stairs and I asked him…"Why is your mom so upset…Poppa Doc was the dictator of Haiti..and I think he has been dead for a while? “Not Doc, Doh…” Vincent, said, “From dinner last night, Pappa Doh”

Like New Orleans, Manila is a land of many nicknames—the Cajun nickname “Boy” is also a favorite here. The Papa Do in question was Alfredo, the longtime partner of Vince’s brother’s, Mother-in-Law—aka “Mama Fel” short for Felly.

The wake for Papa Do will last more than a week, and it is unlike most anything you have seen. There are tables set up for hundreds of friends and family and food is catered and includes a half a dozen entrees that are served to all, pretty much around the clock. Vincent confided, “If you come to this wake every night, you will gain 20 pounds!"

As fate would have it, we were with both Papa Do and Mama Fell the night before he died. 
It was at a huge celebration his 62^nd birthday. Vincent’s brother “Ton-Ton” smiled and said to me at the wake—you have been to most everything now: a Filipino Christening, Wedding, several birthday bashes, a debut, a picnic in a graveyard (Filipino's snack with their departed family on the anniversary of their deaths) and now a wake.

Mama Fel is as hard working as she is generous, and in fact spends so much time at work, that Vince and I could not help noticing how happy she was the night of the birthday celebration. She has been very kind to include me in so many family events; both Vince and I feel great sadness and send our condolences for her loss.

On a happier note: I can report some small progress in learning a smattering of Filipino—a language of many short vowels. There is no word for “to be” or “it”, and repeated vowels, ang’s and ng’s  can change the meaning of everything. I took a reporter’s approach to the language and have started with the main questions every reporter knows by heart—Who (sino), What (ano), When (kailan), Where (saan), Why (bakit), and How (paano). From there, I pick up scraps of other words and on occasion have a vague understanding of what’s being said.

Current Reading: Another Dad pick and this one is terrific. Gary Shteyngart’s Super Sad True Love Story. It depicts life in the not too distant future, where verbal communication is all but dead and America has moved to a one party state. If you mixed Saul Bellow with Kurt Vonegut, and added a dash of “1984” you might capture some of the brilliance of this book. What is most scary about it, it that as wild and far-fetched as the author’s imagination is, you don’t have to look so very far into the future, to see this view of a very diminished American taking hold.

Speaking of the Written Word: Manila has one more striking similarity with my longtime home New Orleans—in the many signs which mangle the English language. During my Tulane days, I used to ride the “Freret Jet” aka bus to my meat slicing job at Maspero’s.  Each time the bus passed, I would  chuckle at a sign that hung from a local pharmacy. It declared, “Food Stamps Excepted.” Likewise, these chuckles await as soon as you exit the plane at Manila International Airport. The sign on the jet-way cautions you to “Watch your Steps” and then once you get on the six lane highway, another orders you to “Stay On Your Lane.”

More Eats: I have not yet gained 20 pounds, but I have certainly added a few (pause here to pray for long life, and no additional wakes during my stay).

 Our best meals out have been at Cherchio and Mesa.  Although truth be told, no restaurant hold a candle to Alma’s cooking—she is Vincent’s nanay (That means mother, but it is used as a term of affection for his lifelong nanny). In addition to being able to climb a coconut tree, and fix almost anything under the sun, Alma can put most Filipino chef’s to shame—this weekend she treated us Chicken Adobo—which could easily make the menu at Galatoires, alongside one of my favorites—the Chicken Clemenseau. 

                                  (Chef Alma and her daughter Althea)