Welcome! I'm Brad Smith, a former English teacher who specialized in seniors and juniors at a Massachusetts public high school. I love a good novel, a fine poem. Retired to the Philippines nearly eight years ago, after having vacationed here over a couple of summer breaks. Yup, the people, the scenery, the utter absence of biting cold, and the inexpensive living here caused me to pick up and leave my New England home; and while I have made occasional trips back to that home, it hasn't yet crossed my mind to return for good. Glenda, my significant other, and her daughter Krizza live with me in a small, rented house in Cabanatuan, a city in central Luzon. I've met many fine people here, made good friendships, helped out where I could, accepted help when it was offered. Started this blog a few months after coming to the Philippines, and have kept a double focus throughout these pages: one, to let you enter my personal life and the lives of Filipinos close to me; two, to offer overviews of current issues important to Filipinos, as well as the customs and heritage of a remarkable people. Cheers!
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The Torres paddies. Planting is under way.
1.12.25
Waste Management, Senator MIA, Here and About
Over on the island of Cebu, on the outskirts of Cebu City, a landfill collapsed last Thursday.
Seven people are confirmed dead, and 29 people are still missing. Hope that any of the missing
will be found alive is starting to wane, but a massive effort to find them continues. The September
earthquake on Cebu and recent torrential rains were contributing factors in the collapse,
according to Binaliw Waste Management, the firm that created and makes use of the landfill, but
environmentalists are calling out the government for its inconsistent enforcement of waste
management laws that have been in effect since 2000. Those laws were created after a similar
collapse -- much more massive than last Thursday's, if you can believe it after studying the
photo at right -- killed more than 200 Filipinos in Quezon City, here on the island of Luzon.
Once the missing in Cebu, alive or dead, have been located, government engineers will study the
landfill to determine whether laws were broken by Binaliw Waste Management. If so, may there
be Hell to pay.
Aerial shot of Jan. 8 collapse. (CDN)
In other Philippine news, Senator Ronald "Bato" dela Rosa has not responded to several attempts by the Senate President to contact him. Dela Rosa dropped out of sight last November when rumors arose that the ICC (International Criminal Court) was about to indict him as a result of its investigation into the extrajudicial killings of Filipinos suspected of being involved in the drug trade. The trial of former president Rodrigo Duterte is under way at the ICC, and during Duterte's tenure as president, dela Rosa was chief of the National Police. An indictment has not as yet been handed down; it is evident, though, that dela Rosa is intent on avoiding the kind of extradition experience that Duterte underwent.
The news from America keeps getting worse; let's leave that alone for now. Krizza is back in school. I'm making an American chop suey for us all this evening. The three cats are well; a new scratching post purchased online at Shopee arrived today. Teresita next door in her sari-sari seems to be on a Barbra Streisand/Celine Dion kick, mornings. Northeast winds continue to keep north and central Luzon cool (well, for the tropics, cool). Um, laundry today, shopping tomorrow. . . .
Hopes wane for survivors in Cebu garbage site collapse | Philstar.com
Cebu landfill landslide exposes ‘broken waste management,’ groups say
Senate president: No reply from long-absent Bato
1.4.26
New World Order?
Happy New Year all! May 2026 be a turning point, during which the machinations of oligarchs across the globe begin to fail and democratic orders begin to be established (or reestablished)!
I was in la-la-land, sleeping at the farmhouse in Rizal, when the clock struck twelve. Earlier
in the evening did have fun with many children, bottle rockets, and barbecue! That afternoon.
Edmar had taken off the old, burnt-out exhaust of his motorcycle and welded on a new exhaust.
The old exhaust (or a part of it?) took the form of an elongated cone about a meter in length
which stood sturdily enough on its base on the hard-packed dirt of the farmyard. Shopping
later on, I found big bottle rockets that seemed as if their fuses would hang above the top of
the cone, and bought twenty of them, along with a large variety of sparklers. The old exhaust
worked very well as a launcher for those rockets!
Later in the evening, after having eaten my fill, it was bedtime for me. Here are a few shots the family took after I called it a night.
On another note, it's caught my eye, as I'm sure it's caught yours, that U.S. armed forces attacked parts of Caracas as well as other sites in the country of Venezuela, then sent in special forces to grab Venezuela's president and his wife and whisked them up to New York City, where they are currently being held in a federal prison on drug trafficking and weapons charges. President Maduro is no squeaky-clean leader, for sure. Strong evidence of voting fraud in the country's 2018 election and overwhelming evidence of massive fraud in the 2024 election caused nearly every country in Europe and most countries in South America to declare Maduro's presidency illegitimate. He imprisoned opposition politicians on trumped-up charges, used torture, and with his family is strongly implicated in the cocaine trade. But here's the thing: does a country have the right to invade another country, causing death and destruction; snatch up the leader of that country; and dictate to the new leader (and former vice president) how to respond when corporations of the invading country come to exploit the natural resources of the invadee? How would American opponents of MAGA feel if another country did harm to the U.S., stole away our orange prez and his wife, then tried to dictate terms?
Control of the Venezuelan oil fields will enable the American administration to deal a devastating blow to Cuba, which relies heavily on Venezuela for its oil. That island nation is in deep trouble. . . .Venezuela, Cuba. And Trump has cast a much-publicized acquisitive eye on Greenland and Canada. He recently threatened Mexico and Colombia with military action, too.
One sees in recent developments the dissolution of a global order in place since 1945. Trump is turning away from Europe. He withholds much support to Ukraine while ballyhooing a treaty between Ukraine and Russia that heavily favors Russia. He cancelled a planned stopover in the United States by the president of Taiwan, and is mulling over a visit to China. The current administration seems to envision for the world three spheres of influence dominated by three autocratic powers. For Russia, Europe, northern and western Asia. For China, eastern and southern Asia. For the U.S., the Americas. This is not the lone viewpoint of an elderly blogger. Independent media, as well as some mainstream media, have been connecting the dots.
You may remember that in the dystopian novel 1984 much of the world is divided into three superstates: Oceania, Eurasia, and Eastasia. I view that Orwell book as a cautionary tale, not as an artful prognostication. The American vote in November, if it is a fair one, will deprive MAGA of both chambers of the capitol building, I'm convinced. The prime directive for activists in support of democracy is simply to ensure that Americans will be allowed to speak with a clear voice.
With any luck, we'll avoid that downer of a world created by a plucky, tubercular Englishman.
History of U.S. involvement in Venezuela's petroleum industry - Wikipedia
After capturing Maduro, Trump hints at military action in Cuba, Mexico and Colombia
12.30.25
Sickles
Glenda was up at the farm for the weekend; I remained behind with the cats. Matilda returned Christmas Eve and shows up regularly for water, food, and some petting, now. She seems to be a cross between the sleek, muscular, usually solid-color Asian cat and the Western cat (tabby, calico, mittened, what have you). Ironically, the Western cat is the more prevalent variety in the Philippines.
Glenda's family now owns completely the rice paddies behind the farmhouse; they finally got the money together to buy the shares owned by siblings and a nephew of the deceased Mario. I spent Christmas Eve afternoon typing up the handwritten documents. Glenda proofread my copying of all that Tagalog (legalese Tagalog, no less), and we made copies of it all on the printer. Christmas Day we brought it and the food Glenda had prepared to Rizal, where we spent some nice hours with the family. Glenda drove me back to Cab City, then turned right around to drive back to the farmhouse and enjoy a long weekend with her children (Krizza has been staying there with Francis over school break).
The paddies the family now owns outright were more than ready for a harvesting, but in all the running
around to finalize the purchase, no one had remembered to reserve for rental a mechanized rice-harvesting
machine! And this weekend none were available, of course. Edmar, elder son of the oldest sister and father
of Joy-Joy and Ethan James, knew what this meant. Out came the sickles, and younger members of the
family, including Glenda, toiled for hours with Ed to get in the rice. The hulls on the stalks will dry in the
sun for some time; then they will be beaten off the stalks and sent to a rice mill for processing.
I've watched crews of workers do it by hand in the fields; looked a lot more grueling than raking leaves,
mowing a lawn, or shoveling snow off a driveway, the chores I grew up with. Texted Glenda in the
evening that I was making myself a spaghetti dinner. She responded with two words: "I'm tired."
She has been home with me for a couple of days. Tomorrow we'll buy fireworks and I guess hot dogs and chicken for barbecuing, then head back to Rizal. As I did last New Years, I'll spend the night at the farmhouse
12.24.25
Whoops
Sorry that it's been so long since I posted last. No, wasn't bitten by a dengue mosquito, didn't break a bone or go on a two-week bender. Guess I just got a bit lazy. Been bumming over the criminal acts, the bloviating, the lying, the grifting, and the obfuscation perpetrated within the executive branch of the U.S. government: that's a big distraction, of course. Feeling queasy about news concerning the Epstein files and the dishonest DOJ that is releasing them in heavily redacted dribs and drabs. Largely feckless Democrats and willfully ignorant Republicans in the legislature raise my hackles. And SCOTUS's six enablers of a malignant presidency do set me steaming. It's been a bad month for the homeland, bad year for that matter.
None of the above excuses me from posting, though. So. . . . The little white cat (which I finally named Matilda) disappeared as mysteriously as she appeared about three months ago. Haven't seen her for five days. Seems I might have been wrong about her being a "stayer." Well, wherever she is now, hope she had a happy landing. We've had much running around to do recently: getting costumes for Francis and Krizza to wear at school shows, finding gifts, etc. Christmas music is everywhere; shop assistants and grocery store clerks are colorfully attired; if your car is held up by a light at NE Crossing, you'll likely encounter a beggar or two, who will tap lightly on your window.
Sent by Glenda from her son's classroom, where she assisted the teacher at the class's year-end party.
Tomorrow, Christmas Day, we thought we'd be visited by Clara Mae and her son and nieces, but when Glenda texted an invitation to Christmas dinner, we discovered she was with her kids down in Bulacan Province and was spending Christmas with relatives there. So Glenda spent this afternoon preparing lumpia (a kind of spring roll with minced pork) to fry and a chicken to roast once we get to Rizal to the north, where we'll join many other Torreses at the farmhouse. We'll be toting along bags of gifts and numerous red envelopes, too!
Maligayang Pasco, all. And try not to get bummed, as I have, over the fiasco in Washington. "This too shall pass," we read in Corinthians. And I should pay more attention to that reassuring thought.
12.8.25
In Passing
The small white cat now allows me to pet her: and yes, she's a she. Will remonstrate with me vigorously if I try to pick her up, but she does seem to like my touch. Have to come up with a name for her; like Phoebe, she will be mainly an outdoor cat, but she seems to be a stayer.
& The bank accounts and other assets of several Philippine sitting and former senators and representatives are in the process of being frozen. Arrest warrants are to be issued before Christmas. These present and former legislators are accused of aiding "ghost companies" in the landing of huge contracts for flood mitigation projects; they, in turn, received huge kickbacks for their efforts. Many projects never got under way; ones that did used substandard materials and "shortcuts." Two major contractors are under investigation.
& The Feast of the Immaculate Conception is a school holiday in the Philippines, non-Filipino readers. The country is Catholic to the bone.
& Speaking of bank accounts, mine is still receiving social security payments: the ban on mail to the U.S. was lifted, and my "I am still alive" affidavit apparently got through in time.
& Christmas we'll spend in Cabanatuan. Clara will come over with her nieces and her son; we'll play games, watch a movie. Glenda and I will both work the kitchen. New Years Eve we'll head for Rizal with fireworks.
& Afternoon high temps are dipping below 30c. Of course, high humidity will always be here, but this is nice. Have learned the absence of cyclones on the weather map, which is the case today, means little for the future; those buggers can pop up out of nowhere.
& Will be thinking often of the people I love and friends I treasure in the U.S. as these holidays pass by. In what condition will the country be come next Christmas? The orange madman is in decline, maybe, but I can't help but think the going will get worse before it gets better, Stateside.
12.1.25
The Small, Clean Feral Cat; and the Large, Dirty One
The back took quite a while to unfoul its fouled muscles, but all seems fine now, and it's good to feel mobile. Christmas music is in the air most mornings, thanks to the sound system Teresita had installed in her sari-sari next door -- definitely prefer it to the Perry Como she sometimes plays. Afternoon temps rarely exceed 31 degrees C now, and the mornings and evenings have grown cooler. This is the tropics, but Luzon is more than a thousand miles north of the equator. . . .
The great, gray behemoth of a compound in which we live houses
Teresita and her grandson Ritz; Glenda, Krizza, and I; about half
a dozen college students who all seem to study at Midway College, a
school whose curriculum is involved with the maritime industry; and
at least one family of mice. Among visitors, we often see a number of
Teresita and Ritz's relatives from Masyapyap Sur, on the other side of
the Pampanga River. Ritz, who is studying to be a nurse, occasionally
holds study sessions with some of his classmates. Glenda and I have
friends over now and then, my two sons appear on a screen Saturday
mornings, and Torreses from Rizal are always welcome. Then there are
the two cats.
The smaller of these two strays, really still a kitten, comes into the house to eat in the daytime, when we leave the gate and kitchen door open. Phoebe looks down on the little muggins, and once offered it an extended hiss. Sophie, on the other hand, plays hide and seek with the visitor; eventually they are chasing each other about with manic glee. The small guy will not suffer itself to be touched by human hand -- all attempts to pet it are denied with a quick scamper through the cathole in the living room door. Hell, I don't even know whether it's a girl or a boy! Its occasional moan-meows, directed at humans, does suggest, I think, that it may eventually accept a human touch. We'll see.
The other feline visitor is antisocial and will not come indoors. I once sighted it climbing to the
big house's balcony at such an angle that I could determine its sex: male. He's big and quite dirty; cleaned up, he would be mainly white, like the little one. This cat won't let people get within fifteen feet of him and seems determined to stay feral. More than once I've seen him perched on the porch railing, taking in the world with baleful eyes.
It appears he's also violent. One recent afternoon Sophie came hobbling in, dripping blood and keeping her left hind paw from touching the floor. There was a gouge in her lower left leg, and it looked very likely that another cat had clamped powerful jaws on the leg -- perhaps as Sophie was trying to get away? Where was Phoebe in this? Had she interceded and helped to get Sophie away from her attacker? Glenda dabbed at the wound with betadine; we determined to keep Sophie indoors that night and see how the wound looked in the morning -- and take her to the vet's if she still could not put weight on the foot. Next morning, not only could she not put weight on it, but it had also puffed up to nearly twice its normal size. Got to the vet's place shortly after it opened, and the doc determined there were no broken bones; Sophie's wound was simply infected. She gave the poor girl two shots of antibiotics, then handed to me a serum + syringe for Sophie's pain, and a spray and topical ointment, both antibiotics. That was five days ago.
And today she's running around with little no-name, as she did before her run-in with what I'm guessing was a big, dirty bully.
11.20.25
Sedentary
Pulled muscles in my back, right side (in my sleep apparently), and for two days I've been in a recliner reading or browsing the internet, or ambulating over short distances in our home hunched over and unsteady on my feet. Not a new thing for me. Aged 15, I was in a car wreck and damaged vertebrae in the lumbar region of the spine (L2-4, to be precise). Two operations for bone fusions, an operation to install metal rods, and an operation to remove those rods later, my back had plenty of scar tissue, and I was an eminent candidate for problems involving back muscles. Well into my twenties I was wearing a corset, on and off. After reaching 40 or so, had nary a problem involving pulled back muscles, so this occurrence came as a surprise. The symptoms and the quality of the pain are incontestable, though. Occasionally -- usually when I make a wrong move and flinch (another wrong move) -- I feel a kind of warped nostalgia. Where are the snows of yesteryear? Right here, Francois Villon.
11.9.25
Uwan
As I peck away at this keyboard, Glenda is ferrying down from Rizal her mother Bienbe; her son Francis; the children of her nephew Edmar, Joy-Joy and Ethan James; and nephew JM. It will be the same arrangement we had when the last typhoon came through the province a year ago. Typhoon Uwan (int'l name Fung-wong) right now is still offshore, but it's making a northwesterly beeline for the center of Luzon's central plain -- the location of our fair province, Nueva Ecija. I'd asked Glenda to try to persuade the young adults to hop on their tricycles and come down, too -- we could put them up for the night in one of the big rooms at Fred's, the sturdy hotel across the street from us. According to her texts, they begged off -- had to look after the animals, etc. And that's not good: Typhoon Pepito, which came through in '24, did not have nearly the strength of Uwan, which attained "super typhoon" status last night. And Pepito blew down a tree and large branches on the Torres property. Edmar, Novi, Charm, and Gio will not have the same ride they had a year ago, I fear.
We have plenty of candles here, plenty of water. Am in the middle of the novel House of Leaves: entertainment for when the juice cuts out. I'll leave you for now, but will come back to finish this posting when I'm able to, after the storm has passed.
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It's 11.11 now: happy Veterans Day, Americano readers. We got through a stormy night safely, though I can't say that most of us had a good sleep! No electricity, of course, but Glenda reached the farmhouse with her smartphone in the morning: everyone there was safe, too, though the property's largest mango tree was blasted, and there was quite a mess to clean up. So Glenda filled up our car with Torreses and headed for Rizal, leaving me with my novel and the cats. When the juice returned that evening (kudos to Celcor, whose linemen did a fast job: Ritz, Teresita, and I were expecting at least two days walang kuryente) Glenda informed me that travel had been slow due to many downed trees and much standing water.
The death toll stands at 25. Could have been much worse. Eight cyclonic storms, over the last 40 years, have each killed more than one thousand in the Philippines. Yolanda in 2013 took more than 6,300 lives, and perhaps as many as 8,000. Before Typhoon Uwan made landfall, about one million had been evacuated from danger areas -- this action alone probably saved hundreds of Filipinos. Government agencies quickly put rescue teams on the ground with medical support in the hardest hit areas.
School for Krizza starts up again tomorrow; she and Glenda are back with me. Glenda took
the photo at right of the poor mango tree at the farmhouse. Well, I guess there will be plenty of
free charcoal for upcoming holiday cookouts.
The Philippines lie almost directly in the middle of "typhoon alley." If you're an American
thinking of living the expat life here, realize that occasional cyclones are part of the deal; this
was my fourth direct hit in the eight years I've been living here. With these cyclones there's often
death and destruction; non-affluent Filipinos live in buildings not nearly as structurally
sound as your American home. So, when you get here settle down in a place that is elevated and
well-drained, and live in a sturdy structure, one whose roof can take 100 mph winds without
flying off. Keep candles, flashlights, or if you can afford one a gas-driven generator, have a
pantry well-stocked with canned items, and keep jerry cans for water. Be typhoon-smart, in
other words!
11.2.25
All Saints' Day
I like Halloween, never adored it, as a few of my friends do Stateside. Phlipside, there are costume parties, here and there, but trick-or-
treating is not a practice, generally. Halloween is just not a big deal. The following day, All Saints' Day, is a very important holiday in this very Catholic country, however. This is the day on which people flock to cemeteries to reminisce about and honor the memory of family members and friends who have passed away. "Cemetery-hopping" is a common practice among folks who have loved ones in different cemeteries in a city. A day or two before All Saints', tombs are visited and washed; often, they are decorated with flowers and candles. Friends and family of the deceased arrive early on the holiday with hampers of food, and often several hours are spent graveside by them, telling stories about the man or woman interred just feet away.
This is my eighth All Saints' Day in the Philippines, and
nearly every year I've been invited by one family or
another to join them for a visit to a loved one's tomb.
Each time I begged off; each time I had not known the
one whose tomb was to be visited, and so each time felt
it was not my place to go, for I had nothing to remember
in these conclaves of remembrances. This year I knew I
would be welcome when many Torreses visited the
gravesite of Mario, the family patriarch who died a year
and a half ago. I knew Mario: drank with him, joked
with him. It was my intention to go, though I did not
let Glenda or Krizza know this. And when it came time
for them to leave for Rizal . . . I just let them go.
Remembered Mario at home on Nov. 1 and cursed my
own diffidence. Glenda sent me the photo at right.
Cyclones appeared on the horizon not very long after I wrote the last posting, by the way. A couple drifted far to the north, but one as a powerful tropical storm is now churning through the Visayas, the islands between Luzon and Mindanao. Another, the Ventusky site tells me, will develop into a super typhoon and hit northern Luzon in six days. Not good news. Ventusky tends not to be very accurate about landfalls when storms are nearly a week away, though. Hopefully this whirligig will steer clear of this island.
10.23.25
No Cyclones on the Horizon
And I'm fine with that. But the recent heavy rains seem to have been the cause of a leak in our roof, above our living room. When we first noticed a mushroom sprouting from the wooden inlay flush with the wall and ceiling of the living room, we realized there was a problem. When we had to mop up dirty water under the couch, we knew we had to do something about the problem.
Don-Don is the owner of this outbuilding on his mother's estate. A few months
ago, he left for Malta to work with his wife Aiza there; so I messaged him on
Facebook, explaining the mushroom and the water on the floor, and appending
the photo (at right) showing water damage in the wooden inlay. He got back to
me tout suite (what language do they speak on Malta?) and told me to get hold
of Pusa (Cat) for the repair job. Pusa is the nickname of Francisco, a friend of
Don-Don's and a sometimes trike driver/sometimes handyman in the
neighborhood -- you may remember he assisted Don-Don in building Teresita's
sari-sari store.
Pusa is a gentle giant who always seems to be in a good mood, and he was easy to find. After staring at the inlay for a little while, he asked for P500 in order for him to buy two containers of sealant and appeared a half hour later with said containers of the gray, goopy stuff. He pulled out the estate ladder and clambered about on the roof of our small building for about an hour. When I heard him again on the ladder I went out to find him folding up the ladder with goopy hands. "Oh!" I intoned, and he held up his hands and looked at them, smiling. "Hindi suliranin" (no problem), he said. I handed him another yellow P500 bill and thanked him for his work. He said there should be no further problems, but to come get him if another leak developed.
We pay our rent to Don-Don's sister-in-law and Glenda's friend Clara May, who looks after Don-Don and Aiza's two daughters in a nearby apartment that Don-Don pays rent for. Don-Don texted Glenda to pay Clara Mae P9,000 instead of the normal P10,000 for next month's rent, and that he would reimburse Clara Mae for the shortfall. As yet, there have been no further issues with the inlay.
A cleaner Pusa than the one I last saw!
10.13.25
Glenda Turns 33
America is teetering. Tipping this way, then that way, as another presidential edict goes unchallenged, or another federal court ruling curtails an instance of presidential overreach. It could go on this way right up until the midterm election, which is more than a year away. The policies the orange man claims as his are odious, his practices inhumane, sometimes criminal, to this writer's mind. Yet he is, demonstrably, an intellectual midget. Whatever credit he himself takes, it is the "backgrounders" -- Miller, Vought, Vance, Thiel, etc. -- who actually form the policies and institute the practices. So, what can end this "teetering" before the midterms? A decision by the administration to flaunt the judiciary and ignore its rulings. The emphatic success of peaceful protestors leading a people's crusade, which in turn strengthens the spines of legislators. Violence resulting in the deaths of many protestors. Rapid deterioration of the health of the orange MAGA cult leader. Am I leaving something out? What are the militias doing, or have they all joined ICE?
When I'm not glowering at news reports online and getting generally hyper over the situation Stateside, I'm often reading (novels, Philippine history, 19th century ghost stories on the Gutenberg site recently), visiting sari-saris, playing word games and card games online (bridge sites are getting gradually better). The resorts will be open on a more regular basis as the rainy season draws to a close, and we'll be visiting those again soon. We get around to trying new restaurants now and then, and a few days ago presented a good occasion for doing so! Glenda turned 33. So, she and I, and five other Torreses, visited Kamayan, a resto that opened recently over in Barangay Kapitan Pepe.
"Kamayan" means "hand in hand" in English, and the name is a playful allusion to the method of eating in the resto: hands only, plastic gloves available! Not only are there no utensils; there are also no plates, beyond the serving dishes on which mounds of food are carried to tables. The server's first chore is to tape large sheets of plastic to tabletops. Diners scoop what they desire from the serving dishes and lay it on the plastic before them. Above you see two of the dishes we ordered: a mixed seafood dish (shrimp, crab, corn, mussels, and squid) and a dish of crispy pata (part of a pig's leg boiled for hours, then dipped in a vinegary sauce, then deep-fried). I stayed away from the crispy pata and concentrated on the seafood and a chicken dish.
The shrimp and crab seemed somewhat overcooked, and the chicken seemed somewhat dry; then again, I can be a fussbudget. A well-made pata made up for that, maybe. Folks at the table had fun with this style of eating, which is normally reserved only for boodle fights; they appreciated the resto's decor; and the live singer sang well to her instrumental recordings, though I felt she was a little obsessed with Carpenters songs (Glenda takes my distaste for the Carpenters and the Bee Gees, "classic groups" beloved by many Filipinos, in stride). About midway through our dinner, torrential rain struck the roof. The singer took a break, and we raised the decibels of our conversation. Often, on Luzon, a downpour begins with a mighty torrent which lets up after a few minutes and becomes a steady, heavy rain. Well, this torrent did not let up. It went on and on.
The place's surroundings were inundated by the time we were ready to leave, and the street in front of the resto was a swiftly moving stream. Standing in water above my ankles, I held open the rear door of the Toyota for Mama Bienbe and the kids, then pulled myself in next to Glenda, who drove very well on a bad night. Happy birthday, girl!
P I C D U M P
10.2.25
An Earthquake, and Luzon's Third Cyclone in Two Weeks
Its epicenter was just off the coast of northern Cebu Island, but it was felt across the Visayas. At least 70 are dead in northern Cebu due to this temblor, which struck Tuesday at 10pm, local time. "Bang! It was as if the world stopped spinning," said a young man who had been eating at a food court, according to the BBC. More than 200 have sought treatment for injuries. Army and air force personnel have arrived to help with the recovery effort, government agencies are transporting clean water to affected areas, and the Philippine Red Cross has issued an appeal for blood donations.
(PRC) (Municipal Government of Tobogon, Cebu)
Emergency response and emergency preparedness in the Philippines have greatly improved over the last 50 years -- to the benefit of Cebuanos, in these hours and days of need. Emergency response teams certified by the Red Cross can now be found throughout the islands. A government agency in Manila streamlines the movement of food, water, medical supplies, and medical personnel to disaster zones -- and that agency, if I'm not mistaken, also coordinates with the military to ensure the availability of adequate manpower in these zones. NGOs such as the ABS-CBN Foundation-Sagip Kapamilya, the Philippine Red Cross, and Americares augment the government's efforts. . . . In a country as prone to natural disasters as this one is, such an infrastructure of humanitarian relief is a must-have.
Well, if emergency services will have jobs to do with regard to the coming storm over Luzon, I'm thinking it will be up in the Central Cordillera, where the landslide risk is high. Paolo (int'l name Matmo) may be a minimal strength typhoon when it hits the coast in the sparsely populated region north of Baler, forecasters say now. It will lose strength over the Sierra Madre, and this time tomorrow its eye, if it still has an eye, will be about 80 kms. north of Cab City. Fortunately, it's going to be a fast mover and should be in the South China Sea by Saturday afternoon. Glenda and Krizza have a plan to visit with family at the home of sister Libya and Libya's partner Pinky in Pangasinan Province on Saturday, which is Libya's birthday. It is expected there will be no school tomorrow due to the storm, and Glenda would like to spend Friday night at the farmhouse in Rizal. I've suggested if there is no school that she and Krizza should get an early start tomorrow, so that she won't have to drive through downpours.
LIVE UPDATES: Magnitude 6.9 Cebu earthquake
About Us | DSWD -Disaster Response Management
Philippine Red Cross | Humanitarian Organization in the Philippines
9.23.25
Super Typhoon
The north coast of Luzon seems quite small on a map, but in fact it spans nearly 150 kms. and has a number of coastal towns: San Vicente, Aparri, and Abulug, among others. Aparri is the most populous of these burgs, with a population of 69,000. North of this coastline the Babuyan Islands spread out in the direction of Taiwan. There are five major islands in this group, and they are home to more than 20,000 Filipinos. An enormous cyclone just finished ripping through these islands and this coastline and we are awaiting news on the toll -- in human lives and property damage -- this storm has exacted.
A super typhoon is a cyclone whose sustained winds exceed 240 kms/hr (or 150 mph). Typhoon Nando (int'l name Ragasa) fits the bill, and I suppose we are lucky it did not barge into Luzon's midsection, or worse still draw a bead on Metro Manila, but, still, hundreds of thousands have felt this storm's wrath. Nando is supposed to maintain its strength as it crosses the South China Sea, and most forecasters have it dealing Hong Kong a glancing blow tomorrow. Another cyclone with a more southern trajectory is currently forming east of here, and we in central Luzon will certainly feel the effects of Opong -- but Opong is not expected to grow into anything stronger than a tropical storm; if Cab City is in its path, we'll have a day of wind and rain, nothing like what the north coast just experienced.
In other news, the Philippine postal service is still not accepting any mail to the United States; if you haven't yet read of my heebie-jeebies regarding this situation, see my last posting. Also, lawmakers and national police are investigating a major corruption case down in Metro Manila: it seems that the leaders of some "ghost companies," as they are being called, enlisted a few lawmakers to shunt public funds to the tune of hundreds of billions of pesos their way in order to carry out much-needed flood control projects. Some of these projects never got under way; some in no way met the specifications agreed to. And a great deal of money is missing.
My ex-wife is on safari in Namibia, God bless her, and old friends who live in Switzerland and with whom I lost contact a few years ago have gotten in touch with me, for which I'm grateful.
9.16.25
Mail Blues
Thanks to the American dear leader's decision to stiffly raise tariffs "across the board," then his backing down on some tariffs and his head-faking with regard to other tariffs, a number of countries have banned parcel mail, and some have banned all postal mail to the United States until "things settle down." Of course, in those countries these are very unpleasant days for companies that rely on a revenue stream based on their exports to the U.S. It's also a difficult time for an expat who needs to return the signed verification form (the "proof that I'm still alive certificate," as I call it) of the Social Security Administration. You see, the Philippine government will not allow its postal service to send anything to the U.S. I split my career between teaching in the private sector and teaching in the public sector; roughly one-third of my income is ss money, and two-thirds comes from the Massachusetts Teachers' Retirement System. The pension system sends a verification form once every two years, but the SSA requires that one be filled out yearly. . . . And I received mine just after the Philippine government shut down its postal service to the U.S.
Well, there are private delivery services. Glenda and I canvassed the ones in central Luzon and discovered that either they are honoring the government's decision regarding mail to the U.S., or they refuse to send to a post office box number (I'm waiting to hear back from the SSA after sending a query concerning whether I might send the form to a "real address.") My concern, of course, is that my SSA money will be "cut off" before mail to the U.S. is resumed here, or before I can find another way to get this form into a po box half-way round the world. A conundrum!
Our last shot at procuring private delivery was with LBC Delivery.
We noticed they had an office at the WalterMart shopping center not
very far from us, so we decided to check out that service and then do
the week's grocery shopping under the same roof. I still occasionally
drive, but when Glenda and I are together, I defer to her driving
skills. In almost two years of driving, she has not received so much as
a small ding: a rare feat in the urban driving environment of the
Philippines!
The lot at WalterMart was a perfect mess: jammed with parked cars
and cars waiting to park. However, after winning a 100K (pesos)
electric vehicle in a lottery, Glenda, among her family and friends, is
well known to be a "lucky lady" -- as we made our third circle of the
lot, a car backed out of a space a very short distance from the
shopping center's entrance, and she was the closest of many drivers
competing for a space. Yeah! But our high spirits were soon after
undercut by the man at LBC Delivery, who informed us LBC was not
delivering to the U.S. for the time being.
So, we shopped. As usual, I took a mini-carriage to one side of the store, while Glenda took a mini-carriage to the other side. We would meet in the middle and, after studying each other's pile, decide if anything else was needed. At the meet-up, all we seemed to be missing was a packet of "squeeze cheese" for mac and cheese, and I headed for the condiments aisle. At checkout I handed over 6K for a 5K+ bill, or about $100 American: we had been running short of more than was usual.
We had timed our errands so that we would finish them just before Krizza's dismissal from school -- extra hands to help bring in all the bundles! -- and we arrived at Jolly Hearts Academy ten minutes before they let out the students. Krizza was happy I had remembered to pick up her favorite chocolate wafers; she nibbled on one while starting her homework, after we got home.
