Captain Jay J. Navin

For our beautiful , generous and loving friend Mary...

Before we left for Manila, Mr. Man talked with his oldest and dearest friend Donna, who lives in Portland with her wife Mary. Upon learning that we intended to visit the Manila American Cemetery and Memorial, Donna mentioned that Mary’s grandfather, Jay Navin, died in the Philippines during WWII and was interned there. When a serviceman died in the Philippines, their family was given the option of having the body returned to the United States or being buried among their comrades in the cemetery in Manila. Mary’s family chose to have Captain Navin lay at rest with his follow servicemen.

The cemetery, located in the former U.S. Army reservation of Fort William McKinley, is gorgeous; 152 acres of lush grass, trees and tropical plantings. The white Italian marble crosses, and Stars of David, stand out against green grass—that beautiful shade of green we often associate with spring here in the States. Peaceful and quiet, it is pristinely clean, manicured, and well maintained. As you look out over the landscape of crosses—17,202 of them—you are struck by the sheer beauty of them as they continue on and on and on against the backdrop of the city. This beauty, and the lives, honor, courage, and love of country they represent make a strong impact. You can only stand in silence and pray that you can live up to their sacrifice.

We are met by a Filipina woman (whose name I’m sad to admit that I can’t remember) who takes us on a tour and then finds Captain Navin in the database. Amazingly, she is able to take us straight to his grave marker, which is in the first row in this section of the cemetery. From a distance I can see the Star of David among the crosses with the name Jay J. Navin etched into the marble. Surprised, I turn to Mr. Man and ask if he knew that Mary’s grandfather was Jewish. He shakes his head no. Do we have the name right? This has to be him. Privately, we feel a connection to a man we never had the honor of meeting.

We jump out of the golf cart and snap a couple of quick pictures before our guide tells us to wait. She takes dark gray sand and rubs it into the etching so that the Captain Navin’s name stands out starkly again the white marble and then wipes away the excess with a wet cloth. We take several pictures and are pleased at finding this beautiful resting place.


Upcoming Art Auctions

Even though I received lots of positive feedback about the work I have hanging at Stone Soup Kitchen, I didn’t sell anything. Art is just not a priority in people’s budgets now days. That's okay.  It was a great experience, and I am donating one of the pieces to the Neighbor Charter School’s Right Brain Ball Silent Auction on March 5th.  This is my second year donating to them. Last year's piece was purchased by Grace Burley, who is heading the committee this year.  I was flattered when she asked if I'd be interested in donating again this year.  It’s a great cause and a good way to get my work in front of people, so, of course, I said yes.

Signs of Change

I’m also donating a piece to the Georgia Association of Women Lawyers Foundation’s Annual Charity Art Auction, which is April 16th. With this auction, I can keep some of the proceeds. I had to have the piece framed, which was an unexpected out-of-pocket expense, but, if it will get my work in front of a larger audience, it will be worth it.


Georgia Clay



Mt. Pinatubo Pottery, Greenhills, and Leaving the Philippines

Today, our last day in the Philippines, Mr. Man and I are heading to Greenhills looking for pottery made with ash from the 1991 Mt. Pinatubo eruption, which destroyed the homes, livelihood, and way of life of thousands of the Aeta tribe in Central Luzon.  It is made by the people of Mt. Pinatubo through the EVA (Entrepreneur Volunteer Assistance) Charity Foundation.  This pottery, along with other handcrafted products (all made at least in part with from Mt. Pinatubo itself – paper, ceramics and glazes of volcanic residue) are the sole source of financial support for the organization.  Bob and Mari gave us a sugar/creamer set for Hanukkah and I love it so much that I want to get some for gifts, but it seems it is only sold in a few places or through fundraising events, and we soon learn that it was only sold in Greenhills at Christmas.  We are bummed.

Greenhills is a flea-market-like mall with stall upon stall of designer wear (seconds, I think), fake designer handbags, and pearls, lots and lots of pearls.  White, pink, gray, black.  See a strand you like, but the length isn’t right?  No problem ma’am.  They will re-string them for you within a few minutes.  Rico helps with negotiating a fair price—I must admit I have become more comfortable asking for the “best price” and shaking my head or offering less if I’m not happy with the price quoted.  I look to Rico to see if I’ve gotten a good deal, conveyed by a slight nod or shake of the head.

Tonight Mari and Bob are throwing a party and we intend to stay up all night as we must leave for the airport at 3:00am.  We help set up the bar, and I give Rico some tips as he is serving as bartender, something he hasn’t done before.  There is plenty of good food (Susan’s lumpia being my favorite) and many interesting people to talk to; largely other ex-pats.  Even so, I feel my energy flagging around 11:00pm and decide to rest some before our flight.  I manage to dose some even though the sounds of the party float up to our room.  At some point a guest comes in and turns on the light to retrieve her purse, she quietly apologizes when she sees me curled up with Milo on the bed.  I drift off again when the door opens and the light is turned on.  I see a young Filipina girl standing at the door.  When she sees me, she says, “Oh, sorry” and then approaches the bed to pet Milo.  I am too tired to engage her and she takes the hint and leaves.  I get up and lock the door.

Soon it is time to leave and after saying our goodbyes and thanks to Mari, Bob drives us to the airport, which is already crowded at nearly 4:00am.  You must go through security before you enter the airport and the line is very long—there is only one scanner at each entrance. Thankfully we are flying business class, which affords us being escorted to the front of the line.  After checking in, we stand in a long line for immigration; here it doesn’t matter whether you are flying business or coach, there is a shorter line only for diplomats.  After about 30 minutes we are headed to another, somewhat shorter line to pay our exit fee, and then go through security again.  This time we must remove our shoes.  There is one line for ladies and one for men, it is unclear why as they are side by side.  We pop in the Sky Club to use the restrooms and sit for a few minutes before heading to the gate where we must go through security yet again.

Finally we are on the plane and headed for Nagoya where I am sure we will be forced to gather our things and depart the plane, go through security there, and wait to board the plane again.  Perhaps then I will sleep.

Back in Manila

Back in Manila with the traffic, exhaust, and chaotic driving, we spent today shopping at Tiendesita for gifts for family and friends.  Tiendesita’s is a large, covered outdoor market with individual booths selling everything; clothes, furniture, dogs, fruits and vegetables, baskets, I mean everything.  We wander from stall to stall looking for just the right things with Filipina’s calling “Yes ma’am” or “Sir, Ma’am” (pronounced mah’m—at first I thought they were saying “mom”) as we pass.  Mari helps with negotiating good prices; eventhough prices are already low by American standards, it is expected that you will haggle for a better deal.   

Lunch is at the huge outdoor food court.  This is unlike anything in the States; all kinds of fish and seafood, rice, and local specialties out on display.  We settle on grilled Tilapia and Bangus (Milk fish), a spicy seafood stew, fried calamari, yang chow (a yellow fried ice), and Laing (a green cooked with coconut milk).  Everything is delicious and we eat until we are full.  Only Bob and Mr. Man have room for Suman sa ibos (sweet rice in banana leaves). 

After lunch Mari has arranged for the two of us to have facials, and we walk to Shangri-La Mall for a manicure/pedicure before our treatments.  The nail spa is lovely; white couches with footrests and loungers, with lots of pillows.  The white uniformed attendants bring individual foot baths to you for a soak—they lift your feet into and out of the baths—and then lay your feet on white towels on the footrest.  Nail polish colors are presented to you from a tray and they are “happy” to try different colors for you.  While one attendant gives you a pedicure, another does your manicure, accompanied by a hand/arm and foot/leg massage.  Not once do we feel rushed; it quiet, calm and serene.  So unlike what I’m used to (where the attendants chat to each other in Vietnamese—don’t you sometimes get the impression they are talking about you?—and seem in a hurry to get you finished so they can get to the next customer).  All this takes about an hour-and-a-half and we are late for our facials.

At the spa facility I’m shown to a very small, cramped room at the back and asked to remove my top and don a robe.  My technician puts on latex gloves to apply the cleanser (I have never had a facial with gloves before, and must admit I didn’t like the feel of the gloves on my face) and a scrub.  Next is a diamond peel; a small suctioning instrument with an abrasive padding is drawn across your face which removes dead skin cells, after which a mask is applied to your face for 20-30 minutes.  During this I’m left alone in the dark room to relax; except there is no blanket and it is cold.  I’m happy when the time is up, the mask is removed, and it is time to leave with instructions not to wash my face for at least four hours.

We meet Mr. Man, Bob and the kids for sushi at Samu Sam’s, where a hot cup of tea is just the thing to warm us up.  Dinner is ended with a visit to Golden Spoon for frozen yogurt.

Leaving Palawan

It is our last day at El Nido and we have no plans other than relaxing on the beach and perhaps doing some snorkeling nearby.  It will be hard to leave this gorgeous place, yet I am ready to head home soon; I miss Amanda, and Marley & Stella, and our friends (and Mexican food!).  It is very overcast today, which makes it easier as well.  We must check-out at noon and leave the island at 3:00pm.  Unfortunately we can’t get a late check-out as some other lucky individual needs the room.

 
The staff comes to sing us off—"Leaving on a Jet Plane"—and gathers around to wave us off from the dock, continuing to wave and sing until the boat is out of sight. 

Heading back to the airport in the Jeepnee, I catch a couple shots of El Nido Town and the village through the open window.

Our air transport service to and from El Nido, Island Transvoyager Inc (ITI) is the first airline in the Philippines to offer a carbon offset to passengers. For a maximum of Ph200 ($4.40) we are able to offset the carbon dioxide emission produced by our round trip flight as well as support tree-planting activities to the Watershed Rehabilitation Project of the Municipality of El Nido. Mr. Man and I make a Ph1000 donation.  We are so impressed with the green initiatives of the island and feel this is little to ask in return for the beauty we experienced this past week.

To see more pictures, check out my Picasa Web Album
https://picasaweb.google.com/Kelly.Enzor/LeavingPalawan?feat=directlink

Island Hopping in the Philippines

This morning we are both up before the sun, and move to the daybed on the balcony to lazily watch the sun come up.  We enjoy a late breakfast—I have fallen into a route of smoked fish, cheese, croissant, and fruit (usually dried apricots and prunes)—before we are off island hopping.

Our first stop is Vigan or "Snake" Island, so named for the curving sandbar that connects this tiny island to the mainland at low tide.  There is a short hike up to the high point where we discover a lovely view of the entire Bacuit Bay. 


View from top of Snake Island

On the boat we introduce ourselves to a Filipino family from Chicago and have an interesting morning getting to know them.  Both Renee and Susan were raised in the states, but still have family in the Philippines.  They are accompanied by their two adult daughters and son-in-law.  There is also a young Japanese couple who have happened to be on some of the same excursions as us.  They seem very happy; always smiling and taking photos while making funny faces.  They are so cute, and I enjoy watching them as they seem to be having such a great time.   Another family on the boat is from Mexico City who have been living in Shanghai for the past five years.  With them is their six year old daughter who is fluent in Spanish, English and Chinese.

Our second stop is Cudugnon Cave, where we crawl through a small opening in the limestone cliff into a large cave.  There are many sparrows here, but unlike their cliff dwelling cousins their nests are made of a mixture of saliva and grass—instead of pure saliva, which is so sought after for making bird’s nest soup—and so their nests are not hunted.  Chito tells us that there were human bones discovered here from people who hid in this cave during WWII; creepy.  We all take photos of each other and Chito even takes a group shot of the “Americans.”

 

Entrance/exit to the cave



 

The Americans

Next we are off to Pinasil, a hollowed out rock with a small cavern accessible by dingy or kayak—as we are in an outrigger, we can only pull up to the entrance for photos—but, today it is even to choppy for those.

We are back at Miniloc for lunch and a bit of relaxing and then at 3:30pm we are off for snorkeling at Pagugaban Island.  There is a strong current today and it is suggested that those of us who are not strong swimmers settle for snorkeling along the shoreline, which is where we head.  There are plenty of beautiful fish to watch, but the coral here is like a bone yard, broken pieces blanket the floor of the bay.  Even so we have a good time.

On the boat ride back to Miniloc we strike up a conversation with a young American couple, David and Lindsey, who are living in Beijing.  Later when our sunset cruise is cancelled we meet up with them at the bar and chat about what it is like living in China, the pollution, and communism.  They tell us that the pollution is so bad that they wear hepa masks wherever they go—David even shows us a picture of his filters after a week; picture a hardboilded egg cut in half,  but what would be the yolk are somwhat larger dark spots of pollution—and have recently bought a filter for their apartment. 

A large group arrived this afternoon for a class of 1961 Medical School Reunion. While we are talking with Lindsey and David, I notice that an older gentleman keeps looking at us.  Before long he approaches us and we soon learn he is Jewish—no matter where you are in the world Jews just seem to find each other—and is here with his wife who is part of the reunion.  He lives in San Diago, but spent 25 years in Durham and is surprised to find that we are from Atlanta, as he doesn’t think we have accents (this is the first time I have ever been told that).

We invited David and Lindsey to joy us for dinner and share a bottle of wine, and continue our talks of China and the United States.  They both express a desire to move back, but with the current economy they have to stay in China.  David is in the symphony and Lindsey is a music teacher at the British School.

To see more pictures, check out my Picasa Web Album

https://picasaweb.google.com/Kelly.Enzor/IslandHopping?authkey=Gv1sRgCM2sidagipPluQE&feat=directlink