Manitou Springs and Colorado Springs

After browsing over some tourist pamphlets and brochures, I decided there wasn't anything interesting to see in Denver; it's just like any other cosmopolitan city. So, I headed south on I-25 to Colorado Springs and Manitou Springs, which are 65 miles away.

My first stop was the Manitou Cliff Dwellings. Entrance fee is $8.96, including tax. I browsed the museum and gift shop first, then I went up to the actual dwellings. Everything is small! It's as though the inhabitants were Munchkins. A standard window is about 6 inch square. A standard door is probably two feet wide and three feet tall. A standard room is about the size of a small modern bathroom. But it's really cool walking through the rooms. You never know what's beyond the next door. And you have to look into each room through a door or a window to find surprises in them.


The Manitou cliff dwellings. more pics

My second stop was the Cave of the Winds. This is the most commercial of my three stops. It costs $16 to go on the tour. It's on the expensive side but it was an enjoyable tour. The tour guide Mike is kinda funny. He started out with the rules (we're not allowed to touch anything) and with the history of the cave (two young boys fell in through a sinkhole, discovered the opening of the cave, then ran out screaming when the wind blew out their candles). He told us the stalactites are the ones "hanging tight to the ceiling", the stalagmites are the ones "you might trip on" and the "stalagpipes" are the railings you could hold on to so you don't slip.


Stalactites in the Cave of the Winds. more pics

Before the tour started, Mike and another guide took our pictures for two reasons: 1) to sell to us as a souvenir at the end of the tour for $8, and 2) to make sure that nobody got left behind inside.

At one point of the tour, there was a big pile of coins, safety pins, hair pins and other stuff against one wall. The story is that two unmarried women, about 18 years old, had gone into the cave. At that time, a woman who is still unmarried at 18 years old or older is considered an old maid. The two women each left a hairpin in that part of the cave and made a wish. Within a year, they were each married to a rich young man. So, the myth is that you have to throw in something metallic and it has to stay on the ledge for your wish to come true.

At another part of the tour, Mike told us a story of how Zephyr, the god of the west wind, usually slept in that part of the cave. Some bats woke him up and startled him, so he thrashed about, trying to shoo them away. And his footprint is still visible on the ceiling of the cave.

There was one particularly small passage that he called "a fat man's misery and a tall man's headache." He wasn't kidding. It was only as wide as my shoulders and even I (at 4'11", when I'm being honest) had to crouch to go through it.


Called "Balanced Rock" for some reason. ;-) more pics

My final stop is the Garden of the Gods. It sounded so tacky that I didn't think it was worth more than an hour, but, boy, was I wrong! The red rock formations are awe-inspiring! There are pigeons and other birds nesting in the crevices of the rocks. And there were rock climbers on one of the biggest rocks. And it was around sunset! So the rocks were aflame! It's easy to see why they call this place "Colorado". And it's one of those places that could trigger a spiritual experience. It was absolutely amazing! The pictures don't do the rocks justice.


One of the "Cathedral Spires" rock formation. more pics

Well, Colorado is on my list of favorite places. I definitely want to come back here again. And I'm staying longer next time... With a better camera... And a longer lasting battery....

From UT to WY to CO

I left Salt Lake City at 9:15 am. I decided to take I-80 anyway since both AAA's TripTik and MapQuest both show the same route, so it might be a safer route. It started going between mountains and the curves are kinda tight for the speed limit, which is already down to 55 mph. However, after going over a rise, you see Lambs Canyon, which is a beautiful sight.


A lake or reservoir east of Salt Lake City. more pics

It's a fairly quiet drive. Mostly flat, especially in Wyoming. Actually, so flat that you could see the road go straight down a valley then straight back up for probably 20 miles. And you could see light blue mountains in the distance behind the dark blue mountains, which were still pretty far away.

There are no trees, just bushes. And some fields have a structures that look like fences. Actually, they look like 2-by-4's that are nailed parallel to each other, with some gap between each other. Then that "fence" is propped up with more 2-by-4's like an easel. So the fence is slanted about 60 degrees from the ground. They're propped up next to each other, but not always in a straight line. Sometimes, they're form curves. They're not parallel to the highway either. They don't enclose anything. Some rows overlap each other. I have no idea what they are for.

Close to Cheyenne, I stopped at a rest area with a large sculpture of Lincoln's head.


Lincoln at a rest area in Wyoming. more pics

From Cheyenne, I took I-25 South to Denver. There's a lot of traffic! The first thing I noticed about Denver is how strange the drivers are. When the posted speed limit is 55 mph, they drive 70. when the posted speed limit is 75 mph, they still drive 70.

Salt Lake City, UT

Well, after writing that last entry, I went back to bed. It was 4:30 am. I woke up at 10:30 am, showered, dressed, and started to pack, but got too sleepy, so I plopped back onto the bed -- fully clothed -- for a short nap. The short nap lasted till 1:30 pm. Needless to say, it was too late to check out so I made the most of it.

After having my leftovers for brunch, I headed north on Redwood Street to look for the International Peace Gardens. I didn't find it. But I ended up on North Temple Street, so I decided to turn right there. Pretty soon, I started seeing some skyscrapers, which reminded me of the first time I saw Minneapolis. I turned right on West Temple Street Then I saw what looked like the temple and a museum, so I drove into a nearby parking garage right next to a Best Western.

The garage attendant asked me what I had planned to do. I said I was just going to take pictures of the temple and go to the museum. That's what I really planned to do. So, I paid $5 and looked for the entrance to the Temple Square. I walked in through the southern gate and was met by an older gentleman who gave me a map and told me about the tours. Imagine that! Tours! In a place of worship!


Part of Temple Square, viewed from the rooftop garden of the Conference Center. more pics

So, I went headed over to the white flagpole where the first tour starts, I stopped to take a few pictures of a structure to my left. A couple of young women approached me and chatted with me. I guess I must have looked lost. After a few minutes, I took the pictures and went over to the white flagpole where I met two more young women, one of whom was from Korea, so I greeted her with a Korean phrase that Bay, one of my classmates, taught me.

I later found out that these young women are here for an 18-month "mission" which is a time they dedicate to serve their church. My highschool friend Liway had told me about how she met her husband on her mission, who also did his mission in the same place in the Philippines, so I knew about the missions. These women left their families and friends, schools and jobs, to go wherever the church sends them. Often, they do it while they are young before they start families, or later in life after their children have moved out of their homes.

The tour was actually hosted by two other young women, one from Japan and the other from Argentina. They all introduced themselves to me. There were about ten of us in the tour group. The white flagpole stood right in front of the temple but the first stop was a few yards south so we could see the statue of the angel Moroni.


The Temple viewed from the east. more pics

The next stop was the building I was taking a picture of. It was the assembly hall. The guides told a story about how seagulls had saved the crops by transporting the pesty crickets away from the fields of the pioneers. So the tower (and water feature) in the front of the assembly hall was dedicated to the seagulls.


The Seagulls Monument and the Assembly Hall. more pics

The assembly hall looked like any other church. There was an impressive pipe organ in the front. I asked one of the guides if it still works. It does. Then they talked about the structure. The only wood available in the area was white pine, so the pioneers painted the pews to look like oak and the columns to look like marble.

The tabernacle next door is being renovated, so the guides encouraged us to come back next year to see it after the renovation. They said it's where the choir usually rehearses and performs because of the great acoustics created by the domed roof. While it's under renovation, the choir meets at the conference center. I wanted to hear them in person, but they have their rehearsals only on Thursdays and they perform only on Sundays.

We headed to the North Visitor Center, where we went up a circular ramp that looked like it led to a planetarium. But at the center of the upper floor under all the stars and nebulae is a huge white marble statue of Jesus. After that, they led us to a hallway of paintings of scenes from the Bible, where we filled out a comment card with checkboxes whether we wanted a copy of the Book of Mormon and whether we wanted missionaries to come visit us. I didn't check either one, but I wrote in the comment lines that the tour guides are friendly and are good storytellers.

Then I headed downstairs to look at the displays. I was approached by another young woman, who chatted with me and then introduced me to her companion who is also from the Philippines. We chatted in Tagalog for a while. I found out that she's a grade school teacher in Bicol and she's been here for less than a year. When her mission is over, she'll go back to the Philippines but she'll have to get her teaching license again. (It expires after three years.) I met the two of them in passing twice more. At 5 pm, I headed down one more floor to wait for the "First Vision" video that tells the story of Joseph Smith's first vision at age 14.


Paintings of stories from the Bible ...

... and paintings of stories from the Book of Mormon. more pics

As I got off the escalator, two new young women approached me. (They're all over the place, you'll never get lost.) I said I was waiting for the next showing and that I was going to look at the displays while waiting. They offered to talk to me about the displays, but I said I'd rather go on my own since I wanted to take pictures too. They said I could come to them if I had any questions. When I got towards the back end, I found an video screen that showed some of the teachings about inner peace. When I was done with it, I got up and realized that it got quiet. I was alone in that section for several minutes and it was a very soothing solitude. I walked across to another display and then there was another young woman who came to chat with me. I mentioned that I already had a book written by Gordon Hinckley, given to me by one of my friends. She said she read it too, but neither of us could remember the name of the book. She asked me if I had already requested my own copy of the Book of Mormon. I said I already filled out the form but I didn't check the boxes. I asked if she could give me a copy.

Something in the displays peaked my interest. It showed a stack of metal plates with etchings on them and the etchings looked like Egyptian pictographs. Joseph Smith had found those plates and translated them. The translation comprises the Book of Mormon. And that got me. (Throw in a little anthropology and you've got my attention.)

Unfortunately, she couldn't give me a copy; they usually mail it. I explained that I'm going to school and I wouldn't have time to read it when school starts next week. She tried to show me where I could get a copy in the Joseph Smith Memorial Building, but we found that they close at 5 pm. An older woman sitting behind a podium said that the book is available at the bookstore across the South Temple Street. I said I'd just go over there and buy it. Then the young woman led me into the auditorium for the video. Just before the showing started, she came by my seat and gave me a pamphlet instead and encouraged me to get the book. She was the most dedicated and sincerest I had met. She was almost tearful for not being able to provide me a copy, so I could read it before I got busy again.


The Conference Center with its waterfalls. more pics

After the video, I walked across North Temple Street to see the rooftop garden of the conference center. I was met by two young women again (one from Uruguay and the other from Japan). When I realized that I was the only one in the group, one of the older men sitting nearby said that it's the VIP tour. :-) Of course, I said "Kunichiwa" (which I learned from another classmate Satoru) and "Como estas?" (which I learned in my undergrad).

They took me to the conference room, which was so huge that it looked like an indoor sports arena. And there's another pipe organ in the front, much bigger than the one in the assembly hall. These two guides told me the full story about the metal plates.


The rooftop garden was made to look like the prairie that the pioneers encountered in the area. The tops of the buildings peek out over the wildflowers. more pics

Then they handed me off to another group heading up to the garden on the roof. The guide was an older woman and the only other guests were a mother and her two young boys. The view at the top was great! We saw a sliver of light in the horizon and the guide said that it's the Salt Lake. She said that it's not pretty at all, and besides it stinks. The mother agreed. :-) I said, "Darn, I was gonna go and take some pictures."


The setting sun lights a water feature in the rooftop garden. more pics

Well, the sun wasn't quite setting yet, so I walked along the east side of the Temple Square and took more pictures of the temple and the other buildings east of it. A young man on a bike asked for change then commented on my camera.

I went into the Memorial Building to look up my ancestry, but their computers simply looked things up on the web. And besides, I couldn't find anything when I searched for my maternal grandfather.

I walked down South Temple Street, gave up on the carriage ride because it costs $40, turned right into West Temple Street, met a man with a dog who also asked for change, and went into the museum. This museum was more like a real museum. There was one older woman dressed like the pioneers as part of the exhibit and she was glad to talk to me about the ship that some of the pioneers took from Liverpool to Boston.

When I got out, it was 8:30 pm and dark. I guess I won't be able to take pictures of the lake now.

From NV to UT

It was 10 am by the time I left Lake Tahoe. I couldn't sleep last night so it took me a while to wake up at 8 am. I showered, finished packing, loaded up the car and checked out. I didn't have to go all the way to the main tower. Sandy, the desk manager in my building, was on duty at the gate, so I just left my Express Checkout card with her.

The drive has been mostly hot. In fact, I have driven through desert from the time I hit Highway 329 after coming down the mountain, all the way to Salt Lake City. However, it's still high altitude (close to the 6000 level) so I kept seeing signs for snow chain installation areas.

I had a quick lunch at a McDonalds in Lovelock, NV, and took a quick stop at a rest area about 80 miles from Salt Lake City. Besides that and putting on gas, I pretty much drove straight through. Thankfully, I was wide awake and the highway was very easy to drive. It's mostly straight and, when it does go over a mountain, the grade is very gradual. There were only a couple of hills where I turned off my cruise control to keep the accelerator from gunning up the hill just to maintain the speed.

There was a brush fire on a mountain just after Elko, NV. I saw the plume of smoke at least 20 miles earlier in Carlin. I was going to wait until I got to Elko before filling up gas, but I figured the fire might require traffic to take a detour, so I filled up in Carlin instead.


The brush fire at Elko, NV. more pics

It turned out to be just a relatively small brush fire. You could see the black spot on the mountaintop with smoke coming out of it. There were small planes flying through the clouds, presumably trying to put out the fire. I didn't see them drop anything (well, I have to pay attention to the road, you know), but the smoke diminished soon after a pass. From the west, it looked like it was almost put out, but as I looked back after passing it, there was still fire visible on the eastern side of the mountain. A little further, I went under the cloud of smoke blown by the wind and the sun got an eerie yellow-orange color. It was like driving into the Twilight Zone, or some sci-fi fantasy movie.

By the way, I encountered three separate prison areas driving across Nevada. You could tell because there are numerous signs saying, "Prison area / Hitchhiking prohibited". So, even if you have smoke coming out from under your hood, you might wanna keep going for a few miles or so.

At 5 pm, I went over a ridge where I saw the signs signalling the start of Mountain Time Zone and the Utah border. As I went over the ridge, I saw the valley where the town of Wendover is, and, beyond the town, lay fields covered with a thin layer of snow. Snow?!? Then I thought it must be a mirage. After all, the temperatures are in the 90s! Well, it wasn't a mirage. The ground really was white. Like white sand in some places, like snow in other places. Then I thought it must be the salt. Maybe, the saltiness wasn't confined to the lake. Maybe the ground itself was salty. Well, I later studied the AAA TripTik map, which says it's the Great Salt Lake Desert, which probably used to be part of the Salt Lake before it shrank. It was several miles long -- at least ten.

I wonder if the grocery stores even bother to stock Morton Salt, since anyone could just stop at the side of the road and scoop up some....

When the actual lake came into view, it was actually nice. And it's blue. (I was expecting it to be white for some reason.) The sun was setting and I was tempted to stop at the marina (they have a marina!) to take pictures. The mountains in the east are turning a red then purple as the sun got lower. But I was worried about checking in before dark, so I didn't stop.


A quick peek at the Great Salt Lake. more pics

I got to Salt Lake City and onto the right street, but I couldn't find the Springhill Suites Hotel for the life of me. At the intersection where it was supposed to be, three corners were malls and one corner was an apartment complex. I called the hotel number and couldn't get a person. The message said that it was the Springhill Apartments and gave options for future tenants, current tenants, and emergency maintenance. I called Expedia and a very helpful Barry said it might be the apartments since the pictures online looked like apartments. He tried to call them too, as I went into the manager's office of the apartment complex to ask for the hotel. Well, it turned out that Springhill Suites is the same as the Springhill Apartments. They rent out some of the units, fully furnished.

I got into the unit and it's a good-sized unit but it doesn't feel safe. It's on the first floor. The front door has a deadbolt but the knob has no lock. The patio door doesn't seem very secure. The bedroom door has no lock. So, I pulled in one of the wrought-iron chairs from the dining room and propped it against the bedroom door.

I'm exhausted but I woke up at 3 am because of a sound in the plumbing system that startled me.

I think I'll switch hotels. I don't feel safe here.


PS: At one point, I saw a sign about a piece of the highway owned by the employees of Cargill Salt. Cargill? Aren't they a Minnesota company? And aren't they in biotech or something?
PPS: Apparently, they're worldwide. And they do dabble in salt.

Heavenly Village

I went down to town today after two days of staying in. I wasn't sure what I would do; I just figured I would walk around.

I ended up in the Heavenly Village shopping center. That strip mall wasn't there a few years ago. I remember coming to that strip mall a long time ago with Jon to buy a swimsuit and to browse at antiques in a pawn shop. There were only a few shops then; it was mostly an empty lot. Now, there are a lot more stores in it. The swimsuit store is gone; there is a different clothing store there now. I didn't even think to check if the pawn shop was still there.

Anyway, I started browsing at a store for beads and checked out the prices. The unfinished strands of pearls, similar to the ones I bought in the Philippines, cost $15. I found other pretty beads and trinkets but I didn't buy any. I found two art galleries and browsed the artwork. Then I found a store called "Artifacts" that had a lot of interesting stuff in it from different parts of the world. I got to a Jamba Juice and had a Mango-a-go-go with Matsa Green Tea Boost, which is their new thing. Then I headed back. I was bored.

Well, I'm going to bed. Tomorrow is a long day.

To Reno and back

I drove Papa and Thelma to the Greyhound terminal in Reno. We left around 10:15 this morning.

They were repaving Highway 207, so we waited a long time on our way down the mountain. Then we headed north on Highway 50. It went up Spooner Summit (Elevation: 7146 feet) then back down to the Carson Valley (Elevation: about 5000 feet), but the slope was manageable and the speed limit was only 50 mph.

The Carson Valley is very different from the Lake Tahoe area. It's a desert, dotted with sagebrush everywhere you look. And it's about 20 degrees warmer than Lake Tahoe.

We took Highway 395 north and stayed on it through Carson City. Highway 395 literally goes through Carson City, which is great for sightseeing (government buildings have beautiful architectural designs) but not so good if you're in a hurry (the speed limit starts at 70 mph and increasingly goes down to 25 mph in the city proper). When we hit I-80, we went west a little bit and took the Keystone exit. Reno is only 55 miles away, but we got to the bus terminal a little after noon -- almost two hours.

I took the same route heading back. I toyed with the idea of taking a detour to Virginia City, but I hadn't had lunch, I was thirsty, and it was way too hot for comfort (98 degrees). I stopped by a Carrows Restaurant in South Lake Tahoe for a very late lunch, and was served by a David Hasselhoff look-alike (but much better looking) named Michael, who had a sweet accent. I was too tired to make conversation though, so I didn't ask where he's from.

I'm back in the condo. I'm going for a quiet evening. But I have another three whole days here, so I might go for an adventure or two on my own before I head east.

Lake Tahoe

Lake Tahoe is one of my favorite places in the world. Clear blue water, beaches, pine trees, rocky terrain, great views, beautiful homes. I fell in love with it the first time I saw it.


Jet-skiing in Zephyr Cove. more pics

Tourist brochures say that Lake Tahoe is the largest alpine* lake in the world; it can cover the entire state of California in 14 inches of water and the state of Texas under 8.5 inches of water. They say that the water is so clear that it acts like a prism. The blue of the water reflects the sky. In shallow water, the color changes to green because it's the only color of the spectrum that the depth of the water can reflect back. The lake was formed by the two mountain ranges on two sides and sealed in by a volcanic eruption in the north end.


Green by the shore; blue in the middle; and indigo where it's deep. more pics

And, like Loch Ness, Lake Tahoe has its own fabled monster Tahoe Tessie, who is said to live under Cave Rock. Highway 50 runs through Cave Rock, one tunnel for each direction.

You can tell where the border lies between California and Nevada on Highway 50, because it's where the casinos start as you head north -- Harrah's on the east and Harvey's on the west. Unlike its neighbor Reno, Tahoe has fewer casinos. It's geared more towards sports, both in the summer and in the winter. Famous ski slopes, like Squaw Valley and Heavenly, surround the lake.

Nearby are Carson City and Virginia City, where the Comstock Lode is. Virginia City is like an old western town. A long time ago, Jon and I went on a tour of a silver mine in Virginia City, and at one point the tour guide turned off his flashlight. It was pitch black. After that, I swore never to go inside another mine again.


The day after we got married in 1985. See Vikingsholm Island behind Jon?

Lake Tahoe's beauty is not the only reason I keep coming back. It holds a lot of memories for me. I was married here one beautiful day in October 1985. Jon and I bought an odd-year timeshare here (the first property we bought) in 1994. I've been back every odd year since. Even after the divorce, I decided to keep the timeshare just because I love being in this place so much. And I've created more memories since.

There was the time Katia and I seriously thought about dumping the sleeping Harmony in the snow to make room for a couple of cute skiers who were hitchhiking. We were on our way to the Bay Area to spend Thanksgiving with my family. Katia was driving, Harmony was snoring softly in the passenger seat, and I had my head leaned back in the back seat with my sunglasses on. Katia didn't know I was awake. But after we passed the skiers thumbing for a ride, I saw her look back at me in the rearview mirror with a smile and a twinkle in her eye. "Darn! We don't have enough room," I said. She laughed; we were thinking the same thing. So, we started joking how we could just dump Harmony, since she was sound asleep anyway.

Two years later, my mom and I took the Greyhound and got caught in a blizzard on our way back down to the Bay Area. Two years after that, my mom went with me again, with my nephew Ian in tow. Over lunch at one of the restaurants Ian was amazed that I was able to guess how much money he had in his wallet (his mom told me) and that I knew he was not allowed to buy candy with it (his mom told me that too). Sometime later, he found out that I'm not really psychic. :-)


Boarding the MS Dixie II. more pics

This year, I took my dad and his wife, but they're only here for three nights. In the evenings, they go to the casinos and play the one-cent slots. Yesterday, we took a cruise on the MS Dixie II across the lake to Emerald Bay where we saw the Vikingsholm Castle and the ruins of the tea house that stood on a rocky island in the middle of the bay. I've taken this cruise almost every time I come here. I've also taken the Tahoe Queen, the other paddlewheel ferry on the lake, in a previous trip with my mom.


Vikingsholm Island. more pics

Today, we drove clockwise around Lake Tahoe, heading south on Highway 50, then north on Highway 89. We stopped at a few scenic vistas, including the trail head to Vikingsholm Castle. (Parking cost: $6) Unfortunately, we found out that the trail is a mile long and very steep. I didn't want to go on my own, besides my right knee is still sore, so we decided not to do it today. It will probably be better to rent a boat to go there instead, but that will be for next time. We continued north on Highway 89 until we got to Tahoe City, where we took Highway 28. (Highway 89 headed west to Truckee.) We stopped by a deli for a very late lunch (it was 4 pm). Then we continued around the lake.


Emerald Bay viewed from a turnout on the highway. more pics

The roads after Tahoe City were easier to maneuver than the roads around Emerald Bay. The southern part of Highway 89 were so narrow that the lakeside shoulder is non-existent. Instead, there's a very steep cliff in its place. The traffic going south aren't so lucky either; they were against a rocky mountainside. And at one point, there was a smaller lake on the west side (possibly Cascade Lake), so that there's only about two inches of (I wouldn't even dare say "solid") ground beyond the outer part of the white lines on both sides of the road. Tip: Unless your car has wings, follow the yellow speed signs around the curves.


Cave Rock today. more pics

We went through the tunnel in Cave Rock and turned into the boat launch several feet after. (Parking cost: $2 for daytime use) I have several pictures of this area too, but I took more pictures today. Then we sat on a picnic table under a tree for a while, enjoying the breeze (highs in the 80s today) and the view. Tip: Pay the parking fees, even if it's on an honor system. We decided to head out because I saw a bearded guy peeking into cars and I got worried. I didn't see him peek into my car because there was an SUV between us but I saw his feet walking around my car, pausing, and then heading towards the SUV. When we got closer, I saw him tuck a slip of paper on the windshield of the SUV. That's when I realized he was the parking guy. (Well, he wasn't wearing a uniform.) He said hi when he passed us as we walked to the car, then he waved again as we drove away.

Okay, so I may be paranoid, but he could still be a thief pretending to be the parking guy....


* Lake Tahoe is 6285 feet above sea level.

From CA to NV

The trunk and half the backseat were full. We had to move stuff around to fit Papa and his wife Thelma and their bags. Traffic was light, so we got to South Lake Tahoe in three and a half hours.

My timeshare condo is outside the main complex of the Ridge Resorts and the units in my building had been remodelled since I was last here. The furniture, the carpet, the decorations, the curtains are all new and nicer. The shuttle service has changed: they now charge $1 per person per trip and BlueGo Casino now provides the shuttle service to and from the casinos, instead of Harrah's. Ridge Resorts still has shuttles going from one building to another.

After dinner with the food that Thelma brought along, I took a nap and they took a shuttle down to the casinos.

Bay Area

These few days are terribly busy. Soon after arriving on Wednesday, my dad and I picked up my car from the storage, then I spent a few hours at my sister Sam's basement to download and print some documents from email. The next day, we went to the Philippine Consulate in San Francisco to have those documents notarized. Yesterday, I went back to the consulate by myself to pick up those documents, since that would be faster than having them mailed.

While waiting at the consulate, I went out in the hallway to respond to voice messages that I got while I was out of the country. Then, while I was on the phone, I noticed a familiar face inside a glass-windowed room. She was with a couple of people next to a display of Philippine-made products. While she listened to them, she looked at me with a knot on her brow. She was probably trying to remember who I was too. Then it hit me. She's the Philippine Trade Commissioner for the US western region; I met her last June at the Philippine Trade Conference in Seattle. After I got off the phone, I waved at her and she came out. She remembered my last name but I had to remind her of my first name. She told me what was going on in San Francisco. She's organizing a trade tour of the Philippines for businesses that want to do business there. Then she took me down to the fifth floor for a preview of an art show. They weren't open yet, but they allowed us in. She said there would be cocktails there later and she invited me to come, but I had to get going after I picked up my documents.

In the evening, I drove to my sister Dee's home in Brentwood. The drive was shorter but it was still more than an hour. A big bright full moon rose on the horizon as I got close to Brentwood. Two of Ian's cousins were sleeping over. Dee was putting Stone to bed but he won't sleep yet, so Dee sifted through the pasalubong I brought with me. Carlo's shirt wouldn't fit him, so Ian got it instead. The cousins got a hematite necklace each. Later in the evening, I played Hilarious and Guesstures with Ian and his cousins, then I got on the computer and stayed up all night.

I drove back to Alameda today, got an oil change with a free carwash*, washed clothes, and packed. I have the big suitcase and a duffle bag full. Then I have small items in smaller bags. Would we all fit in my car?


* If you live anywhere near Oakland, California, try the High Street Car Wash Oil and Lube, just across the street from the Shell gas station off of the High Street exit of Highway 880. The least expensive wash is $14, but the $22 car wash comes free with an oil change. But whatever the price of the car wash, it's well worth it. They take incredibly good care of your car. The car is vacuumed, then it goes through a washing station. After it gets out, one or two people do the finishing touches which could take at least a half-hour. First, they wipe the car dry. And not just the outside -- they open each door and wipe down the door edges and jambs. Then they wipe the vinyl surfaces inside the car. Then they spray the windshield and the windows with glass cleaner and wipe them down -- inside and out! Then, if the side of your car has a plastic bottom, they scrub that, too, taking care not to touch the paint. Then, they use a scrub with tire cleaner to clean your tires. And you know that part of the body that goes around your tire? They clean a couple of inches inside of that too! Those people aren't car wash employees; they are car wash artists!

From MNL to SFO

Derrick dropped me off at the airport after a quick visit to see his wife Angela. Only ticketed passengers are allowed into the terminal, so we loaded up my balikbayan box, my suitcase, and my daypack onto a cart. Guards checked my ticket and passport before allowing me in.

Inside, I had to go through a security checkpoint where they scanned my baggages and where I had to go through a metal detector. One of the assistants helped me unload and reload my cart and led me to the ticket counter, where he again unloaded my baggages. I got my boarding pass and an Immigration form to fill out and was directed to a booth where I had to pay the airport fee of PhP550 or US$10. I gave them two five-dollar bills. Then I went to a line for Immigration where they picked up the form. Then to another line where they carefully examined the contents of my handcarry and my purse. Then I was free to go to my gate N6. The area was taped off. I was told it was okay to go ahead and sit down. They would do the checks later on.

After a while, they called all passengers of my flight to step outside the area and get in line for another security check. We all got in line. That's when I realized I hadn't had dinner, so I went to nearby stall and asked if there was a restaurant in the airport where I could get dinner. There was none, so I bought a couple of mamons (similar to a pound cake), macapuno (candies made with young coconut), and a bottle of water. I put them in my handcarry and went back in line.

We had to go through another x-ray machine (this time, taking our shoes off as well). Then we were individually screened with metal detector wands which were so sensitive that even my earrings made them beep. Our bags and shoes were placed in trays which we had to pick up after we were scanned. No point following that travel advice about keeping an eye on your luggage. You'll just have to hope that nobody picks up that expensive camera equipment you bought last month because it will be out of sight while they scan you. Then you get in line for the "final documents check" where you show your passport, your boarding pass, and other documents.

That was two hours before the flight. If you need to use the bathroom, you'll have to exit the secure area and give your passport number to a security guard. When you come back, you'll have to go through the same x-ray, scanning, and documents check again.

Well, I survived that ordeal, but I was dreading the flight itself. I sat between two men in a three-seat row. And when the guy in the aisle went to the bathroom, we all went to the bathroom. It was just more convenient that way so he didn't have to get up several times just to let us out or in. The good thing about this plane was that each seat had its own screen so you didn't have to strain to watch a movie. And you can choose among several movies. I watched "A Lot Like Love", a little bit of "Miss Congeniality 2" (which I already watched on the flight to the Philippines), and a little bit of "Kingdom of Heaven".

We had dinner soon after we got on the air. They offered snacks halfway through the flight. And we had breakfast a few hours before we landed. There was a call for a medical doctor about an hour before we landed. I don't know for whom or why. We landed at 7:45 in the evening, fifteen minutes late. Then we had to wait for the paramedics to come and get the patient out of the plane and into an ambulance. Then we were finally out.

First, we went through Immigration. After stamping my passport, the Immigration official was handing it back to me when he asked me, "Were you a good girl while you were over there?" I smiled.

Once Jan told me to behave and I replied that I always do, but not always in a good way. Then he switched to telling me to be a good girl. And I had a few smart-aleck responses to that too.

So, when the official asked me that question, I smiled and said, "I tried." He wouldn't let go of my passport and he looked like he couldn't let me through unless I gave the right answer. If he was holding a smile in, he was very good at it. After a few moments of silence, I finally said, "Yes, I was." And he set me free.

Well, how can I be serious if someone calls me a "girl" at my age?

At the baggage claim, there was another delay. There were too many passengers and the carousel was too small that they had to slow down the loading of the bags. Then the carousel got stuck, so we had to wait for that too.

Then Customs asked if I had been in a farm. I said I did, but I discarded the flipflops I used then. I had no fruits or vegetables or seeds, so I was fine there. They asked if I had any soil with me. I said I had some sand. She asked if it came from a farm. I said it came from the beach. She smiled. Another Customs official asked me what was in the balikbayan box. I said it contained a clay pot (my sister's banga) and clothes. Then they let me through.

My dad and his wife found me easily. There were monitors in the waiting area that showed the passengers as they were exiting the terminal, so they saw me coming out. It was 9:30 pm.

Divisoria

Divisoria is a district in Manila. It's Shopping Heaven if you know how to haggle. It used to be a very large open-air market or "tiangge" where you can buy almost anything at really cheap prices. Retailers buy their supplies there.

Now, there's an air-conditioned Divisoria Mall, but it's still more fun to shop in the old section, where the stalls are filled to the hilt with merchandise. Some stalls even have attics where merchants keep additional inventory. Aisles are very narrow -- you have to squeeze by people who stop to look at merchandise and delivery people with boxes or bundles either on carts or on their shoulders.

As you walk by the stalls, women would call out in a charming tone:

"Ate, bili na."
Sister, buy.

"Ate, pasok na."
Sister, come in.

"Mura lang."
Cheap.

"Iba-ibang design."
Different designs.

"Ate, halina."
Sister, come.

I bought barongs for my nephews (PhP150 or US$3 each for the smaller ones and PhP250 or US$5 for the bigger one) and a hand-painted hand-embroidered formal Filipiniana outfit for me (PhP1000 or US$20). Embroidered women's blouses and contemporary embroidered men's shirts are PhP250 or US$5 each. Pashmina shawls are PhP100 or US$2 each. Sundresses are PhP120 or US$2.40 each. I found materials for business suits at PhP250 or US$5 per yard, and lining material for PhP30 or 60 cents per yard. There are very few vendors who carry native crafts.*

However, in Divisoria, you have to be very careful with your wallet; there are a lot of pickpockets that prey on people who are engrossed in their negotiations with vendors. And you have to wear decent walking shoes; you'll be walking a lot. Divisoria is the size of a small community. And you have to roam around and check prices from a few vendors before buying; otherwise, you'll feel bad when you find a cheaper price for something you already bought.

There are different methods of haggling:

The half-price method: Ask how much an item is. When the vendor gives a price, offer half of it. If the vendor counter-offers, increase your offer by a little bit. If the vendor still counter-offers or refuses, start walking away. They might still move the price lower to keep you from leaving.

The final price method: When the vendor gives a price, ask what the final price is. The final price is the lowest they will go. This method saves haggling time.

The wholesale discount method: If you're buying several pieces, ask for the wholesale price.

Sometimes, when you haggle, the vendor would refuse to go below a price and say it's "sulit" or "sagad". It means that the quoted price is their cost basis or pretty close to it.

Tips:

• Vendors are more willing to negotiate if you haggle a lot before walking away. It shows that you're really interested in purchasing the item if you find the right price.
• You can get volume discounts with as few as three pieces of the same item. You can even get volume discounts if you buy one each of several items from the same vendor.
• Keep an eye on what the vendor puts in the bag. Make sure everything you bought is in there. Make sure the sizes are correct. Inspect each item for defects.
• If you find imperfections, you can use that as a haggling point.
• Vendors quote higher prices for foreigners. If you don't look like a Filipino, expect to pay more. Even if you're a balikbayan, if you have even a slight accent (like I do), bring a local with you and keep your mouth shut.**

* Cubao (another district in Manila) might be a better place for native crafts, but I didn't have time to go.
** When my mom visited the Philippines five years ago after a long absence, she ventured to Divisoria by herself. A vendor said, "Balikbayan kayo, ano?" You're a balikbayan, aren't you? She asked how the vendor knew, and the vendor replied that she could tell from the way my mom held herself, the way she moved, the way she talked, and the way she dressed. The vendor added, "Iba ang amoy ng balikbayan." The balikbayan's scent is different.

From Zambales to Manila

It feels like the first leg of my journey home. Although I have three weeks left, it feels like my vacation is over.

We left the resort around 4 am today and arrived in Quezon City around 9 am. Thankfully, the rain stopped, so the ride was uneventful. Auntie Baby stayed behind to spend more time with me.

In the evening, Auntie Baby and I met my stepbrother Rey and his wife Malou at the SM MegaMall in Ortigas. Apparently, malls are cropping up everywhere; the bigger, the better. This mall is big. It's nowhere as big as the Mall of America in Minnesota, but this is one of the biggest malls in the Philippines.

We had dinner at Dad's Restaurant in the mall. It's a buffet with Japanese, Chinese, Spanish, and Filipino dishes. And, of course, there were the traditional Filipino desserts.

Afterwards, Rey went to get his haircut while we roamed the mall. When the mall closed, we passed by a place where they sell parols. A parol is a traditional Christmas display. It is a star, representing the star of Bethlehem, traditionally made of a frame of bamboo sticks covered by colored cellophane. Nowadays, it is made of capiz shells with small Christmas lights inside the star.

We passed by a place that makes bibingka (traditional pancakes cooked in a charcoal oven and topped with cheese and boiled eggs) and watched how they're made.

Pasalubong

My sister had asked for a banga. It's a clay pot used to cook rice in. She also wanted the stand that it sits on and where you put the charcoal. Apparently, there's a version for wood cooking, which has a lower lip that protrudes forward. I bought the charcoal version. Cost is PhP90 (US$1.80). But it's heavy. I'm still deciding whether to ship it (shipping will probably cost 30 times more, not to mention the packing materials) or to pack it in a balikbayan box (the way the airlines throw luggage around, we'd be lucky if it makes it to the US without breaking). She probably expected me to handcarry it, but I have too many electronics that are worth more than her banga, so handcarrying the banga is out of the question.

Last Sunday, I bought a bagful of jewelry from Malali. Somehow, he conned his companions to let him sell to me alone. He had a lot more inventory this time. Necklaces and bracelets made of pearls, corals, and wooden beads. We took a long time to haggle on the price. He obviously bought a lot of pearls thinking that I would buy all of them. So, when I decided to buy just a few of the pearls, he gave in and gave me the price I wanted. He even slashed the prices on other items I wasn't even thinking of buying. I got 21 strands of pearls (unfinished), six necklace-and-bracelet sets made of pearl, and 17 sets made of the multi-tone corals. And the rest of his inventory, he offered them free.

Today, we visited a pastillas-maker and ordered 20 packs (each with 18 sticks) of the "special" kind. He wouldn't give us the wholesale price but he said he'll add two packs for free. I took pictures of how his children made the pastillas. All they did is filter the carabao's milk, add sugar, and let it boil until it thickens. Then they wrap them in rice paper. The pastillas has a shelf life of three weeks. Longer if it's refrigerated.


Pastillas. more pics

Nanay Percing, the cook at the resort, also agreed to make some bocayo for me to take home. Bocayo is made from shredded coconut and panutcha, a sweetener like concentrated brown sugar that looks like a block of chocolate.

I'm packing a small Ziploc bag of sand for my Zen garden. And I'm taking the shells and stones and corals that I found on the beach during my walks.

I'm also doing more shopping in Manila, so I'll have more stuff to take home as pasalubong.

Mano po.

Filipino kids learn early on to respect their elders. Besides being obedient and humble, we were taught to speak with respect, and that means using plural pronouns and adding "po" to sentences. "Po" does not translate to English at all. It simply indicates a respectful stance.

Another custom that we were taught is to "mano"* or touch an elder's right hand to your forehead. It's like asking for a blessing, kinda like kissing the pope's ring. At the same time, you say, "Mano po."

The last time I was in the Philippines, I was among the younger generation and I was the one who used "po" and who did the "mano." All of a sudden, I'm among the older generation, and many younger cousins and nieces and nephews are grabbing my hand to touch to their foreheads and adding "po" to every sentence.

All of a sudden, I feel old.


* "Mano", with emphasis on the first syllable, is a Tagalog word that comes from the Spanish word for "hand." The "mano" in "Mano ti sakam?" has the emphasis on the second syllable and is in Ilocano, a dialect used in parts of northern Philippines. There are 1,700 dialects used in the country. (I remember that number because there are 7,100 islands in the country. Possibly more during low tide. ;-) ) There are several words in Tagalog that have different meanings depending on which syllable the emphasis falls on. In grade school, we learned to use different accent marks to indicate where the emphasis falls, but I forget what they are, primarily because grade school was eons ago!

Kabatuan: a day in the rice fields

Rice fields. more pics

It was cloudy and rainy, but the rain was intermittent and, when it fell, it was light. Auntie Baby picked me up at the resort and took me to her house where everybody else was to meet.

Pretty soon, we had their jeep (which they bought from the US Navy when the Subic base was closed) loaded up with ingredients for lunch, bags with change of clothes, and bamboo fishing poles. The girls crowded in the jeep with Uncle Usse driving, and the boys hopped on the trailer.

There was a whole slew of us: Auntie Baby, Uncle Usse, their eldest John Paul, their daughter MaryAnne, (their youngest Vincent stayed home,) our two young cousins Vir and Jerson, Uncle Usse's nieces Bernadette (nicknamed Badette), Alex, Irene, Abigail, Sharmy and Kate (Sharmy and Kate are also balikbayan from Guam and they're moving to Long Beach, CA after the summer vacation), their neighbors Eric and Pogpog, and me.

Auntie Baby's second son Jeffrey came to meet us at the start of the trail with a cariton (cart) pulled by a carabao. The bags were moved to the cart and the jeep was left behind. A few rode the cart; the rest of us walked. MaryAnne later remarked that riding the cart was harder because the big rocks make the ride very bumpy, which makes one's behind very sore.


The carabao-pulled cart. more pics

The trail to Auntie Baby's bukid (rice field) was very muddy and there were streams of rainwater still flowing on the path. It was easy walking if you had the right footgear, which I didn't. My slippers were too slippery and tended to get stuck in the foot-deep mud, so I walked barefoot when I could. Even barefoot, I still had several near-slips, but at least the mud releases my feet more easily. At one point, I lost one my slippers and took a while to find it because it was buried six inches in the mud. We also had to cross a small river that got to above my knees. I must say, my treks on the trails of Seattle have trained me well; otherwise, I wouldn't have enjoyed the walk. :-)

When we got to Jeffrey's house, they started cooking lunch, while a few of us went a little further to the river. The river is called "kabatuan," which means a place with many rocks. The root word "bato" means stone or rock. MaryAnne jokes, "Ang agaaga, gusto na ninyong mag-ice cream." (It's very early, [and] you already want ice cream.) Someone asked what ice cream she was talking about, since we didn't bring any with us. She explained, "Kabatuan. Rocky Road."

The river was swollen and flowing faster than usual. John Paul, Jerson, and Uncle Usse waded in a short distance and tried to fish anyway; they didn't catch anything.


John Paul, Jerson, and Uncle Usse fishing. more pics

The kids from the neighboring fields saw us and joined the party, but we just hung out in and around the nipa hut. While the others chatted and played with the baby, I took pictures of the kids, who were fascinated with seeing themselves in the tiny LCD screen.

I cut Alex's bangs because she wanted it cut before having her picture taken. Later, I also cut MaryAnne's hair, but it had started raining so I didn't get a chance to take her picture.

Lunch was a noisy affair with dogs and cats begging for scraps and humans chasing them away. Jeffrey had found some fancy (shiitake?) mushrooms and we had that with other vegetables and some fish. Later, we had kamote (a kind of yam) to snack on.

After a while, we headed back to Auntie Baby's house, since we couldn't go fishing anyway. The walk back was just as fun. But this time, I knew how to spot -- and avoid -- deep mud.

Sea water and sky water

No errands to run today. I was going to stay in my room to work in my business planning, but the people in the resort next door started singing on the videoke. To escape the assault on my ears, I went for a walk on the beach, my second walk since I got here.

I walked faster than usual. I was hoping to get a little workout.

There were a number of people on the surf - visitors bathing and playing with the waves, locals fishing and diving for shellfish. Some fishermen would crouch and cast a net when they see fish in the waves. Some would use a long net to trawl for fish as they dragged it near the shore. Some stood in waist-deep waters with fishing poles made of long thin bamboo reeds.


Trawling for fish. more pics

The tide was low and the water is adventurine green where the beach dips down. I could see several small sandbars just under the surface of the water near the shore. I figured there was a big sandbar about a half mile out because there was surf breaking there as well.

There was a lot of seaweed on the sand, but I also found a number of nice shells, bigger than the ones I saw before. I found a palm-sized one but it's already broken; I took it home anyway.

I also found a small dark gray snake in the water as I rinsed off some shells I picked up. It was about a half-inch in diameter and a foot long. It wriggled back into the water when I saw it. It looked like it was having a hard time getting traction and the waves were just pulling it into the sea with the undertow.

I stopped at the same place I got to last time and stood watching the waves. The beach is cleaner there, the sand is coarser, and the water is a deeper green.


Rain clouds and sea waves. more pics

I was taking pictures when I noticed that the clouds are getting darker. Actually, it's just one big long cloud, like a weather front. At first, it looked like it was heading north. I could see rain falling in the distance at one end of the cloud. Then after a few minutes, I realized the cloud had changed direction and was coming to shore. So I started heading back. I didn't want to be caught out there in a thunderstorm.

On my way back, I noticed that the back side of the cloud was pouring rain. The weather front came towards the shore and southward in an arc and I could see where the arc was because the rain fell like a soft curtain behind the cloud. Then little droplets fell. Then pelting rain with some wind. Thankfully, no lightning and no thunder. (I remembered to bring a Ziploc bag for my camera and my cellphone in case a wave caught me unawares, so they were safe in the rain.)


The curtain of rain heading my way. more pics

I was wearing my glasses and, even though I had a baseball cap on, they were getting wet because the wind was blowing the rain sideways. I had to take off my glasses so I could see better, although "better" is a relative term since I have a very high prescription and I only see vague shapes and colors without contact lenses or glasses.

After the pelting rain, the rain softened to nice big drops. It was still pouring. Then the rain let up a bit, although it was still falling. I got my glasses back on and wiped the lenses as best as I could with my finger. That's when I saw how beautiful the rain really is. It falls differently on water, differently on packed sand by the surf, and differently on loose sand. And, oh, it felt so good. Unfortunately, it ended too soon.

I continued walking. Most of the fishermen stayed out in the water the whole time it was raining. The visitors had taken shelter. Pretty soon, I was back at the resort. My stash of collected shells, corals, and stones have more than doubled since my last walk.

The rain still pours heavily in spurts. And, just now, I heard thunder....

Text Capital of the World

My cousin Derrick says that the Philippines was dubbed the "Text Capital of the World." Apparently, the Philippines broke some record in the number of text messages sent during one Christmas season. I'm not surprised. At the back of every jeepney, taxi, bus, and delivery truck, "How's my driving?" is followed by a cell number to send a text message to and a landline number to call. Most billboard ads include a text message to send to a cell number; very few include a website address.

Jan was the one who introduced me to text messaging ("texting"?). Coming from a corporate culture in the software industry, I'm more an email person. But text messaging is apparently very common in Europe as well.

I love the English language, and I am an editor at heart. I notice misspellings everywhere (except in my own work, of course), and I cringe when I see them. So, at first, I was appalled by Jan's atrocious "spelling" in his text messages, particularly since his undergrad major was English. But then, I figured it's kinda hard to push those small buttons. Besides, I have to give him credit for being a very fast button-pusher. (I'm reluctant to use the word "typist" in this case, since it's not a keyboard. "Keypaddist"?) I, on the other hand, stayed with the T9 mode and spelled out each word in its entirety. So, naturally, I am very slow in responding.

Then I came to the Philippines, and my spelling sensitivities have been blaring alarms each time I received a text message, which is a hundred times more often than I got in the US.

In English, people tend to go by phonetics, or pretty close to it.

Gud am! R u ok 4 dinner 2moro?
Good morning! Are you okay for dinner tomorrow?

F u hav d tym, w8 4 me.
If you have the time, wait for me.

In Tagalog, it gets worse, since Tagalog words tend to be longer and tends to repeat parts of the word, if not the entire word.

Pbalik2 n kmi, wl p ring halo2.
Pabalikbalik na kami, wala pa ring halo-halo.
We keep returning, still no halo-halo.

Also, consonants in the Tagalog alphabet are pronounced as though followed by the short letter a. So, the alphabet is "a", "ba", "ka", "da", and so on. (All "a" sounds are short.) So, the "a" after the consonant is often dropped.

Nagbbkskli lng ako.
Nagbabakasakali lang ako.
I was just hoping.

Sometimes, only the consonants remain.

Pwd k n b?
Puwede ka na ba?
Are you allowed/available yet?

Often, only the root word is used, if the tense can be inferred from the context.

Punta n kyo d2.
Pumunta na kayo dito.
Come here.

There are only 21 letters in the Filipino alphabet, so the "unused" letters in the Roman alphabet (i.e.: "c" and "j") are used in place of diphthongs, or syllables that sound like the English letter.

Cge, punta n kmi jan.
Sige, papunta na kami diyan.
Okay, we are going there. (We are on our way.)

Even before text messaging became a fact of life, Filipinos already shorten words. "Hindi" (no, not) becomes "di". "Mayroon" (there is/are) becomes "meron".

It gets further complicated by the fact that Filipinos mix English and Tagalog words. So, depending on the context:

• "s" can mean "is" (English) or "sa" (Tagalog, indicates a place)


• "d" can mean "the" (English) or "[hin]di" (Tagalog)


• "c" can mean "see" (English) or "si" (Tagalog, indicates a person)

What s d street n ppunta s banko? D ko maala2.
What is the street na papunta sa banko? Di ko maalala.
What is the street to go to the bank? I don't remember.

Cguro c Ann2 ung 2mwag. C u 2moro.
Siguro si Ann-Ann yung tumawag. See you tomorrow.
Maybe Ann-Ann is the one who called. See you tomorrow.

I was about to lose my sanity when I realized that the abbreviations are a necessity. Text messages have a limit of 160 characters per message. If it goes over that, you pay for two messages.

And you save time as well. It takes four button presses to get to the letter "s". And anybody who watches Wheel of Fortune knows that "s" is one of the most commonly used letters in English. Unfortunately, we would just have to deal with this inefficient keypad design, like we deal with the QWERTY keyboard.

Well, after more than a month at this, I'm getting fairly fluent in this new language/dialect/code/whatever. I'm still not as fast as Jan in entering messages, but I can read fairly fast now.

Cge, un n lng. C u l8r.
Sige, iyon na lang. See you later.
Okay, that's it. See you later.