Part 4: Home is where the Heart is
A noise awakens me from a deep sleep. As I look out my plane window I see a castle perched high on a mountain top. Floating past it like a bird, I realize I am in Taipei, China. Just 12 hours ago I was frantic at SFO with what I thought might have been trouble with my “balikbayan” boxes. My apprehension was quickly put to rest by Sherry at the China Airlines ticket counter.
I am 40 plus kilos over my allotted weight and have three boxes extra as well. Usually I would be charged substantially for this, but she knows what I am bringing to the poor. God bless for miracles and for people like Sherry. In a few hours I will board my plane to finally take me to Manila. Since the six months I have been in the States I have found myself often in a dream-like state. I keep thinking of the house I am going to build in the Philippines, on the beach, under the coconut trees, looking over the magnificent Pacific Ocean. It is much grander than what I had first planned; I will be building extra rooms for when Benjie, Jennifer, and the kids visit on vacation. Yes it’s time to come home.
Before going to the Philippines, I had thought of settling in Baja, Big Sur, Mexico. Within five years of searching, I have found what I thought to be as close to Shangri-La as possible. It only took less than two months and half a world away to find my other home. Home is where the heart is and my heart is in the Philippines. To me it is compared to what some say is “true love”-you can’t find it, it has to find you. My life’s plans have once again dramatically changed, which is nothing new for my friends and for those who know me—they just smile and shake their heads. This time I will stay a couple of months again, with an agenda to prepare for a longer duration of a few years or more. My house in the United States has been sold, and ownership of my Hovercraft Company will be as well. Truthfully, business has not been all that good, I have a good amount of money and there is little use for my motor home anymore.
As I unpack at the hotel, I realize that I no longer have my cameras or lenses. A report is filed along with a reward, with China Airlines. Although dismayed, I know that there are more important things to worry about. One of the most important items on my list is to see the family that I saw the last time I was here; they were living outside the bus depot in Manila. That family has been in my thoughts and in my heart ever since meeting them. Noling, my driver, is unavailable, so his sister, Judy is my companion. When we arrive at the depot, we ask about them and their whereabouts. The mother is surprised to see me, and tells me that the small girl is finally back in school. The three of us get into a taxi back to my hotel, where I give the mother the clothes I had brought for them. We have lunch, sort through the clothes and I give the mother a small amount of money to get started in a cigarette-and-gun business. The money is not much, I can make this amount in a hour or two back in the states. A little from me, a lot for their existence.
On Saturday, I treat myself to a break a few hours drive south from Manila to Laguna Cavite where there are waterfalls and geothermal lakes. Far from the city noise and crowds, the countryside is peaceful. My guide for this excursion and new friend “Boy” is a homicide detective for the P.N.P. in Manila. When traffic seems not to be moving fast enough, he turns on his siren to get us through. What a combination, a crazy Irishman and a crazy cop!
I take a dip a nature’s hot springs and have a three hour massage by a professional masseuse. I almost feel guilty about feeling so good. Tuesday morning at the crack of dawn, I turn on the T.V. for something interesting, and interesting is what I got! The 49ers were playing the Redskins on Monday night football!!
Soon I will check out and visit Franco and Noling. Franco is the bodyguard of the mayor of Catbalogan, about 30 kilometers from Manila. Both of them will travel with me to Samar, the next island south of Luzon. With the start of the monsoon season, I am warned the seas are too rough for passage. I am somewhat disappointed that I cannot travel by boat this time.
On my last night before I leave for Samar, I take time to enjoy the nightlife in Makati, Manila. Only two weeks ago I confessed to my older brother Michael that somehow I still had a place for the Filipina that broke my heart 12 years ago. But my heart is alive and well, and I found it where it belongs, in the Philippines.
Roadwarriors copy written
dustyroadsagain@gmail.com
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