Slow Down

When you see a sign like this on the road, it usually means there is some kind of work going on on or near the road.

In Truk, the entire road was being worked on. Needless to say, traffic was slow.

It's treacherous going for huge trucks like this one.

It's to the point where walking gets you further than riding.

Unless you're riding a bike.

But if you're a kid, you wouldn't care if it took you forty-five minutes or four minutes to get to school. Heck, if you were a kid you probably wouldn't care to go to school!

 Whoooooah, slow down... is that a kid on the back of a flat bed truck?

Indeed it is! She couldn't be more than two years old!

This little guy couldn't even be in pre-kindergarten!

Indeed, slow down!

Time on the Loboc River

It had been several years since my last visit to the Loboc River. The latest visit was prompted by the unexpected arrival of Dr. J and his family, in Bohol for a day and a half to close out the Catholic season of ordinary time. 

I was greeted by a whole new system on the Loboc River since the last time I visited.

The pump boat cruise port used to be a single outfitter that sailed from a rickety bamboo dock off the highway side fo the river, just below a souvenir shop that attracted gawky-eyed tourists with wide-eyed, catatonic Tarsier monkeys held hostage in a tentlike cage. [I'm digressing, and thank goodness it is now prohibited by law to keep the world's tiniest primate in captivity for commercial purposes.] This time I was quite awed to see an efficiently managed port nestled on the other side of the river, with a variety of shops selling Bohol souvenirs.

It was a wonderful setting for photographers of all ages and experience, like Dr. J's youngest boy...

... and Freda, a dainty young photographer who shot with a Nikon D60. "Just like mine!" I squealed with camaraderie when she showed me her camera.

While waiting to board our boats, we were entertained by soulful guitars...

While on the boat, we were entertained by a soloist singing tunes from Jimmy Buffet to Max Surban.

Even on the river itself, singers and dancers from seven to seventy years of age sang and danced for us.

The boats now are catamarans pushed by flat-hulled pump boats. As we approached our boat approached the other boats on the river, I noticed their names. Is it just in the Philippines where names are so far from originality? Riverwatch, as in Baywatch... Love Boat...

How long has the river's edge been retained by gnarly roots? I wonder.

What kind of nature-defying stunts will continue to crop up in this wilderness? The tiny, barely visible dots suspended on cables in the sky between the trees are people zip lines. I find it ironic that they wear helmets. What for? That's quite a long drop from the cables to the river... Just sayin'. Again, I digress...

Anyway, on to brighter thoughts. Like food. We ate like kings and queens on the river boat!

Don't let that glum face on Dr. J's second son fool you. We all had a great time.

I think we all had a great time. No? He looks like he's having a good time. Maybe.

After the river cruise, we all packed in our car like sardines, and headed for a refreshment for the more sophisticated connoisseurs of modern tastes.

The mall. Specifically Jollibee.

Time flies when you're having a great time!

Trukese Auto Shop

This is MJ's, Kyle's, & Lana's Parents' auto shop in Truk. It's fairly new, maybe four years running now, and staying very busy, especially since the roads in Truk are seemingly hopeless.

The mechanics at the shop have to be inventive and creative because resources are limited. Sometimes, they have to fabricate their own parts!

And instead of security cameras, there is a big window that lets MJ's Mom see everything that goes on in the shop from  the office/store.

Sometimes, business is dealt in the privacy of the deeper niches of the shop.

Niches where little chickens were hatched by light bulb incubation.

Niches where green bananas are ripened by the heat of the machines.

 

This is a thread maker, and according to MJ's Dad, is currently not working. Hmph, so much for my theory about the banana ripening niche.

 But as talented and ingenious as MJ's Dad is, somehow he'll make the whole thing work again with the use of these gadgets... watchamacallits.

 

"Yeah," MJ's Mom said. "This old broken generator will rise from its steely death one day."

That's the kind of magic that MJ's Dad can do in his auto shop.

Tsunami Warning

First off, my prayers and good will to all who live in Japan, including my niece Akiko and her parents who live in Nagoya. I heard the news about the horrific 8.9 magnitude earthquake in Japan early this morning. No blog post can outweigh the impact of this catastrophe.

I haven't heard from any of my family in Micronesia or the Philippines, or the Mainland west coast. I did get a message from one of the shipping lines that I work with.

I have a container that just left Tacoma, WA last weekend, headed for Guam. I wish Horizon Lines would send updates too.

Lessons At a Carwash

Pampanga Detour

The flight from Cebu to Manila is just a little over an hour. As short as that is, I still take Dramamine, and especially because it is typhoon season. So I was asleep before we took off. And this is what I saw upon waking up.

Ladies and gentlemen, this is NOT Manila!

I don't care what planet you're one, this ain't Manila!

Aside from the vast fields of grass, I know this isn't Manila because 

1. Use of cell phones and electronic devices are not permitted, yet passengers are not being reprimanded for doing so.

2. The airplane door is wide open, and no one is either getting on, or getting off. By the way, Asian flight crew are very handsome and pretty, don't you think?

Come to find out this is what happened: our flight was instructed to standby over Cavite, over which we were doing donuts. Well, not really; I'd be hurling the entire contents of my stomach if this were the case, even on an entire bottle of Dramamine. After fifteen minutes of flying circles, our captain announced that we were not able to land because of some special ops taking place at the airport in Manila (later, he admitted that the president was boarding an aircraft, and all other flight plans were postponed in the meantime), and because we were running dangerously low on fuel (according to Cousin Nelia, who was picking us up in Manila, "the ground agent told me there were only two liters of fuel left in the tank!") we had to divert to an alternate airport to refuel.

What does that say on the fuel truck's door?

CLARK?!

As in the former Clark Air Force Base, now Diosdado Macapagal International Airport, Pampanga.

Finally, fifteen minutes after taking off again, we land here.

Now THIS is definitely Manila. Ninoy Aquino International Airport.

Now I'm curious. Who is Diosdado Macapagal, and did he meet an untimely demise on the tarmac like Ninoy did?

And by the way, two liters of fuel... Seriously? Nelia, someone was pulling your leg.

On the Sea to Bohol

Once again, I traveled across the Bohol Strait from Cebu to Bohol. Except for this tarpaulin on the damyo, everything remains the same.

The pier pilings are still precrariously standing.

The paddling panhandlers are still peddling.

Steamships are still belching black smoke.

And the sea still beckons travelers to fare with ease. Despite the fact that it is typhoon season.

Bohol, on the other hand, is in the midst of an "upgrade". The pier is getting an extension.

Maajong pag-abot!