The Child’s Smile

I was on my motorcycle and stopped at an intersection downtown.  The sun was bright and beaming and the blue sky was all above us.  People were going home.  Everyone was going home it seemed.  It was five o’clock.

People were going from left to right and vice versa in the crosswalk in that hurried way you do when you try not to look like you’re running far and fast away from your work and your boss but really that is what you are doing.  There were many men and women and they were all determined to get somewhere; like me I suppose.

Everybody was trying not to look at this one man in the street.  He was crossing like everyone else but that was probably the only thing he had in common with those of us around him.  He was Black and he was afflicted with some kind of medical condition that caused his left arm to lock in a bent position at the elbow.  It made it look like he was pointing upward.  His head was cocked to the side in an odd way that looked a little uncomfortable and almost made him look like he was facing one way but looking another.  Oh yeah, he was in one of those motorized scooters.  You know, the ones that they’ll bring to your house and set up for free if you have the right kind of insurance.  That’s where he and I were the same: he was on his set of wheels and I was on mine and we were both enjoying a fine night to commute home.

I could sense everyone around me looking away but I chose to look at him.  I chose to look him right in the eye.  I wanted him to know that he was as worthy of being noticed as everyone else.  I didn’t want him to see me looking away from him as if he were something to pity.  I looked him in the eyes and he noticed me. 

I could tell he sensed someone looking at him.  He looked around and his scan caught my gaze.  At first he looked away but then, in a split second, his look became firm & stern and he locked on my eyes too.  He was not going to back down and neither was I.  Here we were, both on our wheels, men going home.  One like the other and really no different. 

I wanted him to know we were in this crazy commute together.  I nodded to him like I do to other people on their motorcycles and he understood the gesture right away – we were both men on wheels.  The toughness in his face melted and in a moment I saw the wide, content, eyes-closed, cheeks-dimpled smile that I last saw on the face of a content baby. 

The entire event lasted about seven seconds.  But seeing the joy he had on his face as we were acknowledging each other as men do – as people acknowledge each other who do not care about our differences but rather enjoy our similarities – created a feeling that went with me all the way home.

Notes From a Chicago Police Officer’s Funeral

We parked six blocks away from St. Bede’s and followed the others; walking in our small groups of two’s and three’s.  As we got closer to the Church something odd happened that I think I only noticed because so many people were in uniform:  the small, separate groups all merged slowly forming larger bunches of ten or twelve people.

The Officers wore the dress blue uniforms with formal hat and white gloves. The black mourning band was draped across almost every star.

In the parking lot across the street from St. Bede’s the Officers all gathered and waited for the arrival of Officer Valadez’ body.

At first, I didn’t know what they were doing because from behind it was just a massive wall of blue.

Santos went into the group and we agreed to meet after the service. I walked towards the Church and that’s when I saw the Honor Guard standing in the middle of the street. Perpendicular to them was another line of Officers standing in formation in front of the Church holding the flags from the districts hit hardest by Ofc. Valadez’ death: 7th and 10th.

Standing in front of the Church, I realized that the Officers I left in the parking lot weren’t just standing around — they were standing shoulder to shoulder in a semi-defined formation. They were ominous to see – all wearing dark blue uniforms, white gloves, dark glasses on stern faces.

The choir, in stark contrast, sung beautifully and their music was broadcast over speakers outside the church. The songs helped soothe the heavy, somber feeling that settled in the air above St. Bede’s.

A little girl stood on the corner holding up a poster that thanked the Officers for their work. I overheard a Lieutenant say, “Thank you” to the girl’s father who stood proudly by her side.

+++

I was inside the church when Ofc. Valadez’ body arrived. The music had stopped. Everyone in the congregation turned towards the main entrance and I felt my insides turn grey. The silence was vast and somewhere in that emptiness… the mother of the fallen officer let out a cry that struck everyone in the heart. It was the howl that can only come from a mother standing over her dead child.

+++

Fast forward through a typical Catholic service – after the readings, the gospel, the Superintendant, the Mayor, and the Governor… the partner of the fallen officer shared his thoughts about the death of his friend.

I need to point out that Ofc. Vargas struck me as being an incredibly young man.  Maybe I’m feeling a little old these days but if you look around at the police officers in this city you’ll see quite a few of them who seem very youthful.  Ofc. Valadez was only 27 when he died and apparently he and his partner were constantly being mistaken for each other.

Ofc. Vargas did an amazing job of sharing memories of his slain partner. He had the whole congregation choking back tears… unsuccessfully. He had us chuckling at Ofc. Valadez’ jokes on the job and smiling at some of the once-private thoughts Valadez had about his family members (esp. his sisters).

Ofc. Vargas was incredibly gracious to let us into the private world that’s created between two officers during their tour. He brought all of us closer to the man that is now in the casket.

+++

There’s nothing more solemn than a Church full of Cops – they packed the pews and lined the walls.  Heaven help the next person who threatens one of their own.

+++

Quite a few people asked if we knew Ofc. Valadez and I had to ask Santos if it was strange that I was going to the funeral of someone I didn’t know personally. He reassured me that it wasn’t odd at all.

So why was I going? I wondered that all day and didn’t realize it until evening.

Officers and their family members always know there’s a chance they may not come back from their tours safely. It’s a feeling we’ve gotten used to and it’s a thought that’s always on the back burner… simmering quietly.

It’s a feeling that makes spending time together a little more precious. It makes sharing a joke and a laugh a little sweeter. It makes me think twice before starting a petty argument with my brother and it’s why I’ve gotten great at not saying things I know I’ll regret. Because of this feeling, I won’t hesitate to go with Santos on a trip to the Philippines or Hong Kong or Boston or New York or even Buffalo Joe’s in Evanston.

We both know (we all know) that tomorrow is never guaranteed.

I may not have personally known Ofc. Valadez or his family but I know all to well the hopes & fears the Valadez family had for Alejandro. I know how proud they are of him.

Our Police Officers have chosen to do a very dangerous job and when one of them goes down, the entire CPD community feels the fall.

+++

CPD Ofc. Alejandro “Alex” Valadez, Star #9534… End of Watch June 1, 2009…

Thank you for everything and I hope you rest in Peace.

Skydiving Word List

My friends went skydiving yesterday and I was lucky enough to observe from the co-pilot seat.  I don’t feel like writing about it but want to remembr some things…

• Loading
• Instrument Panel
• Blue Sky & Blue Water
• Milwaukee
• Not loud enough for mic
• Control tower
• Nervous at take off
• Worried at landing
• Smiling the whole time
• There they go jumping out the back door
• Plane is wobbling
• NOSE DIVE!!!
• Earrings
• Polite
• Pilot disappointed I wasn’t scared
• Mic Works
• Let’s do it again

White Knuckle White Sox Winner

So Santos and I went to the White Sox game tonight really not expecting much because they’ve lost something like nine straight games (I’m not exaggerating).  We’re season ticket holders and I’m going to make it to all of our games this year one way or another pretty much regardless of how they do on the field.

Like I was saying, we weren’t expecting much but what we found was:

• a nice dinner in the outside seating area of a restaurant on Taylor street before the game
• a decent ride through the west side medical district, then Pilsen, then Bridgeport
• special police parking for our bikes right behind the stadium
• a feeling that we went from the middle of spring to the middle of summer over night
• a White Sox offense that seems to have awoken from its slumber of late
• a nice pitching gem by Mark Buehrle
• some really nice people around us to share a nice evening of baseball
• an exhilarating ride back up the Dan Ryan expressway then the Kennedy expressway that involved a little more speed than a rational person would deem safe…

Not bad from an evening where we didn’t expect much…

Fight Night Part Two

Pacquiao v. Hatton

There’s nothing like fight night in Las Vegas.  My brother and I went go watch Manny Pacquiao SHUT DOWN Ricky Hatton in just under two complete rounds. 

Last time, we got tickets to the closed circuit broadcast in one of the MGM conference rooms which was good enough and I would’ve been happy to have gone back.  However, this time we got tickets to the arena and I’ve got to say… there’s no going back!!!

The Brit-fans were loud, unified, and I must say rather respectful.  They were singing this song and I thought, “What’s up with the song?”  Some Hatton fan snuck in a drum.  A drum!!!  And four of his buddies had brass instruments.  How does that make it through the metal detectors?!

I actually thought the Limeys had us beat… as fans but no way was their man going to beat Manny in the ring.

When Hatton went down for the second time in the first round it was certainly no surprise and no one remained sitting.  The entire stadium started counting the seconds to end of this fight.  When we heard the ten-second warning at the end of the 2nd I thought, “Well, at least we saw two full rounds.”

Just then, with three seconds left, Manny connected with the spot in Hatton’s jaw that serves basically as a human off switch.  As Santos likes to put it over and over again, Ricky landed perfectly on top of the Rock Star Energy Drink logo in the middle of the ring.

When he went down I looked over to my brother and he let out the same roar that brought me back to the winning homerun of Game 2 of the 2005 World Series in Comiskey as the White Sox’ Scott Podsednik sent one into the right field stands.

Sport is great.

(We can’t wait to go back this winter when Manny takes on Mayweather Jr.)

Manila Do-Nothing Day

I’ve been all jumbled-in-my-head lately.

I’m glad my Brother is having a good time and already making plans for us to come back in February. It looks like we’re going to buy some land in our Dad’s hometown so we can build our own house.  That’ll be exciting.

Today is a nothing day which is to say we’re not leaving the hotel/mall area to give ourselves a break before leaving for Hong Kong tomorrow.  (We already have our to-do list for Hong Kong.)

++++

I’ve had three really nice conversations here that stick out in my mind.

One was with this woman I met that started out to be a misunderstanding and ended up turning into a nice 30 minute conversation about life here and the hopes we all have as people.

Then my Brother and I went out with my cousin Joyce and EVERYONE last night for dinner and we talked about our February 2010 plans.  All of a sudden Feb 2010 seems so far away.

Then last night I was talking to our waitress in the hotel bar and we ended up talking so much that she fell behind on her job tasks and had to disappear.  I told her I’d be back tonight and I think she’s looking  forward to picking up where we left off last night.

We were talking about the tourism industry here in the Islands and she shared here experiences with me.  It was amazing to hear about what happens behind the scenes — politics, plans, etc.

+++

Santos and I are really are enjoying the freedom to go wherever we want and I know our Dad is really impressed with our ability to throw ourselves into the city.

It’s really made a difference to the point where we’re both excited to come back.  I don’t think I imagined that outcome.

+++

Last night was a bit of a test of our freedom.  One of our Tita’s didn’t like the plans we had made and tried everything she could think of to keep us here in the hotel.

There was no way I was going to let her win and our plans were executed flawlessly.  I think part of her wants us to stay naive because she’s kept her own son in the house away from everything… to his detriment….

Well, gotta go for now…

Leftover Details

Well, we’re back in Manila.

I have a headache right now because I unwisely went to the Amoranto Sports Complex to swim laps for over an hour underneath the Summer sun.  The water was warm and because I haven’t gone swimming since… well, yesterday… I thought I push myself a little harder than usual.  Ergo, headache.

I left out a lot of details from our trip up the Libmanan River.

The river trip was my idea because I wanted my brother to experience it for himself.  In 2006, the river trip was my Dad’s idea because he wanted me to experience it for myself.

There was no need to go up the river because we had gone to the Mambayawas Farm just the day before… but by tri-mobile (motorcycle & sidecar).  There was no lancha available and I figured the tri-mobile would be another experience for my brother.

I have to say, from what I’ve seen he’s really enjoyed himself.

I’ll take credit because when we talk about what we’re going to do today or tomorrow or the next day everyone turns to me to come up with a plan which I happily do.  I come up with the  idea and my Dad and relatives help us figure out how we’re going to execute the plan.

Anyway, so we went up the Libmanan River.  Lanchas, 30 foot long motorboats, go up and down river carrying passengers all the time.  We rented one which is to say the captain was to reserve his boat for our group of 13 people (my Brother, Parents, Relatives including my three Little Cousins).  He took one passenger in addition to our group and agreed to wait for us while we looked around Mambayawas for the second time in two days.  Normally, Mambayawas is the turnaround point.

Going up-river we saw people washing their clothes, bathing, fishing, diving for oysters, diving for sand (for concrete mixing), going back to market.

Our Dad told us about the canoe they had long ago and how Surrender Island used to be uninhabited but now has too many houses.  I could see in his eyes the sadness that, by telling us what has changed and what has stayed the same, he was coming to the realization that his quickest steps were behind him and that there is well, you can finish the rest.

This whole trip has been bittersweet for me because now (maybe like other times I don’t remember) it feels like time is really passing by and I’m nearing the end of some chapter.

My Dad is still healthy but he is 70 and I can see in his eyes that his youth is getting away from him in a way he cannot control.  He still wants to get things done.  I think I can almost see in his eyes his wish for the clock to turn its hands back for him — as a birthday present, perhaps.

It makes my heart ache and I wish I can give him some of my youth and strength.  Sometimes I feel like he would get more done with it than I could.  He’s accomplished so much and managed (to my deepest admiration) to stand by his principles without once wavering.

My Dad is the most Ethical, Principled, Hardworking man I’ve ever known and I’m embarrassed sometimes when I think I won’t leave as deep a footprint has his.

Anyway, I wanted to describe details of the River trip but really I think I wanted to say that if I could trade places with my Dad and give him 30 more years of my strength and vigor I would gladly make the exchange.

However, I know that isn’t a deal he would ever accept.

When he looks at me and tries to share his thoughts… behind his short sentences and simple messages is the wish… and I can see the wish… that we could have 70 more years together.

My Dad, and I’m not sure why, has started to say his good-byes… I can feel it.

Price List

I can’t write much… I just wanted to write some prices down here so I can remember them later:

Pan de Sal (one roll) 1P

Pedicab (Fundado to Centro) 5P

Jeepney (Libmanan to Naga) 20P

AirCon Van (Libmanan to Naga) 40P

CWC Swimming Pool per person 150P

1 Liter Nestea 27P

Lancha Libmanan Centro to Mambayawas 20P

Rent Lancha for 3 hours 500P

Rent AirCon Van 3500P per day

Rent Nissan Sentra in Manila from Hotel 2500 (manual trans)

Rent SUV in Manila from Hotel 4000 (manaul trans)

Tri-mobile 7P (can’t remember this one)

+++

We took a lancha up the Libmanan River. There were ten of us at least. We rented the whole boat for a couple of hours. It took us to the farm.

The ride was beautiful.

Now we’re all going to the EcoVillage in Pili. It’s a beautiful, simple recreation complex. I’m gonna go swimming.

Later tonight we’re going to stop at the beach at Pasacao to watch the sunset and play in the Ocean until after dark.

Tomorrow we go back to Manila for a few days.

Then it’s on to Hong Kong… Manila… Chicago.

++++

Quick birthday party note:

Lots of food.  Dad took lots of pictures which seemed unusual to me.

He loved the attention… though he normally is more comfortable under the radar.

++++

I keep waking up here thinking this is going to be the last carefree visit to the Philippines.  That scares me too much.

++++

Not a Bad Way to Spend a 70th Birthday

Today is my Dad’s birthday.

We just got back from the farm. My Dad, my Brother, my Uncle, and my Cousin’s husband Lao.

I’ve been unable to calm my mind because I want to show my brother everything I learned during my last trip here in 2006. I know it’s unfair to pack 3 months of stuff into 15 days so I’m trying to remember and present the highlights. I want this trip to be unlike the other boring, dull ones he’s had in the past. I want him to see that he is as much a part of this place as all of those who had come before him.

I’m riding a tenuous line between pushing it all onto him in the hope he’ll arrive at the same affection I have for this country and letting him come to whatever conclusion he decides on his own.

We just came back from one of our Grandfather’s farms. He has three of them and now that he has passed away the farms are now ours.

If you could see my brother as he walked the beautiful expanse of green field under the blue sky of a typical Philippines summer you would see that the affection I wondered about has certainly taken hold of him.

He marvelled at the number of coconut trees we have and was surprised to see all the banana trees growing on our land. We have jackfruit (lanka) trees that amazed him and mango trees that really made an impression.

He looked at our rice fields and asked about the yield and did the math in his head and wondered, like we all do, if this place can give us more.

I talked about mahogany trees that Dad and I planted in 2006 and told him how they would be ready when we retire.

We met the people working on our land and wondered how this tiny group of people can realize the potential of our farm.

My Brother kept taking pictures of everything he saw. I could tell this wonderful place has mad a home in his heart.

He asked me questions about the land and the life here and I was able to answer many of them (proudly) because I had asked the same questions of our Dad last time.

In about an hour, a friend of Lao’s will be dropping off two tri-mobiles. A tri-mobile is a motorcycle with a sidecar attached that is used as a public form of transportation. I’m going to pay him for use of the tri-mobiles so my brother and I can take our Dad and Uncle to Naga to run errands.

Going to Naga from Libmanan is a beautiful 40 minute ride through the Philippines landscape. It’s all green and lush and we get to peek into people’s lives as we ride by.

I told Santos that the best idea he ever had was making me take those motorcycle lessons last year. I never thought we’d use that skill to take our Dad and our Uncle from their hometown to Naga. My Dad smiled at the thought of that plan… and my Dad’s smiles these days are the most precious thing I have.

Just think, it’s not even noon yet and we still have a birthday party to throw tonight; and pool time this afternoon…

We go back to Manila in a couple of days. But in the meantime I asked my Dad if we can hire a lancha (long motorboat) for a couple of hours so we can take my Brother up the Libmanan River to really immerse him in the beauty of our country. We’ll be doing that tomorrow at sunrise.

It’s been slowly coming but the trip so far is unfolding in ways that I had hoped… and next week we’ll be looking at Victoria Harbor from our hotel room on Hong Kong island.

I only wish, as I always do, that I could find more time to spend with our Dad and Mom.

The Unnerving Sign of the Cross

I was walking through Naga about an hour ago. My parents were leading the way and we were about to pass the front of a church when I noticed that my Dad took off his hat.

Coincidence? No.

My Mom touched her forehead, then her heart, then one shoulder, and then the other.

Just as we passed the far gate my Dad replaced is hat.

The Presence of the Spirit (I’m not religious, per se) is so pervasive it’s a bit unsettling. Underneath everything everyone has to do here is a fear and reverence for an Almighty.

Before a driver begins the meat of his/her journey, you’ll see people make the sign of the cross. I always think they know something I don’ t know.