The Philippines
Although the Philippines is a country in Southeast Asia, its residents are about 90% Christian and 80% Roman Catholic due to Spanish colonization, so Christmas is a BIG deal. In fact, they celebrate the longest Christmas holiday in the world, spanning from September until well after New Years. 

Aside from ubiquitous light shows, malls filled to the brim, and decorated trees, there are many great Christmas traditions in the Philippines.

Many Filipinos practice the tradition of Simbang Gabi, where they attend church service at 4 am for the nine days leading up to Christmas Eve.

On Noche Buena - Christmas Eve - the whole extended family gets together for a feast of lechon, or a roasted pig.
 
Singing is always popular in the Philippines, but even more so around Christmas, when children go door to door singing carols.

There’s even a Giant Lantern Festival  (Ligligan Parul Sampernandu) in the country, held the Saturday before Christmas in the city of San Fernando – the “Christmas Capital of the Philippines.” Local residents, visiting Filipinos, and even foreign travelers gather to witness hundreds of paper lanterns lit and send aloft by candles, or even electric-colored bulbs these days.

But I have my own new Christmas tradition in the Philippines, as I dress up like Santa Claus and visit sick kids with cancer as well as give out food to street kids. It’s damn hot in that suit! ​

Venezuela
The South American country of Venezuela may be in a state of emergency right now, but they still have some serious fun for Christmas. In fact, residents of Caracas, the capital, lace up their roller blades and skate to church for Christmas Eve mass. No one really knows how this started or why, but the rollerblading Christmas celebrators have become so popular that roads are even shut down so they can skate to church safely.

​Iceland
For 13 nights leading up to Christmas, the children of Iceland leave their best shoes by the window, hoping that the Yule Lads visit them while they’re sleeping. The boys and girls that have been good receive gifts in their shoes, while the bad ones get rotting potatoes.

South Africa
Since it's sits far in the southern hemisphere, Christmas comes in the middle of their summer, so people enjoy the outdoors with camping, swimming, gathering in parks and for festivals, and other outdoor activities. But they also have many remnants of UK Christmas traditions, like dressing trees, singing carols, and gift giving, called fir. Boxing Day - the day after Christmas - is just as big!

***


Have a Merry Christmas, Happy Hanukkah, Kwanzaa, or just a great holiday! I'll see you in the New Year!

-Norm :-) 

This week, I had the opportunity to be a guest disc jockey on Dumaguete’s own 93.7 Energy FM radio station, filling the how usually reserved for Jeff the Solar Guy’s show.
 
Jeff pre-qualified me tediously for the job by checking to see if: 1) I knew what a radio was; 2) Could speak in complete sentences; and 3) Had a pulse. Assured that two out of three wasn’t bad, I was offered the position.
 
The experience was a blast, and thanks to a few entertaining guests and a solid producer, at least my show didn’t embarrass the station.  But I must admit that I had butterflies of anticipation leading up to my 4 PM On-Air time since it’s been a long time since I got behind the mic.
 
My timing was a half click too fast and my transitions were rusty, but I still remembered the three golden rules of radio: 1) Always read the copy advertising, 2) Repeat the station’s call letters and guest names every ten minutes, 2) and don’t swear like a drunken sailor. 

​But it wasn’t my first foray into being a radio DJ…
 
A million years ago (OK, 1992-3) I was a Disc Jockey for my college radio station at the University of Connecticut. 91.7 FM went by the call letters WHUS, with the slogan “Radio for the people.” The only problem was that there weren’t any people listening – at least to my show.
 
As a newbie, I was awarded he worst possible time for a radio show: 2 AM to 5:30 AM on Thursday mornings. My first class, Weightlifting 101, was at 8 AM so it was a challenge just to show up, yet alone bench press with that lack of sleep (and lack of muscle).
 
Manning a professional radio station by myself was also a big responsibility. I had to read public service announcements (PSAs) every 15 minutes, report the weather once an hour, and announce the call letters frequently so the people would know which station they weren’t listening to.
 
There were about 1,000 buttons, dials, and levers in the sizable radio booth, at least nine of which I mastered after six months of practice. Also, I was informed very seriously that if I cursed while I was live on air, the FCC could fine the station $10,000 and could put them out of business. 

​But I had plenty of leeway to make mistakes since the station was empty at that hour. That was fine by me, since I didn’t particularly care for the kind of person who would be a college radio DJ (present company excluded).
 
The other members of WHUS chain smoked, reserved sour lemon looks of scorn for anyone not deemed as “alternative” as them, and obviously spent hours perfecting their disheveled outfits until they’d give off an “I don’t care about my outfit” vibe.
 
But I made the best of it, and I was rarely alone. My roommate, Garnett, always came along with me to listen to the newest hip hop records, and, circa 2:30 AM, Jake the Pizza Delivery Guy would always roll in, red-eyed and carrying a few free pizzas he’d managed to commandeer.
 
Together, to pass the three hours of silent blackness, we turned the radio show it into a big party. 

​“Stormin Norman in the Morning” was born, but this was no cult of personality, as the show was all about the music. At that time, there was no YouTube or iTunes, and people couldn't even listen to music online (Napster came in 1999). So to hear a new song, you had to tune in on the radio, watch MTV, or go to a record store and buy it.
 
But every record label sent early releases to the station to promote their hot new artists and albums, so we got Nirvana, Dr. Dre and Snoop, Red Hot Chili Peppers, Counting Crows, Radiohead, the Wu-Tang Clan, A Tribe Called Quest, and others all six months before the general public. It was heaven for this music lover.
 
We turned the volume way up. We danced. We tried to rap. We laughed. I ranted and raved on-air. We used the station’s phone to make long distance calls. We stole duplicate CDs. We took turns falling asleep on the couch. And we recorded endless mixes as if this music jackpot might suddenly disappear.
 
I gave shout-outs to friends all the time just so they would listen, spread maliciously irresponsible rumors about our teachers, and invited anyone and everyone in as a guest so we could discuss their sexual exploits.
 
By the time the middle aged and well mustached soft jazz DJ showed up at 5 AM to prepare for his morning show, the studio was littered with empty beer bottles, dank clouds of smoke, stacks of vinyl and CD cases, the remains of Hawaiian pizzas, and a snoring Garnett.

​The rest of the college campus was still sleeping, too. My radio show was so desolate that when a blizzard struck one winter night, I didn’t bother showing up. No one seemed to notice that the station was broadcasting dead air until a confused morning jazz guy brought it back to life.
 
It snowed a lot of Thursday mornings that winter, and thus my inglorious DJing career at WHUS soon came to an end.
 
I ended up failing Weightlifting 101, a new low-point in my already low academic career. But Garnett and I were sought out for our new mixes and soon recruited to DJ parties. Jake the Pizza Guy would even stop by.
 
Twenty-five years later (wow!), getting into the booth at ENERGY FM rekindled those memories. Pulling the mic close and shouting out those call letter maybe even created an itch that needs scratching.
 
Perhaps I'll volunteer to guest DJ in Dumaguete again? Or, even better, I can record my own little podcast about traveling, culture, and general musings about this thing we call life.
 
But this time, I think I'll call it “Stormin Norman in the mid-afternoon," and strong coffee will replace all of those cold beers. I can even make a call to see if Garnett and Jake the Pizza Guy are available.

-Norm  :-)

P.S. A version of this story first appeared in the Dumaguete MetroPost newspaper.

​The average lifespan in America is now around 75.5 years old, though that’s expected to rise in the future thanks to modern medicine and technology. But that’s still nowhere near the life expectancy of people in some cultures around the world.
 
Called “Blue Zones” for the astounding average lifespans, they are defined as areas where people have three times the chance of reaching 100 than we do in the U.S. 

In fact, the island inhabitants of Okinawa in Japan, the Titicaca Indians in mountainous Peru, the Abkhasia in the Caucasus Mountains in Southern Russia and other areas, super centenarians are common (those who live to 110 years or more) and there are plenty of documented cases of people living to 120 or even 140!

While there is no secret fountain of youth for these cultures, scientists and doctors have studied them intensively and identified several health, diet, and lifestyle factors that they all have in common. The current consensus among among medical science is that only 25% of your longevity is determined by your genetics, with the other 75% a factor of how and where you live. 

In this blog, we’ll introduce you to the people and cultures in the earth’s Blue Zones, and then summarize those practices that keep them happy and healthy well past 100 years old!

The islanders of Okinawa in Japan
This small south Pacific island in Japan holds the honor for the longest disability-free life expectancy in the world. Known as the “land of immortals,” Okinawa has an incredible 900 people over 100 years old, the highest number of centenarians in the world despite having only 1.385 million people. How is that possible? Researchers noticed that the people there eat most of their food lightly steamed, eat more tofu and soya than anyone in the world, drink green tea, and eat a wide variety of fruits and vegetables, especially the dark green leafy kind. Unlike some of their vegetarian counterparts in other Blue Zones, the people of Okinawa do eat meat, though interestingly they usually only eat fish and it is often raw. They are always physically active even in advanced years, elders are greatly respected, and their “island attitude” results in a largely stress-free and communal life.

Southern Italian and other Mediterranean cultures
The island of Sardinia in southern Italy in the Mediterranean Sea holds the highest rate of male centenarians in the world. It’s estimated that the benefits of the Mediterranean Diet, also common in Greece, Cyprus, Turkey, parts of Spain, etc. help account for such long and healthy lives. That includes daily consumption of olive oil, called liquid gold for its health benefits, along with plenty of fruits, vegetables, legumes, and low consumption of meat and dairy. Don’t forget the glass of wine with every meal, a great source of flavonoids. Elderly people in this region also get plenty of exercise, sunshine, fresh air, and stay active in their homes, families, and communities. 

The Abkhasia of Southern Russia
This unforgiving environment in the Caucasus Mountains, located between Europe and Asia, was once referred to as the “longevity capital of the world.” In fact, the longest-living man in the world, Shirali Muslimov, who lived to the ripe old age of 168, was from Azerbaijan in that region. The people there mostly eat freshly picked nuts and whole grains, and locally grown fruits and vegetables. They only rarely eat meat, and with the fat removed, but drink a special fermented beverage for vitality called matzoni, made from goat’s milk. They are constantly walking up and doing hilly paths and mountainous terrain, so every person is trim and fit no matter what age. Just like in Okinawa, elders are revered and respected in their society.

The Hunza of North Pakistan
High up in the inhospitable mountains in Pakistan, the Hunza tribes have lived for many centuries, isolated from the rest of the world but enjoying very long, healthy lives. Due to the mountainous conditions the Hunza have to walk almost everywhere, and farming the soil is a full time job that keeps them physically fit. They subsist on a diet of fresh fruit most of the year and keep dried fruit to get them through the winters. In summer months, their diet also includes beans, corn, roots, tubers, squash, and sprouts, all extremely healthy. Most of the time their food is eaten raw because even cooking fires can be hard to come by. Eating meat or dairy is an extreme rarity, as the mountains don’t even allow for grazing of animals. Incredibly, they are virtually disease free during their lives, despite the harsh terrain and their hard lives.

The Vicalbamba Indians of the Andes Mountains
In high-altitude valley in the peaks of southern Ecuador, the Vicalbamba people commonly live to 110 years old or more. Of course they stay active and physically fit, walking and hiking and cultivating the land, but like many of these people with extraordinary long lives, they also enjoy a strong sense of community, a stress-free life full of laughter and the warmth of extended family, and a sense of purpose long into live, as elders are looked up to. The Vicalbamba also share an almost-vegan diet, eating some cooked whole grains and lots of vegetables, nuts, and fruits all harvested with their own hands from their lands, with very little animal products.

Other Blue Zones around the world:
On the Greek island of Ikaria, there are an alarming number of centenarians and chronic disease and dementia are almost non-existant. Costa Rica spends only 15% of what America does on healthcare, yet their residents have a far longer life expectancy than almost all developing nations - and even many wealthier societies.  The Nicoya Peninsula in Costa Rica is one such Blue Zone, renowned for having elders live well into their 90s and 100s. 

There are even Blue Zones evolving within the United States which proves that it's not just environment or hereditary factors that determine longevity. In Loma Linda, California, emerging data reveals that residents live at least ten years longer than the national average due to their lifestyle, health, and diets. Alaska contains another Blue Zone. 

So what do they all have in common?
So if you want to live to 140 years old, too, should you just move to one of these places? I don’t think it quite works like that, but the good news is that you can replicate many conditions of their lifestyle to improve your health, even back in the United States.

Researchers who collected extensive data from these regions came up with several striking similarities between cultures in the Blue Zones:​

• Diets that consist mostly of vegan, and/or vegetarian and organic food.
• They typically ate only 1,700-1,800 calories a day at most, even with physical activity filling their daily lives.
•  That caloric intake was between 69-73% carbohydrates, 15-18% from fat and 10-13% from protein.
• Food was grown and harvested local, without any chemicals, pesticides, fertilizers, additives, GMOs, coloring or preservatives.
• A good portion of food was eaten raw.
• Vegetables, legumes, and fruits made up a large portion of their diet.
• They ate little or no sweets, no processed sugars, and no salt except possibly sea salts.
• They ate little or no animal products (0-10% of their diet, depending on the culture), and if they did it was lean and low fat.
• The fats they did eat were extremely healthy, coming from fish, eggs, olive oil, etc.
• They stayed lean and physically fit by walking, working, and staying active. No one had an exercise routine per se, but the activity in their lives dictated that there was zero obesity in their cultures.
• People in all of their cultures had low levels of stress in their daily lives.
• They used natural remedies and plants and herbs to heal ailments, not synthetic or chemical pharmaceuticals.
• They all laughed, interacted with family and friends, and enjoyed a sense of community with all of those around them.
• They believe in something greater than themselves; a purpose to their daily lives whether that be religion, spirituality, or just community.
• As they grew older they still had a sense of purpose, as elderly people are all greatly revered and respected in their cultures.

-Norm :-)

I originally wrote a version of this blog for Dr. Lance Casazza at Casazza Chiropractic in Sacramento, California.

​His legacy is still gold-plated in the Kingdom of Siam, where condoms are still sometimes referred to as “mechais,” a tribute to the first name of “Mr. Condom.” More importantly, even as HIV and AIDs spread rampantly in many developing countries around the world in the 1980s and 90s, reaching epidemic proportions in many African and other Southeast Asian countries, Thailand reacted quickly thanks to the tireless work and social progress Viravaidya. Not only were HIV and AIDS levels normalized, but the average number of children in Thai families decreased from 3.7 to 1.5 during his tenure – a testament to education, family planning, and the societal acceptance of condoms.
 
In 2007, Mechai Viravaidya was honored with the Bill & Melinda Gates Foundation's Gates Award – including a $1,000,000 check - in recognition of his life’s work of family planning, HIV and AIDS awareness, women’s health, and advocacy for the poor.
 
That explained why there were photos of Viravaidya posing alongside Bill Gates, Bill Clinton, Warren Buffet, and other philanthropists, celebrities, and heads of states adorning the restaurant walls; not at all what you’d expect from a restaurant with the slogan, “Our food is guaranteed not to cause pregnancy.”
 

A couple of weeks ago, I wrote a blog with the FUNNIEST sh*t you'll see in Southeast Asia and shared it with you. The response was so great that I decided to follow up with a new two-part blog with the CRAZIEST sh*t you'll see in Southeast Asia!

From Cambodia to Laos, Vietnam to Myanmar, and Thailand to the Philippines, there's definitely NO place on earth that will make you sure in amazement and scratch your head like in Southeast Asia, where the wild, hilarious, and downright bizarre are a daily occurrence. 

So enjoy, and look for part 2 of this blog coming soon! 

If you want to read more about life in Southeast Asia, read my new book, The Queens of Dragon Town.

-Norm   :-)

​1.         We know the iconic man as Dr. Martin Luther King Jr., but that was not his given birth name. In fact, MLK Jr. was Michael on his birth certificate, named after his father (hence the Jr.). But after a trip to Germany in 1931, Michael Sr. decided to change his name to Martin Luther to pay reverence to the historic German theologian of the same name. His son, Michael Jr., was only two years old at the time, so the elder King decided to change his son’s name, too. Thus, Michael King Jr. became Martin Luther King Jr., as we know him.
 
2.         It was a tragic day for America and the human race when Dr. King Jr. was assassinated on April 4, 1968, but he wasn’t the only one who died at the Lorraine Motel in Memphis that day. In fact, Lorraine Bailey, a hotel worker and wife of the owner, passed away from a heart attack after hearing of King’s shooting. Lorraine was working the hotel phone switchboard at the time and suffered an incapacitating heart attack after seeing King shot, later dying from the coronary. Since there was no one else working the switchboard, that caused a long delay in calling an ambulance and getting King medical treatment, though it’s unclear if that would have helped him survive the shooting.
 
3.         The fateful day in 1968 wasn’t King’s only brush with an assassination. A decade earlier on September 20, 1958, MLK was signing copies of his new book, Stride Toward Freedom, at a department store in Harlem when a female patron named Izola Ware Curr approached him and asked if he was indeed Martin Luther King Jr. King answered yes, at which she replied, “I’ve been looking for you for five years.”  She then took out a seven-inch letter opener blade and plunged it into his chest. MLK was rushed to the hospital but the doctors couldn’t operate for three hours, as the tip of the blade was pressed against his aortic valve. When the blade was finally removed safely, the doctor told King that if he had even sneezed during those three hours, he could have ruptured the aorta and died instantly.
 
While recovering in the hospital, King reaffirmed his philosophies of non-violence and stated that he bore no ill will or anger towards the mentally ill Curr.
 
4.         A young King was not only a born leader, but prolifically intelligent. In fact, King bypassed the 9th and 11th grades altogether, entering Moorehouse College at the tender age of 15 in 1944. He graduated with distinction by 19 with a degree in sociology, the first of many degrees and accomplishments in higher learning.
 
King attended graduate school at Boston University and earned his Ph.D. in systematic theology. He also attended divinity school and got a doctorate from Pennsylvania’s Crozer Theological Seminary at the age of 25.
 
5.         Over his lifetime, Dr. King Jr. was awarded the Congressional Gold Medal and a Medal of Freedom. But few know that he also won a Grammy Award in 1971 – out of context for a civil rights activist – for Best Spoken Word Album for “Why I Oppose the War in Vietnam”.
 
6.         King won the Nobel Peace Prize in 1964 at the age of 35, the youngest person to ever win the prominent award at the time. When the brave and inspirational Malala Yousafzai won the Peace Prize in 2014 at the age of 17, she became the youngest ever, a torch MLK would have been honored to pass down to her.
 
Winning the Nobel Peace Prize came with a sizable $54,123 payout (about $400,000 today). But instead of pocketing the money, King donated every penny to the Civil Rights Movement. During his acceptance speech, King During his acceptance speech, said, “I believe that unarmed truth and unconditional love will have the final word in reality. This is why right temporarily defeated is stronger than evil triumphant.”
 
7.         Martin Luther King Jr. Day is now a national holiday observed on the third Monday in January. This year, it will fall on Monday, January 18, though his actual birthday was January 15, 1929.
 
8.         Only two other people in American history have a national holiday commemorating their birthday, George Washington and Christopher Columbus. Therefore, Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. the only native born American to have a national holiday honoring his birthday.
 
9.         Congressman John Conyers, a Democrat from Michigan, introduced legislation for a holiday commemorating the deceased Dr. King only four days after his assassination. But getting Dr. King’s birthday approved as a national holiday was not an easy road by any means. The bill was repeatedly stalled, and Coretta Scott King, Stevie Wonder, Rep. Shirley Chisholm  (D-NY), President Jimmy Carter and other prominent politicians and Americans had to fight for it over the years, finally presenting 6,000,000 signatures to congress in 1982.

10.       Finally, in 1983, Congress passed the bill and President Ronald Reagan officially signed legislation creating Martin Luther King, Jr. Day as a national holiday, despite opposition from Senators Jesse Helms (R-NC) and Gordon Humphrey (R-NH), who attempted to block it.
 
11.       But some states still resisted observing the holiday. As of January 16, 1989, only 44 states observed Dr. King’s birthday as a holiday. In 1992, Arizona finally approved the holiday only after a tourist boycott. In 1999, New Hampshire changed their Civil Rights Day to Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. Day, and finally, Utah acquiesced in 2000, the last of all 50 states to observe.
 
12.       There are now more than 700 streets named after Martin Luther King Jr. all over the country, as well as plenty of schools, libraries, and other civic buildings.
 
13.       Over his career as a civil rights champion, Dr. King was arrested 29 times on record. He was often arrested and incarcerated on trumped up charges during his campaign of civil disobedience, a tactic used by local law enforcement and segregationists to try and scare Dr. King and dissuade the movement (it didn’t work.)
 
14.       Few people realize that on the fateful day Dr. King was shot on that motel balcony in Memphis, he was actually standing out there to smoke a cigarette. In fact, MLK was a regular smoker, though he always hid his habit and never appeared in a photo with a cigarette because he didn't want to set a bad example for his kids or to advocate or popularize smoking in any way. Before Dr. King was loaded into the ambulance after being shot that day, one his associates, Reverend Kyles, tossed away the fallen civil rights leader’s cigarette butts and removed the pack of smokes from his shirt pocket.
 
15.       King’s impact on the black community went far beyond the Civil Rights movement that caught the national attention. When Nichelle Nichols, a young black actress on a new sci-fi television program, wanted to quit after the first season amid harassment and threats, Dr. King, a fan of the show, encouraged and persuaded her to stick it out. She did, and became a pioneer in the industry, the first black television character portrayed as intelligent and capable, respected as an equal with her white actors and peers. (Up until then, black actors usually played maids, servants, or other diminished and stereotypical roles.)
 
The show went on to be a smash hit and Nichols’ character portrayal served as a positive role model for many black kids who went on to achieve great success, such as actress/comedian Whoopi Goldberg and astronaut Ronald McNair, the second black person in space. Nichols even had the first interracial kiss ever shown on national television in America.
 
By the way, her character was named “Uhura” and the show, Star Trek.

-Norm   :-)

***

A few years back, I was sitting in a casino bar in Manila, watching the Manny Pacquiao fight. Sitting next to me was a big brother from the U.S., so we got to talking. It turns out he just retired from the Navy, where he had been working at the American embassy in Manila for years.
 
As Pacquiao succumbed to Mayweather and our beers disappeared, the Navy man told me an endearing story about a Filipino you’ve certainly heard of.
 
One day, he was working his regular security detail there at the visa office in the embassy.
 
A short, scrappy, and obviously broke Filipino with shoulder-length hair walked into the office and got in the line to apply for a U.S. visa. As we all know, it’s almost impossible to get a visa to the states unless you have a lot of money or a business there sponsoring you, so the man was out of place and doomed for the same fate as Pacquiao that day – the wrong end of a decision.
 
In fact, life had not been kind to him up until then. His mother died when he was a young boy, leaving his father and family with so many debts that he had to send the children away to live with various relatives. The boy soon quit school and went off on his own so he wouldn't be a burden on anyone. In the coming years, he was often homeless, sleeping on park benches and in front of friend's houses. He did odd jobs just to eat once every couple days, and even singing on the street to try and earn a few Pesos, or at the Shakey’s Pizza on Taft Street in Manila when he was 15.
 
When the scrappy Filipino got to the front of the line, the obviously skeptical lady working asked him why he wanted a visa. He told her that a band in America was looking for a new lead singer and was flying him out to San Francisco for an audition. The band’s guitarist had stumbled upon a video of him on YouTube covering one of their songs.
 
In fact, he often sang their songs with his local small-time bar band in the Philippines. He’d been part of many bands over the years that allowed him to earn enough to eat if nothing else, like Ijos, and later, the better-known Zoo Band.
 
There at the embassy, he told the lady in the visa office that the U.S. group was impressed when they’d heard him and seen him on YouTube that they’d sent him an email, and then an invitation to come to America and try out. He produced a tattered print out of an email that supposedly backed up his story.
 
It sounded so far-fetched that the lady scoffed and started reaching for the ‘Rejected' stamp to send him packing, but mockingly asked him that if he was such a good singer, why didn’t he sing one of the band’s songs right then and there? Why didn’t he sing one of her favorites, “Wheel in the Sky?”
 
So the scrappy man put down his things, stepped back, cleared his throat, and belted out:
 
“Winter is here again oh Lord,
Haven't been home in a year or more”
 
Heads turned.
 
“I hope she holds on a little longer
Sent a letter on a long summer day
Made of silver, not of clay
I've been runnin' down this dusty road,”
 
Every single person in the office stopped and listened to the man. You could have heard a pin drop, according to my Navy friend who was working there.
 
“Oh the wheel in the sky keeps on turnin'
I don't know where I'll be tomorrow
Wheel in the sky keeps on turnin'”
 
When he finished his dazzling rendition, everyone there cheered and applauded. The lady working was stunned, too. She immediately grabbed the ‘Approved' stamp and emphatically OK'd his travel visa with no more questions asked.
 
The scrappy singer walked out of the office, past the big Navy officer on duty, smiling. He later got on that plane to San Francisco, met a guy named Neal Schon there, auditioned, and got the job. He was the new lead singer of this iconic American band that was replacing their cherubic-voiced former front man, Steve Perry.
 
Against all odds, Arnel Pineda, became the lead singer of Journey, a band that’s sold 80 million records worldwide and is considered one of the best of all time. They even made a movie about Pineda’s star-struck good fortune, called “Don't Stop Believin’.”
​
-Norm  :-) 

"Hi Norm. I saw your photos and read your blog about helping the children in Cambodia. I know we've never met, but I'd like to send you some money to give to them, too."

You'd be amazed how often I get Facebook messages or emails along those lines. Hell, I'm still amazed every time someone reaches out to me and wants to give. I mean, since my focus the last couple of years has been on trying to make this world just a tiny bit better through my writing, I've received so much support from my friends it's crazy.

I guess "crazy" is a good word for it, for what else could you call sending your hard-earned dollars all the way across the world to come to the aid of people you've never met in countries you'll never set foot in? And many of you have never even met me, the instigator of this whole experience. Sure, I've broken bread (and drank beer) with many of you, but some are friends of friends, have read my books or blogs, or we don't even remember how we first connected, but we've never had the pleasure to say hi face-to-face. For all you know, I could be squandering your money by dining on escargot with champagne every night, staying at resorts that have 1,000,000 thread-count sheets, and purchasing luxurious hair care products...ok, the hair care product part is off the table, but you know what I mean.

Either way, you're trusting ME with your money because you care so much about perfect strangers in need. You have empathy for those you can't see or touch, and that's a rare and beautiful thing. Believe me, I treasure that trust and try to live up to it every day. 

Last week, I posted some photos of a poor hospital I visited here in Phnom Penh, the capital city of Cambodia, where I went with my friend-in-charity Cowboy Bart to help a young woman who was the victim of an acid attack, and others. Tragically, she passed away in the ICU the very next day, but the photos and blog stirred a handful of you to reach out and PayPal some donations over for me to distribute to others in need.

So back at it, Cowboy Bart and I rode a tuk tuk out to the Soviet Friendship Hospital in Phnom Penh on a scorching Friday afternoon. I was armed with a pocket full of $10 and $20 bills to give out to people I found in need, with the help of Siman - our Cambodian tuk tuk driver - acting as translator. 

In desperately poor Cambodia, there is no free healthcare or any sort of governmental social safety net. Hospitals are archaic, ridiculously understaffed, and they lack even many of the basic resources, medicines, and technology even the most humble hospitals in the United States enjoy. I'm sure you can guess who built the Soviet Friendship Hospital, a monstrous boxy compound with open-air buildings around an overgrown grassy area. When someone gets sick and needs to go to the hospital, usually on a very long journey from far-off provinces on the public bus, their family needs to bring them there. Of course they can't afford a hotel while they wait out the treatment of their loved one, so the whole family moves into the hospital with the patient. 

Some of them sleep right outdoors in the bush, hoping for the shade of a palm tree. They cook their food over wood fires and hang their laundry their to dry. Many others share the hospital bed with their loved one, sleep on the floor on bamboo matts or on the bare floor near them, or camp out in the hallways and stairwells, for days, weeks, or even months. If they're lucky, they'll have enough food, though most drink dirty water out of the hose bib and live off of rice and slices of mango. A big 30 lbs. bacg of rice, which costs about $20, can keep a couple people alive for a month if need be. 

But they lit up when we walked in, eyes peeled and big smiles for the unheard of occurrence of a Barang (foreigner) coming into the hospital unless they worked for a nonprofit or were part of a medical mission. Bart and Siman visited with the toddler with eye cancer and talked to his mother. Bart remarked that the boy looked much better and the tumor had shrunk significantly. They gave them some money to help pay for food and the treatments they couldn't afford at the hospital. 

While they chatted, I walked around the room, saying hello and visiting with the other sick children in the room. Of course I couldn't communicate with them other than bowing and saying "sus-day" - hello in the Khmer (Cambodian) language - or "sok-sa-bay" - wishing them good health. But it's amazing how much you can say just with your eyes and smile and a well-timed thumbs-up.

As I met the other patients and their families in the big white room, I called Siman over to translate at times. No one was alone - everyone had family with them. I noticed that they didn't see it as a burden to help their sick loved ones. A daughters massaged her grandmother's back to ease her pain. Mothers fanned the flies away from their sleeping children. An elderly Khmer woman, nearly skeletal in her only outfit of pajamas, mustered unimaginable strength to tend to her dying husband of all these years.

Their custom is to take a photo of someone handing them the gift, so they started to sit up their sick and sleeping loved ones. But I told them to just let them be - it wasn't necessary for me to be in the photos. Let the children and sick and elderly, who could barely open their eyes to see us, sleep in peace.

And they are appreciative. The looks of gratitude on their faces will be with me forever. It wasn't just the money, though I know that completely changed their outlook. But there was another commodity, just as important, that were were sharing that day: hope. They knew someone cared about them. Incredibly wealthy and privileged strangers from a far-off heavenly country took the time to come say hello and help them. I've learned that to acknowledge someone as a human being, with respect and equality in your heart, is the biggest gift you can give. 

Stomach problems, children with cancerous tumors, accident victims, and so many more that were key diagnosed, who waited patiently sleeping in the halls and floors of the hospital waiting for a glimmer of hope. Folding leather stretchers - discarded donations from war times, and tolling medical trays stood sentry among the silent people, a few syringes, vials, and empty pill boxes the scattered evidence that there was little that could be done. 

There were many families and sick people who couldn't get a bed, a room, or even inside the cool hallways of the hospital to stay. They camped outside on the patio, the fiery afternoon sun beating down on them. A ingenious teen girl with a bright smile hung a bedsheets from an IV stand to shield her sister, who had been in a bad motorcycle accident in the province, from the heat. 

On our way out, we wandered through many wards of the hospital: those dedicated to those suffering from malnutrition, diarrhea, the ICU, and finally, a pleasant surprise - the neonatal unit. It was shocking that we could just walk in and there were not even glass barriers or germ-free sanitized environments to protect the premature babies. But their mothers stood watch over them,  loving for their newborns with visions of angelic perfection that only mothers can see. Each mother called us over with a big smile so she could proudly show off her baby.

But I reminded myself that these people had problems before I arrived and would have problems long after I left. And there were billions more I never could reach, even if I worked tirelessly the rest of my life. But these people weren't thinking of it like that. They weren't expecting anyone to solve their problems. The money I had given them - your donations - had made a huge difference for them today. The hungry would eat. They could pay for medicine. A doctor's visit. A needed bus ticket. Get a bed instead of the floor. Or buy a small fan.

It wasn't fixed; it wasn't right; it still didn't make sense; but it was better. Better. That's a good way of thinking of it. You, my friends, had made things better for these people, and that's a hell of a good thing. And if they could speak to you they would say, "Thank you." And you'd feel it even more than you heard it. Trust me on that. 

- Norm   :-)