Costa Rica Travel Surf Expat blog for Norm Schriever

Your September 2018 Postcard from Norm: Breathtaking Batanes

9/16/2018

I’d often heard about it, but no one I knew had actually been there. It was spoken of like some secret mystical place, even though it’s still part of the Philippines.

Batanes.

The furthest north of all the Philippines islands, when you stand on the coast of Batanes, every one of the archipelago’s 7,500 islands are at your back!

It’s also so isolated, mercilessly sitting in the middle of the China Sea where it meets the endless Pacific,that it’s closer to Taiwan than the mainland of its own country.

The rare photos were nothing short of spectacular, too, revealing rolling green hills that were so bright they were almost neon, and stern blue seas that were less playful than the clear turquoise waters you see in most of the country’s shores, and iconic landmarks like a volcano, a lone lighthouse standing sentry on its shore, and the ruins of a cobblestoned church.

Batanes looks like you took the Scottish coast, mixed it with Nova Scotia, and sprinkled in some Lake Tahoe in Northern California – all in the tropical Philippines.

So, I was ecstatic when I found a special on flights there this early September, as plane tickets to get to Batanes’ lone airport are usually ridiculously expensive. (It escaped my attention that I was flying there in the middle of the typhoon season, and that’s why tickets were so cheap!)

Flying on a twin prop Bombardier, the aircraft rumbling and shaking as it rambled through the cloud fields as big as small cities on our way true north, I felt like my progress was being tracked on an old map like in an Indiana Jones film.

But putting this bird on the ground would prove no easy task, as the pilot had to pass the island, pull a sharp 180 and swoop down and then, drop in quickly once he cleared the dormant green volcano and touch down on a short runway, not unlike landing on an aircraft carrier. But even with the jarring, slam-the-brakes 2G landing, I had to let out a laugh. I was finally in Batanes.

It was brilliant from the moment I descended the stairs from the trusty old Bombardier, with blooming red flowers and the volcanos stern green peek greeting us.

I had arranged a stay at the Batanes Seaside Resort – a place I took a gander on based on the photos on the booking site, and a smiling local woman was waiting for me with a single name written on her sign: Sir Norm Schriever.

She welcomed me, and we walked outside, where we got in a van and drove the approximately five blocks and two minutes to the hotel. As the driver helped me with my bag, the woman got out quickly and ran inside.

When I walked into the lobby, she was slipping behind the front desk just in time to say “Welcome to the Batanes Seaside Resort.”
She was the hotel’s only employee at the time!

I was tired from a super early wakeup call and traveling, so all I wanted to do was take a siesta. But the weather was so nice I thought it would be a waste not to take advantage of the afternoon, so I asked them to book a trike (a motorcycle taxi with a sidecar) tour of the north part of the island.

It's a good thing that I did because the rest of my stay in Batanes it was rainy and storming!

That first afternoon, the underpowered trike chugged up the hills and along the weaving coastline, stopping at several scenic vantage points (I won’t try to describe them – the photos will say it all!)

Some of the highlights included the Japanese or Dipnaysupuan Tunnels.

When WWII first broke out in the Asian theater, Japan quickly invaded Batanes to take advantage of its strategic location. The local villagers and fisherman offered no resistance, and the Japanese troops forced men, women, and children to dig a series of tunnels into a hillside overlooking the ocean and countryside. The tunnels were meant to serve as a lookout for invading troops by air or by sea, and also as a bunker for the Emperor's forces to hide out if necessary. There were five exits and entrances in the hill, and several interior chambers including a stone stairway down to a natural water reservoir.

We also visited Cafe du Tukon, which sat nestled in one of the prettiest landscapes I've ever seen, reminiscent of the Italian countryside. But the café and its impeccably manicured gardens and meandering paths are not just for show, as they highlight the cultural heritage of the Ivatan, the indigenous islands that have lived in harmony with the sometimes inhospitable land and sea for centuries.

Aside from the breathtaking vistas, the café operates as a farm-to-fork local cooperative for farmers and fishermen, as well as artists and other local merchants.

I would have returned to that café daily, but the local proprietor's daughter, Polly, told me that they were closing down for a few days for team building exercises, a common practice in the Philippines to both reward employees and foster trust and cooperation among them.

At one point, our trike stuttered, coughed and quit - right on the steepest part of the hill. I got out and tried to help by pushing, but it wasn't just a matter of our underpowered motorcycle but also the fact that my driver had forgotten to fill up his gas tank. Oops.

Towards the end of the afternoon, as the sun dropped to the vast horizon and the shadows grew long on the hills of Batanes, turning them from emerald green to black, our last stop was the Light House of Basco, one of three such guideposts for seafarers crossing the endless Pacific or stormy South China Sea.

I climbed the 66-foot circular staircases to the top, where I had a magnificent view of the surrounding Naidi Hills, the town of Basco, a few preserved Ivatan stone dwellings, and, of course, the sea.

So, I jogged up the incline in flip flops, arriving at the top panting, sweaty, dirty, and thoroughly happy. Luckily, all of the drivers know each other and help one another, and he transferred some fuel from another trike into a Coke bottle, and then we walked it back down to our stranded motorcycle and were soon on our way.

My second day there, I woke up to starkly different weather, with gray skies, stinging winds and rain. I took the day to catch up on work but also managed to venture out and explore the town of Basco, strolling with no particular destination in mind, turning down smaller and smaller side streets, and smiling and saying hello to the enthusiastic locals while snapping photos of the mundane elements of their daily lives, which were remarkable to me.

For instance, I learned that Basco (which is home to 8,000 of the island’s total 18,000 residents!) has the only gas station on the entire island of Batanes, a Petron with two pumps. That gas station is such a famous landmark that it's also home to the best restaurant in town (in my humble and limited opinion). There, I could dine on freshly caught seafood and even lobster for strangely low prices, while all other foodstuffs that had to be imported from the mainland were more pricey.

Some of Basco's infrastructure was uncharacteristically pristine, like the park and municipal buildings in the center of the town proper, or the Science High School, which was decorated with all the pomp and circumstance you'd expect at a top-flight Philippines university.

There was also very little litter (a big problem across the country and anywhere in Southeast Asia), clearly marked and organized recycling centers spread about, colorful public service announcements painted on rocks or signs hung on trees, and a trim, fit police force that carried no guns.

I stopped to snap a photo of a yellow and black marker that read simply “K 0000 BO,” as Bosco was the exact latitudinal starting point of the entire Philippines.

But there was also evidence of a more rustic existence, like the fact that there was no Wi-Fi. Like, on the whole island. Incredibly, the entire population communicates with the mainland and the outside world only through their cell phones.

At first, I panicked when they told me that since I have to work daily online. But my worst fears of being fired unilaterally were assuaged when they helped me buy a local SIM card and sign up for cell service, which functioned slowly but adequately as a hotspot for my computer – as long as the weather was good.

A few of the homes were extraordinary, in so much as you can take sturdy concrete shells designed to withstand the harshest weather and erosion and dress them up to like an English country manor. But most of the inhabitants of Bosco lived in simple and useful little abodes, with wooden or even metal shutters ready to be drawn against the elements. However, the starkness of their purpose didn't stop the residents from decorating and painting them whimsically, with colorful murals, flowering vines or gardens, and sunny décor.

The church in town was adorned with blue and white bunting that flapped in the breeze, and most people bought their goods from sari-sari stores (sort of like tiny neighborhood bodegas) that were so small and tightly packed that I had to squeeze through sideways so not to knock over a rack of eggs or shelf of rum bottles.

While the yard dogs barked fiercely as I approached, the people of Bosco were almost universally smiling, loved to chit-chat, and even invited me over to try some of their food.

The only one who wasn't agreeable when I walked by were two fisherman's' sons, who chopped massive dorado, amberjack, and flying fish on a wooden stand by the road, pulled so recently from the ocean that the fish’s eyes still looked startled by their newfound predicament.

No, this two fisherman kin never broke their stern frown and squinting eyes when I walked by, and only nodded disapprovingly when I said hi.

Maybe they knew something the rest of us didn’t and, like the fish that were now headless, they knew the stakes. A storm was coming.

And it was a big one.

-Norm :-)

***
Stay tuned for part two of this postcard about Batanes next month.

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Your August 2018 postcard from Norm: What’s so special about Thailand?

8/9/2018

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As I write this, I'm currently staying in Thailand for a month, not a vacation but still an enjoyable respite from life in the Philippines. In fact, the best of Thailand perfectly complements what the Philippines is lacking, and vice versa. I could see myself spending a few months here every year.

But it’s not my first rodeo in Thailand (so to speak). I came to the Kingdom of Siam way back in 1999 as I backpacked around the world with a friend. Thailand had a lot of backpackers and intrepid travelers but was far less commercial then. I was able to attend the last Full Moon Party before the Millennium, don a tuxedo and celebrate the coming of 2000 in Bangkok, exploring the small, virtually unknown mountain city of Chang Mai, and visited the island of Phuket about four years before the epic tsunami nearly wiped it off the map.

Since then, I’ve been back to Thailand many times, attending my good friend Judd Reid’s karate fight camps (and living to tell about it), hanging with my main man, Scotty P, who now lives here, and properly introduced to the island of Koh Samui by my Aussie mate, Clint G.

Through it all, my appreciation of Thailand has grown to respect and, dare I even say it, love.

While I don’t foresee ever calling the country home (but who knows?), here are 15 things that make Thailand so special:

1. Surprisingly clean, orderly, and everything works
“It’s like I’m in Beverly Hills!”

That’s what I say to my friends who live in Thailand every time I arrive there, as it appears like a remarkably clean, orderly, and well-run society. While they remind me that there is some pollution (and a whole lot of corruption), for me, it is dazzlingly first-class.

Everything works. Everything is simple to get or use. The infrastructure is great. And any convenience you could need steps away.

Then again, I’m usually coming from the stunningly chaotic and disorderly Philippines when I arrive in Thailand these days, but it’s still nice to be in my (poor man’s) Beverly Hills.

2. The food!
No country on the entire planet has better food than Thailand. In fact, the grub here is so tasty, healthy, abundant, and inexpensive that it boggles the mind. You can find endless great places to eat at the ubiquitous shops, kiosks, stalls, markets, and carts that you don’t even need to step foot into a proper restaurant to get amazing Thai food. Fish, seafood, vegetables, soups, noodles, rice, curries, and fresh fruit are all a part of the daily diet in Thailand, so your body will love you for it.

There is also so much tradition and etiquette that goes with Thai meal times that it almost takes on a ritual-like reverence. In fact, they say that Thai people take so much pride in their cooking that they choose to open up their own eatery instead of patronizing someone else’s!

Just be careful because the food can also be insanely spicy, so ask for “nitnoy” (a small amount) spicy or food good for a “farang” (foreigner).

3. Muay Thai
Muay Thai, or the art of eight deadly limbs (punches, kicks, elbows, and knees - times two), may be the national sport in Thailand, but it's more of a religion than an athletic endeavor. That's understandable when you consider that the origins of Muay Thai were around 1238 AD when elite warriors used it to protect from invasion during the Sukhothai Era.

It’s also a big business, with Muay Thai training centers and gyms just about everywhere. Many of them are simple, homemade operations with an open-air ring and some tires and bags to kick right in someone's backyard, but others are internationally renowned fighter factories. Foreigners may find it a tad ruthless, as they start training poor kids from a young age, where they sleep right on the mats at the gym, and aspiring pros often have 100 amateur fights before the age of 18.

But you can still take in a night of live Muay Thai fights at the heralded Lumpinee Stadium or the newer mecca, Rajadamnern Stadium in Bangkok, or in just about every other island or small town.

I’ve even managed to train with one of the all-time greats in Muay Thai, Sakmongkol Sithchuchok, who won eight various championships during his career. After our hour together, he gave me some words of wisdom that I carry with me always. The Muay Thai legend leaned over and told me, “You – no good Muay Thai.”

4. Definitely not Third World
Did you know that Thailand is the only country in Southeast Asia that has never once been invaded and conquered during its history? It’s true, as the Kingdom of Siam (its former name) was never even colonized by Europeans, in times when Vietnam, Cambodia, Indonesia, Laos, etc. were all referred to as Indochina.

It makes for a fascinating case study in the detriment of Colonialism because, now, Thailand is certainly not a Third World (or ‘Developing' in polite society) nation. It has one of the fastest growing economies in Asia thanks to manufacturing that accounts for two-thirds of its GDP, and it ranks as the wealthiest nation in South East Asia.

The Thais are not only better educated, have a higher standard of living, and enjoy stronger cultural sovereignty than their Southeast Asian neighbors, but they also display fierce independence and pride.

5. Language
The Thai language is sharp, spirited chatter to the Western ear – almost cartoonish in its inflections and exaggerations. It’s also incredibly difficult to learn, with 4 consonant symbols and 15 vowel symbols that combine with 28 vowel symbols and four tone diacritics, plus a “ka” for women and a “Khrub” for men. Whoa!

Some common sayings include “Sa-wat dee” (hello). Khop khun (thank you), Chok dee (cheers), and som nah na (it serves you right!)

But, for English speakers, there’s also a hilariously juvenile side to the Thai language, with names like Phuket, Bangkok, and billboards proclaiming that you should drink a beverage called “Si Min.” I’m not joking!

6. Buddhism
Buddhism is the predominant religion in Thailand. One of the things I love about Buddhism is that it’s more than just a spiritual practice, but a way of living your life, and there is no competition or conflict with other religions. Practicing Buddhism is also by no means confined to religious days and places of worship (although there are breathtakingly gorgeous and grand Wats – or temples – just about everywhere). Instead, Thais integrate Buddhist rituals and rights into their every day, such as putting out small alters of incense, fruit, coins, and other offerings, greeting each other with the traditional Buddhist “Wai” with two hands to the chest and a slight bow, and a civility and patience that is surprisingly prevalent in their society.

7. Known for Royalty
Up until 2016 when he passed at the age of 92, Thailand’s King, Bhumibol Adulyadej was the longest standing leader in the entire world, symbolically ruling Thailand’s constitutional monarchy since 1946. But more than just another autocrat, the King (who was born in Cambridge, Massachusetts in 1927) was (and still is) revered for his good deeds, progressive reforms, and genuine care for his Thai people. In fact, every single restaurant, business establishments, and most homes keep a framed portrait of the King out of respect.

His son, a notorious playboy and jet-setter, has taken over as the King of Thailand, and while he’s royalty and doing a serviceable job, it’s just not the same.

8. And frequent coups d'état (revolutions)!
But the King is nowhere near all-powerful in Thailand, as he's one of three pillars along with the other branches of government, the parliament, and the military. That system is fascinating because it's effective but certainly not stable, as there are revolts, rumblings, and outright coups every few years as all three sides jockey for position, forming alliances of two that allow them to take over the country. In fact, Thailand has seen 13 successful coups and 7 attempts to overthrow the government since 1932, or an average of one revolution every 4.3 years!

The last one was in 2014, when the Thai military seized power, creating a military junta that’s ruled ever since. Thankfully, they are usually without large-scale bloodshed (relatively) and more of an inconvenience for travelers and expats than an outright danger. But present-day Thailand has been criticized by human rights groups agencies and internal protestors for its police state that suppresses dissenting political views, criticism of the regime, and lese majeste (speaking poorly of the royal family). They even monitor and police online forums. (Gulp.)

9. Modernity
Thailand is surprisingly modern, civilized, and sophisticated, so those who are expecting an impoverished Banana Republic nation are quickly corrected. There is a firm Thai middle class who drive nice cars, live in new houses in well-planned communities, and conduct business. (In fact, Thais are incredibly entrepreneurial, and from local street vendors to huge multinational corporations, Thailand is definitely open for business!). Drive through Bangkok, and you'll see far more digital billboards, high-rise luxury condos, and international banks than you do slums and signs of poverty.

Even Bangkok’s Suvarnabhumi Airport is stunningly next-century, as you can see in this photo and read in this review I wrote for AllWorld.com.

10. Great healthcare
One thing I love about Thailand is the medical care, which is first rate and astonishingly affordable. I've had a host of injuries and maladies treated at hospitals in Thailand (thanks to Judd Reid's fight camp and food poisoning from bad Filipino grub!), and their facilities are sparkling clean, efficiently run, and it seems like three people are working for every patient! That's given rise to a whole lot of expats from the U.S. and many other countries who want to retire to Thailand in part because of the excellent medical care, or who just come for medical vacations, or medi-cations, a fast-rising sector.

For instance, last time I was here in March, I visited the hospital at least a dozen times, seeing plenty of specialists and getting every test known to man (including CAT scans, MRIs, etc.) as they tried to figure out what the hell was wrong with me (thanks again, Philippines food). The total cost for all of that was about $3,000 – which would have easily been $30,000 or way more in the U.S.!

11. The prices
I’m frugal, pennywise, thrifty, and every other adjective you can describe to say that someone hates to unnecessarily part with their money. To put it another way, I’m cheap. So, I fully appreciate when a country offers a lot of value for a reasonable price, and that's definitely Thailand. Between the healthy, clean, and abundant food that's moderately priced, to the good deals on hotels (but better deals on long-term stay condos), medical care and transportation, I can live like a King in Thailand for about $50 a day (roughly 1,600 Thai Baht). I even find Thailand more affordable for better quality and value than traveling in the Philippines, where I currently live.

12. The nightlife is loco!
“What the hell did I just see?” That’s a common utterance in one of Thailand’s notorious nightlife districts. From the capital city, Bangkok, to the tourist island of Phuket, the Full Moon Party in Koh Phangan (island), the Sin City of Pattaya, and more, the nightlife, bar scene, and seedy elements are as crazy as you'll find anywhere in the world – and immensely entertaining.

It’s also puzzling for a country that is so conservative and traditional in many other facets of law and society, but, like most things, the paradox can probably be attributed to profit.

But one country-wide celebration that I love that’s fun for the whole family is the water festival of Songkran.

Here’s a good write-up (if I do say so, myself) on Songkran.

13. Multi-culturalism
Despite being one of the most homogenous nations in the world, both ethnically and religiously, Thailand is a hotbed of multiculturalism.

Thanks to thriving centuries-old trade to its religious inclusion, ease of opening and doing business, and a high standard of living, people from all over the world come to Thailand to work and live. Most cities have an Arab Quarter or area (where I first stayed in Bangkok in 1999), and you’ll see endless Russians, Europeans, English, Australians, Israelis, more and more Africans, and others walking around every day.

It all blends seamlessly, with Thais at the top of the pecking order and everyone else left to figure it out.

14. Real estate…and other vices
Want to hear something interesting? The Thais have their own version of Las Vegas or Amsterdam, a seaside city called Pattaya only 90 kilometers from Bangkok. While it’s got a less-than-favorable reputation for its Walking Street red light district, the city has actually exploded as a place for couples and families from all over the world to come for vacation. The real estate market in Pattaya is SO hot, they can't construct these towering, glamorous condominium projects fast enough. One is being built right on top of the other, over and over with hundreds of thousands of units for sale.

However, I’d estimate that only about 10-20% of them are ever occupied. Instead of making its money through other vices, Pattaya’s real purpose is as a giant washing machine – laundering foreign money through Thai real estate. People who don't trust their own nation's banks, want to stay off of their government's radar, embezzle funds, make money in narcotics, or just want to benefit from stable foreign currencies can all effortlessly dump their cash into legitimate real estate investments in Thailand.

That’s fine with me, as it drives down prices to the point that I can stay at a gorgeous one-bedroom condo with a pool like a tropical paradise for a whopping price of…about $15 a night.

15. Island hopping and natural beauty
Can you believe that we’ve gone all the way down this list about Thailand without even mentioning the islands and natural beauty yet? Of course, that’s what most travelers best known Thailand for, and you’ve seen the jaw-droppingly gorgeous views of islands, rock formations, and jungle islands in this tropical paradise. Some of the nicest islands in Thailand include Koh (Koh just means ‘island’ in Thai) Samui, which I’ve visited at least once every year thanks to my Aussie Mate, Clint G, Koh Phi Phi, Koh Phanang, Koh Tao, and the aforementioned Koh Phanang.

It’s not just the islands and the geography that’s so impressive, as Thailand boasts plenty of tropical flora and fauna.

That includes world-class scuba diving, wild monkey islands, tiger farms (although many of them aren’t run well responsibly), and elephant sanctuaries that rescue these majestic animals and give them a healthy and happy place to live. These elephants are ecstatic to have visitors, and you can even bathe and play with them in the river (but not ride them).

-Norm :-)

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Your July 2018 Postcard from Norm - taking you to the forbidden island of Boracay.

7/10/2018

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The first thing I noticed was the quiet.

The island was silent. Still. Peaceful. Like I had found it in 1999 when I stumbled upon Boracay Island while backpacking around the world.

Since then, the diminutive island in the central Philippines has become one of the most popular tourist destinations in the region, with more than 2 million visitors last year.

Ranked as one of the best islands in the world by the New York Times Travel, Condé Nast Traveler, and many more, it’s since become a hotbed of commercial chatter, with music blasting, excited gaggles of language, and verbal assaults from solicitors trying to get you to sign up for a sunset cruise.

This is Boracay.

Or, this was Boracay, I should say, because it’s now eerily silent. Instead of tourists and touts, sun worshippers and solicitors, I could hear birds chirping in the palm trees, children’s laughter a kilometer down the beach, and dogs barking as they played gleefully. Ocean waves.

It was both a reminder of what the island used to be and how bizarre a situation it finds itself.

I know what you’re thinking: the island is closed to all tourists, so how the hell could a white boy from the U.S. slip through? Thanks to my humble gig writing a weekly column for the Dumaguete MetroPost newspaper here, I was able to score a media pass to access the island during the closure.

I can assure you that this was no vacation, as the island resembles little of the Boracay we’ve come to know and love.

After walking the entire span of White Beach and back again, I estimated that about 95% of the businesses are closed; boarded up, blacked out, cordoned off. Where there used to be a red velvet rope in front of a bustling nightclub, barbed wire is now strung.

A lot more are quasi-open, their rolling metal doors halfway rolled up, a glimpse of a few plastic chairs and cautious Filipino voices emerging from the darkness within.

There are also signs that, after only 45 days or so, the jungle is reclaiming what mankind took. Flower beds and once-trimmed landscaping are growing wild, the sand paths grow narrower as the brush encroaches, and a tree branch pushes through the tin roof of an abandoned building.

When my guide and I make it all the way down to the more private and secluded Diniwid Beach, I check in on one of Boracay's most iconic spots, Spider House.

It's hard to even describe Spider House, as it's a series of caves and openings built into the sharp rocks of a cliff, expanded into a home by a British family in the 1980s and later into a unique hotel. With a restaurant and bar on a wooden deck built into the rocks, where you could jump right down into the turquoise ocean below, Spider House was special.

But now, it’s dark and gloomy, a big iron gate chained and padlocked closed, with dust and cobwebs accumulating. When I call out, a surprised security guard comes down the rock stairs and tells me that Spider House is closed – and won’t be reopening, as the government is seizing the property for building code violations.

The luxury resort on the steep hillside next to Spider House is still completely burnt out and smoke-stained from a ravaging fire months ago, but never rebuilt.

On the long hike back to the more-popular White Beach area, we run into a lifeguard who I became friends with when I worked there in 2013. He’s one of only two lifeguards left on the whole 3-mile beach, like the piano player who wouldn’t leave his post as the Titanic went down.

Yet they're busier than ever, thanks to the fact that more locals (who may not be able to swim) are hitting the ocean, as well as a head-scratchingly confusing beach safety coding system that no one understands and everyone ignores.

A security guard with a shotgun stands watch over a graveyard of mattresses, freshly scrubbed and laid out in the sun to dry – finally their chance to do so since the hotel has no patrons.

In town, totems of a rushed departure remain, like a note on a broken store window that says, “Looking for a cook who can move to Palawan.”

To me, it all had a Lord of the Flies vibe; the iconic 1960s book in which civilization breaks down and is reconstructed in a more primal manner when a group of boarding school kids become stranded on a remote tropical island.

But the construction on Boracay is more literal. Everywhere you turn, there is work ongoing, like the whole island has been ripped open and disemboweled. Most of D-Mall’s walkway is gutted, with an oddly-small new sewer pipe running the span.

On the main road, backhoes and trucks sit unattended, blocking traffic. Cavernous ditches are cordoned off with yellow tape. Water fills in puddles and pools on the road, splashing mud on beleaguered pedestrians and moto drivers queued up to squeeze through.

“Did it rain today?” I ask my trike driver. “Wala rain,” he says - no rain.

Our trike moon-buggies through the rubble of half-felled buildings, piles of cinder blocks, and sagging electric lines. This is how Boracay looked the morning after Typhoon Yolanda, I recall, as I lived there in 2013.

“Half a road is better than no road,” my trike driver comments, sensing my consternation.

It’s also quite conspicuous that very few people seem to be working. It’s as if all of these projects were started with gusto the first week when government inspectors and media were watching, but then abandoned.

That's a scary proposition, especially since Boracay was nearly 20 percent through the expected six-month closure (when I was there to visit.) Very quickly, there was talk of delays, and that was even before 26 illegal sewage pipes were discovered on White Beach.

Despite the visible lack of progress, the Department of Environment announced that they’re targeting October 26, 2018 for the island’s reopening to tourism. The DOE also reiterated that only businesses that have proved compliant with the new government regulations will reopen, which now stands at only 90 out of 296 registered establishments on the island, according to Environment Secretary Roy Cimatu.

Regardless of the fine print, the light is at the end of the tunnel for Boracay’s closure, so we should be happy that everything will soon be back to normal, right?

Before the confetti falls and the band starts playing, I think it’s important to recognize the many lives that have been irrevocably altered since the Philippines’ most popular tourist destination hung a Closed sign. Unfortunately, the shutdown caused a significant human impact, with many honest, hard-working Filipinos working and living on the island the collateral damage.

“After the first week, there were thousands of people leaving the island,” says Hayden Fernando, a respected tour guide who lives in Caticlan with his family. “The ferry ports and bus stations were crazy, with people carrying boxes and bags and even their bedrolls – everything they owned. Some were crying. It looked like something from a war; like refugees.”

With their livelihood disappearing virtually overnight, possibly tens of thousands of workers took planes, boats, and a whole lot of buses. They fled to Manila or Cebu, where they're still trying to get jobs in call centers; to Siargao or El Nido, hoping to get new jobs in these tourist hot-spots; or, just home to the province where they could be with family and hope to get by.

The remaining locals are desperate for government relief to come, some resorting to fishing for dinner and climbing trees for fruit. The Palawan Pawnshops and Western Unions are lined with people hoping for a remittance from family or friends. Despite lining up in the hot sun upon every feint rumor of a job, six months may as well be an eternity since most were just barely scraping by before the closure.

The sudden draught of income is also tearing families apart, as husbands are forced to go to Iloilo or Cebu to look for work, and children are held out of school because there’s no money for a uniform or books.

The closure also recalibrated the local economy in unexpected ways. For instance, prices on staples, canned goods, and gasoline have actually gone way up since the shutdown. I even noticed a significant breakdown in services, as I waited for half an hour at the airport to get a trike, since few drivers are bothering to show up (and I don’t blame them.)

It's exceedingly hard just to get to Boracay, as both Cebu Pacific and Philippines Air have suspended all flights to Caticlan and most to Kalibo. I actually had to travel to Manila, first, from Dumaguete, and then take the single remaining flight on Air Asia to Caticlan.

It’s hard to find a silver lining as stomachs growl and candles are lit when there’s no money for the electric bill, but I did see something uplifting: the locals have the island to themselves again.

Slowly but surely, unburdened from armies of tourists, lofty prices, and the constraints of 12-hour work days, the island’s residents are coming out to play again, like Boracay of yesteryear.

“The first few days, when there were soldiers and police and TV cameras, the locals mostly stayed away,” says Fernando. “But people started emerging more each day.”

The beach is now spotted with local children, gleefully playing tag in knee-deep waters, bicycle riders cruising down the sand, and spirited games of ultimate frisbee and volleyball.

Laundry is hung to dry on a tree, in front of a hotel that used to cost 12,000 Pesos per night (about $250). At sunset, the small number of people left congregate on the beach in front of the reggae bar to celebrate, like survivors of a zombie apocalypse.

At the iconic Nigi Nigi Nu Noos, an open-air bar that I remember from my first visit in 1999, a band plays that evening, and I count more people on stage than sitting in the entire crowd.

When I climb the steps to Real Coffee Shop, my favorite place there for years, I startle the staff, as they’re not used to foreigners wandering in. They’re playing cards, and the loser gets their face written on in black marker. There’s laughter all around when I ask to take a photo of the lady who’s obviously losing, judging by the scribble all around her big smile.

THIS is Boracay.

This is the spirit of the island I’ve come to know and love.

And THESE are the people who won’t give up, despite the hunger and hard times knocking on their door.

All they have to do now is survive, one day at a time, together.

-Norm :-)

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The human impact of the Boracay Island closure.

7/7/2018

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Last week, we saw some welcome news when it comes to Boracay, as the Department of Environment announced that they’re targeting October 26, 2018 for the island’s reopening to tourism.

(For those of you who don't know, the island was shut down to all tourism and non-residents earlier this year in an unprecedented move to rectify environmental issues with sewage in its waters.)

The DOE also reiterated that only businesses that have proved compliant with the new government regulations will reopen, which now stands at only 90 out of 296 registered establishments on the island, according to Environment Secretary Roy Cimatu.

Regardless of the fine print, the light is at the end of the tunnel for Boracay’s closure, so we should be happy that everything will soon be back to normal, right?

Before the confetti falls and the band starts playing, I think it’s important to recognize the many lives that have been irrevocably altered since the Philippines’ most popular tourist destination hung a Closed sign. Unfortunately, the shutdown caused a significant human impact, with many honest, hard-working Filipinos working and living on the island the collateral damage.

I saw it with my own eyes; heard the stories first hand when I was there recently, covering the shutdown for the Metro Post.

“After the first week, there were thousands of people leaving the island,” says Hayden Fernando, a respected tour guide who lives in Caticlan with his family. “The ferry ports and bus stations were crazy, with people carrying boxes and bags and even their bedrolls – everything they owned. Some were crying. It looked like something from a war; like refugees.”

With their livelihood disappearing virtually overnight, possibly tens of thousands of workers took planes, boats, and a whole lot of buses for Manila or Cebu, where they’re trying to get jobs in call centers; to Siargao or El Nido, hoping to get new jobs in these tourist hot-spots; or, just home to the province where they could be with family and hope to get by

Do you remember the last time you were staying and playing on Boracay? Chances are, the nice, smiling young man or woman who took your order, checked you into your hotel, or took you scuba diving is probably long gone.

The remaining locals are desperate for government relief to come, some resorting to fishing for dinner and climbing trees for fruit. The Palawan Pawnshops and Western Unions are lined with people hoping for a remittance from family or friends.

Despite forming queues in the hot sun upon every feint rumor of a job, six months may as well be an eternity since most were just barely scraping by before the closure.

The sudden draught of income is also tearing families apart, as husbands are forced to go to Iloilo or Cebu to look for work, and children are held out of school because there’s no money for a uniform or books.

The closure also recalibrated the local economy in unexpected ways. For instance, prices on staples, canned goods, and gasoline have actually gone way up since the shutdown. I even noticed a significant breakdown in services, as I waited for half an hour at the airport to get a trike, since few drivers are bothering to show up (and I don’t blame them.)

It’s exceedingly hard just to get to Boracay, as both Cebu Pacfic and Philippines Air have suspended all flights to Caticlan and most to Kalibo. I actually had to travel to Manila, first, from Dumaguete, and then take the single remaining flight on Air Asia to Caticlan.

It’s hard to find a silver lining as stomachs growl and candles are lit when there’s no money for the electric bill, but I did see something uplifting: the locals have the island to themselves again.

Slowly but surely, unburdened from armies of tourists, lofty prices, and the constraints of 12-hour work days, the island’s residents are coming out to play again, like Boracay of yesteryear.

“The first few days, when there were soldiers and police and TV cameras, the locals mostly stayed away,” says Fernando. “But people started emerging more each day.”

The beach is now spotted with local children, gleefully playing tag in knee-deep waters, bicycle riders cruising down the sand, and spirited games of frisbee and volleyball. Laundry is hung to dry on a tree, in front of a hotel that used to cost $12,000 Pesos per night. At sunset, the small number of people left congregate on the beach in front of the reggae bar to celebrate, like survivors of a zombie apocalypse.

At the iconic Nigi Nigi Nu Noos, a band plays, and I count more people on stage than sitting in the bar. When I climb the steps to Real Coffee Shop, my favorite place there for years, I startle the staff, as they’re not used to foreigners wandering in. They’re playing cards, and the loser gets their face written on in black marker.

There’s laughter all around when I ask to take a photo of the lady who’s obviously losing, judging by the scribble all around her big smile.

THIS is Boracay. This is the spirit of the island I’ve come to know and used to love. And THESE are the people who won’t give up, despite hunger and hard times knocking on their door.

All they have to do now is survive, one day at a time, together.

-Norm :-)

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Why John Lennon and the Beatles wanted to "drop an H-Bomb" on the Philippines.

6/19/2018

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Each year, millions of foreigners touch down in the Philippines. The vast majority have a great time, enjoying her beaches, islands, and warm hospitality. However, every once and a while, visitors have a less than glowing experience. Sometimes, it can turn downright awful - or even dangerous.

That was a case when a notable group came to the Philippine back in 1966, only to draw the ire of the nation and barely escape intact.

The visitors were young men from Liverpool, England who were in a band called “The Beatles” and this is their story.

The Beatles landed in Manila on July 6, 1966 in the midst of the Marcos regime, booked to play two concerts at Rizal Memorial Stadium as part of their world tour. Accustomed to VIP pampering, they were instead bullied into a car by airport authorities to go handle their visas, forced to leave their luggage on the tarmac.

“I hated the Philippines. We arrived there with thousands upon thousands of kids, with hundreds upon hundreds of policemen – and it was a little dodgy,”said drummer Ringo Star later.

The band members were escorted by the military to a press conference and then sequestered on a yacht in Manila Harbor, where they were told they couldn’t leave for 24 hours until the day of the show. They also weren’t prepared for the heat, humidity, squalor and abject chaos of the Philippines.

“It was really humid, it was Mosquito City, and we were all sweating and frightened. We had a whole row of cops with guns lining the deck around this cabin that we were in on the boat” said George Harrison.

The Beatles were not only worried about the “menacing military fellas” around them and their boorish treatment but concerned that the small pharmacy of narcotics in their suitcases had been discovered (they hadn’t.) But, things went from bad to worse when the greatest band in the world snubbed the First Lady, Imelda Marcos.

The First Lady had sent an invite to the band to join her at the Presidential Palace at 11 am the morning of their show, and then again for a luncheon at 3 pm. However, it seems that Paul, John, Ringo, and the rest of the band never got word of that invite. Their promoter, Ramon Ramos, didn’t pass on the invite to the band’s manager since he was worried they’d decline, in part because the band was slated to start their concert only an hour later, at 4pm.

However, it was big news to everyone else in Manila the next morning.

The Manila Sunday Times, local TV stations, and radio shows covered the snub of the First Lady in detail. The band’s manager, Brian Epstein, quickly scrambled to do some damage control, filming an apology for Chanel 5 in which he explained that the band hadn’t known about the invites. But it never aired, as the state-controlled media blacked out the broadcast.

Of course, Imelda Marcos was used to being treated with reverence and exaltation, not being stood up so rudely, and especially after she planned a grand 200-guest party just for the Beatle’s visit. There would be consequences to the Beatles’ bad etiquette, for certain.

First, the security detail that had been guarding the band suddenly walked away. After news of the no-show was disseminated by the media, the hotel where the band stayed was also surrounded by irate fans. Growing concerned for their safety, the band members hustled to leave the hotel, only to get yelled at by a line-up of angry staff, who cursed them out in Tagalog and English.

When the Beatles arrived at Manila International Airport, they found even more vicious demonstrators ready to antagonize them. As the Beatles made their way into the terminal, the situation turned violent, with the angry mob pushing, grabbing, and spitting on the band members and their entourage, even beating their road manager and a few others.

The only way the band escaped into the airport unharmed was by mixing in with a group of Filipino monks and nuns who happened to be walking in, too. Finally, the frantic band was able to check in and board their flight.

“When we got on the plane, we were all kissing the seats,” said Paul McCartney.

However, their adventure in the Philippines wasn’t over quite yet. The Beatles were waiting for the plane to take off when the door opened, and military police and officials boarded. They escorted the band’s managers off, who were scared they were going to be thrown in jail or even executed.

But it was just one last shakedown to see the Beatles off. The managers were forced to surrender all of the proceeds from the concert the night before to the tax authorities, leading John Lennon to later remark about the Philippines, “If we go back, it will be with an H-bomb. I won’t even fly over the place.”

-Norm :-)

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The UK's Best Cultural Events

6/18/2018

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When you visit a new destination, there are a few different ways to try to get to know it. You can go sightseeing and hit the top landmarks; you can explore aimlessly, with the hopes of finding a few hidden gem destinations that might not have been in the guide books; you can ask locals what they might recommend you do if you don’t want to be just another tourist. Any of these can give you a different sort of angle on the same place, and if you can fit in a little bit of each of them, you’ll have done well for yourself.

But if you really want to get a feel for the culture of a destination, you might want to try to do it via events. From sporting events to festivals, these kinds of things often showcase a lot of local tradition, and also invite the local people to act in the most natural (and fun-loving) way.

Naturally, if you’re looking to get to know the UK, you won’t be able to hit all of these events in one go. But if the idea of event-centric cultural exploration appeals, it’s certainly worth planning around one or two of them.

The Grand National

Really you could pick from three major horse racing events in the UK here: The Cheltenham Festival, the Grand National, and the Royal Ascot. But the Grand National may pack the best combination of good weather and festivity. Held every April near Liverpool, it’s a multi-day event at which spectators dress up (in traditionally gaudy-but-stylish horse racing attire), have a few drinks, and often place a few bets before enjoying the races. There’s just something quintessentially British about the whole affair.

RHS Chelsea Flower Show

A flower show might not sound like much, but the Chelsea area of London makes quite a big deal out of it. This year, for instance, 10 show gardens and 16 smaller gardens are on the menu. This is not a loud event or an over-the-top festival or anything like that, but it’s a nice chance to spend time out and about in London with a crowd of people enjoying the simple beauty of well-arranged garden. Sometimes, the queen even attends!

Summer Solstice

The Summer Solstice is effectively just the longest day (and shortest night) of the year, and is celebrated by different people in different ways all over the world. The UK has a particularly interesting Summer Solstice celebration, however, taking place at the famous monument of Stonehenge. Basically, there are certain places where you can stand at Stonehenge and see a particularly spectacular sunrise through the stones themselves, and over time this has led to the area becoming something of a pilgrimage destination for the northern solstice. The atmosphere is almost like that of a concert, with crowds of people hanging out, sipping beverages, lounging on picnic blankets, etc. - but there’s a spiritual element to it all.

Glastonbury Festival

The UK, as you might imagine, is home to dozens of different music and arts festivals, which are really the pinnacle of what we’d consider “cultural events.” But none can beat the Glastonbury Festival in Somerset. It’s a five-day series of performances, revolving largely around music but also including theatre, comedy, dance, and even circus shows. It’s one of those events that seems to get bigger and better every year, and it draws a huge crowd of locals and tourists alike.

Wimbledon

Wimbledon is the oldest and most prestigious tennis event in the world, according to one guide looking ahead to this summer’s tournament. This means that it effectively transcends its sport, such that while it’s primarily a tennis tournament, it has over time become a great deal more. This is for many one of the most undeniably delightful London experiences - an event full to bursting with tradition and history, where everyone is friendly, excited, and consciously thrilled to be there.

Belfast International Arts Festival

Many people forget to include Northern Ireland when talking about UK events, which is a shame because there’s a lot going on, particularly in Belfast. This particular festival is more or less just what it sounds like, featuring performing and visual art, dance, music, and more. It’s less of a giant get together than, say, Glastonbury, but it’s a very authentic occasion that will expose you to the passion that a place like Belfast has for the arts in general.

Bonfire Night

If you study your historical upstarts or you’re a fan of the film V For Vendetta, you probably know about Guy Fawkes, who famously tried to blow up the House of Lords in London in 1605. Bonfire Night essentially celebrates this semi-mythologized occasion with general revelry, often surrounding bonfires, torches, and/or fireworks displays. There are a lot of Bonfire Night celebrations around the UK, so this isn’t a single centralized event, but attending any one of them gives you a chance to partake in a specifically British holiday of sorts.

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Your June 2018 Postcard from Norm: Dying to be healthy.

6/17/2018

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When you run into expats abroad, who are usually grumpy old men, there’s one cardinal rule for interaction: never ask them how they’re doing.

With that simple question, you risk opening up the floodgates of a whinging and whining marathon where they tell you every intimate detail of their gout, varicose veins, or erectile dysfunction, all while gumming their scrambled eggs and sipping beer at 9:30 in the morning.

I’ve learned to avoid that question (and to avoid them) altogether because, to me, there’s nothing worse than when someone starts telling you about their health problems.

That being said, let me tell you about my recent health problems.

It started a week before Christmas, when I was so lightheaded and dizzy that I almost passed out every time I stood up. Everything I ate made me queasy. I was full after a few bites but my stomach felt bloated no matter how little I ate. I was completely sapped, like my energy dial had been turned from ten down to two. It felt like something inside of me was stealing my nutrition.

This isn’t unexpected in the Philippines. I've traveled to a lot of countries, but this is one of the filthiest. Don’t get me wrong, it’s also one of the best, but the lack of cleanliness I encounter on a daily basis would make a medieval peasant go, “That’s nasty.” It’s also hot and insufferably humid most of the year, essentially making it a big Petrie dish.

Still knocking me out after a few days, I visited a “reputable” doctor, who diagnosed that I had just a bad hangover (despite the fact that I hadn’t touched a drink.) A day later, I nearly fainted. I grabbed a taxi to the nearest Korean medical clinic where they did some tests, but found nothing. They did hook me up to an IV for an hour, which made me feel better for about twenty minutes and let me take little nap, but my malady didn’t go away.

Was it worms? Tapeworms are a common in the Philippines because of bad water.

I remember meeting these twins from England; really nice guys who were tall, strong and in good health. One of them told me that earlier that year, his brother had fallen ill with a stomach problem that wouldn’t go away, too.

In the end, the doctors realized it was a tapeworm. It had grown unchecked for so long in his stomach that they had to remove it surgically, cutting a hole in his belly and pulling it out. With his healthy twin brother watching (and videoing), the doctor removed a three-foot yellow tapeworm from the incision. Even the doctor started gagging and almost lost his lunch!

After that, there was no way they were going back to local Filipino food. So, their concerned mum in England sent a huge crate of canned, boxed, and non-perishable food, which cost a small fortune but kept them eating safely for six months.

I didn’t have the luxury of a pallet of food from home, but I did suspect that the Loch Ness monster was lurking in my gut.

Hoping it would pass soon, I stuck to my normal routine. Of course, I still had to work, but I’d need three or even four naps a day just to drag myself through.

I remember going to the gym and having difficulty making it up the two flights of stairs before even working out. My boxing trainer laughed at me and said that I always looked so tired.

Luckily, I had a trip scheduled to Thailand, where the medical care is first-class compared to the Philippines. There, I had high hopes as I booked my first appointment at the sparkling and modern Bangkok Hospital.

Over a three-week span, I think I went to Bangkok Hospital about fifteen times, as well as several other clinics and various pharmacies.

Staying at a condo near where my buddies Judd and Scott live, every morning I’d drag myself up to the street to get a motorcycle taxi, which zoomed me through traffic under the blistering sun, delivering me to the hospital’s gate sweating and even dizzier.

It became so routine that the taxi drivers would see me coming and spring into action, knowing exactly where I was going. When I returned to my condo, they’d give me a thumbs up or thumbs down, not out of concern but because they were taking bets if I’d make it to another day.

I started with a gastrointestinal specialist, but after a week of appointments and tests, they found nothing. So, I was referred to different departments, visiting specialists in Gastroenterology, Radiology, Haematology, Cardiology, Microbiology, and Neurology, where I consulted with doctors named Bundit Leetanapon, Thitma Vutivivatanakul, and Sompote Saelee.

Each day, the nurses made it a point to measure my height and weight (as if that changed overnight), take my blood pressure (that did), checked for a fever, and registered other vitals.

They also took blood; a lot of blood. Most days, I had fresh Band-Aids on the inside of my elbows or the back of my hands. I’d rip them off on the motorcycle taxi ride back home so that people didn’t think I was a junky. After a while, the nurses had to search for veins that hadn’t been tapped the day before.

In total, I estimate that they took a dozen blood tests, sometimes filling up two or even three vials.

In those dark weeks, I was subjected to more medical tests than I’ve had in the rest of my life combined. They took MRIs, chest x-rays, organ x-rays, antibody tests, glucose tests, hormone readings, and abdominal ultrasounds.

They counted my nitrogen, counted my testosterone levels (concluding that I’m somewhere between a prepubescent ballerina and the Hulk, but leaning more towards the former), and counted my white blood cells.

They poked, prodded, and did things to me that should require dinner and a movie first.

But the scariest of all was when they sent me to the basement of the hospital to the Medical Imaging Department, where I was given a CAT scan. For those of you who have never been through this, Computed Tomography scans your brain, providing a detailed map of any abnormalities.

It’s also an intensely frightening process, as they situate you on a conveyor belt that rolls into the bowels of a big machine. An arcane apparatus locked my head in place, making it impossible for me to move – or escape. There, a virtual prisoner in the hot, airless tube for almost an hour, I fought off panic—the most claustrophobic I've ever felt since I was locked in the trunk of a car while tripping on mushrooms back in the day (that's another story, altogether.)

To inject some much-needed levity into my days, I took selfies wearing the hospital gown and sent them to random people with no explanation, or invented a game show where I won prizes for correctly guessing the diseases of the other patients in the waiting room.

"Yes, I'll take elephantitus for $400 please, Alex.”

Of course, I had to pay handsomely for this privilege of being a human lab rat. After each visit, they had an attendant walk me down to the billing department and supervise the transaction, making sure I paid without running out the front door (which definitely crossed my mind.)

I visited the ATM every day, taking out my daily limit to pay off bills for 4,500 Baht, 9,200 Baht, and even 16,500 Baht. After a while, I didn’t even bother checking the statements for accuracy, just forking over all the Thai Baht notes in my pocket.

(I’m looking through this stack of bills now and see that they once included a Midwifery Charge!)

While even a fraction of these hospital visits would bankrupt me in the U.S., the total for all of these appointments, tests, procedures, and medications was $3,600 - a testament to the Thai healthcare system (and how bad ours is in the U.S.).

So, what was the result? After a forest of paperwork, lab results, and consultation records, they still couldn’t find anything conclusive.

I did learn that I had no gross effusion or pneumothorax, normal echogenicity of the liver parenchyma without focal lesion, and no intrahepatic or extrahepatic bile duct dilation was detected.

It was also told that my gallbladder is unremarkable, to which I took great personal offense. (“F you! YOUR gallbladder is unremarkable!”)

If you think it’s hard to decipher medical-speak, try doing it in Thai! So, it was understandble if a few mistakes were made, like when they listed my ethnicity as Africa-American at one point, or when they documented my symptoms as “Dizziness and giddiness.”

But they still never found out what the hell was wrong with me.

That didn’t stop me from being on a roller coaster of anticipation and stress as I waited for the outcome of the next test, and then the next, and another.

Did I have an ulcer? I was sure of it - until the test results came back negative. But then it must be Lyme Disease, right? It took two weeks to get those results back, but they were inconclusive. Cancer? It must be cancer. Nope. A brain tumor? Nada. Leukemia? Next, please. How about HIV? Oh my God, was I dying of AIDS?

I tried to recall every suspect woman, shared needle, and rhesus monkey from my checkered past. But, of course, the test came back negative.

Each night when I got home from the hospital, I’d Google the disease de jour that I was certain afflicted me. I’d make mental allowances for how my life would change, researching treatment options and reading blogs from support groups.

"Hi, I'm Norm, and I'm living with Lou Gehrig's Disease. Well, no, I don't actually have it yet, but one can really never get started too soon. Now, are those donuts free?"

This may sound ridiculous in retrospect, but I only knew that something was very wrong with me.

Was it all in my head? What if I was, in fact, going insane? I mean, I know I’m crazy, but maybe I was crazy-crazy?

I tried to will it away, think positive, and just brush it off, but that was as effective as trying to heal a broken arm with your mind.

I reached the fragile and frazzled state where I actually wanted something to come up positive in these tests, just so that I could finally know what I was up against. I remember being strangely disappointed when yet another doctor sat me down and explained that everything looked normal.

I just wanted it to end, but was resigned that this is how I might feel the rest of my life. To reconcile my karma with the Gods, I started spraying donations to various charities, as if that would help. I was desperate.

Soon, my time in Thailand was up, and I boarded my flight back to the Philippines no wiser and with little hope.

Soon, I was back in my adopted hometown of Dumaguete, back in my routine of four naps a day just to get through work, avoiding the gym less someone made fun of me for looking so tired.

One evening, I sat down at an outdoor restaurant overlooking the ocean for some dinner. There was an old, cantankerous expat sitting next to me, a grizzled former logger from Canada who looked just a shade too ugly to play Charles Bukowski in a movie.

I tried to avoid eye contact. But, when he started complaining about the heat in my general direction, I was too exhausted to protest. It turns out, he’d lived in the Philippines for decades. Sure enough, he soon started a litany of complaints about his health.

“Every year, it’s like this,” he said sipping his beer and holding his distended stomach. “Too tired to leave the house. And don’t want to eat for months. There’s something in the air, or maybe the water. An amoeba, I think. I once knew a Swiss doctor in the ‘80s who carried his own antibiotics…”

“Wait, what? You said your stomach hurts?”

“Bloated,” he said, flagging down the waitress to order another beer.

He went on to describe his symptoms, which were down to the very one that I’d been experiencing for four months.

Son of a bitch – it was a stomach thing, just like I thought, despite the fact that all of the doctors found nothing. But while I was ready to fly back to Thailand and demand my money back, something miraculous happened: I started to feel better.

Gradually and mercilessly, without any more medications or hospital visits, I began to recover.

The next week, I only felt dizzy a few times, and my energy started climbing. The week after that, I woke up one day and felt completely like myself.

I was back, baby! My sky was blue again.

No longer was I dying to be healthy.

So, what's the moral of this story? That health is precious? To count your blessings? That you don't know what ya got 'til it's gone?

Nah, nothing that cliche.

The only thing I took out of this whole experience is that whenever you run into expats, who are usually disheveled and grumpy old men, it always pays to ask them how they’re doing.

-Norm :-)

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Spade, Bourdain; +369

6/9/2018

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In the time between Kate Spade’s suicide on June 5 and Anthony Bourdain taking his own life only three days later, 369 others may have committed suicide in the U.S. if statistics hold true.

The high-profile tragedies of Spade and Bourdain profoundly affected many of us, as evidenced by how we pay our condolences, open up about our own lives, and renew the mental health discussion on Facebook and elsewhere. That’s understandable, as these people were stars and icons.

But you didn’t really know them, and any relationship you had with their public persona was one-sided.

So, I wanted to remind people that in real life, mental health and suicide often don’t "look" as sexy and successful as Kate Spade or Anthony Bourdain.

Instead, people who end up committing suicide may be awkward and unpopular; the overweight child eating lunch by him or herself; the employee that no one talks to because they’re a little weird; the housewife who is the subject of gossip. Instead of running billion-dollar fashion empires or exploring the world through our television sets, people who attempt to end their own lives probably are a lot more like the rest of us.

Furthermore, pain, isolation, and illness often make people act differently, look not so great, and even land on the streets, jobless, or addicted.

Would you reach out to Spade and Bourdain if that was their situation, instead of being rich and famous stars? Or, would you walk right by them on the street if they asked you for some spare change or begged a kind word?

One of the hardest things in the world is to give compassion to someone who doesn’t look or act like they deserve it. But we have the opportunity to do just that every day, and it may help someone stay with us.

According to the American Foundation for Suicide Prevention, 123 people on average commit suicide every day in the U.S., and countless hundreds or thousands more around the world. In fact, suicide is the 10th leading cause of death in the U.S., with nearly 50,000 each year.

Remember also that for every suicide that ends in death, there are 25 attempts. A 2016 survey by the National Survey of Drug Use and Mental Health found that every year, 0.5 percent of U.S. adults make at least one suicide attempt, which adds up to about 1.3 million people.

So, I urge you not just to mourn Spade and Bourdain, but to remember the 369 others who commit suicide every 36 hours on average in the U.S., and to reach out to those who are struggling right now who you do know and who are in your life.

- Norm :-)

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29 Things scientifically proven to make us unhappy.

5/18/2018

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Want to feel happier?

There are millions of articles, blogs, YouTube videos, and memes that instruct us how to squeeze the nectar out of life. However, for the seeker of fulfillment, there are far fewer guides that teach us about what pitfalls and traps to avoid along the way. In fact, positive psychology – the new science of happiness – offers some very definitive research and studies on what factors, circumstances, and attitudes in our lives with make us feel less happy.

The good news is that I sorted through the most up to date studies, surveys, and data to identify these 29 things that are scientifically proven to make you unhappy:

1.         Holding a grudge
Too often, we cling to petty arguments, construed slights, and perceived wrongs. But when we allow our ego to hold grudges, our anger poisons our own happiness – not the other person’s.

2.         Being too well off
Wait, making too much money will make us UNhappy? Are we sure we have that right? Yes, as numerous studies by the World Health Organization and others found that increasing income does correlate with increased levels of happiness UNTIL that income reaches a certain threshold. After that, you won't become happier just because of the dollars you make or what you have. (For that reason, depression is more prevalent in higher-income nations than poorer countries.)

You might be wondering what that income threshold is? About $70,000!

3.         Giving up on our dreams
It matters not whether we’ll ever achieve them or not, but just the pursuit of our dreams has been proven to higher happiness levels. In fact, abandoning our dreams results in decreased levels of joy, passion, and emotional health.

4.         Not making time for the things that bring us joy
Just like giving up on our dreams, when we don’t prioritize even a little time each day, week, or month for the things we love, our feelings of overall happiness are sure to sink.

5.         Letting our minds wander
A 2010 Harvard study found that when our minds wander, we're significantly less happy. In fact, researchers found that our minds wandered about 46.9% of the time, no matter what we were doing. And while 4.6% of our happiness is attributed to what we're doing at that moment, 10.8% of our positive mental state is determined by our thoughts at any given time.

6.         Superficial relationships
Research shows that when we “settle” and date, become friends with, or do business with someone who we don’t really like or respect, it holds us back from achieving greater fulfillment.

7.         Not challenging yourself
Small goals + small aspirations + small effort = less happy. That’s the formula for NOT keeping a joyful, sunny outlook day in and day out. It seems that when we don’t challenge ourselves, we feel less connected, less part of something bigger than ourselves, and less passionate – all factors in unhappiness.

8.         Comparing ourselves to others
Buddha said, “Comparison is the thief of joy,” and I definitely can’t put it any better than that. But most of us still do it, especially in this era of social media, television and advertisements, and the Keep-Up-With-The-Jones’ mentality.

9.         Valuing things over memories and experiences
If you’re constantly focused on acquiring STUFF (no matter how nice that stuff may be!) over the more intangible goals of making lasting memories and enjoying experiences (especially with others), then your happiness will take a hit.

10.       Not being appreciated/treated fairly at work
You may think that too much work (or having a job at all!) is the cause of your dissatisfaction, but that’s not the case. In fact, research proves that even with a heavy workload, it’s feeling underappreciated, treated unfairly, and undervalued by your employer that will sink your morale.

11.       Not coping with our shame or guilt
They say that depression is anger turned inwards, and, likewise, when we carry guilt and shame about something we've done and don't come to terms with it and forgive ourselves, our daily joy will be impacted.

12.       Self-medicating
Whether it's bad food, alcohol and drugs, painkillers, porn, or even addiction to work, we're self-medicating like never before – but not facing the cause of our unrest. In fact, Brene Brown put it best when he said, “The USA is the most medicated, in debt, addicted and obese nation in the world.”

13.       Lack of sleep
Sleep science is an emerging field, as new research shows that our lack of sleep, restlessness due to overuse of electronics, and even sleep apnea are making us more prone to depression and high anxiety levels than ever before. It's hard to feel consistently happy when you're exhausted, burnt-out, and lacking energy.

14.       Caring what others think
All the way back in the 1930s in his book, Conquest of Happiness, author and introspective icon Bertrand Russell identified "fear of public opinion" as a major cause of unhappiness. Now, think about how dangerous our current snake pit of social media and online opinions is to our mental health!

15.       Not being close to siblings
This is one that I didn’t expect at all – the early connection with siblings. In fact, research from the American Journal of Psychiatry has shown that when we grow up without close relationships and bonds with our brothers or sisters, our risk of depression and unhappiness goes way up later in life.

16. Giving in to our fears.
Everyone is scared of something – or a lot of somethings – to varying degrees. But the good news is that the secret to happiness isn’t that we necessarily need to CONQUER those fears, we just can’t give up trying to face them. Try to confront your fears head-on and do a little better each day, and you’re already winning!

17. Not giving, volunteering, and contributing.
Studies show that our levels of satisfaction peak when we're giving – not receiving. In fact, those who volunteer, donate, or get involved with helping others regularly have been proven to live longer, stay healthier, and enjoy much higher levels of happiness!

18. Our favorite TV series ending?!
Seriously? Yup! We actually get down in the dumps when our favorite TV show or, now, Netflix series, ends. According to Emily Moyer-Guse, Ph.D., people form a ''parasocial relationship" with their favorite ongoing TV programs, and feel "distress" when they end. That backs up something called the "Avatar Effect" that was observed in viewers after the 2010 movie (because the utopian planet wasn't real) and the increase in depression among Harry Potter fans when the franchise ended in 2011.

19. Not being in the moment.
We think, analyze, scrutinize, anticipate, and plan for the future, or remember, relive, memorialize, or exaggerate the past. However, the modern person seems to have forgotten how to be awake, aware, and present right now!

20. Not being a part of something bigger than ourselves.
Researchers have identified areas called "Blue Zones" across the world, pockets where people typically live to 100 years with an excellent quality of life. They've studied the similarities in these Blue Zones, which include staying active, a specific diet, etc. But those variables also always include being part of a bigger community or movement, as human beings fundamentally need something bigger than ourselves to be happy.

21. Flat-out boredom.
Work. Pay bills. Home. Errands. Gym. Eat. Watch TV. Sleep. Repeat. The typical modern person is stuck on autopilot. While we're also more comfortable than ever, we don't have enough of the other things on this list to break us out of our boring routines.

22. Coveting what others have.
We WANT more than ever, and it's making us miserable. If you want to be happy, practice GRATITUDE every day instead of WANTING that car, house, job, vacation, more money, a better body, or the perfect relationship.

23. Facebook and social media (again).
Are you starting to see a common theme? Researchers have identified something called the "Compare and Despair Effect," in which feelings of jealousy, suspicion, and discontent in their relationships increases as they spend more time on Facebook. Likewise, a study by University of Michigan psychologist Ethan Kross discovered a correlation between time spent on Facebook and feelings of dissatisfaction, loneliness, and isolation in participants.

24. Too much freedom of choice?!
Human beings value their freedom above all else, but only within the last generation or two in human history have we run into an unprecedented phenomenon -  too much choice. Believe it or not, having the luxury of unending choices and decisions can actually sink the psyche. Consider two research projects published by the Stanford University's Department of Psychology and Colombia University, which discovered that too much freedom of choice makes us feel “bewildered,” misguided, disconnected, and even depressed.

25. Junk food and an unhealthy diet.
The average American is now fatter, unhealthier, and more diseased than ever, and our diet is the leading cause part of that problem. But more than just physical manifestations, a poor diet is also linked to stress, depression, anxiety, anger, and even mental illness, as documented in studies by the Public Health Nutrition journal. In fact, they found that people who regularly eat commercial fast food (hamburgers, hotdogs, soda, doughnuts and pizza) were 51% more likely to develop depression, compared to those who eat little or none. If you want to feel happy, eat a clean, healthy diet!

26. Living in high altitude?!
I didn’t expect to read about this one! But studies have shown that when human beings start living higher up (2-3,000 feet and higher), their rate of suicide increases. Dr. Barry E. Brenner explains that "The correlation is very, very, very high, and it happens in every single region of the US."
Based on two decades of mortality data collected from the U.S. Centers for Disease Control and Prevention, they found that hypoxia, a lack of oxygen to the body's cells and tissues that occurs at higher altitudes, may cause profound mood disturbances, often leading to suicide.

27. Not socializing.
In his 2011 bestselling book, Positive Psychology, New York Times columnist David Brooks highlights research that sometimes, it’s the simple things that keep us happy. In fact, he shares data that “the daily activities most closely associated with happiness are social,” such as “socializing after work” and “having dinner with friends.” So, if you want to be happy, go hang out with your friends and coworkers!

28. Technology over interaction
It's apparent that we're slaves to our smartphones and screens, but that practice is also pulling us away from something that is fundamental to happiness: human interaction. In fact, the father of psychology, Sigmund Freud, anticipated the human isolation technology would cause way back with the advent of the telephone! In 1930, Freud wrote, "If there had been no railway to conquer distances, my child would never have left his native town and I should need no telephone to hear his voice.”

Much more recently, clinical psychologist and MIT professor Sherry Turkle writes in her 2011 book, Alone Together, that “online life tends to promote more superficial, emotionally lazy relationships, as people are drawn to relationships that seem low risk and always at hand.”

29. Lack of exercise
Want to feel better almost instantly? From a scientific standpoint, there is nothing better to boost the “happiness chemicals” in the brain, improve oxygen intake, lower stress, and brighten your mood than vigorous exercise. And you don’t have to hit to the gym to feel the benefit, as even some simple yoga, pushups and situps at home, or a brisk walk will do the trick!

-Norm :-)

1 Comment

Your May 2018 Postcard from Norm: The best island in the world that no tourist can visit.

5/15/2018

9 Comments

It’s been named the best island in the world by the Travel + Leisure Magazine, CNN, the New York Times Travel, and many others, and the top island for tourism in the Philippines. Now, it’s shut down; closed to tourists and any visitors; an island quarantined from the outside world and guarded by the military; uniformed troops with machine guns patrolling its beaches.

Welcome to Boracay.

The island has also been in the news lately, as the Philippines President, Rodrigo Duterte, upon a recent visit, called the once-pristine island "a cesspool." In an unprecedented move, he ordered it closed to all tourism until the island's environmental issues could be addressed.

The problem? Basically, a couple million people a year create a lot of human waste, and the island has no sewage processing plants. So, everything ends up in the water system and flushed out to sea, where it's changed the ecosystem so much that a huge field of green algae plagues the shores of the island. Gross, right?

So, as of April 26, 2018, the once-bustling Boracay is completely shut down for six months as they work to install a sewage system that will accommodate all of those tourists, among other environmental and infrastructure mandates.

Virtually overnight, the island went from an everyday population of around 50,000 people to only several hundred. It's a surreal situation, leaving people scrambling to figure out if they could stay, had to go, or how they could make a living.

According to the Philippines government, long-time residents, property owners, and business owners could stay, as could employees of those businesses. They could also keep their hotels, bars, restaurants, and shops open for business… except now that there would be no tourists walking the sandy shores or spending money. All tourists – both foreigners and Filipinos – are banned from the island, with armed troops, police, and coast guard patrolling the beaches, roads, and seaport.

The before and after photos are shocking, as you can see what Boracay looked like only one year ago (at the popular Laboracay festival) compared to now.

What's lost in the international headlines and local political debate is the plight of the 26,000 people who live and work there, as well as many more who commute there by ferry every day to work. In fact, nearly the entire populace of the island – and the province of Aklan on the neighboring island – make their living off of tourism.

Now, only one month into the six-month closure, they're already suffering, keeping their kids out of school because they can't afford tuition and uniforms, trying to sell everything they own except the shirts on their backs, and, in many cases, going hungry.

I’ve had a long and notable relationship with the island and its people, which I'll recap in this postcard.

1999

I first stepped foot on the sands of Boracay in 1999, another impromptu stop on a trip backpacking around the world with my good American buddy, Phil. The island still had very few tourists on it, as I remember just a smattering of guest houses and nipa huts in the middle of the jungle. While the beach was spotless and beautiful, it was still wild, and the small number of foreigners tended to be German guys there to engage the surprising number of Filipino transvestites. Yes, you read that right. There were even signs to attract "Third Sex" patrons at beauty parlors and other businesses.

While I didn’t partake in that local tradition, I did do a whole lot of swimming. I was coming off running (or attempting to run) a marathon in the nearby city of Cebu, and my feet were so tore-up and bloody from wearing new sneakers that I could barely walk, limping around the sand path for the week we were there.

What does silver screen starlet Liz Taylor have to do with Boracay? Learn more about the history of the island here.

But I could still swim, and did so for an hour every morning and afternoon, dodging the small local Barka fishing boats while watching the most beautiful sunsets I’d ever seen.

That was Boracay, and I gave it little thought after we left for the next exciting destination.

2013

I came back to Boracay in 2013, 14 years after I first visited. Having just moved to Asia six months prior, I wanted to try life in the Philippines as an expat instead of my former stop, Vietnam. So, I came back to Boracay and lived there for several months.

Already, it was unrecognizable. That little sand path gave way to a larger sand lane that spanned the whole 3-mile beach front. Those small guest houses and huts were now modern resorts, shops, and restaurants.

But it hadn't lost what made it unique – the perfect white sand beach like talcum powder running through your hands. The beach and the shallow turquoise waters were pristine, and you couldn’t even find a bottle cap, cigarette butt, or plastic bag discarded anywhere.

The people living there were still locals, too, and there was a sense of community and family among the island’s inhabitants. While there were a lot of tourists already, I had no idea how much it would grow in the future – or what was coming next.

Typhoon Yolanda hits Boracay.

On November 8, 2013, Typhoon Yolanda (international name: Haiyan) slammed into the Philippines, killing tens of thousands and burying parts of whole coastal cities in water. With wind gusts up to 278 km/h (235 mph) and 10 meter (30 foot) sea swells, it was considered the strongest typhoon in recorded history ever to make landfall. Yolanda was heading right for the isolated and unprotected island of Boracay, too.

I was still living on Boracay at the time, and news of the coming storm gained my attention a few days out, when locals started boarding up their windows, long lines formed for supplies at the local stores, and the impending typhoon made every headline.

I tried to evacuate to the neighboring mainland along with thousands of other stranded tourists and locals. But we were turned away since the Coast Guard shut down all boat traffic off the island 48 hours before the typhoon.

Looking around the island, it registered that we'd all be underwater if those sea swells did come. Resigned that I might be facing my demise, I stocked up on supplies, too, said my goodbyes and headed down to a little bar on the beach to watch the storm come in until it grew unsafe.

Luckily, the heart of the typhoon blew just south of Boracay, so the island was spared the horrors that devastated Leyte, Samara, and Tacloban.

I took some video and wrote blogs about the typhoon that went viral, earning me interviews with international media like CNN and more.

Soon after, I was able to leave Boracay, and I eventually moved to Cambodia.

2015-2017

The experience of being on Boracay for the typhoon and its aftermath was my inspiration as I wrote my most recent travel memoir, The Queens of Dragon Town.

After I moved away to Cambodia, I still managed to visit the Philippines once a year, including Boracay. I enjoyed checking in on old friends who live there (Mox, Hayden, Anthony, Marix, etc.) and introducing new buddies to the island (Scotty Powell, Judd Reid).

But the island that used to be wild and pristine was now overrun with tourists. In fact, last year, more than 2 million tourists came to Boracay, including 375,000 Chinese and 356,000 South Koreans, who have a reputation for being loud, rude, littering, treating locals poorly, and doing just about everything they could to denigrate the environment.

However, all of those tourists did bring in more than 56 Billion Pesos in revenue, so the island was now a turnstile of commercialism – and the beach and the water suffered, growing noticeably more spoiled and polluted every time I visited.

I still soaked up the sun and wallowed in the waves for a few days but, longing for the Boracay of yesteryear, I started researching the culture and history of the island, too. To learn a little bit about what I discovered, check out these 50 facts about Boracay.

This year, I’m living not so far off in Dumaguete, but had no intention of returning to Boracay until…

June/July/August? 2018

My bond with Boracay just took an unexpected turn.

Even as the island is sealed off to tourism, they are allowing a small number of media to visit, documenting the story of its closure and environmental rehabilitation. Today, I received an email that my request for a media credential was approved by the Department of Tourism.

As a hobby, I write a weekly column for the humble hometown paper here in Dumaguete, the Metro Post. Evidently, that was enough for them to grant me a media pass to visit the island – one of a handful of non-Filipinos who will be allowed on Boracay over the next few months (together with representatives from the BBC, the Philippines Information Agency, and others).

I’ve been instructed to fly to Makati (the business center of the capital city, Manila) to pick up my press pass ASAP, and then make arrangements to go stay there, where only a few businesses, hotels, and restaurants are still open, I hear.

I’ve enlisted my dear, old friend, Hayden, who is an accomplished and trusted tour guide there, to help me arrange interviews with locals, business owners, and government officials.

What will I see when I get there? What stores does Boracay have to tell? What will the future hold for the world’s best island, which was a victim of its own popularity?

I look forward to finding out – and sharing those answers with you.

-Norm :-)