Settling into Dumaguete

Asia works harder

I’m writing from the southeast corner of the Silliman University campus, across from a bustling team of steelworkers putting up a 4-story structure across the street. That reminded me to make note of another big difference between Asia and the USA, one which I first learned about as a contract employee at DEC (the computer company) back in 1993: all, not just some, major construction projects operate far more than 40 hours per week. Here they seem to run 2 shifts each day except Sunday. I worked at DEC in the early 1980s when they built a plant in Colorado that cost, oh, a hundred million plus and took 3 years to get running. In 1993, a coworker in management presented a slide show of his trip to Penang, Malaysia, with images of a vacant lot and adjacent office-park buildings of other Western companies. He and other managers promised we’d have a 600,000 square foot building running in 7 months at a cost of US$15 million – I thought no way – but by June 1994 they were indeed producing hard drives in that plant. Saws are spinning, welders’ sparks are flying from multiple points across the street every time I glance up now at 8pm on a warm February Monday.This morning Luis was glancing at CNN-World on cable and I noted a story about mass transit being proposed somewhere. The reporter interviewed some locals, they were mostly opposed. Two reasons: mass transit doesn’t go when you want, and it stops earlier than you want. In the background was an image of traffic very much like what we see here in Dumaguete: jeepneys and tuktuks. Growing up in the USA, it’s hard to comprehend until you actually live it here. You don’t need a car here unless you carry a lot of stuff all the time. (Even if you need to carry stuff, you can cheaply have it couriered instead of carrying it yourself.) I’m telling you, the economics of these places are just plain dramatically different! Put your hand out at virtually any hour of day, on virtually any street and within seconds you will have an eager driver pull out of the constant-flowing stream ready to take you wherever you want – direct, point-to-point – at a cost perhaps a tenth of a mass-transit fare (whether in the USA or installed here at a place like this). An informal taxi system like this is dirty, noisy, and won’t scale to the needs of some big cities – but it gives this Navy brat some food for thought as to what the public-spending priorities of a small city should be.

It would never work in America. Why not? I can spell out the difference between America and the developing world in one word: insurance. All the liability, medical, housing and other forms of insurance that we feel the need to carry in the USA basically doesn’t exist here. Perhaps this lack does impose hardship on those who are victims in a place like this, but the overall social cost of insurance in the USA is immense and growing. Everything we do in the USA carries a cost, typically several times the actual underlying cost, that can be directly attributed to insurance. I’ll skip the analytical details but ask this simple question: if I take a taxi in the same Toyota 4-door vehicle here, running on the same $2.50/gal gasoline as anywhere else, how come the fare for a 10km trip is 75 pesos ($1.60) here instead of $20 back at home? We’re looking at something that goes way beyond a simple currency exchange rate.

So much for economics. We had a simple day today: one excursion and then a long nap. The excursion took us to what is probably the most remote spot of the whole trip, a twin-lakes natural park situated 14km off the main highway to the north of here. We took a jeepney (most of the ones here look more like modified vans, holding just 12 passengers in back plus one in front, vs. the bigger elaborately-decorated ones of Manila and Cebu) to a turnoff 12km north of town. (Dumaguete is a mid-size town of 102,000, dominated by campuses of Silliman University and Negros Oriental State University.) A man jumped into the jeepney one stop after me, cradling and caressing his cock in his big, gentle hands. It kept crowing every few minutes. (What kind of cock did you think I was talking about?!?) At the turnoff we paid our 12 pesos fare, and hired a motorcycle guy to take us up to the park. The road is mostly paved, just a half-dozen dirt section; it takes you up to elevation 2900 feet. Park admission is 10 pesos for “locals” (including balikbayans) and 100 for foreigners (unfair? perhaps–think about those taxi surcharges we hit people with coming from Logan Airport).

At the park we were introduced a species that I’ve begun to call (fondly, of course) predatious boatmen. Quoted a price of 250 pesos (on top of the 400 we’d agreed to pay our driver), we said sure, we’d like to take a ride out on the lake.

Business accomplished, we were treated to one of the most serene, pastoral views of untrammeled nature that I’ve ever seen. Very little of the forest cover on the island of Negros dates back to primitive times, but much of the forest in this particular place is indeed primitive. Our driver pointed out where a few natives had been relocated away from the park (houses still being reconstructed, the park itself appears to date back to recent years). In fact our driver also pointed out one other major factor in the Negros tourism business: rebel guerillas had controlled some areas here as recently as 1994. So it’s only been safe for tourists for a bit over a decade, and developers have yet to build any major resorts.

Locals continue to say hello and make eye contact. I have a big language barrier and even Luis has some issues because some people only have limited Tagalog ability. But like everywhere else in the Philippines, most signage is printed in English and most businesses employ people with fluent English.

We saw an ad for a hotel chain called Shangri-La or something like that on TV last night that made us think about how much we prefer to interact with the locals wherever we go rather than cocooning ourselves in the isolated shelter of big corporate resort operations. How lucky we are to be able to settle into a place like Dumaguete, even if only for a few days!

Those smiles and, shall I say, furtive glances just pull you into a whole different attitude toward life!


Cebu and Dumaguete

Feb 25 – We’re not home to host the annual Oscar night bash, alas. But I’m thinking of y’all back home in Boston!

This morning we boarded a bus from Cebu City to Dumaguete, a ride of about 100km including a ferry hop of 8km from the island of Cebu to that of Negros. Luis didn’t warn me about those bus drivers! Fortunately we were seated close to the back of the bus, so I could see my life flashing by before my eyes. But I could see the red-shifted blur out the side window as we sped through the countryside, barreling past everything from tuk-tuks to other buses at speeds (registered on my handheld GPS) of 90 to 105kph on a narrow undivided winding road of the sort where a State-side traffic cop would cite you for doing 50mph. Well I must still be alive because you’re reading this now.

Luis likes Dumaguete best of all the places we’ve seen so far! I attribute that to the cooler weather, it’s a picture-perfect tropical beachside community with temperature around 80F. I’m writing this at 8:30pm with three San Miguels and a Chinese meal of fish and bitter-melon veggies in me. We’ve strolled the length of the beach, and about half the guys along the beach made eye contact and smiled or said hello to me. An amazingly friendly place! I’m among very few white people here, I’ve seen maybe a half-dozen, virtually all considerably older than me. Presumably there are many Koreans mixed in with the weekend Filipino crowd. The boardwalk is lovely and active with (straight) couples out strolling; we watched the evening lighting come on, and Luis was intrigued with the guitar motif sprinkled through the trees.

Last night we tried to link up with a friend of a friend in Cebu City but that person changed plans. We opted to go to a movie house, which was an experience in itself. (A film I’d read about, Troika, had just opened a couple weeks ago. We noticed it showing as we rode our taxi into town, I’d marked the location in my GPS so we went back in the evening. Our Lonely Planet guide pointed out that this part of town is one where many locals don’t go, there is a big difference between downtown and the uptown location where our lodging was.)

When we checked in early at the hotel (Jasmine Pension) at Cebu, we were brought to a very small, dark room. I drew the line at this and asked that we switch to another room. It was literally like night and day: the desk clerk pointed out that a better room would cost another (whopping) 70 pesos, but wow what a difference it was! We got an airy 2nd floor room with a big window and double beds. Decided on the spot to use that same hotel when we return to Cebu on Wednesday!

Also in Cebu we took a jeepney out toward the Taoist Temple. I say toward because we wound up at least a kilometer away. There are no public buses in Cebu, only taxicabs, tricycles, motorcycles and jeepneys. The jeepneys operate on fixed routes and you have to get in the right one. You just hop on, then get off at or close to your destination, and pay an attendant or the driver the city-regulated fare of 6 pesos. (A tad over 12 cents at today’s exchange rate, peso is gaining on the dollar as I write this.) The Taoist Temple at sunset is a charming place. (Also charming was the 20-ish guy who kept staring and smiling at me whenever I glanced his way…;-) But we made this trip in the wrong sequence vs. another trip: the Buddhist temples of Japan have remarkably detailed craftsmanship so I had to put aside my criticism of the carpentry.

Luis and I got into a cute squabble afterward, when I put too much reliance into my techno-geek gadgetry and jumped off the jeepney too early. The return route was very different from the one we’d taken out to the temple. Fortunately, my mistake only cost us a dozen pesos (to catch a second jeepney) and a relentless tongue-lashing from Luis. wink

We’re going to a national park tomorrow, wistfully thinking about the Oscars on American television at the same hour.


The geographic peculiarity of an archipelago

In noncontiguous Philippines, water rules.

At some point during our 24-hour stay in Cebu City, I realized that in my 20 years in the Philippines, I set foot only on a number of islands that I could count with one hand–Luzon, the island where I was born and grew up, Corregidor, and one of the Hundred Islands, whose name I never recorded in memory. I never went to Talim island, smack in the middle of Laguna de Bay, or either one of two prominent volcanic islands in the Taal caldera.Yet in the fewer years that I lived in the United States I had been to more islands, including one of the San Juan Islands of Washington state, Alcatraz, Angel, and Yerba Buena/Treasure islands in San Francisco Bay, Key West, Manhattan in New York City, Block Island, and Martha’s Vineyard and Nantucket off Cape Cod.

What really strikes me while traveling in the Philippines is the primacy of water and the noncontiguous nature of the Philippines–what the United States have in sheer size the Philippines has in physical disjointedness. It is no small feat that a national identity crystallized among the inhabitants of thousands of islands, and, if Spain was partly responsible for inculcating this identity, it was indeed a formidable task. And no wonder it took centuries to form a Filipino identity.

Historical considerations aside, the archipelago is geographically breathtaking. As the plane took off from Manila en route to Bohol, Laguna de Bay and Taal Lake were both visible on one side. Not long after, Mayon Volcano loomed in the distance to the east as we were flying over Masbate. Bohol’s lush green was refreshing after spending a few days in the urban grit of Metro Manila.

Sailing off to Balicasag Island from Panglao Island, the view opens to the seeming infinity of Bohol Sea, where beyond the horizon lie Camiguin and Mindanao. Towards the southwest, Siquijor looms with commanding presence, and beyond was Negros with much higher mountains. To the west and northwest, Cebu heralds itself with an almost endless rugged spine. Bohol cannot be outdone–the mountains of Maribujoc have a certain prominence.

Cebu Island rules the horizon as we sail off the following day from Tagbilaran to Cebu, but Bohol frames the view to the east. A landless gap to the north-northeast marks Camotes Sea. After almost two hours, the mountainous spine of Cebu Island is seen as defining the western margin of the Cebu metropolis. This dramatic location can easily strike anyone approaching the big city by sea.

The coastal road between Argao and Bato is said to be one of the most beautiful stretches of coast in the Philippines. Surely this sunblest region was scenic, but the kamikaze driver of the Ceres Bus which we were riding going to Dumaguete kept me from enjoying the view without thinking of impending death! I dozed off partly as we approached the southern tip of Cebu, but the magnificent view I woke up to was unforgettable. Towering, cloud-shrouded mountains defined southern Negros Island–the landscape could have been Hawaii or even British Columbia! The mountains rise above Tanon Strait to an awesome scale. Although the distance between Bato, Cebu and Tampi, Negros Oriental is comparable to that between Woods Hole and Martha’s Vineyard, the mano-a-mano topographic drama of Cebu and Negros Island over deep and voluminous Tanon Strait is a winner in taking one’s breath away!


Friday in Bohol

The island natives are good-looking and friendly!

We just got back from a long bus ride to the interior of Bohol, a biggish island (probably 200km across), where we saw a place called Chocolate Hills. The place is so-named because the geological formations look like truffles scattered across the plain. It’s a beautiful spot, but as the most-famous tourist attraction on the island, the amenities are surprisingly spartan given how far you have to travel to reach it from Loboc or Tagbilaran City. I was hoping at least for a hiking trail but encountered instead just a TCA (tourist containment area) designed for busloads of people to march up to the top of a hill, ring a bell, take pictures and go. We sought a restaurant but found only a snack bar. So we came back here to the Island City Mall, grabbed some KFC and headed for the Netopia center where I’m typing this now. Luis wants to see a movie; while he’s doing that I plan to take a random walk in the direction of our hotel (3km).Last night we had an encounter that I consider the epitome of native hospitality. Luis and I went for a walk to take some beachfront pictures at sunset; almost immediately, a local made eye contact with me and invited me to come over to the bar. He introduced me to a half-dozen friends and served me a coconut-based wine; I begged off for 15 minutes, explaining that I wanted to join Luis for the sunset. Then I returned to the table with Luis and we socialized for 90 minutes or so, until darkness fell. The personalities of the guys were quite varied. Their native tongue is Bisaya but most of them could communicate with Luis in Tagalog; two of them knew a little English. The quiet 25-year-old kid next to me was flirting with me with his hands under the table, and the first guy who invited me over attempted 3 times to get me to leave the group to spend time with him. This led to my possibly-faulty presumption that we’d run into a local group of baklas (gays) (bayot in Bisaya). What was truly funny to me was that Luis’ impression of them, based mainly on unkempt personal appearance, was that they were “thugs” (my closest approximation of the Tagalog word Luis used). I had to laugh because these were, to my mind, quite gentle souls from whom I sensed no danger.

Before our evening hour with that group (I got together with a couple of them later on, just had a beer with the one who had spent 6 years as a seaman, mostly serving in the Persion Gulf area around Iran), we spent the day with our driver Emil. He took us to see two of the places where tarsiers are on display. We also stopped by two churches. At one of the church grounds, I had a rather surreal experience: four boys between 4 and 6 years old approached us, literally wearing nothing but shirts. One of them had learned hand reflexology and gave me a seemingly-professional massage to both of my hands, using all the regular techniques. Kid must be 5, it was just totally bizarre, he was quite strong despite the tiny size of his fingers. We gave them some coins and went on our way.

How did we wind up with a “driver” of our own, you may ask? Well, it wasn’t really something we intended or read in the guide book, but the cell phone is at the heart of it. This is something I suggest to anyone who likes to travel. In the USA, taxicabs are outrageously expensive. When you travel, expect to spend $1 to $5 for a typical cab ride; that’s been the price everywhere I’ve gone the past few years. Except here, where it’s about 6 to 75 pesos (12 cents to $1.50, usually on the low end of that range). What we wound up doing on our first couple trips starting with arriving at the airport here at Tagbilaran City was to take down the cell phone numbers of the first couple of cab rides (most of the “cabs” here are tricycles–a motorcycle with side car). We decided which one we liked and hired him for the day next day. Made the “mistake” of not negotiating a price ahead of time, but we’d been a good judge of character: he let us set whatever price we wanted. He took his own judgment of us first thing in the morning: prompted us whether to buy a full tank of gas (10 liters). We wound up giving him lunch and another 350 pesos for about 7 hours of driving for us. He showed up very promptly to pick us up again this morning, this time just to drop us at a bus station.

We bought a ticket for the 7:30am ferry to Cebu tomorrow.

Note: We have been taking photos all along and have the ability to insert them here, but the process is too painful given the slow PCs, slow uploads and lack of file-management tools on most public Internet PCs.


Wednesday at Alona Beach

Globalization’s reach is limited

21 Feb – Today we began our excursions into the provinces. I am writing this on a computer attached to the Internet, of course, a few blocks from the Dunkin Donuts where we had coffee and the Jollibee (mega-corporate burger joint) where we had supper; and of course always within range of a cell-phone tower. But those outposts of modern globalization have not (yet) displaced all the variety of human life. This is, in a nutshell, why I like to travel and why it feels necessary to go so many timezones away from home when I do.

Alona Beach is about as remote a place as I’ve ever been. It lies about 9 degrees above the equator, a bit over 600km south of Manila. I’m writing this in a town called Tagbilaran City, from which we caught a bus this morning to reach the beach. I commented to Luis at dinner that the human genome here is especially nice: the place is full of really cute local guys (and women too!) They speak a different dialect here but they also learn English and Tagalog in school, so it’s not hard to communicate.

One thing which struck me along the way back from Alona Beach was the local architecture. Whether the houses were shanties or villas as we drove by, they were all different. I’m so used to seeing a limited range of styles, caused either by the vastness of whatever construction company built them cookie-cutter style or by the tendency of home buyers to buy only whatever’s trendy during the decade or two that a neighborhood was built. Alas our ride was too bumpy to capture any of this with my camcorder, so I wanted to note this memory here. One style that I did notice repeatedly was a particular type of coarse-woven bamboo installed in square grids (2 feet or so on a side) on many of the exterior walls.

Thought I’d write up some of the social customs in the Philippines that are different from my past experience…

  • Women, while they are not considered 2nd class in any meaningful way, are segregated from men in various places that seem surprising to one who has grown up with the American feminist movement.
  • Armed guards are basically everywhere, and the people I’ve asked can’t remember a time when they weren’t.
  • It’s fairly hard to bargain with vendors; this is like America where no one negotiates prices for small-ticket items but unlike everywhere else I’ve been where the asking price is virtually never the actual price paid. (Don’t believe your guidebook, either; asking prices are generally higher than the ones you read. You will burn pesos here about as fast as you do at home–this is not Thailand–some things are inexpensive but most things aren’t.)
  • At the table in a restaurant or bar, the check will not come until you explicitly ask for it at the end of your meal.
  • If you pay by credit card, you’ll get whacked with at least a 5% charge, if not a 10% charge, credit-card company (and Philippine government) policies be damned. ATMs are ubiquitous and all are on Cirrus/Plus networks so leave your Amex at home, just pay cash for everything (including plane tickets, hotel rooms, and nights out).
  • SMS text messaging costs about ½0th as much as in the USA, so Filipinos prefer to text you on their cell phone. In fact virtually every driver, and of course every social contact, wants us to have his cell number (they’ll type it right into your phone’s address book). When traveling here (or indeed most places I’ve been outside the USA) it’s essential to have a cell phone with a local number for this reason; despite the fact that cell phones have been widespread for only about 15 years, this is an aspect of life that has reached more people than any other innovation since I was born. Expect many text messages each day, and expect to see even the fairly destitute local kids to be quietly texting each other all day. (The teenaged assistant on our boat ride today was doing this out in the middle of the sea…) It’s not like this in America, where everyone talks on the phone, loudly and in public.

Well that’s it from Tagbilaran for now. We plan 3 nights here before moving on.


Tuesday in Malate

Feb 20 – Well good morning from Malate! Yesterday was our latest night out so far. A friend took us out to a hustler bar–we got separated from far too many pesos–where I chatted with a group of Lufthansa aircraft mechanics for a while, talking shop because for years in the 1980s-90s I was an aviation engineer. A group of 6 go-go boys did an energetic dance routine several times (far better than most go-go dancers but not as talented as the amazing high-school troup we saw at the reunion Saturday).

Monday also featured a trip to the Mall of Asia, which goes on without end. I was malled-out after the first aisle! Luis got some music CDs and a replacement for a misplaced battery charger. (My IEEE hackles get raised every time I fume about the lack of standards in battery technology, every device requires its own easily-lost wall-wart …grr… why doesn’t the Institute use its clout to force manufacturers into a standard charger? I dropped my membership just recently after 20 years. Well enough geek-speak.)

Our visit to University of Santo Tomas was highlighted by the most grand vista of Manila! Ang ganda! The campus is dominated by a 100-foot tower, above a 1927-vintage building used in WW-II to intern thousands of American POWs. The building was restored after the war to its original use, a home for administrative bureaucracy and a college of science. After being treated to some of the bureaucracy (Luis can proudly display his badge of honor, an alumni ID card), we were taken to the roof in a vintage elevator. It was the clearest day yet! We have many pictures of the burgeoning skyline.

This city is clearly in the midst of as much of a condo-mania construction boom as any city back in the States. Luis’ realtor friend John tried to sell us on an “investment” in these condos, he is sales agent for one of the new skyscrapers. Foreigners are being encouraged to purchase property here. I am considering Philippines as a possible eventual retirement home but would have to know a lot more about real estate here before contemplating such a commitment.

In the local news has been a heart-rending story about the fate of 17,000 Filipino nursing graduates whose class year (they use the term “batch” to refer to a graduating class) has been impacted by a cheating scandal. As many as 10% of those who took the international-accreditation exam had access to advance copies of the exam materials. The other 90% are being told that their working visas cannot be approved without re-taking the test. And Supreme Court of the Philippines has ruled only that a fraction of the graduates should re-take the test. How this will play out, I don’t know, but it’s destroying many careers of innocent hard-working people.

Today is a low-key day here in Malate. We plan to watch the sunset over Manila Bay, and then meet up with a local leader of Long Yang Club.

Bukas (tomorrow) in the early morning we begin our excursions, starting with a flight to the town of Tagbilaran on island of Bohol. That’s all for now!


First Impressions of Philippines

Why didn’t we come here a long time ago?

It’s Day 5 of our trip already! The jet lag is finally dissipating but we still wake up way too early most days.The people here have a well-earned reputation for friendliness. They smile, make eye contact and make a genuine effort most of the time to help if you have a question. But of course Manila is a world-class, huge city with many of the problems of any huge city anywhere. Mostly, it’s big and chaotic – it took a couple hours to find an airline ticket office the day before yesterday – we had to ask at about 5 other ticket offices before we could find anyone who knew where the United office had moved in recent months.

Yesterday we went down to Paranaque where some of Luis’ relatives live. We got to see the humble childhood abode of our brother-in-law Carlos, with its nice gardens and barking dogs, and the relatively upscale remodeled home where great-aunt Purita lives with her family. The flavor of the neighborhood is very friendly; a thatched gazebo sits in a vacant lot next door, and serves as a hangout and meeting point for the neighbors to drop by.

Today is less humid than yesterday. I love the warmth here, though I don’t love the dress code: Filipino men dress the way tropical men do everywhere I’ve been outside the USA, in long pants and short-sleeve shirts. I am writing this in a busy Internet cafe where there are several other white guys, some in shorts and some in long pants. We stand out in our shorts; I bought a pair of locally-made jeans the first day but can’t abide wearing them during the day. When we’re wandering around, we don’t see too many American-looking people. We’ve noticed a fairly big presence of Koreans.

One of the other big impressions I’ve gotten here is the presence of armed guards, working for private security companies, at virtually every business. The only time I have been confronted by one was this morning, when Luis and I were doing our morning exercise in the hotel’s 39-story stairwell. We took a break on the roof deck, and a guard menaced us with his rifle while politely pointing out that this area is considered private (it was unlocked and had no signage pointing this out, so I shrugged it off). The BSA Tower is not a place I would recommend staying unless you want to be in this specific neighborhood locale, which is a convenient urban location attached to the huge Greenbelt mall complex. It has no lobby or other common space at all, and they penny-pinch on everything (to the point of shutting down one of the 3 elevators most of the time to save on electricity–a big inconvenience in such a tall building). But the rooms are quite large so you can more or less ignore the things that don’t work (like the door lock to our balcony).

I made eye contact with a guy at the next table during our merienda three days ago; he left a note with his mobile number on it so I struck up a cell-phone text message conversation with him. I think Luis has probably already written up the story of our later encounter: a Valentine’s evening stroll along the Baywalk of Malate with Dondon and his two friends (he said one was a cousin).

Cell-phone texting is quite big here, as it is in other Asian countries. It’s priced cheaper than voice calling and everyone–even businesses like the travel agent that we used for a couple of our local plane tickets, and even in their ads and business cards–gravitates to it as a primary means of communication.

Well our hour here is up so I’ll write more another time!


Who said anything about the Philippines being a culinary desert??

Hungry? No problem. There’s good food everywhere in the Philippines!

Feb. 11 – Philippine Air Lines offered a choice of chicken or fish with noodles for hot meals. Well, it was obvious we were in the company of Filipinos, and fish, being an unusual choice, was no doubt going to be mine! The fish was prepared with a sweet-and-sour sauce, and the salad had an excellent sweet dressing–so very Filipino! We were close to landing when coffee was served. Thank God I couldn’t say no because their coffee turned out to be good! Next thing I knew everything was put away and we were on the solid land of Metro Manila, and there I was, back after 25 years!!!

IMG_1573[1].jpg

Yum at Jollibees!

Feb. 12 – Bansilog and instant Nescafe at BSA Tower for breakfast at 6:30 a.m.; cold coffee mocha at Old Manila coffee shop on De la Rosa street; snack of pili nuts and Royal True orange canned soda from Rustan’s minimart at Greenbelt Park; Max’s Fried Chicken (The House that Fried Chicken Built) for lunch, which comprised of lumpia ubod, half chicken, of course, and sago’t gulaman, and trying out some of Papa’s buko juice in the shell, and Rich’s chicken sisig; merienda of ube cake and trying out Edwin’s delicious mango cream cake at Red Ribbon; dinner at Via Mare, consisting of tokwa baboy as appetizer, a whole rellenong bangus with tomato sauce and green peas (deleesh), and pork binagoongan, which Rich surprisingly ordered and liked!

ph1_002.jpg

BSA Tower view over Makati City

Feb. 13 – Insomnia meal of piyaya and cold bottled water (around 4:30 am); tapsilog and instant Nescafe at BSA Tower for breakfast at 7 am; small capacoffee at McDonalds on Ayala Ave. near SGV; lunch at a newly opened Jollibee’s at TM Kalaw, consisting of double beef burger, fries, and Coke Light (my first time at Jollibee’s ever!); Coke Light pampalamig after our hot tour of Fort Santiago; refreshing halu-halo with a scoop each of melon ice cream and ube ice cream plus ube halaya and leche flan (downright good) at Chow King; dinner at Bacolod Chicken, comprised of bbq chicken leg with calamansi, toyo, and sili as sawsawan and a hearty broth of batchoy with noodles, along with garlic rice (omigosh), and trying out some of Papa and Edwin’s inihaw na pusit with white onions and tabang talangka rice, and oh yes, bottomless iced tea; cafe Americano al fresco at Segafredo’s with live music.Feb. 14 – Valentine’s Day – Tapsilog breakfast and ripe mango in hotel; second breakfast of good coffee and ensaymada at Seattle’s Best Coffee in Greenbelt; after errands to travel agency at Park Square, lunch at Sizzler Barbecue in Glorietta Food Court consisting of two skewers of bbq pork, egg drop soup, and inihaw tanigue with Coke Light; after errands to United Airlines, pampalamig of mango shake from Shoemart; MRT and LRT from Ayala Center to Pedro Gil stop via EDSA/Taft Ave junction (super siksikan at ingay but thank God the trains were airconditioned); pampalamig again of gulaman at Chow King; Baywalk and CCP/Folk Arts Theater area with lots of restaurants and bars with three 20-something guys, namely Dondon, Michael, and Ernesto; Valentine’s dinner with Rich at Max’s back at Ayala Center of pinakbet and Shanghai rice and buko pandan shake (sarap-sarap); Rich ordered pancit bihon.

Feb. 15 – Had our first uninterrupted sleep (8 hours!) since we arrived; SBC breakfast of coffee, adobo pandesal, and ensaymada (we really like their ensaymada); get-together with Mama Purita and the Cruz family at Greenheights, snacked on nilagang mani and Mountain Dew, and then a sumptuous lunch, which included tortang talong, stuffed bell peppers, kare-kare, kalabasa and gulay with gata, binagoongan, and last but not the least, Cathy Cruz-Borja’s ecstatic rellenong bangus, and dessert of “bottomless” ripe mangoes, lanzones, and leche flan (busog na busog); pasyal to BF Homes Pque to visit Carlos’s parents; an hour-long exploration of Fiesta Supermall at Alabang (just one of its many malls); the traditional Filipino-style food court was a feast to the eyes–and stomach (too full to sample any, unfortunately); merienda of more mangoes back at home; picture-taking at bahay kubo on the adjoining lot; Bien gave us a ride back to BSA, and inuman with him and Rich of San Miguel Beer regular and light.

Feb. 16 – Noticeably lower humidity today; climbing the stairs from 7th to 39th floor/roof desk with Rich as our first exercise of our trip so far; bibingka rice and pasteurized carabao’s milk at Papa’s room; second bkfst at DeliFrance of coffee and sardines omelet (yum); took care of the rest of our local flights and accommodations in Bohol and Dumaguete City with the Park Square travel agency; a different type of lunch (Japanese) at Yoshinoya (tonkatsu curry over rice and green iced tea [not green tea]); our second time at MRT/LRT to Quirino stop; took care of our accommodations at Malate; pampalamig of mango shake, then a light merienda of chicharon bituka in a semi-open hut-like kainan on Adriatico street and chat with friendly staff; river of humanity at National Bkstr and Robinson Plaza; crash of humanity as we got off the MRT train at Ayala Center; pampalamig of buko juice and buko shake at Buko Ni Fruitas at the SM Food Court; nap and took care of accommodations in the Visayas; snacked on garlic peanuts and dilis with Coke in hotel room; cab to Remedios Circle; bading standup comedy at The Library and pulutan of seafood gambas and lechon kawali washed down with San Mig; shiatsu massage at Sanctuario Spa until 2:45 and bottomless lemongrass tea courtesy of spa.

Feb. 17 – Bansilog and coffee at hotel room; dropped off dirty laundry at Lavandera Loca around the corner; second bkfst of ensaymada and coffee at SBC (our third time); lunch at Mangan in Glorietta Mall, which consisted of delicious lengua caldereta and garlic rice, while Rich ordered quail asado; stopped at Landmark (Rich bought belt); changed at hotel then ride with Joey to San Sebastian College for Alumni Homecoming; met John, Ogie, Byabya, Mitch, Val, Miss Permejo, Ms. Aliwalas (current principal), Dandoy, Franklin Manila, Peter Cuntapay, atbp.; Mass then beer then dinner of lengua, pancit, lumpia, atbp. and dessert of buko pandan salad; more beer; speeches and presentations; entertainment; chitchat; kodakan; rode in Mitch’s car with John, Byabya, Ludie (John’s alalay), and other guy; inuman and Chinese New Year kakanin at Dandoy’s house in Makati; back at hotel at 3:30; John and Ludie stayed over.

Feb. 18 – Kung hei fat choi! – Checked out of hotel; Starbucks and McDo rice burger with beef patty on the way to Tagaytay; kodakan at Taal Vista Hotel (formerly Taal Vista Lodge); lunch at Leslie’s of sizzling bulalo, prawns in aligi, spicy mussels with shrimp; bistek tagalog; hearty beef soup; watermelon shake (refreshing considering the heat in the bulwagan); kodakan at the lookover but Taal Lake was hazy; stopver at chapel and Calaruega; spectacular botanical garden and view of valley overlooking Batangas (ganda); senyorita bananas and espasol for merienda; picked up laundry and checked in at Rothman Hotel in Adriatico st.; dinner of sweet-and-sour lapu-lapu and pancit canton at Seafood Hot Pot on Mabini to the sound of firecrackers as the dragon stopped in front of the restaurant; 2-mile walk to Roxas Blvd. and Padre Faura then back to hotel.

Feb. 19 – Breakfast of coffee and Spanish torta at Figaro on MH Del Pilar; visited UST; signed up at Alumni Office in Main Bldg. and had special tour of the tower with views of the big metropolis with a skyline that I did not recognize (and the view was exceptionally clear that we could see the mountains of Rizal province); lunch of menudo, spaghetti, and rice at the Medicine Bldg. cafeteria before the tour; SM Mall of Asia and merienda of halu-halo at Tropical Hut in the Food Court; met John Ferrer; walked around the mall and looked at the bay after sunset; stopped at Books for Less; at Gerry’s Grill, dinner of sizzling sisig, sugba kilawin (grilled pork and raw fish ceviche), and grilled chicken on skewers, along with delicious crab fried rice, all washed down with green mango shake; viewed part of SSC video at hotel; to Big Papa in Pasay (the three of us).

Feb. 20 – Breakfast at Mocha Blends on Adriatico (corned beef and eggs, and coffee); for lunch it was Manager’s Special pizza for the two of us and a pitcher of lemon iced tea at Shakey’s, plus a garden salad for me, which was smothered in thousand island dressing; napped at hotel; Manila Bay sunset and chat with freshly arrived expat from Alameda, CA; met with Rai and Alan at Cafe Havana (their calamansi juice was excellent so I ordered two!); left our large luggage in the storage room of Rothman Hotel; sumptuous dinner at The Aristocrat, my choice being their classic barbecue chicken with java rice and achara plus a side order of dinuguan, all washed down with Sarsi Light (I could not tell any difference from regular Sarsi), while Rich ordered boneless bangus daing style with tortang talong; Rai and Alan made good dining company.

Feb. 21 – Cathy Cruz-Borja’s birthday – See ya Manila and hello Visayas! My first time to this region of the Philippines. Our island-hopping begins today. Early bkfst of siopao pork meatball with egg and coffee at Domestic Airport while waiting for our flight to Tagbilaran on Cebu Pacific airlines; mango juice drink served aboard; checked in at Hotel La Roca; tricycle to town then small bus to Panglao Island for Alona Beach; lunch of shrimp sinigang (made with kamias!), plain rice, and Coke Light at Trudi’s; photo ops at beach; merienda of banana split with choc, vanilla, and mango ice cream (Rich ordered mango daiquiri) at Lost Horizon; boat ride to and from Balicasag Island; tricycle back to Tagbilaran; dinner of pancit palabok and Sarsi at Jollibee’s; coffee and strawberry-filled donut at Dunkin Donuts.

Feb. 22 – Breakfast of longanisa, garlic rice, and two eggs and instant coffee at the poolside of Hotel La Roca; guided tricycle tour by our gracious friend Emily to Bo-ol, Baclayon, Alburquerque, Luboc (boat trip on the Luboc River to Tontonan Falls (or Pusay Falls), and Corelia (Tarsier Visitor Center); nice buffet lunch at riverside restaurant, highlights being escabeche tanigue and inihaw na pusit and luscious mango with bagoong; merienda of single-scoop ube ice cream halu-halo and ube buchi-buchi at Chow King in Island City Mall (also bought regular polvoron at Goldilocks); after shower in hotel, walked to Cainget Grilled Fish restaurant at waterfront; had kampayan of balahina (coconut liquor) mixed with Coke with locals; then Rich and I had wonderful dinner of grilled marlin steak with teriyaki sauce and chopsuey vegetables in oyster sauce and regular rice, all washed down with Coke at Cainget.

Feb. 23 – Breakfast of longanisa, garlic rice, and two eggs and instant coffee at same poolside as 2/22, but had mango, which I bought on Wed night in Tagbilaran, sliced by staff; Emil gave us ride to Dao Bus Terminal; took bus to Carmen; bought puto at Bilar poblacion; got off at Batuan for 1 km walk to Chocolate Hills overlook; light lunch (or snack) of tuna sandwich and Cali pineapple soda with Ramon and daddy (originally from Indiana) from Cebu; dozed off several times on bus ride back to Tagbilaran; second lunch of KFC chicken and spaghetti combination with Pepsi (good spaghetti!); got one-way tickets from Oceanjet for Cebu City for tomorrow; watched “Curse of the Golden Flower” (starring Gong Li and Chow Yun-Fat and directed by Zhang Yimou) by myself at the mall; cupacoffee at Bo’s also in mall; by tricycle picked up Rich at hotel and went to JJ Dimsum in CP Garcia Blvd. in Tagbilaran and had dinner of batchoy with noodles and fish filet in creamy corn sauce with rice washed down with iced tea.

Feb. 24 – Emil picked us up in his tricycle at 7 and made it to our OceanJet departure at 7:30 from Tagbilaran pier en route to Cebu City (had coffee in pier); hot instant noodle soup aboard ship; upon arrival in Cebu City, took taxi to Jasmine Pension House near Puente Osmena Circle; walked to Robinson’s then took jeepney to downtown to see Magellan’s Cross and Santo Nino Cathedral; snack of otap; lunch of kangkong with garlic sauce (like kangkong belachan) and yang chow fried rice at Chow King; stopped again at Robinson’s and did a little grocery shopping; bought lanzones at sidewalk; nap in hotel; snack of mahareal; took jeep to Taoist Temple in Beverly Hills; took jeep back to Osmena Blvd.; good cupacoffee at Bo’s along with strawberry muffin; took a little walk, then had buffet dinner at Joven’s Grill one block from Jasmine Pension House (dinner included fish, menudo, seaweed salad, lechon manok and fresh fruit); watched “Troika (Threesome)” at cinema in downtown and met Rio Abelanosa.

Feb. 25 – Breakfast of two cups of coffee and ensaymada at Bo’s (Rich had mango cake); left some of our stuff in pension house and brought the rest on our bus trip by Ceres (airconditioned) to Dumaguete; snack of chicharon and otap and bottled water in bus; kamikaze bus driver driving us crazy but the road was undoubtedly scenic between Argao and Bato; had paksiw with rice in carinderia at wharf; took 40-minute barge to Tampi, Negros Oriental, snacking on sweet oranges; walked from Ceres terminal to C&L Inn on Perdices st.; pampalamig of buko juice (sarap) during our walk; shower and nap; walked to Riza Blvd., a beautiful waterfront promenade facing Tanon Strait and Bohol Sea; snack of fishballs and fish tempura on a stick by the water; more walk, then dinner at Foon Loen (Chinese-Filipino) restaurant, consisting of shrimp ampalaya and sweet-sour fish filet and rice washed down with iced tea.

Feb. 26 – Breakfast of dried fish and egg with garlic rice and coffee at roof deck of C&L Inn; consulted with travel agency on Real St., had second cup of coffee and pork asado siopao at Goldilocks; jeepney to point between Sibulan and San Jose to hire hubel-hubel (our driver was Noel) to Twin Lakes National Park; boat ride with Gilbert on beautiful Lake Balisansayao and had snack near hut overlooking this lake and Lake Danao (snack consisted of pan de coco bought at small store off highway, Oishi shrimp crackers, hopia baboy from Goldilocks and bottled water); chat with Noel; more relaxing ride on hubel-hubel downhill; jeepney back to Dumaguete City; late lunch of spaghetti and plain hamburger washed down with Sarsi at Jollibee; long nap in hotel; walk through market and Negros Oriental State Univ. and Silliman Univ.; had merienda of cheese ice drop; hanged around at promenade; dinner of chicken inasal with achara and rice, and iced tea, at Jo’s Chicken Inato (Rich ordered chicken adobo and San Mig).

Feb. 27 – Breakfast of bansilog and instant coffee at roof deck of C&L House Inn; moved our stuff to Bethel House, where we left a couple of items; at the waterfront, Rich tried to change his return trip to U.S. on United Airlines; hailed a bus bound for Bacolod City (we were going to Bais City); snack of cheap (2 pesos each!) pastries and Royal Tru-Orange at Julie’s Bakeshop; asked help from tourism office in Bais; had lunch at market carinderia, consisting of beef with sabaw, pusit, and fried fish, with rice, of course; no available boats for whale-watching or sandbar-touring at the Barangay Kapinyahan wharf; took bus back to Dumaguete City; checked in at Bethel House; took slow and noisy and fully packed jeepney to Valencia; hubel-hubel to Casaroro Falls via Tejeros and Banica resort; accidentally touched the hot muffler with my right calf, burning my skin (ouch); descended the steps to the falls–this was one of the most beautiful falls I have ever seen, bar none; applied medicated cream on my injury courtesy of the fee collector and table placemat embroiderer; hanged out at store snacking on Julie’s Bakeshop pastries and Coke and talked to a German expat who has lived in the area for three years now and loves it; pedicab back to Dumaguete (jeepneys do not run at night); dinner at Coco Grande’s (we ordered Mexican dishes but with Filipino touch–I ordered beef picadillo and Mexican rice, along with mango daiquiri and calamansi juice; walked around downtown looking for pharmacy (nothing open at 9 pm), and our last evening walk at promenade.

Feb. 28 – Rich and I did approximately 1.7 mile run on Rizal Blvd. promenade (it was fun!); breakfast of tortang talong and fried rice with brewed and instant coffee and luscious mango at Cafe Philomena at Bethel House Inn; checked out; tricycle to Ceres Bus Terminal; regular Ceres bus back to Cebu; choppy Tanon Strait; lunch at carinderia at Bato port (isdang sinabaw, not quite paksiw or sinigang, and delicious fried chicken, with rice, and Sparkle soda) while chatting with Medical Mission Fil-Am doctors from San Diego; bus ride was uneventful, except for the usual kamikaze driver, the crowdedness, the open windows and constant cyclone of wind, and the urban pollution and grit of Cebu City (which would have been less felt in an airconditioned bus); cab back to Jasmine Pension House; Rich got some ointment cream for my burn injury and gauze pads; coffee at Bo’s; walked to Fuente Osmena; shopped at Robinson’s (travel bag and shirts, including Obra ni Juan [Rich really liked the shirt that Byabya Lim was wearing during our hs homecoming on 2/17}); spaghetti and chicken dinner at McDo; close-to-midnight snack of penoy and balot from the mambabalut at Jasmine Pension House.

Mar. 1 – Breakfast of brewed coffee and ensaymada (Rich had strawberry muffin) at Bo’s Coffee; checked out of Jasmine Pension House; taxi to Cebu/Mactan Airport; SEAir to Caticlan; snacked on tuna skin chicarron and Mountain Dew before taking tricycle, ferry to Boracay Island, and tricycle to Orchid’s Resort with help of two staff; lunch of inihaw sugpo and sea bass with rice washed down with papaya shake and mineral water; walked lazily on the beach; boat ride with Bong and another guy around Boracay Island, which took about 90 minutes; snack of ampaw in hotel; took shower; beachside buffet dinner, which included bbq chicken, mussels, lumpia shanghai, spaghetti, and chicken pineapple rice, and dessert of senorita banana and pineapple slices; walked along beach and checked out the entertainment and looked for ATMs; had mango slush; later had cocktail of vodka and pineapple juice at Nigi Nigi Noos bar.

Mar. 2 – Breakfast of longganisa, eggs, and fried rice at courtyard of Orchids Resort with members and chapter leader of Rotary Club; walk on beach heading south and ran into gay, mixed-race couple from Seattle (Filipino-American was raised Mormon in Manila then Salt Lake City); checked out of resort; had strawberry shake/slush in Awarma Hotel cafe while waiting for boatmen to return my sunglasses; had “special” boat ride from Boracay to Panay Island, courtesy of boaters Mark, Bong, Nonoy, and 17y.o. dude (all cousins) who also helped carry and load our luggage; tricycle ride to Caticlan airport; lunch at carinderia of embotido and batchoy with noodles and raw egg over rice; took earlier flight to Manila on SEAir; snack of Oishi multigrain crackers and water; arrived at domestic airport at 4:15 p.m.; Bien picked us up; sumptuous merienda at Greenheights (bread with balsamic vinegar, pastry from Julie’s Bakeshop, dates with cumin; slices of queso de bola; luscious kaimito (starapple) and mango, all washed down with iced Coke); Bien drove Rich and me to Malate via Macapagal and Roxas Blvd.; checked in at Malate Pensionne; hanged out at Cafe Havana over San Mig, grilled squid “stuffed” with salsa and achara on the side, chorizo pizza, calamansi juice, while listening to live Latin music; got luggage at Rothman Hotel lobby; said gbye to Bien; good night sleep despite all-night music from the street.

Mar. 3 – Sorted stuff to prepare luggage for my trip tomorrow; bkfst of French mushroom omelette and three cups of good coffee at Figaro; last-chance pasalubong shopping at wholesale handicraft store on Mabini at Malvar; lunch of dinuguan and plain rice with (over-sweet) sago’t gulaman at Aristocrat (where Dedeth and Bien joined us later); trip to Fair Valley subdivision where Bess lives (and now Papa, who is renting a unit two doors away from Bess); merienda of saging sabah and mango; Bebeth called from San Fernando, Pampanga; took pics with Bey and Papa; bittersweet goodbye to Papa; it rained for the first time since we arrived in Metro Manila; Eric gave Rich and me a ride to Mall of Asia; Rich and I bought barong talalog at Shoemart; dinner with Ogie and Byabya Lim at Gerry’s Grill, consisting of beef casserole, sugba kinilaw, sisig, baked scallops, tinomok, crispy tadyang, and kare-kare (daming pagkain!), needless to say, we did not finish our food, which was enough to feed twice the number in our group; Ogie gave me keepsake souvenirs; shared taxi with them, with Ogie getting off last.

Mar. 4 – My departure was not until 2:55, so I had the entire morning feeling quite relaxed; bkfst of asado roll (heated) and two cups of brewed coffee at Figaro; took taxi to Greenbelt; Bess was shopping for me at Rustan’s, the three of us had brunch at Via Mare (where Rich and I had our first dinner!), where I ordered pancit luglug and mais con hielo, followed by puto-bungbong, while Rich had bangus with rice (a large bangus that is) and Bess had tuyo flakes with egg and rice; John was late in joining us; said gbye to Bess; John joined Rich and me to new PAL terminal; Rich and I said goodbye alone (John took off earlier); after getting my return ticket reissued at PAL office; initial security; check-in; lining at the immigration department; second security; and enough time for buying a few more souvenirs and padalas, I was whisked off my native land on PAL bound for Hongkong, with tears in my eyes while eating merienda-cena (especially thinking of Papa) and gratefulness that I had a wonderful time, and, with the exception of my burn on my right leg from the hubel-hubel in Valencia, Negros Oriental (a small price for adventure), an absolutely safe balikbayan trip to the Land Where Asia Wears A Smile (All The Time)!


The Eastern Sierra revisited

What is it about this place that is so enrapturing, yet why do I seem to run out of words to describe how I feel when I am amidst it?

In awe of the Eastern Sierra

When I take friends to remote places, they often wonder about the local inhabitants—their livelihoods or whether they get bored, lonely, or disconnected.   They dread the car breaking down and having no help immediately at hand.   Instead I marvel at the light, the cast of colors, and the interplay of shadows, all of which seem to soften a landscape that advertises harshness yet belies a well-deserved richness.  I am awed by the power of space and distance.  I cannot deny the fear that is instilled in me, not by the prospect of breaking down or from isolation, but by the sheer breadth of landscape, both horizontal and vertical.  I am humbled by the magnitude of naked earth and its communion with the wide-open sky.

Fourteen years after my first visit to the Eastern Sierra, I am still in love with it.  The passage of time and the unfolding of various painful and joyful moments of my life have not diminished my fascination for this region, which by now has surely taken a permanent hold on my affections.  What is it about this place that is so enrapturing, yet why do I seem to run out of words to describe how I feel when I am amidst it?

Nineteen-ninety marked the moment of my first solo car trip that was considerably far from home.  It was intended to be a four-day weekend but was extended by another day.  I had planned my stopovers on a drive that went progressively south up to a point that I would have considered climactic.  My understanding was that the mountains got higher as one drove south, culminating in the highest point in the lower 48 states, Mount Whitney.  I intended this trip to validate my personal independence and to cast away doubts of emotional dependency on friends and people who had knowledge of this area from experience.  The notion of back-of-beyond of the Sierra Nevada was irresistible.  I had not been aware of the eastern quarter of California for almost a decade since my arrival to the state as an immigrant.  This was truly a frontier both geographical and personal.

Wherever I went the legendary light was my companion, my guide, and my comfort.  Just when a summer storm seemed never to abate, the sky opened up and revealed the towering peaks guarding the living sanctuary that was Mono Lake.  Peak after peak, one lake after another, a trail here and there, one type of vegetation after another, the panoply of landforms—it was sensory overload at its finest!  I listened to the landscape and its invitation for a short hike and was drawn by its photographic allure.  Not one moment was wasted for an enjoyable analysis of a newly discovered vacationland.  This was only possible for a trip that I myself could organize and execute.  Indeed it was a defining moment of my capacity for exploration.

Mounts Dana and Gibbs tower over Mono Lake as storm clouds clear

Perhaps nothing can rival the sight of an unbroken chain of mountain peaks that scrape the blue sky of eternity, whether in April, when the abundant snow softens the skyline, or in September, when rock against sky makes for a dramatic contrast.  What a pleasant surprise to see the Range of Light unfold beneath lower and humbler mountains as my partner Rich and I slowly approached the kingdom from Nevada in April of 2000.  The sweep of the  landscape as Long Valley yields to Owens Valley, flanked by the even more rugged southern Sierra, the White Mountains and the Inyo Range has become so familiar, yet ever still magical!  The sheer verticality of Lone Pine Peak and the Whitney Range over the Alabama Hills and Lone Pine—such whimsical canvas of gray-white, sky blue, reddish-brown, and various shades of green—never fails to cast its spell on me!  On a much smaller scale, there is always the welcome invitation from the quivering aspens in colors ranging from muted but refreshing greens in the summer to flashy and jubilant yellows in the autumn.  The reliable California sunshine tempers the cool crisp mountain air, and its reflection off the granite walls and surfaces is pure resplendence.

Soon I am to leave the kingdom of the Sierra again, but before the final disappearance, I look back and wonder at its dominating presence for several miles.  When the sight of the mountains retreat from distance, from darkness, and from immediate memory, powerful impressions remain.  I am in tune with the language of these great mountains.  The Sierra speaks a language and plays a music that is universal.  This is the language and music of the earth.  A language and music that need not be respoken and replayed, for it is simple.  It merely calls for respect for the earth, the prime giver of life and all its diversity.  The Sierra is the living embodiment of Mother Earth.

For the rest of my life, I will comfort my worries, my fears, and my anxieties with the knowledge and awareness of the wonders of the Sierra.  My failed attempt to set foot on the summit of Mt. Whitney in the late summer of this year has not diminished my awe and respect for this mountain and all the mountains above which it rules.  I would want to visit the Sierra again to recommune with this important source of my emotional and spiritual consolation.  It is with my connection to this beautiful manifestation of creation that I seal my ties to my origin as well as my ultimate destiny.

-Luis Fernández, 2004


Scene of a Most Beautiful Valley

This was no ordinary valley, and like Owens Valley in eastern California, I immediately became captive of its spell.

The valley of San Luis in south-central Colorado ranks as one of the most beautiful valleys in the American West. Classic in breadth of sky and earth, and almost ever-present is the quintessential Western light, the valley meets the visitor from northern New Mexico with surprising tenor. The Sangre de Cristo Mountains culminate in height around this valley (some peaks are more than 14,000 feet high), fringing it to the north and east, while the San Juan Mountains to the west impacts on the visitor with their majestic beginnings. This is where the Rio Grande, after running its initial course at the Rocky Mountains, meets the drier tablelands before its gradual but long descent along the north-south axis of New Mexico and its eventual, serpentine course on the Texas-Mexico border.

California_poppies.jpeg

California Scene

Driving up the valley from Taos, I was caught by the splendor of seemingly endless mountains and wide-open spaces bathed in midwinter light. In many a dreary, cold day in New England, I thought, I had dreamed of landscapes and distant places like this one that I was seeing now. At the juncture of Sierra Blanca, one of the towering giants of Sangre de Cristo, with the more northern peaks, we find the most curious geographical feature—an accumulation of sand over thousands of years at the foot of the mountains. The sand stretches over ten miles and at certain points is up to 700 feet high above the valley. Southwesterly winds from the valley blow the sand against the mountains, while northeasterly winds over the mountains keep the sand at bay. Tributaries of the Rio Grande and springs from the mountains seep beneath the sand and form a stable substrate flanking the eastern side of the dunes. The timing was perfect for exploring the Great Sand Dunes, not only because the day was about to be done, but also because the time of year probably saw the fewest of visitors.

Death_Valley_2000.jpg

Camp Site

Where else could we find, in the dead of winter, such a peculiar and breathtaking canvas of sand, scattered snow on sand, snowcapped peaks, a soft azure sky, and the warm consolation of many a Western twilight? This was no ordinary valley, and like Owens Valley in eastern California, I immediately became captive of its spell. I am bound to visit it again at some point, and I know that I will never tire of the valley’s endless possibilities for exploring and appreciating.


Copyright © 1996-2010 Dorland St.. All rights reserved.
iDream theme by Templates Next | Powered by WordPress