Yers, I did enjoy the match and I shd have liked the underdogs to win but Man Utd wdnt allow it.
Thanks for offering to be my navigator.
Yers, I did enjoy the match and I shd have liked the underdogs to win but Man Utd wdnt allow it.
Thanks for offering to be my navigator.
hi everyone! im new here. and i cant seem to post. can anyone please help me?
why do i have a restricted access?
You just did, but please post in the Introduction forum please.Originally Posted by psiador25
If you want your dreams to come true ...... first you have to wake up
Because you are new and could be a spammer, so we restrict you until you post more and contribute to the forum
If you want your dreams to come true ...... first you have to wake up
oh, i see. Thanks for your help.
Hi Johnnie.
Reference your (somewhat disparaging) comments about the older Western guys in Subic with their 'Oriental' much younger companions: These girls are either 'proper' girlfriends or local bargirls (prostitutes). Just study the behaviour to work out the relationship.
I sometimes was accompanied by my Filipina teenage step-daughter (or one or all of my other children) when in Subic. People sometimes jumped to conclusions when she and I were shopping for groceries there or in Angeles.
The girls arriving with their luggage may simply have been brought through from Angeles or Manila to accompany their 'customer' or boyfriend on holiday.
I very much doubt that the girl you referred to as 'under-age' in fact was (a very serious matter). As you know, Filipinas can look extremely young to our eyes, even though they probably are over 18 years of age, and indeed have to be to legally work in the girlie bars there.
No, I cannot help you but it may be some consolation to know that I am equally helpless but find help readily forthcoming. Keep trying: keep asking.
Thank you for your interesting response, Graham. What you say is absolutely true but I fancy that there is a recognisable truth in the picture I have drawn. As I said I was drawing attention to a minority in a quite satirical fashion though you may in consequence draw equally strong and unfavourable and possibly misplaced conclusions about me. Ah well, made you sit anyway!!Hi Johnnie.
Reference your (somewhat disparaging) comments about the older Western guys in Subic with their 'Oriental' much younger companions: These girls are either 'proper' girlfriends or local bargirls (prostitutes). Just study the behaviour to work out the relationship.
I sometimes was accompanied by my Filipina teenage step-daughter (or one or all of my other children) when in Subic. People sometimes jumped to conclusions when she and I were shopping for groceries there or in Angeles.
The girls arriving with their luggage may simply have been brought through from Angeles or Manila to accompany their 'customer' or boyfriend on holiday.
I very much doubt that the girl you referred to as 'under-age' in fact was (a very serious matter). As you know, Filipinas can look extremely young to our eyes, even though they probably are over 18 years of age, and indeed have to be to legally work in the girlie bars there.
In his post to me a couple of days ago Graham mentioned how Filipino women often look much younger than they really are. Well, I’d already mentioned that in A VIRGIN so I feel justified in posting the extract here.
In January 2011 we - Fay and I with Rody and Elma - spent a couple of days up at Subic and were sorry that we had planned to stay longer.
We'd no sooner set off for home than it was decided that we should call on Conching, Elma’s sister, and therefore another of Fay's nieces. She and her husband Lito (Carlito) are rice farmers near Gapan.
Lito is a little chap, in the early stages of Parkinson's, mild eyed and sweet smiling, and his English is very good. He tells me that this place is 'a place of solitude' and so it is, way out in the country. 'Welcome, uncle, to my home,' is his initial greeting. He is in his mid-sixties but is not embarrassed to address me by this title. Actually, the word always comes out here as 'unKELL' just as 'bottle' comes out 'boTTELL' and 'tricycle' as 'tricyKELL.'
Conching, the younger sister of Elma, is a very cheerful, good looking, noisy woman. who also calls me 'uncle.' Almost immediately she asks if I would like to sing. She has heard from Elma of my singing at the reunion but I decline.
They serve up juices and pizza and we sit in the porch of their one-storey farmhouse. A grandson and his fiancee unexpectedly turn up on a scooter but stay only long enough to be introduced and they take my hand in theirs and raise it to their brows in greeting and to receive my blessing. I love it when they do this.
Off they go and are then replaced by a healthy looking girl who comes out of the house and is introduced as Michelle. She is the daughter of the house. She too is blessed by me! It’s a great day for blessings.
I ask Michelle in my interested schoolmasterly voice - and I have a kindly understanding smile to accompany this voice - how she is getting on at school but she tells me that has already left. And then, as if she anticipated what I was going to say next, she says, 'I am the mother of three.'
She seems such a child to have such a brood already and I wonder if one or more of the village lads has been taking advantage of her innocence. I then learn that she is thirty-four! I cannot believe it. These women here, they look so young.
Meanwhile Fay and the others are talking the talk and there is there is a long session with frowns and serious face-pulling about a 'water pump.' (See how English creeps in quite naturally?) Rural concerns, eh? I don't recall ever before today, in all my long life, overhearing a discussion about water pumps.
It was decided that Conching and Lito would return with us for Conching's 'pasalubong.' Before we left, Michelle asked Fay about her 'pasalubong.' Conching then sidled up to me and suggested in as low a tone as she can manage - and this is difficult for her as she has a naturally strident voice - that I speak to Auntie about Michelle’s 'pasalubong' and giving the impression of a kindly old conspirator, I winked and promised to do so. After all, the interests of my newly found niece and great niece ought to be close to my heart. Of course I am new-fangled with this 'uncle' business. Neither Anne nor I had brothers or sisters and consequently I have reached the age of 82 before anyone has ever addressed me as 'uncle.'
At home Conching found a very nice white dress which once belonged to Fay and a handbag and she went off very pleased along with some gifts for Michelle too. I'd like to think that I wielded some little influence here.[/I]
More and more I enjoy these quiet, inconsequential meetings with naturally kindly people – not that they are saints – thank goodness for if they were I should find them too uncomfortable to live with. But they are considerate and unpretentious and I felt immediately at home with them. I imagine that many Europeans will have experienced similar feelings.
One thing I always looked forward to when I was in the Philippines was my morning walk. But I had to ensure that I got out before the sun became too hot. One morning I didn't...
I set off for my morning walk at 9.15, going this time away from the town. Nevertheless it's the same old busy road with some large houses interspersed with the usual little shops - London Store, Kevin’s Store, Chari’s Store and the little workshops, and all the houses, humble or otherwise, with iron railings and grilles at the windows and doors, often dressed over-all with lines of coloured laundry fluttering as if the occupants expected the imminent arrival the Admiral of the Fleet.
It’s quite a Spanish effect, all this ironwork, just as there is a Spanish influence in the language where I recognise almost like old friends any Spanish word that crops up. I think they must talk fairly precisely for me to pick up alien words among all the over-vowelled words they give out.
Tagalog does seem extremely difficult. Before I came away I made an effort to learn it but gave up in disgust - at myself. The words are so often very long and there's a constant barrage of vowel sounds. For instance, take 'Good morning' - ‘Magandang umaga’ - look all at the short vowels there. If you look at a sentence of the language as it’s written I swear that you'll find the letter 'a' forms at least 10 per cent of the text.
So back to my walk which today was in a new direction but still accompanied by the usual smiles and calls of ‘Where are you going?' I stop to tell them and they recognise 'walk' and 'exercise' but our conversations usually reach little further than that. When I call out 'Good morning' they always respond and it sounds, their 'Good mahning, po,' so musical. 'Po', by the way, is a word frequently used in formal situations as a sign of respect.
They seem fond of these distinctions, these marks of respect, though I suppose that it is not dissimilar to what the Germans, French, Italians and Spaniards do with their polite forms, their 'sie' and 'vous,' their 'Lei' and 'Usted', and so on. Fay refers to her older brother by the formal title 'Diko' and her elder sister as 'Diche' even though they have perfectly good Christian names. And Fay, like all oldish women, is referred to by the respectful 'Ate' (pronounced Atay).
What a number of diversions in this description of today's walk... it became extremely warm as I went along. Though it was relatively early, many people were in their backyards, playing very loud music on their wirelesses (yes, I know, I’m supposed to call them radios) or standing outside in the shade, looking at me with a kindly detached amusement - at least that is how I interpreted it. Perhaps they were saying something like, 'Why is that silly old fool walking when he can afford to hire a tricycle?'
But I was out to show that I was doing this for pleasure. It's what Englishmen do. We go for walks and put up with rain and wind and by Jove, we aren't beaten by excessively hot mornings like this, either. I was in my Alec Guinness/River Kwai mood, and despite the heat I was determined to keep up appearances for the sake of Queen and Country and so I raised my head, pulled my shoulders back, did my best with my stomach and raised my bamboo-cane walking stick in greeting as I strode on humming 'Colonel Bogey' and hoping that I shouldn't be forced to sit down to rest. But at last, running with sweat, I reached home where Josie made me a cup of tea. I really needed it. I'd put on a show and I hadn't let the Old Country down.
Colonel Bogey. Know it well...especially the trombone part.....aswell as Sussex by the Sea....
Or alternatively...
Funny what you say there Johnnie as I tend to think the language is overloaded with harsh consonants....but yes...a lot of use of the letter 'a'
Wonderful. I haven't seen that film for so many years but it's remarkable how the idea has stuck. Very many thanks for that. It's quite made my day.
Just have a glance at a paragraph of text in Tagalog. The vowels have it especially the 'a'.
I used to play in a brass band and often played this kind of thing for a bit of fun...
And Sussex by the Sea....
I reminded someone else about the line...
Where they're six feet tall
And know...very little as it turns out
I wouldn't have you think I'm an ill-tempered sort of chap. From time to time, it has been suggested that I am but it's just the fall of my face and what Nature and Time have done to its contours. No, I am normally really tolerant…to a fault, I might say.
But I must get my sleep and some nights here in the Philippines it's difficult. Take last night…
...an errant mosquito penetrated the defences of the netted doors and windows and bit me on the arm. It’s not the first bite I’ve suffered here and I have to say they are not as bad as some I’ve occasionally had in Europe. Even so, my legs at times have the dramatic effect of a Turner sunset and they itch like hell. I have been regularly using a spray on my legs and arms. It makes great claims, this stuff, to keeping mosquitoes at bay but apparently the mosquitoes cannot read. Certainly last night's couldn't.
But it’s the dogs who are the real menace with their incessant barking all night. They are all yard dogs. I don’t think they ever get into their owners' houses. They’re mostly lean and pale or gingery and they're content to walk along the roadside or along the middle of the road where they stop from time to time to scratch their fleas and lick their behinds in a world-weary sort of way. They manage to avoid cars with the slightest insouciant twitch of the hips and they’re away, escaping wheels and bumpers by a hair’s breadth. But it’s at night when they’re skulking round the home territory that they begin their constant yelps and screeches and barks. Then, just before dawn their shift ends and the cockerels start up.
These blasted birds continue for what seems an eternity. There’s only one which seems to merit an audition to introduce Pathe News (as was, but ask your Granny if you don't get the reference), only one out of what seems like hundreds who sounds at all in his right avian mind. So many of the others sound quite deranged, many as if they are suffering from a form of Tourette’s disease which obliges them to shriek at very short intervals the words 'Dirty .......s.' On and on it goes, the loonies echoing each other way down the road and God knows how far beyond but the sound comes doubling back so that I feel like shouting at them, 'Shut up, you silly buggers.' But I know what they’d say in reply.
I wonder if some of them aren’t punch-drunk veterans of the local cockpit. We saw some the other day being caged, jaunty enough looking chaps with fine handsomely coloured feathers and proud upstanding tails, but each one I suspect with a mad gleam in his eye and looking forward to the next championship bout. It wouldn't be surprising if they were unhinged. Their owners or trainers, for these birds are professional ring-craftsmen, cosset them like babies, stroking them, smoothing their feathers and generally pampering them. But they must - the birds, that is – be quite astonished when clouds of tobacco smoke are blown in their faces. This is said to made them mean-tempered, just what is thought to be necessary in a ring-ready bird. The ones that lose the fights return home oven-ready.
All of this nocturnal hubbub of dogs and cockerels, in this rural hideaway, is played out against a ceaseless background of traffic noise, particularly from motorcycles and tricycles tuned to sound sometimes like farting wasps. At other times huge lorries race down the road, sounding like Jumbo jets preparing to land just outside the front door.
This is in rural Luzon. If it were sprawling MetroManila I'd understand it but here we're in a land of beautiful trees, farms and rice fields of the most delicate shades of green. It would be heaven if it weren't for the night noise. And don't start me on when the women in the family get together talking. You'd think, they were calling to each other across great mountain valleys through loud hailers...
A VIRGIN IN THE PHILIPPINES by WH Johnson is now published as an e-book on Amazon. It will shortly appear on Smashwords.
Thanks for posting Johnnie...Your posts are certainly interesting & amusing, I shall definitely be adding the e-book to my collection
AN HAPPY WIFE IS A HAPPY LIFE
Thank you, Stevie, and please tell your friends and F/b if you will.
Even more surprising is the deafening cacophony of noise when spending the night out in the 'peace' of the mountain jungle, many miles from human habitation.
The sheer volume of sounds emitted by the thousands of tiny insects, frogs and other creatures of the night almost defies belief !
I am sure you could write a book GrahamEven more surprising is the deafening cacophony of noise when spending the night out in the 'peace' of the mountain jungle, many miles from human habitation.
The sheer volume of sounds emitted by the thousands of tiny insects, frogs and other creatures of the night almost defies belief !.....what would you call it?
No shortage of accompanying plates to go with it....I am sure you could write a book Graham
'An Idiot Abroad' ?
.
.
Oh, I think that's already been used.
‘You ought to do something about these emails,’ a friend emailed me when I was last in the Philippines. He’d received several emails from me, all about my visits there. And these were his first words, the first sentence of his reply.
‘Oh Lord,’ I thought. ‘Typical of him. Miserable so-and-so. I send him interesting emails about my trip and all he can come back with is that I ought to do something with them.’
Stop sending me this junk! he seemed to be saying. Burn the things! Give us a rest from your ceaseless drivel.
I didn’t expect any more from him. He’s no judge of anybody’s writing. You can see his lips moving when he reads.
Anyway, I steeled myself to read the rest of his ungenerous thoughts. Trust a friend to stab you in the back.
‘I think you ought to collect all of these pieces and make them into a book,’ he continued.
What?
I had to read the sentence again. Was he actually suggesting there was some merit in what I’d been writing to him and other friends? Was this encouragement he was offering.
Well, he was an old friend, a trusted friend, a man whose opinion I valued greatly. And after all, if he thought, as he put it, that I ‘ought to do something about these emails’ and that I ‘ought to collect all of these pieces and make them into a book,’ that was really advice I ought to follow. I mean to say this chap knows a good book when he sees one. I couldn’t ignore what he said.
And that is what happened. I decided to publish my emails in ebook form in the quickest possible way because at my age you don’t hang around waiting for publishers to accept or reject your work.
I tarted up the text, got rid of some of the rougher edges, and then hunted for a professional local artist. At Cabanatuan I met Leonardo Malgapo who provided a cover and a dozen illustrations.
Johnnie, In the interests of fairness I've had to edit your links.
Could you please take a look here:-
http://filipinaroses.com/showthread....488#post349488
Okay, Terpe. I'll moderate my approach! I understand that there must be rules. I'm just a shade bemused by the fact that I cannot show my web address when it is already available under my name.
Thread moved to the "My blog" section of this forum as no longer appropriate in the introduction section.
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