On the plane to San Francisco
Wednesday 2/19/14

Singapore Airlines may be one of the world's top-class airlines  but they're rock bottom-class when it comes to accommodating disabilities.

They were great about meeting my Philippine Airlines flight when I arrived in Hong Kong from Manila,  getting my baggage sorted out and checked in, getting my paperwork  ready for my flight to San Francisco, and getting me  through all the security checkpoints.

My flight to San Francisco didn't leave for another five hours, and I asked if I would be waiting in one of the airline's lounges.  "Oh, no, those are only for business and first-class customers," I was told.  

Oh well, I thought, as long as I am somewhere safe and close to a restroom,  and can get help if I need it, I'll be OK.

I was wheeled to a remote corner of the terminal and parked behind some kind of counter next to loudspeakers blaring out announcements.  It was so loud my bones vibrated.  While my skull was buzzing from the loudspeakers, my skin and eyes were shriveling up in a strong cold draft blowing in from a door that I assume  was some sort of service access door opening out  to the  runway.   I was out of the direct path of people rushing  back and forth, but in the direct path of that cold wind.  I closed my eyes and braced myself for a few uncomfortable moments until we moved on.

Then the Singapore Airliens staff person helping me told me  that someone would come get me when it was time to board my flight.  I had to make her repeat this four times.  Twice because I couldn't hear her over the loudspeakers, and twice because I couldn't believe I heard her correctly. 

"Excuse me,"  I said.  "You are going away now and leaving me here alone for five hours until it is time to board my flight?"

"Don't worry," she said, "someone will come get you when it's time to board."

"In five hours.  My flight does not leave for five more hours,"  I reminded her.   "You are leaving me here alone, with no access to help, for five solid hours?"

"Well, someone will be here to help you when it is time to board," she said again.

"So who do I ask for help during the next five hours?  How do I even get anyone's attention in a place like this??"  I had to shout over the loudspeakers. "You realize I am almost totally blind and almost totally deaf in this noise--"  I was shouting even louder now to make myself heard -- "and how can I talk to anyone in a place like this???"  

She just looked at  me.   My anger was boiling now, and I had no trouble making myself heard over the loudspeakers.  "You are stranding me here  where I have no access to any help, I have no idea where I am, no idea where the restroom is, no idea even where the opposite wall is!??"

She put her hand on my arm and said, "Ma'am, please wait, I call my supervisor."

She walked off -- to a quieter spot where she could hear on her phone, I assume -- and left me there, stuck and fuming.  She was back in a couple minutes and said she was very sorry but she was not allowed to take me to the airline lounge because it was only for business and first-class customers.

 "Are you telling me that Singapore Airlines thinks it's OK to abandon one of their customers who  happens to be  deafblind  in a place like this with no help,  for five solid hours!!!?  I can't even get to the other side of this room without help, and I have no idea where the restroom is."

"Ma'am, I can get you to a restroom."

"Good," I said.  I really did need to get to one.   "Let's go."  It took more than five minutes to get there,  and  my anger boiled even more to realize they really were going to leave me stranded for five hours with no help or even a restroom within my reach.  The most reasonable thing to do would be to either put me in one of their lounges, where I would have been sefe and needed minimal help from their staff, or at the very least in a coffee shop where I could get to a restroom on my own and maybe have a cuppa while I waited.  

After I finished in the restroom and got back into the wheelchair,  I could tell she was headed back to the same awful drafty bone-buzzing corner.   I told her to stop.  "I will NOT go back there," I told her.  "You must take me somewhere safe."

She pulled into a gate waiting area that was not in use.  You could still hear all the airport noise, but it was calm and peaceful, and loudspeakers were not blaring right onto our ears.   

I turned to her. "Do you have any idea how bad this makes you look?  Singapore Airlines is so inhumane that you think it is OK to leave a deafblind woman stranded in a remote corner with no access to help, or even access to a restroom, for five  hours??  You guys are so stingy you won't put me in one of your lounges where you could leave me all day if you had to and I would  be safe with minimum effort and expense on your part??"

"Ma'am, I am sorry," she said, and put her hand on my arm.  "I understand, I really do."  And I think she did.  The poor girl was just following orders.  "Is this place OK?" she asked.

"This is fine," I said, "as long as I know where the restroom is so I can get to it.  And I need to know  where and how I can ask for help if I need it."

"I will stay with you until your flight," she said, and then asked me if I wanted to get something to eat.

I told her I wasn't planning on getting dinner at the airport because I would be fed on the plane, and anyway I didn't  have any Hong Kong dollars on me and didn't want to go  through the trouble of  changing any currency.  But I would like to refill my water bottle.     
She took it and brought if  back full, and said she had vouchers for dinner.   So I had dinner at the airport after all.  It was good, too.   I asked her to pick something out for me that she liked, and she brought me some kind of roasted pork with a spicy sauce, vegetables and rice.  There's nothing like a good meal and a couple nice hot cups of tea to mollify a mighty wrath, and even though I was -- and still am -- angry and disgusted with Singapore  Airlines, I appreciated how hard and sincerely the girl was trying to make things better for me.

Her name was Renee, and she was only 23 years old.  We had quite a nice chat over the next few hours until it was time for me to board.   "So you couldn't talk your bosses into letting me into one of the lounges but you got them to buy me dinner and mollify me, eh?" I asked her at one point.

"Well, yes," she admitted.

"Well, you did good," I told her.  "I'm still mad at your bosses, but not at you."

So now I'm on the plane about half-way to California and home.  And as my adventure draws to a close, the amazing thing to me is how things worked out so well even when -- especially when -- things seemed to go so wrong.   Singapore Airlines was unbelievably unreasonable and inhumane in their attitude toward my need for special help, but I still got all the help I needed. 

And somehow,  my encounters with all the special people who helped, from Mayu to  Mr. Amarasuriya and all the Lions, to Natalie and Renee and Prandy and his family, all add up to something much better and more important than if everything had gone just as I originally planned.

The Linden Suites, Manila, The Philippines 
Tuesday 2/18/14

A lovely last relaxed day in Manila before I head for home tomorrow.  I got to do the "Manila mega-mall" thing.  Prandy helped me with some final shopping,  and took me out for a Filipino pork and chicken adobo lunch. 

It's amazing what magic the simple combination of soy sauce, vinegar and garlic can do for pork and chicken.  The meat is stewed for a couple hours in the sauce, which cooks down to a nice gravy, and served over rice.   Prandy also ordered fresh green beans sautéed with slices of fresh coconut meat in a savory coconut milk sauce.  It was so good I had three helpings.

The leche flan was the best I've had here, too.  The classic leche flan is made with evaporated and condensed milk, egg yolks and sugar, and seved with a light caramel syrup, similar to a Mexican flan.  I think this version had fresh cream in it, and  just a touch of sesame flavor.  I polished it off in short order and  seriously considered getting a buco bandan dessert too, but my sanity returned just in time.

Prandy and Chiqui introduced me to buco bandan at lunch the day we visited the military cemetery.  It's made with cubes of very young coconut meat that is still more a gel than a firm nut meat, shreds of fresh firm coconut meat,  tapioca, cream and sugar, and served  chilled.   It's cool and refreshing with great textures.

I digress here for a mini-rant about automatic spell-checking and -correcting computers.  Every time I type "buco bandan" the damn computer changes it to "buck bandana" and f have to go back and correct it two or three times before I can make the "buco bandan" stick.   And "leche flan" turns into "lecher flan."  It's irritating as hell but it's also a hoot to see what the computer does with words it doesn't recognize.

Anyway, when I had my first buco bandan I also had my first dish of a traditional marinated, skewered and grilled pork.  (Pork is the main meat here, Prandy said, even more so than chicken.  Fish is more common than chicken, too, and beef is not common at all.)    The pork was wonderful, tender and bursting with juicy grilled flavor.   Chiqui said the popular marinade recipe uses 7-Up or Sprite, of all things, along with vinegar, ketchup, garlic, maybe some Tabasco, and salt and pepper.  I'll try making it at home.

Prandy got me a couple packages of  Filipino coffee to make at home, too.  They have wonderful coffee here.  I didn't know the Philippines grew such good coffee.   They brew the drink good and strong from fresh-roasted and fresh-ground beans.   It really is the best coffee I've ever tasted.  

The other wonderful taste of the day was a green mango shake, thanks to Prandy's daughter Chia, who wasn't able to join us today but told Prandy to tell me to try it.   It was tangy and slushy-cold and just the perfect thing for a hot day.

I enjoyed meeting  Chiqui and Prandy's kids earlier this week.   They're really not "kids" anymore;  their son Chino is in his early thirties and Chia is in her late twenties.  They are a close family and I really enjoyed meeting and visiting with them all together over dinner.   

Considering that I've pretty much eaten my way through south Asia for the last two and a half months, it's surprising that I've actually lost weight.  The clothes I brought with me are loose, and some of them were too snug for comfort when I left California.  I think with all the new environments,  and with pushing my vision, hearing and all my adaptive skill to the limit and beyond,  my body just needed more energy.

It's been a  relaxing visit here in Manila, mainly because Prandy and Chiqui have made it so easy and enjoyable for me, and my  hotel room is great.   I think also, it's relaxing to be in a culture that is good at relaxing.   The pace is slower. Even the rush-hour traffic jams are relaxed compared to the US and especially India.   Meals are relaxed and events to enjoy with family and friends;  They're numerous, too:  most days there's breakfast, snack, lunch, snack, dinner, and maybe supper after dinner if you get the late-evening munchies.  

After lunch Prandy took me up to the top level of the mall, where there are several salons offering massages, hair cuts and treatments, facials, manicures, pedicures, the like.  A manicure and pedicure AND a 45-minute leg and foot massage only costs about $12 or $13 USD, and an hour-long massage is about $10.  At that price I'd get a massage almost every  day, and Prandy said that's exactly what they do in Manila.  So I had a manicure, pedicure and leg and foot massage, and Prandy went to a salon a few doors down from mine for a back massage.  

 It was the perfect topper for my Manila mega-mall experience.  I'm not much into shopping malls, but I could definitely make this kind of "malling" a habit.

So now I'm relaxed and ready for the trip  home.   I've been catching up on sleep here.   In fact, I was shocked this morning when I woke up to find that  I'd slept eleven hours straight through.   It was  good that I did because my eyes needed the shut-down time to recuperate from all the dry eye pain, and tomorrow will be a long grueling day.  

From the time Prandy picks me up tomorrow to the time that I arrive in San Francisco, it will be more than twenty-four hours of traveling.

Woo hoo!!  I'm going home!

The Linden Suites, Manila, The Philippines 
Monday 2/17/14

I'm just back from meeting with the Philippine Resources for the Blind, Inc. (RBI).  They loved the two mirrors I brought to show them (Prandy's Gecko Mirror and the Mathru Mirror Judy bought), are interested in offering mosaics-as-marketable-craft-skill  training here, and I think if they can pull the funding together I'll be back to teach my mosaic technique  in the not-too-distant future.  

Their main focus is providing blind skills training to young children and support and encouragement for the parents to help pursue the same opportunities as for sighted children.  They also have adult clients dealing with progressive blindness from RP and other causes, and offer counseling, adaptive  skills training and employment rehabilitation.  That is the group of clients I'd be working with.

RBI is a non-denominational Christian program, and it turns out that some of the staff are members of Prandy's church.  He and Chiqui were constructive participants throughout our discussion, and we all felt it was a good meeting and worth the morning  rush-hour traffic hassle to get there.

Prandy and Chiqui  recently moved from Manila up to the  hills (Ortigas), about an hour away from my hotel.  The RBI office is only about 7 miles from my hotel but took us about an hour to get there.  Their drive back home after dropping me off won't take so long as this morning, but still, it was a lot of driving for them today. 

They've both been the most gracious hosts I could ever ask for, and I wish I'd made them two mosaic mirrors instead of just one.  I was glad to hand them the Gecko Mirror to take home after the meeting today.  I've had to work at saving it for them.  I used it as a  teaching example and demonstration piece in India, Hong Kong and here, and almost everyone who saw it would have liked to keep it.  In fact I suspect Muktha and the Mathru staff were a little disappointed they didn't get to keep it along with the other mosaics I brought from  home to give them.  

The same goes for the Mathru Mirror Judy bought.   I had a little panic moment today when one of the RBI staff said, "Oh this is lovely, thank you so much for giving us this sample to keep." 

I blurted out, "Oh no, no, I am so sorry,  but I only brought it to show you, not for you to keep!"  I explained that it had already been purchased by one of my friends and the only reason I had it to show them was that I was taking it home to deliver to her. 

New foods today:  a nice bottled grapefruit drink that was quite refreshing, a custard-filled soft bun that was pure comfort food, and some kind of seafood noodle dish I disremember the name of that was very tasty.   

The RBI staff brought in Kentucky Fried Chcken (yes!  shudder), sodas, and some traditional Filipino food for lunch during our meeting.   I ate one piece of the KFC, eschewed the gravy and macaroni salad, and savored the seafood noodle stuff.   The RBI folks seemed surprised that I liked it.  It had a strong fish sauce flavor, but I thought it was good,  way better than KFC macaroni salad.

It's flake-out agenda for the rest of the day.  First I'm going to take a nice long bubble bath, and then a nice short nap.  Then I'm going to treat myself to room service.  They make the most heavenly creme brûlée here.

The Linden Suites, Manila, The Philippines
Sunday 2/16/14

What a good  day, topped off by a surprise belated Valentine's present from Andy.  It was waiting for me at the front desk when I got back after the day with Prandy and Chiqui.  A big red bag full of a dozen little Filipino butter chiffon cakes.  Chiqui told me they are "very Filipino."  They sure are good.  They're a lot bigger than Andy thought they'd be, and I gave a bunch of them to Chiqui.  

She and Prandy gave me the grand tour today.  I couldn't see much in the museum but I saw enough to get the gist, and Prandy and Chiqui were great guides and descriptors.  I really got a sense of how the Philippines have been a crossroads for Asian trade.   China was sending merchant boats and trading here hundress of years before the Spaniards arrived.  

The aboriginal Filipinos were small and dark, with very kinkty hair. Prandy said some are still around in the more remote and isolated parts of the islands.  The Filipinos we know today are a  mix of all the peoples that have come through.  In fact, the Yulo family has a strong Chinese ancestry, Prandy said.

Gold is mined here, and the museum had a fascinating  collectuib if prehistoric gold pieces -- belts, earrings, amulets, crowns and diadems, and other pieces.   I was intrigued with the death masks:   gold covers for the eyes and mouth, and sometimes the nose,  too,  There  was even an entire shroud woven of solid gold thread. 

We drove past theaters and cultural centers that are the legacy of Imelda Marcos. Chiqui just called her "Imelda," and told me a little ghost story about one building that Imelda  wanted  to use as a Philippine version of the Cannes Film Festival, for all the world-famous movie stars.   In the rush to get construction done as soon as possible, part of the concrete structure was not given enough time to cure properly.  It collapsed, killing hundreds of workers.  To this day, Chiqui says, people claim the place is haunted by the ghosts of those workers.  Imelda herself never set foot in the place.  

The ghosts of Imelda's workers are an interesting contrast to the spirits resting in the US military cemetery.  That visit was definitely the  memorable Manila experience of the day.  Of my life, even.  I knew about the US military cemetery  in France, where about 10,000 US World War II soldiers are buried.   But I didn't know about this one here in Manila, where more than 17,000 US World War II soldiers are buried.

It's not surprising, when you think how much of that war was fought in the Pacific.  As an American I'm embarrassed I wasn't more aware.  I got a good little history lesson from Prandy as we toured the cemetery.   I didn't know the Japanese bombed Manila the same day they bombed Pearl Harbor.  And when he told me his father survived the  Bataan Death March,  I remembered visiting Poland  and notcing how no one there talks about the war because it was too close and too painful, right in their front yards and living rooms.   It was worse here.  Manila was flattened  even more than Warsaw was.

The cemetery is located on a little less than 140 acres of  prime land, and absolutely beautiful.  It's a sea of white marble crosses in every direction, and in the center there are two crescents of covered walkways forming a large amphitheater.  Inside the walkways are  hundreds of  white marble slabs engraved with the names of all the  US soldiers buried here.  Prandy told me that in addition to the more than 17,000  soldiers buried here, almost 40,000 are missing.  Their bodies were never found. 

As we walked,  I thought of my Dad and his three brothers, and how his mother sent all four of her sons off to war, and got them all back.   I thought of my friend Carol and how she had all three of her sons in the service at one point, and how one of them came back home from Afghanistan in pieces.  I thought of  Pearl Harbor and the World Trade Center, and I thought of Poland and Manila and Hiroshima and Nagasaki.  I thought of Korea  and Vietnam, and I thought of  how bloody the American Revolution was, and how even bloodier our Civil War was. 

I thought of Gandhi and how he led India into independence and sovereignty without war.  I thought of the Indian Sovereignty Day celebration, when all the kids wore white for peace, and sang songs.  I thought of how we Americans celebrate the Fourth of July with firecrackers and booming cannons.

I thought of something I'd read about how we're all breathing the same molecules of air that our ancestors and their ancestors breathed  hundreds and thousands of years ago.  I imagined breathing in the same molecules all those soldiers once breathed.

"Do you think all their spirits are hanging around here?" I wondered aloud.

"You never know,"  Prandy said.

There is a little open chapel with one of the most magnificent mosaics I've ever seen.  It covers an entire wall 50 feet high and about as  wide.  The mosaic pieces are about the size of my little fingernail or smaller, and the design was a garden of green leaves outlined in gold with cream and white flowers on a background of deep blues and turquoises.

As Chiqui described the mosaic to me and I felt it with my fingers, I imagined how each little piece represented each soldier, and how each little piece also represented a peace for each solder.

We sat on one of the garden benches and just savored the peace and  quiet for a moment.   I thought what a fitting paradox it is that the cemetery is so beautiful and peaceful, when it was created out of the ugly terrible violence of war. 

I thought about Gandhi again, and imagined  breathing in the air he breathed.

And I promised to remember.

The Linden Suites, Manila, The Philippines 
Saturday 2/15/14

I've landed in Manila safe and sound without a hitch.  Philippine Airlines may be obdurately unaccommodating when it comes to flight changes, but they took very good care of me today.   Andy, Prandy, the Lions, and the Philippine Resources for the Blind all did their magic and Philippine Airlines was primed and ready for me.

The Hong Kong staff person got me to the gate about 45 minutes early, and we had a nice chat to pass the time. She asked what brought me to Hong Kong, and when I told her I'd been teaching mosaics in India, she wanted to know more about what kind of mosaics i made.   I didn't have any pictures on me  to show her (they were all packed),  but  I told her  that if she could remember my name, she could visit the marydignan.com website.  She pulled out her cell phone, typed it in and started looking at the photos on my website.  She clicked on my blog and laughed after she read the first few lines of my first Hong Kong post.   "Oh, you've landed safe and sound in Hong Kong, that's good!"

I didn't say anything about my attempts to get Philippine Airlines to let me change my flight, and I don't think she knew anything about it.  I wonder if she'll read enough of the blog to find out about all that.   

In any case, I'm very happy with the way things have worked out.  They tend to do that  if you let them

As soon as I stepped off the plane onto the jetway  after we landed in Manila, I was glad I'd  changed into my skirt and sandals.  It was humid and warm and just fine for short sleeves and sandals, but I would have been miserable in long pants and warm socks.

Prandy and his wife Chiqui met me right outside the  baggage claim area, and we all had a great visit during the ride to my hotel.  It was a long ride because  some local religious cult was doing an all-day march through Manila and several roads were closed, jamming traffic everywhere. 

Andy did a great job finding this place.  The room is large  and comfortable, and has a little kitchenette and dining area too, with a real refrigerator/freezer.  I was delighted to see that, and got my serum eye drops into the freezer right away.  I have  enough to get me home and then some to hold me untilI can get some more made.   

My eyes are already feeling better in the humidity here.   They've been burning raw for weeks and the long flight from Bangalore to Hong Kong sure didn't help.  I've really been going through the drops, but I have plenty to get home on.

Anyway, after a late lunch with Prandy and Chiqui  here in one of the hotel restaurants, I'm off to savor a nice bubble bath and catch up on some sleep.   Tomorrow Prandy and Chiqui have a little tour planned for me.