Good time over Chinese New Year? Hail, yes!

 Happy Year of the Sheep, Goat, Mountain Goat or Ram. I’ve heard all versions and am not sure which it is officially (something about the Chinese word translating to multiple critters) so I just want to cover my bets.

Speaking of, while on the flight to Manila the other week, I read the new year horoscopes. You know how they hedge the bets and say in all of them that something will be really bad and something will be really good? You know: “your love life will suffer, but money will coming rolling your way” or similar. Well. Most of them were pretty feel-good. I read everyone’s in my family and they were all “the stars will align and you’ll have a fantabulous year” and the like.

But mine. Oh, man. I have no idea what the rooster ever did to the sheep/goat/mountain goat/ram, but basically the gist of the horoscope was “consider suicide because it’s going to suck.” I mean, holy cow. Every single aspect of the thing was awful. Apparently, all my investments will go south, forget friendships and love, I’ll lose my job and I might as well cash in my chips in every other facet as well. Fortunately, I put no stock into those things, but oh, my. It was just brutal. No upside whatsoever.

And so far, so very wrong. I mean, we’re early into the Year of the Sheep, Goat, Mountain Goat or Ram, and it’s been just awesome. 

I combined with the holiday and took off three days to go to Frankfurt to visit a friend. The options from Frankfurt were limitless, ranging from castles to side trips. I’d just come from Disney in Hong Kong and had a great time and mentioned that to my friend S, whom I’m visiting. A Disney fan herself, she suggested going to Disneyland Paris. At first, it was like, uh, twice in a week? For that money? And I kind of put it in the back of my mind. But the more I thought about it, the more cool it became. I mean, seriously, when will I get another shot at Disney in Paris, and, if it ever happens, will it be just a mere seven days from when I was last at a Disney? I mean, I can now say that I did Disney Hong Kong one Sunday and Disney Paris the next. A little twisted, but bragging rights nonetheless.

It was COLD at Disney. As in, frost on the tables outside the Indiana Jones ride. I’d read the high was going to be close to 50, which sounded warm so I only wore short sleeves and my barn coat. Mistake. I was absolutely freezing almost all day long, and especially on things like the Indy roller coaster.

That, honestly, was a bit tame. I liked it and it went upside down, but it couldn’t have lasted more than two minutes, if that. But was one I hadn’t done before.

All the Disney rides are a bit different from park to park, although the parks vary in which rides they have. (I’ve been to three, so I can make that call!) The It’s a Small World ride has been the most different from the three parks I’ve visited. In Hong Kong, it’s very Asia-centered, which makes sense. As you cruise through the lands, it also identifies the continents. On the one in Paris, it was kind of your guess as to where you were in the world. It also started outside and was much brighter inside than either Disney World or Hong Hong.

Pirates of the Caribbean was also a bit different. The scenes were similar, but there was no narration. I guess this was because most of the stuff was in French and had they told a store, they would have had to do it in dual languages.

Paris is larger than Hong Kong, but nowhere near Disney World size. They do have some rides that were new to me, like Indy. There was also a Pinocchio, a Snow White and Star Tours, which was my highlight, I think. All three parks I’ve visited have had haunted houses, but with different themes.

The lines in Paris were longer than Hong Kong, but that was to be expected because those lines were so light. But we really walked on a couple of rides, like Indy, because we had good timing. We did have one long wait, which was Buzz Lightyear. That was about an hour. But everything else was much less.

At lunch, we left the park and went to the equivalent of Downtown Disney, which, unlike in Orlando, is literally right next to the park. When we got the shuttle to the area, we were dropped off at a train station (runs straight from Paris, 30 minutes away, but we stayed closer to the area) and you have three potions: Disney Village, the movie studio park and Disneyland. The movie studio park has Toy Story land and a Ratatouille ride, but we didn’t do that one.

Back to lunch … lots of expensive options, but we settled on the Earl of Sandwich, where I had some really good thing with beef. I ate a lot of beef. The Earl of Sandwich (and in my brain, I kept hearing, “And I am the Duke of Ted”) the place overlooked a lake and was quite warm inside. That was a nice respite, but we happily went back into the cold to hit Thunder Mountain Railroad. This is also in all three parks, but different in each. The Hong Kong one goes backwards, and Paris, I think, went underwater. We suddenly did this dip into total blackness, did a couple of other twists and when we came out, we’d exited the island. I really don’t know, but it was cool.

Had a wonderful time, and when S gives me the pictures, I’ll post them. I’ve given up all hope on my own camera.

Before we left for Frankfurt, we wandered Paris a bit, which was fun. My first trip to Paris, when the pre-paid debit card didn’t work, wasn’t so good, so this was a good balance to that one.

Yeah, I saw the Eiffel Tower, the Arc de Triumph and Champ D’Elysees, but believe it or not, one of my highlights was thwarting a con man.

We’d camped out at the Arc and this dude came up and tried the “Oh, I found a ring, wouldn’t you like it?” routine and we were like, go away. He pushed it and I basically shouted “Non! Non!” and he left.

We were beat and sat there awhile at the roundabout, to the point where he came by again. S stared him down and he avoided us (tourists look alike. At the Eiffel Tower, we were approached twice by the same con artists. The second time, we said uh, no, we are the same people you tried to con last time and it didn’t work.) Back at the Arc, we watched Conner try it on another couple that were walking by. I don’t know what happened there because I think the woman took it, but he came back with it again.

The backpack seemed to be the giveaway, and S and I saw a guy sitting on the other corner of our little pie piece of the roundabout angling up to the Arc. We both figured he’d be the next target, and he was. Conner went up and tried it and I don’t know what went down, but he stood there forever. I finally told S I felt I should go bail him out and we both got up and walked over to Backpack and then started yelling at Conner to get lost. He got pissed and cursed me out and I threw it back at him. Felt so empowering. Backpack was grateful and we all went off happy.

Later, as we bought metro tickets, the ticket guy started speaking in a lower voice, through the microphone. He darted his eyes to the left and told us that guy was a pickpocket and to look out. We were grateful for the warning and watched him. He joined us on the metro and, once he’d been pointed out to us, it was ridiculously obvious that he was a pickpocket. Everyone else was watching for the train or talking to each other, but this guy was eyeing everyone’s bags. It was really a good lesson in situational awareness.

The day in Paris was a little chilly, but much warmer than it had been on Disney Day, but it was so windy. We were too leery to do the elevator at the Eiffel Tower (and too cheap, let’s be honest), and the weather just went nuts at times here and there. The weirdest was while on the Champ L’Elysees, when it started sprinkling, and then sprinkling hard. And by “hard,” I mean solid – it hailed. I could not believe it.

So if that’s what my horrorscope meant by impending doom, I’ll take it. I’ll take a hailufva year.

I’d never make it as a celebrity, nor do I want to

My stay in Manila has been at a fabulous hotel. So fabulous, indeed, that when I came in, the delegation of Indonesian president Joko Widodo was here. He was in there somewhere, but I never saw him. He left on Monday, though.

So the hotel’s nice. I’d been told it had a continental breakfast, but that was an understatement. Eggs any way you like, dim sum and sushi are not found on continental breakfasts. Neither is pineapple juice or, generally, individual glass jars of jelly for pieces of super-thick toast or slices of beef and pepperoni. I’m not sure what those are for, but the beef’s tasty.

There’s also a dinner buffet, which is fantastic but a little weird. There aren’t side dishes per say. Yes, there is sushi or a tiny little plate of some other Asian dish (like a cracker of chicken tandoori, when I’ve only seen it in the shape of a giant sandwich) but in general, no side dishes. And, unlike any city in Asia that I’ve visited, no rice or noodles.

Instead, there’s meat. Not a lot of varieties, but just meat. There’s been a pork, a seafood and a beef or chicken dish every night. One night it was spicy pork strips, big pieces of chicken in “liver sauce” and crab cakes. Another evening had the best, most tender beef with garlic and pepper that I’ve ever had. The seafood, in particular, has been tasty, and there’s even fish as a breakfast meat. I didn’t even know I liked crab cakes but had two.

There is also a bread and cheese assortment, but that’s weird. There are “bread sticks,” but not in the Olive Garden sense – they are literally thin twists of crunchy bread that are maybe 6-8 inches long. I am not sure how you put the cheese on them. There are also hard rolls and soft rolls, neither of which screams “cheese me” to me. And, for some really weird reason, there are soft pretzels. I have never seen a pretzel on a buffet. On Saturday evening, the rolls were shaped like hearts for Valentine’s Day, and half of them had been dyed red with food coloring.

And the desserts – little portions, but about 5-8 to choose from. And they mix it up; it’s not the same selection from evening to evening. Last night, I got lucky with my second night in a row of the little cheesecake square, topped with a blueberry. That’s my favorite.

But what I wolf down is the watermelon. I think I ate a giant wedge last night, all told. They don’t give you the rind, but I downed probably a quarter of an adult-size watermelon. Made the mistake of sitting right next to the dessert tray and just kept eating it. I only stopped because I ate it all. I did leave three pieces of pineapple.

The buffet is for Diamond Something (Star? Key?) guests, of which I am one. Somehow. (Shhh!) This means it’s OK to go to the buffet in slippers, which are provided by the hotel, along with both white terry and leopard-print slinky bathrobes, though  I brought my own grungy ones from some other hotel with the idea of tossing them when I am done.

Being a Diamond Something means you’re greeted with “Hello M’am” (or “Sir,” sometimes followed by a correction) all the flipping time. It’s polite, but overkill. The walk to the elevator from the front door (which is past the metal detector and drug-sniffing dogs and held open by one person as you’re waved and “Hello M’am’d” in by another) is maybe 50 feet but there are probably 10 people in the lobby greeting you. Maybe the Filipino culture is just that hospitality-oriented, but it’s kind of creepy.

It’s even more creepy when they greet you by name. Yesterday upon departure to the study place, one of the people welcomed me with “Miss Linley.” And when I had to call the hotel because the car didn’t arrive (hospitable, not perfect) to pick me and the other guy on time, the person on the other end, without any prompting except, “I’m checking to see when my car will arrive” said, “Oh, you’re Miss What’s-her-name.” And, looking back, I really think she was trying to pronounce “Wartenberg,” simply because every other time something similar has happened, that’s what it’s been.

And you know what? I hate it.

I would make such a terrible celebrity. I do not like it when people know my name and I don’t know them from Adam’s housecat. I don’t mind doing things like pushing my own elevator button, throwing my own toast into the toaster (I didn’t know I wasn’t supposed to do this. It wasn’t plugged in, and instead of asking for help, I just moved the fruit display, plugged the toaster in, and plopped the bread in. One of the nice staff members saw what I was doing and almost had a coronary, assuring me that he’d “take care of it, M’am.”)

I don’t like that each drink I am served comes in a glass with a straw that’s bent to a certain angle, and the paper is left on the end for sanitary (?) purposes. It creeps me out that someone insists on wiping my sweat off the elliptical after I am done. It’s sort of freaky that someone knocks on my door and asks to “turn my bed down.” What does that mean, anyway?

Actually, I was not in the room last night when they did this, so they came and did it for me. I was totally thrown off when I returned. First, they’d delivered my laundry (OK, this is a perk I like, but it bothers me that it’s all wrapped in plastic with coat hangers, and I had to fill out four pieces of paper and put it all in a plastic bag to begin with), and when I saw that, I knew someone had been in my room.

OK, I live in China, I am used to that. But then I kept finding little surprises. There was some kind of towel at the side of my bed, with my grungy slippers on it. The bed really was “turned down,” which apparently means one side folded diagonally. My toothbrush was sitting by the sink under a tissue. One of the waters from the minibar had been moved next to my bed with one of the glasses. I’d eaten the orange of the orange-and-apple combination that appears on my coffee table daily, and they cleaned that plate, replaced the napkin (but not the orange) and arranged everything nicely. Oh, and left me another piece of chocolate in a little butterfly box. (They give this to you even if you turn down the turn-down service.)

And I thought that was it until the morning, when I realized my curtains had been shut. I woke up but thought it was the middle of the night. I thought maybe it was because I was stressed about this test I had to take, but I wasn’t tired at all. Since there are too many pillows to just easily check the time (crawling over them all to get to my watch gets the blood moving, and I knew if I did that I’d never get back to sleep, this I know from experience – and fewer pillows), I just tried to go back to sleep. I had no idea what time it was, but I’ve been waking up around 2 and 4 a.m., so I figured it was one of them, and then all of a sudden my alarm went off. It was 6. No wonder I was awake! But the room is REALLY dark when you shut the huge bay window. (It does overlook a bay.)

So some of the celebrity-like perks are cool, but I’d really rather just remain anonymous.

Going down again

I’m in Manila this week for a class, and I came a week early so that I could dive again.This is only my third time and I’m not sure I am improving, but it’s really beautiful. I love doing it.

Just what I need – an expensive hobby!

I tried to save a little time and not go to the place I went to before. Although I loved it and the people were amazingly nice (and gracious, considering the financial fiasco), I decided to save the one-hour high-speed boat ride across the bay, or whatever body of water it was.

Well, as it turned out, I wound up taking the same bus to the same city, and then instead of getting on a boat for an hour, I got in this jeep thing, packed Moroccan-like with people, for an hour, and then waited on my ride to pick me up and ferry me over. So probably I could have gone to the same place, but no worries. The place I went to, Dive and Trek, was also amazing.

I only did two dives, both off shore. It’s phenomenal to go down and see what’s there, because when you look out at the bay (or whatever it is), there is absolutely no hint of what’s below.

We went down maybe 27 meters and into this place called Bat’s Cave. Not a clue who comes up with those names, but I thought maybe it was called that because there were a lot of black fish.

But also there was a statue of the Virgin Mary! I was shocked to see it. The Philippines is quite a Catholic country – the Pope was here not that long ago, and the taxis are still riding around with McDonalds ads that say “Welcome Pope Francis” in Tagalog.

A little up from the cave, there was a cross, similar to what you might find on a headstone, except for the underwater critters growing all over it.

We also saw a stingray, clownfish, giant clams, Nemos of several sizes and a grouper, among other things. The grouper just sat there and I asked what it was. (The divemaster had this little Etch-a-Sketch type thing he would write on underwater.) I honestly don’t think I’ve ever seen a live grouper. It had very buggy eyes.

Oh! And a seahorse! My gosh, it was tiny. The divemaster found this coral thing that was kind of spider-webby and white and red. He took out a magnifying glass and started inspecting it. It took forever (and I was trying to practice my stay-in-on-spot technique) and then he motioned me over. I had no idea what I was looking for, honestly, and he kept pointing and flashing his flashlight and I finally saw it. It couldn’t have been half an inch tall.

The photos are what I saw, but they’re not mine. I am once again reminded that my next big purchase should really be a dive camera, or at least a camera that’s fit for diving. But it seems silly to buy a camera when I don’t even own my own mask!

Enter the renewed “expensive hobby” lament.

My next diving trip is going to be Australia. I have planned my R&R – the dates, anyway – and am looking at places in Melbourne and Sydney.

The divemaster today recommended cage diving. I am not sure I am ready for that.

Of course, I'm not exactly ready for the Excel class -- the reason I'm in Manila this week -- but it's coming, too.

Groundhog Day

 We’re at the point where the days start to repeat themselves! I’m over a year into this post and, although I am not in any hurry to get out of here, I can’t help but look at the calendar and think, gee, only X months left.

And really, they all look alike. We’re at high speed at work and that’s not really going to end. It might kick into hyperdrive, though.

We have a week this month where there’s just not going to be a lot getting done. The week after next, we have four days of holidays. We work (well, a few of us) on Tuesday, but other that that, it’s a day off.

This past week at work was nutso because I had stuff to do every night. Usually it’s rare that I have one thing to do, and I really was packed for all. I don’t close often, but did so three days, then I also had a Bible study, a book club and then an outreach event. And then on Sunday I proctored a test.

On Saturday, I joined a busload of people to go to Panyu Square. Technically, it’s the last stop on a metro route, but we did a little road trip.

The place was really cool, as all ancestral homes are. Really, I like the architecture here, but it’s kind of running together. But I enjoyed the company, especially. I have a lot of really nice colleagues, and some of them don’t work in my department, which means I don’t get to spend time with them at work.

Here are a couple of photos. Other than the photo op, I’ve no idea what the doorway was for. The motorcycle guy was great, especially when you got up close and realized it was a real cigarette. The random corner I liked for the mix of new and old – see the security camera?