Back to work

Yesterday, I went to a local library to speak to a group of “youth.” I’d volunteered in January for a random weekend in March and it finally came due.

In Morocco, “youth” meant people up to age 40, assuming they weren’t married, so based on that, I was expecting a slightly older crew, and, seeing as how the topic was “Culture of America” (however I wanted to interpret that), I figured there’d be some knowledge of English.

Upon officially being tasked with the gig, my age range shot and narrowed down to “elementary school age” – 6 to 12 or so. But as it turned out, they meant kids primarily 4-9 or so, with one outlier who could not have been older than 2. Oh, and their parents.

It was so bizarre and I’ve no idea if it went over well for them, but I had a blast. After chatting with a few people for ideas, I settled on an animal presentation, highlighting critters found in America. (Some were in Canada and South America, too, and some similar species were found in other parts of the world, but all that I chose were biggies in the U.S.)

I did another PowerPoint – I love that stuff – and had three slides for each of 15 animals: one for photos, one for three facts and one that had a map where they lived in America as well as a “fun fact.”

I split them into three groups of five and had games planned to review the species: charades, a quiz game and the thing where you put the name on your head and then try to guess based on yes or no questions you ask your team. Well, that’s not going to happen with a 4-year-old. That part turned out to be a debacle so I wound up just shouting out questions and letting the kids scream out the answers.

I got A LOT of questions, which as cool but I am no expert in all the critters I talked about. Um...do brown recluse spiders have webs? I said no. And I said that prairie dogs eat meat, which, upon retrospect, is probably really wrong. I figured they'd never remember anyway. But they do know what to do in case they run into a rattlesnake - stand completely still until it goes away. (I remember this from a sign in a national park in Arizona. What it said was something like, "If you are lucky enough to see a rattlesnake, step back and enjoy." Yeah, right.)

They also wanted to know about the eating habits of wolves, like what the alpha male ate. Well, I read a book on that and it's fascinating. Each wolf in the pack has a different role and, when the pack makes a kill, each wolf eats a certain part of the kill and what they eat pertains to what they need for their role in the pack. It's really deep, and these kids were little! HOW do you explain that?

They got into the “what do they eat?” thing and I had no idea. But unofficially, skunks eat animals smaller than them and possums eat plants. What kind of plant, they wanted to know. The kind with leaves, I stressed. Tell me I can’t think on my feet.

It really was a lot of fun and I would do it again. Apparently, this library – which is solely a kids’ library, kind of cool – is trying to establish this program with a lot of the consulates and I got to be the first. I feel I set the bar high. The kids had a really good time, and so did I. I mean, I went WAY overboard in my presentation, but they liked the pictures. I’d to the same presentation – Animal Olympics and all – to a slightly older audience with no qualms whatsoever.

And now it’s Sunday and I’ve been back into work to supervise a contractor job and to try and fight our Sharepoint site, which is a weird Microsoft program that’s kind of an online filing system. I really don’t like it because it’s hard to make useful. Anyway, I went in thinking I’d have four hours to catch up while I did that and then the contractors arrived late and took an early lunch and I really didn’t have that much time.

Now what I have to do is get a grip on my annual evaluation, which is just a nightmare. No one likes to do these thing and they’re just a pain in the butt. But my department has 40 due between now and June 1 and since I get to project manage them all through, it’s in my best interest to get mine underway and out of the way as soon as possible or I run out of time dealing with it. 

Throwing in some more Melbourne photos. I just loved the beach. I’m not sure if I am a beach or mountain person. There’s got to be some place that has them both. That’s where I want to go.

The little hole in the dirt was a penguin next. He or she was home at the time, but wouldn’t pose for a photo. That was the only opportunity I had to photograph one because we couldn’t once it got dark.

The birds were unreal to see in the wild. They were just in this random park in Melbourne, seriously. I heard this “cawing” and looked up and saw these lovebirds. It was hard to shoot them – I really need a better camera. Later, in Sydney, I saw some cockatoos just hanging out.

I don’t know what happened to the starfish, but he must have been really slow, because he was completely dried out. I think I saw three on the rocks where this was.

The model thing was in the art gallery. I forget what it was called, but it was something about a reflection. It’s a hanging installation of a model of a temple. The model is built in 14 pieces. It’s essentially seven different buildings, then the complete reflection of those buildings. It really was pretty phenomenal.

Did I mention the music was fabulous? It was like being thrown back into the 1980s. I really heard "Stuck With You" and "Jessie's Girl" on the radio (and visited Springfield Park in Sydney, although that might have been a coincidence).

 Oh, and I tasted Vegemite. It was vile.

Up, Down and Over in Australia

Back from R&R! And although it really is good to be back, I had a blast.

I mistimed by visit to Melbourne. Had no clue the Grand Prix was there that weekend, but it really wasn’t so bad. I heard the cars practicing and doing the qualifying (or whatever it’s called) and got to watch the fighter planes practicing for whatever it is that they do.

Don't we all?

That was quite cool, actually. Very Top Gun-ish. As I was walking along the beach, I could hear the roar of a plane – you could hear it WAY before you could see the thing – and then he’d come into sight, doing all kinds of maneuvers, like a kid would do with a model plane. Up, down, in circles, upside down and everything, until he just shot up and disappeared. I guess he came down later, but I never saw that part.

My first impression of Australia, though, was first of all, it was more sun than I’ve seen in a LONG time (and I’m back to polluted skies now) and second, that a lot of people smoke.  A lot of people smoke here, too, but I don’t notice it. There, in both Melbourne and Sydney, there were just smokers everywhere.

Another thing in general that I appreciated – so very Western! – was the availability of drinking water. They brought it to you at meals! Had water fountains everywhere! Oh, I’ve missed that, just as I’ve missed clean public toilets with … wait for it … toilet paper!

Oh yeah, I enjoyed the little things.

I had a lot of highlights in my 10 days in Australia. The whole trip kind of crept up on me. I was there about as long as I was in Alaska when I went there, and I did as much adventurous stuff, but the difference was, that time I had it all mapped out and booked everything in advance.

Best golf course sign ever.

This time around, I had two things planned – the penguin trip and a double shore dive – but everything else was spur-of-the-moment. And by this I mean I was on web site one evening that said “Dive with Sharks!” and the next afternoon that’s what I did.

Yep. I dove with sharks. This was after my double shore dive, and I think I was endangered more on that than with the sharks! I’d gone to Manly – a half-hour ferry ride from Sydney – and gone diving in the morning. On our second dive, the guide brought us up a LONG way away from where we were supposed to be. We could see the shore, but it was quite a ways. We started swimming, and I had a hard time for a couple of reasons. The biggest, or so I thought, was that the wetsuit I was wearing was too tight at my neck and I could only breathe comfortably if I was completely horizontal in the water. Well, if you’re diving and need to swim, it’s more efficient if you do it on your back. And since you’re wearing an inflated BCD – the breathing thing – you cannot be completely horizontal.

So there I was, trying to kick my feet and having to hold two fingers at my collar to pull the neck thing out so I could breathe. And I just didn’t feel like I was getting anywhere. I finally told the instructor that I was really tired. She came back, took a look and said, “When did you lose a fin?” And that’s when I figured out why I was making zero progress – in the initial kicking, I must have kicked off a flipper, but I never saw or felt it.

Obligatory Opera House photo

Since you can’t really swim with one fine and zero would have been futile, the guide had to tow me. It was kind of embarrassing, but there just wasn’t anything I could do. And the guide was really embarrassed, too, because basically it was her initial screwup. But no harm, no foul. I lived to dive with sharks later that day.

But realistically, that, too, was tame. The sharks looked quite killer, but they – Grey Nurse sharks – aren’t designed for attacking humans. God made them to be able to stab little fish, not big things. So it was perfectly safe, and it took place not in the open water but in this giant Living Seas-type sanctuary/aquarium thing that held about a kajillion gallons.

The drill was you go in, kind of flop over a tunnel (seriously, it’s like walking in outer space – very hard to do), walk to the shark tank, then pull yourself up on the tunnel thing and just hang there as they did their thing. They took a max of four people at a time, but when I went, it was just me and this woman from Sweden, whose boyfriend was too scared to do it. He stayed in the tunnel (the thing where visitors to the sanctuary walked through to see the underwater world) and took pictures of her the whole time.

Had to stay here. Had my name written all over it.

We didn’t even use fins on that one, just the booties. It wasn’t so much as “diving with sharks” as it was “walking under water and hanging out as they swim by.” But it was very cool. As it turned out, the sharks, while fascinating, weren’t even my favorite part. They had these giant stingrays – we’re talking over three square feet – but also three big ol’ sea turtles. As I was leaving the shark tank and going back over the tunnel to exit, one of those guys smashed into me. That was my highlight – being hammered by a loggerhead.

Previously, I’d seen the penguins while in Melbourne, so the dives – all three of them – were additional critter highlights. The penguins, recommended by Laurie, were pretty awesome. It’s a sun-goes-down thing, when these little guys – called Little Penguins, previously known as Fairy Penguins – come out of the ocean and into their little nests. You’d see one surfacing, then a wave would roll in and they’d multiply, like Children of the Corn. You couldn’t photograph them, but they also had a few at the Living Seas-type place and I got some shots of those guys. I really need a better camera.

Can you see the joey?

So the diving was the “down” part. The “up” was another spur-of-the-moment thing when I decided to jump off an airplane. I’d thought about skydiving before but hadn’t had the opportunity. I’ve said before that I’d like to do it, although bungee jumping holds no interest to me. I enjoy the scenery, and you can’t do that bungee jumping. Skydiving seemed like a good way to get another perspective on God’s handiwork.

With that in mind, I was fine with it. I had a false start when the skydive place and the travel agent I went through mis-communicated between themselves and had me going a different day than they told me, but the day of was flawless. Beautiful weather, no wind.

It was kind of like waiting around at a track meet. There were 14 of us jumping and only two fit in the plane at a time.(This was tandem, so by that I mean two jumpers and two instructors at a time in the plane.) There was a lot of waiting around, even initially. As it turned out, I was the first in the group of 14 to go (me and a girl from Singapore whose husband was a wimp) and the first out of the plane.

Me, post-jump

Oddly, I was never at any point worried about it. I was actually a little anxious that I wasn’t concerned about it, but I couldn’t muster up anything. I kept thinking, “Gee, I should really feel like I’m going to wet myself, but I don’t.” And I told my instructor guy I was reserving the right to freak out at the last minute, but it never kicked in. I was perfectly calm the whole time. It wasn’t some kind of adrenaline rush like I thought it would be. It was completely chill and relaxing.

I even liked the little plane on the way up, although the four of us were basically sitting in the trunk of a car. The pilot had a seat, but the two pairs of jumpers were just sitting on the floor. I kept thinking panic would set in, but even once I was harnessed to the instructor and he said there were almost three miles left, at the three-mile signal put on the goggles and at the two-mile he’d open the door and at the one we’d step off, I figured I’d start having heart palpitations. But no.

It was gorgeous, though. The freefall didn’t even feel like falling – I was expecting something like the Toy Soldiers thing at Disney or the Free Fall thing at Six Flags or whatever – but it’s just this wind rushing by you so that you can’t hear anything. Then there’s a jerk – my back hurt the next day – as the chute opens and then you’re just gaping at the awesomeness of it all. And then it’s over. I’d do it again in a heartbeat.

I saved the bridge walk for the last day. Honestly, I was more hesitant to walk the 1,400 steps up the Sydney Harbor Bridge than to jump off an airplane, but it was incredibly tame. I think I pictured steeper steps and a lot of hiking, like I did at Tiger’s Nest in Bhutan. But this was just walking up a gradual incline with a lot of stops on the way so that you could bask in 360-degree views of Sydney Harbor, which I loved. In one little port – just one of many – I counted over 100 boats.

So my R&R was a complete success. The Linley House, my one lodging splurge, was awesome, with it being my first encounter with another Linley and me being the proprietors’ first Linley in the flesh.

I met up with a colleague in Melbourne and had a great time with her. We had a couple great lunches and then caught a movie. (And I saw another one while I was in Sydney, and watched “Nightcrawler” on the plane, so I’m down to three in my Netflix queue.)

Ate at Margaritaville’s. Never been there before and didn’t know there was on there but enjoyed it in Leila’s honor. I had fish and chips a total of three times, but was too full to have dessert with the Margaritaville meal, even though it was $14.95 Key Lime pie.

Melbourne, in particular, had phenomenal places to eat. I mean, you name it, they had a restaurant catering to it. My colleague and I discussed this at length. She asked if I knew this one type of street food from Taiwan – a chicken breast that’s pummeled flat and served on a stick – and I’d indeed had it. She said there was a restaurant there specializing in it. Seriously, this random street food from Taiwan, and there it is in Melbourne.

Anyway, I just had a great time all around. Now it’s back to work tomorrow, though I went in today and cleared out 450 emails (I’d unsubscribed to a listserv to cut back on the emails and am so glad I did.) So tomorrow it’s back to reality, but I am ready for it.

The trip between trips

I really just got home from Manila/Hong Kong and Frankfurt/Paris and my R&R starts next week in Melbourne/Sydney. If I were a normal person, I would have taken this weekend to recoup, but no. A couple of friends went to Macau and asked me to tag along, so I did.
 

We’re just back and I’m totally sick with a cold, but ah well. My plan is to get the clothes out of the washer, take a shower and just crash.

This was the second time I’ve been to Macau, and we did a different part than before. It was more Portugual-y than the first area, though not by much. The egg tarts were pretty awesome. We got six for 50 Macau pataca (and have a lot of fun saying “pataca” and even though all three of us loved them, we opted to give our second to a sweet lady who was begging outside the store. She gave us a sincere toothless smile in appreciation, and it was totally worth it.

The influence of Portugal is still strong in Macau, down to the religion. The churches and cathedral in mainland China are few, far between and not open to locals. 

Macau had a few, and we went to one and happened to get there right as mass was starting, so we went. It seemed tacky to try to photograph the inside while we were worshiping so I didn’t, but it really was pretty inside. It was yellow with a mint green ceiling. The stained glass – which was minimal – was the same shade of green and a shade of lavender. Taken together, it reminded me – in a good way – of those after-dinner mints. Very simple and very beautiful. 

The photo of the church here is a different one than the one I went in, in a separate part of Macau. I loved the dock, too. I just have a thing for boats and water, I know. I photograph them a lot. I really liked the juxtaposition of the little boat with the City of Dreams and Hard Rock in the background.

So now I have to figure out how to pack for Australia, and perhaps do a little planning for that, too. What I have right now is places to stay, an overnight bus from Melbourne to Sydney, reservations for penguin-watching and diving on two days. That’s it. I have no earthly idea what I will do the rest of the time. 

I need to plan, but I’ve been so ridiculously busy. As in, last week, I’d glance at my watch and realize there were only five minutes left in the workday or that lunch was half over and I hadn’t realize it had begun.

There are two days in this work week for me, and I have a big deadline, a doctor’s appointment and God knows what else. My busy season will be in full swing upon my return, too, so I need to tie up whatever is outstanding before I get out of town.

One loose end I’d like to tie up is an outstanding partial order from Walmart.  My order got mucked up the other day. It's still kinda funny. I've previously ordered a bunch of grocery items and then one bath item -- a loofah -- and, if you've ever ordered from a place that has food/no food items, you probably know they ship those separately.

The loofah came shipped in this box about twice the size of a shoebox. That was all that was in the box. Everything else had been food. The thing wasn't that big, but didn't fit in an envelope. I guess it was the next size up.

But right after I got back from Manila, I got another box that topped it. I placed a big order and part's still outstanding, so I was expecting that. Katie in the mailroom laughed when she gave me the box, asking if I'd gotten another sponge and joking that it was air because it was so light. We aren't allowed to open mail in the office, so I took it home and opened it.

It was air. All that was in there was about seven of those little air packets. No packing slip. So I emailed them -- they really good at getting back -- and suggested that maybe it was supposed to be the outstanding part of my order. They said no, my order hadn't been shipped yet. I was like, uh .... then why did you send me air? I didn’t get a response to that email and instead got a “the rest of your order has shipped” note. 

So yeah, kinda funny.  I just want the rest of the order to come in. I’d like to delete that email.

I keep a “spam” email address where all stuff like that goes, and right now, that account is full of emails. Beyond the Walmart correspondence, I have all upcoming travel stuff. Just the Australia trip alone is enough to clog an inbox (somehow, despite such few plans) but I also have Nepal, Burma and Zhengzhou. I’m ready for the R&R just so I can delete some of the stuff!

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?