I am still in the Bronx with no firm plans to return home much to the chagrin of Mariz and her family. When Winter Break let's out in 3 weeks the family is heading to Bataan Province, where Mariz's parents are originally from, and where Mariz herself was born. The pastor, Mariz's father, is excitedly making plans to bring me along to present me to both sides of the family. It is difficult explaining to people who have never left the Philippines just how hard it is to find an inbound seat during Xmas Season.
One of the (many) things I find disgusting about the Philippines is the OFW System. OFW, or Overseas Foreign Worker, denoted Filipinos who take part in a government programme that exports more than 10 percent of the country's labour force abroad. Remittances from OFWs are what keeps the Philippine Economy afloat. One would imagine that because it is a government programme that OFWs enjoy care and assistance from the Philippine Government. Aside from an OFW liason in most embassies and some consulates there is no assistance whatsoever.
One is hardpressed to find a Filipino adolescent anywhere that doesn't dream of becoming an OFW. In a nation where upper middle class translates into $250 a month in wages, wiping an elderly person's ass in Brasil can make someone comparitively wealthy- or at least that is the commonly held fantasy. The reality of the matter is that OFWs must go abroad through government sanctioned labour agencies which commonly charge $3,000, a year and a half worth of upper middle class wages. Therefore they go heavily into debt, mortgaging or selling off anything and everything in sight. Oftentimes this requires the services of a loan shark, in Filipino speak, a "money lender." So, from the door the OFW owes nearly 2 years wages (as much as 10 years if from the lower classes as are the majority of OFWs).
Then, there is the cost of living in host nations. Here in New York City a furnished room usually costs $800. Add to that food, transportation and so on and the net result is a very meagre existence. Whatever money is left at the end of the month goes to the Philippines as a remittance. At home OFWs bask in adulation, living a life most dream of and like people anywhere, they do precious little to dispel these false impressions of life abroad.
Most OFWs only get home once every 3 years or so, and when they do go home it is inevitably for Xmas with the family. Airlines therefore gouge prices and a one way ticket from New York to Manila can cost nearly $2,000, as opposed to the usual $750. Since Mariz's family has never gone abroad they don't understand the difficulty I face in trying to get home before Winter Break.
Last week, I was invited to attend a wedding for the first cousin of the mate I am staying with. The wedding took place in Stroudsberg, Pennsylvania, about 2 hours west of New York City by auto. My mate, his wife, 2 of his kids, his mother and his sister all went in his car so I took a bus. I stayed in the Hamilton Inn where we all had rooms, a decent enough motel. The wedding took place in a place called the Stroudsberg Inn which sits atop a bluff, the town being in the Pocono Mountains.
The ceremony was in a medium sized room with a gas fueled fire place but the atmosphere was nice enough. The reception, upstairs, left alot to be desired. The food sucked. A fruited pork loin, basically 2 slices of pork loin with stewed figs and raisins. The part that floored me though was the powdered mash potatoes. What the fuck? Better to have a tiny reception with class than to have a big affair that comes off garishly. When Rizza and I had a reception in New York for close family members of mine who couldn't make it to Israel, where we held our Jewish Wedding, I paid $5,000 for 30 people in a private room at 21 Club. To me? It makes no sense to have a large reception unless you do it right.
Of course I was polite, as I usually am, and thanked the couple for inviting me (I'm sure the hundred dollar bill I gave them had something to do with their profuse gratitude at the end of the evening). I was pleased that there were no brawls. I have rarely seen a Puerto Rican party where at least one fight took place.
Laying awake back at the motel I messaged with Mariz as I fought the urge to sleep having taken my dose of methadone. The free breakfast in the morning was worth noting. Almost everytime a chain motel advertises a free breakfast you end up with a tiny box of cereal, stale donuts and a hard boiled egg. This motel did an admirable job. Grabbing a couple of yogurts for the road I hopped in a taxi and back to the Deleware Water Gap bus station for the long ride back to the city.
Thanksgiving came and went. As a Jew I do not celebrate it. Suprisingly my mate and his family didn't either. This morning he, his wife and their 2 year old daughter left for a 3 day visit to Scranton, Pennsylvania where a sister of his wife lives. Staying with me in their flat then is his son, 20 and jobless and one of her sons, 19 and flamboyantly gay. Both will undoubtedly have lovers staying over tonight.
The gay one stays in his room when his lover visits and I'm glad for it. I don't have any sort of complex about homosexuality, being very secure in my orientation, but homosexual acts are punishable by death in my culture. Judaism has eschewed capital punishment for 2,100 years, and instead ostracises such people. When I was in prison I would see such things though usually it wasn't out in the open. Still, I find it very distasteful but then I would also find a man and woman fucking in front of me to be distasteful in much the same way.
I just came from the methadone clinic and am slowly making my way to the #2 bus on Morris Avenue and E138th Street. I was a bit peeved to discover that the clinic is now changing its hours. Currently it is open from 630AM to 630PM. Starting December 17th it will close at 530PM. I guess that still leaves guest dosing at Bellevue in Manhattan if I need to go in late. Bellevue is open until 730PM.
One of the (many) things I find disgusting about the Philippines is the OFW System. OFW, or Overseas Foreign Worker, denoted Filipinos who take part in a government programme that exports more than 10 percent of the country's labour force abroad. Remittances from OFWs are what keeps the Philippine Economy afloat. One would imagine that because it is a government programme that OFWs enjoy care and assistance from the Philippine Government. Aside from an OFW liason in most embassies and some consulates there is no assistance whatsoever.
One is hardpressed to find a Filipino adolescent anywhere that doesn't dream of becoming an OFW. In a nation where upper middle class translates into $250 a month in wages, wiping an elderly person's ass in Brasil can make someone comparitively wealthy- or at least that is the commonly held fantasy. The reality of the matter is that OFWs must go abroad through government sanctioned labour agencies which commonly charge $3,000, a year and a half worth of upper middle class wages. Therefore they go heavily into debt, mortgaging or selling off anything and everything in sight. Oftentimes this requires the services of a loan shark, in Filipino speak, a "money lender." So, from the door the OFW owes nearly 2 years wages (as much as 10 years if from the lower classes as are the majority of OFWs).
Then, there is the cost of living in host nations. Here in New York City a furnished room usually costs $800. Add to that food, transportation and so on and the net result is a very meagre existence. Whatever money is left at the end of the month goes to the Philippines as a remittance. At home OFWs bask in adulation, living a life most dream of and like people anywhere, they do precious little to dispel these false impressions of life abroad.
Most OFWs only get home once every 3 years or so, and when they do go home it is inevitably for Xmas with the family. Airlines therefore gouge prices and a one way ticket from New York to Manila can cost nearly $2,000, as opposed to the usual $750. Since Mariz's family has never gone abroad they don't understand the difficulty I face in trying to get home before Winter Break.
Last week, I was invited to attend a wedding for the first cousin of the mate I am staying with. The wedding took place in Stroudsberg, Pennsylvania, about 2 hours west of New York City by auto. My mate, his wife, 2 of his kids, his mother and his sister all went in his car so I took a bus. I stayed in the Hamilton Inn where we all had rooms, a decent enough motel. The wedding took place in a place called the Stroudsberg Inn which sits atop a bluff, the town being in the Pocono Mountains.
The ceremony was in a medium sized room with a gas fueled fire place but the atmosphere was nice enough. The reception, upstairs, left alot to be desired. The food sucked. A fruited pork loin, basically 2 slices of pork loin with stewed figs and raisins. The part that floored me though was the powdered mash potatoes. What the fuck? Better to have a tiny reception with class than to have a big affair that comes off garishly. When Rizza and I had a reception in New York for close family members of mine who couldn't make it to Israel, where we held our Jewish Wedding, I paid $5,000 for 30 people in a private room at 21 Club. To me? It makes no sense to have a large reception unless you do it right.
Of course I was polite, as I usually am, and thanked the couple for inviting me (I'm sure the hundred dollar bill I gave them had something to do with their profuse gratitude at the end of the evening). I was pleased that there were no brawls. I have rarely seen a Puerto Rican party where at least one fight took place.
Laying awake back at the motel I messaged with Mariz as I fought the urge to sleep having taken my dose of methadone. The free breakfast in the morning was worth noting. Almost everytime a chain motel advertises a free breakfast you end up with a tiny box of cereal, stale donuts and a hard boiled egg. This motel did an admirable job. Grabbing a couple of yogurts for the road I hopped in a taxi and back to the Deleware Water Gap bus station for the long ride back to the city.
Thanksgiving came and went. As a Jew I do not celebrate it. Suprisingly my mate and his family didn't either. This morning he, his wife and their 2 year old daughter left for a 3 day visit to Scranton, Pennsylvania where a sister of his wife lives. Staying with me in their flat then is his son, 20 and jobless and one of her sons, 19 and flamboyantly gay. Both will undoubtedly have lovers staying over tonight.
The gay one stays in his room when his lover visits and I'm glad for it. I don't have any sort of complex about homosexuality, being very secure in my orientation, but homosexual acts are punishable by death in my culture. Judaism has eschewed capital punishment for 2,100 years, and instead ostracises such people. When I was in prison I would see such things though usually it wasn't out in the open. Still, I find it very distasteful but then I would also find a man and woman fucking in front of me to be distasteful in much the same way.
I just came from the methadone clinic and am slowly making my way to the #2 bus on Morris Avenue and E138th Street. I was a bit peeved to discover that the clinic is now changing its hours. Currently it is open from 630AM to 630PM. Starting December 17th it will close at 530PM. I guess that still leaves guest dosing at Bellevue in Manhattan if I need to go in late. Bellevue is open until 730PM.