July 17, 2011 In which we bid good-bye to Base Camp and the other trainees

We had the same good breakfast as usual: rice, hot-dogs, eggs fried hard, cucumbers, lettuce, tomatoes, fresh rolls and butter that tastes homemade.

By seven we were on the bus and heading to Bataan with our Filipino Education Specialists, Sam and Christy.

Beautiful rice-paddy and water buffalo countryside in the background with occasional barangays(villages) clustered right up against the road, ramshackle style, like a sloppy clump of little Monopoly houses. Most of the houses are about the size of a one-car garage with an attached veranda about the same size with a roof over it. Sometimes the roof is thatched and sometimes it is corrugated steel. People sleep and eat in this veranda. I saw a little boy still sleeping in the curve of his hammock. A grandmother tending to a baby, a father carrying his child. Families are close and everyone helps everyone- you can easily see that even by just driving past. By the way they smiled and waved it seemed they would have welcomed us right in, too.  

Approaching Manila. Gray, acid haze and high rises. Manila out the window of the bus  wasn't that interesting to me, except for one huge billboard, all green and declaring “I absorb air pollution!” It is covered with plugs of a stiff plant that stuck straight out, like hair implants.

Emerging from Manila and back into clear air and farmers in their rice-paddies and with water buffaloes lounging here and there. Every once in a while I've even seen a yoked water buffalo pulling a cart. I hope to get some experience with that. The land is pretty flat still but we are beginning to see low ridges in the far background.

Bathroom break at a modern gas station. As expected, no toilet paper, no toilet seat and no soap. But there is a little hose afixed to the wall beside the toilet. Think about that. The look on your face is probably like ours. We carry and trade toilet paper and hand sanitizers like legal tender. But I've never been cleaner. Actually, toilet paper is not nearly so clean when you get the hang of this. But secretly, I will always be fond of a toilet seat.

We coach each other through some of these processes. Kind of like explaining to someone exactly how to clean a baby's bottom and change the diaper without benefit of a demonstration. A bonding experience.

Back on the bus.

Heading south into Bataan Peninsula. Christy and Sam stand up and with sad faces tell about the WW II events here. Allied troops were abandoned with no supplies so they called themselves “The fighting Bastards of Bataan” and fought hard, but eventually fell to the Japanese. (The critical supplies were diverted to Europe.)

The Japanese were brutal and instead of using the truck convoys at their disposal, they made the sick and starving men march through the heat for weeks. Civilian Filipinos  would try to help at their great peril. It is fascinating and overwhelmingly morbid and you can google it.

New Mexico had a lot of soldiers here so many families there were touched by this. Every year, in Alamagordo, NM, “The Bataan Death March” marathon is run over White Sands Dessert. New Mexico Military Institute participates and my children had the chance to run.

We drove about ½ hour in a subdued mood, through beautiful countryside with volcanic mountains in the background, shrouded in clouds.