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It has been 5 years since I had a pretty serious stroke. I have been providing annual updates which may assist others.
I feel like I have reached the end of my improvement which leaves me around 60+% normal functionality. I continue to walk about 45 min. daily (with someone by my side) and go to the gym 5 times a week but my balance is still a problem and my right side remains partially paralyzed. The atrophy in my right leg and arm ( I am - was right handed) has wasted away much of the muscle required to walk normal and use my right hand. Still, everything else seems to be working so I can’t complain. I have to take meds for the rest of my life and I watch what I eat and drink. My advice to others is get a blood test and check your blood pressure. A stroke is catastrophic and changes your life forever. And if do survive a stroke, do not give up, life is still good,

 

Sometimes it does work. My neighbor came to the Phils in his early thirties and on his first day in Dgte, straight off the boat, he asked his pedicab driver where he could find a good wife. Pedicab driver dropped him off at his house and introduced him to his niece. They dated for two weeks, but there was just no spark. Driver introduced him to his other niece. She was 19, and poor as. Wasn’t educated. She was selling fish by the roadside. They dated, and now they’ve been married for 39 years, and have three grown kids who are just lovely. And they are still going strong. You don’t have to get an educated woman. You just need to find a loyal one who will stay with you through the bad days.

 

This video has the feel of one of the countless times I have watched some drunken dude in a bar here drone on about nothing interesting. Why give this guy the time of day? He must think he is quite special that I should convince him with reports, spreadsheets, expert testimonials, etc. Especially when he didn't offer anything of the sort himself.

There is nothing controversial about drunken rambling.

I don't know this is quite trolling, but you can see how easy it is to bait people on Facebook.

As for the material.

Yes, poor women seek security from men who can provide for both her and the family. This happens in every country. Once poor women become independent, then the needs change as they work their way up the needs charts. This genius insight was probably discovered back when we were living in caves. Congrats to him for figuring it out.

The U.S. per capita GDP is so large that the Philippines is more the norm than the exception. U.S. income is the outlier, not the Philippines. This disparity follows Americans to the majority of comparisons with random people in this world. People don't need to come to the Philippines to be the rich man among poor women.

Old, white men come here because they can. We like to travel and explore. Even before we learned to walk, we were crawling places and getting into sh*t. When we get here, we feel comfortable.

There are many publications which show Dumaguete as a great retirement location. You won't find prostitution listed among the reasons.

This guy just needs to get back to the bar (or Missouri) and keep his conversations between other drunks rather than broadcasting himself to the world.

 

I arrived at the address and honked the horn. After waiting a few minutes I honked again. Since this was going to be my last ride of my shift I thought about just driving away, but instead I put the car in park and walked up to the door and knocked… “Just a minute,” answered a frail, elderly voice. I could hear something being dragged across the floor.


After a long pause, the door opened. A small woman in her 90’s stood before me. She was wearing a print dress and a pillbox hat with a veil pinned on it, like somebody out of a 1940’s movie.

By her side was a small nylon suitcase. The apartment looked as if no one had lived in it for years. All the furniture was covered with sheets.

There were no clocks on the walls, no knickknacks or utensils on the counters. In the corner was a cardboard box filled with photos and glassware.

“Would you carry my bag out to the car?” she asked. I took the suitcase to the cab, then returned to assist the woman.

She took my arm and we walked slowly toward the curb.

She kept thanking me for my kindness. “It’s nothing”, I told her. “I just try to treat my passengers the way I would want my mother to be treated.”

“Oh, you’re such a good boy,” she said. When we got in the cab, she gave me an address and then asked, “Could you drive through downtown?”

“It’s not the shortest way,” I answered quickly…

“Oh, I don’t mind,” she said. “I’m in no hurry. I’m on my way to a hospice.”

I looked in the rear-view mirror. Her eyes were glistening. “I don’t have any family left,” she continued in a soft voice… “The doctor says I don’t have very long.”

I quietly reached over and shut off the meter.

“What route would you like me to take?” I asked.

For the next two hours, we drove through the city. She showed me the building where she had once worked as an elevator operator.

We drove through the neighborhood where she and her husband had lived when they were newlyweds. She had me pull up in front of a furniture warehouse that had once been a ballroom where she had gone dancing as a girl.

Sometimes she’d ask me to slow in front of a particular building or corner and would sit staring into the darkness, saying nothing.

As the first hint of sun was creasing the horizon, she suddenly said, “I’m tired. Let’s go now.”

We drove in silence to the address she had given me. It was a low building, like a small convalescent home, with a driveway that passed under a portico.

Two orderlies came out to the cab as soon as we pulled up. They were solicitous and intent, watching her every move.They must have been expecting her.

I opened the trunk and took the small suitcase to the door. The woman was already seated in a wheelchair.

“How much do I owe you?” She asked, reaching into her purse.

“Nothing,” I said

“You have to make a living,” she answered.

“There are other passengers,” I responded.

Almost without thinking, I bent and gave her a hug. She held onto me tightly.

“You gave an old woman a little moment of joy,” she said. “Thank you.”

I squeezed her hand, and then walked into the dim morning light.. Behind me, a door shut. It was the sound of the closing of a life…

I didn’t pick up any more passengers that shift. I drove aimlessly lost in thought. For the rest of that day,I could hardly talk. What if that woman had gotten an angry driver, or one who was impatient to end his shift? What if I had refused to take the run, or had honked once, then driven away?

On a quick review, I don’t think that I have done anything more important in my life.

We’re conditioned to think that our lives revolve around great moments.

But great moments often catch us unaware-beautifully wrapped in what others may consider a small one.

 

Please don't paint us all with the same brush. Most of us resident expats here have families and lead normal, law abiding lives. Of course we came here because we can afford a better life here, but my first consideration was my families future. I can afford to send children to school and university here without them having to be burdened with student debt. They can afford their own homes. Of course employment here is a major problem, but if the are well educated, then they can succeed. As for corruption, of course it is overt, whereas in our home countries it is covert. If you think that sex, booze and drugs are the reasons we live here, you need to meet the majority of expats here whom lead lives not too dissimilar to the lives we back home. Many single expats have visited ( pattaya- bangkok ) these places in the past, this is because of broken marriages etc etc. Many are looking for someone to settle down with for the rest of their lives and live a peaceful life. It's easy enough to pick out the arseholes within 30 seconds of conversation. As for all the expat drifters that come here, I have no control over them and do not include them in my circle of friends.

 

As a true-blooded Dumaguetena, born & raised here, I am inclined to agree with all of your observations. Dumaguete has changed, greatly changed from the Dumaguete of my childhood when we used to swim right there in the waters of the boulevard by the sea. The pedicabs then were pedaled, there were more horse-drawn vehicles than motorized ones so pollution was not much of a problem, etc. etc.

But when I tried to go to work in a bigger city like Manila and made a few trips to Cebu, I would always long to go back to Dumaguete. Life is crazier in bigger cities I have made a decision to make Dumaguete as my home. There are a lot of things to be fixed in this city but compared to the hassle and bustle of bigger cities, I am willing to cope and survive.

 

So Mama don't take my Kodachrome away!
Sharing some of my favorite images from last week.

 

I rarely write restaurant reviews. Only if a place is truly dreadful or massively exceeds my expectations can I be bothered.

Biryani Point fits into the latter category. I went there last night because of a friend's recommendation and was more than pleasantly surprised.

Don't be put off by the look of the place. It doesn't look like a place you'd want to eat at, and it certainly isn't going to win any awards for ambience (basically it has none), but if, like me, you're a fan of Indian food, you have to visit this place.

I was brought up on Indian food in London and have visited India and other South Asian countries several times, so I know a good (and bad) curry when I find one. These were delicious and authentic. By no means the best Indian meal I've ever eaten, but considering where we are, it was fantastic.

The owner (from South India) was friendly, welcoming and accommodating.

They don't serve alcohol (Muslim) but the owner kindly allowed us to buy some beer from across the street and drink there.

All-in-all, I was a very satisfied customer and I'll be returning frequenting. If you want some real Indian food I suggest you do too.

If you're wondering where it is, it's almost directly opposite Octagon Sports Bar.