All alone again.

MrD just hopped on a JAL flight heading back to Vancouver with a short layover in Narita. I gave him a duty free shopping list to complete there before he heads into JAL's lounge. I am a big fan of the business lounge with its excellent food choices but not such a fan of JAL. They have the old business class seats. They do not recline to a full flat bed so I prefer to stick with Cathay Pacific for the long haul to and from Manila to Vancouver.
Now that MrD has left and all my trophy H obligations are over and done with I can take a little time off. Tomorrow morning I have an early flight. I will spend four days on my favourite island Boracay here in the Philippines. The famous white sand beach is featured in many world guide books as being in the top ten. The white sand is really dead coral and most of the coral around the island is dead already which is a sad but true fact.
I first went to Boracay about 15 years ago when MrD and I were living in Bangkok, Thailand. We came to the Philippines to visit his family. I was just his friend from Canada back then when he introduced me to his relatives. That introduction never changed but hey this is Asia and we don't talk about. Yeah. Yeah. I am over it. Really I am.
Over the year Boracay has become my own private get away destination whenever I am home in the Philippines. Often MrD does not come with me. One he is not a beach person and two he too busy running the empire. I enjoy taking friends or family. My sister was persuaded to leave cold snowy Canada one January. She insisted on frying under the too hot sun so she could show her work mates when she got back. I just frowned my disapproval and watched her turn pink and later peel and flake but she was happy.
Tourists are constantly being propositioned by beach sellers, massage therapists, boat renters, scuba operators and the list goes on and on. To avoid this a bit I had a tee shirt on which I sewed the words "Welang Pera" in bright shiny red sequins. "Welang pera" is Tagalog (Filipino) meaning "No Money". The shirt was a hit and saved me lots of time. Over the years and my maybe 20 visits to the island I always bring this shirt. Many of the local merchants remember me even without the shirt and greet me with, "Welang Pera. Welcome back." I even had more shirts with many different sayings made up and sold them to others there because I was always being asked where I got the cool shirt.
One of my plans for this trip is to take a self portrait for Christmas. I have done this other years and its a fun idea to share with friends snowed in back in Canada.
My last visit to Manila I tried to get to the island but sat in the domestic airport for six hours while a typhoon shut down the island airport. I never did make it that time. But the weather report for tomorrow is good to go. Time to pack up the #50 sunscreen, some trophy H beach wear and of course the "Welang Pera" tee shirt.

A red letter day.

Every year about this time when we are home in Manila it is the custom to give the staff who work in our condo a gift of cash. I am sure this is an Asian thing. I am fairly sure it comes from the Chinese because we are supposed to put the money in a red envelope and the Chinese do love their red.
MrD and I go through the list of 20 or so employees and decide who gets what and who gets more than that. We don't even know all their names so I have to ask for an updated list from the office. Once word gets around that the list has been asked for the attitude of the staff all seem to change. They just become more friendly. This builds up over the few days it takes before the delivery of the red envelopes and always makes me smile. I have no problems with the syrupy hellos or them rushing to press the elevator button for me. I am nicer to people who give me money too.
MrD and I just dropped off the cash downstairs with the receptionist so now we will have a day or two of thank yous and smiles and then things will get back to the way they are for the rest of the year.
It is cheaper than our staff in the office. They get an extra month's pay and a trip out of the country. This week they are all in Vietnam for 4 days.
Now that all the extras are taken care of I can get around to the true meaning of Xmas. Shopping for MrD and lovely gifts for myself the trophy H.
HO HO HO
Happy Holidays.

Advance party preparations in Manila.

This week on Thursday the staff from three of our companies in Manila, Hong Kong and Bangkok are all flying off to meet up in Hanoi, Vietnam for our yearly company holiday. MrD and I do not usually join them because I figured the workers have a better time if the bosses are not around. I seem to remember that was the way I at least felt all those many years ago when I actually had a boss or a real job.
While the cats mice are away MrD has asked me to prepare a party for him this Saturday from 2 - 7 for about 15 "G" guests who are all strangers to each other. The party is to help celebrate his birthday on Dec. 1 when he will be back in Vancouver. I won't be there. I will stay here longer and try to get some R&R on my favourite beach island of Boracay.
I have no problems with party requests. It is all part of what I do as a trophy H. Most of the invites are people I know more than he knows anyway. But I simply will not spend the time slaving in our hot tropical kitchen with this heat even with the air con sucking up the ozone layer.
Being the trophy H that I am I am efficient at planning parties. I have imported smoked Canadian venison, caribou and a couple of kinds of elk along with a few too many blocks and wheels of good old Canadian cheese to add to local tasty bits I can throw together for our guests.
Keep it simple. Keep it tasty and keep it coming is my way of battling the heat on any level.
There is a local farmer's market on Saturday so I can go early and stock up on loads of fresh fruit. The mangoes still warm from the trees are my favourite bites these days but a bit messy for party finger foods. But there is a bounty of good eats out there to satisfy any crowd. I will also pick up an armload of flowers like I normally do on Saturday mornings.
Here in Manila we have a fantastic cleaner Joseph who comes in 5 mornings a week to keep the palace immaculate and up to standards for MrD who some might consider a clean freak. I always head out on morning errands when the cleaner comes to give him all the space to do what ever cleaners do. What he does is beyond me because we really aren't that dirty or disorganised. I did notice he always does things like line up all my spice bottles in neat rows in the cupboard with all the labels facing out. Joseph the cleaning demon also enjoys sorting the kitchen drawers every day so all those spatulas and wooden spoons are in order and facing the same direction. The forks spoons and knives are stacked in perfect lines every morning. Once I came home and Joseph had folded the dirty laundry. But he will be in Hanoi with the rest of our staff from the office and doesn't work weekends anyway.
So glad MrD loves to clean up after parties. We are such a good balance. I cook. He cleans. He makes it. I spend it.
Now where did Joseph file my cheese boards?

Lunch in barong Tagalog with MrD's family.

Every year around MrD's birthday we take his family to the Makati Shangrila for a buffet lunch. Me being the trophy husband in the country that does not mention anything closely related to the "G" word is always seems to be a bit macabre but then I do like that side of things.
I have a wonderful relationship with MrD's family. Over the years I have become godfather to about three or four of the nephews and nieces. The fact that I am not a Catholic does not seem to bother anyone. I did once have to sit through a rather long and nasty pre baptism speech from a Catholic worker who explained to us all that if we committed some kind of sin then when we died and went to hell a giant worm would eat our insides but we would never be consumed. Good news for us atheist/agnostic non Catholics in the room.
Today I got all the guys in the family to wear the barong Tagalog which is the national costume for the discerning Filipino male and trophy h's of same. Traditionally they are made out of fibres from the pineapple plant, woven and embroidered with astounding detail but now artificial materials are mostly used. Office workers wear a cotton version that is not see through. The see through thing must be avoided with a white undershirt which just makes sense anyway when the tropical sun sweats us into oblivion even with the air conditioners wiping out the ozone layer.
I asked a photographer to come and take the family portrait before we went into lunch so if anyone spilt sauce on their shirt it would not matter.
My barong Tagalog was made for me a few years back when MrD's sister got married. I was not asked to be in the family photo way back then and MrD has suffered with my lament about that ever since.
The buffet at the Shangrila is probably the best thing about Manila. No it is the best thing about the world in general. They have whole sections of the large room sectioned off with Japanese, Western, Indian and Filipino foods. The absolute best dish in the restaurant is the flour less chocolate cake that I diet between visits just so I can have a slice and still fit into all those designer outfits I have to wear to make MrD look good.
Buffets in general are a no no but if you can learn to only eat a little then you can manage. It took me some time to go from "all you can eat" to "eat what you need". Practise makes perfect.
Tomorrow night we will take our Manila staff back to the same restaurant and I will have to eat more chocolate cake. How many hours on the treadmill can I log in before then? I really wish I had some talent for bulimia but sticking my finger down my throat does nothing for me.

Keeping my legs up.

One of the perks about living in Asia is private health care. No public service here really.
In Vancouver I went to see a doctor about some nasty non trophy husband spider veins on my left calf. The doctor there could do nothing so he would have to send me to a specialist. The clinic receptionist told me they would set up the appointment and get back to me.
That was in July.
I got a call at the end of October that the appointment would be November 19 at 11am. Well I told the clinic that I was going to be back in Asia then and have the treatment and they could stick their appointment book where that other thermometer goes. Thank you very much.
Yesterday I went to my dermatologist here who has been keeping me looking so young, wrinkle free and trophy hansom for MrD all these years. After he zapped off yet another dot of skin from my forehead (never mind that) I showed him my not so lovely leg and he treated me right then and there with leg vein sclerotherapy.
I paid in Pesos and was out of the office in less than an hour instead of about 6 months that the British Columbia health care system was offering.
Thank you private medical service.
I have a bandaged leg for three days and its over. The doctor told me to keep my legs up. Do you think he was implying anything?

back home in Manila

It might be the jet lag or it might be old age but I have been a mean ugly trophy H to poor MrD. Sarcasm has been rolling off my wrinkeled lips all day. Nothing pleases me.
We cut our stay in Hong Kong short by one day at my request because the hotel bored me, the city bored me, the shopping bored me and the jet lag is driving me nuts.
Back in Manila with temperatures over 30 C. The holiday lights twinkle away in the palm trees in the mall across from our condo.
It was August when I was last here. The longest time I have been away from our tropical home.
I forgot the roses I bought at the Hong Kong flower market at our hotel in HK. They were sitting in water in the marble bathroom. How can you forget two dozen red and white radish roses? At least I have a photo if I have not lost my camera in all this mess. I have not. Just feeling grouchy and sleepy and oh so very tired.
MrD is hiding in his bedroom cringing from my ugly side. Still I am always such a happy camper that this foul mood has some charm. Not much but a little.
And that is all I have to say about the matter.

Jet lagged in Hong Kong

Well the ordeal of flying in a pressurised tin can for 13 hours while crossing the international date line is over and MrD and I have settled our tired bodies into the charming old Peninsula Hotel in Kowloon, Hong Kong.
I did manage to get some sleep on the plane but of course I still have to deal with jet lag. This morning I was up at 3am and went out for a walk in the chilling darkness of this part of such a very crowded city.
MrD was also up and at the computer doing his running the empire thing so off I went on my own with my camera.
It is a bit spooky to see Kowloon so empty because it is usually packed with so many people and things move at a crawl. Not even the newspaper sellers were up yet. A few tired sex workers going home or not and some police out checking IDs.
MrD and I have already decided to condense all our meetings into today and fly out one day early back to Manila. If we are going to suffer jet lag we might just as well do that in our own home rather than in this pretentious and somewhat dated hotel.
So after a quite authentic eggs benedict with one of our Hong Kong employees and some notes here I am preparing for a trip on the MRT to the Hong Kong flower market to shop for blooms to take back home to Manila tomorrow.
Our Hong Kong friends are complaining about the cold temps of 14 or so but it is a wonderful transition for us before the 30 C waiting for us in Manila when we step off the plane tomorrow.

Today is Saturday and tomorrow is Monday.

My day started at 4:30 am. only an hour earlier than I am usually awakened by the sounds of MrD preparing my morning coffee. He does that Monday to Friday and I try and get his coffee made at the weekends. Taking turns.
Busy day packing for tonight's long haul flight to Hong Kong. The flight leaves at 2am Sunday and we arrive in Hong Kong on Monday. There is something slightly disconcerting about traveling east far enough to cross the international date line and you move a day ahead in that flash moment. Happy to remember you get the reverse on the return flight when you travel for about 24 hours and get home before you left on the same day. Confused yet? Then there is jet lag but we don't even want to go there just now.
That part takes some getting used to.
I am a one-carry-on, no-check-in, kind of trophy husband but tonight I am traveling with supplies for MrD's gala events. I have to do some "show" cooking at one event so have a bag full of Canadian delicacies like air dried caribou, elk and venison. I am surely the only client checking in on this Cathay flight with a white cabbage. Just can't find a decent head in Manila contrary to what MrD might imply.
The Filipino culture has a tradition with people who have been abroad and have returned. The returning hero must bring gifts for just about everyone. One bag to check in with all the treats and toys and trinkets and dead animal products. A second bag has all my things needed for our 4 day stopover to rest up in Hong Kong before the short hop down to Manila on Thursday.
I hope to get to the fantastic flower market in Kowloon while in Hong Kong so I can take some orchids back to our place in Manila.
I am also lugging some lovely Canadian art as carry on but more on that later.

I had hoped to make an entry in this blog every day. It might get a little confusing for the next bit with missing a day.
MrD and I are just up in the air here until Monday.
We hope.

Packing up in Vancouver to return home to Manila.

Tomorrow we have to be at the airport around midnight to catch the 2 am flight to Hong Kong where I will spend a few days with MrD visiting our office there and me the middle aged trophy husband doing what comes naturally in Hong Kong like going to the flower market the day before I fly to load up on cheap orchids to take back home to Manila.
This time we are staying in Kowloon instead of on Hong Kong Island in Central. The Peninsula Hong Kong, the old grand dame of the island, is actually in Kowloon and not on Hong Kong Island.
The hotel has the largest fleet of Rolls Royce's in the real world.
We will take the train from the airport. I am not a Rolls fan although it is fun to sit in back and watch MrD pretend not to wave.
Three nights in Hong Kong we have to rest and regenerate from the long 12 hour flight. Then, the short 1 1/2 hour hop down to Manila to put our feet up at home for a bit.
Our return to Asia coincides with MrD's birthday celebrations and our staff outings for three of our Asian companies. Hong Kong, Thailand and the Philippines companies will all gather in Hanoi, Vietnam. MrD and I will see them off but not attend because I figured out they likely have a better time when we are not there. We have joined them in places like Beijing in other years but we try to keep our distance. They are a great...shall I say...team and I love to support them getting out of their shells. It is not just the executives but every employee including the messengers gets to travel.
Enough about the poor team of minions.
MrD and Me?
Normally we each only travel with a small carry on flight bag but MrD has ordered parties to happen and I am the chef so I have raided the larder of Granville Island farmer's market for true Canadian treats like smoked elk, caribou, bison and reindeer and a good selection of local cheese. I am checking in two bags.
I have to make some pizzas for one of the 3 parties we will organise for MrD's family, our Manila staff and some of our inner pinoy circle.
Only one party will be in our place which I fondly refer to as the Palace because the name of our condo building is "The Palisades".
The staff dinner and the family gathering are at different times on different days but at the same 5 star hotel buffet a block away from where we live and also where our office is located.
Asia knows its buffets. This one at the Makati Shangrila has 3 or 4 food stations featuring Japanese, Western, Indian, (the ones with the dots not the feathers) and the tasty filipino treats.
I personally chose this place many years ago for staff and family dinners simply because the dessert chef's flourless chocolate cake is world famous. Once we arrived with a party of 20 only to find out that the cake was not on the offer.
I had a chat with the chef and he offered to go to the kitchen and make one right away to serve our party but I assured him that if it was there every other night I would let him off that one time.
It has always been there since.
When you are old and not doing the desert table like you used to it is understandably important to only eat what you feel you deserve.
I will also visit the famous "Smokey Mountain" city dump with 5,000 homeless scavengers to open the new school we helped build. Our old one got leveled by the bulldozers. It is illegal for us to build anything in the dump.
But we do.
But more on that another day.
Time to pack.

Guten tag it must be Thursday.

Most Thursdays like today, I head over to Vancouver's famous Granville Island to get farmer's market supplies. Thursday is the best day because most of the produce has arrived but not the swarms of tourists the weekend sees.
I usually just take the ferry across but I today with the sun out and all that lovely snow on the mountain tops I got to yodeling and thought it would be fun to get a Porche and a German chauffeur because the drive across the bridge would be fun.
Last month MrD invited our neighbours, a young straight German couple with a charming daughter, over for dinner. MrD always enjoys the company of anyone who speaks more than just English because the great MrD speaks around 30 languages. (Can't say no in any of them. Doesn't do well listening in any of them either. Meow. Meow Meow.)
It turns out Daddy German is the cook in the family. Mama German is the baker and Daughter German is the princess who will only eat macaroni and cheese.
(I made her a separate meal with mac and cheese three ways because I like to entertain divas.)
Since then I have often met with PG (Papa German)to give him cooking instructions. We head out in his grey Carrera 4 to the local farmer's market on Granville and shop for whatever he is cooking for his family that night. I get what I need. Plus a free ride to the market in a sports cars with a hot German driver. How much is this service? Papa German pays MrD and me 125 bucks a month to park his Porche in our parking spot.
So much better than having to buy one I thought.

Now I have to run. I have to plan the outfit for that creamy brown leather interior. Papa German will be ready on time. It is one of the things we all love about the Germans. Even one minute late causes him inner turmoil and he has to relieve his frustration by squealing his tires in those tight dark turns in the garage.
Auf wiedersehen.

Remembering Day

Any excuse to wear a bright red poppy.
I happened to be around the cenotaph this morning near 11am. The streets were all blocked off with thousands of remembering Canadians. Maybe a few more than other years. Aircraft flew overhead in formation. Choirs sang. There was a bugle. Silence. Politicians made speeches. Babies cried. The war went on.
Somewhere a new war was just starting. Must remember to save the poppy for next year.
My father had three brothers who joined up for the second world war. Two were killed in the madness and the other lived to tell us what a great time he had in Europe.
MrD missed the ceremony but did get around to wearing a poppy.

Gettting to know MrD and Me.

OK already I am doing the blogging thang.
Who cares?
I work my manicured fingers to the bone and he won't notice anyway.

...and then just when I was going to pull out my newly blonded hair by what is left of my grey roots he pulled out a jeweller's ring sizing kit and took my ring finger size.
Apparently MrD is designing a ring for our 15th/5th year marriage anniversary next December.

On a more sunny side.
Things are hotting up for this weekend's trip to Asia for the start of 3 gala Christmas/Birthday bashes for MrD.
Our Manila palace in the sky is being transformed by secret pinoy decorating elves even as I type as a surprise for MrD.
Then its sun and sand and massages under the palm trees for me while MrD. returns to Vancouver to prepare for our really big party of the year.
But more on all that later.
Just got a call I have to do publicity shots for my old dear friend the fabulous clown Nion. I know this guys face since 30 years so I hope to get some good shutter noises.
I must go stimulate the economy. I haven't been to Holts all week.
Blah. Blah. Blah. The weather sucks too.