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Live To The Point Of Tears

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Gosh, what a month, what a month.
The above picture is from my FAVORITE comic/graphic quote-book-thing, ‘A Softer World’
Always cheeky, poignant, and reassuring…they used to be in The Coast, which is a free newspaper in Halifax, NS, and I used to cut them out every week. I still have them all tucked away in a box at my moms somewhere.
I found out later you could buy a full-color book version at Strange Adventures comic shoppe, but I found the process of cutting them out and sticking them into an envelope kinda kitsch and wonderful, so.
Yep.

Anywhoo, I guess I have a lot to update you on, so here we go.
I wrote down stuff as it happened to better remember, but it’ll be a bit spotty, my memory has never been great.

On God-knows-what day in Jan, Damon had been drunk for weeks, and I decided enough was enough for me.
I took a Jeepney downtown to Lee Plaza, got a bit of cash out, picked up smokes, and went to Coco Amigos.

I sat there chain smoking and crying, had every intention of sleeping outside, but it was raining and I had forgotten my umbrella. I was half-hoping Damon would show up and take me home but he didn’t. After a while, I was really tired and I just wanted to go home, so I got the last Jeepney back to Valencia and walked back to the house, and slept on the porch.

On the seventh of February, I again packed up and got ray to drive me to Coco’s. I had no money this time, and so I went over to the boardwalk across the street and sat there, smoking.
After a while, I curled up and tried to rest, but kids kept bothering me asking for money and stuff….that’s kinda an annoying part of downtown…..all the kids beg, and I’ve been told that the women sometimes lend their kids out to other homeless/beggar-people so they can have a better haul for the day…..people pity people with kids all around the world, I guess….and they cash in on that fact here.

Anyways, A man and a heavily makeupped Lady stopped eventually and started asking all kinds of questions…I told them my story, told them my visa had been expired since January, etc, and they told me I should go to the Mayor for help in the morning.
After they left, two guys stopped and asked to take my picture.
I was immediately creeped out, wondering why they wanted MY picture, and one guy said he was from Manila for the weekend and so he wanted a picture….My antennas were wiggling furiously, but let them take one..

After they left, the group of kids that had been hanging around told me to call the police because I was going to get taken.
I asked them if they meant kidnapped, and they said yes……so I didn’t know if they knew much English, and I don’t know if that’s what they really meant, but I went to Coco Amigos, and got them to call the police.

They eventually got there, and I told them I was pretty much homeless and my visa was expired….everyone was super nice, and they let me smoke….They took me to the copshop, let me use the computer, gave me hot chocolate….I answered questions and gave all my info and stuff….and then we basically just talked about our two countries, Canada and the Philippines, talked about jobs, food, education, etc until I got tired.

I slept in a bench in a back office, and the next morning it was kinda super rainy.
The day started a bit hectic, they were trying to figure out what to do with me.

We went to see a social worker in Valencia, who gave me P200 for food, but said there was pretty much nothing she could do for me because I had no money or tickets to get home to Canada, and they had no money either.

We went to the Immigration office, and they said I had to update my visa and obtain an exit clearance just to leave, and that they couldn’t help either. I asked about deportation, but since I hadn’t done anything wrong, they said it’d be impossible, and that it takes months anyway.

One of the Female officers bought me lunch at a little cafe and we had a bit of a chat, she told me she’s dating a female judge in Ontario, she showed me pictures, and talked about Canadian money, I pointed out that the toonie and the ten peso looks similar to each other and stuff, it was a really nice break from the stress of the past few days.

After a few hours of head scratching, I was taken to la Casa Esperanza, which is a crisis center for women and children in Dumaguete city. I was told I would be able to stay until Monday, this day being Saturday.

I was shown around, read the rules, and shown to my room, which I shared with a woman and her baby, and a little girl.
It wasn’t really all that different from being at Adsum House, which is a shelter for women in Halifax that I have lived at quite a few times in the past.

My stay was fine, all the girls tried to teach me Tagalog, and I managed to remember a few….I now know shark, water, plate, dog, cat, eyes, and bat…and I have a list of other stuff that I’ve yet to memorize.
I had to beg for coffee and to be able to smoke cigarettes outside out of sight, which had me a bit stressed out for a few days, but I got through it.

On Monday, I heard nothing, then on Wednesday I got really homesick, so I asked them if I could go back to the house and see if things were any better, to try to make peace and stuff.
Two officers and a counselor took me back to the house, and right away I could tell Damon hadn’t even stopped drinking at all.
I spent two days at the house before I figured everything was royally effed, and so I went to the Valencia police station, and told them I wanted to contact the Canadian Embassy about going home.

They cleaned up a little nippa hut on the property and told me I could sleep in it while we got everything straightened out.

It was awesome watching how fast they cleaned and fixed the hut, it was a wreck before I got there, and a team of about six or seven guys zipped around and put a tarp on the roof and all that.
So I lived there for about a week and a half, then Damon sent me a stupid message on Facebook saying my Lush package had arrived….I paid a lot of money for it and so I went back to the house to get it.

Stupid fucking idea.
Damon was sitting in my pajama pants, all contrite and resolved and told me he had stopped drinking and he didn’t want to drink anymore and it was too inconvenient and blah blah blah blah blah, long story short, I decided to give him yet another goddamned chance, and he lasted a week.
As SOON as his mother left for her job, he picked up a bottle and started in on me yet again.

I’m now back living in the hut at the police station, trying to get the Canadian embassy to help me, and being very hungry and frustrated and tired and depressed and suicidal and pretty much the lowest I can currently be.

Donations would sincerely be appreciated at this point.

The Bloody End for now.

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Posted by on March 7, 2014 in Uncategorized

 

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Keeping Regular – Good for the System

Well, I almost didn’t write a new post today…no news is usually good news, but I suppose being the author of a bloggity…no news is bad views?

So I suppose I shall talk today about driving on the Scoopy.

Way back in the day, when I was a little youngster, I thought it would be awesome to get my driver’s license… a personal milestone of life-changing grandeur, opening a whole new world of opportunities and greatness. I couldn’t wait to turn sixteen and buy a cheap rust-bucket to call my own.
As sixteen got closer and closer to becoming a reality, I realized that having a car was highly overrated, way too expensive, and much more work than I was willing to put in, and in the end, I never ended up getting my license.

When I moved out to the Philippines at first, the roads and traffic terrified me… the people here are insane on the road, and rivaled only by Montreal, in my mind.
My husby Damon told me I would get used to it, and that while it looks chaotic and dangerous, there actually is somewhat of a method for driving here. I thought he was just as insane as the rest, especially after telling me that when he’s alone on the bike, he drifts around corners and reaches speeds of over eighty without a helmet… Can you say potential street pizza???

Eventually though, after about four months of my being here, I got the driving itch. One day when there was nothing going on and I was ready to crawl out of my own skin at the boredom I was feeling, I decided to hop on the bike and go for a spin.

Previous to this, my only experience with the bike was being on the back with him, and one teensy instance of driving it from the Sari-sari to our house…a grand, majestic total of about a two-minute trip down the driveway.
I had never driven a car in my life, let alone a scooter, which is what we own.

So the day I drove alone, I went up the mountain… Deciding that since I hadn’t been up that way yet after months of asking Damon to take me, I’d just go right ahead and take my damn self.

I have to say, it was a lovely drive, the flowers, trees and various plant life here are all breathtaking, not to mention the scenic views of the city from the mountainside.
I could feel the local people all staring at me, and a few tried to get my attention, or said hello as I drove past… but being a foreigner here, it’s getting to be a normal thing for me to experience.

I almost drove myself off the road trying to avoid a baby chicken, and at one point I was stopped by a large herd of goats, but other than that, the ride up was smooth and beautiful.
I found what looks to be a park, that I want to investigate further, and I saw an old Lady sweeping grass clippings off the side of the road. I took the time to appreciate and admire her work, the way the freshly swept soil looked richer and darker for her doing so…

The way back home was a bit frustrating, I definitely got lost, and got a few smirks from people as I passed them more than three times trying to find my way…
I decided at one point to stop and ask for directions, and realized as soon as I did that I was on my own darn street.

I got home just before the tank ran dry, and decided I think I may very well fancy this driving stuff… I can’t wait to go out and adventure again…next time, I’ll remember to bring my camera.

SAM_0192

 
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Posted by on September 18, 2013 in Uncategorized

 

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Reading is cheap – Writing saves – And ‘rithmetic is for frugal farts

I suppose in this post, I should tell you more about me, and how I ended up living in the Philippines.

Like I mentioned in my first post, I was living in Canada… and I have to say, for a country that boasts a reputation for being free, tolerant, and full of opportunity… my quality of life was terrible.
Job turnover is a nightmare, minimum wage is the standard rate of pay for most work, excruciating rent prices and utility costs are the norm, food is low in quality and high in cost, the people are hypocritical and attracted to drama, and the overall morale of the entire country, while presented to the globe as high, realistically, is lower than I’ve ever seen it before.

I had been from one end of the country to another last summer, in a last-bid attempt to regain control over my reality.
I had always wanted to hitch hike, so I packed my things up, and set out for the west coast of Canada.
While the trip was definitely fun, showing me lots of new things and giving me the sense of adventure and independence I had craved for a long time, it was slow-going, exhausting and sometimes terrifying, as well as downright freezing at night time.

Eventually though, I ended up in Alberta. I worked there for a while, until it became the same old story… a mind full of shambles, and a life full of chaos. I went back on disability, and tried again to pull my life together with the wonderfully generous help and shelter of two awesome chicks I met through mutual friends. 

Throughout all of this, there was a man whom I had met online, also through mutual friends, that I occasionally spoke to, over a period of two years.
His name is Damon Flint, and he was (( and still is )) the damn coolest guy I had ever heard about in my life.
Everyone’s stories about him were outrageous, larger than life, and hilariously genuine. 
Whenever I spoke to him, my life would brighten, and for those moments, I felt like I could take on the world in my own ass-kicking, brassy kind of way. 
While in NS and Alberta, we started speaking much more regularly, and it got to the point where we would Skype every single day… Both of our sleep schedules became so erratic it was silly.

While living with those two awesome Ladies, Damon and I decided we wanted to be together enough to make it a reality, and so I worked on getting a passport. It took about a month, but after it arrived, he and his mother booked the plane ticket immediately, and a day later, I was on my way.

It has been a sensational journey, and I am very lucky to have found a man so caring and loving as he is. 
I appreciate every day that not only are we together, but we get to spend the rest of our days in paradise. 

And now you know a bit more about me!

 

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Posted by on September 17, 2013 in Uncategorized

 

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