Filipino Lessons Learned

For those that don’t know, May is Asian American Pacific Islander Heritage Month. It’s a month for our nation to reflect on how Asians and Pacific Islander, including Native Hawaiians played an important part in the history of the United States. 

I could probably go on about how Chinese Immigrants pretty much built the Transcontinental Railroad. Or how Filipino American farmers in California were the first to walk off the grape fields, prompting the beginning of the Delano Grape Strike led by Cezar Chavez.1   

I can even remind everyone that Filipinos were the first Asians ever to set foot in the Americas. Most are told that the first colony in the United States was founded at Jamestown, Virginia, in 1607 by English settlers. However 20 years prior to this, on October 18, 1587, Filipino sailors working on a Spanish ship arrived to what is now known as Morro Bay, California.


IF LIFE GIVES YOU MELONS, YOU MIGHT BE DYSLEXIC

The story I choose to tell today is one that many of my Filipino American may be aware of, but do not know much about it. After all, I had only known tidbits of it until our recent trip to New Orleans, Louisiana.

When I was in high school, I was at a party for one of my many distantly related Tita’s from my Dad’s side of my family. At that party was a cousin twice removed of my 5th aunt’s husband’s sister’s daughter’s son – oh who am I kidding … we’re all related somehow, aren’t we? Seriously though, I was speaking with a cousin of one of my cousin’s who lived in Mississippi. For some reason, we ended up talking about where many of the Filipino Communities are in North America. In the Metro Detroit area today, I’d say Bloomfield Hills, Sterling Heights, and Canton. This cousin mentioned cities in his area, but also mentioned that New Orleans had the largest Filipino Communities because that’s where the first Filipinos settled in North America.

To hear this information was a surprise for me. I always thought that it would be California or even New York, as that’s where most of my Gen-X friends’ parents or grandparents came into the US. Since then, I wanted to learn more about this. However, at that time, research involved things called encyclopedias or microfiches. It involved finding books utilizing the Dewey Decimal System after finding books by subject or author in things called card catalogues.2


THE EARLY BIRD CATCHES THE WORM …
BUT THE SECOND MOUSE GETS THE CHEESE

When our travels as Eclipse Chasers took us south to Arkansas this past April, Hubby and I decided to knock off a few more States on our quest to visit all 50 States and Louisiana was one of them. Both of us had been to New Orleans separately for work, but never together and not long enough to enjoy the city. I planned for us to stay three nights there, just so we can enjoy Crescent City at our leisure. While planning, I wanted to see if I could visit the area where the first Filipinos settled. Now that Google existed, I was able to find much more information about my heritage. And the first thing I found was astounding. 

Not only was New Orleans – or rather southern Louisiana – the first settlement of Filipinos in the Americas, but these Filipinos were one of the very first Asian American settlements in the Americas. Imagine that!


WHEN THE CAT’S AWAY, THE MICE WILL PLAY

So, here’s the story. Close to two centuries after that first landing in Morro Bay, Filipino sailors – again enslaved by Spain grew tired of their abuse and deserted the ships. They hid in the marshlands of Louisiana and eventually settled into a bayou about 30 miles southeast of New Orleans. The area was isolated, prone to storms and mosquito infested (much like many rural areas in the Philippines), but it was a perfect place to hide from the Spainards. They eventually became known as the Manilamen.

Along with other enslaved people and other people of color, the Manilamen built a small fishing village they called Saint Malo. They built small houses of wood and palmetto fronds on stilts, much like nipa huts or bahay kubo homes in the Philippines. They became skilled fishermen, as the lands – deeper into the wetlands than most were willing to travel or work, proved fertile for fish in the spring, shrimp in the summer, and oysters in the fall.

As fisherman, the Manilamen contributed to the local seafood industry (and eventually the entire region) to make Louisiana one of the largest exporters of shrimp nationwide. First, they used our methods of drying shrimp and smoking fish (tinapa!) to preserve food before the invention of refrigeration. Then the Manilamen revolutionized the shrimp drying industry by utilizing a method used in the Philippines to speed up the process of separating shrimp shells from its meat. This method, known as “Dancing the Shrimp,” did this by dancing and stomping on piles of shrimp in a circular motion. This made Saint Malo a wholesale market for local sea merchants. In later years, Filipinos in Louisiana thrived were well-known in the industry and eventually several shrimping facilities came to use the same method. 


YOU CAN’T JUDGE A BOOK BY ITS COVER,
BUT YOU CAN JUDGE A PERSON BY THEIR SHOES

Because of its remote location and prime fishing spot, Saint Malo was often a port of departure for tourists wanting to go fishing further south into the shores towards the Gulf of Mexico. Though many local New Orleanians knew of the Manilamen, there was not much documented about them. 

However, stories in New Orleans about them – most of them folk lore — existed. It’s been mentioned in letters and journals that the Manilamen of Saint Malo were uncivilized and that the living conditions were uninhabitable. That there was no governance in their society – police, courts, laws, for example. The Manilamen were said to be savages as the village was made up of only tribal men. They had been described as prehistoric savages that despised women and would do great harm to any female they encountered. While it was true that the village was originally all Filipino men – as slaves from the Spanish ships that they fled from, the Manilamen did have wives and children. As they became more integrated with their local society, they would marry and raise families in New Orleans while staying at Saint Malo to work during the week.

Because of racist immigration laws such as the Nationality Act of 1790, Asian women were not allowed entry into the United States. In addition, there were racist laws that prohibited marriage between white and non-white people. And so the Manilamen instead married women from other communities of color. Many married into nearby Isleño, Cajun, and indigenous communities.


THE COCONUT DOES NOT FALL FAR FROM THE TREE

In the late 1800’s on the southern end of Louisiana, another group of Filipino fishermen and sailors lead by local fisherman Quintin de la Cruz, established Manila Village. It was one of several Filipino shrimp drying facilities in the area which also housed the workers and their families in nipa huts or bahay kubo homes around the edges of the shrimp drying platforms. Not far from Manila Village, a smaller version of Manila Village was built by a group of Filipinos led by John (Juan Roxas) Rojas called Clark Cheniere.

By the 1930’s the shrimp drying industry had reached their peak and improved methods of canning and refrigeration meant less manual labor was needed. In addition, storms were always a constant threat to the area which drove many families to higher grounds. Saint Malo was destroyed during the New Orleans Hurricane of 1915. A storm in 1947 destroyed most of Manila Village and in 1965, Hurricane Betsy flattened the entire village. Though not confirmed, I believe Clark Cheniere may have been destroyed during the same hurricane. 


BETTER LATE THAN NEVER, BUT NEVER LATE IS BETTER

So this is how on a hot April day, Hubby and I ended up at the Los Isleños Museum Complex in St Bernard LA, standing next to the historic marker for Saint Malo. After a lot of research on the interwebs, I stumbled upon the Filipino LA website which helps make the stories of Filipino Louisiana available to the public. This then led to finding about about Saint Malo, the Manilamen, and Manila Village. Further research led me to Louisiana State Markers and their locations. While Saint Malo no longer exists, a marker was set up in St Bernard Parish closest to where Saint Malo would have been.3

There are two other markers for Manila Village and Clark Cheniere located on Manila Plaza in front of Jean Lafitte Town Hall in Jefferson Parish. I wish we had more time, but we couldn’t drive to both locations within the time frame that we were in New Orleans. 


WHEN LIFE GIVES YOU LEMONS, MAKE CALAMANSI JUICE

While in New Orleans proper, we did make a visit to the NPS French Quarter Visitor Center. The displays went through the history of New Orleans and how it became an important port of call in the trade industry. They talked about the lands and the population and its indigenous population. It also spoke of its Creole, Spanish, and French history … but no mention of any Filipino history.

Strange, I thought. Especially since the research I did indicated that Filipinos played a huge part of the New Orleans and Louisiana history. Of course I had to ask one of the park rangers about this. To my surprise, they were well aware of the history of the Maniliamen and Manila Village. Both park rangers talked about how they used to have a huge display about the Filipino contributions to the region. They even talked about the “Dancing the Shrimp” method and the houses on stilts.  Apparently a few years back, they revamped the displays in that visitor center and most of the Filipino displays were removed.

Reflecting on it now, the markers for Manila Village and Clark Cheniere were close to the NPS Bataria Preserve within the Jean Lafitte National Historic Park & Preserve. This would have probably taken us closer to where the villages were at. And perhaps this visitor center would’ve had more information about Filipinos in Louisiana. Maybe on another trip we will get down there to visit it. D’oh!


IF THE SHOE FITS, WEAR IT

If you are Filipino and are ever in The Big Easy, Crescent City, NOLA, Nawlins, Birthplace of Jazz, or any other name you’d like to call New Orleans, I highly recommend checking these places out. There isn’t much to see, but knowing that your ancestors had been one of the first Asian Americans to settle in the Americas at that location is pretty damn cool.


PS. Hope you enjoyed the titles of each section 😂 Most of my Filipino American friends would know that these are phrases many of our parents have used on us in the past

  1. Only after being prompted by the Filipino Union Leader that led the first strike, Larry Itliong ↩︎
  2. Basically it was way before the advent of the internet and AOL or AltaVista or AskJeeves. If you don’t know any of those search engines then you are definitely Gen-Y ↩︎
  3. Of note, Islenos are descendents of colonists of Spanish Louisiana between 1778 and 1783 who were primarly from the Canary Islands and intermarried with other communities such as Filipinos, French, Creoles, and Hispanic Americans. This is why the Saint Malo marker is at the Los Islenos Museum Complex. ↩︎

Hello Darkness, My Old Friend

Wow. That sounds melodramatic, doesn’t it? Sorry to disappoint, but this isn’t a post where I get incredibly morose about some blah blah blah … 

Nah, this is just one of those ones where I brag about what I’ve been up to or where The Ohana has been. 

By the way, I started calling Hubby & I and our kiddos “The Ohana” a few years back after adding Kirby into our lives. He is, after all … our son. He may have four paws, lots of fur, and can only speak in beagle-tongue, but he’s ours to nurture and protect. 

This October, we added Kira to The Ohana. She’s a senior beagle-greyhound mix we rescued from I Heart Dogs Rescue and Animal Haven in Warren MI. 

OHANA MEANS FAMILY

We had talked about adopting another dog, but since being turned down a few years ago, I was pretty gun shy about trying to adopt again. I mean … talk about being an infertile, who couldn’t have kids, decided against adoption because of the fear of failure from a not being able to have kids PLUS feeling even more of a loss from the devastating failure of IVF … imagine being rejected by a rescue group by trying to adopt A DOG. Yes … that’s why it took a while to want to try to rescue again. 

Kirby’s adoption story is pretty short. He was rescued from a high-kill shelter in Ohio and brought to the Animal Welfare Society of Southeastern Michigan located in Madison Heights MI. After a month of looking on Petfinder for that perfect beagle, we found him and the very next day was at the rescue shelter right when it opened. We took one look at the cutest 1 year old, 15 lb beagle-Jack Russell Terrier (we think) mix; and — with one little wag of the tail, he won our hearts and has been with us now for 10 years. He’s turning silver in a lot of areas and is slowing down a but, but he is both as sweet and as charming as the first day we took him home. 

Kira’s adoption story, was a little more heartbreaking. She was found by Warren Police one night wandering the streets and brought into the rescue group. The police felt that their city pound was no place for an older dog and begged I Heart Dogs Rescue and Animal Haven to take her in. So they did, even though they were overfilled and had a waitlist for families wanting to surrender their pets due to financial situation, etc. The next day, one of the volunteers saw Kira and mentioned that a man & woman came in wanting to surrender this same pet about a week ago because his elderly father was moving somewhere where he couldn’t take pets and they couldn’t find a home for her. Unfortunately they left without even putting their names on a waitlist. 

We only heard that story AFTER we met her as an Ohana. While Kirby sniffed and basically ignored Kira for the rest of the time, at least he didn’t bite, bark, or bear his teeth. So yeah, after hearing that story, we knew we had to take Kira home. It took a while for the two of them to get used to each other – Kirby still is very protective of his food and toys and Kira is always wanting to be the center of attention — they have both decided they can live and sleep next to each other in harmony. As much as two 11-year old dogs with personalities of perpetual 3-year old siblings would. SO curious. SO stubborn. SO. Frickin. Adorable. 

NO ONE GETS LEFT BEHIND

Anyway, back to the “Darkness” and the “Old Friend.” Since adopting Kirby, The Ohana had stopped doing vacations that required putting Kirby in the care of someone else. Therefore, we’ve been doing a lot of road-trips around North America. We started out small … Northern MI including the UP, Toronto & London Ontario, etc. And then we started doing more; the first major one in 2017 when we drove cross-country from Detroit to Santa Monica, getting on & off Route 66 and heading back by way of Yellowstone, Mt Rushmore and Chicago. On that trip is when we bought a US National Park Passport Book and decided we would try to go to as many National Parks and Historic Sites as we could. To date, we have been to 23 of the 63 US National Parks and are hoping to see all of the ones in the Continental US.

This brings me to the title of this post. I am currently sitting in a hotel room in Hot Springs Arkansas. “Why?,” you may ask. Well, for a few reasons. 1) We are hoping to hit every US State (with or without the pups), which we’re actually down to 2 after this trip. 2) We have an opportunity to get a US National Park Passport Stamp from Hot Springs National Park. And, 3) the 2024 Total Solar Eclipse. 

I FELL INTO A BURNING RING OF FIRE

Yeah, I know. We went with the hype. But to be fair … this is actually the SECOND time we drove to see a Total Solar Eclipse. A couple weeks before the 2017 Nashville Eclipse, Hubby & I thought, “Well, we’ve never been to Nashville, so … hey, why not?” Plus, Hubby got me a Canon E80D camera for my birthday that year and we thought it would be fun to try it out on something we’d see probably only once in our lifetime. 

Or so we thought. 

After seeing that Total Solar Eclipse, we were hooked. It was pretty amazing to watch how the whole landscape changed from a bright, warm sky to a “quick sunset” to midnight and then back to day in a matter of minutes. It was eerie to watch the shadows of the trees and of people switch quickly from one side to the other and then back again. Strange to hear birds peeping one minute, then a brief silence and then crickets chirping. Basically we were wonderstruck. The totality lasted only 1 minute and 56 seconds, but — since I was trying to take as many pictures as I could — it seemed like it was only seconds. Thank goodness for remote shutters, so I could at least see the Ring of Fire with my own two eyes! 

I WENT DOWN, DOWN, DOWN

Driving home on that trip, Hubby & I were already planning for the next Total Solar Eclipse for 2024, which seemed AGES away. Where would we see it? Did we want to go somewhere warm (it would be in April after all; Michigan springs are fickle) or did we want to go somewhere warmer? I can tell you this, by 2022 I was already reserving an AirBNB in Cleveland on Lake Erie so we’d at least have one place just in case. 

Obviously we decided on Hot Springs National Park for the above reasons and last year around this time I was booking hotel rooms for this trip. I ended up settling for a hotel in Maumelle, Arkansas, a town on the outskirts of Little Rock and about an hour north of Hot Springs. And after seeing the area around Hot Springs Village, I am glad I chose Maumelle. The city is spread out and not too crowded. The best feature, though, was a small park in front of the Arkansas River directly behind the hotel I booked. That’s where where The Ohana and maybe less than 75 people witnessed the eclipse. 

In Nashville, I was able to take photos of the all the stages of the eclipse; which included photos of Bailey’s Beads, the Corona, and the “Diamond Ring.” (Click HERE to see a collage of the shots I took in one photo.) We had bought the right filter for my lens and prepped ourselves thoroughly on how to set up the camera and when to leave or remove the filter to take the best photos. We even had all the manual settings down to a tee. I was SO ecstatic when I saw how the pictures turned out. They weren’t as sharp as they could have been, but afterwards, I found out that there was a small amount of unexpected cloud coverage that came in while we were in the totality stage. Nonetheless, I was proud I was able to get those photos. 

This year I would know what to do better, after all we were “eclipse chasers” and now had experience taking photos. What could go wrong? 

AND THE FLAMES WENT HIGHER

Well for starters, I realized when we were at the point of no return, that I forgot our tripod at home. This meant going to a local Big Box store in Maumelle when we arrived. Then, while getting my camera ready the night before and getting reacquainted with settings and tips (read: Google tips), I realized I forgot the correct filter in order to take shots during the the partial eclipse stages.1 This meant that being able to focus on the actual “subject” (aka THE SUN) couldn’t be done until the total eclipse stage occurred. Which was fine, because really … that — The Ring of Fire was the money shot I really wanted. 

So with settings in place, same camera from last time on new cheap Big Box tripod, and more Totality Time than last (3 min, 37 sec), I thought … okay, I got this. But woh, those almost 4 minutes flew by. Especially since I thought the picture wasn’t in focus. Or that the photo was going to be too dark. Or worse, too light. Did the flash go off? What the frick’n frack? Turn to Hubby, “Take a photo with your iPhone NOW! I’m not getting it!” And finally, “Wow, that’s spectacular! Dang Nabbit! I didn’t capture it on film!”

Cue sound: wah wah waaaaah

AND IT BURN, BURN, BURNS

It WAS indeed, spectacular. It was so much brighter than the 2017 Total Solar Eclipse. The Ring of Fire was much larger that I remember from almost 7 years ago. I had read somewhere — or maybe heard (it’s hard to remember with all the coverage leading up to the event) that this eclipse was supposed to be brighter than usual. Something about how solar flares were less active in 2017 and that this year, the sun was closer to earth and solar flare activity was at its maximum. I kinda poo-poo’d that, but when looking at it, I thought about that fact and wondered if that was why the Ring of Fire was so breath-taking. 

I was so angry at myself that I wasn’t able to catch that moment. So mad that I didn’t even want to look at previews of the photos on my camera. Even after we retuned to the hotel later that afternoon, I refused to transfer the photos to iCloud. Finally, I got curious when the thought of comparing the 2017 and 2024 eclipse got the best of me. 

THE RING OF FIRE

While the photos were transferring to iCloud, I pulled up the photos from 2017 and specifically the Ring of Fire from that eclipse. Right off the bat, I was shocked. It was nowhere near as amaze-balls as the one I just observed. Beautiful, yes. And still a little fuzzy from the small amount of unexpected cloud coverage, but it was still as beautiful as I remembered. Just not brilliant as the one we just witnessed.

Now I was reeaaalllly mad and prayed to the powers that be that I got at least ONE good photo. I’d even settle for a blurry one, but I just wanted one that showed how bright it was. And then I saw these photos:


Followed by THIS photo:

2024 Total Solar Eclipse, Little Rock AR

Not just Brilliant. Brilliant like a DIAMOND — a HALO of sorts.

Thank you all that is Good in the world, thank you Angels above!! By pure chance, I managed to get — not just this photo, but a few other ones … followed by about  dozen blurred ones. But I got it. I got Johnny Cash’s Ring of Fire. 

Just for comparison, this is the Ring of Fire shot I was able to get in Nashville.

2017 Total Solar Eclipse, Nashville:
A little fuzzy from the small amount of unexpected cloud coverage

THE RING OF FIRE

Now I can leave Hot Springs AR, having checked off another State off of our list. Plus we added another  Stamp in our National Park Passport book, since we (read: me) drank some water fed directly from the Hot Springs. Unfortunately we were unable to actually have a “bath” (read: sit in hot spring-fed pool) in one of the natural spring bath houses.2*

Next up on this road trip is NOLA. Hubby & I have both been there, but separately and for work. So this will be the first time for us together as an Ohana. Then it’s through Mississippi and Alabama, knocking a total of 4 more States off of our list. Only two States left after that! (We’re now looking at you, Montana and, surprisingly, Wisconsin — WTF?)

Hopefully more to post on the road. But don’t hold your breath! LOL

  1. Similar to human eyes, camera lenses can get damaged by directly being pointed at the sun ↩︎
  2. Note to self: Don’t expect sit in a hot spring-fed pool or get a hot-spring spa massage on Tuesdays at the Quapaw Bath House. They’re closed. Unless you want to go the the Buckstaff Bath House which still operates as an old school bath house and separates Men & Women into different pools.  ↩︎

News from the Hospital Front: When You Wish Upon A Star

I hear you, people. I understand how hard it is to work from home or to provide some sort of semblance of school to your children. I also know how difficult it is to be unemployed (believe me, I found myself unexpectedly unemployed during the summer of 2010) and yet still have bills to pay.

I am also bored as h*ll staying at home (although, my cooking may have improved a bit) and am chomping at the bit to go out. As it is, DH, Kirby Krackel, and I were scheduled to be on vacation this past week and the upcoming week. Two whole weeks off to make a road trip out to the Utah National Parks. Sadly, it wasn’t meant to be. Due to this stupid COVID-19 crisis.

But what I don’t understand is why other states are loosening up the restrictions on staying at home and are beginning to open non-essential businesses in the wake of this crisis … which is FAR from over, despite what you may be reading and/or hearing in the news. For those that disagree with me, I invite you to tour the ER and spend a 12-hour shift in the ICU.

I don’t wish it upon you or any of your loved ones, but I wish you could understand what it’s like to have experienced having COVID-19; the feeling of isolation and helplessness that comes from keeping your distance from loved ones so that you don’t give COVID-19 to them.

I don’t wish it upon anyone to experience the extreme chills despite high temps, the worse muscle aches in the world. And yet, as a Registered Nurse, knowing that you NEED your body to react this way because it’s your body’s way of trying to fight off the virus on its own. And in the same vein, fearing that your body may overreact and cause severe respiratory distress that you need to be admitted to the hospital.

I don’t wish it upon you, but I wish you could feel what it’s like to watch via FaceTime the panic in your spouse’s face as you see him struggling to breathe with a mask blowing 100% pure oxygen directly through his mouth & nose … while he barely is able to tell me that he still feels like he can’t take a breath. Or the panic you feel that, as a wife and as a Registered Nurse:

  1. You can’t be there to physically hold his hand to help calm him down
  2. You know his assigned RN is busy with her other patient that is being intubated, and
  3. You fear that he’ll be the next one they’ll place on a vent.

I don’t wish it upon you, but I wish you could experience the red taped bureaucracy involved in trying to seek appropriate treatment, while also trying to follow the guidelines put in place … Only to have those guidelines change from day to day, hour to hour.

Or the fact that, as an essential worker, how difficult it has been to even get tested for COVID-19, knowing that your positive test result can be added to the data being collected during this pandemic.

I don’t wish it upon you, but I wish you knew what it’s like to love your career and be good at it, yet are hesitant to go into work each day for fear of what might happen on your shift.

Or what it’s like to force yourself to take a few deep, calming breaths before pushing back your unit’s door, labeled with a temporary sign that reads “Isolation Unit. Keep Doors Closed.”

Or how every day you greet your co-workers with, “Wonder what fresh hell we’ll get ourselves into today.”

Or how much of a struggle it is to remember what the latest protocol is for each specific task you have on your daily assignment. And what it’s like to worry that if you don’t follow these ever-changing guidelines, then you’d miss something life-threateningly important.

Most importantly, I don’t wish it upon you, but I wish you could recognize that what is happening at the patient’s bedside and on these units are occurring at a lightning fast pace. So fast in fact, that the *actual* news reported on a daily basis is often times a week or two behind.

  • Lack of testing? Called it.
  • Lack of PPE not just for the hospital, but other care facilities including nursing homes? Called that, too. Hydroxychloroquine ousted as “The Miracle Drug”? Uh huh … and I’m waiting for the news to report on how Remdesivir is only effective within 1-4 days of when the patient actually developed symptoms.

I don’t expect you to *understand* what my experiences have been like with COVID-19. However, I am simply asking you to see the reasons why Michigan’s government placed these “Stay At Home” restrictions in place.

While COVID-19 may not have affected you or your loved ones directly, it HAS affected the 50K Michiganders who tested positive for COVID-19 (which is significantly less that the actual, as many people were denied testing … myself included).

Or the families of the 5K Michiganders who DIED from COVID-19 related complications.

What I DO wish upon you is this: I implore you to consider the reasons why I believe it’s too early to “reopen” the country.

How can we reopen when we don’t have adequate testing to confirm exactly how many people have COVID-19?

How can we #SlowTheSpread when we aren’t even sure who has the virus or not … especially when there are countless of people that are NOT showing any symptoms? Those countless people would then unknowingly spread COVID-19 to at least 5 to 6 other individuals that can also remain asymptomatic.

How can we allow businesses, restaurants, retail shops to open when we don’t even have the appropriate leadership in place to set realistic guidelines on how to control the spread of this highly contagious virus?

How can we “reopen” when we don’t have a secure plan in place to keep the curve flattened?

How do we not learn from other countries that have reopened “too soon” and now have shown a resurgence in COVID-19 cases? Like South Korea, who loosen some social distancing restrictions early this month; or the Wuhan Province of China, where new cases popped up after at least 35 days without any new ones.

How can we believe that with “common sense” we can “go back to life as it was” … when “as it was” WAS. NOT. ENOUGH. to control this COVID-19 Pandemic? And that the thought of “we could catch the virus or any other virus” is merely considered a risk?

Sure we take risks every day, but that’s a CHOICE that each individual makes … of which that risk, if you usecommon sense,” should then be limited to your own outcomes. “Common sense” would dictate that any risk taken should avoid endangering others. Unfortunately, if you CHOOSE to take the risk of going out into public without applying social-distancing and without wearing a protective face mask … you certainly are NOT using “common sense.” In fact you would be putting an entire community at risk.

It’s unhealthy to think that by staying “closed,” our economy will crumble. It’s also egotistical to think that if the US Economy collapses, then every other economy will collapse worldwide. How can we think that the economy … the “almighty dollar” (or in this case “liquid assets”) is worth more than a life?

Let me clarify by saying that I DO want the country to reopen. I DO want our economy to be stable. I DO want those unemployed by this crisis to be be able to go back to work. I would certainly love to go out to restaurants again. And take that Road Trip we had planned for the beginning of this month.

What I DON’T want is to see an increase in hospitalizations for COVID-19 related issues. Because the more COVID-19 cases seen in the hospital means that the more resources will be reallocated to treating these patients.

This means that elective surgeries (the money maker for any hospital system) will be placed on hold (again), resulting in less revenue. Then the (non-frontline) Hospital Executives will continue to believe that they have “too many employee salaries to pay”, which would then lead to more furloughs and job eliminations.

This ultimately means less staff to take care of these COVID-19 patients (or any sick patients requiring hospitalization, for that matter). And since there will ultimately be those individual who DO NOT use their common sense when the economy reopens, this mean that we may ultimately never gain control over COVID-19. That’s why *I* believe that we need to maintain these #StayHomeStaySafe and #ShelterAtHome restrictions for now; at least until we are able to control the spread of COVID-19 … If not to save more lives (we just surpassed 90K deaths today), but to protect the lives of those still walking this earth.

After all, what good is an economy if we don’t have people to spend it on?

*********************************

PS. Thanks to the research study I participated in, I can officially say that I did have COVID-19. And I have the antibodies to prove it!

Four Hundred

Wow. Another week has gone by without more than a weekly update. What can I say? It’s been a pretty busy summer.

I admit that I hate taking more than a few days break from writing, because I find that my creative juices start to slow down. Not that I don’t have a lot to say — G*d knows I always got the “Talks Too Much” comment on my grade school report cards — I just find myself struggling to write these thoughts down.

Anyway … what have I been up to?

Well, El Hubs & I were “home” in Detroit early last week. In reality, it’s because we knew we had to travel to Toronto on Thursday for his cousin’s wedding on Friday. And yeah … we coulda done the 9 hr trip in one shot. But why do that when we can break the car ride up in two days? Besides, we figured we’d do some house-cleaning while we were in town for a couple of days.

Thursday afternoon, we pulled into the Greater Toronto Area and swiftly met up with my cousins for some serious catching up. One of these cousins was LJC, whom we haven’t properly spent time with since her wedding in 2008. Her youngest sister was also there and we had the pleasure of finally meeting her Significant Other.

It was an evening full of incredible fun of just sitting and talking … something I sorely miss from the years of spending endless summers with them chatting until late at night.

Friday was obviously Hubby’s cousin’s wedding. And it was an amazing time … perhaps Hot as Hades in mid-July, but so much fun! The best part of the reception … at least in my mind … was getting on the dance floor with all of Hubby’s cousins/significant others and their children (our 14 yo nephew included) to start off the night of dancing with the Black Eyed Peas’ “Tonight’s Gonna Be A Good Night.”

While the wedding reception was an incredible party, I must say that getting together with Hubby’s entire family (well, most of them anyway) on Saturday was also wonderful. Because even though we spent time together the day before at the wedding, Saturday’s get-together was more laid-back and relaxed. I know Hubby & I had a wonderful time … especially teaching them Canadian cousins how to play the very Michigan card game of Euchre. We think we may have created monsters. LOL!

Hubby overlooking Horseshoe Falls

And today? Well … today Hubby & I found ourselves celebrating HIS birthday in Niagara Falls. I must say, I can’t think of any better way to celebrate Hubby’s birthday than with an entire gaggle of family. Just imagine a group of 25 family members (including an Aunt & Uncle who came from the Philippines for the wedding) doing an entire bus tour of attractions. It was completely chaotic … but I know Hubby has been enjoying himself today.

Even if I did forget to wish him a Happy Birthday until another Aunt had said it to him this morning. Bad bad bad wife!! **

Now, I’m laying here in bed at the hotel, finishing up the last minutes of Hubby’s birthday by writing nothing more than a journal entry for the past week.

Hubby, however, is spending the rest of his birthday night out with the “boys.” And by “boys” I mean two of his cousins, two of his uncles, and his Dad. I’m glad Hubby’s getting a chance to spend time with them … especially since we haven’t had many opportunities to get together with family (from all over the U.S and Canada) over the past few years.

Hubby & Me on Maid of the Mist

So Hubby … before the day’s over, I just want to send an incredibly huge birthday hug and kiss to you. You are my world; my sunshine and rainbow. You are my best friend … and I’m incredibly blessed to have you in my life. I can’t wait to continue our journey in life together.

Oh … and one more thing. Not that this is incredibly exciting news (in the grand scheme of this post anyway). But check out the title of this post.

Yep … that’s the number of blog entries I’ve officially written as of today. Wow!

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** In my defense, I must add that I did remember it in the shower this morning. But since we were trying to pack for an overnight stay in Niagara with his family, it slipped my mind by the time I started pack things away! Bad bad wife!!

Eye-Oh-Waah!

(Finally! Back online and wired — or “wireless-ed” this case — to the outside world. Hubby & I have been out of town since Friday and haven’t had any internet or email access all weekend. Can’t believe how much I miss having no connection to anything! Okay, so maybe it was a blessing after last month’s Nablopomo … )

This weekend Hubby & I spent some time in Cedar Rapids, Iowa. Hubby is part of the local Advertising Club in the city where he works. Every year, this Ad Club partakes in the Addy’s which is sort of the Oscar’s for Advertising. Any regional Ad Club can hold their own Addy’s, which the winners of each local club goes on to districts and then nationals. But each level has their own sets of judging.

So why were we in Cedar Rapids? Well, because Hubby was asked to judge that local chapter’s entries. And because this was sort of “last minute,” the flights out there were a bit too expensive. So instead, he decided to drive. And well, because it’s a nice 7-plus hour drive from where we live, I hated knowing that he’d be driving that long distance by himself. Which is why I tagged along.

Wintery Freeway Shot on way to Cedar Rapids
Wintery Freeway Shot on way to Cedar Rapids

While he and two others spent the whole day on Saturday judging, I spent most of the morning and half the afternoon in the hotel room. Except, as I mentioned above, we weren’t able to get any internet access. Instead, I flipped through the limited amount of channels on the telly and watched random things. Like a History Channel episode on the Classic Seven Wonders of the World. And High School Musical 1 and 2. And multiple episodes of Han.nah Mon.tana. You could say I was just a little bored.

Mid-afternoon, I finally decided to drag my butt out of my jammies and showered. Afterwards, I decided I’d do the half-hour drive down to Iowa City and surrounding Coralville just to check it out. Iowa City was a pretty college town. Lots of students milling about and lots of shops down the little center area. But it was too frickin’ cold for me to go walking out there by my lonesome. (Heck … it was bad enough that I had to fill the car with gas in that 20-some degree temperature; which doesn’t even include the wind-chill factor!) So then I decided to head to Coralville where I saw a Bar.nes & Nob.les off the freeway. And really, I went there strictly so I could pick up Book Three in the Twi.light series.

I mean after all, I finished the 2nd book earlier that morning while mindlessly flipping through the TV.

Ugh. I can’t say that this trip was majorly exciting. However, knowing that in June of this year Cedar Rapids was completely devastated from major flooding … well, it kinda puts things into major perspective. Especially after watching some of the TV spots that were up for judging for Addy Awards. When talking with some of Hubby’s peers (the ones that sponsored his stay) during dinner one night, I asked the obvious question; which was how bad did it affect the city?

To put it mildly, it devastated Cedar Rapids. When we drove through the streets of the downtown area, our host would point out exactly how high the water levels were. One particular building, you could tell it reached about a story and a half high. Even the server at the restaurant talked about how the entire room we were in was completely submerged under water. There was one instance, we were told, that residents saw some CNN newscasters out on boats, fishing in the middle of the “street.” Because there was, indeed, fish swimming in the streets.

And as we drove along, you couldn’t help but notice how many storefronts were closed. How the actual restaurant our host wanted to take us to never reopened after the flooding. How there were still houses close to the river that appeared to be abandoned with no hope of ever being rebuilt. And there were other stories of house boats that were found piled up at one end of a road. While another pile, this one of derailed boxcars from trains, were stacked up at the other end.

The stat we Hubby & I read was that one in four businesses never reopened after a major disaster. Of all things, we read that bit of info on a billboard. On the freeway. In the southwestern-most end of Michigan. On the way to Iowa. (How weird is that?)

To see that reality of those numbers in front of our face five months after the flooding was, to put it mildly, was tragic. To know that, indeed, many of these stores would never reopen in the city’s downtown business district was heartbreaking. And to know that it would take years to rebuild what was destroyed was just plain sad.

Sun setting in the college town of Iowa City
Sun setting in the college town of Iowa City

Those TV spots that Hubby was given to “judge” told the story of what happened during the floodings. The video shots alone were reminiscent of the same video real I remember seeing after Hurricane Katrina hit New Orleans. And to know that the Iowa floodings happened not so far away from my home … it was certainly eye-opening. And the sheer enormity of this disaster made me realize that natural disasters can happen anywhere. Floods in the midwest. Hurricanes on the East and Gulf coasts. Earthquakes on the west coast (and even other midwest area places you’d never think of). Tornadoes in the heartland. Either way, I think this has made me realize that all of us could be one step away from catastrophe.

So while I was utterly frustrated by the lack of good TV programming or access to the internet … I feel like I can’t really complain about it. Because truthfully … rebuilding this city and its community is much much more important than making sure I’m up to date with all the latest news.

I pray that the community of Cedar Rapids continues to plow forward and rebuild.