We were sent to Palawan for our third and last assignment. Palawan is a long narrow island south (sort of westerly, too) of Manila. We flew into Puerto Princesa on Friday, April 17 and stayed in a hotel there. Early on Saturday a driver picked us up and drove us down the coast to Narra where the conference was held. This was another two-hour trip. The road was paved, well . . . almost all the way. After sitting through a long youth Tagalog testimony meeting and then giving our half-hour speeches, we shuttled back to the hotel in Puerto Princesa. Sister Roundy convinced our driver to stop at a crocodile farm along the way. Then after another three-hour wait at the airport, we ended back in Manila around 7:30 and home to our apartment at 8:30 via a PAO driver.

You just have to be here to appreciate the interesting things you see being transported in a Jeepney. This one was loaded to the hilt inside, so most of the passengers were mostly on the outside.

The crocodile farm was a conservation center where they are trying to ensure all the indiginous crocodiles are preserved. We saw lots of them . . . little ones, big ones, moving ones, sleeping ones, stinky ones, smelly ones. We saw a skeleton of a crocodile that was at least 20 feet long. Big guy. And his hide was tacked to the wall. They also had a number of animals native to the Philippines. We spent about 45 minutes walking around.

Pretty much, if you've seen one, you seen them all.

A Walk Around the Temple Grounds

One Sunday evening, about the time the sun was going down, we took a walk around the temple grounds. We took a few pictures and these are some of them.

This is the scene (above) we see each morning when we leave our apartment and climb a few steps to the temple grounds. This is the entrance to the temple on the south side. There is another entrance on the north, but it is through an annex, so you don't see the dramatic entrance way.

The Manila Temple has six towers, one on each corner and then at the center of each end. The towers are not attached to the temple; they are free-standing. This was a nice picture showing one of the steeples against the pink and blue sky.

Our camera reached the top of the center steeple and found Moroni with his trumpet. (The spike in the top of his head is a lightening rod, so just ignore it.)

This view of the temple is out Elder Roundy's office window. Everyone comments about the nice view from his office. The next picture shows the PAO (Philippines Area Office).
This shot is taken from the temple grounds looking west at the PAO. Elder Edwards, the Area President, has the section of windows on the top floor on the left corner of the building. Elder Roundy's is next to his, and then the other two general authorities (Elder Teh and Elder Ko) have offices on the top floor. Those four windows on the left are the area presidency's office suite. There is a tunnel under this street from the temple to the PAO so passers-through do not have to fight the traffic zipping up and down Temple Drive.

Corregidor

When you come to the Philippines, particularly to Metro-Manila, you have to go to Corregidor. Corregidor is an island on the west entrance to the Bay of Manila facing the China Sea. It’s small, actually tiny. It looks like a tadpole with a wagging tail. Back in the 1600s when the Spanish ruled the Philippines the island was used as a checkpoint for all ships entering the Manila Bay, hence its name – Corregidor, from the Spanish word corregir that means “to correct.” All ships had to stop there to be inspected so the Spanish could make certain all things were in order, that the ship had the correct papers, cargo, etc. (No pirates invited.)

When the US received the Philippines in the Spanish-American Ward (1898), the Americans used the island for much the same purpose, making it a large military bastion. In World Ward II the big guns of Corregidor were used in support of Filipino and American defenders of Bataan (on the nearby mainland) until Corregidor Island itself was invaded by Japanese forces. The Japanese guns pounded the soup out of the island, and with intermittent bombings they reduced its defenses and compelled the US forces there to surrender. (These men were the main portion of the soldiers who were shipped across the bay to Manila and then marched to Bataan – the infamous “Death March.”) That’s why McArthur left, shortly before it fell. The Japanese set up their stronghold using the American-built installations. But in the end Corregidor was again caught in the fury of war when after a bloody battle the Americans retook the island.

In the Philippines there are holidays rather often -- usually two or three each month. (And, as we understand it, the president can call a holiday almost at will.) A couple of weeks ago we discovered there was a two day holiday (Thursday-Friday, plus the Easter weekend). We made reservations and took one day (Thursday) to go to Corregidor. We’ll share some of what we learned.




Another couple came with us. These are the Milletts. He is the DTA (Director of Temporal Affairs -- or the presiding bishop in the Philippines). They have a hired driver, and he took us to the marina and picked us up when we returned). We left Manila in the morning about 7:30 or so and rode a large ferryboat across the bay to Corregidor. It took about 45 minutes. The ferryboat we took was large and the ride was smooth – almost no dips nor dives. The ocean was calm.

When we reached Corregidor we got on an open-sided bus which we rode around in for the rest of the tour. Our guide was named Armon. He was on the ferry boat and asked our group (us four -- obviously Americans) to ride his bus. He was well informed so we learned a lot. Most of the buildings there have been left the way they ended up after the bombings. Things were rugged looking. We saw the big guns used to fire across the bay, clear to the mainland. There were a lot of gun emplacements, some still intact and others destroyed.

One of the buildings we saw was called the Mile-Long Barracks. It wasn’t actually a full mile long, but it was a long building, now demolished. In the Philippines most buildings are made of concrete because there are few adequate trees for lumber.

There are a lot of memorials on the island. All kinds of memorials for the Americans, and the Americans put up a memorial for the Japanese soldiers who were killed there. The island is essentially divided into four sectors: “Topside,” “Middleside,” “Bottomside,” and “Trail End.” Thre are different memorials commemorating the various kinds of military activities associated with each of the sections.

One of the main locations is the Malinta Tunnel. This is a series of tunnels into the highest part of the island – one main tunnel through the hill with a lot of lateral branches going off from the main one. The tunnel was used for various reasons. MacArthur stayed there when the Japanese were starting to bomb the island. During the bombing it was used as a hospital. In the end, just before the Americans surrendered, all the US forces on the island were hid up in the tunnel, perhaps 8,000. Some of these were the men who eventually were taken on the death march to Bataan. Then when the Americans came back to recapture the island, the Japanese holed up in the tunnel, hundreds of them blowing themselves up rather than to surrender. For them it was more honorable to die than to give up to an enemy. (That, incidentally, is one of the reasons the Japanese so badly mistreated the Americans who surrendered; the Americans were considered by them to be worthless for their giving in to their enemy, not worthy of any respect.)






We returned in the afternoon and got home at 4:30 or so. It was a worthwhile day.

American Cemetery

On Saturday (March 22) we drove to the American Cemetery in Metro-Manila. These are graves of approximately 17,000 American soldiers killed during WWII in the Philippines, and on the walls are the lists of 36,000 names whose remains have not been found. Row upon row upon row -- young men, dead. Sobering.






Sister Roundy lookin' good.

A Trip to the Taal Valcano

Several weeks ago we took a journey to Taal [ta-ALL] Volcano. This is south of Manila bout two hours (by bus). We got up early in the morning, got on the bus we had arranged for and joined six or eight other senior missionary couples for the trip. We made q quick breakfast stop at McDonald's. (Yes! a real McDonalds's, but yet, not quite the same.)

After about two hours (some of it mighty slow traffic) we came to the top of row of low mountains. We climbed aboard a Jeepney because the road was too steep for the bus – well, for the bus to come back out. Likely it would have gone down okay. The Jeepney descended down to the big lake.

We're all decked out in our American tourist outfits, ready to see the world, or at least this small island and its famous active valcano. It last errupted in the 1960s, but who knows? . . . we may see something spectular.

This shows the hill we had to descend in the Jeepney to get to the lake. It doesn't look at that steep from here, but it was.

[This picture is out of order. I've still not figured out how to get the pictures in the order of the story; usually I get them backwards. But enjoy!]

Off across the way you could see the volcano poking its cone-shaped top out of the water. We climbed onto a catamaran motorboat and set off across the lake, water spraying all over us. It took about a half hour to cross the lake, and we docked on the shore at the base of the volcano, completely surrounded by the lake.

The trail up to the volcano front was about seven kilometers (2.75 miles), too far to climb. But, they were well prepared for us and had a caravan of horses waiting. We each climbed onto one of these critters (rather small they were). A handler led each horse. He, or she in some cases, walked along the side as the horse carried us up the hillside, around the bends, through the gorges, along the ledges. In half-hour or so we reached the top. We somewhat joggled and tossed, the handlers out of breath, the horses glad to have us off their backs.

The volcano, as do most volcanoes, had a lake in the crater. In Taal there was a small island in that lake. So, there you have it . . . an island in a lake on an island in a lake on an island in lake (well, an ocean). Clever! Down in the bottom of the cater along the lake shore you could see steam geysers puffing and boiling, preparing to explode without warning.

The view was beautiful and refreshing. Someone had constructed a tower of sticks onto which several of the ladies climbed to get a better view. Some Filipinos had trucked soft drinks and coconuts, watermelon, and bottled water, all to sell to the tourists.

Gail’s handler apparently was experienced, but Owen’s handler said this was his first trip. He told us he was 19 years old and apparently had never been very far from the villages around there. He spoke fairly good English. He was interested that we were religious missionaries. He said he knew an important religious person . . . the archbishop. He asked if we prayed each day and said he did. He said his boss paid him P50 ($1.25) and that he would only make one trip that day. He got a generous tip.
Back across the lake, up the hill in a Jeepney, onto the bus for a ride to lunch. Along the way we stopped at a hotel just to see the view of Taal from across this side of the lake. We had lunch at a place called “Sonja’s.” Fairly nice food, almost American. She had a large flower garden, so the sister missionaries all enjoyed a stroll along her blossomed paths.

The bus took the long way home, down, around Taal Lake, and up the other side of Laguna Lake. That put us on the east side of Manila in the hills. This took several hours longer, but was an interesting drive. However, the CRs (“comfort rooms”) were too many hours between. We went through the small village where we first were assigned to attend a branch – Tanay [ta-NIGH]. It was dark, so we didn’t really notice anything familiar. Down the mountain, back into Manila, and on to Quezon City and the Temple. We got home about 9:00 p.m.

New Years in Manila

On New Years Eve we had a big surprise . . . the fireworks of Manila. It gets dark about 5:00 or 5:30 and that's when the fireworks started. All sorts of bangs and booms, nearby, far away, all over town. And it went on and on, never a quiet moment.

About 9:00 we finally went out on our backyard balcony and watched. We could only see one slice of the pie, but we could hear them from all over the whole city. Honestly, you have never seen so many fireworks at one time for so long in your entire life. None of you has.

About 11:30 it got even more intense. This is when we got out the camera and started taking a few pictures. What you see here is but a miniscule portion of what we actually happening. It never stopped.

These shots are taken from the balcony, looking into our back yard. Beyond the fence is a hill that slopes down rather steeply to the street below. The tree block much of the view, but there were so many bursts that you couldn't see them all at once anyway. And what you see is just one small segment of the whole city.

Fireworks were going off in front of us, behind us beyond the temple, across the city in Antipolo, and everywhere. Nothing to compare.

There is a Catholic church just behind the building on the left, but it was blocked from our view. They were setting off rocket after rocket there. This is not one of those, but what they fired was much like this one.

Burst after burst across the entire panorama. It wouldn't quit. It went on and on. We went to bed about 12:30, but the fireworks went on until 3:00 or so.

These pictures do not capture the granduer of the scene. As soon as you took one photo, several others burst open and you wanted to take those, but couldn't get to them in time.

They do celebrate the New Year in the Philippines. One bishop said, tongue in cheek, that he expected on Sunday for people to be lined up asking for fast offering help because they has spent all their money on fireworks.