February 27 - From There To Here, From Here To There, Classroom Lessons For A Homeschooler Are Everywhere

February 27, 2019 

Fresh eggs and potatoes fresh from the farm are one of the greatest foods - assuming you have salt. Oops. 

Still, the day was off to a pretty great start.

It actually says "Reminder- Drive Slowly"
But it looks for all the world like "Turtle Crossing"

As I am writing this, Grisha - in his film noire voice - adds: “There was a man with a machete. He looked at us.”

First was a short visit Dunsulan Falls, a beautiful little volcanic waterfall. 

The kids rolled their eyes as we gave a lecture on rock formation and earth science. Sorry kids, homeschooling means you’re always at school, even halfway around the world. 

Young ladies desperately trying to crack open a coconut. 

There was a perfectly placed rock to use as a tripod! 

The Japanese-Filipino Peace Tower is in the middle of the town of Bagac. It seems to be one of those things where everyone is used to it and no one really remembers its original purpose. Once we have better internet, we’ll look into the symbolism of the shape, form, etc. 

                                                        

We did ring the bell. 

Getting out some energy at the nearby park. 

When you need a Marian shrine while you’re using the outdoor workout machines. 

Nearby is the Zero Kilometer Marker for the Bataan Death March.

 Again leading to the dreaded Homeschool Worldwide Lecture, this time about the psychology of mobs, us vs. them, mercy, forgiveness, and the difference between survivor's guilt and perpetrator's guilt.

 While talking, the kids brought up the Rwandan Genocide and compared it to the recent drama surrounding students at Covington Catholic School. I figured that’s a homeschool parent win. 

Our rental car’s GPS is a bit ridiculous, so while we were trying to reach the quaint historic village that everyone said we needed to visit, it sent us to the service entrance.

 It was interesting to see how… almost dehumanizing it was - seeing the locals working so hard to make the fake experience for the wealthy tourists. 

No photos, sadly, but it did lead to a discussion about culture (and leisure being the basis of it), living wage, communism vs capitalism, and global citizenship.


The back side view of things made us question whether this was actually what we were expecting - something similar to Pioneer Farms. A brief look at the website disabused us of this. It’s an expensive “resort experience” complete with tiki bar. Ummm… no.

We had to figure out lunch in town, then. Grocery stores here seem to sell mostly housewares, toiletries, and processed foods. Anything fresh seems to be bought at a local specialty shop.

The product description practically writes itself

Feeling a bit claustrophobic. 

Finding no bread and meat and cheese, which is our usual fall-back meal, we decided to get a pizza at the shop across the way. As we waited for it to cook, I started chatting with a woman waiting for her son after school. We asked for her recommendation for restaurants and it turns out she owns a local restaurant.

(The same one that the grocery store ladies recommended. Once we specified that we didn’t want food-for-tourists.)
Why do they ALWAYS first suggest food-for-tourists? 

We were quite the hit among the kids getting out of school. A lot more giggles and waves and smiles. Some of the younger ones were singing and dancing to show off - until we watched them. Then they hid behind pillars, peeking out at us.

I asked about the odd responses we'd gotten.  She said, "Americans never come to Bataan...... we had a British person here once, a few years ago.  But never Americans."

Driving from the pizza restaurant to the beach was an adventure! GPS sent us through all the back roads - many of which constituted paths - and all of which were nameless. GPS simply marked them “Road”
Children waved and smiled and pointed. We got to see real life, uncurated. The houses were small, some were actual stick houses with tin roofs. But the kids were normal kids - one of them was having a birthday party with balloons and giant cake, a group of kids were hanging around on their DS, and the most disreputable, ramshackle shack had a satellite dish!

This led to a discussion about cost of living, cultural norms, and how location, weather, and environment affect both of those things.

We found a non-touristy beach and ate our pizza there.


Not pictured: the pig wandering around the beach


 The consensus was that Philippine pizza is remarkably similar to Ukrainian pizza. ie, super sweet sauce, barely toasted crust.

Because of the volcanos on the island, the sand was black! 

Warm Water

It's nice having a child photographer.

Sunset at the beach

Soggy and a bit bedraggled, we stopped at the restaurant owned by the lady from earlier this afternoon. 

Yummy soup.  We were so tired, we can't remember the name.

While we were eating, she asked where we were from.
-Texas.
-My sister lives in Texas! She lives in central Texas.
- Oh? Where?
-Harker Heights. 

More soup.  This one had beef.

For those who don’t know, Harker Heights is where Steven’s brother was Associate Pastor for a number of years. Her sister ran the Filipino-American community group at the parish. I know six degrees of separation and all that, but that does seem a bit egregious. 

The drive home was filled with educational lectures on the evolution and domestication of the Yellow Dog.



 Grisha and Karina slept through it. 

Oh, and Irene got stung by a jellyfish.