A little more NBI and so. ..

I had just finished my meeting with the NBI and was heading for Puerto Galera, several hours south of Manila. It was so peaceful and quiet after all the madness in Manila, this relaxing trip by boat had cleaned up the smelly exhaust fumes from my hair and clothes, and a thin salty layer covered my skin that started to tan by the sun that seemed to shine from all sides and reflected a million times from the breaking water surface. The sea breeze speeded up the tanning process and I started to look like a tourist.

I had a beautiful three days on the beach, swimming, diving and eating good meals as I was visiting all the entertaining pubs or restaurants on the spot. And I enjoyed all of it. It nearly made me forget I had some business to attend to in MM.

I really disliked packing my suitcase to return to reality.

The first training

Quite some people showed up the first time and they were diverse, a couple of fatass chair sitters and some younger guys but no women. I didn't expect Charlies angels but no police woman showed up at all. I started an intro-talk for about ten minutes and then told them to follow me in the warming up. Well I have to admit I started a routine , but it was my first time in the tropics and I didn't realize that those people weren't waiting to get warmer as they were already, I mean the temperature in the building at that moment must have been at least over a hundred or around a 38 C. I visualized them sitting with their feet on their desk and the fan switched at 4. Let's say they were not too amused, but I got them moving in a lower gear. I came up with some disarming-techniques but that didn't cheer them up, they thought it quite interesting but of no use, when they encounter armed resistance they just shoot to kill, no sweat...What the fuck was I doing there.!

It was really hot in there so I called it a wrap after some hour and a half. And I could be wrong but I believe there was a 'fragrant' smell of sweat over there, for the first time since long...I was soaking wet and gasped for a San Miguel. I told them: next week, and fled the intestine of a rotten institute. I went there for a couple of months and apologized to them. I had to leave and teach at some other places. They were relieved I tell you, and so was I. There was no fun in it whatsoever. I never regretted the quit.

There's one more thing I never forget about this building.

It's the hottest place ever I smoked a joint at......

There were hardly any showers but believe it or not, there was a sauna at the place. So one night when I just wrapped a movie set and was really feeling filthy, I decided to take a shower at the NBI's. My friend Federico the caretaker-and Judo instructor was there as well but about to leave. So he asked me to close down the place after I was done cos he was in a hurry. Now then I got this ingenious idea to sweat it out in the sauna while smoking a doobie. I asked the man to start up the sauna which he did. I carefully checked if no one was around and lighted up my pipe and had a magnificent high. Next to carrying a bag of weed from Sagada by bus, this was one of my most risky stunts ever..

I had become friends with José Almirol, the secretary of the Philippine Amateur Judo Association and he invited me do a gast-training in the Rizal Memorial in Vito Cruz..

This was really a nice guy, so were the Judoka that joined the class. OK. !!! These people came to practice their sport and were well trained and not lazy, such a difference. I loved to show up there and have fun with José. I did so for several years, even had a selected team to join the ASEAN-games, no one made it to the top but a 4^th place. As the national championships came by I ended up 1st referee and organizer.

Everything I was taught by my old sensei Johan van der Bruggen came to hand now.

---

It wasn't in vain that I sacrificed my weekends for so many years to attend to his lessons in de Zoutmanstraat in The Hague. It wasn't really a sport centre but some transformed living rooms, it was

small but on the other hand classes were small either, the place looked like an eastern ninja-set having a dusty ninja outfit in it's showroom and it smelled like long flown times. As to his qualities, I think sensei v.d. Bruggen deserved a better location to his performance.

When Dan-grade exams were due, the place was impregnated with an Asian mystic and he knew how to use that just by looking at you with this particular glance of his, add his hoarse voice and his almost physical authority and all ingredients were there to feel bloody nervous. On the other hand if classes were given in a sports complex, he would use every inch of the facilities and had us run dozens of laps to practice intermission training and to control our breathing techniques. By the time we were to start martial arts or theory lessons often more than 90 minutes were invested in 'warming-up'. The usual menu after that was an intensive Judo, Ju-jitsu and Kendo exercise. The Kata were trained to the limit to get it synchronized to a perfect element.

Broken and wet to the bones it always gave a satisfaction and it was all worth exertion.

In the meantime John Mullin had come to visit me in my apartments, I had no more jet-lag and we went sight seeing Manila. Emil Ong had returned from Samar and had experienced my healing hands as he suffered a painful back. After a couple of weeks I was invited by Emil to stay in his house in Quezon City. Well, that wasn't too bad, no more expenses in the Mabini region and a nice place to stay for the next couple of month. Emil had his office downtown Binondo, but he had more activities besides the hardware store. Politics came first to him. At that time he was an active assemblyman, did his thing at the National Food Authority and was running for some position in Northern Samar. I had the pleasure to join him on a trip to the Visayas and spent some time over there.. For the locals I was some kind of a 'worth seeing', little kids followed us calling: “Mica,Mica”, an abbreviation of “American”. I learned a lot during those trips and came to meet quite some interesting people. I became friends to mayors, met with lawyers, judges, governors and military high placed personnel.

Just to stay in a good condition I was eager to visit the Rizal Memorial at least once a week, the guys over there loved it when I showed up to teach them some new stuff. But by that time I decided to move away from the NCR and find myself a nice place in Laguna. I fell in love with this province,well that's not hard to do, it is so diverse and beautiful, the air was much cleaner than Manila's and it wasn't that crowded. I had been to Sta Cruz and Los Baños before and 'did' the world famous rapids of Pagsanjan, about two hours drive from Manila.

This was the place where parts of “The Apocalypse now” were shot, starring Marlon Brando 

Juramentado...

--

….It was a couple a days or maybe a week after the typhoon when I came to visit my old favorite corner at Sta Monica in Ermita. The weather was great and I just ordered a San Miguel when somebody touched my shoulder. As I turned around I saw this smiling bastard of a Paul Vance behind me, I felt relieved, cos I thought him dead by that time. We hugged and celebrated the reunion with another beer..

Only then I learned the latest news about what happened after..

Before the storm had reached its max he had collected our belongings from the cabins already and he had retreated to find exile in a nearby barrio at higher grounds. He was told I had left the scene with some friends, so he didn't worry. He had stayed there for a couple of days to gather and rescue some of the props scattered all over the place and decided to wait the chaos to diminish.

He had to do some 'loops' as he told me and asked me to come along. I had no idea what he was talking about and he had to explain to me that he was 'dubbing sounds and voices to film loops'.

I joined him to the studios and learned how they synchronized to dubbings on the loops. I enjoyed seeing him doing background noise and voices. I remember one scene where a tv-screen on the background needed some adding. He watched the loop once or twice, said “Yes” and made-up a dialog between a guy opening a fridge and an imaginair person off frame. It was óne take only and applause...But I noticed he needed a lot of Marlboro's to get to his inspirations.

jungle in Laguna

It's a nice trip by bus to Laguna. As soon as your outside the NCR traffics-madness gets a little easier and nature opens your eyes. Oh ya, this view is such a magnificence it gives a holiday's feelin'.

It's a spilth to miss the beauty of the mountains with its variety of fauna and flora living on this fertile volcanic soil.

A nice view on Laguna lake and Taal lake

Los Baños (the baths) is worldwide known for its hot water springs and bathing accommodations in pretty much all the hotels over there. I've been there quite some times with several movie-sets, The Firebird to begin with.

I think the area southwest of Laguna the Bay and in between Lake Taal is the summum. The most beautiful place I've ever seen is Hidden Valley. I came to this place in '85 during the shootings of “Hellcamp”.

-->

There are 20+ rivers debouching in this 900 km2 lake. It's Manila's source of fresh water. The growing population and intensifying industry around the lake using no water clearing or sewerage systems create a serious problem to this source. Now there's another problem when it rains, I mean Rain. The water in this Laguna-bathtub can flow to one outlet only: the river Pasig. This river meanders thru Metro Manila and divides it in two parts, flooding the lower districts during the monsoons.

-->

--It was a big house I rented, There was it's ground floor, having lots of stuff piled up belonging to the house owner.A caretaker had his room somewhere there. He had his own entrance. My floor was huge, having a wide living, an open kitchen and two large bedrooms and a luxurious bathroom, marble pavement all over.

It had a nice view but the garden needed some attention.

My Belgium friend was impressed saying: “not bad at all”. Better believe that, compared with his former lodgings in central Manila.

Paul seemed to be relaxed at the place and even smoked less without the movie-stress. He came up with a proposition to rent one of the rooms to share in the costs. I was glad too, cos my rent was a monthly 2,500 pesos !! So I passed him my spare key and told him: “You're living here now man.” I couldn't have dreamed of the sudden reward he came with. He asked me what I was up to the next month, and if I was interested to do a bit part or stunts in a local movie.

I had ears to that.

That's how my second movie “The Firebird Conspiracy” came to me.

read more

.

A marvelous tribute to Michael Jackson

I started to watch with some reserve but all of a sudden tears were running down my cheeks , there are elements of all kind of emotions in it and they got to me. Thank you my Pinoy inmate 'friends' for this unforgettable event. Hope you are all free soon, cause there are more criminals, idiots and fools 'outmate' than inmate !!!!

Heart-attack or cardiac arrest ?

A cardiac arrest, also known as cardiopulmonary arrest or circulatory arrest, is the abrupt cessation of normal circulation of the blood due to failure of the heart to contract effectively during systole.^[1]
A cardiac arrest is different from (but may be caused by) a heart attack or myocardial infarction, where blood flow to the still-beating heart is interrupted (as in cardiogenic shock).
"Arrested" blood circulation prevents delivery of oxygen to all parts of the body. Cerebral hypoxia, or lack of oxygen supply to the brain, causes victims to lose consciousness and to stop normal breathing, although agonal breathing may still occur. Brain injury is likely if cardiac arrest is untreated for more than five minutes,^[2] although new treatments such as induced hypothermia have begun to extend this time.^[3][4] To improve survival and neurological recovery immediate response is paramount.^[5]
Cardiac arrest is a medical emergency that, in certain groups of patients, is potentially reversible if treated early enough (See "reversible causes" below). When unexpected cardiac arrest leads to death this is called sudden cardiac death (SCD).^[1] The primary first-aid treatment for cardiac arrest is cardiopulmonary resuscitation (commonly known as CPR) which provides circulatory support until availability of definitive medical treatment, which will vary dependent on the rhythm the heart is exhibiting, but often requires defibrillation.

The chances you get hit by an attack increase when you: smoke, drink alcohol, have overweight, have a wrong diet, (at that moment diabetes sees an opportunity to join the party). Of course there are many more factors that cause you to get a bad health. Air pollution, bad mood, stress, private circumstances, work etc.

Be aware it's not just the heart that will be affected. Liver, pancreas, lungs, intestines, kidneys and all the other organs and glands will receive their share.....

A smile, a laughter, love, peace, sports and correct food just might get you on the right side of the line and prevent you to get ill.
It's great to see someone smile, it's even better to hear them laught. What's wrong with loving eachother instead of hating.... Then peace will be the result. Sports will keep you moving and I tell you: it's no punishment to eat the right fruits and foods.
Cayenne peppers have proven to be very effective, and there are more remedies to benefite your heart. 
 Check on the next link to health problems.
water-hot-water-and-heart-attack

Often diabetes patients believe they suffered a heartattack but were the symptoms caused by a Hypo.

Hypoglecemia causes symptoms similar to those of an anxiety attack:
sweating, nervousness, shaking, faintness, palpitations, and hunger. More severe hypoglycemia reduces the sugar supply to the brain, causing dizziness, fatigue, weakness, headaches, inability to concentrate, confusion, inappropriate behavior that can be mistaken for drunkenness, slurred speech, blurred vision, seizures, and coma. Severe and prolonged hypoglycemia may permanently damage the brain.

Symptoms can begin slowly or suddenly, progressing from mild discomfort to severe confusion or panic within minutes. Sometimes, people who have had diabetes for many years (especially if tightly controlled) are no longer able to sense the early symptoms of hypoglycemia, and faintness or even coma may develop without any other warning.

The finger*

Mind over matter

The dimension(demention) between life and dead

By: Bert E. Spoor de Rave

  To reach a higher spiritual level one needs to practice a lot. It comes with a training of body and mind. A healthy body can give a controlled access to the unconscious, a 6th or a 7th sense opens up. It's a dimension you are able to enter, but most of us never have been there. The 4th dimension, time, mingles with another dimension. It has to do with anti-matter, a ''tranceforming'' to become aware of the space that's holding an atom. Now see this atom as a solar system, the nucleus or proton form the the sun, while the electrons swarms around like planets. Their orbit is circled so fast that the atom or molecule appears to be a solid subject. No such thing. If you would be able to see this process in slowmo, it might look like a solar system having a lot of open space in it. As a matter of fact, most of the substance is open space. Or call it anti-matter. This open space is not really 'empty', the balance between attraction and rejection causes enormous forces, magnetic fields, radiation and existence. There hàs to be open space, 'something' cannot exist without 'nothing'.

That's hard to figure ???

 It's like yin and yang , one cannot be there without the other. How can there be a left if there's no right. When all surface is flat, there's no up and down. When something has a front, there must be a backside. White/black, rich/poor, etc. You can think of some yourself for sure.

"I am the beginning and I am the end, from alpha to omega".

It needs more thought when it comes to: There's no light if darkness doesn't exist; The spirit needs a body or : Life needs dead to exist.

We are not always aware of our subconscious, oh, but it's there, as soon as we start thinking.

.Now, when you merge white and black, it gets grey, (why do I have to think about half-breeds all of a sudden. ?) this 'grey' goes for the mental aspect as well. This moment of grey is an area round the center line of a sinus, in the middle of the up-and down curve. That's where speed is at its top and hard to seize and hold. It's sort of a twilight zone. At that transition point you're not awake nor asleep. And you know you're not dreamin' either, there's only a very short moment when you are spot ón the center line. When you'r changing from minus to plus.The higher the amplitude, the faster this moment passes.

At point pi at highest speed from plus to minus.

To be able to stay in this grey neighborhood for a longer period, it needs a retarder to slow down the process. When the amplitude of the life/dead-curve lowers to a ripple only or comes to a hold, time stops!!. When this process takes too long, you're dead. Yogi-masters, 'meditators', trance-media, healers and magicians are able to reach a stage where the heart beat is lowered to enter a world beyond imagination. They can slow down or stop time.( their own time-world or someone else's !!!)

Compare this with a near-death-experience. I have no experience in traveling the sub-world this way and that far, once you've been there it seems to be a great happening, a revealing, an explanation to unanswered questions.

Two friends from the '80's

The youth of some of my friends was far from ideal. Don Gordon Bell, my Korean buddy was adopted at age 5 and served his childhood in a foreign culture in a far away continent, separated from his bio-mother. His search to his identity is still not ended after half a century. By next week a program will be broadcasted on Korean TV to the whereabouts of his Korean family.

Well, my friend Eric Hahn also didn't have the most ideal childhood. His parents didn't care, they were addicted and he got his ass kicked once too often. He ran away from home at age 10, got caught, ran away again a became intractable. This very young child was put away in a mental hospital and did time. 5 years later at age 15 he was released and had to find his way in this hostile world, completely new to him. We don't wonna know what happened to this juvenile boy during his 'detention' , growing up between idiots and criminals. As a minor and no experience at all it was hard to find a job. One way or another he got himself somebody else's draft card showing an 18 year old. He got away with that for a while and made some bread. But then he was busted and convicted to 6 years !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! charged guilty of the intention to use the draft card for false representation. We're talking about a 17 year old child.

He was paroled as an adult 4 years later.

No wonder Eric grabbed his few belongings and went overseas. He worked as a fisherman, got on board of freight ships and spent some years in Europe and probably learned some French as well. When the 80's arrived this young man felt the urge to return to the states, he did so in 82.

He was only 26 or 27 at that time.

It didn't last long. The country seemed too hostile to him and he left again, to start a new live in the Oriënt.

I'm writing 1983. Eric Hahn enters a new world as he joins the 'movie makers' . Obviously he seemed to do a great job as he was offered one movie after on other. Couldn't miss or I was to meet this guy. Oh, yes I did. Eric made it up to a fabulous 100 movies or maybe more.
To my count we share at least 10 films, check my filmography.

So I can say I met and worked with this fellow, and I'm proud of it.

Great you're here Eric, welcome.

And another one......from the past. Eric Hahn

Can you believe this, another oldy from the roary 80's found his way to the Bird. I am proud to write that Eric Hahn, residing in Mexico, wrote me a note that he is following all our posts to stay up-dated in his film-hobbies. Eric joined the film world for some 8 years and was involved in probably a hundred movies or more. Correct me if I am wrong Eric. You're in my filmography from beginning till the end. Great you are here dude.

Contact with another lost movie-veteran, Don Gordon Bell.* (click to visit his blog)

Click to his albums

When I started this blog in april I had no idea at all where I was going to. I wanted to publish my manuscript to still the hunger of my Dutch friends and give them an inside view of my life during those turbulent 80's on the filmset and beyond.

Due to my buddy Nick I decided to have my story done in English as well for him and some friends in Scandinavia. I was really surprised by the widespread red dots on my Cluster counter which I had installed over a week ago. This inspired me so much to keep this blog running, but made curious as well cos these dots represent readers. From the east- to the west coast in the US, the UK and even India. Now the very latest dot appeared on Korea were an old movie-veteran found his domicile in or around Seoul some years ago.

Of course I had heard of Don Gordon, we even happened to shoot some movies together, till 86. From there on I never saw Don again, he had left for the states as I was told. I liked the guy's attitude, rough but fair and a real lady-killer. He seemed to have a lot of good friends on the sets. We never got close though, I mean there were hundreds of people on these filmsets and one sticks to his nearest buddies mostly. I'm sure we smoked a doobie somewhere someday together with Nick. That's how we met.

I was so pleased to find me an e-mail sent by Don. He is running a blog also and had noticed the critical situation Nick was in at the moment and shared his emotions with me. I was so glad to hear he's offering his very appreciated help to Nick and Annie.
God bless you dude.

The story he's writing on his blog is amazing. I advice you to read his "Korean War Baby".

http://www.nanarland.com/interview/interview-dongordonbellvo-don-gordon-bell-en.html


Bert

'Imelda' Strikes Again: Thieving Fox Amasses 120 Shoes - SPIEGEL ONLINE - News - International

Thieving Fox Amasses 120 Shoes

A vixen has stolen more than 120 shoes from doorsteps in the German town of Föhren over the last year, amassing a collection that would impress even Imelda Marcos. Little bite marks on the laces suggest they're intended as toys for her cubs.

For more than a year, the people of Föhren, a small town in the wooded Eifel hills of western Germany, wondered who was going around stealing shoes from their doorsteps and garden terraces at night. Well over 100 muddy hiking shoes, wet Wellingtons, steel-capped workman's boots, flipflops and old slippers went missing.

The mystery has now been solved after a forestry worker discovered an Imelda Marcos-scale collection of footwear in a fox's den in nearby woods. 

The bushy-tailed culprit, believed to be a vixen with a family of cubs, is still at large, and locals have two explanations for her kleptomania. Either she amassed them as toys for her children, or she simply likes collecting shoes, or both. So far 120 stolen shoes have been retrieved.

"She's clearly got a thing about shoes," Rudolf Reichsgraf von Kesselstatt, the local count who lives in Föhren Palace, told SPIEGEL ONLINE. "We found 86 shoes in the den and a further 32 in a nearby quarry where they like to play. That includes 12 or 13 matching pairs of shoes."

"The shoes may well be intended as toys for the cubs because there are bite marks made by little teeth on the shoelaces," he continued. "It's impressive that she found the time to steal them in addition to getting food."

Count von Kesselstatt had the retrieved shoes laid out in the palace on Wednesday so that the townsfolk can come and collect them.

The case has made local headlines but so far the media hasn't come up with a name for the vixen -- given her obsession, Imelda would appear to be the most suitable one. So far she hasn't been caught in the act, and the people of Föhren seem content to leave her in peace.

"She's probably got more shoes in the den, we didn't want to venture in any further because she's still living there and we don't want to kill her, especially given that she's got cubs," said von Kesselstatt. "People should simply make sure they take their shoes in at night."

That is sound advice because Imelda is still at it with a vengeance, presumably to replenish her depleted collection. "More shoes have gone missing in the last few days," said von Kesselstatt

. 

How I became an instructor to the NBI

-->It's important to be well prepared so I needed a good plan, that was my motto. Back in Holland I started to look for the right persons to get me going. I found my way to the Philippine embassy in The Hague to get me a visa and to have a little chat with the ambassador over there and tell him what I was up to. In perfect English but no word of Dutch he directed me to Rotterdam where a commercial attaché was holding his diplomatic office.

So I went back all the way I came from because my hometown was only 15 miles west from Rotterdam. I drove downtown to the Coolsingel where this huge World Trade Centre had a little office room where I was to meet with  mr. Norberto Aquinaldo Romualdez 3^rd.

Somewhere on the 3^rd or 4^th floor I found a Filipino being busy with all kinds of boxes and furniture. He apologized for the inconvenience while wiping his sweating forehead and represented as Butch Romualdez. I was not familiar with this name yet.

With enthousiasm I was telling him about me visiting his fatherland and how surprised I was to learn that English was spoken all over. I gained his sympathy when I told him about my plans to settle in the Philippines. He was glad to find out I wasn't just one of the tourists, but that I had some serious intentions to move to the East. His heavy low bass filled and echoed in the almost empty room while he was on the phone talking Tagalog. His voice often burst in a loud roaring laughter. In between all his activities he told me his personal story about his wife and children, his house in Wassenaar and other private information.

In the meantime he was typing one letter after another and I was about to suggest to come and visit him at a more convenient moment, when he handed all those epistles to me. He'd been writing all those letters for me!! Maybe 4 or 5 intros to organisations like NBI and PAJA to recommend my expertise as a Judo instructor. Personal letters to friends and relatives of his, and some packets I had to deliver.

I was so surprised by this sudden friendship where I expected to face a diplomatic distance. But no such thing. On the contrary. He invited me to have a look in his new office where he had displayed a various number of Philippine products. He was promoting bamboo and rattan hand-made furniture, clothings, food and fruit and a lot more.

Butch was barking from the other office: “Burt come here...”. He had typed me two more letters. One to the Governor of Laguna and the other to the Governor of Abra, a province all the way up north in Luzon to where I had a trip scheduled. For years already I had supported the Foster Parents organisation to help communities abroad to live a better life. My money had been donated to a barrio in this province Abra and I wanted to see with my very own eyes what was done with it.

The letter to the Governor was to obtain a Dutch order to produce bamboo saté prickers by the thousands.

Butch, officially Norberto the 3^rd, was talking a lot about his late father Norberto 2^nd and his aunt Imelda the sister of his old man.

Only then it came to me that aunty Melda was the first lady of the Philippines, the wife of president Ferdinand Marcos..... and I was to meet her not long before she had to flee the palace and leave her shoes behind, hunted by an enraged mob.

The next few weeks I visited Butch several times in his office, but also in his place in Wassenaar when he suffered a painful back which I had to fix. In the meantime I had met with John Mullin, a good friend and colleague of Butch. He visited Rotterdam to get him some orders for his company. He was to fly to Manila one week after me next month. I made good friends with him and took him on a sightseeing tour to the Delta works along our Dutch coast and invited him for lunch at my fathers place.

He promised to contact me asa he had landed on MIA , and he did. Later he came to my place in Naic quite often.

With a 25 kg overload suitcase I boarded Philippine Airlines and was about to start a great adventure......

It wasn't my first flight to Asia. Back in 1975 it was my first time to travel these areas when I was on my way to Tokyo to join a Judo apprenticeship. And each time our route was a different one.

Of course there was KLM, a liner straight to Tokyo, charge: US $2500.- . Singapore Airlines and Pal were a lot cheaper to charge $600.- only. These flights took twice as long, up to 24 hrs. And that was due to the many stops we had. The first touchdown after taking of Schiphol Amsterdam could be Brussels already and next stop Geneva. From there to Amman Jordan. Bahrein, Hongkong, Bangkok, Singapore, Manila and finally Tokyo.

-----

Kodokan-institute, Tokyo Japan.

I had no problems at all with these stop-overs, cos having an open ticket one could easily interrupt the flight to continue some days or weeks later. And when you're not in a hurry it's a perfect way to meet people and see something.

For sure I got out in Bangkok to do the coconut-jungle tour, to visit the crocodile farms and to see the elephants at work in the upper north of the country at Chiang Mai, in 'the golden triangle' near Campuchea where the opium-production is HUGE.

I didn't like the sweet smell of it and regarding the physical condition of the locals it's no good for your health either.

A couple of hours north to Bangkok I took a trip to the river Kwai to see the monument erected to commemorize the POW's killed building of the railroad and bridges during WW2.

This bridge ( blown to pieces by David Niven in the movie...) was rebuild not far from the original location

10 december 1975 . Whoever could have predict that 14 years later I'ld be joining the shooting of 

'The return from the river Kwai 

– –

This trip however I was in a hurry, I wanted to get started in Manila and couldn't wait these 20 hrs to pass.

It will always be a special feeling to set foot an tropical soil after staying in the west for some time. It's not just the heat and the tropical rain, but also this typical smell that seems to hang around those eastern metro pools. Specially Bangkok gave me a feeling that just ahead of us a truckload of garbage was dumped on the runway. During the rainy season this smell was bearable cos all rotten contents of the sewer system were washed away. But then, often the rain came down so heavily that all shit entered the streets so rats and cockroaches crawled all over the place. Manila also had its own smells.

I learned pretty fast that food in those little sari-sari stores was eatable/edible and cheap, much much cheaper then the restaurants in the tourist belt serving international food. I loved tahoo in the morning and adobe and giniling for lunch. And a bottle of San Miguel would complete the meal. I felt a pinoy already when I could say 'masarap ang kumain' when I was done, which means the food tasted good. I was back in Ermita....

--THE NBI BUILDING--

The next day I started to select Buch's letters. I had bought myself a Manila street map so I was able to find my way around. There was a letter to attorney at law Emil Ong, assemblyman and head of the NFA, the National Food Authority. He was holding office in Binondo. I put letter this one second.

On top there was a writing to Jolly Bugarin, chief of the NBI, the National Bureau of Investigation and headquarters at Taft avenue, walking distance from Mabinistreet.

I couldn't help being impressed by all those initials and a little nervous I proceeded to Taft.

The building wasn't inviting, it looked hostile to me and so did security. I didn't feel at ease at all. It was crowded already this early hour and I hoped they didn't all come to see Bugarin.

Everybody had to report and register. I was the only white guy around at that moment so I was noticed at once. Two armed guards with bad attitude stepped down and started to question me. I told them I came to see their boss, they even wanted to read the letter Butch gave me. “So you are a Judo instructor”? , they reacted.

“Yes,” I was bragging, “I'm here to teach you.”

They were very curious and wanted to know more about it. But I didn't say too much and told them I'ld rather discuss details with their boss... A messenger went into an office, and appeared again to nodd me in.

There was mr Bugarin, as one could expect in a large room, behind a large desk and indeed sitting in a very large leather seat. The man was huge and fat but seemed small due to the extra seize of everything around him. I was offered a seat at appropriate distance of his desk. He looked down at me and allowed me to do my story. Then he nodded one of his disciples to reach him the letter I carried. When he had spelled every word twice and after examining the envelop from the in- and the outside he asked me to come closer. He was interested if I could teach his men useful disarming techniques and do something about “those fat bellies”.

I made the mistake to quick wit that he could join the training...

That very same minute I became 'persona non grata' . He commanded one of his “undergods' to entertain me and show the facilities. I never saw the man again. Better be careful with boys having an -I- in their logogram.

My private undergod invited me to follow him, he smiled at me with some admiration in his eyes as I had teased his boss, which he probably never ever dared doing. We entered the sanctuaries of the NBI. And with opening that door all attitude had gone. There were 'normal' people working at their desks doing their office job.

Then after leaving these dusty and smokey quarters we came to the serene catacombs of the NBI gym. The remote location of the hall, the silence and musty smell where I couldn't define any ingredients to transpiration surmised me that the physical condition of these NBI agents was far from the ideal.

My companion called a name or title and someone showed up from one of the many offices down there.

Now this was the very first time to shake hands with somebody in the NBI building.

I met with mr. Federico Amisola, instructor of the NBI gym and 3^rd dan Black belt. He gave me his card. I introduced myself as chief instructor of the IBF and IMAF in Europe 4^th dan, and handed him mý calling card.

At that moment I outranked him and was his superior. And I was sent by his boss.... I had to get used to my very all of a sudden new position and decided to delegate. Now, that's exactly what the man expected, he was awaiting his orders. So I told him I wanted to use the gym the next coming weeks for physical training and he was to notify everybody to show up. I opened my (still empty) notebook to schedule it somewhere. Then I suggested a couple of dates and inquired if this would fit his agenda. He seemed to know this game, cos a took his agenda and started to search empty pages as well. After a while he said he could re-arrange some appointments so the gym would be free. Federico started to write the announcement immediately with a surprising fast two-finger-system.

Content I wanted to leave the place, but he insisted to escort me and buy me a lunch... I couldn't resist.

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I was quite satisfied when I returned to my hotel room later that afternoon. I was in.

Utang sa loob...

I wondered if I could give the next day a same fruitful start, so I thought it a good idea to contact #2 on my list of letters. All these envelopes were open so I could read to which directions he was recommending me. The NBI letter mentioned my martial arts skills; the one to Emil Ong mentioned my diverse ways of healing and he called me 'helot'. The first time ever I heard the word.

“P.I.Hardware”, said a voice in my telephone, and for a while I thought I dialed the number of a private detective, but it seemed to be Emil in person so I could start my intro-talk. As soon as I mentioned Butch's name the ice broke and I had to tell him all about Betty and the kids. He wanted to hear the latest of his overseas buddy. We set an appointment for later next week cos he needed to visit his province Samar.

1st training NBI .

I planned to get out of town and spent some days at the beach of Puerta Gallera, by bus to Batangas and from there by boat to the island of Mindoro. Thé place to recover a jetlag............read more..

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