The Air That I Breathe

Huh? I can't hear you. My ears are still popping.

Last Thursday we took off for the Philippines. The flight was less than two hours, but in that short span a bit of beauty graced us. We saw a rainbow out the airplane window. I noticed the woman in front of me suddenly take a picture and I wondered what could be so interesting out there in the clouds. I've seen rainbows before but never from above. I wish I got a picture but by the time I nudged Paul and got my camera out we were past it. At least we got to see it.

Once in Manila, someone from the resort (let's just call it a resort for now) met us at the airport and drove us just over two hours to a tiny beach where a boat was waiting for us for an additional one hour journey to Sabang Beach in Puerto Galera. We arrived around 5 p.m.

To be clear straight away, this place is all about diving. There are about 25 dive sites all within 5-10 minute boat rides from the beach. The beachfront is one continuous stretch of dive centers and accommodations with some restaurants and bars and shops along a narrow road just behind the beachfront buildings. It's a safe and functional place yet a bit ramshackle and/or seedy in parts. The vibe was sort of Gilligan's Island mixed with the setting of John Candy's Summer Rental.

There were several dogs roaming the beachfront, not strays, just dogs with a lot of freedom to roam. There was even a resident monkey at the dive center next to ours. I totally don't believe in keeping a primate as a pet (ask St. James Davis and Moe, for those who know) but I have to admit that I was intrigued by the monkey. On the last day I took its picture and gave it a little pat on the arm.

Less intriguing was the endless parade of hawkers selling everything including shell jewelry, DVDs, fruit, boat rides, massages, and oddly, guitars. They weren't too pushy, but there were just so many of them that you had to say no to a five or six of them in a row and if you passed the same spot 30 seconds later, you had to say no to all of them again. Really, who goes on a diving holiday and comes home with a guitar? It was impressive to see the guy carrying all of them around anyway. At least the woman selling fruit was practical.

Our room at a place called Angelyn's was basic, as in it had cable TV but the TV was 13". It had a hot shower but the shower was the bathroom (big room with a toilet, sink, and a shower head in the wall and a drain on the floor). The pillows were more like sheets of paper, but at least there was air conditioning. There was a terraced area downstairs where breakfast was served every morning. For no extra charge, there was a rooster that crowed every morning typically sometime between 4 and 5 a.m. We also wondered why there were local kids all over the place all day long. We found out after a few days that they were on a school break, and we learned every morning that the kids get up soon after the rooster and make as much noise.

So rest didn't come easily even though it was desired because this vacation was a lot of work. When we first arrived we spoke to the head instructor at Frontier Scuba, an English guy, about what we would be doing. Then we walked around awhile looking for a place to eat and when we settled on one right next to our dive center, we noticed this man standing nearby smoking a cigarette. I had looked at the web site and saw the instructors' photos so I whispered to Paul that I thought he was one of them. He whispered back, "He's not an instructor. He's a crazy old guy I saw wandering around earlier, staring at people." About 10 seconds later he walked up to our table and asked us if we were Lisa and Paul and introduced himself as our instructor. He was a weathered old German guy nicknamed XC. I quickly estimated that if Robin Williams lost 100 pounds, shaved his head completely bald, grew a shockingly full beard, and threw in a German accent, he could play the part of XC, the weathered old German diving instructor.

The PADI Open Water diving course has a standardized program and content, but instructors may choose to lay it out in different ways; some do all the classroom work first and the dives later. We did a mix of both every day. It includes the reading of a 250-page manual which we dutifully read every night. The mornings started with a video covering the section of the book that we previously read and then quizzes on the material. The first couple of days included time learning tasks in the pool with a dive in the open water following in the afternoon. I guess we progressed well enough because we combined five pool sessions into two days. We had one open water dive each day for four days.

I will say that the way the course was taught, with dives included on the first day, suited our learning. I was nervous about one thing or another the entire time, but I became more comfortable even after the first open water dive because it put things in perspective. We were also very lucky in that we happened to be the only two people starting the course on the day we arrived so the instruction was very personalized, and we didn't have to worry about anybody else either holding us up or about holding anybody else up. I think XC said that they were fully booked in the upcoming week. There were even two students there who were completing the Instructor's course so they were observing our lessons. We had one instructor and two helpers all to ourselves.

I'll admit that if I previewed the manual before we got there, I might have decided that I was not capable of diving. I love being in the ocean, but I also have a healthy fear of it, meaning I'm only marginally comfortable with the ability to save myself if I had to. So when I first put my head under in the pool, I popped right back up because my body refused to believe that I could continue breathing under water. I got used to that idea in the next attempt, and breathing is the easiest part really. As a matter of fact, the number one rule is to never hold your breath while diving. It's the 'airway control' that was a little tricky for me. You must breathe through your mouth but be able to do things like clear your mask through your nose. I did have to try a few times to complete certain tasks because I had never used this ability before, but eventually everything fell into place.

I guess diving is something anybody can do, yet it is not for everyone. Either you're comfortable with the idea of breathing under water or you're not. You don't really learn that part. What you learn in the course is essentially how to save yourself in a variety of emergency situations. If your air runs out, if your mask gets knocked off, if you lose your breathing regulator. Theoretically, these things should not occur, but you practice these scenarios repeatedly so that you don't panic in the case that they do. You learn how the equipment works and how to use it to help you dive safely.

As new divers, we spent a lot of time and attention on managing the equipment and, personally, focusing on the mechanics of staying alive. I wasn't paying close attention to the sights at first but occasionally, one of the leaders would point out something of interest (which is the whole point of diving, of course). We saw a huge tortoise, a shrimp, a crazy-looking orange 'frogfish,' and lots of other fish I can't name, along with coral. On the last dive we only had one or two tasks to complete so we spent most of the time just looking around and it was more relaxing.

Buoyancy control is one thing that takes some time to get the hang of. You wear weights to help you sink, but you also have a device that inflates or deflates your vest. On the last day, we were much better at 'hovering' at the same level as the instructor and following him around smoothly without hitting the bottom or floating too high, but that's a skill that comes with practice. The maximum depth for new divers should be 18 meters or 60 feet. On the last day we went to just over 19 m.

So, honestly, I have no idea what made me think I could manage diving, but I did. We did, and I am proud because it is a challenge. Now when we can go places we can add a new aspect to our destinations. When we get to the Great Barrier Reef, there won't be any tasks to complete, just swimming around and seeing the underwater sights.

I did tell Paul that he needed to write a blog about the experience and he said he would...
Anyway, we leave for Australia tomorrow for two weeks, so I won't be writing for awhile.

Happy Halloween.

Arriving at Sabang Beach

View of the beach and diving boats from the resort

Monkey

Angelyn's Resort

Breakfast

The boat back to the van to Manila

Woke Up This Morning

...Got ourselves some DVDs.

Our loving relationship of almost six months with Slingbox has reached its end. It started doing strange things for a day or so, then it failed to connect at all. In communication with Scott, the Slingmaster, we learned that a Sling software upgrade was available so Scott upgraded his software. This is the shocking part: they only provide an upgrade for PCs but not for Macs. Have they not read any sort of business news over there at Sling Media? This is not 1989. People have Macs. Most software is now compatible with Macs. Tragic, really. With the upgrade, the login process is now different from what it was, so with the older software we have no place to enter the new type of login information. The bottom line is that we don't have TV now. Just in time for the new fall season and the presidential election and for the Giants being 5 and 1 (Paul loves me for many surprising reasons, you know). We're in the process of thinking about alternatives.

My kind friend Liz had lent me the first season of The Sopranos when I was recovering a few weeks ago. I wasn't sure if we'd even watch it. Then Slingbox went and left us. So years after everybody else's excitement, we're hooked on The Sopranos now. We finished Season 1 last night. I met Liz for lunch this afternoon and made the exchange... now we have Season 2 and something to do tonight. Alright, so I essentially know how it ends because if you were conscious and living in the U.S. last year, you had to hear how it ends. But I can say this: the theme song is infectious and the cooking, between Carmela and that other guy who owns the restaurant, well - we're hungry a lot.

This is related good news though. There is no shortage of Italian restaurants here. Some are decent, but they're either the 'finer' sort of Italian eateries that serve seafood and risotto and such or they're places that serve 'gourmet' pizza, maybe with a couple of overpriced pasta dishes or salads in addition. What HK lacks is - pick your favorite pizza place and insert name here - Brothers, Jimmy Max, Joe & Pat's, Sal & Lloyd's, Mama Lena's style joints. You know, the kind where the pizzeria with a couple of red formica booths lives on one side and a casual dining room possibly lives on the other side where they serve the comforting basics like veal, chicken, eggplant parmigiana. Those places are a beautiful, beautiful thing, people, so appreciate them. We knew beforehand that it was what we would miss most as far as food here. There's plenty of choice, but you ain't calling for a chicken parm hero and baked ziti to pick up.

Oh yeah, my point was that a new little place opened only a couple of blocks from us that has good Italian food and... things parmigiana!!! Paul had the veal and I tried the eggplant with no high expectations, and they were good!!! So we don't need to come home now. Of course I'm joking (but maybe you should visit just in case).

The other NY Metropolitan area thing that HK lacks is the pizza slice. If you want pizza, it's a pie (sadly small as they usually are) or nothin'. There was some excitement when a place called Duke's NY Deli opened across the street from Paul's office. Remember that delis are more or less non-existent also. Duke's claims NY style heroes AND pizza by the slice. If only they mastered the execution as well as the concept. Paul tried the slice and said that it was o.k. but that it tasted like pizza that you would buy at a stadium. Enough said. At least they're trying.

More good news for me... Remember one of my lists of things I missed where I listed Sephora? A store opened here. Ah, experimental shades of eyeshadow await me.

This lack of TV is culturatin' us too. Yesterday we saw a play called The 39 Steps which was very entertaining. And it wasn't like the production of Macbeth we saw awhile back with so-so acting. This was the real thing. And any English major would be excited about this (meaning mostly just me) but next week we're seeing Waiting for Godot. The Theater is even just a five minute walk from our place. It's like we finally live in Manhattan except there are just a few more Chinese people around.

So go watch Saturday Night Fever, see John Travolta order two slices and eat them sandwiched together, and think of us. Except imagine that he's hoping for greater things across the South China Sea rather than New York Bay.

(Hit stop on the blog music player if you want to hear Stayin' Alive.)

Dive

I think it's Columbus Day back there? Two more holidays passed here, one involving fireworks - National Day, and one having something to do with paying respect to the dead. Paul worked both days as usual so he's accumulated many vacation days by now. So many that we ran into a glitch which we then turned into an opportunity.

We have booked the flights for our trip to Australia. We are going on Saturday night, November 1, and we're staying for two full weeks. We are starting in Sydney for four days. Then we're flying north to Cairns, which is a beach town with easy access to the Great Barrier Reef, for five days. Then we fly south to Adelaide where we can travel around the Barossa Valley, Australia's best known wine region, for four days.

One day last week, Paul was informed at work that he must take five consecutive days off by November 1, regardless that he has two weeks away planned from November 1. It was suggested that he move the Australia trip up one week, but the reason we are leaving when we are is because my wine exam is the morning of November 1. So I started thinking of a quick trip I could put together so we didn't waste five days without going somewhere.

At the same time, I had been looking into local courses for PADI Open Water diving certification. We figured it would be a loss to go all the way to the Great Barrier Reef, one of the most beautiful under-water sites on earth, and only get as far as snorkeling. We could take the course there, but it typically takes four days so we would have had to dedicate almost all our time there to learning to dive. I spoke to one local dive shop here and they were not sure they could accomodate us in the next two weekends. Then I started a little internet research and a few hours later we had a diving course booked in the Philippines.

Southeast Asia has many popular dive sites and around the Philippines are some of them. There's a place called Puerto Galera about 80 miles south of Manila that has countless dive options. I found the web site of a place that offers the PADI Open Water course, accomodation and breakfast, and transfers to and from Manila for a package price that cost about the same it cost to take the course in HK. Even with round-trip airfare to Manila, the cost was comaparitively close. And it fit perfectly into the five day timeframe we needed to fill. It was sort of a matter of spending a little more money to save money. We wanted the course, and we needed a five day trip. Conveniently, we have both at once. And it's safe to say that the aquatic sites around Puerto Galera will be more impressive than those of the waters around HK. So we go from October 23 to the 28th. We depart for Sydney four days later.

Regarding Australia, I'm gathering reccommendations from the Aussies I know. I can't wait. Even the guide book is exciting. Yes, I will track down koalas. The book says there's a zoo where you can hold one. I'm there!

Lots of adventure on the horizon. Around here, things have generally returned to normal. I'm still not allowed to run for a few weeks. We'll both be happy to get away. Paul has been working ridiculously late hours so the healing therapy of diving, eating, drinking, and impressive natural scenery are much needed.

Doctor Doctor

No, I didn't call it quits on the blog. I can't be faulted this time for the long absence. If I fancy myself a writer of any quality, I should be able to handle the recounting of my recent situation with finesse, but I've been struggling. You see, something Serious (with a capital S) happened, but the generally light-hearted tone of my posts doesn't fit with the details of the story. I don't know how to ignore it either, so I'll try to summarize as best I can this unexpected and unforgettable thing that we've added to our Hong Kong experience. Many people close to us know the full details, but if I left you out of the loop and you want to know more, just email me.

On Thursday, the 25th of September, I began a one day tour of the hospitals of Hong Kong, starting with the emergency room of the hospital nearest to us. I woke up in pain before Paul had even got up for work. When I realized after a short time that it was unstoppable, I told Paul. We asked the man (I don't know his name) at our lobby desk how to get to a hospital. Bless his kind heart, he chased a taxi down our street and told the driver where to go.

They assessed me fairly quickly in the emergency room: a large ovarian cyst that would likely need to be removed. I was transported by ambulance (they didn't use the sirens so I don't know if it counts as an ambulance ride) to a hospital with the required ward.

There are public (government) and private hospitals here. The hospital I was sent to was a public hospital. This segment is kind of a blur of pain relief injections, tests, and circular conversations, but mostly waiting. Paul wasn't allowed in my room, which had four other patients in it, but he had been in contact with work and someone informed him of a hotline available to us through his health insurance. After communicating with each other by cell phone, many unanswered questions, and a thankful allowance of Paul into my room for five minutes to clear up confusion, it was decided by the hotline doctor that I would transfer to a private hospital and see a specialist.

I arrived at my third and final hospital sometime in the late afternoon. I had a private room where Paul could stay as long as he wanted, and the place had a more comforting appearance. The doctor, Dr. Eric Lee, came to see me that evening and explained my situation - in reassuringly good English - and set up a laproscopic surgery for the next day at noon. He felt confident that everything seemed routine and should be fairly simply remedied.

Things got a little more complicated during the surery and it took twice as long as expected as Paul waited impatiently. I didn't see the doctor again until later that evening. It was frustrating waiting so long for the report, but he brought along entertainment. As he explained the procedure, he popped in a DVD of it. I had no idea that this is typical of surgeries done laproscopically now. I have now seen my insides on a big flatscreen TV, and so has my brave husband who was as non-prepared for the show as I was. Yes, it's strange to see your insides, but it is also fascinating that doctors are now capable of operating in this way: a small camera and two small incisions. I am also grateful that my healing time is a fraction of the time it would have been for a traditional surgery. I also might not have been so lucky to have a doctor trained in this way if I remained at the public hospital. My condition turned out to be less common than it appeared, and I think I was lucky to cross paths with Dr. Lee.

I came home the next afternoon, Saturday. I was very uncomfortable at times for the next couple of days, but I felt better as every hour passed. I saw the doctor one week later and he believes that my situation is very fortunately concluded.

Blinding pain is scary. So is having doctors and nurses run around you speaking a language you don't understand, though they were mostly kind, some particularly kind. It's those small favors that get you through the fear. You start out believing that you could never physically handle the things required in the whole treatment process. Then as each thing happens, you simply become someone who can handle it all, and every discomfort becomes part of a collection of things you've survived.

Of course I'm thankful that I'm feeling better and that I received the "all clear" but I'm thankful for unexpected things also. Do you know that it's surprisingly moving to view your living breathing organs? When healthy, they're beautiful, faithful little powerhouses and it's reassuring to see their pink fleshiness - once you get past the ick factor.

I'm also fortunate that I felt pain - yes fortunate - because it indicated something wrong. When a week passed after the surgery and I felt much better, I realized that it's easy to take being physically comfortable for granted. I decided to appreciate that this past Saturday, I didn't feel the way I did the previous Saturday. It's reason for celebration, even if only in small, quiet ways.

I am grateful for the people here who have become my friends who brought me bread, soup, ice cream, DVD's, flowers, and a lot of kind wishes.

And I'm most grateful for my other half who thinks he didn't do that much for me but who made everything a little easier. Sitting next to my bed doing a crossword puzzle in the long, heavy-feeling hours is a lot more than it seems. This is where I faulter... there's no way to express enough appreciation of his actions and his presence, so I'll just say this: thanks for bringing me fresh bread that Sunday morning. It was the best bread I ever tasted.

My welcome home flowers
(it was either that or a still of the surgery video)