Sra. Rose

Quechee, Vermont 1995

     My  friend, Rose, “es un pedazo de pan .  No… she is not a piece of bread…but a really nice person…a special lady.. Rose is full of wise sayings which she delivers in Castilian Spanish.  “My mother used to say that,” she  tells me.  Rose is from Manila, Philippines but born in New York City the year her father taught at Columbia University as an exchange professor.  She grew up in an upper class family descendant from Spaniards. (Spaniards ruled the Philippines for 350 years until 1898). Her father was a doctor and they lived in Forbes Park, an elite gated community in Manila. Her mother spoke Spanish as her first language. Rosa Maria, as she was named, is bilingual like me.

            She visited me this week in Asheville and we picked up where we had left off ten years ago in Dubai…and fourteen years before that in Vermont. We’ve known each other since 1993 when Art and I moved to Manila to work at the International School Manila (ISM). We had connecting classrooms in the elementary school building and were Spanish teachers.  The truth is she was the Spanish teacher. Because there was no job for me in the library I was offered the other elementary Spanish position.  Yes, I spoke Spanish perfectly but had never taught it and least of all to elementary school children. I wasn’t sure I wanted to….but I needed something to do. 

Reunion in Dubai in April 2009

Emirates Mall - Dubai 2009

            Rose was my mentor for two years and by watching her teach her classes I learned, and then grew more confident on my own. She became a real friend and one I’ve kept all these years.  She and I have much in common having lived as expats around the world. We both have a global perspective on the world than most ordinary Filipinos or Americans.

            Rose met her husband in Madrid when Tony (Antonio) was a young Philippine Foreign Service officer and she was studying for a Master’s degree in Speech and Dramatic Arts.  Her father wanted her to be a doctor like several of her siblings. She knew that wasn’t for her and rather than disappoint him she simply failed some of her science courses and went on to study what she wanted.  She came to teaching with no experience and decided she liked it “plus it was something I could do wherever I was living in the world”.

          She and Tony married in Manila and she became a diplomat’s wife as they moved from Madrid to Tokyo, Jeddah, Guam, Hong Kong, Washington D.C. and finally Riyadh where her husband was Philippine Ambassador. She taught in almost every post she lived because she needed more to do than just give dinner parties and go to teas. In Jeddah, she started a Philippine school for children who had no school to go to.  It is still in existence today. Her only daughter is now a Foreign Service officer in the Philippine Embassy in Washington D.C.

            Rose and her husband moved back to their home in Manila when he retired and sadly he now suffers from Alzheimer’s disease. But Rose, at 78, has continued teaching Spanish  part- time and answers to “Sra. Rose”, as the students always have called her. “It’s my salvation,” she tells me…'especially now'.

            A devout Catholic, her faith is what gives her courage and hope and has seen her through difficult times in her life as it does now.

            Rose is loving, generous, fun, and adventuresome. I know this about her because she reached out to me as a friend from the very beginning despite our cultural differences. She knows how to be a friend and keep friends in faraway places as I do.  This is a survival skill when you live a lifetime of moving from place to place. There has not been a birthday or a Christmas since I left Manila in 1995 that I haven’t had a loving card, letter, or email from Rose. She has never missed a year no matter where she or I were living.

            Reuniting in Asheville this week was something we never imagined.  Finally able to leave her husband with a responsible caregiver, she has been visiting her daughter in Washington D.C.  I urged her to come for a few days and she was thrilled not only to see us but to see another part of the US she had not been to. She still has that sense of wanting to visit new places.

Chihuly Exhibit at Biltmore Estate, Asheville - June 2018

          We spent the week in between sightseeing,  looking at old photos, reminiscing about our lives at ISM and remembering people I haven’t thought about in decades. We shared our life stories all over again and spent time chatting in Spanish as we love to do because it is part of who we are.  We talked of books and places we have lived and travelled and places we’d still like to go. We both concur that “solo se vive una vez”..you only live once .  That said, we must do things now and not postpone life.  That is just what she is doing…and so am I.

Grove Park Inn, Asheville, N.C. June 2018

            

Hiking with bears...

          It was a perfect summer morning yesterday and over coffee, Art and I decided to go on a familiar hike starting in the North Carolina Arboretum.  It has some elevation, is mostly in the shade because of the dense woods and is a healthy 5.5 miles (partly uphill) if we go the entire way. It’s a 15-minute drive from our house to the Arboretum.  We took the last parking space in the lower parking lot! 

            “Look at all the cars, “ I pointed out to Art. “It’s never this crowded!” 

            Gathering our walking poles, armed with bug spray, sun screen, and a water bottle each nestled securely in a pack around our waists, we set off uphill on the familiar Hard Times Trail. 

            A half mile up, we passed two women coming down. “There’s been a bear sighting on Owl Ridge Trail, and we are coming back down,” one of them said as she pointed off to the right. “I wonder why they are out this late in the morning,” she continued.  “Aren’t they supposed to be more visible early in the morning and at dusk?”

            We were bypassing Owl Ridge Trail anyway so were not too concerned. We continued up Hard Times Trail to the gate which marks one of the boundaries of the 450-acre Arboretum.  The gates are unlocked during daylight hours in order to allow hikers and bikers to pass through in and out of the Pisgah National Forest.  We momentarily forgot the bear sighting tip and yet noticed we were not seeing many hikers and only a few mountain bikers.  Perhaps this should have been a warning.

            At the top of Hard Times Trail you come out by the side of the road near the Blue Ridge Parkway and then the shady, rather wide and winding trail begins and goes several miles down to Lake Powhatan.  I was feeling good, enjoying the trees swaying in a slight breeze and the shadow patterns along the trail. Art was up ahead of me as he walks faster.  This morning it was seemingly perfect.  We passed a friendly hiker with her two Dalmatian dogs who told us “if you don’t want to go all the way on Hard Times there is a trail that is only numbered off to the right about a half mile down. “  I knew what she was talking about but had never tried this route not wanting to get lost which is easily done once you start wandering around without a map in the Pisgah Forest!

            I said to Art,” maybe we should try that trail and make it a shorter hike to have time to do some other things.”  He agreed.  

            It was just around the bend as we were approaching this turn off that I heard a loud rustling in the trees on the bank above us.  It was noisier than squirrels usually make or even birds.  I glanced up to see a big black bear coming down right towards us. 

            I yelled to Art who was ahead of me, “there’s a bear coming down lets go fast!”  I suddenly picked up my pace, bypassed Art and headed down the Hard Times without turning off as we had planned.  It was too close to where the bear was headed.

            I walked at least a half mile until I began to slow down, look around and try and calm down.  “This must have been the bear sighted in the Arboretum,” I thought.  “Well, as long as he was behind us we should be fine.”  Art and I began to go over what we thought we had heard to do if you encounter a bear in the woods.  It is a fact that black bears that live in North Carolina are omnivores and don’t attack people unless provoked or unless it's a Mama Bear with cubs.  We had also heard that they can be scared away by loud noises like clapping, a whistle or especially a bear horn.  We had none of those things except hands to clap with but that would hardly seem to do anything in light of the size of the bear I had just seen.

            Two young guys in full biking gear suddenly appeared ahead of us coming up Hard Times.  I stopped them and said “there’s a bear up ahead…just so you know…” 

“Oh we saw him and got an awesome photo,” one told me as he pulled out his phone to show me. (I don’t have an “awesome” photo to add to this post simply because I could not even think to stop and take one while trying to put some distance between me and the bear.)

            Then the bikers continued down and heading in the bear direction without another thought.  I remember thinking, “at least they have bikes and can get away more quickly…”

            Just as we began to relax on our hike once again I glanced back to see where Art was and saw THE BEAR was back on the trail behind Art…wending his way down towards us.  “Bear!” I yelled to Art as I began to go faster downhill.  Just around the bend, I stopped abruptly as there was a second bear in front of me on the trail headed straight towards us.

            It was then that, as , the cliché goes I saw my life flash before my eyes…We were trapped with one bear behind us and one in front of us.

            “What do we do???”  I frantically shouted to Art.  I passed a tree that looked like I might be able to climb part of it.  “I’ll climb a tree,”  I yelled. 

            “Bears climb trees,” Art said quickly.  I think it was then that Art got  scared.  While I stood undecided as to what to do, the bear in front of me crossed over the trail and disappeared down the ravine.  Without even glancing back, I took off at a full sprint downhill. I remember thinking I am 72 years old and I am actually running!  I ran and ran and ran without stopping hoping Art was behind me and wanting to get as far away as possible.

            It was only when we got to the bottom of Hard Times Trail where it comes to a T that we saw people, two young couples and little children oblivious to bears.  They were on an outing near Lake Powhatan.  We were still a long way from our car parked at the Arboretum but at this point the trail turns to go back to the Arboretum and often is much more used by dog walkers and bikers.  We set off again, glancing around just in case the bears had come this far, and feeling relieved every time we passed people along the way.  There seemed to be safety with other people around, most of whom were oblivious to what we had just been through.  And we made it back to our car exhausted but greatly relieved.

            On the way home we vowed to thoroughly research Black Bears on the Internet and never to go on another hike again without a whistle, which we have and never bother to carry.  Since then, I shared our story with neighbors who are avid hikers and they told us about a bear horn .  Amazon actually sells bear horns. One is already on order for us!  Now that I am recounting our adventure I am sorry I don’t have a photo of the two bears.  Whoever reads my blog will just have to take my word for all of this!

            

Tennis playing-botanist-artiste....

            “Do you think you might want to be a doctor when you grow up?”  Art asked Austin.  Austin had come downstairs with a Band-Aid in hand and was demonstrating how he can peel the paper and wrap it around his small middle finger without a wrinkle.

            Without hesitation he replied, “when I grow up I’m going to be a tennis playing botanist.  I’m going to take care of Nature…”

            There you have it!  Austin has become the doer of many different things, all of which he enjoys and does well. At 4 years and 3 months he has many hobbies mostly because his parents encourage him to try lots of different activities.  I think back to when he was two and Jessica getting finger paints out so he could experiment with making pictures.  Hayden would take him to the tennis court to show him how to hold his child- sized racket and swing at the ball.  Jessica would push him in the stroller on dog walks stopping along the way to point out the beautiful flowers or an unusual plant. Or she’d give him a small shovel and watering can and let him help her as she gardened in the back yard. I remember commenting on Austin’s noticing things in nature especially bugs which he never shied away from but bent down to examine with the concentration of an entomologist. 

            When I come back from visiting Austin my journal is full of anecdotes I want to remember.

            Saturday afternoon Hayden went to play in an adult tennis league doubles match –while we babysat.  When he walked in the house two hours later, Austin asked,

            “Daddy, did you win?”  (Did I mention that Austin is super competitive at 4 and the concept of winning is very much on his mind?)

            “No, we didn’t…my volleys were really off.  I’m so out of practice…” Hayden replied despondently.

            “Here’s a sticker for you, Daddy,” Austin said.

            “Gee, thanks, Austin.  But why?” 

            “That’s for trying your best,”  Austin told his Dad in all seriousness.

            “Awww…thanks, Austy,” replied Hayden.

****

            Saturday afternoon while Hayden was playing his tennis match we walked with Austin the three city blocks to the local public library to return and get some new books.  There are cars tightly parallel parked all along the street in this inner city neighborhood.  Suddenly Austin stopped and pointed to a car at the corner that was parked halfway between the No Parking sign and the corner.

            “That car should get a ticket…see,” he points out to me.  “He’s over the parking line.”  This reminds me that Austin is a stickler for rules and loves to point out signs of what you should and should not do in the city.  I like being with Austin because he pays attention, takes rules seriously and is not a rule breaker at 4 nor am I at 72!  Jessica taught him on those walks when he was still in the stroller all about navigating city streets, stopping at red lights and crossing on green and only at pedestrian crosswalks. 

            As we walked into the Rosedale Community Center Public Library branch there are security gates so people don’t walk out with books.  Austin was insistent that we walk through the right hand gate because he said “that checks for people with guns.”  I was taken aback until he pointed to the sign on the wall that has a line drawn through firearms…Of course, he’s right but who wants to think about that. 

***

            While visiting this time, we got to pick up Austin after school twice which is always a treat.  He lives directly across the street from Miner Elementary School which is probably the closest of any student who goes there.  On the way home on Monday he said to me,

            “Can you believe that school is almost finished???”  He held out both hands waving them up and down to emphasize this amazing fact.

            Usually we come right home after school to relax a bit before Austin wants to take the soccer ball and go back to the school playground.  Despite the many older children playing on the soccer field, hitting the baseball, kicking balls or climbing all over the jungle gyms and slides, I notice how comfortable Austin is.  He’s not intimidated by other children even ones who are much more aggressive.  Nor is he at all shy.  He put down his soccer ball and kicked it to a little boy who looked about his age and they passed the ball back and forth all over the playground while we kept an eye on him. 

              Afterwards I asked Austin,    “Is that little boy in your class?”  

            “No,” he answered matter-of-factly…

***

            On Saturday afternoon Hayden decided to take Austin to the Miner playground to hit the baseball so that he would get tired out before bedtime.  They came back in about 45 minutes both sweaty and hot.

            “How about we take a bath together Dad,” suggested Austin.

            Turning to us he added, “my Daddy takes up a lot of the tub now.”  I think he really meant to say that he, Austin, takes up more room in the tub!

            When they both come downstairs all clean from bath time I heard Austin say to Hayden,

            “Did you know Art doesn’t have real knees?” 

            Art overheard and corrected, “remember the new word artificial?  My knees are artificial.”  Austin repeated the word perfectly but I wondered if he’d remember it.

            While waiting for dinner Austin hunted for his little Nerf football he likes to throw around.  He couldn’t find it until Hayden located it somewhere.

            Art said to Austin, “how come your Daddy found your football?”

            “He knows where everything is!” replied Austin.

            Over the weekend we watched some of the French Open on the Tennis Channel. Austin likes to watch tennis and definitely knows all the players by name and has his favorites. There was a women’s match on and Art asked where Muguruza, a woman tennis player, was from.

            “She’s from Spain…” Hayden said.

            “Hey,” piped up Austin.  “Isn’t that where you guys just were?”

            Austin and Art are green olive lovers.  Austin will eat an entire plate of olives. Art said to him, “Austin, ask me how many olives I ate in Spain?”

            “How many?” says Austin

            “Jars of them this big,” says Art holding out his hands to indicate a giant jars.

            Austin looks at him with big eyes.

            One of my favorite things to do when we visit is to go on family dog walks in the neighborhood.  We were on a dog walk on Saturday with Austin whizzing down the sidewalk pumping his scooter and wearing his helmet. Art was handling Jeter on the leash and Hayden and I were admiring some of the gardens.  Austin was way ahead almost to the corner of F Street when he veered out of sight. We got to the corner and Austin was halfway up the front steps of a big house.

            “Come back!” Hayden ordered him.

            Austin insisted this was his classmate Nora’s house.  Hayden hesitated and said he couldn’t remember where she lived. Austin insisted he knew.  Suddenly the Dad appeared at the front door.  Austin stepped right up to him with no shyness to ask about Nora.  A few minutes later Nora’s Mom came to the door with Nora who was excited to see Austin and they sat down on the porch to play.  She is shorter than Austin with a head of curly hair and a cute smile. They like each other in typical four year old fashion.  We chatted a few minutes with Nora’s Mom when Nora interrupted and said to her Mom.

            “I just called Austin, sweetie.  Is that OK?”

            Nora’s Mom deftly replied “well, that’s what I call you… maybe you should just call him Austin.”

            “Ok,” says Nora.

            It was almost dinnertime so we said our goodbyes and headed back to 15^thStreet.

***

            Over the weekend Austin gave me a beautiful painting of shapes and colors he had designed on his art easel.  He added four of his handprints, carefully cut out and in all different colors and even wrote his name.  I was struck by how seriously he takes his art and what a sense of color and design he has.

            “Austin, you are a real artist,” I told him.

            “I am not a real artiste”, he told me using the French word.  “You know my Pop- Pop, my Grandpa Huber?” he asked me.

            “Yes, of course,” I replied.

            “Did you know he is a real artiste? “  Austin continued, “He paints real pictures this big…” he held out his arms to show me.

            The Huber art genes are definitely present and perhaps a generation or two back are the Cory genes of my grandmother and aunt who were both artists…and my brother, of course.

***

            We had a fun time with Austin’s “Alexa” which he takes very much in stride as part of the technological world he is growing up in.  He demonstrated for us how to operate an Alexa, 

            “Alexa, what is the weather in Washington D.C.,” he would say in his most commanding voice.  Or “Alexa,” play a hard rock song!”

            Art got into “Alexa” and would ask her to play his 50’s and 60’s tunes…”Alexa, play “It’s so groovy…”.  Then he would start do his moves.  Austin threw himself on the couch giggling, covered his eyes with his hands and exclaimed “Oh, I’m so embarrassed!” We figured maybe he isn’t quite using embarrassed in the right sense because we wondered if a 4 year old could be embarrassed by a grown up.  He certainly thought his Grandpa Art was not great with his dance moves!

***

            I am home now and my head is full of Austin chatter and I miss him. I can hear him giggling. I can see him standing up very seriously at his easel.  I can feel his hand reaching for mine as we cross city streets together. I remember him snuggling against me as we read bedtime stories together in his new "big boy" twin bed.  I think about all the possibilities Austin has ahead of him. I can’t wait for our next visit when I must tell him that not only will he be a great tennis-playing-botanist but a tennis- playing-botanist who is a great artiste!

 Eating churros con chocolate and doing puzzles ..

Austin's heaven...