Thursday, 12 July 2012

An Evening in Bali Hai

The better half and I answered an invitation from some very lovely folks who have been involved with the American armed forces for much of their professional lives.   They came into this country as legal immigrants, and quickly naturalised as citizens of the United States of America several years ago.

Bali Hai

     They were entertaining two other couples, so the six of them represented the countries of the Philippines, Burma, Indonesia, Malaysia, Singapore,  and India.  They have common traits among them.   They are all married.  They all speak English either very well or perfectly. They were all strike-force conservatives and Republican voters.   They all still use the correct identifier of "Red China" instead of China.  They are all business people, military people, and/or medical people.   They all seemed well-to-do, and very quiet yet engaging.
     Our hostess had been on the local television news during the week of July the Fourth, urging the populace to be open and demonstrative in their affection for the American Republic.   She is coming to be known as the Flag Lady because she has a flag-pole that fronts on the nearby expressway and that announces the intersection of the lane where there house starts the neighbourhood.   She and her husband have been active in promoting the proper display and protocol for the flag, and are becoming famous for their defense of our National Standard.
     All but one of these people were born into limited situations.   Our hosts were very young people in the Philippines during the Japanese invasion and occupation.  Their very close relatives were involved with the Americans and during the resistance.   They lost many friends and relatives during the war, as one might imagine. 
     The Indian man spent time in Malaysia, where his father, as a Commonwealth "Native Person" from India, worked his way up to be the Chief of Operations for the Dunlop Rubber people from England.   He was displaced by the Japanese Invasion and then returned towards the end of the War to re-establish the Dunlop operations to their previous level.   As the time arrived, because of his position and contacts, he managed to enter his son into Cambridge's high school/ preparatory, and the boy made the grade to attend and graduate from that University.   He is very proud of his father, and his son, who is now finishing High School in an advanced school in South Texas.   Of especial pride for the father is that his son scored the highest grade in the very advanced American History advance college placement examination....for the entire school.     The boy will leave High School with almost a year and a half of collegiate work already on his transcript, and ranking third in a very large class.
     Another "girl" is a trauma/emergency critical care  Registered Nurse and has recently qualified to study in a program that El Gringo Viejo thinks is something like physician assistant or trauma facility supervisor credentialisation.
     All were terribly polite without any hint of being syrupy or officious.  They are all very knowledgeable about their history, geography, and languages.   All speak at least four languages, while the Indian can speak five.
     Our Filipino friends...the military ones....had brought my wife and me into the get-together so as to show these poor people, surrounded by slugs and parasites who very remotely resemble them,  that not all the people in the Lower Rio Grande Valley are slack-jawed food-stampers.  They wanted us to tell their friends about how the Valley had been, back in the 1950s, and about the historical background of the area.   They seemed enchanted and surprised about many of the details.   The better half's colonial background and my family's peculiar comings and goings between northernmost USA and tropical Mexico, and many stops in between had them, seemingly, enthralled.

     The thing was that they all agreed that the Valley needed more attention to expressions of dedication to the Republic and more commitment to the duties required of patriots.   It was a bit humiliating, but much of the meat of their observations was well reasoned.   It gave us both something to gnaw on for the short drive back home.

     We could drone on about this little confab for quite a bit more, but it is thought best to leave it here like a seed for the planting.   And, we shall leave you all for another night.   Tomorrow another venture into the land Obama has fundamentally transformed.
El Gringo Viejo