IS THIS REALLY HAPPENING TO ME?

I was too sick from Perú to leave for Singapore on Monday after being home less than a day. Plus I just wanted to stay home a day longer. The problem was I had a non-stop from Newark to Singapore booked for Monday and it doesn't fly on Tuesday thru Thursday.

So I left on Tuesday, flew from Atlanta to JFK, connected to Frankfurt, got off the plane for two hours and wandered around the airport, got back on and flew another 13 hours to Singapore, landing at 5am Thursday. So far so good.

As I will filling out the landing immigration card, it asked if I had been to Africa or South America in the last six days. I've been to Singapore many times and it always asks me that but usually I can check no. If it was any other country I would have just checked no, but you don't break the rules in Singapore. That's what makes it such a great place and one of my favorite places in the world. If you follow the rules, it is utopia. So I checked yes and hoped they wouldn't notice it.

I got up to the Customs agent who didn't appear to notice it (I breathed easier) and then he pointed to the Peru stamp in my passport. How he found it out of the hundreds of stamps in my passport is beyond me but he did. He said "Did you disclose this?" as he turned over the immigration card and said "Oh, yes, you did. Good. May I see your Yellow Fever Vaccination certificate?" Shit.

I told him I had the yellow documentation record for all 3 Hepatitis shots, flu shot, MMR shot, Typhoid Fever shot and a bunch of others but I didn't have the yellow fever certificate as I got the last one in 2003 and had not had them update my Yellow vaccination card.

I said "And on top of that, although I have had the vaccination, I was up above 12,000 feet in Perú and there is no risk there of getting yellow fever. He asked me if I flew into Lima and I said yes (since he knew the answer) and he said there is a risk there and he needs the card.

So he calls an officer and while everyone behind me is gawking and snickering as the officer leads me away (with my passport in her hand), I suddenly realize I am in trouble.

They take me to the immigration counter and I explain all of this while the man behind the counter, firmly but nicely shakes his head no the entire time I talk. He then asked me to follow him into a room. Great, I thought. A single light bulb will be hanging from a wire, there will be a metal table and two metal chairs and I will sit in one and he in the other and they will stare at my fingernails while imagining how much I will scream when they pull them slowly out.

Instead, we entered a bright, warm, attractively decorated and furnished room and he asked me to sit on the couch and offered me a glass of fresh squeezed orange juice and asked me if I wanted coffee or some toast. He told me there was a 10:15 am (in about 4 hours) flight to Newark and I could get on that since I could not enter Singapore. He then said "We have Wi-Fi in here that is free if you want to tell your family or office what is going on and you can also use your cell phone. I am going to go talk to my supervisor and will be back."

I sent a message to someone that lives in my house and explained to her that I had a small problem. She responded via email that she was dealing with a fax to our car insurance company.

Hmm, interesting response. It was clear that she had concluded, appropriately, that there was nothing she could do and besides, if I hadn't have gone flying off, AGAIN, to some other part of the world, especially when I was sick as crap from two days earlier in Perú, I could figure out how to get out of this mess on my own since I got myself into it.

Perhaps, I thought, it is because this is all happening on the first time in my marriage that I have not been with her on our anniversary. But then I thought "Oh, that's silly. I am sure no woman would ever thing that way."

Of course, none of this was said. But I am sure it was thought.

My pal (I didn't get his name-we will call him Sergeant Wong) came back in smiling with his boss, who we will call Captain Suwaloo. She was an attractive and friendly woman who didn't speak much English.

Sergeant Won said they had the answer. If I didn't want to go back to the states, I could stay in this room for 48 hours and then the waiting period would be up and I could enter Singapore. They would get me food and I could stay there. Given it would give me 48 hours of nothing to do but answer emails I almost said okay but I explained that they had screened me and all other Americans and Mexicans when we got off the plane for a fever due to the Swine Flu scare and I passed so if I didn't have a fever, I didn't have Yellow Fever.

Sergeant Wong was a good guy and was quite understanding. He patiently explained how I could be a carrier and not actually have it. I told him I had a meeting (on studying the health care system of Singapore of all things) that started the next day and I had to be at it. He listened and translated into Malay for Captain Suwaloo. They chatted and said they would be back.

In comes a public health doctor who asked me if I had been ill at all in Perú. Absolutely not I stammered. She asked me where all I had been and talked about my overall health and said (I almost lost it here) that I appeared to be in good health "for my age". The bitch.

What was odd was that I had taken a photo of myself in the plane right when we landed so I could see how bad I looked after only 3 hours sleep in two days and I think you will agree, I looked pretty bad. She must have had a very low threshold in determining if someone was in good health.

She left and I sat another hour or so and Sergeant Wong came in and said "Okay-we are going to let you in. We see in our records you have been here many times (that's pretty scary) but next time we have to have a yellow fever certificate if you have been anywhere in Africa or South America in the previous week. He wanted to know where I was staying and when I would be leaving and he made a note of all of that. I thanked him and he opened the door, asked me if I wanted a paper wrapped mint from a dish he held (I did-it was good chocolate) and he showed me how to get out.

I took a taxi to the Mandarin Oriental Hotel where I will be for the next 8 nights. I swear Sergeant Wong called them. I walked in and they said "Welcome Mr. Thomas". I have never been there before. They told me they had upgraded me and when I finished checking in the young woman took me personally to the room. On the way up she said "We have given you a room with a special view. I think you will like it". When I walked in the room, this was the view I saw.

It was an incredible view. But then I LOVE Singapore and to me everything is incredible here. So I unpacked and was really dragging since I had only slept 3 hours in the last 42 hours. I knew if I went to bed I would sleep all day and I needed to adjust to the 12 hour time change so I was determined to not do that.

I decided I would go to Malaysia for the day. Several years ago we had hired a driver and a car to take us there from Singapore and it cost $240 US. I decided to find the cheapest way and found a bus that takes the day laborers back and forth between Malaysia and Singapore for a whopping $4.80 Singapore dollars (a little under three bucks US). I figured it would be an adventure and keep me awake.

Now, for those readers that are paying attention and are still reading you will immediately see the problem with this plan but unfortunately I did not. I seemed to have forgotten (in a period of two hours) that I had been allowed on a one time basis to get into Singapore and that if I went to Malaysia I would be leaving the country gracious enough to let me in ONCE.

I realized it as I passed through outgoing Singapore customs on the Malaysian border and the customs officer took my entry card from me. It was too late.

So I went to Johor Bahru, changed my Singapore dollars to Malaysian Ringgit from some swindling street money changer as the taxi's won't take Singapore dollars. I then began negotiating with a taxi driver to take me to the Royal Abu Bakr museum that I have wanted to go to for some time. After arguing back and forth we finally agreed on a price and then he said "Oh, wait, it is closed today."

So I went to a shopping mall and as the only Westerner among the thousands of Malaysians in this mall, I walked around and marveled at the Starbucks, Kenny Rogers Roasters, KFC, and every other American import. I love looking at all the totally covered Muslim women buying the latest sexy undergarments from Victoria Secret.

I was dreading the hassle I knew I would have when I went back and tried to get into Singapore. again. I decided not to check the box on the immigration card that said I had been in South America the last six days as I figured they wouldn't have it in their system yet. I carefully cased the customs officers to escape the older male ones who would be set in their ways. I saw a young attractive Singaporean customs officer and approached her and said Hi. She was friendly and took my passport, screened it, looked a the immigration card and said "I see you had some problems getting into Singapore earlier today and that you had been in South America but it is not checked on your card here. Why not?" And she smiled.

Damn. My mind doesn't work very fast when I am sleep deprived and jet lagged. But I answered "Well, if you count from Saturday, when my passport is stamped in Peru (it was actually Sunday that I left but they had the Saturday date on it) and you count today it is six days so I decided that since they let me in earlier today, it must be okay."

She stared at me for a while, smiled and said "Sure." making it clear she knew I was full of crap and making that up. She stamped the passport, handed it to me and said "If you leave again you HAVE to come back with that certificate." I could have hugged her.

I made my way back to the hotel, stopping at a Hindu temple to meditate for a half hour, and then I set the alarm and slept for an hour. I could not wake up so I went to the shopping center next door and bought two Venti Latte's from Starbucks and downed them and managed to stay awake until 10 last night. This is important because at 10pm tonight I have a Board of Directors conference call (it will be 9am in Chicago where the call is being handled) and I knew I had to be adjusted as it does not look good when the Chairman falls asleep on a Board call that he called.

I have a few hours to kill today before our first get-together. There is a musical festival called A Tapestry of Sacred Music at the Esplanade that features music from disappearing cultures around the world so I think I will go to that for a while, trying and find some satays for lunch and go to the Tan Si Chong Su Temple that was built in 1876 for the Tan clan and is a temple I have not been to here. I think this is my favorite city in the world to spend a day or two recovering from jet lag.

THE TRIP IS ALMOST OVER

Lee and I returned to Lima this morning. I have some sort of major stomach problem complete with 102.6 degree fever. Thank goodness I always have my thermometer so I can feel worse after taking my temp. I have been in bed all day.

I have stories to tell and photos to show but have to leave a little before 1am to get back to Atlanta.

This was the best trip I have ever taken with Freedom from Hunger. I think it has changed Lee's view of the world in ways he may not know.

Freedom from Hunger is truly improving the lives of millions of women and children around the world and I am proud to be the Chairman of their Board of Trustees.

Yesterday, in a small village near Huancayo, we sat outdoors and watched our partner conduct training on how the women could improve their businesses. These women, who are part of a village filled with people who were driven from their homes and small subsistence farming plots in the mid-90s by the Shining Path, enthusiastically embraced the training and embraced us.

These women, who often do not have enough to eat, gave each of us a plate of Choclo (the giant corn grown in Perú), some homemade cheese, a hard boiled egg and a potato as appreciation for what we do. It was moving and powerful.

They had three of their daughters serve it to us so they could continue on with their self-help group meeting and training. Their photo is below. At a time when I am so sick I don't want to get on the plane, I am heartened by this photo, just knowing we are making a difference in the future of little girls like these.

Now if I can just figure out how to survive the flight home tonight/tomorrow and manage to drag myself on to a plane to Singapore on Monday.

LIMA

We arrived at hotel about midnight last night. I was up until 1:30 trying to get internet access (I did) so I could send the jillion emails I typed on the plane.

Sitting at the gate in Atlanta while we were boarding was a woman across the aisle from me on her phone. She was telling the person that she would see if she could get Mexican Qualudes in Lima for them. She said she thought she could and if not she would bring back some other good drugs. Then she started telling the other person all about her drug filled party days back in the 60's.

When she hung up I touched her on the arm and said "Scuse me Ma'am, but I am with the DEA so please show me your passport immediately". She freaked out until I started laughing. It turned out she is the President of an engineering firm in Alabama. But I thought it was pretty funny-I think she almost wet her pants.

Today was a day to rest and relax and adjust to the high altitude medicine we have to take since we have to leave the hotel at 330 am tomorrow for a 5am flight to Ayacucho, home of the Shining Path Maoist Guerilla Movement and then to some outlying villages at an altitude of over 12,000 feet.

So we went on a tour of Lima. I had seen all of it before but it was still fun to do it with the group. At the Plaza Mayor, with the main cathedral in the background, I snapped a photo of a guy standing in the middle of the Plaza that looks just like my son-in-law Lee.

We went into the Cathedral where Mass was going on and it was amazing how many people were in attendance.




We then toured a Monastery that had thousands of skulls and bones on display in the catacombs as they used to bury the wealthy people under the church at the Monastery as well as the monks.




We then went to Love Park, overlooking the Pacific Ocean. It is called that because on Valentines Day annually couples are asked to come and participate in a kissing contest. They have to get in the position of the sculpture that is in the park (and shown below) and see how long they can kiss without stopping or losing their position. This years record was 45 minutes. Our guide, an attractive young Peruvian named Maribel said that she has hear that Peruvian kissing is more passionate than French kissing.



Then we toured some more gardens and plazas



and finally had lunch at 1:30 at a very upscale restaurant called Las Brujas de Cachiche (the Witches of Cachiche) which had the oddest centerpiece made out of reeds and plastic fruit when you first walked in the restaurant. While the rice in beef blood and rice in chicken blood on the buffet was not my cup of tea, it was overall a very good lunch. So then we all agreed to skip the museum tour (fine with me as I have been there) and we walked the 15 mintues back to the hotel and all crashed.

Tonight at 7:30 we have reservations at a famous seafood restaurant called La Rosa Náutica that sticks out into the ocean. I snapped a photo of it from Love Park.




Then it will be to bed by 10 since a 2:30 am wake up call is going to be rough. Likely no posts for a while as I doubt I will have internet access where we are going.

OFF TO LIMA IN AN HOUR

Lee and I are here at the airport and will be heading south for six and a half hours very soon. I'm looking forward to being in the field again with Freedom from Hunger.

After nearly two and a half long years (due to the drought), our back yard is finally done. Cathy has recreated our back yard in other cities and always it has looked fabulous and she did it again.

Mom, I wish first of all that you could read this but maybe my brother can read it to you and second that you could see it. Here is a photo of part of the yard that I took this morning in the middle of Atlanta's gorgeous spring.

And, as for my Mom, all of you have read (here) about our final goodbye to my Mom at the end of last month. She is still holding on-today is the 36th day she has eaten nothing at all. The people at Hospice tell us daily she is not only a very strong physical person, she is always happy and joking with them, even at this time. They all love her as we do.

I clearly realize that we may get to Perú and have to turn around and come back for her service and if that doesn't happen, I will likely have to do it over the two weeks that follow this trip when I am in Singapore. But Mom wants us to go on with our lives as she did with hers and so that is what I am doing.

I do not know if we will have internet access in the small villages we will be in but if we do, I will leave a short post.

WORD OF THE DAY-DROMOMANIAC

In the 365 Amazing Trivia Facts Calendar the other day they had the above word. I decided to use it as the theme of this posting but of course due to the storms Monday in Atlanta, today is the first day I have had internet access (or TV for that matter). You can guess how pleased I am about that.

When you turn the page over for the explanation of the word, you find the following:

“Someone with an abnormal impulse to wander or travel”.

I wonder if any of you know anyone that fits that definition?

Okay, this will be short (for a change) as I need to pack to leave for Perú this Saturday for 8 days for work with Freedom from Hunger. I asked both Grover and Lee to join me and Lee was able to so that will be fun.

I arrive back on Sunday the 26th and leave on Monday the 27th for Singapore for 12 days.

You know how some people have initials after their name like this: John P. Brinklenick, PHD or Sally Jane Crump, MAA?

I am going to change mine to: J. Grover Thomas, DRM

HEALING WITH THE BOYS

After my last Post about telling my Mom goodbye, only one thing could have been nearly perfect for my soul-having Wes and Landon and their Mom Cris for a week of spring break at our home in Destin.



I say "nearly perfect" since "totally perfect" would have included Finn but he is spending two weeks with his other grandparents and his Auntie Claire who are in Atlanta from the UK and I am so happy for them that they have the time with Finn and his parents.



Before I went to go to bed last night I saw the shoes of the family all lined up (sort of) and I had to take a photo as I knew just seeing them would help me sleep since I worry so much because my Mom continues to wake up every morning at Hospice, disappointed that she has not left our world. Tomorrow will be her 27th day that she has refused all food. I wish these shoes included hers.

So we have been busy this week in Destin. Swimming in our pool, driving the half hour to Seaside, riding trikes and bikes, eating in and out and a lot of time spent inside during the two unseasonably "cool" (of course it is relative-a high of 62) days, playing hours and hours of Wii.

This morning, Landon and Wes were playing Golf on the Wii and suddenly, after Landon had several good swings, he sat down and guess what fell out of his mouth?

So this afternoon I was off to the Post Office to find a gold dollar for the tooth fairy. When I returned, we made home made ice cream. My Dad always made it when we would go visit him and so I like to do it when the Grandkids come see us. They seemed to enjoy it also!

And finally, for dinner tonight I made some wonderful (if I do say so myself) home made Cherry Fennel bread and we ate half the loaf at this one meal.

MY LAST DAY WITH MY MOM FOR THE REST OF MY LIFE

As those of you who read this regularly know, my Mom is at the end of her life. She is in Hospice in Scottsdale, Arizona and since mid January, I have been out there three times and told her goodbye, each time believing I would not see her again.

A week ago we flew out there again and this time, because she is now in Hospice, we knew it was the last time we would see her alive.

For four nights I slept in a chair next to her bed, listening to her stilted breathing, watching her try and get out of bed when there is no way she had the strength to do so, stifling my tears as she asked the nurses why she had not died yet and many more things too painful to share at this point in time. I realized the last time I slept in the same room with my Mom was probably 50 years or so ago when she took us to Disneyland.

Monday was the last night I stayed with her. We had dinner with my brother Steve and his wife Judie and after dropping Cathy off at the hotel, I arrived at Hospice about 8:30 pm and she was already asleep.

Over many years I have tried several forms of mediation and meditate on a daily basis.

One of the forms is called Primordial Sound Meditation. The basic concept is that a sophisticated computer program maps the date and exact time of your birth, as well as the geographic location where you were born and determines the sound of the earth’s vibrations that was emanating from deep inside its core at the precise moment you were born. In other words, the first thing you heard as you came into the world.

This unique sound is put into three words that have no meaning but replicate the sound you heard as you entered our world. These three primordial words are then used as a "mantra" when meditating. I normally do this meditation twice a day for a half hour at a time.

You can chant this mantra out loud or in your mind, but as I stood by her bed and watched her sleeping, I realized that she was also in the room with me when I was born and so I wondered if it would help her with her journey if I chanted this mantra to her.

So for about 15 minutes, leaning close to her ear so she could hear me, I repeated the mantra over and over that she and I together heard when I was born. She was near the end of her life and I wanted to recreate the sounds from the vibration of the world back so many years ago in what I hope (and believe) was a very special day for her. I know that sounds a little too "New Age" for some of you, but this was a really nice sharing experience for me. And I am convinced her breathing slowed, her body relaxed and she seemed to sleep more soundly.

So I sat down in the chair and did emails until about midnight when I fell asleep. About 1am the nurses came in to turn her on a different side which they do every 4 hours so she won't have bed sores.

They turned her toward me and although she did not have her glasses on, she suddenly lifted her head and looked inquisitively at me as if she was trying to figure out what the shape was that she was peering at. Suddenly, a slight smile came over her face and although she didn't say anything, she wiggled her fingers at me to say hi and I waved back. It was a wonderful, intimate exchange between the two of us that I will treasure the rest of my life.

The next morning, Tuesday of this week, we had to tell her goodbye and this time it was forever as we were flying back to Atlanta and would not see her again until the funeral. I woke up in her room on Tuesday and stayed longer than the other days. I then told her we would both be back later in the day and I went back to the hotel.

As the day progressed I became more and more upset at the thought of having to tell her good-bye again. Fear and worry are powerful and disabling to all of us and I am not an exception. I went for a walk thinking it would help but it didn't. I went back to the room and had a complete breakdown. I think it helped me as I got many of my tears out.

Then I decided it was time to go so we drove back to the Hospice and as we walked in I froze up, thinking I could not do this. I went to the social worker and told her how much I was struggling and this wonderful woman helped me understand the process of dying for my Mom and grieving for us and made some suggestions. It was very, very helpful and I suddenly felt strong.

We went in the room and Mom was asleep and we just watched her for a while. Finally I leaned over and called her name and she opened her eyes, smiled, and with a little fear in her voice she asked "It is time for you to say goodbye, isn't it?" I stroked her face and hair and looked into her blue eyes and I told her "yes, it is" and spoke into her ear so she could hear clearly. I told her that I loved her, that she was the best Mom ever, and that I felt she had made the right decision to stop eating as this was not a life she wanted to live. I told her we were okay with her decision because we knew it was what she wanted and that we would meet her in a few years in a different place. I told her not to worry about any of us as we had all been very blessed in our lives and would be fine. I told her I wanted her to know that we all knew she wanted to leave this world and she should do that without any worries and knowing that we supported her decision. I held her tight and she squeezed me and kissed my hand and my cheek and told me she loved me. I asked her to save a place in the next life for us, kissed her and told her goodbye and that Cathy wanted to talk to her and I walked out of the room. Cathy spent some time with her and told her similar things and when se came out we walked away hand in hand from the Hospice, got in the rental car and drove up to Squaw Peak, in the mountains since my Mom so loved mountains, and sat on a bench trying to think of the thousands of good things we had because of my Mom. It was just awful.

Today, Saturday, marks the 22nd day without any kind of food for Mom. We are at our home in Destin because Cris, Landon and Wes are flying down from DC today for a spring break week, but we all know we may all be on a plane for Arizona any time soon to celebrate Mom's life.

Mom would not be happy with me if I wrote this posting and only talked about the sad stuff. She was always ready for a laugh and as I watched her that day I remembered something she did once when she was angry with me.

I was probably 16 years old and a rebellious handful. No matter what time I was told I should be back home at night, I always was late. But I would always go into her room and let her know I was home and Mom could smell the odor of alcohol 25 yards away which sometimes created a few issues.

One night I came in 2 or 3 hours late and went in to tell her I was home. I reached down and touched her to wake her and she didn't move. I shook her a little and she still didn't move. I listened and it sounded like she wasn't breathing. I panicked and as I leaned over her again to try and shake her she suddenly yelled "Boo" and shot out of the bed and I screamed and ran into the kitchen. She laughed for 15 minutes and said she didn't think she could hold her breath another five seconds.

I've been jumpy ever since then.

Below is a photo I took of Mom on April 16th of last year. How much has changed in that year.