Unlocking My Cellphones

         

L-R: Samsung SGH-A187, ZTE Avail, Alcatel 871A, Huawei Fusion 2

          Last year prior to my trip to Zamboanga, I purchased an unlocked GSM cellphone from Ebay. The Samsung SGH-A187 was a basic Blackberry style phone - the  with no mp3 and video capture capabilities even though it had a camera. It served its purpose well as a portable communications device during my short 10 day visit. I was using Virgin Mobile in the U.S. running on the CDMA network which is incompatible with GSM networks.
         When I returned from Zamboanga, I migrated my cellphone service to AT&T pay as you go which was $25.00 every three months, compared to $20 for Virgin Mobile. With the new service, I also bought a locked Android phone from AT&T. Upon signing up, I asked customer service if they could unlock my phone. They said that the unlock code wasn't available yet and besides, I had to use their service at least 6 months. Time went by and I forgot to ask them again. In the meantime, I bought 2 other locked phones. One was a Blackberry style Alcatel which was on sale for $29.99, but because I had a $10 coupon and an in-store rebate, my final price was less than $20. Although locked, I liked that it had a built-in FM radio which I like listening to when I'm working out outdoors. The problem with that phone is that it pocket dialed 911 a lot, so I bought a hugely discounted refurbished Huawei Android phone from the AT&T website, which also had an FM radio, and that is what I've been using the last 4 to 5 months.
          I finally revisited the unlocking requirements and saw that I had met all the requirements, provided the cellphone manufacturer has released the unlock code to AT&T. I plugged in the IMEI number to the latest phone I had which was a Huawei Fusion 2 and my phone number. No dice. The website immediately told me that it was not available to be unlocked. I tried the Alcatel with similar results. When I put in the info for the ZTE Avail, I got a message saying it could be unlocked. I received 2 automatically generated emails from AT&T right away. The first one saying thank you for my unlock request and that a code will be provided to me within 2 to 5 business days. The second email basically cancelled the message of the first one and asked me to call technical support for the unlock code. I waited a few days before doing so, hoping the first message was correct. Well, I never got sent the unlock code so I finally called tech support.
          Immediately I detected that I had reached a call center in the Philippines because even though the agent who answered tried his best American accent, there was still a hint of Filipinoness in it. I gave him the IMEI numbers for the ZTE Avail but he didn't find an unlock code for it. He explained that some manufacturers only sell certain models exclusively to AT&T and does not supply unlock codes for those. What surprised me though is that when I asked the agent to plug in the numbers for my more recent Alcatel and Huawei phones, the unlock codes were available contrary to what their website told me! After giving me instructions on how to unlock the phones with the codes, we ended the call.
          It was now time to see if those unlock codes worked. The only other SIM card I had at home was from Smart which I used when I was in Zamboanga, so I tried that one. Open the back, insert the SIM card, replace the cover, turn on the phone, type in the unlock code. First the Alcatel, then the Huawei. Success on both! I now have 2 unlocked GSM quad band phones (3 if you include the one I bought from Ebay). Look out world, I'm now equipped to use those phones in whatever country I want if I ever get there! And thanks, AT&T.

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Joblessness, Errand Walks, Zamboanga City, MNLF

If you think I don't visit the Philippines often enough (about once every 15 years) when I was employed, what more if I don't have a job? I won't be able to afford the plane fare and I can't swim that far. Perhaps if I hide in a box and ship myself via LBC...

I've been doing a few of what I call, errand walks lately. That means I combine my workout with something I had to do. Kinda like my meanderings in Zamboanga last year. I had errand walks to Walmart to replenish my fiber gummies, and on another day to Pacific Hospital to turn in my College Hospital application forms. Then another time, I did a jog/walk to pick up my blood pressure meds at Walmart Pharmacy. The last one I did was a few days ago when I did an hour walk before picking up a bag of Gevalia coffee which was on sale at Von's grocery store. Speaking of walking workouts - in the past I've walked with a backpack with a 15 pound weight in it. I tried putting in another 15 pound weight and took out the trash while testing the heavier backpack. I barely made it to the trash bin and back to my place. Hard to imagine how soldiers can carry a 50 pound pack, body armor, weapons, and ammo, while dodging bullets.

Well, I had to fill out an application form for College Hospital in hopes of being rehired by them, so I had to dig out old applications from more than 10 years back to look at my job history. In the process, I found some old printouts of my résumé as well as the old 3.5 inch floppy disk I had the original saved in which had all the proper formatting. Even though I have a 1987 vintage Toshiba laptop that could still read the floppy disk, there was no way to transfer it to new media. What I did was scan the paper copy and saved it as a pdf file, then found a free online pdf to MS Word converter. It worked! Now I don't have to retype the whole thing because I have an editable Word file.

In 1974, although I was no longer there, the MNLF disrupted our lives in Jolo and my family along with countless other families and friends became refugees in Zamboanga. Zamboanga, which embraced these refugees unconditionally, had become their adopted city since then. Now the same MNLF group, without conscience, is trying to do the same to Zamboanga City for no other reason than regain their so called old glory, because they have become insignificant for decades. Once again, they have managed to disrupt the lives of people. How this is supposed to endear them to the populace or gain sympathy for their cause, I have no idea. Unless their plan is to gain overwhelming power and oppress and persecute the people like the former government of Myanmar (Burma). Did Nur Misuari or his cohorts really believe they could take the whole of Zamboanga with just 200 or so followers, or perhaps he thought that if he started something the other MNLF factions would rally behind him? Zamboanga City is way larger and more spread out than the town of Jolo. What he is doing in Zamboanga is almost like the ill fated Bay of Pigs invasion of Cuba, except those Cubans were trying to take over a country. If he had a large number of sympathizers in 1974, he doesn't appear to have now because he has become insignificant. A lot of Tausugs despise him to this day for what he did to Jolo. Probably something akin to my grandparents and parents generation's hate for the Japanese even long after World War II. Just bear in mind though, that I have been away from that part of the world for a long time so what I write here are just my impressions, and who knows, I could be grossly mistaken, but I base these impressions on what I have read in newspapers and social media.
And to think that Zamboanga was one of my choices of cities to retire in. This incident totally cancelled out that option. Heck, it would even be difficult to fly there in the morning just to have satti for breakfast and lunch then leave in the afternoon for fear that a similar incident could erupt anytime and one can get stranded there for days.

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How Mama Saved Us From Financial Hardship

   
          Amid my recent expenses last year, i.e. plane fare to and from the Philippines, traffic ticket, paramedic and ambulance charges plus emergency room co-pay, I would been in a financial hole for a few months. To add to those financial concerns, I anticipated digging into my savings for Mama's hospital bills, caregiver salary, rent, utilities, and medications. A couple of times, I've sent her my tax refunds for expenses in addition to the ones I send for her birthday and Christmas. This is just something that Filipinos do for their relatives in the Philippines and I actually fall short of what others do because they send money all year round.
          Thankfully, I did not fall off the fiscal cliff and this is due to the unanticipated gift that our Mama left us. Even when her death was imminent and through her eventual passing, Mama was still thinking about her children. We have always been aware that she never wanted to burden us, but unbeknownst to me, she had a modest stash of money in her bank accounts left over from years and years of saving and the sale of our Zamboanga house (which I helped pay off after Papa had his stroke). How she made all of that last without any income for more than two decades leaves me in awe of her budgeting prowess. This is how I think she was able to do it - by mostly living off the interests of her regular bank accounts and time deposits while keeping the principal amounts steady. Sounds simple enough, isn't it? Well, if it were so and if other individuals and governments followed such example, there would be no budget deficits.
          After we buried Mama in Zamboanga, my brother sent me an accounting of expenses and cash left over. He had briefly mentioned the estimated amount before I Ieft the Philippines and it astounded me then and continued to do so when Larry sent me the itemized list. With Mama's own savings and despite having no other income for decades, we were able to pay for her hospitalization, doctor's bills, caregiver and helper salaries, medications, and funeral expenses. With all that, there were still some left over for me and my brother to share. As I mentioned before, it is a modest amount dollarwise, but enough for me to catch up with my bills after Larry sent me the first installment. I don't know how his share is going to affect his financial status, but I'm sure it's going to help a great deal in one form or another.
          As of this writing, I am still awaiting a second installment from my brother and am seriously considering paying down the principal of my mortgage with it. So Mama, we appreciate everything you have done for us and given us in life as in death. What you have done with this unexpected gift is an example of what we can aspire to in our own lives. To me, it is not the end result but how you led your life to accomplish that result which ended up as a gift to us, your children. Thank You So Much and We Love You MAMA.

The Zamboanga Chronicles

I went to Zamboanga City, Philippines at the end of August to see my mother and brother and to face end-of-life issues, and came back to the U.S. two weeks later. This is a compilation of my posts about that trip. Some of them, I can't bear to read again because they are too emotional for me. I hope some of you who have dealt with the similar situation can appreciate how that feels. Thank you.

A Zamboanga Trip To Visit Mama

Pilar Nono De Las Penas - A Eulogy

The rest that follow are more or less chronological.

Los Angeles To Incheon To Manila

Manila To Zamboanga

Momsie In Weemsie In Zamboanga City

Zamboanga - The First Day: A Day of Two Reunions

Sunday - A Fateful Decision Day

Walkabouts In Zamboanga

Searching For Tramadol To Supplement Morphine

Missing Caregiver, Irene Hassan, Ateneo High School and Zamboanga Malls

Pilar's Last Days

Setting The Funeral Wheels In Motion

Returning To Los Angeles From Zamboanga

These last two are just random thoughts that were not addressed in the previous posts.

Random Thoughts About Zamboanga - Part 1

Random Thoughts About Zamboanga - Part 2

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Random Thoughts About Zamboanga – Part 2

I passed this plaza and the city hall behind it almost every day in my  walkabouts

Then there was this woman named Janna who is at least a couple of decades younger whom I met on Facebook because she has the same last name as a high school batchmate I was looking for. She also came from the same high school as we did. After a few text messages, I finally met her at her print shop in Southway Shopping Center and as a souvenir, she gave me a coffee mug with my picture on it which she downloaded from Facebook. Nice to finally meet you Janna, and thanks for the mug with my mug J.

The mug says "I Love Zambo"

While Mama was still in the hospital, my kindergarten teacher also happened to be there just a couple of rooms away. I visited Sister Ursula and reintroduced myself. Despite the hundreds if not thousands of kindergartners who went to her class through the decades, she still remembered me. Most remarkable was what she remembered about my brother Larry. She told him that he was used as the baby Jesus in a live Nativity scene at the Catholic church in Jolo one Christmas. Sister Ursula, you don’t look a day older than you were in 1962. I pray that they have resolved your medical problems by now.

Still while in the hospital I met Dr. Romulo Garcia, his wife Aida, and daughter Joy. They were in the emergency room because if I remember correctly, the doc had problems with his blood sugar and blood pressure. We were townmates in Jolo and former neighbors in Zamboanga. They happen to be in the States right now visiting some relatives near San Diego. Hey Joy, if ever you read this, you’re looking as cute as ever and I might even be crushing on you in my old age :D. You’ve got my email address and phone number so if you ever wanna get in touch… After all, you’re single and so am I J.

What do you think folks? Is she cute or what? Photo downloaded from Facebook

One thing I didn’t know until last month was that Mama was one of the first students of Notre Dame of Jolo Girls’ Department. As such, her batch was honored at the Notre Dame Grand Reunion three years ago. Irene Hassan gave me a program from that reunion. Unfortunately the batch picture of Mama was blurry and the people were unrecognizable. Well, what can you expect from an early 1950’s picture?

I was warned by my sister-in-law before I left for Zamboanga about small time kidnappers who would nab you on the street and ask for a small ransom. So I became vigilant during my walks, never going the same route twice in a row, and trying to always be aware of my surroundings. I survived Zamboanga without being kidnapped.

Owning a pharmacy in Zamboanga appears to be very good business. Each time I went to one, the counters were always swarming with customers. It didn’t matter which pharmacy it was - Joan’s, Oro, Mercury, and a couple of others which names I don’t remember.

I can truly say that I overdosed on satti in Zamboanga. I just wish there was more roughage in it, because the white rice tamu certainly didn’t cut it. I would have gotten more fiber if I chewed on the sticks, which were probably not much tougher than the chicken skewered on them.

Whenever people asked about Mama’s ailment and I told them colon cancer, responses would almost always mention Cory Aquino’s valiant battle with it and losing anyway, probably shortening her life with aggressive chemotherapy. Mama decided with the opposite treatment plan, meaning doing nothing  after the initial surgery, and lived a better life for more than 5 years after.

On the night of Mama’s death, I had gone commando for a few hours between the time I was awakened, up to the time I returned home pre-dawn. You see, I slept in this very thin technical shorts with no built in underwear liner because of the heat and humidity. At least the shorts kept some semblance of modesty and decency instead of being completely naked while staying in other people’s homes. In the dark of night you couldn’t see through the shorts. At least I hope you couldn’t and didn’t.

          It just occurred to me a month later that the metal plate I’ve had in my left ankle since 1972 didn’t set off any metal detectors in airports. I was in a motorcycle accident that year.

                Well folks, I think that’s it for my Zamboanga experiences. Thanks for reading if you did and I hope I didn’t bore you too much. 

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Random Thoughts About Zamboanga – Part 1

These are random things I wasn’t able to cover in my recent posts about my trip to Zamboanga.

I had mentioned that I didn’t sleep well while I was in Zamboanga and not even on the flight back to L.A.  It wasn’t until I was in my own bed when I arrived on Thursday, September 13^th, that I slept fitfully for 8 hours with some pharmacological help. Unfortunately, for several more weeks after that, I still suffered from insomnia. Before I left for Zamboanga, I would wake up at about 4 a.m. and could not sleep again. When I returned, I couldn’t fall asleep until 3 a.m., wake up at about 8 and my mind would feel cloudy the rest of the day until it awakened at about 7 p.m. 30 plus hours of jet lag is difficult to catch up with. Although I had a mild anti anxiety pill available while I was in Zamboanga, I didn’t want to take it because I didn’t want to be impaired in case something happened in the middle of the night. It turned out to be the right decision.

One of the more glaring observations I had in Zamboanga and perhaps that also goes for the whole Philippines, is the religiosity of the people. It seems like I’ve become more secular in my decades here in the U.S., that with the sudden exposure to so much religion, I experienced religion burn out after just a few days. There were so many rituals after someone dies and those rituals don’t necessarily serve the dead but just to make the living feel better about themselves. I apologize to the religious people for feeling that way. Despite my burn out on religion, I want to thank the Pabellon Family and Irene Hassan for their religious guidance.

Another major observation that was hard to miss was the kindness of people like the Tupaz and Pabellon families, the Mother Butler group, former classmates, relatives I haven’t seen in a long time, and even strangers. Somehow I had forgotten about the well known hospitality of Filipinos. Being a recipient of such hospitality, kindness, and compassion was a humbling experience. To the Tupaz Family, I heard that Mama was an investor in your company. In that case, she profited a thousandfold in the form of your kindness.

 I’m a loner by nature. I’ve never had so much face to face contact as I had in Zamboanga in the less than two weeks I was there. I had to brush up on my social skills rather quickly. Now, having returned to the U.S., I am starting to miss the human contact.

A few weeks before she died, my brother Larry told me that Mama gave away her handbags and shoes to the gay people operating a beauty salon next door. Then we gave away the rest later to the caregivers, helpers, and anyone who fancied anything. Each of Mama’s purses (and she had a lot) almost always contained a folding fan, a hanky, a rosary, and some money. I even found money I sent her two years ago. The receipt from the company I sent it through was with the money.

I use an internet appointment calendar and weeks before Mama’s birthday, the Memo To Me internet reminder service sent me an email saying that it was time to send money to Mama for her phone bill which I do once a year. Though I didn’t have to send money this year anymore, it still saddens me.

Another startling revelation was Mama’s remarkable memory. Even in her semi stuporous state, she would remind us what to do and even corrected the nurse in the hospital what medication she was scheduled  to take next.

           Thus concludes Part 1.

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Returning To Los Angeles From Zamboanga

Goodbye #59 Pilar St. - My home for two weeks.

(Cue music: J. Cole’s “I’m Coming Home”)

Thinking back to the night before I left Zamboanga City, I am hoping we had met all our dear Mama’s wishes before she died. I can’t think of anything we missed so I’m comfortable in thinking that we had done all she asked for in her last days and the few days that followed. Would you believe that a couple of years ago, Mama told me her goal was to reach at least the age of 80? Well, she planned that perfectly too. Incidentally, that happens to be my goal also. That evening, Larry and I invited the Pabellon and Tupaz families to dinner at the Grand Astoria Hotel Lotus Restaurant. Other than the children, this was the same group that planned Operation Pilar two weeks before and executed the plan to a T. As I mentioned before, these two families were the source of moral, emotional, spiritual, and physical support of Mama in our absence. We cannot thank them enough for what they have done to help Mama the past few years and especially the last few months, when the demands of her illness most likely also put a strain on those two families. We will owe them a debt of gratitude forever.

Dark and early Thursday morning, it was time to catch my 6:45 flight from Zamboanga to Manila. The compulsiveness to exercise will have to be satisfied later in the airport terminal hallways. Larry drove me to the airport taking a slightly circuitous route along Cawa-Cawa Boulevard. If I only knew that going all the way down Governor Lim Avenue took me to the seaside boulevard, I would have made that one of my exercise destinations too. Maybe if I ever make it back to Zamboanga, I’ll be able to run or walk along Cawa-Cawa. Larry dropped me off at the airport and and I felt sad as we hugged each other goodbye. He was staying a day or two more to tie up any loose ends. I was left to fend for myself one more time. You won’t, and I can’t believe how much dependent I had become on other people in the two short weeks I was there. Taken out of my element, I had become helpless and useless in Zamboanga.

Pretty soon Airphil Express departed Zamboanga City and landed in NAIA (Ninoy Aquino International Airport) Terminal 3. I had plenty of time to make it to Terminal 1 as I had a four hour layover. I asked an airport worker and a desk police officer where I could catch the shuttle bus. They pointed me to a certain direction. I went there and boarded the bus which left quickly because I filled the last seat. During my arrival a couple of weeks before, I had taken the shuttle from Terminal I to Terminal 3 without any problems. A few minutes into the trip, I noticed that we appeared to be going farther away from the airport so I asked my seatmate where the bus was heading to. She said Baclaran. Oops, that’s not where I wanted to go so I approached the driver to make sure. Sure enough the bus was heading downtown, so I quickly jumped off. How was I to know there where two kinds of shuttle service (one that went around three terminals and one that took you downtown)? I hailed a taxicab and asked to driver to take me to Terminal 1 where I was supposed to fly on Korean Airlines back to Incheon and L.A. I requested the driver to please turn on his meter since he hadn’t in the few seconds I was in the back seat. He started a conversation about his missed opportunity to move to Italy a few years back. Without being too specific, I told him why I was in the Philippines. Thankfully, the conversation was short because I had not been dropped by the shuttle bus too far away from NAIA. It was an 85 peso taxi ride (about $2.00).

I entered Terminal 1 and looked around for the Korean Airlines counters. Owing to my disorientation, I lined up behind a couple of people not noticing that one of them was in a wheelchair. Another oops because this was the handicapped line and I was redirected by an airport worker to the proper line. After checking in, I headed to the nearest money changer and except for a few hundred pesos for the terminal fee (550 pesos) and in case I had to buy food, I exchanged everything back to dollars. It was about that time that Leonard called and offered condolences. He only heard about Mama’s passing that morning via Facebook (the same way he heard I arrived in Zamboanga two weeks before). We chatted briefly and wished each other well. He said he may visit the U.S. again soon.

After that, I queued in the Immigration line and when I got to the counter, the lady asked me if I had changed the spelling of my last name because it didn’t appear in their database.. I said that when I became a U.S. citizen, I connected all the letters of my last name. I was then cleared to enter the departure area. I walked past the duty free stores and snack concessions and found my way to the Korean Airlines gate. I had about 2 hours to kill so I went back up front to get some food. I ate some overpriced arroz caldo with tough to bite chicken leg and a siopao. With still more time to kill, I decided to put in my walking workout by traipsing up and down a long hallway between the concession stands and the departure gate. Each way took about a minute and 15 seconds so you can do the multiplication on how many laps I had to take to finish 35 minutes. As usual, I was pulling my luggage while walking, just like I did at Incheon and Terminal 3 a few weeks before. The airport workers who were at their permanent posts were probably thinking how crazy I was (they were not completely wrong). At least I was able to satisfy my obligation to my body for the day and not miss a workout.

I don't know exactly what this was but it appeared like people depicting a wedding party was walking through Incheon Airport

The three hour flight from Manila to Incheon was pretty uneventful other than an old lady behind me getting mad at me for reclining my chair too far back which almost spilled water on her. I tried to get some zzz’s to no avail. I initially had the row of three seats all to myself until a man transferred from his more crowded row to take the window seat in mine. We had a couple of hours layover in Incheon so I connected to their wi-fi to check email and Facebook. I was out of cellphone range with either my U.S. Virgin Mobile service or Philippines SMART service so when the flight from Incheon to L.A. was delayed almost an hour, I had no way of contacting my neighbor who was supposed to pick me up at the airport. Since she works for Southwest Airways, I was hoping she was tracking my flight online. With that delay, I got a little peckish so I looked around the airport and found something familiar: Subway sandwiches. First I asked if they accepted dollars and how much the tuna sandwich was. The half sub size was $4.00 which I think would be similar to the U.S. price.  At least the Koreans did not overcharge, not like the 10 plus dollars hotdog, chips, and soda I got at LAX.

Before we boarded the plane to L.A., we went through another security check and this was probably because it was the anniversary of 9-11 and also because of the killing of the diplomat in Syria. This was slightly more rigorous since the x-ray machine wasn’t used but rather, security people opened our bags. Having passed that, we left rainy South Korea. Another 12 hour endurance event for the buttocks stuck in a 36 inch wide seat. At least that was better than the 32 inch seat of domestic planes. Speaking of buttocks, I noticed that despite the downsizing of toilet paper through the years in the U.S. the Koreans still appeared to have full sized ones. Or maybe the TP just looked bigger because the plane lavatories were too small. While the majority of passengers went to sleep between meals, my mind was constantly turning on and off, thus denying me the pleasure that others were too glad to partake of. Lack of sleep would be my norm to this day regardless of airplane seat or my own bed. My sleep patterns have been majorly destabilized.

When we arrived in LAX, we had to take a shuttle bus from where the plane dropped us off to the main terminal which was about a couple of miles away. Interesting twist there. While still on the plane, I texted my neighbor Colleen that we just landed and when I was at the Customs line she texted back that she was circling the airport while waiting for me. Fortunately, Customs didn’t hold me up and was soon waiting for Colleen outside the arrival area. While waiting there,  a lady asked to borrow my cell phone to call her daughter. They spoke in a language I didn’t understand. Was I happy to see Colleen and her son Kenny driving up. Finally, something and someone very familiar. I was back home. (Cue music: Randy Newman’s “I Love L.A.”)

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