When Homes Welcome Guests Back to the Past

From my TravelOkcity column, published 2011.

The Lykes back in the 30s.

Several weeks ago, we received over 400 people into our private sanctuary. Yes, our house was part of the 16^th Annual Tour of Historic Homes in Linwood Place.  Every year, some of Oklahoma City’s historic neighbourhoods showcase historic homes, opening them to the public for a walk back in time. Gatewood  Historic District and Heritage Hills opened their doors last October, while the Mesta Park Holiday Tour is something to look forward to in December when guests can enjoy the festive lights at night.

A snapshot of the olden days.

Having just moved in a year to our little abode, I was hesitant to have strangers into our home, to have them take a peek into my bathroom, which I hardly ever have time to clean with round-the-clock diaper duties on top of being a housewife and a writer. But my bathroom still has the original art deco black and white tile that has been installed when it was built in the 1930s. I personalized the bathroom’s nostalgic details with red and gold accents, mother and child artworks, and damask prints. Like the bathroom, the house features original fixtures and details accentuated with our personal touches. Out in the front yard, a pillar bears a plate that says: Linwood Place Circa 1930.

How can I possibly keep this from the public? How can I deny people the opportunity to travel back in time, to relive the days of eclectic art and design, the period of beautiful contradiction?

So reluctantly, I put out the welcome mat,  because I knew that just as people could pick up a few tips in house restoration by going through our renovated and preserved home , I also knew that I could develop a better sense of appreciation for what I have and possibly gain insight in travelling back to the past.

Our little breakfast nook with pictures we've collected from our travels.

Five other houses opened their doors as well, structures that I believe deserve to be featured in architectural or interior design magazines not only for the interesting architectural and historical features but also because of the work they’ve done inside, accentuated with their personal selections that exhibit sophistication and a great respect for the past.  Two in particular stood out, because I thought that they reflected our own tastes and aspirations, although in a grander scale.

When we moved in, this backyard was bare.

One of my favorite houses is the 1929 Tudor revival style cottage. A young couple brought contemporary elements to the house while preserving its historic aspects. The remarkable archway leading to their dining room, an example of peaked and curvilinear millwork and carpentry of the era, melds beautifully with the modern pieces of art that they brought home from their adventures around the world. 

looking out to a bright future

Like the young couple, my husband and I have always taken pride in the work that we’ve done so far for the house and the items that we’ve collected, because most, if not all, hold a special meaning to us. Every artwork tells a story of where we’ve been to or what we believe in. We shy away from mass produced store-bought items and would rather wait for that perfect piece even if it was created by a no-name artist in a small town in Hanoi, salvaged from an estate sale, or brought to life from an antique shop. The process of buying for the house has almost become like a treasure hunt.

Another house that I loved is a Prairie School style home that features a wood burning stove and interesting pieces of artwork that tell much of the owner from the reverse prints done in antique windows to the stories told through deliberately arranged wine bottle cork stoppers. 

While entering these homes,  I thought  of the importance of the present and the relevance of the past, of keeping one’s own preferences while still giving homage to the past, and how the marriage of both is not as easy to achieve, but when it is attained, the result is almost magical. And I’m not just talking about interior  design.

While I grasped on the glass doorknobs and  walked under the cathedral ceilings, I marvelled at how the past is still very much alive around us, alive in a sense that it is still significant and vibrant and can teach us a few things about functionality, beauty, and pride. Walking on the shiny hardwood floors, I heard subtle creaks whispering reminders about the value of preserving history that they may serve as lessons for our future generations.

I consider this responsibility a gift. I consider it a privilege to own a home with great historical significance, to protect and preserve this cultural structure that it may endure as a portal to the past and a landmark of wisdom through the years.

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Fall 2012

An Autumn Affair

Taken on our breakfast nook pub table.

On the first day of fall, we headed to the Ozark Mountains in Ridgedale Missouri. I think going on a trip is the best way to start the season. Because although traveling takes us away from home, it also - according to Albert Camus - brings us back to ourselves.

Big Cedar Lodge is an 800-acre Table Rock Lake luxury resort.

We returned feeling more like ourselves, but even more alive. We stayed at the Wilderness Club in Big Cedar Lodge, a sprawling mountain luxury resort that is so pretty beyond words, so I’m not even going to try to describe it. Anyway, I will be writing about it soon in one of my magazines. 

Charming cottages built in the 1920s dot the purple fields.

It was a wonderful four-day weekend with family and an old friend from high school. Before graduation, she left for NY, and we reunited over a decade later in the Midwest. Over a bottle of Beaujolais Nouveau and slices of stilton with cranberry, we laughed, we talked, we gossiped, and we reminisced. And in the process, we discovered how friendship can transcend time and distance.

The friendship that defies time and distance.

The trip was also a rediscovery of my little boy who is growing up so fast. It was an entirely different experience traveling with him now that he is more mobile, more inquisitive, and definitely more demanding. During our last trips to Texas and the East Coast, he was hardly a crawler and didn’t react much to the new things around him. 

Enjoying the fresh mountain air.

The Ozarks not only opened the mountains and a new version of ourselves to us, it also offered us a new way to travel: in luxury. 

We bought a time share plan with BlueGreen Resorts, guaranteeing us three -five star accommodations for at least one international trip and one US trip every year for a lifetime, all for a one-time cost payable in a year and a minimal yearly maintenance fee. This means that from here on now, we don’t have to pay a single cent for our lodgings and no longer have to worry about our budget no matter how much the rates appreciate. What really reeled us in aside from the thousands of participating hotels and resorts abroad is the fact that we’re buying a deed for an actual property, so if we choose to someday, we can resell it or pass it on to our kids. In short, it’s an investment that we get to enjoy every year.

That little house at the end of the path.

We’ve met an old timer who bought into this ownership decades ago and he said it has worked out well for him. His children have also benefitted immensely, that he just recently bought into a bigger share.

The share comes with a lot of perks, but here’s a big tip if you’re interested in this kind of ownership. Go to a Bass Pro Shop and ask about the Bluegreen vacation preview event. If you sign in through Bass Pro, you will get even additional bonuses. As one of their sweeteners, they’ve invited us back to recap on our investment for a free 3-night weekend. We’re going back this November to explore Branson, home to the biggest outlet malls in the country and the live music show capital of the world. I’m more interested in the former.

The apples on the banner are from a brief stopover in Arkansas.

The time share is represented by one of the key chains on the banner. In the middle is an MG keychain for my husband’s first midlife crises car. I say "first" because seeing how he looks up to his dad, he may follow in his dad’s footsteps. The senior Lykes started with an MG, followed by another one, then a Porsche, before he finally settled to a BMW Z3 convertible. Mind you, my husband has actually not reached the mid mark yet, but I figured he deserves the MG Midget as a reward for all the hard work he has done for the past few years. The British ever car, a 1979  MG Midget, the last MG ever manufactured, is also our “date night” car.

The 1979 MG Midget is the last one manufactured by the company.

I once read that making your child (or children) the center of your marriage is a big mistake. Family should be the center of marriage. Although I would readily give up my life for my son,   I believe that every member of the family should have equal importance, otherwise the child can grow up spoiled and dependent and the marriage may suffer. Our date night car is a representation of my belief because the car only seats two and therefore gives us the occasional opportunity to rediscover ourselves as man and wife. This is also why my husband and I go on second honeymoon trips every now and then.

This tiny tinker toy will be a long time project for him, but so far, it's been running purrrfectly.

The last keychain, with the interlocking GG, is for a Gucci tote that I recently purchased. After all, don’t we love to travel in style?  Since I moved to the States, the money that I’ve been earning in the Philippines has been going to charity. The rest is saved up as pocket money for our visits back there. Just recently I decided to splurge on myself. So while you see the classic entertwined Gucci insignia on the canvass, I see my articles written all over it. I also love it because I can stuff all my essentials in it: camera and diapers included!

A babe is a better accessory than a Birkin bag (or a Gucci for that matter).

Finally, the featured book: Jack Kerouac’s On the Road, said to be the novel that defined a generation. Also a novel that’s hard to read. After reading a book with a language so fluid, I fumbled constantly with Kerouac’s beat. While I was never one for poetry, beat poetry I somewhat appreciated because of the cadence, the exuberance, and the madness in which it seems to be spit out of the writer’s mind. But on long prose, it became a struggle for me, which explains why I am only halfway through the book.

The Devil's Pool in God's country.

I am however enjoying the joy ride so far. The novel gave me a backseat in the character’s mud- sputtered ’49 Hudson as his caravan zipped across America with reckless abandon. It also offered me a seat in the character’s messy and carefree mind.  And then in every page or so, I would encounter some of Kerouac’s brilliant lines, including one of my all-time favorites which I shall leave you with to fall for:

“the only people for me are the mad ones, the ones who are mad to live, mad to talk, mad to be saved, desirous of everything at the same time, the ones that never yawn or say a commonplace thing, but burn, burn, burn like fabulous yellow roman candles exploding like spiders across the stars and in the middle you see the blue center light pop and everybody goes "Awww!"

***

As the seasons change, so will my desktop banner. I will be adding little touches to it, moving the items around, and customizing it for the season. I will archive its transformation on My Desk. 

Read more about how I put the banner together and how my real writer's desk looks like at My Desk. And tell me how your desk looks like, and I will tell you who you are.

 

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Travel, Technology, and the Golden Ticket (Thoughts and Tips on Applying for a U.S. Tourist Visa)

From my Tech Thoughts column in Speed Magazine, 2007

* since this was published years back, certain details (like fees) may no longer be applicable

The 10 year multiple visa that I never get to use anymore since I moved to the States.

I just got a transit visa for my trip to the Republic of the Marshall Islands (RMI) in Micronesia. After queuing for four hours in the embassy, I can’t help but thank the powers that be for technology. If not for the wonders of the electronic appointment system, I would have been watching the sunrise by the Manila Bay while I waited in line with hundreds of other hopefuls. Before the appointment system, my mother lined up for half a day to apply for a visa; she started at the crack of dawn, was done before the sun set, and was  rewarded with a 10 year multiple tourist visa for her valiant efforts. I don’t think I have her willpower.

It’s ironic that to go on a vacation, to leave the concerns of a complex world, I have to go through layers of bureaucracy and stacks of documentation. To feel the powdery sands between my toes and allow the whispers of the tide to ease away the stresses of the modern world, I have to have immunization shots, line up at the embassy, accomplish application forms, book flights, clear up my schedule, endure an overnight flight, pass through several x-ray systems, CT scanners and metal detectors, and take off my shoes even before I get to the beach.

All the hoops I had to go through just to go sailing and sun burnt!

Continental Airlines, the only airline that flies to the RMI, changes planes in Guam, a U.S. territory. To be granted entry to their airport, to use their restroom, to grab a burger and to park my derriere on one of their chairs while I wait for Continental to change planes, I have to obtain a U.S. transit visa on top of my RMI visa. It wouldn’t have been too much trouble except that to get a transit visa, I had to go through the same process of applying for a tourist visa. That meant facing that one stranger that could change the direction of my flight. Fortunately, my recent interview was uneventful.

The interrogating consul inside the glass aquarium was an indifferent but efficient lady. She politely asked several curt questions answerable by monosyllables. Frankly, I wasn’t sure if she was asking or merely thinking aloud:

“You’ve been to the States before./?”

“Yes.”

“You’re requesting for a transit visa./?”

“Yes.”

“Your brother is a U.S. Citizen./?”

“Yes.”

A rustle of papers. The click-clack of the keyboard. Then, “take this to the courier.” She shoved the highly coveted piece of paper through a small opening on the glass partition and without another word, my interview was done. She didn’t even bother to look at my papers. It took me over a month to get all my documents in order: bank statements, certification from editors, school papers, car registration, etc. All that hard work for nothing. I had a ready spiel on how I need to come back because I’m completing my novel for my thesis or how passionate I am about my work here, but it wasn’t the time nor the place for idle chatter.

THE golden ticket that will allow you access to almost anywhere in the world..almost.

Who cares? I got the golden ticket. It was a 1/4^th sheet of yellow paper that heralded my trustworthiness. It took every ounce of control not to wave the paper in the air for the world to see. As I watched the others walk out with their heads down, hands empty, I pondered on this phenomenon. Year after year, thousands get turned down. Some of them walk out defeated, because they are made to feel unworthy to walk on sacred soil so fertile that it flows of milk and honey. Yet, year after year they trod on, reduced to numbers (“3208 to window ten, please”), forking out a hundred dollars for an application that they themselves printed, suffering the humiliation of being finger-scanned like criminals, herded by Filipino attendants who carry on like they’re better than because they work for the American embassy, ordered to wait in long lines, leave their mobile phones, stand up, sit down, hush.

Some of my travel buddies are afraid to apply for a visa for fear of being denied,

and to think one of them already had a multiple visa before!

Who am I to complain when I was just granted a visa? Who am I to criticize when just like many, I too enjoy and benefit from the inventions of American  geniuses like Alexander Graham Bell, Bill Gates, and Ralph Lauren? What right do I have to gripe when I sometimes still long for the electric air of the Big Apple? Who am I to protest my four hours of waiting when over a decade ago, people lined up 48 hours in advance?

Fortunately, with technology taking over the appointment systems, the long lines had been cut to more than half. Interview appointments are set either through phone or online (http://manila.usembassy.gov). The former costs fifty pesos a minute (don’t get me started on the rate) but you get personalized service through a Filipino operator who will tell you what to do and what not to do like not mixing up your appointed time (which I of course did) lest you wait another two weeks for the reschedule. Beforehand, you must pay the application fee of a hundred dollars at an accredited bank.

In MY airline, I won't require a golden ticket!

A more convenient option is the online reservation which will cost ten dollars extra for a VisaPoint PIN. The VisaPoint is a web-based information and appointment system that allows you to view information on nonimmigrant visas, pay for your application through a credit card, and schedule an appointment by choosing from available dates and times.

Application forms are now printed from the site. Answers must be keyed in before the form can be printed, eliminating errors and illegible handwriting. Adobe Acrobat Reader version 5.0 or higher is required to download the form.  The site also prompts for invalid entries, so you are sure that you are typing in the correct entries. A barcode, containing all the information you entered, is printed on the application form. Conveniently, the system allows you to generate copies for Family Duplicates.

My Choice. My Airline.

Online technology has made traveling more convenient in other ways. To purchase tickets, there is no need to step out of the house. The International Air Transport Association has committed to 100% e-ticketing this year. It’s easier to check for availability, pass miles and flight status. If they can work on a video conference interview with the embassy then we don’t even have to leave the house until our departure date. But with the way things are going, travel may soon become virtual. To explore the Old Quarter of Hanoi or the overgrown Japanese hospital of Roi Namur in RMI, I may no longer need to step out of the confines of my room. How’s that for travel convenience?

Why bother? The goal is to collect as many stamps as possible.

I don’t know about you, but I still relish the feel of the sun on my bare back and never tire of the joys of hoarding complementary airline toothbrushes in spite of the long lines and overweight fees. This reminds me, I gotta go pack my sunblock.

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