A new life at site

6/09/06

It’s hard to believe that I am here and finally starting my project. And the housing situation is a surprise. I am staying in one of the biggest houses on the block. It’s a big pink house with a tall white wrought iron fence and a white balcony with hanging plants with red flowers. I also have several conveniences that I didn't expect to have: a shower head and flushing toilet. (This is not a common PCV experience.)

I was walking home from school last night on an overcast afternoon, I noticed that two neighborhood boys slowly strumming and harmonizing to a ballad in Tagalog on their porch. I grabbed a cup of coffee and stood in the doorframe of my house listening.

Eventually, they noticed me standing there and I slowly made my way over to the porch. It turns out that the house across the street is my host father’s brothers’ home. Only the mother and her son live there. The two boys were from neighboring houses and were friends of my host cousin. He is a character. He doesn’t say much but has these wide brown eyes that always seem to stare intently and too long as if questioning everything. He is one of those kids who probably drives teachers around here nuts because he is always thinking of reasons why a theory might not work or be accurate. He watches me intently with a curiosity too blatant and direct for a Filippino but his excuse could be that his parents have lived overseas since he was four and they visit only every two years and he may beaffected by their modern Italian ways.

As for my job, I’ve only been going into work for three days and I’m already totally exhausted. It isn’t the job. I haven’t actually started any projects. I’m still in the planning process. Gathering contacts, making courtesy calls, writing letters and forming initial relationships.

It’s the language barrier that is really making my days seem endless and lonely even though I’m constantly surrounded by people. I only understand a 1/3 of what people are saying most of the time. They only speak to me in English when I don’t understand the Tagalog translation.

I know that the only way to resolve this issue is by working harder at studying the language, but I am feeling restless to get beyond this transition point and be really integrated into the community. I know that this will take time and I need to have patience with myself.

I’m also anxious to make new friends in my neighborhood people who I can talk to about something other than work and my housing adjustments, just about life, pop culture, lighter topics. I’ve started playing Scrabble with two fellow teachers from the science department in the library. It’s a nice break in the day and a way to get to know the teachers without having to speak much. I also really want to get to know my host siblings and their cousins. I am going to buy a deck of cards tomorrow and see if they’ll play Tongits (kind of like Gin Rummy except there’s more strategy involved and you place bets each round) with me tomorrow night after work.

6/10/06

Kumakain (Eat)

My host parents are being exceedingly kind and trying to accommodate my vegetarian diet. They made a cream based soup with sweet potato leaves, okra, mungo beans (slightly similar to lentils) and lanka and an omlette with lanka (has the texture of artichoke heart but is more sweet than salty) and banana heart (unripe banana) that I completely inhaled. So delicious! I have so many good vegetarian recipes to add to the Peace Corps Filipino Vegetarian Cook Book. Another volunteer and I will most likely come up with several recipes of our own as well.

Taytay Falls

Regardless of the good dining experience this evening, I would undoubtedly have eaten with relish tonight. It was a busy day. I was up early cooking lunch for our hiking trip. We took two different jeepneys to get to Taytay Falls. One from Santa Cruz to Barungay MaJayJay and than took another jeepney from the terminal to Taytay Falls to somewhere on the other side of the mountain, it seems where the trail leading to the falls were. The reason were traveled all that way to see the falls, it was only 20 pesos to get into the park whereas the Pagsanjan Falls only 4 minutes from Siniloan is 700 pesos. And was it worth the trip? Definitely.

The best part really was trying to get to the last waterfall in the park. The first one was the largest but its beauty was completely overshadowed by campers sitting right one the rocks in their beach chairs cooking and playing radios. Tents were set up on the rocks everywhere. It was so bizarre. I guess that it is cool at night and that is why the camping tents were set up on the rocks but I kept wondering how so many people staying in such a small space could possibly be hygienic or good for the park environment.

We climbed past all the seasonal campers, around some large mossy boulders until we reached a small, fast moving gap in the path with an unestimated depth. We stood there each in our own minds weighing the risk against the reward until a group of ten year olds and their fathers lithely skipped past us and over the dreaded gap. Feeling foolish we started to make our way over to the gap. One father turned around and reached out his hands to take our bags across. Then, he held out his arms to help us cross. When we reached another fast moving current, he stood in the river and helped us cross by holding onto a branch above our heads and then climbing up a steep boulder and being hauled over it by the person above us. The next challenge was walking along several feet of root and mud created cliffs only a foot wide. Yes, I’m proud of myself too, considering there was a steep drop of at least 20 feet to the stream below. Once we got the last waterfall. (See pictures on flicker.com site.) A Filipino man, the same one, let us use his rubber coated cable to lower ourselves down along the side of the rock face where he stood ready to help lower us down, only a few feet below. Basically, we never would have had this little adventure without the help of a few strangers (Filipinos) generosity.

And this is one of the many times this has been the case in the short time that I have been here. Basically, I wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for the patience of my language instructor, the generosity and warm heartedness of my first host family and the welcoming spirit of the Filipino culture. I never would have made it this far. The Filipino people have made the hardest parts of the journey (so far) durable. Every time I’ve felt lonely or discouraged about learning the language, there was someone to talk to. (Of course, that also is true of my fellow volunteers, what would I have done without them!!)

Okay, enough with the sappiness this is starting to sound like an acceptance speech. What I really wanted to mention was the fantastic colors of the waterfall. The water is so clear but has this aqua green glow which one of the fellow volunteers believes is because of the lighting. I think it’s due to the chemicals in the water. Different types of linchen and plants on the rocks tend to make the water look a different color than it actually is. I'm just guessing, though. Also, as I looked around, I noticed small pinwheels of magneta covering many rocks at the water line and downward. I was amazed by the green and red colors and how there seemed to be not one kind of moss but several different shapes, lengths and sizes. Why was this so fascinating to a non-science major? The colorful affect of rose, green, white, red rocks all in the same shallow pool of water look like a Maxwell Fairchild painting.

Once we finish the hike, we returned to the jeepney terminal, a simple concrete bus station stop, doubling as a ticket box office with a card table and water-logged record book. (Everywhere you go in the Philippines you are asked to sign in and out, from the administrative offices of municipio (government) buildings to the smallest tourist attractions.) In place of a guard in a booth and an automated gate are two boys standing on either side of the gate. One pulls the rope to lower the stripped vertical plank (weighed down on one end by two full rice bags) across the road and the other raises the plank by leaning on the weights.

We waited for some time and ended up walking down the road before stopping a jeepney going in the opposite direction. We were lucky we got on before the jeepney got back to the campsite. Not only were the two long benches along the bed of the truck filled, but people squatted in the aisles facing forward and people sat on the roof of the truck, the legs hanging over the roof rack. One person even sat on the hood of the jeepney on the passengers’ side at one point. When we went up hills all the people on the roof had to get off and walk until we got to the top of the hill.

6/12/06
Independence Day
Today is the official day the Philippines recognize their independence from the Spanish and Americans. We stood in the town plaza, all organization representatives dressed in their pleated pastel toned uniform or polo shirt with the department/organizational shield on the right hand pocket. People presented flowers at the statues of Jose Rizal, Andre … and a WWII memorial all in the same section of the plaza square in recognition of all the important people who died and fought for the independence of the Filippino people. We also sang the “Bayan Magiliw”, the Filippino National Anthem and “ The Siniloan Hymn"

Belonging is important here. Uniforms denote ones unity with an organization. Recognition of titles is also expected. If someone holds an important role in their office or an organization in their spare time, you refer to them by their title: Priniciple, General Manager, or Chief So-and-so. Titles are a source of pride.

Afterwards, we had a meeting at a very nice restaurant outside of town, which to my “pagkamuhi”, displeasure, there was a videoke machine. The group insisted that I sing “Cruzin”. Big mistake. I have never been so embarrassed that I had a physical reaction. Sweat was suddenly trickling down my temples, back, neck, I was so nervous. The entire faculty staff was present including all the music teachers who undoubtedly laughing at me. How embarrassing. Fortunately, everyone couldn’t have been more pleased that I was a good sport and sang for them. I also showed them a little sample of my salsa dancing skills with the help of my co-worker.

A challenge that I am still having a hard time stretching my mind around is the importance of socializing with those you work with and not just dropping by and dashing out like we do in the states. You can’t do that here. You have to sit down eat, talk, sing and dance. There’s especially pressure on me to give people a chance to get to know me. And I want to it’s just pulling me out of my comfort zone to sing and dance, entertain people and act comfortable around them when I’m not ready yet.

Everyone wants to get to know me. And since I do not speak the language fluently, I still feel out of my comfort zone most of the time, which is sometimes exhausting. But people really go out of their way to get “mahinhin” (shy) me to dance and sing with them and not be shy. They equate shy with feeling out of place and they clearly want me to feel at home. I really want to be a part of things, but I am always worried that I will do something foolish. And before I know it, I am in the eye of a whirling spiral of tsimoso (gossip) that I can’t understand. Sentences with my name in it running through conversation around me like factory room full of automated looms.

Texted Hiku to fellow Volunteers:

Ode to the Tone Deaf

Sing an English song
Laughter_ at me or with me?
Sing another song?!


Ants Everywhere
(Revised)

Two-way traffic
over white tiled railing,
both to and from
the same sanguine peel

Beading like mercury
ants move up my leg
nipping me now and then
to see if I’m ripe, yet.


Kinana (Earlier)~~~

I was walking with a co-worker to our post-flag ceremony marienda (mid-morning snack)/meeting and we discussed raising children in the US and here. I said that in the states parents don’t leave their kids at home without someone to watch them and without knowing that person’s resume, ten references and social security number. Here, people find out if a nanny is okay through word of mouth. Tsimoso(gossip) is invaluable in that way. If you do anything that whole neighborhood will undoubtedly know about it, so everyone is very careful about appearances for this reason. It’s very important to behave appropriately in public and present yourself in the way you want others to see you.

If interested in hearing some local bands that I hear daily if not every five minutes:

Kamikaze
6Cycle Minds
SugarFree
Imago
Radioactive Sago

Most Popular Songs:
“Darna”
“Cho-co-late”
“High”

Favorite American/English songs:
"My Humps"
Any thing by Celine Dion and Air Supply. (Let me put it this way, ABBA toured here last year.)

Siniloan Legend
The legend behind the name of the municipality of Siniloan is closely incorporated within a popular story handed down from earlier times of which it also constitutes the legend of the nearby municipalities of Siniloan. Long time ago, there was a group of men who concocted to trap a wild pig in preparation for the incoming merry-making. They started by folowing the trails leading to a mountains. After a long walk they were fortunate enough to spot a big wild pig eating grasses and fallen riped fruits under the tree which they called "LUMBANG". They tried to trap the wild pig by using a net but the pig was able to escape. The men were so irritated and frustrated that they named the place Lumban.And so they ran after the wild pig until they come into a thick forest. They named the place San Juan which today a part of the Municipality Of Kalayaan. The strong desire of the men to cupture the wild pig propelled them to search eagerly in every part of the forest. Later, they found the wild pig hiding in the shrubs. They were able to tie the wild pig'd snout but they failed to capture it totally because it was able to lose itself and eventually eluded them. From then on, they called the place "Longos" another part of Kalayaan Municipality.Once again, they tried to run after the wild pig until they came to plain area when they decided to construct a coral to be used a wild pig's cage. From there, wood were gatheredand vent were made using a chisel or paet. From this word emanated the name "Paete." Still the wild pig remained at large. However, they didn't lose hope. they began to search again until they found out that their arrows needed to be sharpened. They used a file or kikil to sharpen their arrows. From that, a certain municipality named Pakil originated.
After all those time, the wild pig was still on the loose. And when the certain time arrived, the wild pig appreared once more and was stroke heavily by an angry man which cause several broken bones in the wild pig's body. Hence, spung "Balian". A name they used to refer to that place. Nevertheless, the wild pig continued to run desprite of its fructured bones. This effort was macth by the eagerness of the men to capture the wild pig until they were able to strike the wold pig sharply again. This time, the tusk or pangil of the wild pig was hit by the blow. Thus, originated the name of certain Municipality known as Pangil. Quite not expected, the wild pig ran amuck and started to attack them. However, a snare or silo was launched before it happend. The wild pig then was trapped. Emanating from the word silo is a name of another municipality known as Siniloan. They were so jubilant that they immediately tied and carried wild pig to Santa Maria. While they were walking, they passed to place where the roads were cracked and ruuged or \nmabitac.Thus, the name Mabitac came into existence. They continued to walk until they arrived to a place where the people were celebrating in honor of the Virgin Mary. Here at long the wild pig was roasted for feast.

After all this time, the wild pig was still on the loose. And when the certain time arrived, the wild pig appreared once more and was stroke heavily by an angry man which cause several broken bones in the wild pig's body. Hence, spung "Balian". A name they used to refer to that place. Nevertheless, the wild pig continued to run desprite of its fructured bones. This effort was macth by the eagerness of the men to capture the wild pig until they were able to strike the wold pig sharply again. This time, the tusk or pangil of the wild pig was hit by the blow. Thus, originated the name of certain Municipality known as Pangil. Not quite expected, the wild pig ran amuck and started to attack them. However, a snare or silo was launched before it happend. The wild pig then was trapped. Emanating from the word silo is a name of another municipality known as Siniloan. They were so jubilant that they immediately tied and carried wild pig to Santa Maria. While they were walking, they passed to place where the roads were cracked and ruuged or mabitac.Thus, the name Mabitac came into existence. They continued to walk until they arrived to a place where the people were celebrating in honor of the Virgin Mary. Here at long the wild pig was roasted for feast.

Good-Bye Limay

5/27/06

Well, I said good-bye to my host family today. I had so much crap even though I'd already given away a whole bag of clothes to my host family. I had to fit everything in side a trike which is only a little bit wider than a telephone booth and half the length. It was like playing Tetris, trying to fit all my stuff in there. I snapped a picture of the house from the frontyard. It's on my flicker.com site. I was sad and scared about moving on. I never imagined how much my hose family would come to mean to me. They were my support system in so many ways and so kind and patient with me during those first few weeks as I struggled to communicate with them and manage the adjustments of the heat and washing with a dipper or without running water (when I showered late and the water was already shut down for the day).

I was sad that they weren't coming to the Handog (a celebration given to show ones appreciation). My host mother, host sister and host cousin were there when I got to the celebration. I felt like that day was my real graduation day celebration, because they were there to celebrate the end of my training and I would be pushed out of their protective nest. They participated in many of the silly games and activities each cluster team created to entertainthe families. My host family is using shy but they participated in many of the games and I was so pleased to be able to spend quality time with them before I left.

They text (nagtext) me often as do I but it's not the same. I miss them, but talking to them often makes me feel like I still have their support and friendship.I promised to visit them next November for their piesta.

The Aeta Experience

5/28/06

My site project is over. It was a success, for the most part. I knew in my own mind things that could’ve been done differently to make the event better. I’ve accepted that..sort of.

Of course, the success of the project is mostly due to the SK (youth development officer of Duale, Limay) and so the project’s success and future sustainability belongs to him. And as long as the community gains empowerment out of the activity and the seeds for a sustainable project, the project was a success. That’s the most important thing.

We went into the uplands of Duale where the Aetas live. Up, up, up the muddy inclines that seem unwilling to allow the white department of agriculture truck with its seven plus passengers, four standing in the bed of the truck, hanging onto the roof rack giddy and bright-eyed despite their ages (25, 25, 48 and 55). My cluster group was all enjoying the chance to see what other projects the department of agriculture in Duale. We saw several locations where only a field of tree stumps stood above ravines of eroded land.

6/06/06

The date is an anagram. And I feel like I've been turned inside out and backwards and still nothing has changed (for the better). Too tired to write anything else.


6/7/06

(Entry from 6/5/06 continued)
The tree farm in the hills we stopped to meet a groundskeeper for Dept Ag. The Dept Ag person that we were traveling with to see some sites for reforestation needed to stop there first. It was the firstauthentic Aeta home that I'd seen...removed from a community and without any modern conveniences.

The groundskeeper was an Aeta gentleman with a smile a wide and tight as a raised sail. He waved us into his Neba hut. This must be how Aeta’s truly lived once, I thought. There was a dried mud shelf in the corner serving as the fire pit inlayed with wide flat gray rocks for cooking. There were five shy children with big brown eyes, wavy and straight brown hair standing around expectantly, waiting for us to do something “typically American”.

There were two rice bags on the floor of the kitchen/dining room, where flies were landing and taking off like a ferris wheel. Two boys sat by the bags holding flower patterned dinner plates filled with white rice and some kind of meat in a brown sauce, probably bangong baboy (pork sauted in a shrimp and soy sauce marinade).

The adjoining room had two long poster reproductions of Chinese paintings with red flowers, birds and bamboo trees. There was a bedroom across the room on an elevated platform of mud, shielded behind a bamboo railing. Straw mats with blankets of various colors lie crumpled still in the same positions their sleepy occupants had left them early that morning as they left to attend to kitchen and house chores.

The children were all under eleven and thin. The boys continued eating when we came in but the two youngest girls stood near us holding onto a supporting beam staring at use through down-cast eyes.

The mother was excited to meet us and chattered on about us (in Tagalog) to the Dept of Ag person we came with, a man whose name escapes me.

Site Visit

5/1/06
Site visit to my new city:

Flanked by lush mountains, purple from a distance, Siniloan appears small. There are 15 barargays (neighborhoods), some are as narrow as one long street. Others seem to stretch across the city.

The houses look like they are attached to each other by icing. The pink, green and white houses seem to slouch/sink into the ground to one side or the other like the heat of the mid day sun itself is finally having an impact on not just the people hiding in the shade with wicker fans, handkerchiefs and perspiring glasses of sugar water, a confection of my mind, undoubtedly. Or is it because everything here is congealed, coated or cooked in sugar or condensed milk. Maybe that’s why I feel so happy all the time. I do have the worst sweet tooth.

Yet, the houses all have these ornate cages around the windows. The windows seem to mimmick the constant double standards that I see here. You can reach out of the window and feel freedom but you can’t step into it.

The principal is a joker (palabiro) and is always very light-hearted with his staff. Although there are many rules and restrictions imposed on the student body and staff. Apparently, this is to make up for the lackadaisical approach employed in the past. At once point, there was a wall covered with baseball caps that the prinicipal had confiscated over the course of a year, he returned them to their owners in May, of course.

Note about Philippines life in general:
I was watching the news with my host father and one of my co-workers who was visiting and I saw a shocking news report on the nightly news. There was a horrible fire that ravaged an entire block of houses. It looked like the houses had been shanties from the shells that were still visible. The tin roofs curled back like the lid of a sardine can by the fire. Each house, only a few feet wide and deep shared concrete walls with their neighbors as well as poorly constructed electrical wiring slipped through the walls without insulation which was named as the probable cause of the fire.

The news reporter noted that there were 1, 452 fires like this which occurred between January and May in 2006 in Metro Manila. Insane! Is anything being done to help protect poor people from these hazards? No evidence of change, yet. So sad.

5/2/06
May Celebrations
As I rode through a dark street after a meeting, I saw children and families kneeling at small card tables and boxes covered with gold, red, pink and green tablecloths, candles and statues of the Virgin Mary at the doorstep of every household. The children were singing songs. There were some children walking down the street stopping before each doorstep to sing a song. My co-worker told me that it is a tradition in the Philippines that children sing in celebration of the Virgin Mary every Sunday? night in the month of May. (I also saw this occurring in the tiny chapels when I returned to Limay.)

5/3/06
“Magjojogging” around my new home town

My co-worker and I “magjojog” down a side street to avoid on-coming trike traffic on the main street. Adults are bathing in sandals, shorts and t-shirts and pouring water rushing from a pipe in their alley or beside their house. Naked children skitter away from the pipes like a line of dragonflies swooping into the road and then back out again. The houses are linked together in a confusing network of clothes and cable lines.

5/3/06
Annex school in the upland region

I went to visit the annex school in the “upland region”, a more remote area in the hills far from the center of town. I walked around the property with my principle, the head teacher and two co-workers. They were still finishing one building. All the unused property was housing produce (kamates [tomatoes], calabasa [type of squash that looks like a small pumpkin but tastes sweeter] and sweet potatoes) served for breakfast and lunch at the school. I was impressed with the industrious nature of the head teacher and staff.

After we met in the head teachers office and discussed business we concluded marienda, a tradition observed by all Filippinos, (mid-morning and afternoon snack). The head teacher had the janitor climb the coconut trees bordering the school property and cut down a few. After drinking the “boku juice” out of the shell, the janitor handed me a semi-circle shaped piece of coconut shell. He’d carved a make-shift spoon for each of us out of coconut shells. The inside of the coconut is not as sweet as coconut shavings that I’ve eaten from the grocery store in the states. Instead, fresh coconut tastes like a salty/sweet melon, but is so watery and soft that melts in your mouth.

OFW (Overseas Filippino Workers)
OFW is becoming a coming phrase in conversations between co-workers and neighbors here. I haven’t met someone yet whose husband, wife, cousin or aunt isn’t living overseas to try to make money to send back to the rest of the family. Everyone seems resigned or on the verge of resigning themselves to the fact that the only way they can make any real money and break out of the financial hole they find themselves in is to work or send a spouse/relative or support a relative overseas by raising their children. It’s a difficult situation that is also a problem in my first host city. I can’t imagine trying to sustain a marriage from thousands of miles away over the course of two years never mind ten years or more.

5/7/06
Paete
It’s Saturday and I have the day off. I traveled to Paete with one of my host father’s employees who offered to show me around. The combination of the rain, old buildings and narrow cobblestone streets had the old-world charm of Old Quebec.

Despite the rain, we found our way from shop to shop. It’s an artist colony of wood carvers, paper machete artists and resin sculptors. I saw some wonderful pieces that I knew were far under-priced for their amazing detail to the faces and ornate designs. Most of the carvings were religious.

We were contemplating the period of the faded oils on the walls of St. James when a man working in the chapel offered to tell us about the paintings. Our conversation became so captivating that before we knew it he was inviting us to view the bell tower. After climbing up a staircase that was only a slightly wider that my shoulders and a few rickety ladders in the base of the tower, we were out on the ledge looking down at Laguna de Bay and probably hundreds of miles beyond to the hazy mainland of Luzon.

5/8/06
Mamba with a little halo-halo
After homemade halo-halo at a sweet shop owned by my co-worker’s lola (grandmother), I worked off the combination of coconut cream gelatin, beans, corn and condensed milk (which is actually a lot better than it sounds) by practicing the Mamba at another co-workers’ house.

I walked into room with a half-painted cement, half-linolium floor air sweeping freely through the open door and window from the large open courtyard with a covered veranda, trees, a neat vegetable garden and a few roosters and chickens. Music suddenly blasting from the speakers above the TV and we are moving across the floor. I am following behind my co-worker like a shadow channeling Fred Estaire, since I know no famous mamba dancers, thinking sweet feet, sweet feet. Isn’t that what his nickname was in his inner circle of friends? I am such a movie geek.

Children start leaning over the window sil and sink into the doorway giggling at the clumsy American trying to dance like their graceful neighborhood idol. After sweating at least twenty ounces, we stopped to recharge. We drank Cola Pop with large pieces of ice cut from a block with a large knife and played bingo with a dozen neighborhood kids, using tiny squares from old rubber sandals to mark the numbers.

5/9/06
Wedding Anniversary Toast
I escaped videoke for the first time at a wedding anniversary party by staying inside and talking to the guests in the living room. As I was about to leave, my principle asked me to come outside and say goodbye to the hosts. A drunken relative asked me to make a toast. I was speechless even though I knew a string of phrases to say, “Mabuhay, Mary and John”, “Maraming anyos ng masaya inyong (many years of happiness to you)”, “ Malingayang bati sa inyong kaarawan ng kasal (happy anniversary)” or simply “Happy Anniversary”. Everyone laughed and a woman came up to me and offered me a shot of “boki”, a coconut wine that is like 80 proof. I politely declined with a laugh and gave the speech and hurried off with a quick “Salamat, po(thank you, sir)”. Peels of laughter followed me. I was okay. I hadn’t been surprised that they asked me to make a speech. The trainers told us to expect to be asked to make impromptu speeches where we go in the first few months when we are going to community meetings and events to introduce ourselves to the community. Somehow, I was regretting not taking that shot after all. (Joke lang [Just joking].)