Just Another Day

It was 9 pm and I was getting ready for bed when I heard my cell phone beeping. I knew then that it was either my supervisor or a group text since no one else would text that late. The message was from my supervisor and it said to meet him at 430 am at the Municipal Hall to attend Lakbay Aral (field trip) with the Department of Agriculture. I attended the same event last year and it went something like this: the agricultural technicians, my supervisor, a handful of farmers, and myself met at the Municipal Hall in the morning but not as early as 430. There were probably 12 of us total and we rode to the event in two separate vehicles which was about an hour and a half from our town. Upon arriving at the event we went on a tour of an operational vegetable farm, had a question and answer session, ate lunch which was provided to us and were home by mid-afternoon. So as I was walking to the Municipal Hall at 430 am I was expecting the same thing as the previous year. However that perception was quickly altered when I saw a chartered bus next to the Municipal Hall with a banner across the front of it reading LAKBAY ARAL 2008. I looked around and saw many familiar faces the municipal agricultural technicians, the town veterinarian, the Barangay Animal Health Care Workers, socially active community members and farmers. While there were many people there at 430 am it didn't include everyone so we waited until 530 am to leave. The trip was 4 hours long and the bus lacked a good air con system so we had stale, warm air for 3 hours of the trip. Once we arrived at the Municipal Hall in San Roque, Cavite we had a thirty minute briefing on our field trip and we were off to our first tour at an organic vegetable farm. The name of the farm was Harbest and it is run by a father-son team from Taiwan. The father immigrated with his family to Philippines almost 29 years ago and they have a successful operation with some innovative ideas. The father spoke Tagalog with a strong Taiwanese accent and his son spoke Tagalog which I could easily understand. The farm is known for it's dragonfruit but it isn't the season so we missed out on that treat. The next farm we went to was a small farm that mostly ferments vegetables and fruits into beverages but it wasn't that interesting to me. The next stop was for picnic style lunch and people left the bus carrying 5 gallon buckets of food literally. The buckets included drinks, cups, silverware, plates, rice, and an assortment of food from steamed vegetables to fried fish. After unpacking the food everybody started to eat in a buffet style going to other peoples tables to get food they hadn't prepared themselves. After lunch people discussed the different things they had seen and if they were going to try it on their own farms. After our lunch break we went to the last farm on the schedule which was an organic herb farm. The farm seemed to be growing almost every type of herb you find in your cupboard including basil, cilantro, rosemary, and mint. The farm had also grown citronella throughout the farm to keep the insects away. I think the large profit margin of the farm interested a lot of people because people asked a lot of questions and we spent a long time there. We might have been there longer but it started to rain so everyone made a dash for the bus. The last stop we made before going home was at a roadside stand selling fruit so people could buy pineapples for their families. The town we were in is covered in fields of pineapple and they cost half as much so people were buying 2-4 pineapples to bring home. Once the bus was full of pineapples and clippings of citronella, basil, and random tree limbs (for people to plant at home) we made our way back home. When I got off the bus I was immediately greeted by one of my co-workers on his way to get dinner and had a five minute conversation about where I had been and where I was going. Then I made my way down the dimly lit streets towards our apartment. Along my way home I had the random kid yell hi to me from their house followed by another five minute conversation with a Barangay Counselor that lives near us. She asked me where I had been and what I was doing all day. After I answered the questions and she got her kid to say hi to me I was on my way again. As I got closer to our apartment though I heard fireworks and karaoke which could only mean one thing, fiesta. I could see thirty guys sitting in front of a karaoke machine when I arrived on our street and the only way home was through them which was impossible. So once again I found myself having a conversation about where I had been and what I was doing. They gave me a chair and I found myself in the midst of unadulterated noise. The blare of the karaoke singing, the occasional explosion of a firework, and plenty of laughter. The party was for Octoberfest and by the looks of some of the guys it might have been an all day affair. I found myself flooded with questions that I could barely hear about America, when we are going home, are we coming back, how much is our rent, what is the word for pomello (giant grapefruit type thing) in English and so on. The street party also brought about some of the strongest political feelings I have heard with my own ears in the Philippines. I was surprised to hear their willingness to express their frustrations since being respectful is usually more important here than anything else but these are young guys, many of them younger than me and their generation might have a different opinion. After all the storytelling I was ready to call it a day and they were ready to keep partying so we parted ways. I walked into the apartment and closed the door hearing echos of someone karakoeing to the Eagles.

Plastic For All

Paper or plastic? A simple question that every consumer and cashier in America knows by heart. It's a question of personal preference that reflects a little about each consumer. That simple little question waiting at the end of a line doesn't exist here though. There is one choice and only one choice and that is plastic. It seems at times that maybe the plastic industry is paying the bagboy/girl additional money for each bag they use. For some unknown reason plastic is the answer to everything and the more the better. If there is any attempt to just say no to the plastic bag you are bombarded with awkward smiles and a look of pity. The bagboy/girl gives you a "oh, if you only knew look" and tries to sneak your single item into a plethora of plastic bags as if it's for your own good. While we have painstakingly broken the plastic cycle through repeated explanations, confused looks, and an investment in reusable bags many others are losing the fight. The typical story goes like this: A woman goes to the market and buys tomatoes and eggplants from vendor # 1 so the tomatoes are placed in 2 plastic bags and the eggplants are placed into 2 separate plastic bags. This seems excessive but probably reasonable to many of us. The same women then goes to buy a single piece of ginger from vendor # 2 so this means 1 more plastic bag. The rule is every item must have a plastic bag. This is probably a little funny but not necessary to many of us. The women then decides to purchase rice at vendor # 3 so this requires 3 plastic bags. Once again excessive but not unreasonable, right? Our woman of purchasing then goes to vendor # 4 to buy some fish which means 4 plastic bags since fish is wet and smelly. The women then goes to purchase chicken broth bullion cubes from vendor # 5 and this means another plastic bag (maybe at this point it could be added to another plastic bag but the bags are free). The final stop for the day is to purchase shampoo and toothpaste from vendor # 6. ASIDE: Thanks to a brilliant marketing genius somewhere people can purchase shampoo and toothpaste in single use sachets which means more profit for the company, a higher cost per unit of product for the consumer, and more trash per unit of product. The best part is this marketing strategy was developed for developing countries where people can't afford to spend a lot at once but this also means there spending more over time and they have no infrastructure to deal with solid waste. Anyways the women purchases her shampoo and toothpaste that creates more plastic per unit of product and gets 2 more plastic bags (these could be added to other plastic bag but it's not the way things are done). After a day of shopping and purchasing enough food for maybe two days she accumulates 15 plastic bags plus associated trash from the single use sachets. The worst part of all this is unlike in America where we can hide our trash through sanitary landfills and an expensive solid waste management scheme the people here have no option so the trash is either burned, buried or just tossed aside and it finds its way into the rivers and oceans. This is a problem believe me I've swam through it and walked through it. However, I have saved my favorite plastic bag story for last just to prove how much plastic bags are loved here. A couple of weeks ago we were at the market on a Sunday. Now Sunday is the biggest market day of the week and we usually avoid it at all costs but we were looking for fiddleheads for dinner and somebody told us to go on Sunday because everything is for sale. Well we didn't find any fiddleheads but we did meet a guy that was selling ducklings. Somehow Rebeka and I got into a discussion concerning if we could raise one in our apartment. As we discussed the proposition before us I watched the vendor shake the box of ducklings every time they fell asleep. After a good shaking the ducks would start chirping again and a whole lot of new customers would come over to take a look. We made the decision not to buy one but another customer decided to buy six ducklings and guess what? It takes 2 plastic bags to hold six live ducklings. Yes, for some reason plastic is the preferred packaging material of live animals. (Reasonable? not really. Ethical? um, no. Excessive? yes. Good way to treat an investment? once again no. Necessary? no. Funny? Somehow yes in a I can't do anything but laugh sense.) After seeing somebody drop six ducklings into two plastic bags and tie them shut I have a real curiosity to purchase a puppy here. What if?

No situation is too difficult to handle when you have Vermont maple syrup, pancakes, and fresh bananas

Protect Your Baby 101

Oftentimes things in the Philippines seem so modern, and lets be honest they are. Our country director came to visit last week and over a lunch of grilled cheese sandwiches, iced tea and sun chips she told us about her own Peace Corps experience. She served twenty years ago in Mauritania. Her experience included an hour walk every day to water, living with a host family in a small hut with no front door, traveling with camels, and storing water in a goat's skin.

I guess we were expecting two years in a traditional culture with deep customs. So sometimes it feels a little discouraging to walk around and see corner stores filled with candy, chips and coke, hear the latest American top-20 songs and ride around in nice cars and buses. Of course these conveniences make things easier in many ways. They can also make it feel that what remained of the local culture has been swept away with technology, convenience and the disease of consumerism.
That's why I love talking with the teachers at my school. Really talking with them. Recently there was discussion of giving birth and becoming a mom. I asked the teachers what kind of things they do here when children are born and the initial response was nothing special. But then people started sharing their stories. The one woman who works in our canteen gave birth to two of her children by herself in her house. Another (young 20-something teacher) told about a problem she had because she tried bathing a few days after giving birth, rather than the traditional 8 days. All the teachers agreed that the baby's umbilical cord should be kept and hidden somewhere safe; usually it is put in the roof, but one young teacher said her son's is in the kitchen cupboard. They also said they keep the baby's first nail clippings (possibly in an envelope in their purse) and hair from his/her first hair cut (yup we do that in the State's too).

Another "must" for babies is the contra-bati. This is usually a bracelet worn on the wrist or a small red pillow pinned to the baby's shirt. It is to deflect compliments lest someone/something evil hears and tries to harm the baby. A lot of families will not cut their child's hair until his first birthday. No one seemed to know why this is done, except that it is bad luck if one does cut it.Mira, one of my co-teachers with her son. He is wearing a contra-bati on his wrist. Most of the ones in our area have orange and black beads. You can buy them at the market from old women who come from the mountains. They also sell an assortment of herbal medicines. Another teacher's daughter. She has the contra-bati on her wrist and also in the form of the red pillow.Ten month old Gian with his long long hair. His family said it looked like a chicken's comb because his mom craved chicken heads during her pregnancy.A little guy and his mom at a mangrove planting. Some kids have the sting earrings in their ears. Haven't asked yet what they are for, but I will soon.

The Streets of Manila

Picture of Quiapo from Light Rial Transit (LRT) Station

The city of Manila has a population of twelve to fifteen million depending on who you ask and their definition of Manila. The city is believed to have obtained its name from the Tagalog phrase "may nila" meaning there are flowering mangroves. May means to have and nila is the word for a type of flowering mangrove. The name of the city is less fitting today since there are no mangroves left, possibly thanks to a Peace Corps project in the 1970's. The urban myth goes that in the 1970's PC volunteers were assigned to remove mangroves in order to build fish ponds which at the time seemed to make sense. Then twenty years later scientist decided that mangroves provide more benefits than previously thought, like increased fish catch, protection from storm surge, a well balanced ecosystem etc. The whole PC cutting down the last mangrove thing might be true or not but the reality is there are no more mangroves. The city of Manila has a history of being a trading port for Chinese and Arab traders from the 10th century onwards until the Spanish arrived and conquered it in 1571. The city was named the official capital of the Philippines in 1595 and was occupied by the Spanish, British, Americans, and Japanese over the next 400 years. The city that is standing today is a mixture of religions, languages, and culture. The city has old Spanish style churches, mosques, and Buddhist temples scattered throughout the city along with people from all over the Philippines and other countries. The city of Manila is made of areas like Makati which resembles Beverly Hills, literally! The streets are wide and lined with palm trees, everything is new and maintained, and there are parks throughout it. Then there is Malate which resembles a toned down red light district with a mixture of things like the Hyatt Hotel, backpacker lodges, bars, restaurants, nightclubs etc. The Quiapo area is home to bargain shoppers and anything can be bought in Quiapo but more on that later. The city also has a Chinatown, the Intramuros area (Spanish architecture), and squatter areas all over. The city seems chaotic and without a direction which leaves this halo-halo (mixture) of time and beliefs standing. If it didn't have all these idiosyncrasies well it wouldn't be Manila or Maynila then.

We arrived in Manila last week for Mid-Service training and it allowed us to have some free time to roam through Manila. We decided to venture into Quiapo which is bargain central and brought a couple friends (Jon and Emma) along for the experience. We traveled to Quiapo using the LRT which is a cheap, air conditioned way to travel through the city. When the LRT came to a stop at Quiapo we stepped onto the platform and were welcomed by the sounds of people bartering on the streets below us. The streets of Quiapo are in constant state of fiesta. Vendors line the streets and walk through the streets pedaling rat poison, clothes, hardware tools, birds, rabbits, fruits, vegetables, and anything else imaginable. The established stores look on jealously from their permanent fixtures located behind the tents of the vendors. The streets are a sea of people and you slide past one person to the next which is less like walking and more like swimming. After purchasing fruits and other non-necessities we took a break outside of the plaza at the Quiapo Church. Since it was Sunday there was a service in session and it seems that every vendor surrounding the church is selling candles, crown of thorns, and idols of Saints. The TV screen attached to the side of the church shows the priest inside giving his sermon but everyone outside has other concerns at the moment. Occasionally a group of kids come by begging for money or food which they seem quite successful at. While we were waiting near the church plaza I noticed a girl that was about ten years old trying to sell toy cars that flip over. She seemed a little lost amongst the crowd and didn't have the same vigor to sell as many things as possible like other people did. Eventually a little boy who was about the same age and his grandmother came by for a demonstration. The little girl unfolded a mat in the middle of the crowd and placed the car on it. The car jump, jolted, and flipped to the delight of the one boy audience, the little girl seemed to find no amusement in the trick. The grandmother then handed some money to the girl and the business transaction was complete. The boy walked away with a new toy, the girl walked away with a few pesos of profit for her family and things went on the same as before; the girl hawking the toys in the absence of a childhood, schooling, and dreams for those of us that want to purchase our own dreams.

We left the streets of Quiapo eventually and made our way into Chinatown which appeared to be void of life. It was a shock to look in every direction and only see concrete, glass and medal surrounding us. The streets seemed gray with the lack of human voices and perspiration. We found a tea house before us and decided it was the right place to eat. After contemplating over the large menu we all came to a decision and spent our time waiting by sipping tea and enjoying the air conditioning. The meal that was laid before us was impressive and more than we could eat. There was grilled vegetables, sweat and sour chicken, dumplings, and a plethora of other foods. After eating to the point of bursting we each took a last bite and then paid the bill. It was only mid-afternoon but the day was over for us. We made our way to the arch welcoming visitors to Chinatown and looked across the roundabout at the Spanish styled Quiapo Church recognizing that this short distance couldn't purvey the difference separating these two places. One of us finally waved our hand at the oncoming traffic and got on a Jeep heading back to the hotel.

Quiapo Church from underneath Chinatown arch

Emma, Jon and Pilipino jewelry vendor (oh, they're so cute)

Movin' on Out

I guess in one way or another we were evicted from the little house on the beach. The place with black sand, swaying coconut trees, and various farm animals is in the past. The living arrangement we had was always a little precarious and I guess it came tumbling down about a month ago. We came back from a trip and there were four more people living on the property and we felt it was a sign to move on. We made the decision to move into town for the sake of convenience and cost. We found a place easily with the help of one of Rebeka's teachers; it is a four room townhouse about a ten minute walk from all that our town has to offer. The transition has gone smoothly besides the shock of our new environment. Instead of having the faint sound of crashing waves, we have the immediate sound of motorcycles and instead of being surrounded by green, we are surrounded by people. I guess we might have been a little spoiled in the other place, maybe it didn't give us an accurate picture of living here or at least it provided a more refreshing picture. Things at our new place aren't awful by any means but it will just take some time to adjust. One of the most discerning things is a kid that lives next to us that seems to spend most of his day crying. He is about four or five years old and seems to have screaming fits regularly throughout the day. The main showing is usually at 6:30 pm and lasts for an hour. The most stressful thing is we have no way to remedy the problem. The other kids on the compound have a different hobby which is to play peeping tom with us. We'll be sitting around not doing anything interesting and then notice two, four, six or more little eyes peering in at us through the window. It's always a little startling when you look up and see you have an audience looking back at you. However my favorite neighborhood activity is the true inspiration for this entry. The other day I heard a group of dogs fighting outside the house and after listening to it for ten minutes decided to see what was going on and there it was: an informal neighborhood dog fighting show. The first thing I noticed was that there were seven dogs all attacking one dog and then my eyes wondered to the peripheral of the fight to see every person in the neighborhood watching the fight. There was the grandfather with his granddaughter on his lap watching from their porch, the teenage boys standing in the street for a better view, and our neighbors watching from behind our fence. The dogs started to get bored with the fight and then a little kid out of nowhere started hitting the dogs with sticks and his sidekick was throwing rocks at them. This instigated another round of fighting among the dogs and laughter from the crowd. I decided at that moment that I had seen enough of the day's featured event and went back to reading my book with the lovely sound of barking and snarling in the background. Ah, home, sweet, home.

Just Another Day at School

The best part of working at a school is the unpredictability of any given day. Despite the monotony of our schedule, Period 1 English II-C, Period 2 English II-A, etc., and the routine of the school year, life at school is anything but bland. This past Thursday is a perfect example.
It was actually an exam day, which means all of the students are stuck inside the classroom for hour after hour of tests while the teachers sit in the front of the room monitoring 50 pairs of potentially wandering eyes.
I chose to abstain from monitoring duties and hence spent my day sitting with the teachers who are on their overseeing "break." The morning was passing slowly, until one of the teachers pulled a second year student of mine out of class to perform an important and pressing duty: replace the rope on the flagpole. I did not understand the sudden urgency of this task, because the rope had been broken for a few weeks at this point, but I guess then was the time for the repair. I didn't see the ladder lying around and I tried to ask my co-teacher where it was, but before I could I saw Jayson shimmying up the pole. I couldn't believe it. Granted I have seen kids climb a number of thin vertical objects, such as palm trees, but never one that was quiet this tall. Furthermore it was held together with tape1/2 way up where it had apparently broken at some point!? When Jayson reached the top I watched the pole sway around in a slow circular motion as he put the rope through the small circle at the top. He hesitated as it made an extra far dip and then slid down like he climbs 30 foot poles everyday.
As if the day did not already have its fill of adventures, someone casually mentioned at recess time that the president was coming to our town at 2 that afternoon for a funeral -That explained all of the police officers and military personnel who had been in town that morning. I had all sorts of questions: how was she coming? what for? would she be hanging around? No one seemed that interested in discussing it and I let it go (everyone was much more excited to talk about the party we would be having next week for the teacher who was leaving).
At 2:15 (right on time Filipino style) three choppers interrupted the quiet of our test taking campus and flew over our heads to land in the field right next to the school. It was the President of the Philippines within a few hundred meters of our schol and hardly anyone moved. I grabbed a co-teacher and went running over to the edge of the school property to watch the choppers and a long line of black SUVs. So we didn't really see the President (she got off on the other side of the helicopter) but we were still very close.

At the end of the day I was sitting with the teachers and someone mentioned the choppers and all the cars. A couple of people mumbled a few comments. Someone else mentioned the party we'd be having for Ma'am Gina (the teacher who is leaving) and everyone had something to say.

the infamous taped flag pole

North and Beyond

Birds of Paradise at ENCA organic farm in Tublay Benguet

this is how pineapples grow!?

bridge to the mountain

Steve and our fellow volunteer Ben on the top of Mt. Pulag

sunrise over Luzon

Mt. Pulag

Sagada rice terraces

miles from any road


an amazing quiet village

our guide for a long hike

dragonfly in the rice field

Batad

the highest peak in the back is where we had hiked from

Into the Unknown

There we were sitting outside the guesthouse in the darkness of early morning (5 am) waiting for our hiking guide. We knew our end destination but weren't sure exactly how we were getting there. The route that we had suggested to the towns tourism planner wasn't satisfactory so we had a new way and a new adventure. Our guide was almost on time and was announced by a chorus of dogs yapping at him. Just like that we were on our way through the town and then started our ascent. We were climbing through the rice terraces for what seemed like only a moment and then we slipped into the cover of forest. The trail was wide and steep and we just simply hiked with an occasional break for pictures. We just climbed higher and higher leaving behind the highway and the town. Along the way our guide showed us wild blueberries and strawberries along the path which were incredibly small but delicious. At 9 am we summited a 9000 foot mountain and seemed to be making great time. We enjoyed a late breakfast/early lunch at tv station satellite and then started on our way again. Our guide pointed out were we were going from the summit and it looked close enough. As soon as we started climbing down the other side things became quite different. The trail narrowed and brush covered parts of the trail. Then things started to get very steep and the wet, muddy ground provided no traction so we spent a lot of time slipping and falling. It didn't take long for every step to become a planned action and to feel fatigue. Every time we stopped for a water break the guide would say three more hours, two more hours and so on. We were spending a lot of time in the woods but just weren't going anywhere. Everytime I looked up from the trail all I could see was the thick forest. Our six inch wide trail was the only sign of humans. After some more falling we came to cleared area near a river and took a break to consume some chocolate and cool off. Our break ended but our walking continued. It didn't take long and we were walking through rice terraces and looking at houses. The little village was going to be our resting place for the night. Our guide led us to a little stone courtyard with two houses. One house was built from wood and with a sheet metal roof and the other one was made from grasses and wood. We sat down in the courtyard and yanked off our boots and took a nice relaxing sit. There were a couple of kids running around and the mom off the house tending to some chores. The village was incredibly quiet probably since it lacked electricity and roads. No videoke, cars, tricycles, tv! The only loud sound was the mom of the house hand pounding the husks off the rice. The kids started coming home from school and then the dad of the house showed up. There were a group of five or six guys with them and it was time to drink rice wine. The dad of the house went to the house and got a large vase/pitcher of home brewed rice wine. He put a wooden bowl on the ground and then placed a smaller wooden bowl inside of it. The rice wine was poured into the small bowl only and it overflowed into the larger bowl until both of them were full. Then they all took turns using the small bowl as a cup to get a drink. I was given a mug and was a little hesitant to try it since most things labeled "wine" here are hard liquor but I went for it anyways. The flavor was surprisingly good and tasted more like a wine than liquor. The rice was scooped out of the bottom of the pitcher and placed on a plate. The kids were the first ones to eat the rice and then the adults. We ate our dinner afterwards and then headed to bed. We were only laying down for about five minutes when we heard gongs and our guide came and got us. We went downstairs and watched the men take different turns playing the gongs. It's a tradition that they have to help the rice grow. So we watched different men taking turns playing the gongs in front of fire. I can imagine that everyone in the valley heard the gongs being played. We stayed up as long as we could but went to bed before everyone else. We slept on the floor of their house and woke up early the next morning to the mother doing chores and the dad preparing to hike to town. We were once again on the trail which was small, steep and overgrown. We spent the first part of the day hiking uphill and the second part hiking downhill. We were by ourselves again for most of the day until we came upon a small town where we bought some lunch. The ladies that owned the restaurant told us that we couldn't pass on the trail because they were blasting for a highway above the trail. After being there for ten minutes we heard the blast and saw the debris rolling down the hillside. After we ate our lunch we decided to try to make a pass on the trail because the dynamiters were eating lunch daw (we were told this). So we started walking briskly for the exit. We arrived at the spot where the blasting was going on and it looked much more dangerous for one foot away than a couple thousand feet away. Our guide lead us through boulders, dirt, and downed trees. I kept waiting to hear the blast but we made it through without a problem. The trail continued for another hour and then we reached our destination. We went for the closest guesthouse took a nice shower and ate a hot meal.

Ninang and Ninong Kami!

It's official. We've been integrated a step further into the culture of the Catholic Filipino and joined the thousands who are proudly called ninang or ninong (apparantly us being non-Catholic is not an issue is acquiring this responsibility). This is a picture of Gian our 7 month old goddaughter to whom we are now happily committed for the next eighteen years (and beyond?). Before the Baptism the sponsors, a.k.a. us, promised to do some things for the child. Unfortunately the priest spoke quickly in Tagalog and we aren't positive about what we committed to, but we will be sure to do our best to be exceptional godparents. We do know some of our roles as ninang and ninong. According to my students the most important one is to give Gian gifts for all major (and minor) holidays and assist her with all the needs of the standard Filipino child. School fees, Girl Scout registration fee, School blessing donations, Graduation fees and others.

Ate (older sister) Guiliana, Sir Cueto (My Supervisor), Gian, Ms. Cueto, Ninang and Ninong


Baptism Day coincided with town fiesta and no fiesta is complete without a marching band to perform pop songs after the priest gives his message. This group kept playing for hours even though it was in the 90s and the hottest part of the day. I felt guilty as I recalled complaining about the few kilometers we marched at the dairy festival in much cooler Vermont where we were accompanied by bunches of moms with icey water bottles and little pre-packaged snacks.
Of course the other element of fiesta, and baptisms, is free food at the family's home. Anyone is welcome to join and there is seemingly unlimited supplies of different ulams (main dishes), rice and various jello-ish desserts.

This kid is relaxing in a duyan (hammock) after his big fiesta meal and playing with a june bug he has tied to a string, a favorite game of many Filipino youngsters.

A Rememberance

The day started off in an air conditioned office with me putting together a telescope and flipping through a bird identification book. Then sometime around noon we set out to the field site which was about a half hour ride from the municipal hall. I stepped out of the vehicle onto the sandy path beneath a cloudless sky and instantly felt the heat of the sun on the top of my head. After waiting for a couple minutes our "guides" arrived and it was at that moment I knew we were in for an afternoon of headaches. Our "guides" were a group of kids no older than twelve and the youngest one was still a bit wobbly since he didn't have complete control of his body yet. Despite the obvious set back we started making our way into the brush that is adjacent to the seashore. Our "guides" told us that they had seen two tabon birds earlier so this was going to be no problem. After an hour of not seeing our intended target, the tabon bird we took a short break. Then the idea was had to send the kids into the woods while we held stationary positions and waited for them to flush out the ideal birds. There was a lot of waiting in the sun but not much else happened. The afternoon continued to drag on with the same result. Our last effort was to send the kids into the woods one more time but it failed again. The sun was starting to set and we decided to call it a day. As we were heading back to the vehicle the guides/kids came running up to us telling us that they had just seen 3 birds. I just started laughing but other people in the group started questioning them like they believed them. I still don't know if they believed the kids or were just humoring them. I can only hope that they knew the truth. We made one last stop at a house on our way back so someone in our group could buy crabs from a fisherman. I had fished out my hanker chief to wipe of my face which was nice and sweaty from our excursion and set it down on a table next to me. After the crab was purchased and the conversation ended we were ready to go. I reached down to grab my hanker chief and it was gone. I looked around and saw one of our guides had swiped it. I gave him a half smile and started to walk towards him but he ran. I could see this was going to be difficult. I smiled again and told him to come here. He just laughed and started to walk back to his house. I made a quick movement towards him and he took off running again. It was than that I knew I had a decision to make. I could chase him down and wrestle the hanker chief from him and possibly spark an international incident or I could try to obtain help from his parents or people in my party but they seem too amused to provide any help or I could just give the kid a dirty look, remember his face for future retribution and leave without my hanker chief. I definitely wanted to see where option one could lead but I decided to choose boring option three and just walk away from the situation. I took one last glance back at the kid and saw him showing his newly claimed prize to his friends. During my reflection of this incident I've know decided that if I am ever in the situation the best thing to do is grab one of the kids sandals or something else of theirs so at least it's a fair trade.

A Year of Highlights

Well it has been a year since we started this whole experiment so it's probably a good time to reflect on our current situation.
*Rice is now our dietary staple which we eat 2-3 times a day and when we go a whole day without it we become irritable, we develop headaches, and we feel dizzy. Joke, Joke, Joke! Well the last part we really do eat it 2-3 times a day.
*We have witnessed first hand that dogs are dual purpose: man's best friend and man's most delicious friend.
*We might have signed up for Peace Corps to save the world but it seems at times we are nothing more than the punchline of a joke.
*We have learned of fruits like rombutan, langka, and durian.
*We have eaten for the first and probably last times in our lives coagulated pigs blood with pig innards as a meal.
*I have hit my head 427 different times on 103 different things. The most common objects are the ceiling of jeeps and trikes. The best one was a ceiling fan that I knocked of the ceiling by standing up. That is zero points for the ceiling fans and one point for me.
*Sitting on the bottom of the ocean and looking upwards through 68 feet of water.
*Having complete strangers give you food and refusing to take no.
*Being called Joe every place you go.
*Seeing mangroves for the first time.
*Living with two different families, that speak a different language for a total of six months.
*Watching all the different ways people use me as a measuring stick. There are the jumpers that walk close to me and see how high the can jump compared to me. Then there are the stalkers that kind of nonchalantly walk next to me and put their hand on top of their head and move it next to my body to see where the top of their head is. They aren't any where as sneaky as they think. Then there are the back to backers that just walk up to me and without warning stand back to back with me and have their friend mark off their height on my back.
*Watching all the different expressions that people make at us. Now I like to create a carnival nickname based on how shocked they looked. If it is a long stare something benign like "the tall white guy" or if I get a mouth on the floor look without a broken stare then I give myself a name like "the mega-giant, long footed, lumbering amerikano from the other side of the globe" sometimes I even inject the ooh-aah. I just realized I might have already been here too long. Oh well.
Favorite Pics from the last year in the Philippines

Our Filipino family


Emma loves Peace Corps

Mangrove - amazing!
beautiful Palawan jungle

We love handwashing!

The teachers of Sico 1.0 National High School

Next time we'll do a head count

The day before my supervisor told me we had a meeting in the provincial capital and to meet him at the municipal hall at 8 am. So since I am culturally adjusted now I arrived at 8:05 am because 8 am here means more like 8:30. I walked into the municipal hall and was met by a frantic office employee telling me to go up stairs immediately. My first thought was "great, people are on time toady". So I went upstairs to our office and found my supervisor sipping a cup of coffee. As soon as he saw me he asked if I had seen the driver and I said no so he told me to go downstairs and wait because it was late. I went running downstairs and waited and waited and waited until 8:30 then the driver showed up. We said hi to each other then he parked the car and went into the municipal hall so I sat back down and waited until almost 9. The Fisheries Chairman showed up just then and asked where the driver was so I told him. I waited another five minutes and then we all finally piled into the jeep and were about to leave when the Fisheries Chairman asked me where my supervisor was and I said I didn't know maybe upstairs. He then asked if he was joining us and I said no. We traveled to the provincial capitol and picked up the head of the Agriculture Department on the way. We arrived at the capitol late but the meeting hadn't started yet. It took some time for everyone to find chairs and say there hellos but the meeting started eventually and was only thirty minutes behind schedule. The meeting was about a national law that the province wants to change related to the fisheries act. The most interesting thing happened half way through the meeting when my supervisor walked through the door and sat on the other side of the room. I thought that it was peculiar for him to decide to take another form of transportation here. The Fisheries Chairman noted his arrival by nudging me and we just looked each other and smiled. The meeting eventually ended and my supervisor came over to the Fisheries Chairman and they started having what looked like a serious conversation. Then the Fisheries Chairman started laughing hard and pointed at me. That was my cue and I joined the conversation. My supervisor was supposed to get a ride with us and was planning on attending the meeting. After this was explained to me there was an awkward moment of silence and then the fisheries chairman started laughing again. My supervisor got in line for lunch and the fisheries chairman asked me what he said so I told him and this brought out another round of laughter. I started thinking to myself why had I said that he wasn't riding with us. He had never told me his plans but I had assumed I knew what was going on. I began to feel a little better about the situation after I realized it wasn't my language skills that were off but my reading of the situation. I had assumed that he wasn't joining us since I was treated like we were in a hurry and waited downstairs for an hour to leave. I figured my supervisor would have been acting hurried and checking every couple minutes to see if the driver had arrived. So I got over the situation and decided it was a cultural misinterpretation and not a language one which was easier for me to deal with.
On our way home the head of the Agriculture Department bought food and invited us over to her house. We were all sitting around eating when the Fisheries Chairman asked me "Anong sinabi niya?" (what did he say?). Then he started to laugh, uncontrollably.

It's Official

Well after reading 200 plus pages, watching 2 hours of instructional videos, spending a day in the pool with scuba gear on, and doing 5 dives in 2 days, we are officially scuba certified! The last five days are a blur and I feel like I might have grew gills. The trip started with a two hour bus ride to the port city and then a hour long ride on a passenger ferry. As we approached our destination we could see the beach packed with hotels and resorts. This is the first resort area we've been to in the Philippines and it had a different feel. The first big shock was that half the population seems to be American or Europeans. I don't know if I've ever heard so much German spoken before. The other unique thing was the town had a French Bakery and a store that sold Maple Grove Farms salad dressing from Vermont for 150 pesos (about $3.75). While the above water scene was a little bit disorienting the under water scene was amazing. We spent our first two days reading, watching videos, and practicing in the pool. Then we moved into the real big fishbowl the next day. We put on our gear and tip backwards into the water and dropped down to 24 feet below surface. We just kneeled underwater for about an hour practicing all the same things we learned in the pool and then headed back to the surface. By the end of the day we felt a little tired but were definitely excited for the next day. The following morning we made our first real dive in a coral garden area. We went 36 ft. below the surface and saw some beautiful soft coral and different fish species. We had one more dive left in us so later that afternoon we went on a wreck dive that took us 68 ft. below the surface and we got to see 3 different wrecks. The wrecks were interesting but the schools of fish were much more interesting. We saw striped eel catfish, moorish idols, harlequin ghost pipefish. The diving was a lot of fun and we look forward to taking advantage of the wealth of dive sites in the Philippines.

Camp

"Wow, oh my goodness. We are definitely in the provinces now." Anywhere outside of metro Manila is considered the provinces in the Philippines and we got to spend the last two days with a group of city boys at camp in the "provinces" aka our town. One of our fellow volunteers works at a center for boys ages 12-16 who were living on the streets in Manila. In three vans 23 boys, 8 staff, sleeping mats, clothing, toiletries and food (which means LOTS of rice) came down to a seaside park owned in part by the LGU in our town. The guys loved the water and spent every moment they could swimming in the ocean. We also spent time learning about coastal ecosystems from Steve, hiking, watching giant fruit bats, playing games and eating (of course!). The center had brought along their kitchen so every meal included rice, an ulam (main dish), and some vegetables and of course we always had our twice a day meriendas (snacks).

Everybody's a creature for the food web.

Patience Really is a Virtue

As Americans we have many different methods to show are impatience. When we felt like we have waited too long in a line at a grocery store we can start tapping our foot, check our watch repeatedly, letting out long sighs, or if all else fails ask to see the manager. Oh how those days are so long ago. In the Philippines waiting is expected and just a part of life, sort of like breathing. No matter what you do you are going to wait. There was the time when my supervisor told me to meet him at a random guys house at 9 am. Now at this point I knew better than to show up at exactly 9 am so I made a nice late appearance at 9:30 am. The owner of the house invited me in and fed me crackers and soda and we just sat around not saying much. I finally checked my cellphone and it said 10:30 am and my supervisor still wasn't there. I sent him and text and then waited some more. At about 11:30 am he texted back and said he'd be there in a couple of minutes. Okay I thought not too big of a deal. So of course I was invited to eat lunch with the strangers family which I did and after a meal of fish and rice I texted my supervisor again (12:30pm). I waited for a response and got one at about 1 pm. The message said I won't make it but two other guys are coming buy and he asked me to wait for them. So after a day of doing nothing I took a little nap outside and woke up at about 2:30 pm. The guys hadn't shown up yet and at this point I decided it was time to go home. So I told my host thank you and walked home. No one ever showed up, I checked with my host.
Then there was this morning. Rebeka and I run an English club at her school at 8am on Saturday mornings. Rebeka checked with her other faculty members and two of them said they would be there at 8am for graduation practice. Now Rebeka and I made the mistake of being early we were there at about 7:30 am but there were four or five seniors there also. Anyways we sat around and more kids showed up. By 8 am there was half of the senior class there and some of our English club kids. At 8:30 am we just started holding the meeting outside and the seniors were still waiting. However there was no foot tapping or watch checking. They were just sitting around chatting and joking not even aware of the time. At 9:30 am we heard a cheer from the seniors and it was a signal that the gates to the school were unlocked. We finished our meeting outside and went into the school yard at 10 am. The gates were opened but the seniors were in their classroom still waiting. The graduation practice hadn't started yet. I guess an hour and a half late is better than.....
Two last points. One point is showing up for an event an hour and a half late isn't being late at all. It is called Pilipino time. This is by no way a negative term. Then there is American time which means arriving at an event at least ten minutes before it starts. When people are going to an event they sometimes clarify the start time by saying 9 am Pilipino time or 9 am American time. The translation is show up when you want for the former or you need to be there at 9am for the latter.
The last point is less of a point and more of a joke. The background to the joke is this: many Pilipinos think that they have stubby noses and Americans have long, beautiful noses. So the joke goes something like this. God told all the people that he was going to hand out noses at noon. The Americans arrived at 11:30 and were rewarded with the first choice of noses. The Americans choose all the long, beautiful noses. The Pilipinos arrived at around 2pm and all that was left were the smooshed noses from the bottom of the pile. They couldn't choose there noses and had to take the smooshed noses! Joke, joke, joke.

Click

What an odd feeling to be on the other side of the camera, to be the abnormal and fascinating creature who is worthy of sharing with family and friends. Its never someone by himself, and they are almost always younger than 30, but it starts with "Americana, Americana", a hurried search for the cell phone, clearing the camera lens from the numerous cell phone bangles, a discussion with friends about who will take the picture first and then pscchhht, the fake click sound of the cell phone camera. I don't know how many people I have photographed without their consent, but I'm sure it is a fair amount, so I guess it is only just that I am on the receiving end for a change of pace.

Introductions

When two people meet for the first time in the states the conversation might go something like this:

Joe: Hi, my name is Joe and you are?
Jill: I'm Jill and I work with your wife, Rachel.
Joe: Oh really so are you a lawyer also ?
Jill: No, no I'm a paralegal but I'm currently taking night classes and hope to take the bar exam in a couple years. I've been so busy lately with school, work, and my cycling classes. So what do you do for work Joe?
Joe: I'm an engineer with McDermott and Smith. We have an office uptown near the park. I have a great office with a view over the park.
Jill: So what kind of work do you do exactly?
Joe: Talks about his occupation for next 5-10 minutes
Jill: Wow that sounds amazing.
Joe: Yeah it's not too bad, so you said you take cycling classes?
Jill: Talks about cycling class, goals etc.
Joe: Well Jill it was good to meet you.
Jill: Yeah you too Joe, hope to see you around sometime, maybe you should sign up for cycling.

In the Philippines a first conversation would probably go something like this (translated version):

Lito: Hey where are you going?
Rommel: I'm heading just over there.
Lito: Where are you from?
Rommel: Barangay Putingbuhangin
Lito: Oh really I have two cousins and a nephew in Putingbuhangin. Do you know Mary Lou Gallop, Mary Chrisa Lasat, or June Hernandez.
Rommel: Yeah June is my neighbor. Are you married?
Lito: Yes
Rommel: How may kids do you have?
Lito: Four, two girls and two boys. Are you married?
Rommel: Yes
Lito: Do you have any kids?
Rommel: No not yet.
Lito: Why?
Rommel: My wife hasn't been able to get pregnant yet.
Lito: How long have you been married for?
Rommel: About five months now.
Lito: Don't worry about it, hey I'm having a party won't to come over and have a couple shots.
Rommel. Of course.

After reading this you might think that there not that different and you have similar conversation in the states. But remember that your conversing with a complete stranger. The first 50 times a complete stranger asks you where your going, where you live, if your married, have kids, and a bunch of other personnel questions it really throws you for a loop. However we have definitely grown to appreciate the straight forward ask any question you want approach. Your able to learn so much more about a person. The biggest problem is when we meet the random American here and start asking those questions. They usually look at us like are you serious. No big deal though right?

Thou Shalt Not Wash Thy Neighbor's Dog

Our neighbors got a puppy a couple months ago and we have become it's adopted family. It might have something to do with the fact that we spoil it a little bit. At every moment we're tossing it scraps of fish or bread. It has become quite accustomed to running through our house and using our clothes as chew toys. The one big problem that we have with it is how dirty and flea ridden it is. So one afternoon when we were washing clothes we noticed that the dog could use a little scrub a dub dub. We waited until our neighbors left and grabbed the puppy. I was posted as look out and Rebeka went to work scrubbing the puppy until it was as good as new. The puppy was not particularly happy about the turn of events but it was the best thing for everyone. I had just finished drying the puppy when our neighbors arrived home. They walked into their house without a second glance towards us and we figured that we had gotten away with our endeavor. It wasn't until later in the afternoon when Rebeka was at the water pump and our neighbors kid walked up to her with doe eyes and innocently asked "did you wash my dog?". This caught the attention of the kids mom and she was waiting for Rebeka's response. Rebeka smiled and said "yes I did take a bath this morning". Then she scurried for the protection of our house and we had a good laugh about it. However, our neighbor, Jim Boy was still left wondering why his dog smelled like Herbal Essence.

Monkeys

This is a short video of a couple of monkeys we saw on a hike.

Happy Birthday

We were trying to keep a low profile about birthdays and things of that nature to avoid any awkward situations. However are plan failed on February 3rd when we were enjoying a lazy afternoon and our host brother asked when our birthdays were. Now I had the option to lie but just couldn't do it so I answered with "today is my birthday". Then there was a discussion among our neighbors and host sister about why no one cooked pancit and how pitiful I was. Finally it was decided that Rebeka and I would go to our host grandparents house later that night. So seven pm rolled around and we walked over with our neighbor. The women were inside the house watching t.v. and the men were outside drinking gin. So we smiled at each other and Rebeka went inside the house and I sat down outside. The drinking circle had been in full swing for a while so they were a little buzzed and firing questions at me. Where did Rebeka go by herself this afternoon?, why do you sing the Pilipino national anthem?, what are you doing here?, how tall are you? and so on. Then the question of the night was asked. It was a simple question, which was: what did you guys do for work in the states? Rebeka gave a beautifully eloquent response in Tagalog about how she helps people with disabilities and so on. Then it was my turn so I thought for a second. In the states I would tell people I worked at a hazardous waste facility and handled noxious chemicals all day that were dropped of by various entities such as general consumers and small private businesses. However my lack of Tagalog prevented this worthy response so I settled on"nagtipon ako ng basura". The exact translation is: I collected garbage. Everyone in the barkada (drinking circle) stopped drinking and looked at me. For a second I thought I might have misspoke and said some awful Tagalog curse word or something. Then I heard a snicker from one of the guys and the rest of them burst out laughing. They repeated my response to make sure they heard me correctly and I said "oo, nagtipon ako ng basura saAmerika". Exact translation: yes, I collected trash in America. They all had a good laugh again and told me I should stay in the Pilipines because I could be a model here. I smiled and said maybe I would. Rebeka and I headed home later that night and I told her about how funny they found my previous occupation. It wasn't until a couple of days later when I realized the full impact of what I said. Up until that night they had known that we were from America and working as volunteers for the U.S. government, we have tons of material possessions, we buy a lot of expensive food, and we travel a lot. Then I dropped the bombshell that I was simply a garbage man in America. In their eyes a garbage man can have tons of material possessions, buy many things, travel a lot, and be selected by the U.S. government to serve as a volunteer at the expense of the government. I hear the phrase "land of opportunity" ringing in my ear.