thanksgiving in sagada

Last week i traveled up to Sagada, which is a sleepy little mountain town in Mountain Province, about a 15 hour trip north of where I live. It was worth every second of bumpy, carsick travel time. The last few hours of the trip some of us rode on top of the jeep we had rented to traNsport 18 of us plus our luggage, 4 live turkeys, and close to 200 lbs of veggies. Seeing the Cordillera mountains from atop the jeep was breathtaking. Its chilly up there so we were all excited to dig out the one or two sweatshirts we had brought from our inital training in Detroit. We didnt need to sleep with fans! We had to wear socks to bed! Craziness. Thanksgiving morning we woke up early and everyone began chopping, mixing, sauteeing, etc... there were 45 of us total so we had a lot of food to make. We had music, sunshine, a cool breeze, and Bloody Mary's. We almost didn't miss football. Sagada is a very tiny town in the middle of a mountain range so we had to bring everything with us from Baguio. I hung out with the turkey-killers for awhile and everyone had their chance to participate in the throat-slitting and blood-draining. I headed back to the kitchen when it was time for the less-fun details like the de-feathering and gutting...
The feast was perfect and we were not missing anything from home. It was a very authentic American Thanksgiving. The next few days were spent hiking, caving, and just exploring the area. I cant wait to go back. We got a cave guide and spent an afternoon in the Kabunyan caves. Definitely the highlight of the trip for me. The hiking was spectacular as well. This is an annual tradition for PC volunteers; we always stay at the same Pension, they let us take over the kitchen, etc. I would love to spend longer up there next year because after only four days I was definitely not ready to go home.

It's always so fun to reunite with volunteers who live on other islands and we rarely get to see. I definitely missed Thanksgiving in the States, but this was the next best thing. If anyone comes to visit, we will definitely be heading up north to Sagada!
(Mom, bring your Dramamine for the ride...)

the BER months

They have been preparing for Christmas since September. Seriously. I used to think seeing Christmas decorations in the mall before Halloween was ridiculous, but we've got nothing on these premature revelers. In early October I got my first "Merry Christmas!". Around the same time I started noticing (by noticing I mean jumping out of my skin and then cursing) fireworks going off just outside my apartment. I remember pop rocks as a kid (isn't that what they were called?) Those little white nuggets of fun, gunpowder wrapped in white tissue paper, perfect for tormenting one's older sister with. My brothers loved them. I mean, who doesn't? There's nothing like throwing a near-invisible explosive at someone's feet while their back is turned. Hilarious! The pop rocks here apparently aren't regulated. Which means they are insanely loud, industrial-strength, kids-probably-shouldnt-be-playing-with-them-unsupervised, fireworks. But they love them. I asked my landlord what the deal was. "It's the BER months!", Kuya Esmer replied. "Umm....what?" "You, know, SeptemBER, OctoBER..."
Right.
See, here's the thing: Filipinos are very early risers. The barangay is up and at 'em before the sun has come up. I understand this; it gets too hot within a couple more hours so people like to get going early. Here's another thing: There are ALOT of kids here. Probably more kids per square kilometer than Disneyland. I'm still trying to figure out whether this is lack of education about birth control or superstitions regarding birth control. I think it's a little of both. At any rate, 5am is wake up time, whether you like it or not. Don't have to work today? Wanna sleep in on Saturday morning?HAHA, sucker!! No chance!
These loud kids running about, staring in my windows and setting off fireworks outside my front door are also the reason I am not lonely and have rarely felt homesick here. They see me coming from far away and start running towards me, "Ate Carrie!!" I don't know a single one of their names. But they know me. Quite the little spirit-lifters if I am having a bad day. So, the BER months will be coming to a close here shortly. Hard to believe. I've become habituated to the crowing of the roosters my neighbors raise to fight (cockfighting is huge here). I don't know about these fireworks, though. Maybe I'll get used to them just as DecemBER wraps up.

Workin'

The past few weeks have been centered around a couple work projects, both of which I am very excited about. I am collaborating with my friends and fellow CYF volunteers Kate and Suzie, and we are developing a 12-week module of therapy sessions for our residents that are victims of sexual abuse, which is about 60% of them. Upon arriving at our respective centers, Kate and I were struck with how poorly equipped the social workers were to counsel and handle these residents and their cases. Suzie works for a NGO and her program is more community-based, but she also works with a large population of victims of rape/sexual assault. Most often, their perpetrators are family members (fathers, uncles, brothers, grandfathers) so if and when their case finally gets to court, the girls are usually reluctant to persecute because this man is the breadwinner of the family. If she sends her father to jail, who will support the family? What will happen to their younger siblings, their elderly grandparents that live with them and depend on him, etc? Statistically, mothers side with the father 70% of the time in cases like this (the father being the assaulter). Can you imagine being raped by your father, and your mother encouraging you to just forget about it and come home? These girls (often as young as 10), have a lot of pressure in cases like this, and unfortunately their family just isn't supportive. So the need for therapy with someone safe to discuss these things with is great. When it comes down to it, the people we work with here are in survival mode. Your standard Maslow's hierarchy model. They cant worry about values, morals, right vs. wrong, etc. If they don't have shelter and food for themselves and their children. If their financial supplier goes to jail, they have nowhere to go. Its hard, its depressing, its almost understandable, if you think about their options. They have none. So the three of us have decided to put together this module of group therapy sessions, focusing on topics like guilt, self-esteem, relationships, short and long-term goal planning, sexuality, body awareness, the legal system, etc. We will then train the social workers in different centers all over the region on how to conduct these therapy sessions and leave copies of the modules with the center, in the hopes that this will be sustainable and they will continue to use it when we are gone.
The other project the three of us are working on (we have collaborated because we are all in the same region) is a 3-day leadership "camp" or workshop (fun little acronym depicting the workshops' goals pending) in Manila where high school-aged girls are selected from different centers and communities to attend a leadership/empowerment "camp". We want to line up successful women in Manila and have panel discussions, etc with them and the girls so the girls can find out what sort of steps these women have taken to get to where they are. We are hoping these women will serve as role models and inspire the girls to stay in school, pursue scholarship options for college, etc. We presented this idea to our Filipina counterparts/supervisors and they were onboard. They suggested we find famous actresses to speak to the girls. They also suggested we get makeup and new clothes for the girls. They suggested asking the Congressional Wives' Club to speak to them. No, no, and no. We are not trying to set up a beauty pageant or encourage them to marry someone successful. A couple cultural roadblocks, but we are working around them...
These projects are exciting to us and we dove into them headfirst and are now feeling like we are drowning a little, running around trying to get sponsors onboard, traveling to Manila to meet with various "important" people, etc. but we are passionate about this and feel like it would benefit some of the girls. Re-reading this, it kind of sounds like we are naive little idealists running around the Philippines with a "save the children" banner. But we've been here long enough now that we are fully aware of the flop-ability of these projects too.
So, to sum it up, It's been a productive month. Who knows where these projects will go and if they will end up being sustainable. We are trying, and learning a hell of a lot in the process.


"Although the world is full of suffering, it is also full of the overcoming of it."
-Helen Keller

bath time for the young ones at Haven

last day of the semester at P.A.C.

Mga libing sa Pilipinas - hindi pareho!

(Funerals in the Philippines - not the same!) Last week my co-worker died. She was only 46 and got sick very quickly and by the time they discovered it was cancer, it was too late. Yet one more thing to add to my ever-growing list of things-i-formerly-took-for-granted: Healthcare. People here don't go to the doctor for yearly checkups; they go when they are extremely ill, like Tatty was. And as far as cancer goes, even if it is detected early enough, most people here can't afford chemo or radiation treatment. Tatty was a very dedicated social worker; she had been with DSWD for over 20 years. She was my PC counterpart also, so it had been her job to show me the ropes. She took a leave of absence in July and never came back. The funeral was a very sad affair as expected, and like every other occasion in this country, way too much food was served. Was I the only one that lost my appetite after viewing her body? Yes. Yes I was. The moment I stepped out of the viewing line, someone shoved a plate covered in a plastic bag (makes for easier cleanup at functions like this) in my face loaded up with rice, pancit, some kind of unidentifiable meat, and a packaged cupcake and juice box. Just what I'm in the mood for. A big old plate of food that I just saw in the kitchen being prepared in a bucket. Don't know what else that bucket's held in it's lifetime, don't think i'm gonna eat what was just in it. Oh yeah, and lets not forget I'm nauseus anyway from looking at a dead body. I tried my best to do the move-the-food-around-on-the-plate-trick but everyone was observing my non-eating too attentively; I think it gave them something to talk and whisper about besides what was actually going on. "What's wrong with the American? She isn't eating. Is she sick? On a diet? She doesn't like pancit? Why isn't she eating" etc....this went ON and ON. So I crawled into a parked van with tinted windows and hid until chow time ended. Then we went to the cemetary for the interment. Again, very sad, very interesting from a cultural perspective. For 2 reasons: 1: The leftover pancit was styrofoam boxed and brought to the cemetary to hand out as parting gifts, and 2: The local ice cream man (on bike, not truck) rolled right up onto the cemetary, across plots and headmarkers, ringing his loud, annoying bell, just as the ceremony was concluding. And he had plenty of customers.

with noah, abby, pat, reyna, owen, kate, and keith in mindoro

waiting for the boat in puerto gallera

lice and e. coli

I don't have lice. I do have e. coli. I do not want to devote any more energy talking (writing) about this devilish bacteria, so thats all I'm gonna say about it... I have it, I'm being treated, I'm feeling better. The end. As for the lice... Friday was the 25th anniversary celebration at Haven Pampanga, the center where I work. Staff and residents planned for weeks; the Mayor came, all the important barangay officials, etc. It was quite a big deal and the girls did their requisite dancing and singing numbers for the audience. When the eating, speeches, videoke-ing, dancing, and more eating were finished and we were all cleaning up, I sat down in one of the chairs to grab a drink of water (non-tap). All of a sudden I felt little hands behind me doing the lice pick!!!! It is a momentous day. I have officially experienced the rite of passage that leads me to believe that I am one of them. Or that they think I am one of them. Or that they think I am enough like them to do the lice pick in my hair. Ok, im getting ahead of myself...let me back up.
When I was still in training back in May in Bataan, all of us PC trainees went for a one week visit to our respective sites, observed (saucer eyes, jaws to floor) the community and facility where we would be working and living for the next two years. The day I arrived at my center, they put on a little welcome program for me, where they...yep, you guessed it, sang, danced, gave speeches, and served way too much food. The pavilion was decorated with crepe paper and a sign that read "Welcome Ms Carry, US Peace Corp". I was so touched. Being the guest of honor, I sat at the front by the "stage" (patch of grass) near the performers, so I was facing the audience. Suddenly I noticed that the girls, sitting in rows, were leaning forward, spreading the hair apart of the person in front of them, peering at the roots and picking stuff out. I tried to keep my composure, as the non-lice-pickers were staring at me, for many, the first white person they had ever met. I couldn't figure it out. What were they doing? Then it hit me. It was reminiscent of a National Geographic show I had seen years ago... the one where the apes are picking bugs from eachothers' hair and eating it. Was that what they were doing? They werent eating it, obviously, but was this such common practice that it was done in broad daylight, in front of everyone, during a performance?
I am laughing to myself as I write that and remember how appaled I was. But you see it everywhere. The staff do it to one another during meetings. You see it on the streets all the time. It is unabashed, free-for-all lice - picking, alot like the public nose picking and public urination (legal) that you see all the time here.
So on Friday when Babylyn, a magical little 12-year old that lives at the center with her mother and siblings, pulled up a chair behind me and started picking through my hair, I felt like I was going to cry. Because to me it means that they no longer look at me as the American, as the white girl, as the lucky girl that can afford cool shoes and earrings, as the outsider. The fact that she treated me like any other person at the center was a defining moment in my service here. It probably sounds ridiculous. But for 6 months I've been trying to accomplish this, trying to make them feel comfortable around me, trying to convince them that I am no different than they are.
So, I am proud to report that I am finally a member of the lice-picking-community. And I couldn't be happier about it.

Puerto Galera and PST2

It's been a busy couple of weeks. Busy in that I've been away from site and traveling a bit, not so busy in the sense that I've also been sitting around on my ass most of the time. First I went to Mindoro, the island south of Luzon, to meet up with 7 friends on white beach in Puerto Galera. There are definitely more beautiful beaches in the Philippines, but it is low season so it wasn't crowded and things were cheap. Lots o layin on the beach, playing in the ocean, eating good food, and drinkin beers. We found an authentic Italian restaurant that had things like prosciutto, mozzarella, rosemary....No idea where this stuff came from and how it was all so fresh, but we are still talking about that dinner. You have to understand how bad the food is that we eat day to day here, so something like that is totally memorable. So that was Puerto. From there we took a boat back to Luzon, and rented a van that was too small for our crew and all our backpacks, and being the smallest I naturally got voted to be in the back snuggled up with all the huge backpacks. It was quite a ride. But on the boat ride, the boat broke (engine just stopped....Typical and not at all surprising) so we just floated around for a while and waited for another boat to come tow us to shore. Turns out the engine hadn't broken, just run out of fuel. Not so good at planning ahead here. So we gassed up and went on our merry little way. Finally we made it to Silang, Cavite, considered my many to be the butthole of the Philippines. This is where we had PST2 (Pre Service Training. We have been here 6 months, so I don't know where the "pre-service" part of it comes from. I no longer ask about these things.) We were told that there was a pool, rec room facility with dart boards, ping pong, etc. So even though we were in the middle of nowhere we thought it sounded ok. Turns out we had to be in session from 8-7 every day. Pool and rec rooms close at 7. Sweet. Needless to say, it was a very long, boring week. It kinda felt like being at summer camp. Or prison. Some sessions were informative and interesting. Others were redundant and mind-numbing. I think its hard to plan for something like this tho, with so many people from so many backgrounds and projects/sites coming together. We all need different information. But it was cool to finally see some other volunteers that I hadn't seen since we got here in March. It was great to leave on Saturday and come to Manila for a few days. So now I am in Manila getting my ear fungus taken care of. It's always something.

September

Wow, coming up on the big 6 month mark in a couple weeks. In some ways it feels like my departure in march was a lifetime ago, in some ways it feels like yesterday. Mostly I cant get over how fast this is all going by. September will be a busy month. Next week I am heading to white beach in Puerto Galera, Mindoro, which is the island directly south of luzon. Some friends and I rented a house on the beach for a long weekend, and since its the off-season, it comes out to P300 per person per night, or $6. Cant beat that. From there we head to Cavite (well, half of us do; the other half goes to iloilo on panay) for our 6-month PC training. I have just learned that they would like me to present 2 workshops to the other volunteers while at training. One on behavior modification, one on working with special needs children. We were all hoping that since this is a mandatory training, they would be asking or hiring experts to come and teach us stuff. But looks like there have been more budget cuts, as I have been appointed the "expert" on these topics. From cavite I head to Manila for a 3 day conference with my supervisor for the volunteers that work within DSWD (dept. of social welfare and development, a govt. agency). I imagine it will be a smorgasboard of complaints about the corruption within government agencies here, peppered with reassurances from the higher-ups that things are a-changin.
its been an incredibly hot week without any typhoons. I hope they aren't saving themselves for when we are all laying on the beach next week...

Amoeba

I've promised myself that this will be the last blog entry about being sick. I've been in Manila all week, pooping in lots of different cups and getting lots of needles stuck in my veins. And the final conclusion is....Amoeba. So, more meds and lots of speeches on avoiding foods that have been sitting out, not drinking tap water, and washing my hands after i use the bathroom. What am I, three? When you are sick in the PC, they put you up at a hostel in a nice part of Manila called Malate. This is the part of town that is filled with tourists, nice stores, good restaurants of any cuisine you could want, and lots of coffee shops. I'm talking real coffee, not the instant kind they drink everywhere else here. Of course, coffee is not on my rice/banana/gatorade diet, but it smelled good when i walked by. The days are filled with waiting around for test results or for doctors to see you. Manila is a really cool city, like an Asian Manhattan (ok, maybe not quite as cool as Manhattan), but when you are sick and here by yourself, it's pretty boring and lonely. So yesterday, armed with Imodium and my water bottle filled with rehydration salts, I decided to check out the Mall of Asia. Apparently it's the biggest mall in Asia. I'm not a huge mall fan, but here, malling is a sport. And yes, mall is a verb. When you leave any mall here there is a big sign over the exit that says "thank you for malling". Mall, mall mall.
What a monstrosity. There is an ice skating rink inside it. What Filipinos know how to ice skate? The only ice they've ever seen is the ice that comes out of the freezer. And judging by the kids out there giving it a go, it was indeed a novel sport. Watching this spectacle was a great way to pass the time, though. I can't understand who shops there. The stores are high end, by American standards. But it looked like there were lots of tourists there. People travel here to mall? Unbelievable.
So, that's been my week. Tomorrow I go back to site, where my new washer awaits. I cant wait to try it. Despite all these new and bizarre ailments I've been experiencing, this is still the coolest experience ever. I guess that says a lot for the program I am part of and the country I am in. I am still in love with this adventure.

weekend trips

Over the weekend I went to visit my friends Kate and Pat in Nueva Ecija, which is a Provence about 3 hours notheast of me. For a week and a half we were talking about it, what kind of American food we would cook, what movies we would watch, what songs we would sing when we went out for videoke. Its so crazy how much you look forward to things like this. Just sitting around, talking and laughing, having a beer with friends. Nothing special. Its just so relaxing to not have to struggle through a tagalog conversation and have someone understand and reciprocate sarcasm.
Today is a Filipino holiday so its a day off. Ive decided that the mosquito situation is getting out of control, so i bought a few meters of screen and some duct tape. While I was hoisted on my washtub, which was on top of my coffee table, to tape up the screens, i saw that in my back "yard"there is nothing but standing water and trash. I guess that explains the swarms. Yeah, duct tape and screens. It looks pretty ghetto. But here its all about functionality. Nevermind whether or not its aesthetically pleasing (which its not. it looks like a six year old did it). I will still use my net and take my malaria pills, but now i dont have to cover myself in deet everyday. That cant be healthy.
When I was visiting Kate and Pat, i saw that they had bought a washer. Ive decided to do the same. I feel like this western-comfort splurge is a bit indulgent, but my stinky clothes would beg to differ. When you handwash, you hang things up that are soaking wet since you cant spin the water out. So on average it takes about 3 days for them to dry, longer if its raining, which it usually is. With the spinner it only takes a day so your clothes dry before they have a chance to get mildewy. I cant wait to take a shower and dry off with a towel that doesnt smell like wet dog.
Speaking of dog, I tried it last weekend. Its not too bad if its cooked adobo style. I mean i wont be making it for myself or anything, but I didnt gag while eating it.

sick...again

It's not a promising track record. In four months, Ive been hospitalized three times. So at the end of 27 months, I'll have only been in the hospital 21 times! It's always the same thing....an intestinal infection due to bacteria. The doctors say, "Be very careful of what you eat!". Right. Thanks. Like I'm walking around eating garbage off the street. Nothing is more miserable than being sick and dehydrated when you are this far from home. I am vigilant about the food and water that I prepare. The problem is, this is a country that likes to feed visitors. It's how they show their love and hospitatlity. They make you eat. Its impolite to refuse. So, I dont always know how long that mystery meat has been sitting out. Many people here cant afford refrigerators, some just have foam coolers, so oftentimes things are left out. You just cover it up with this ingenious contraption that I refer to as a "fly-keeper-outer"....I dont know what its called but its like a mesh plastic basket that keeps the flies off and the mice out. I'm not sure how much it prevents the bacteria from festering though...
At any rate, I am home and feeling better. I think I have sufficiently worried my mother into a state of panic and I am half expecting her to show up on my doorstep any day now.

new crib

I'm in! Saturday I moved out of my host family's place and into my apartment. It's not too far from my family's house, a little closer to the town proper of Magalang and a little further from work. I can still ride my bike though, it's not too far. It kind of reminds me of that exhilirating freedom you feel when you first go off to college. Independence is not something that's encouraged or valued in this culture, so I've had a hard time explaining this move to my host family (and most of my Filipino friends, for that matter). Why would I want to live alone when I can live with 15 other people and share one bathroom with no running water? I will be lonely! I will be scared! I won't be able to cook for myself, do my own laundry, clean up my own messes, do my own market shopping...
They love to take care of you, these wonderful people. They don't want you to have to do anything for yourself. It's been a big adjustment for me to let them help me, to not get frustrated and scream "LABAS!" when they all gather around to watch me hand wash my clothes, repeatedly telling me that I'm not doing it right and giggling to one another. As my patience reserve started to become depleted, I spent more and more time apartment-hunting. I think I left at just the right time.
My new place is very basic but there is running water and my landlords are awesome. They've already invited me to spend Christmas with them. I also have some new pets, in the forms of frogs, house lizards, and mice. They are helpful in keeping the bug population that also resides with me under control. There are windows in the front and back so there is a great cross-breeze that keeps it surprisingly cool. This was the most relaxing Sunday morning I've had in four months. I woke up, made coffee, read, fell back asleep, read some more....and stayed in bed as long as I wanted. There were no knocks at the door at 7 am wanting to know what I was doing and if I wanted breakfast; no kids peering in through my window and yelling my name in the hopes that I would get up and come play with them. aahhh...

recipes gone wrong

We can't figure it out. They have all the right ingredients. The produce here is beautiful. But somehow, it ends up with things it shouldnt. Avacodo cubes with condensed milk and sugar. Spaghetti with hot dog pieces and sugar. "Garlic bread", to go with the spaghetti, with butter, garlic, and sugar. A poached egg floating in your chicken noodle soup. Mayo on carrot cake. A hot dog wrapped in a waffle. Banana ketchup. Relish and ketchup as salad dressing. Gelatin cubes in pasta. Sugar in ALL bread products. Fish as a chaser when doing shots. The list goes on...
So avacado is, after all, a fruit. I can kind of see how they came up with that. They add milk, sugar, and ice, and make a milkshake. We do the same with other fruits. Ok, fine. But mayo on carrot cake? Where did that come from? And what's with all the sugar? Its out of control. It's no wonder diabetes is such an epidemic here. This is, as my friend Owen says, a county full of hummingbirds. The fact that i drink my coffee (which is instant coffee, so I have a hard time even calling it coffee) black is big news around here. Black coffee? You crazy, girl.
But I guess in a nation whose best-known food is halo-halo, it should come as no surprise. "Halo- halo" translates to "mix-mix". Thats because its a desert with a bunch of stuff floating in the bottom of it. Wanna know whats in it?Beans. Banana slices. Coconut slices. Red gelatin cubes. Corn. Green gelatin cubes. Ube (a purple root crop). Put some shaved ice top of it all, then (what else) top it off with some condensed milk and sugar, and enjoy!

the greatest good you can do for another is not just
to share your riches, but to reveal to him his own
-benjamin disraeli

from sea to shining sea

I'm about to utter what may be our country's most cliche phrase, but here goes: I am proud to be an American. I know, I know...but its true. I am always asked to explain PC to the locals. They are usually incredulous as to why anyone in their right mind would leave America, especially to come here??? They can't get over it. I explain that our government pays me a small living stipend to work in a developing country for 27 months, and how exciting I think it is to be immersed in a culture so foreign from my own for that long. Can I do it?, they want to know. Can I go to another country and my governement pays me?
While they arent fully grasping the sacrifices volunteers have made to do this, I see what they're saying. In a country where the majority of its citizens live far below the poverty line, a federally-funded volunteer organization is just about the last thing on their list. Being here is an extraordinary opportunity. While it is considered "volunteering" since I dont receive a salary, I am given enough of a stipend to live comfortably, or as PC says, "the equivalent to the average person in your community". It's not a bad gig. And at the end of it, I get to come home. I will return to the land of opportunity, where I wont worry whether or not I'll be able to find employment upon my return. I wont worry whether or not my employer will provide me with health care. I wont worry that the salary I make wont afford my transportation and housing.
The people here arent going anywhere. They are in it for the long haul. Without a Visa, Filipinos are legally allowed to travel to Hong Kong and (i think) Singapore. Thats it. Anywhere else, they must have a Visa, which is hands down the most coveted document in the land. Obtaining one is no small task; you must have a connection at the embassy, you must travel to Manila at your own expense to apply for it, you must wait years to get an answer, and then, if you get it, you must pay alot of money. So while everyone dreams of getting one, in reality, it doesnt happen too often.
While I am not necessarily enthralled with our administration's decisions regarding foreign policy right now (I dont want this to get political so I will just leave it at that), everyday I am reminded what an incredible priveledge it is to be an American. If i get nothing else out of this experience, that realization will be enough.

sunset-manila bay

better late than never

Ok, so I should have started this blog when i left the states 4 months ago. I cant possibly recount all the tales and emotions that ive experienced up until now. So here it is in a nutshell: MONTH 1- training, being coddled, lots of rules, wanting to be on our own. MONTH 2 - more training, more coddling, more rules, and still wanting to be on our own; we are all eager to be sworn in as volunteers and get to site to get our projects underway. MONTH 3 - reality. Missing newly-made friends from training, feeling like you have no idea what your job description is, and realizing your Tagalog isnt as good as you thought. In fact, it sucks. (most people in my area speak Capampangan, a dialect i didnt even know existed, so obviously wasnt at all prepared for, when i arrived). Now, the Philippines has some very beautiful areas. It is, after all, comprised of over 7,000 islands in the tropics. I wasn't one of the lucky ones that ended up in, say, an island in the Visayas. I am in a landlocked provence in north luzon, and live on a farm with lots of chickens (which by the way, dont just crow first thing in the morning), water buffalo, bugs and loud kids. It's fine. Well, it was fine in June when I arrived. But now here we are, going into August. As a stubborn, independent, moody 30-year-old, I think my time to move out has come. We are required to live with host families the first 6 months for "cultural integration". I have one month left to go, and as the household appliances ive been purchasing for my apartment continue to pile up in my 8x8 bedroom and my bitterness towards this PC rule mounts, I'm fairly certain Im as "integrated" as Im going to get right now.
SITE... Things at Haven are going well. I am moving ahead with projects despite not necessarily having counterparts (another PC rule that we must do everything with a ctrprt) because they are so understaffed, which is why im there in the first place. If I wait around for a staff member to become available instead of , for example, dealing with a current crisis (suicide attempt, runaway, girls engaging in sexual activities with one another) it will never happen. I didnt come here to try to look busy all day while waiting for someone to hold my hand thru a project.
SEC PROJ... Teaching in the Philippines. Hmm. Ive been hearing horror stories from other volunteers who are in the education sector and working in the school systems. The schools here are, quite frankly...a joke. Teachers show up when they want (if they want), and teach only when they are "in the mood" ( a direct quote from a teacher), smoke in class...Unfortunately things arent taken much more seriously on a collegiate level. I teach a freshmen class of Psych 101 at Pampanga Agricultural College. Again, classes are frequently cancelled at the last minute, because "its raining", "its too hot", or, my personal favorite, "theres a dance tonight". So this semester weve missed about 30% of the scheduled classes due to weather or other inconveniencing festivities. Again, this is COLLEGE. I do enjoy teaching though. When I get to.

So i guess thats it. What do i miss the most right now? A nice big healthy salad with home-grown veggies from my dads garden. Hot showers. A juicy hamburger. The Vine in O.B.
Just 23 months to go!!! sigh...