"Man, these prisoners can dance!"

Yesterday, we had the pleasure to go to the Cebu Provincial Detention and Rehabilitation Center to watch their rehabilitation program in action. Every last Saturday of the month, the inmates perform dance routines for an audience that they have worked hard to perfect. With 1500 inmates, you could probably imagine that it would be hard to get everyone in sync, but they are pretty successful at this part. There is a professional choreographer that comes to the detention center twice a day to teach and practice the routines with the men and women, two thirds of whom are in prison for serious crimes such as murder and rape. While the dances were amazing to watch, I cringed just a little bit every time they said the words “Dancing Inmates”, as I couldn’t help but picturing string puppets following every move their master guided them too. Then again, I guess they are in a prison. If the effects of the rehabilitation program are in reality as great as they claim, it’s a program that needs to be replicated elsewhere. I’m trying to picture American prisoners being excited about performing dances…

On another note, after the visit to the CPDRC, we decided to avail of the many massage services here in the Philippines, as my back has been sore for a few days now. I learned that when they say full-body massage, they are really not joking around. It’s all good, and today I feel like I need a massage to work out the kinks from my massage. Yikes.

Check out videos of the dances here. :)

Maayong Pasko.

Mama and Ian awaiting gift opening...Ian's face sums it up.

Ready to enjoy Christmas dinner!

My cousin Jan-Jan enjoying the Nerf football that was sent from home.

Trying to Hula-Hoop...apparently being old isn't an excuse the Filipinos use. I need practice.

Bubbles!

Brotherly-sisterly love.

Snacks...

Ready to Give.

My shoulder is the perfect height for a pillow.

Smiles all around.

Santa patiently watching.

A Pinoy Christmas.

Last week I received a package from my good friends Lindsay and Brendan, and I had explicit instructions not to open it until Christmas. While this should have been tough, it was made easy due to the fact that my sisters immediately took the gift from me and placed it with the rest of the family presents. There, done and done. I’m not going to lie, though—we did shake it and feel the edges, trying to figure it out (my sisters too, not just me!). Well, this isn’t a build-up to what it was, but rather, to the message that was inside. Lindsay had written a beautiful card that came just at the right time.

She said, “I can only imagine how glowing you are today. One of my best Christmases was spent in India, in a village where I was teaching. It changed this holiday for me, suddenly allowing me to only focus on things I was grateful for, and letting go of the stress which usually accompanies Christmas. Turning it into Thanksgiving in December.”

Well, Lindsay, you summed it up beautifully. And that’s what Christmas was for me this year. It was a time to say thank you for everything and everyone in my life, whether here present with me or far away. This year, Christmas was about creating something new. While I did miss the traditions at home—time with family and friends, Christmas cookies, snow (mm…I missed it for about two seconds), playing cards, watching Derby open his gifts, sleeping by the Christmas tree—there were some new traditions that we were making here, a combination of Filipino and American traditions. And I must say, it was the best Christmas I could have asked for, despite the millions of Christmas parties and craziness that whirled around.

Between last Sunday and Monday, I attended four Christmas parties at my workplace—three specifically for all the kids and one for the staff members. Parties here are much different than parties at home. There almost always involves some sort of program—performances of songs, dances, games, etc. Think of it sort of as the Christmas program that elementary schools do, where each class might perform something different. On Sunday night, I was recruited to be a participant in “Hip Hip Hooray”, which is a slightly obnoxious game from the show Wowowee, which is an even more obnoxious daily, three-hour-long game show. Google it. I dare you. It will forever change your life after you watch it. Anyways, I was one of twelve participants recruited to play in front of all of the kids at the center. Let’s be honest—my mind is pretty quick and I’m usually pretty coordinated (not really, but let’s just say that I am). These two factors led me to be, yes, the CHAMPION of Hip Hip Hooray. Let’s just say that if I’m forced to do something, heck, I’m going to do a darn great job at it. It doesn’t pay to be mediocre! And I came out of the deal with a whole bunch of chocolate, which was the grand prize.

Monday night, we had our staff party at work, which was also combined with someone’s 25th anniversary at our center and her sons 21st birthday (which is a “debut”….happens at 21 for men and 18 for women, similar to a quincienera). There was a nice dinner and a great performance put on by singers and dancers. After the dinner, everyone left except for the staff members (there are about 30-40), who all stayed to participate in the games portion of the evening.

The first game was quite hilarious, and not a game that any of you would be willing to play with your co-workers, I will bet. If you would, props to you. Well, this is what happens. Chairs are arranged in a circle facing outwards, like for musical chairs. Men sit down on the chairs, and women walk in a circle…like for musical chairs. The music plays, and suddenly stops…like for musical chairs. The women race to find a lap to sit on…like for musical chairs. You might have guessed it already, but the game is the same as musical chairs, except the women end up sitting on their male co-workers’ laps instead of directly on the chairs. Sound like fun? You bet. Now, like I said before, if I’m forced to do something, I’m going to do it well. There is no joking around with this girl. The first round was pretty successful, except I think I hurt the poor guy because I dove so fast on to his lap that he wasn’t exactly expecting it. During the second round, I sat on a lap at the same time as another woman, and in my process of leaving to run around the circle and find another lap, I accidentally elbowed her in the mouth. Now they REALLY love the American. Well, that was it. I was out on the second round.

The second game of the night involved seven women and seven men, and the purpose of the game was to see who had the largest facial features. A ruler was brought out, and the size of everyone’s eyes, nose, mouth, and ears were measured. I’m not quite sure how the final winners were decided, as it was different for every category, but after much laughter by both the participants and crowd, the game was over. I’m still working on figuring out the overall objective of the game, but hopefully by next Christmas I will understand.

After the two games, we had our exchange of manita/manito gifts (Secret Santas). We all stood in a circle with our gifts while the music played, and one at a time, we danced in the middle of the circle and handed our gift over to our manita. The whole process took quite a while, but it was really fun to see everyone have to perform in front of everyone. After the gift exchange, most of the crowd disappeared, but there were a select few that stayed to sing videoke. While I tried my best to avoid performance, I did have to succumb to singing both “That’s what friends are for” with my supervisor, and “I Will Survive”. After the night was over (which was at about 12:30), I realized that I need much practice in videoke before I am actually somewhat okay at it.

The next day, I went into work in the afternoon and the place was desolate. There was no one in their offices, and the main office was even locked. All of the kids were leaving to attend a Christmas party, so I headed home to make tutoring materials. When a co-worker found out that I was “working” at home, he told me to “Just relax!”. At that point I realized that yes, I am American, and yes, unless I am doing something “productive”, I feel somewhat guilty. I realized, though, that this was okay with me, and I continued with what I was doing.

On Christmas Eve, I woke up for 4AM mass at the local church, where I joined thousands and thousands of other people who were sleepy and also excited for the arrival of Christmas. Later in the day, after returning to bed, I went with my counterpart to pick up my gift from Peace Corps—a brand new bike! Thank you, Peace Corps, for delivering my bicycle allowance just in time for Christmas. I met another volunteer in the afternoon for coffee, and then I headed home to hang out with the family for Christmas Eve and bake my lasagna. Now, since it was my first Christmas in the Philippines, I didn’t quite know what to expect. After eating a small dinner, I started making the spinach lasagna for our midnight meal. Here, the main Christmas celebration takes place at midnight with a big meal and gift opening. Two of my siblings went to 10 PM mass, and the other sister went to take a nap. I then received an invitation via text to join my co-workers at videoke, but since it was 10:30 already, I decided to stay home and told them that I would practice for next time. With no intention of actually practicing, I casually mentioned it to my family as a joke that I would be “practicing” my singing here. Well, so we got out the videoke at home so that I could practice. While in large groups of people, this normally causes high levels of anxiety in me, it was really comforting and a LOT of fun just hanging out in the living room and singing videoke. I seriously could not get enough of it! Granted I’m no singing legend yet, but I stopped singing from my throat and started singing from my stomach. So the practice did me well! And what a fantastic Christmas—we took turns singing our favorite songs, enjoyed some wine, and waited in anticipation for midnight. After the clock chimed twelve, the fireworks in the street were colorful and the food on the table abundant. We enjoyed a great big meal and then opened gifts as a family.

Christmas Day here is really nothing special compared to at home. Unlike at home, stores and malls are still open, as the main Christmas celebrations took place the night before. In the morning, I was lucky enough to fall down the stairs with my body still intact! While at first I thought my ankle might have been twisted, it turns out the pain went away after about a day. Clutzy me. Later in the day, my oldest sister was becoming a godmother for the third time, so I decided to attend the baptism with her. Now, I’m not quite sure if Christmas is just a popular day for baptism, or if there are just this many babies being born ALL THE TIME, but there were about thirty babies being baptized on Christmas Day. THIRTY! It was a bit chaotic and not at all like a baptism at home. Afterwards, we attended the party at the home of the parents (who were friends of my sisters), which also happened to be their family Christmas party as well. As soon as we realized it was the family Christmas party, we tried to make an exit plan. However, we weren’t quick enough, as my sister was called on to stand up and wave, and since I was the token American, I was called on to come to the front and introduce myself into the microphone. This is so that everyone can know who I am, what I do, and why I’m there. They may have also guessed that I invited myself to this baptism as well, but hopefully not…

The night of Christmas, I taught my family how to play Uno (which was a gift that I had given to Papa for Christmas). They had so much fun with the game, and we played until late into the night. I am foreseeing my Uno tournaments in the months to come. The day after Christmas, my body was so tired that I slept almost until noon, and then again from five until seven. I felt sickness coming on, so tried to rest as much as possible. Fortunately, the Uno game we played that night helped me to feel a little better!

So that was a very LONG-WINDED version of my Christmas, and I’m sure you fell asleep halfway through. All-in-all, I couldn’t have asked for a better Christmas, because as Lindsay said it would do, it really “allow[ed] me to focus on things that I was grateful for and letting go of the stress which usually accompanies Christmas.” Thanks Lindsay!

Merry Christmas all <3

Happy Holidays!

Dear Family and Friends,

I know this is not a substitute for a real, hard-copy Christmas card, but I hope it will suffice and mean the same, nonetheless! Wishing you all a very Merry Christmas, Happy Hanukkah, and Happy New Year from the Philippines, where there is no snow or cold and the palm trees are sprinkled with beautiful Christmas lights.

Much love, peace, and safe travels!

Lynn

<3

Insomnia.

It’s 2 in the morning, and for the fourth or fifth night in a row, I am awake almost until my siblings will awaken for the 4 AM mass. I can’t say for certain what causes this—maybe it’s the sugar high that the freshly arrived Christmas cookies have caused, maybe it’s the red wine (although it should have the opposite effect), maybe it’s the fact that I have the day off tomorrow and I am so excited by all the possibilities, maybe the continuous muscle twitching in my right arm and back are not letting my mind rest either, maybe the book I’m reading is causing too many thoughts to wander about, maybe I’ve just realized that I have no clue what I will do for my Master’s degree project, or maybe I am considering all of the possibilities for my life after Peace Corps (because although it’s premature, it’s a normal thought process). I guess no matter what the cause, my mind is not resting. Even on the nights where I do get to sleep, I am usually awake at about 5:30 or 6:00 AM from a weird dream (not malaria related), only to struggle to get back to sleep and then struggle again to wake up later in the morning. I’m not exactly too worried about this, because I’m in the Peace Corps, and apparently the Peace Corps has been known to stir up a few thoughts in the minds of volunteers once in a while.

NOTE: Regarding previous post’s theory about the invisible pimples being due to lack of sleep, it is still proven untrue because of the fact that there is a lack of pimples as evidence.

Back to the point. What am I doing here? Well, I’m learning about myself and the world through cross-cultural, social, academic, professional, economic, political, etc. frameworks. I’m creating my experience. One other main portion of what I’m doing here relates to the professional project for my Master’s. Well, right now I’m super lost. “Super lost”, in case you’re wondering, is a highly sophisticated academic term that is used only when someone has no clue what they are doing. Basically, I came with the understanding that something will present itself in some way to me at some point during the next two years so that I will say, “Bingo. That’s what I’ll do for my project.” Well, obviously I’m only about a month and a half into being at site, and I am not expecting for anything to be clear at the moment. At the same time, though, I feel lost as far as even a topic to narrow in on or a type of media to use. I feel ill-prepared to do any sort of in-depth or long-term research project, and I would have no clue how to even go about getting approval on the sorts if it were so decided. I also feel ill-prepared to use my creativity (creativity!?!?) towards completing a non-traditional, academic project that will be mentally stimulating, professionally challenging, and beneficial to the community I am working with. Ha, actually most of the time, I am left wondering where my creativity has disappeared to in the first place. Not only this, but I feel like I have a slight interest in so many topics here that relate to children that it is extremely difficult to narrow in on just one. Think of any topic possible that you could ever research, place them all on a Venn diagram, and stick me in the middle of all the circles…that’s how vague I feel at the moment. Oh, the possibilities.

Now, really, the insomnia extends beyond just that of course, but that’s what’s been stirring through my mind between 11:30 and 2:00, minus the time I spent reading my current book - “Long Walk to Freedom: the Autobiography of Nelson Mandela”, doing deep breathing to try to convince my mind that it’s tired, trying to figure out the strange sounds outside my window, and trying to decide which movie to watch so that at least if I can’t sleep, I’ll be entertained. Oh, thank you Peace Corps for placing me somewhere with electricity. Although maybe it encourages my insomnia, it keeps my mind sane.

Peace.

"What's wrong with your face?"

What I already knew shortly after arriving in the Philippines and what I recently learned several times within the last few days is that there are definite cultural differences when it comes to what is okay and not okay to say to someone else regarding their personal appearance. Don’t get me wrong…I’m all about giving my honest opinion about someone when it’s asked. And sometimes a little white lie may be necessary, and I’m okay with that too. But there are just some things that, no matter how much I understand and respect cultural differences in communication, still get a bit personal.

The other day, I arrived at work and on my way to attend a staff meeting, I was closely observed by a co-worker, and what came out of his mouth was, “Ohh….what happened to your face?” He was looking at my forehead and starting to point, and not remembering anything particular that was WRONG with my face earlier that day, I asked, “What? What do you mean?”. We then discussed the pimples that were apparently on my forehead, and his theory of their existence is because of lack of sleep. I agreed, even though there is no way, since I get plenty of sleep since my time is not occupied by much else these days. About two hours after this conversation, I returned home and looked in the mirror, expecting to see horrible pimples that had somehow sprouted between the time I showered that morning and the time I arrived at work. Now, we all tend to be over-critical of ourselves and tend to notice flaws that are there that other people may not notice at all. After looking in the mirror, I decided that I had absolutely no pimples on my face at the moment, and particularly NOTHING (not even blotchiness, redness, or an on-the-brink pimple) on my forehead. So the answer to the question next time will be, “What’s wrong with YOUR face?” It’s like something a fourth-grader would say to another kid on the playground. Ouch.

Today, I arrived and hadn’t even had time to get to my office when I was told, “Ay, you’re gaining weight.” I countered with, “No, I weigh myself every week, and my weight has stayed the same”, just to state the truth. I also wanted to add, you should have seen me BEFORE I came to the Philippines, or I’m allowed to be a little chubby since it is Christmas season ya know, or wow I actually thought my thighs were looking fantastic today in these jeans, or my body seems to think it’s winter and in winter I bulk up to keep warm, but I didn’t. In actuality, I haven’t gained any weight at all, but the shirt I was wearing was meant to fit me at a much bigger state. Another co-worker then chimed in with, “You’ve gotten fat and are no longer sexy. Muahahahahah.” Now, this was a quick change of events from the normal comments I receive about my body (usually on a daily basis), such as, “Ah Lynn, you are much more beautiful now that you’re skinny.” Or, “Don’t lose any more weight, just maintain, perfect.” Well, thank you very much since I never asked anyone’s opinion anyways. Even with the so called “compliments”, I’d prefer to go without knowing that everything I do and how I look at each minute throughout the day is scrutinized and judged.

Call it a cultural difference that I completely respect, but it’s not doing much for boosting my self-esteem, which was actually pretty great before the invisible pimples were pointed out and before I seemed to have lost my sexiness.

Cheers :)

Family Tradition.

Speaking of Christmas, Mama informed me last night that she just bought a gallon of wine for the two of us to celebrate the time leading up to Christmas. Now this is a tradition I really like.

The Days of Christmas.

As the days inch toward Christmas, the Philippines is starting to slightly transform into a festive spirit. I’ve heard the claim that the longest Christmas season in the world is here, as Christmas carols and decorations could be found in the department stores as early as September. I’m not going to lie, I do enjoy every visit to the mall because of the carols. There are various Christmas decorations around the city, and the Christmas lights in the palm trees add an extra zip to the season. It is much different than at home, as the snow doesn’t need to be brushed off the trees in order to see the lights. The spirit of Christmas also seems much different here than at home - more about the arrival of baby Jesus, and less about Christmas "traditions" (I think that's what Christmas is supposed to be about anyways...if I recall). And then I saw the giant Santa Clause in the Bishop’s office, and I got confused…

This morning, I found myself awake at 3:00 AM and heading to Misa de Gallo with my siblings, which starts at 4:00 AM every morning for the nine days leading up to Christmas. This is a Spanish tradition, and it means “Mass of Dawn.” Why it starts at 4:00 AM is beyond me. Dawn clearly isn’t until 6:00 AM, since it was still dark by the time we returned home at 5:30. The belief is that if you attend Misa de Gallo for all nine mornings, your special prayer or wish will come true. Since I missed the first morning and probably will not attend the next seven mornings (that’s REALLY early), obviously my wish will not come true, although I find it difficult to believe that even if I attended all nine mornings that God would find a way to pay off my student loans or transport all of my friends and family to the Philippines. It was obvious by attending mass, though, that many people do hold Misa de Gallo very seriously. There were well over a few thousand people there—most were standing or seated outside on little stools or foldable chairs that they brought from home, watching the giant screens that were broadcasting the action from inside. As I looked around at all of the attendees, eyes were glazed over and heads were nodding in and out of sleep. Clearly there was a religious awakening going on, and I was left questioning what this “sacrifice” really means and if God really intended for people to walk through these nine days being overtired. It was so nice to return to my bed, finish watching Love Actually (for the Christmas spirit, of course), and fall back asleep.

December is also taken up by a series of Christmas parties that seem to occupy so much time and energy. Sunday night I accompanied my family to the Christmas party they have with all their friends. We rented out a local “sports complex” with two really nice pools, videoke (of course), and a place for eating. I believe there was also a driving range and tennis courts, but we stuck poolside. We had a ton of fun, and I got over the stress of singing videoke in front of my family for the first time. Even though my voice was shaky and I found myself laughing through most of it, it was accompanied by a few sad and lonely applauses at the end (just kidding, it was a huge round of applause—I think because it was over). The food was delicious, and I got some great swimming in. Man, it was cold though with a slight breeze and the temperature was down to 80 maybe! This weekend, I have three Christmas parties to attend, all at work. By next week, I should be tired to say the least!

You may be wondering if I am finding ways to celebrate here, being so far from home. To tell you the truth, even though I’m not usually a huge fan of Christmas, it is sort of difficult to be away from the White Christmas, the cookie baking, the Christmas trees, etc. Luckily enough, I received two Christmas packages so far this week, and they were both amazing! Since then, I’ve been listening non-stop to the Christmas music that arrived, enjoying the Christmas cookies and party mix that was sent, watching any of my movies that somehow remind me of the Christmas season, and reading a Christmas-themed book that arrived. You may think this is a little overboard, but I love it. The cookies arrived safe and sound, even though the box they were in was covered in ants. Thank goodness for Ziplock bags, though, and weak ants. They were my favorite—peanut blossoms (I think this is my first year where I haven’t baked them)—and even though they were smushed to crumbs and barely recognizable, having sat in the package for about a month, they were still so soft and delicious. The crumbs were put to good use by converting the cookies into a cereal. Easy. I’ve also finished all of my Christmas shopping to put me into the Christmas mood. I carefully picked out gifts for each member of my new family, and I can’t wait to spread the Christmas joy!

So although it’s not quite the same and not exactly a substitute for being surrounded by family and friends, it’s doable. In reality, I don’t like snow and cold too much anyways.

One thing's for certain.

This past week, I came to the realization of at least one truth in life. My Papa cooks the best chicken ON.THIS.PLANET. This is coming from someone who yes, used to be vegetarian (and still am, as far as Filipino understanding of vegetarian is concerned – I like vegetables). This is also coming from someone who, given the choice of chicken or no chicken on a Caesar salad (which is absolutely my favorite), would almost always choose no chicken (of course, even before I was vegetarian…). But back to the point, it’s literally the best chicken I’ve ever eaten.

One thing that I’ve discovered while being here is that, from my opinion, it’s part of Filipino culture that someone can convince someone else of anything. Walking on the side of the road? Of course you can be convinced to jump in a jeepney simply by a banging sound on the roof of the jeep, a kissy sound, or a loud calling of the place you hadn’t even thought of going before….but now that someone’s telling you should go there, you’re a bit tempted. You’re a vegetarian? Well, that’s because you haven’t tried eating meat. If you just try the pig, you’ll love it! Here, just a little. Oh, it’s only the fatty part. Eat it. You don’t like the fat? Here…the skin, eat the skin. It’s the best part. Delicious. Finished eating? But you must still be hungry. Eat more, there’s only a little left. You’ll be tired later. But look at the sad look on my face, eat, eat, eat. Anonymous health concern? Just watch television. There are commercials to solve everything, with no clinical or scientific proof! But the actors in the commercials look so happy. You must buy it. Want your kid to grow up to be big and strong? Here, just give him this chocolate-y flavored, sweet drink that we’ve marketed as a health drink, but really, it’s not. Trust us. Your child will thank you later.

I must say I’m guilty of falling for this once in a while. First, back to the chicken. When I arrived at my training site, my thought was, “Okay, I can try any food that is put in front of me. I just have to do it. It’s part of all that ‘cultural sensitivity’ business. I don’t want to be a picky eater.” Well, after I discovered that the cooking at my first family was just so….not the best…I quickly changed that thought. It was the meat in particular that grossed me out. So I had a chat with my Nanay about how I used to be vegetarian and was really going to try to eat meat in the Philippines, but I just can’t do it. This turned out to be okay, even though the “vegetables” I was given were still cooked in meat and I was still expected to eat the completely disgusting bright red hot dogs with gray mushiness in the middle, with banana ketchup. Which I didn’t. Anyways, I figured when I arrived at my permanent site, I would just tell them I’m vegetarian and be very direct about the types of food I like and do not like. That would just be easiest, right? Well, that is until they put the most delicious looking chicken in front of me! It was hard the first couple times not to eat it…I didn’t want to seem like a hypocrite. Finally, I took advantage of the convincing tendency of everyone and I tried the chicken. Mmm, pretty good. I’ve been eating chicken here ever since, and the other day, my Papa cooked a whole fried chicken. I grabbed a leg and started tearing it apart with my fork and my hands (because, yes, now I occasionally use my hands to eat…even though I totally HATE sticky fingers…but it’s much easier than the fork and spoon combo which are the two utensils that are used here). Of course, this was in a very feminine and civilized manner. I lifted the piece of chicken to my mouth. ***Muahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh*** . It was the most amazing burst of deliciousness from a dead animal that I’ve ever tasted (right up there with elk burgers and venison chili! …except BETTER). Between lunch and dinner, my sister and I pretty much tackled that entire chicken.

The other chicken that is amazingly lami (delicious) is lechon manok. A.MA.ZING. It’s roasted on a skewer over a hot pit of coals, just like the lechon paboy we had for Thanksgiving. Except it’s delicious, unlike anything involving a pig, with the exception of deli-style ham, thinly sliced. While watching the big fight the other day, where Manny Pacquiao beat Oscar De la Hoya, my younger brother was sent to buy a lechon manok—an entire chicken for only P140! That’s about $3ish. What a deal. Ohhhh, that lechon manok made watching all those darn commercials during the fight so much better. So delicious.

Long story short, though, is that chicken in the Philippines is just so much better than any chicken you can get in the States. Period. That’s one thing that’s for certain.

...No Creative Title...

Has it really been two weeks since I’ve written something of substance? The time is flying by here so quickly, I’m not quite sure what to do with that thought. I bought some Christmas cards (and by some, I mean two, about a month and a half ago…I wasn’t too ambitious) to send out, but it’s getting to that time where if I send them, they will get there late anyways. Then I figured out, better to just wish people Merry Christmas via email, or depending on how ambitious I feel about that, via blog. I am usually a pretty big fan of celebrating Christmakkuh (shout out to my fellow O.C.-fans), but sadly I don’t think I’ll be able to find any Hanukkah wrapping paper here. And also sadly, I don’t think handing over Christmas gifts to family and co-workers in Hanukkah paper would have quite the same acceptance rate as it does at home. Not that people get excited about my crazy attempts to infuse other cultural or religious practices into our traditional Christmas celebrations, but in somewhat understanding me, my family somewhat understands my attempts. That said, I hope someone at home has the heart to buy Hanukkah paper and wrap their Christmas gifts in it, since I will not be able to.

This past week has been a bit of a rollercoaster of emotions. Simply put, there was one day where I realized that I’m not quite sure what my job is. Not that this is a new realization at all, nor is it a realization that any other Peace Corps Volunteer hasn’t had, but it was just one day of, “Hmm…what do I do?”. It hasn’t been the only day like that, nor will it be the last. Fortunately, that night I made up my mind to figure out what my job is the next day. This is easier said than done, however, since discussing what I will be doing and actually doing them are two different things. I did manage to get a much more concrete understanding and more of a solid hopefulness than I had before.

Friday, I went with one of my counterparts to a new community where we will be targeting our outreach program with supplemental feedings, child weighing, early childhood development activities, and classes of different sorts for the mothers. The area we went to had a pretty low level of educational attainment (typical for poorer areas here, and everywhere, for that matter)…anywhere from completion of Grade 2 to some high school grades. There were a couple who had finished high school, and it seemed that all of the children were in school as well. We arrived in this small community to interview the mothers individually about their families, their children, and any problems they may be encountering in their households and community. Between two interviewers (my language skills aren’t quite up to par yet to do in-depth interviewing), we finished about ten individual interviews with mothers. In this time, I was able to observe activities around and the children. Mostly, women and children were busy tending to washing, which takes up a majority of the days here. There were a few men around, who seemed to be tending to the roosters. It was obvious that many of the children were not where they should be developmentally (from just observing, physically and behaviorally). There was another observation I made as well—in seeing just a small amount of families, there were two children with cleft lips, one child with other physical impairments (I couldn’t quite narrow it down, perhaps severe malnutrition…but facial features weren’t completely formed), and one woman with what looked like a large tumor. It was so interesting that there was such a high concentration of noticeable physical deformities in one place (is deformities a correct word here? Not sure if disability would be appropriate…hm.). It occurred to me that we don’t really see cleft lips in the United States very often, simply because it is fixed by surgery shortly after birth. The occurrence of cleft lips worldwide is 1 in every 600-800 births, and they are most common within Native American and Asian populations. There are several different causes, which include genetics, maternal diet and vitamin intake, seasonal causes (ex. Pesticide exposure), or uses of alcohol or other drugs during pregnancy. Chances are within this area, the major cause would be a combination of genetic and nutritional, although I am by no means an expert. (Thanks Wikipedia, my trusted and very scholarly resource…).

This community on Friday really helped me to feel much better about my job and what I’ll be doing. The social worker and I discussed possibilities for classes that we can hold with the mothers, as well as a training for the teenagers within the community to conduct early childhood development activities for the youngsters. We’ll be sitting down next week to come up with a schedule for 2009 and a list of areas we would like to tackle. I’m pretty excited about this endeavor, because coming into the Peace Corps, I was really undecided about whether to pursue youth development or health, but with this project I’ll be able to target both areas. I also decided to change my schedule from here on out, which will hopefully help to make me much more productive and useful at my center. From now on, I will be working afternoons and evenings, which means I’ll be able to work with the kids at tutorials and get to know them much better, which obviously wasn’t really happening when I worked just during the daytime (they were all in school).

All in all, I feel much better about the roller coaster that was occurring last week. Yesterday, there were visitors at our center so I was privileged to be able to perform again in the program we put on for them. Of course, I love dancing, especially in front of hundreds of people when I obviously look like I don’t belong. I showed up yesterday at my appointed time, all ready to dance. Having being told the program starts at 3 PM, I was quite surprised when I rounded the corner at work and the program had already begun. Feeling slightly embarrassed at being late (and muddy because of the rain), I took my seat by the visitors and chatted with them a bit (I get to sit by the visitors because I haven’t quite yet established my presence as an “insider”, nor am I quite a “visitor”, but I guess sort of an “ambassador”). In looking around, I noticed that all of the other co-workers were dressed pretty casual (jeans and nice tops), which was a contrast to me in my skirt (granted, I was wearing my flip-flops as if I were going to the beach, but nonetheless, I was still in a skirt). The day before, I was told I should wear a skirt for the dance, which is no big deal because that’s what we did last time, so why wouldn’t we? Well, since I showed up in a skirt, many people started laughing at me (perhaps with me, I’m not sure). Apparently the dress code had changed somewhere in between the night before and the performance, but no one told me. It’s all good, of course, until I feel like I’ve been laughed at enough, and then it’s more just sort of annoying. I find myself wanting to explain…but, but, but….and to no avail. Ah, well.

On an upnote, it’s a chilly 77 degrees today where I’m at, which finds me in my one long-sleeved shirt (not quite fleece weather yet, I’ll wait until it drops below 75) and sweatpants. Brr, the rain really adds an extra bite.

I’ll be watching the big boxing match today between Pacquiao and De La Hoya with the rest of my family. It’s a pretty big deal, as Pacquiao is representing the Philippines and there’s a lot of pressure on his shoulders. I will compare it to the Super Bowl in the US….hardly any traffic, large gatherings to watch the fight, my family even shut down the catering business today (they had MANY requests for orders) for the holiday. Soooo fun, about to start.

Ciao.

Shout-out to Ethan Nickolas!

This post is delayed by a little over a week, but I wanted to give a warm "Welcome to the world" to Ethan and a very excited "Congratulations" to Julie and Nick, who are already amazing people and I am absolutely certain will be incredible parents. I can't wait to meet him!

<3

Thanksgiving Amazingness.

I have no comments, because they speak for themselves...

Thanksgiving Food.

There was so much gluttony over this past Thanksgiving, and I have so many great photos. Here are just a few...focusing on the food of course. Saturday night, we were lucky to have an amazing sunset to enjoy (normally don't get to see that!), and of course there are a million photos.

This is our Lechon "Paboy" (pig/baboy + turkey/pabo = paboy). They opened up the pig's middle and shoved a turkey and a bunch of stuffing inside for roasting. I'm sure it was delicious.

The results of our full day of cooking...although you can't really tell, there was SO much food - I think it was the most "traditional" Thanksgiving I have ever had.

Here is the meal that I cooked for my family on Thanksgiving day - not very traditional, but it's what I usually cook at home! Spinach lasagna accompanied by chicken surprise, rice, and garlic bread. Finished off with ice cream...we were pretty full!

My family and I getting ready to dig in!

Oh heaven....

Exhausted!

This weekend I was lucky to be able to attend the annual leadership training held by my site for the youth leaders—there were about twenty of them in all, mostly late teens and some early twenties. Saturday afternoon, we packed up all the necessary items for camping and training—tents, pots and pans, food, computer, projector, playing cards, a Frisbee, a bottle of rum—and headed to the beach. Just kidding about the bottle of rum. Now you may think this is weird, but those of you who know me understand that sometimes there is nothing I would rather do than spend a weekend with a bunch of teenagers. Sound crazy? You don’t want to spend a lot of time with selfish, moody, sometimes smelly and annoying teenagers? When I worked at Washington JHS (shout out to all you guys!), I always had the chance to chaperone the dances—heck, sign me up! I really have so much fun with these things. I do not find teenagers to be annoying ever—sometimes moody and smelly, but never annoying. And we’re all selfish at some point, even more so as teenagers, so I understand.

We arrived at the venue—the beach!—and quickly got settled and set up. The training started promptly, and my main job was to observe and take lots of pictures. Check. The training was set up by my supervisor—the head social worker—and run mostly by her as well. Topics included discussing good and bad habits, doing a personality evaluation, energizers, team-building activities, and more. Of course, there was also time for eating, playing cards, watching a movie, and even a group exercise session early in the morning.

Now, from what I’ve heard about Philippine working culture, things are supposed to be slow, poorly planned, bureaucratic, etc. I was SO impressed with this training and how it was done. With that said, I don’t really feel like I am in the right place—everything was efficient, well-planned, on time, and sufficiently resourced. Watching my supervisor at her job is amazing—I know that I have much to learn about being the best social worker I can be, and this will be a great place for me to do it. She is fantastic at her job, always working, relates well to the kids, and is excellent at building relationships—with both kids and colleagues. I can say the same for my counterpart. They definitely both take their jobs seriously—and by serious, I mean that a main philosophy at work is that we need to laugh a lot, and laugh often. Before my dance performance last week (yes, I performed in the staff dance for a program…sorry! Forgot my camera!), I told them how I was a bit nervous because Americans are typically not performers, especially me. The response was, “Lynn, you shouldn’t be nervous…it’s just going to make you look old. Just laugh.” Alright, so I laughed through the dance about how silly I probably looked—all Filipinos and then me, tall and blonde and blue-eyed and uncoordinated.

Just a note about this “performer” thing. Filipinos, as part of their culture, are performers. Everyone has a talent—they sing, they dance. If you come here, expect to sing videoke…you don’t have to be good, but they’re pretty darn good. At parties here, the main thing to do is to sing or dance for the group. You may not have ever thought about it before, but Americans are not really performers. We typically like to blend in, or if we do like to stand out, we do it via what we’re wearing or what we talk about or how we carry ourselves. At American parties, depending on the atmosphere, we sit around and talk, play a game of cards or if we’re wild a board game, have some drinks, maybe dance in a group, listen to music, etc. Maybe the best and most unanswerable question I’ve gotten here so far (besides “So after you marry a Filipino, you can still be a Peace Corps volunteer, right?” or “So if you don’t want a man, then you want a woman?”…those were also pretty good) is, “What is your talent?” WHAT?!?! My talent??? Well, when I was in second, or maybe fourth grade, I performed a dance routine in our school talent show…it didn’t require try-outs, so it might not have been good. (But those purple skirts that Barb made for us were amazing!) Oh yes, then in fourth grade or so, my voice was so bad in church choir that the pianist stopped the music and said, “Who IS that?” And I can wiggle my ears. Oh yeah, I can dance a mad “bus driver” and “running man”. I’m pretty good at matching up socks after doing laundry. And alphabetizing things. And texting. And spelling. Those can be my talents, right? The fact that I have a voice that sounds like a man when I sing and a lisp that is amplified anytime it is recorded or goes through a microphone (at least I hope that’s amplification…if I actually sound like that, yikes…or should I say yikesth…) doesn’t help me in the singing department at the talent store. And the fact that I only laugh when I dance because I usually realize it looks ridiculous, unless I’ve had a few drinks (then I seem to think I’m pretty good), doesn’t help me in the dancing department. So, what is my talent? I don’t know, but if that isn’t an intimidating question, I don’t know what is!

Anyways, back to the training. Saturday night, I was given a tent to use but decided to forego tent usage so that I could wake up and look directly at the beach and sunrise and once again realize I’m in paradise. This, as it turned out, was a fantastic decision. Despite this fantastic decision however, I am pretty sure I only got about an hour of sleep. I went to bed around 1 AM, after learning a new Filipino card game and watching Armageddon with the kids (so cutely pronounced Ar-MAG-a-din by them). It turns out that next door to the beach we were at was a pretty happening night club (by pretty happening, I mean there could have been anywhere from three to two hundred people there…I’m not real sure), and the music was bumping until 3 AM. Normally, I wouldn’t complain about this, as I might be the one out that late enjoying the music. But, I was trying to sleep on a wooden bench that I just could not get comfortable on, and all I could hear was “Low” and a hip-hop mix to a Sublime song that was perfectly fine before they mixed it. After moving around quite a bit (my shoulders and arms fell asleep a few times), I finally got to sleep shortly after the music ended. About an hour later, at the ripe hour of 4 AM, I’m not sure what happened but some of the teens decided that it was a great time to wake up. Now, if American kids were at summer camp or something like this and they woke up at 4 AM and wandered about the grounds, the automatic suspicion by the adults would be that maybe they’re going to make out in the woods, smoke pot, or worse, steal a car, pick up all their friends, get drunk, and make babies. What did the kids at the training do? Of course they woke up early to start cleaning the room that we used the night before! What else? I was able to doze a bit after that, very lightly of course, but I woke up for good at 5:30 to a beautiful sunrise. I almost forgot where I was, until I sat up and looked to my left at the ocean and the sun just peeking up.

We finished the training on Sunday and enjoyed a nice big lunch—fish, chicken, and pork chops on the grill, tons of fresh mangoes, salad, and of course, rice. The kids were able to go swimming before we left, and I played a few great games of cards. I was so exhausted by the end of the day, but even more impressed with how everything was done! It left me more confused than ever, though, on what my job will be. My permanent site is, simply put, A.M.A.Z.I.N.G. They are progressive, resourceful, positive about the future. They have a great mission and they provide the best living environment that I’ve ever seen for children and youth in especially difficult circumstances (CYEDC), here in the Philippines and also in Guatemala and the US. These kids are definitely loved. I could not ask for a better place to learn, to give my time and energy, and to spend the next two years. But how can I, who yes has a pretty good depth of various work and volunteer experience for my age, but who also is really just a beginner at this whole thing called being a professional, really successfully “expand capacity”? Now, don’t get me wrong. I would MUCH rather be in this position, wondering what my job is going to be, than to be overwhelmed by all the gaps and places for improvement I see in a program. So basically, I’m in a good place…I just need to find out what is meant for me to do in this good place that I’m in.

After a long week, I was exhausted, as I’ve mentioned already. Today I had a much-needed day off! It was so great. First of all, Sunday nights are great because I usually get to talk to my family, which starts off the week just right. This morning, I slept in, ate a lovely breakfast of Corn Flakes and chocolate cake (give me a break, my pants don’t fit…need to tighten them up), and maginterneted for a while. With the help of my mom, I figured out how to use voice chat. For a while in my life, I felt technologically literate, but then when everything started to speed up, I got lost. Voice chat is a big deal for me. Then I took a nice hot shower (have I mentioned I have a hot water heater? Ahhhh, life).

I had heard of a dive shop that gives a forty percent discount to Peace Corps volunteers, so I found out where it was and kindly asked Mama and Papa how to get there. The jeepney system is easy to use once you figure it out and know which jeepneys to take where, but unfortunately, there is not a map that shows the routes of each jeepney, like there is for buses in the States. So figuring out how to get where you’re going can sometimes be a chore. They gave me excellent directions, but on the way to the changing point, it started to downpour and I thought maybe it’s a better idea to hang out in the mall instead, so that I can avoid trying to walk and find a place that I don’t quite know where it is in the pouring rain. I got to the mall, and since I didn’t eat lunch yet, but wasn’t really THAT hungry, decided that a nice American snack would do the trick, so I enjoyed some M&Ms. They were delicious, but they were made in Malaysia, which makes them not quite the same M&Ms as I would have at home. They’re definitely a treat though. By then, it had stopped raining, and I decided that if I don’t go today, I won’t have a chance until at least next week, and since I may go snorkeling this weekend, I want the gear. I grabbed a jeepney and got off on the end of the street that I needed to be, hoping to get some exercise by walking and knowing that I would have to pass it sometime. I was paying attention to the address numbers as I walked, even though they were posted sporadically. I figured, how could I miss it? Well, I got to a point where the road forked, and I didn’t quite know which way to go. I asked a security guard and a nice gentleman for directions, and they didn’t know where the place was, but they did know that this was technically the end of that street, which means that I had missed it somewhere. Luckily enough, barangay hall was kitty-corner, so they directed me to go there and ask. I went in and got directions to head back the way I came from, but to try the other side of the street. After walking a little ways, I got another one of those “Good afternoon, ma’am”s that I always get and usually ignore or answer with a sly “Maayong hapon” just to show them that I do actually care about learning their language, because most foreigners here do not. Instead of ignoring this one, though, I decided that I would ask this gentleman (who was a security guard) if I was going in the right direction. He said of course and gave me more specific directions. So I went off on my way and bam! Found it. I was pretty darn proud of myself, to be honest, having conducted all conversations in Cebuano and finding the place on my own. Man I love travelling and learning a new language.

The visit proved to be successful because I took advantage of the huge discount and got a pretty good mask, snorkel, and fin set for about $40 (US), which is a pretty darn good deal. Afterwards, I walked around a little bit exploring and then headed back to the mall, because I had a whole list of things to look for (I was given money for my birthday, and plus I am planning on cooking my family a Thanksgiving dinner this Thursday, so I had a hella lotta grocery shopping to do). I felt pretty darn successful because I found a pretty good webcam for about $18 (US) and then a nice weekend-size duffel bag for about $12.50 (US). The one that was really pretty with a nice tropical flower print (because of course aesthetics are important while travelling) was about $20, but me being pretty thrifty, sprung for the more basic yet stylish orange duffel with nice side pockets. These are crucial for holding a water bottle, dirty flip-flops, or a wet swimsuit. Overall, it was a great purchase. I met my sister at the mall, and we were about to have some bonding time! Well, I met her before I found the duffel, so she got to help me pick one out, and I’m sure she realized that when I am faced with a million options, I can’t make any decision at all. But she was great…and very patient!

Then, we hit the grocery store to buy ingredients for what will be hopefully the most expensive meal I will have here. Without really thinking about how much American food really costs, I spent the equivalent of my monthly food salary that I pay my host family. Good thing it’s only once a year! I’m planning on cooking my traditional Thanksgiving meal—spinach lasagna, steamed asparagus with garlic, garlic bread, and “chicken surprise” with rice (not technically part of my traditional Thanksgiving, but I can’t make dinner here and not have meat…and chicken surprise was the best thing I could think of!). Side note: Chicken surprise is a special treat that one of my good friends from Ireland and roommates in college, Lauren…her boyfriend, Joe, used to cook for us occasionally. Wow, that’s much easier to explain in Cebuano. Translated it would be: “Cooked the boyfriend of Lauren, my friend from college and Ireland”. I remember it being so delicious, and I always wanted to figure out how to make it, and now’s my chance! We shopped, and shopped, and shopped. Finally, it was decided that crescent rolls would need to be substituted with biscuit mix, and ricotta cheese will be substituted with cottage cheese. Roasted sweet red peppers will be substituted with regular red peppers. It was also decided that Campbell’s soup here is ridiculously expensive—ringing in at over $2.00 per can! I think at home it’s like $0.65 or something like that? I could be totally wrong, and if I am, PLEASE leave me a comment on here. I can’t quite remember the price. And for boneless chicken, I will need to wait until Wednesday because the meat counter was all out, and there’s really no way to get boneless at the market. All said and done, it was a great shopping trip.

Afterwards, my sister and I decided to do some walking around (suroy-suroy), and we stopped and grabbed dinner. Have I told you how much I love having sisters? When I was a little kid, I used to beg my mom for a sister! Oh, how I thought it would be so much fun to be able to braid each other’s hair and watch movies and never be bored. Well, now my wish is answered! I have two sisters and I love it. We can sit and talk about anything and just hang out. It’s so much fun! When all is said and done, maybe it’s much better that my sisters came in this form—I’m absolutely sure that I appreciate them much more now than I would have at seven years old, when I’m sure I would have been complaining about my annoying younger sister who always wants to play Barbies and who keeps picking her nose. So mom, thanks for not giving me a sister—it turned out much better this way.

Potato Salad.

Mama served potato salad the other night at dinner, because she knows that Americans LOVE potatoes. First of all, it was delicious. Second of all, it was not your traditional potato salad. The ingredients included potatoes of course, carrots, cheese (Filipino cheese, which is definitely not good ol’ Wisconsin cheese...it's more like Velveeta, except white), pineapple chunks, raisins, and mayonnaise. It surprised me how good it was, or maybe I was just so excited to have potatoes?!?! Oh yes, and today when I was visiting someone at my work, I almost had to eat pigs’ blood. Thank goodness there were bananas also on the table, because that was a much better choice.

Peace Corps?

(From Monday, November 17, 2008)

This weekend left me pondering whether I am really in the Peace Corps or not. I finished last week successfully (I’m not quite sure what defines successful, but let’s just say I was) and was able to enjoy my Saturday night and Sunday off. Now, if I were at my training site where I was really rural and unable to get transportation anywhere (also where my family really did….nothing), I would have been in bed by 9 PM on Saturday night, would have tried to sleep in on Sunday morning, would have been woken up first by roosters at 5:30 and second by knocking on my door at 6:30 or 7:00 to come eat breakfast, would have gone to town with the others to escape and maginternet all day, and would have been in bed again by 9:00 and maybe even 8:30 since heck, it is a school night. This family and city is totally different – it’s modern! I absolutely love it. Saturday after returning from a meeting, I went with my sisters and one of their boyfriends to the mall for the HUGE sale of the season. It was a biggie, so the mall was open until midnight for all the shoppers. I could not believe how many people were there! It may have been worse than the day after Thanksgiving. We ate dinner (chicken and macaroni & cheese—mac & cheese! Yum!) and then headed to buy new shoes for one of the sisters and just to walk around.

There happened to be a health and wellness fair going on in the mall also, which was awesome because my sister had the idea to go around to all the booths and get free whatever-we-can-get. We all availed of the free hand massages, one sister took advantage of the reflexology, the boyfriend tried out one of those ab-muscle contractors that apparently makes your abs into a six-pack and you don’t have to do anything (!!!), we all played on the exercise equipment, and I got a free 15-minute massage. The massage was only supposed to be included if you purchased a package from that spa, but my sister is amazing and knew one of the people who worked there. She convinced them that I really needed to test out the massage before buying a package, and I think the fact that I spoke Visayan really helped me out. By that time, it may have been 10:00 but we were waiting for our brother to come meet us as well. When he got there, it turns out that he hadn’t eaten yet, so we had to go eat for a third time (oh yeah, the second time was trying out the strawberry yogurt pops at the health fair). This was fun, but I was definitely super tired by the end of the night, as in, could hardly stay awake. We didn’t leave the mall until 11:30, and there were still so many people there! We took a taxi home, and it was so cute how Mama woke up when we got home just to see what everyone bought. Aw, like a real family, cute!

Sunday morning, I woke up with a headache at 7 AM (oh yeah, I had a headache the night before from being so tired and from eye strain), and I got up to get some water and then went back to bed. The next thing I knew, I woke up at 10:30 or 11:00! Wow, I didn’t even think it was possible to sleep in here! I went into the kitchen, and all the other kids had just woken up too! How great—I don’t feel like a lazy bum any more. We ate a delicious brunch of Corn Flakes, spaghetti, bananas, French fries with cheddar powder, and chocolate cake. I mean, could there really be a better combination for brunch?

Early afternoon on Sunday, I met Angela at the mall for just some girl time and hanging out, because of course that’s what you do when you’re in the Peace Corps. We bought tickets for the girliest movie they had (which doesn’t say much because there were only four screens at this particular mall, and two of them were showing Bond anyways), and since we had a half an hour we went to get the biggest ice cream sundaes we could find, because that’s really what we needed (and by needed, I really mean wanted, but that’s neither here nor there). We shared a Brownie chocolate something-fantasticness sundae and a banana amazingness-something-or-other sundae. What could be better? Brings me back to my roots in the Dairy State. And plus, we don’t get much calcium here in the Philippines, so I could do nothing better for my body than to stock up on my calcium intake at the mall, every weekend. We saw the movie in a ridiculously large, overly air-conned theater and we realized why every person in the world thinks Americans are all rich and own big houses and drive nice cars. To make it worse, the previews that were shown before the movie were ridiculous and also represented Americans in such a bad way. One was about these two best friends who are planning weddings at the same time, and they turn on each other and apparently become the most evil, materialistic, prissy bridezillas ever. Now, if you’re reading this from home, you might know what movie this is—I’m not sure, it was the first time I had seen the preview, but it looked ridiculously bad. Someone would definitely have to pay me to see it. Anyways, I returned from the mall back to my family, and we had a nice night and watched Dirty Dancing together. During the movie, I also talked to both my mom and my dad, which always makes it a great Sunday.

Today, I returned to work where I was busy, busy, busy (I mean, I did take a nap after lunch and upload some pictures to Facebook). I finished out the day with three intense games of basketball, which left me slightly dizzy since it was freakin’ hot and humid out. I’m exhausted even just thinking about it! Lunch was interesting, since we spent about twenty minutes discussing the shape of my body and whether or not I could wear a black leotard in the performances that the staff and kids perform for our visitors and donors. I mean, it was slightly awkward since there were about twelve co-workers and the director there and everyone was discussing my body, but since it was determined that I have a Coke-bottle body (which is apparently desirable, as opposed to a water jug-body), I mean I guess it’s all good. So this means that I will in fact be wearing a black leotard, along with everyone else, at the next performance. I also need to learn the dance moves and get my rhythm down, so man, this might take at least a few months!

Next weekend I’m looking forward to doing an overnight leadership training with the social worker and about twenty-five kids from my center. We’re staying on the beach! It’ll be sweet…and the weekend after is obviously Thanksgiving which indeed must be celebrated by going to a beautiful island, possibly killing a turkey, and definitely having a beer or two. I really can’t believe how fast time is flying by here. I was just talking to my mom about coming to visit in April, and that is only five months away! It’s crazy, and Christmas season will probably fly by.

The Market.

This morning I woke up at an early hour (okay, not so early) to head to the market with the house parents at our center. I was told to be there at seven, as that’s the time that we go every Thursday. I arrived but didn’t see any truck around to take us, nor did I see any of the other house parents (there are twelve). So I went to visit my supervisor in her apartment, where I left my bag because apparently it will FOR SURE get taken if I carry it anywhere in public. So anyways, around 7:20 or 7:30, the truck returns from taking the kids to school. I gather with almost all of the Nanays in the back of the truck, but we’re missing three. There is a lot of talking, and I’m trying to understand where the others are. Apparently one had a fever, so she’s not coming, and one is on vacation. Alright, so now that we know, we should be able to go, right? Well, then another Nanay comes to get one of the Nanays, and they walk towards one of the houses. After a few minutes, she returns but then leaves again. For about ten minutes, the two Nanays are swinging on the swingset that is set up outside of their house. I’m not really knowing what’s going on at this point, but I’m definitely confused about why it’s 8:00 and we haven’t left yet. I mean, actually I’m not confused because I’m in the Philippines and that’s just how things work sometimes, but now I’m wondering if tomorrow I should actually show up at six when I was told to or if I should sleep an extra hour and go in at seven? Hmm.

Ironically, today was the day that we did all of the purchasing of meat and fish for the week—I find this ironic because these are the two things that I really don’t eat. For some reason, though, witnessing the chopping up of more dead animals than I’ve ever seen helped to increase my tolerance towards such things. By such things, I mean small bits of guts splashing on me, watching people pick out which pig’s head looks best, walking through the fish remnants, etc. I mean, it’s all good. The most disgusting part to watch was definitely the sausage-making process. It looks as gross as it sounds. The bucket of yet-to-be-cleaned-out intestines, which will be used for the sausage, stunk more than anything else in the market.

I meant to finish this post and elaborate more, but really…I think you get the gist. Lessons learned: don’t watch the preparation of sausage if you ever want to eat it again.

Processing.

This morning, my goal was to observe within the Kindergarten classes at my center and get a feel for the teaching styles, the behavior of the children, and the overall atmosphere. I used to want to be a teacher, when I was younger. It was right up there with wanting to be the first woman in the NFL or a pilot for the Air Force. Then, I decided I could never be a teacher (I mean, I totally admire all of the amazing teachers in this world and I have some great friends who are teachers [shout out], but I just could not do it!). Then, I came to the decision that if I taught, it would have to be college…or Kindergarten. I mean, I have a lot of energy so Kindergarten would be perfect, right? After today, I take that back. Well, they are so darn cute that I would not actually get any teaching done…ever. And by cute I mean…hyper. Well, they’re cute at the same time. But put 35 of them in one room, and it’s pretty overwhelming. Anyways, I will be helping out in the program somewhat starting in the next few weeks and I’m not quite sure what my purpose or the final goal is, but we’ll figure it out. My job is pretty vague at the moment—so far, the majority of it includes taking naps, maginterneting, and attending meetings where I realize my lack of Cebuano knowledge.

This afternoon, I went with the social worker from our outreach program to attend some of the feedings that happen twice-weekly in seven different locations throughout the barangay. The goal of the program is to prevent the need to separate children from their parents, or basically to prevent abandonment by parents—to strengthen families. The program is about a year old, and it is only meant to be a temporary program. (Side note: basically all social work programs are intended to be temporary…the goal of a social worker is to basically work themselves out of a job). Well, since one of the main reasons of abandonment is simply being unable to feed and take care of the children, the two main activities right now are feedings and livelihood programs. While the livelihood programs are just getting started, the feedings are a regular occurrence now, and the mothers’ groups for the most part have regular meetings.

Well, anyways, for some reason this was really difficult emotionally today. We visited six different locations, and three of them are currently being affected by a new subdivision that is moving into the area. Almost all of the people that this program serves are squatters, and even since visiting these sites a little over a month ago, so much has changed. Areas where there were “houses” before (houses—picture bamboo and sugar cane walls with maybe a few pieces of plywood and a tin roof and dirt floor) are now completely leveled off. There was a volleyball court set up, but now it’s been overtaken by bulldozers. There are huge houses (large for American standards, even) standing right next to the squatters’ area. This area of the barangay was already built on a steep bank of the small, polluted river that runs through, and now they are sandwiched even further between a rock and a hard place. It is pretty steep to climb down into the small neighborhood, and the main entrance that we used last time is no longer passable due to the construction.

Moreover, each of these six sites that we visited are not far from each other (five are clumped together, and the other two are clumped together). By not far, I mean we walked about two minutes between each site. Even with how close the sites were, there are at least thirty children participating in each site (between the ages of 1 and 7). On average, these families have between five and seven children, and some have many more, as you can probably guess. I was talking to a woman who I assumed to be about my age (although with Filipinas, I can never tell…their skin is perfect!), and I asked her how many children she had. Well, she had five. Three of them were in the feeding program, which meant that they were between the ages of 1 and 7. At another site, I said hello to a young girl who I assumed was just an older sister of one of the children. When she started breast feeding, that assumption quickly changed. She might have been about 16. Granted, teen pregnancy happens in the US as well and although it’s definitely part of a cycle, I know that here that cycle will undoubtedly continue. Be born into poverty, grow up in poverty, spend childhood between school and house chores (less emphasis on school), get married around 18, if you’re a woman spend your time washing and cleaning and cooking and giving birth, if you’re a man spend your time between working and looking for steady work and creating babies…the cycle continues for the next five to seven children that are born into it, and for their children, and all the neighbors’ children, and the cousins’ children, etc. This sounds hopeless, and I’m sorry. I mean, there are plenty of solutions to these issues, but only the right combination will help. The obvious answer would be family planning, but what’s obvious to me isn’t quite so obvious to those actually living this life. And the rich people are going to continue to exploit the poor people no matter what. When it comes time for the subdivision to claim all of the land that it owns, where will they go? Who will take them? Where can they afford to go?

Of course, in the next two years my plan is to solve this issue of poverty and the increasing population. Wanna help?

I sort of miss my...

Roosters. I’m really torn about this issue. First of all, I absolutely love this new family. If any of you received supplemental emails or phone discussions about my last family, you understand a little bit why anything would be such an improvement. But since I wasn’t able to get into that in detail, I’ll just say that this family is great. Last night, we all just hung out and watched some great Filipino I Love Betty La Fea (the Filipino version of Ugly Betty) and Pinoy Fear Factor, which takes place in Argentina. This I don’t really understand because at the time of filming, Argentina was cold…so they have all the participants (who are chosen because they are babe-a-licious and airheaded, and for no other reason, I’m pretty sure) bundled up in winter coats. When it’s time to do the dares or whatever they call them, they get to disrobe into their bikinis or speedo shorts that barely cover anything. I mean, I understand why, but it’s sort of ridiculous. Anyways, that was a side tangent. I miss my roosters.

The real issue here is that there is no cockadoodledoo to wake me up. While I was often annoyed at my last house, where the neighbors raised tons of chickens for cockfighting, the roosters kept me “regular” if you will. Even if I wanted to sleep in, they would wake me up at the crack of 5:40. Whether I wanted to be or not, I had to be wide awake. It gave me plenty of time to get ready in the morning and study and do whatever I needed to do. Now, however, my alarm goes off at 6:15 (which, I should know, is during a main REM cycle for me and always has been, so it’s just a bad time for my alarm anyways), and I hit snooze until 6:35, when I accidentally shut my alarm off. Then, I reset my alarm for 7:00, and I hit snooze just once and finally get out of bed at 7:10. Yikes. This might have to change. I think I’m going to go to the market this weekend and get me a rooster. Better yet, I’ll just buy one that’s tied up alongside the road on my way to work.