My life seems pretty cool, I just realized.

Playing Scrabble with my host brother.

I got walked home last night via torch. It gets pretty dark in my neck of the woods.

(Learning moment: dark is "ngitngit" in Cebuano...definitely the most difficult Cebuano word to pronounce).

Many of these are from the recent street dancing in celebration of the Buglasan Festival, uniting all of the municipalities of the Negros Oriental province. It was some amazing dancing - and as you can see, amazing costumes.

These pictures are from our camp day - camp day in paradise. The kids LOVED it!

A display of pumpkins as a chandelier. Beautiful.

Tinikling.

FINALLY! I was able to upload our tinikling video...enjoy!

Success.

Let me tell you what I’ve succeeded in lately:

§ I’ve successfully managed to neglect my blog for over a week and a half! All my apologies…but I have been busy!

§ Our camp day last week was definitely a success, and that is what many of the pictures were from below. We took a group of about sixty kids from three different centers out to the middle of the wilderness, surrounded by waterfalls (several!), jungle, palm trees, and just plain simple beauty. The kids absolutely loved it, even though it felt like we really did nothing to help organize or plan the day. But we sure had fun…and it was a LONG day that involved leading kids over a rickety old bridge, hiking to the top (ish) of a mountain, doing a river walk, swimming, etc. It was a blast, and I was also successful in getting an amazing sun burn. I guess I have gotten lax about applying sunscreen! Oh yes, and I was also successful in being in bed by 7:13 last Saturday night. Oh, the madness.

§ Another success this week has been conducting a staff training for the staff of four different centers entitled, “Life Skills: Importance and Facilitation”. Now don’t go thinking we’re all amazing or anything. Really, there were four of us conducting the training and only twelve participants, and it only lasted two hours. Oh yeah, and I don’t really know if they got anything out of it! We hope so though, but that will remain to be seen. I think the concept of life skills is definitely known to be important and crucial to a child’s well-being, but there seems to be a mental block or apprehension as to how to actually implement and facilitate life skills activities. All in all, though, we were successful.

§ We were also successful at completing our community project! Yes, that’s right—we finished the clothing drive and were able to give ALL the kids something on the day of their life skills activities. That was the main part of our project—our life skills day. We focused on teamwork, conflict management, relationships, and values, and all our activities went so well. I worked on teamwork activities, and the second activity I used involved having one child lay on the ground and having the others lift him up and carry him to another location. In order to do this, each member of the group was responsible for a different part of the body (legs, shoulders, arms, head, feet, etc.). Everything went so great—well, except one kid did end up balling right in the middle of my activity—yeah, I don’t really know, but I would still consider it overall a success. The funny thing is that most of these “trust” or “adventure” activities that I often facilitate, I really haven’t done them much myself. As my cluster mates have pointed out (fairly and objectively), I really have an issue with trusting people. Well, that’s definitely the truth, and it’s a bit ironic that I lead these “trust” activities but have a hard time doing them myself. Take trust falls for example. Anytime I am in a position to do a trust fall (like the mini ones, with only one partner), I freak out and always put my foot back as support, which is exactly what one is not supposed to do. Anyways, the point of this ridiculously unorganized story is that I was successful in doing a trust activity! The last group that I had for my teamwork groups convinced me to try it, so yes—I was lifted by about 9 young boys and carried about 50 feet, with no trust problems whatsoever! Pshh…trust issues. So therefore, I was successful.

§ We were also successful in wrapping up our technical training this week. No more tech training! We do have one more week of language training, though, which is definitely needed considering this week I was VERY successful in discovering my lack of the Cebuano language. We have our Language Proficiency Interviews next week, and so this week we did a mock interview with our LCF. My problem is that I can speak the language alright, but as far as understanding what other people are saying, I have no clue. I might even understand every word in the sentence but still have no clue what the sentence means. There are a million affixes and focuses that the Cebuano language uses (kind of like tenses in English…but actually, totally different), but most of the time, I’m left wondering, “So who’s doing what to whom? When did this happen? Where? And with what instrument? And this is past tense or present…or future? What are we talking about?” It’s so darn confusing. I am definitely in the future going to become VERY successful at learning the language, darn it.

§ This morning I was successful at finally beginning some sort of exercise program here in the Philippines. Even though I am usually hard-core about staying in shape and going to the gym (and YES, okay, I do eat tons of junk food, but hey—who are you to judge? Haha) at home, here I’ve definitely slacked. This could be because of the medium amount of walking we do daily from our homes to our training sites anyways, or it may have more to do with the stifling heat and the ridiculous humidity, or it could be the smoky air and the reactions of my asthma, or it could be the lack of any great space to “exercise” in private, or it could be all of the above. Hm. Well, this morning, I woke up and definitely decided that it was finally time for some exercise. I’ve been trying to do some of my yoga exercises, but I’m really bad at leading my own workout (I usually have workout ADD and get distracted). So today I dug out my pilates DVD! Thank you, Denise Austin, for putting joy and rock-hard core muscles into my life. I owe you big time. I’ve never sweated so much in my life, I’m pretty sure. I only have one outlet in my room (and by one outlet, I mean only ONE outlet….not a set of two outlets), so it was necessary to have the computer plugged in and the fan unplugged. This equals large amounts of dripping sweat. Not that you have any desire to hear about it whatsoever, but I just thought I’d share. Another reason today has been successful (and why I L.O.V.E. Sundays, which is our rest day) is that I was able to rid myself of my man-legs, thanks to a nice cheap Bic razor and the fact that I showered during the day, which meant it wasn’t too cold to actually stand there and somewhat shave my legs. SOOOO amazing Sundays are. AND soon I will be successful in eating an amazing lunch of Mexican food. Have I mentioned how I love Sundays?

§ I guess I have also been successful in posting this blog.

§ And I have also become successful in missing autumn at home. Sad.

Pictures...

Enjoying paradise...

This is our cluster...yes, this was during a day of "technical training". We work hard.

Do I look lonely?

And then we like to cross rickety bridges.

Scary!!??!!

Rachael and I enjoying a night out

A typical day at language class....Edward, our teacher.

Angela and I with our "to-go" coffees...look at the cute little bags!

Results of our clothing drive! Look at all those boxes....

You know....everyday life.

Weird Happenings.

(From Tuesday, October 14, 2008)

Since I’ve returned to my training site three days ago, it has become clear to me that a full moon was approaching. The number of weird things that have happened have far exceeded any other three day period in my life…I think. I mean, there’s no way to be sure. But it’s just been a bit odd.

Let’s start with my experience on Saturday of travelling back. My group took a four hour bus ride in the morning, without air con because it is much cheaper. After the bus ride, we took a short 20-minute ferry, and then we had a very bumpy 30-minute drive in the back of a truck to our respective homes. After a long trip, all I wanted to do was hit the bathroom and then lay in my bed in front of the electric fan and pass out (due to both the long trip and a late night on Friday night). As soon as I arrived home, my nanay decides that it is definitely the best time to clean my room and change my bedding. Granted, I am very grateful that she has such a desire to do so, but my top priority was to get some good rest. Of course I am never allowed to help clean my own room (or do my own laundry or clean my own dishes or cook my own food, for that matter), so I decide that it’s a great time to relieve myself in the bathroom (hey, it was a long trip). If this were a sitcom, we would cue an extra to purposefully occupy the bathroom for a longer than necessary amount of time so that the main character must wait and painfully exercise abdominal muscles that she didn’t know she had (also cue audience laughter and ridiculous Seinfeld conversation). After both the bathroom goal and the room-cleaning/bedding-changing goals are completed, I decide that I’m way too sweaty to nap at all, and I take a quick Filipino-style bucket bath to cool down, minus soap of course. Who needs soap? Anyways, that’s neither here nor there.

I crash for about three hours until I hear a knock on my door—“Lyeeennnnn. Lyeeennnnn.” I answer, obviously groggy, “Oo?” [“Yes?}. Opening the door, I see the family is ready to go somewhere—they ask, “Oh, you will not come with us?”. This would not be an out of the ordinary question had I had any clue that we were going anywhere that evening, but my only answer was a very surprised, “Sa asa?” [“To where?”] “We will go to my nephew’s to eat.” “For pyesta?” “No, just to visit.” “Sige, I will change.” I quickly changed and must have looked like a total bum in my messy hair, black plastic eyeglasses, flip-flops, and saggy-butt khakis without a belt (saggy-butt syndrome is a direct result from hand-washing clothes). We arrive at the nephew’s house, where they apparently aren’t celebrating pyesta but they obviously are, and I start to feel dizzy. We walk up the stairs and take our seats, and although we are on an upstairs porch, there is no breeze and the mixed smells of the foods are nauseating. My body is trying to adjust from two weeks in almost constant air con to hot, hot climate again. The incense that is burning underneath my chair is floating directly into my nose. At this point, the family decides it’s time for an intervention. About ten people are all nodding as one person says, “Lyeeennn. We are very worried. You are looking too skinny. Almost sick. You have not been eating. Too skinny.” Is this really an intervention? Do they not see the pounds of food that I am forced to eat at every meal because I am told that I do not eat enough? (In reality, I eat plenty…way more than in America). Anyways, at this point, I just laugh and say, “Nooo…I’m still fat.” Not that I think I’m fat, but Filipinos throw the word “fat” around all too often, so I thought I would make a joke. Apparently, it was not the funniest. Anyways, dinner is being served and I am expected to eat first, of course being the American. I stand up and feel myself getting dizzier. The sweat starts. I sit back down, trying to fan myself and cool off—setting my water bottle behind me, it falls and knocks the burning incense over on the wooden porch. No biggie, except that I look like an idiot…maybe. Well, not yet. Since I don’t feel great, it is suggested that I eat, since that solves every sickness here. My aunt happily gets me some spaghetti, since I’m in no condition to stand and get my own food. As I eat the first bite, I am feeling worse and worse. Running down the stairs, I find a place for my plate and throw up all over the backyard. Yes, that’s me—the American who is puking downstairs while everyone watches. How kind of embarrassing. Well, that stopped the forced eating for the night. I gladly enjoyed water to re-hydrate myself and a 7-Up to calm the stomach. I definitely enjoyed twelve hours of sleep that night after returning home. The only thing that could have been better about that sleep is if I would have had a rehydrating IV directly into a vein, but I won’t be needy.

Since I’m on the skinny intervention topic, I am going to discuss a part of Filipino culture that is much more straightforward than they let on. It is said that Filipinos tend to avoid conflict at all costs and they often use a third-party to resolve any personal disputes that may arise. Filipinos are told that Americans are much more direct in their communication, which we are. There is, however, one situation where this rule is thrown out the window, for both cultures. It involves discussing the personal appearance of a person. You know how, in America, it is considered rude to tell a woman she is fat, or even ask her age? Well, if weight is an issue, they let you know (hence my apparent “skinniness” or the fact that someone I know is often called “tambok” fat). Obviously, often female PCVs have difficulty adjusting to this cultural difference, expectedly, since I have heard a few stories of other volunteers experiencing the, “If you eat less, you will become skinny, and then you will find a husband” talk. It doesn’t only stop at weight, though. Today, a boy at my training center said to me, “Ate Lynn, you have many pimples?” I said, “Usa ra….[Only one]”. He says, “Very oily.” I reply, “Oo, it is very hot here.” Can I just say, it wasn’t even a big pimple???

Another odd thing that has happened in the last three days is that I found out my “student helper” who lives with my family has apparently run off with her boyfriend. She was my favorite! This makes me so sad…especially since I was not even aware that she had a boyfriend. A while ago, we had the conversation about boyfriends, and she told me that after graduating, she hoped to work for awhile and not get married until later. Well, since she has a boyfriend now, that means she will definitely be getting married soon (those are Filipino expectations, seriously). And I don’t think she’ll be returning to school, even though she has only one semester remaining before graduating high school. So sad.

Tonight I was able to attend a birthday party, where two more odd events occurred. I spent about an hour being groped by a woman who was so happy to be “in touch” with her first American (a direct quote). I mean, it’s fine…she kept telling me how beautiful I am, and that’s just how the culture works sometimes (they’re touchy), but it was a bit uncomfortable, considering I’m not a very touchy person. I’m learning a lot of patience! There were about fifty people at this birthday party (a girl was turning 4). Of course, there was a giant cake. When the cake was cut, who do you think got the first piece? Well, if you guessed me, give yourself a pat on the back…because yes, the special American gets served first. I mean, don’t get me wrong, the cake was delicious—but I could definitely go with less special attention at these public events!

Anyways, this posting may seem a bit cynical, but I hope it doesn’t come across that way! Cultural differences are totally eye-opening and somewhat frustrating. The best way I’ve learned to deal with that small frustration is to just laugh about it and go with the flow. And that’s what I’m doing. Yes, puking all over at pyesta is slightly embarrassing, but heck, it makes for a great story. Getting told I have a lot of pimples? I mean, yeah it’s not exactly what I want to hear, but it has a catchy ring to it. And getting my hand held in every public location just in case I get lost, I mean….sometimes it’s obnoxious, but they mean well. I just gotta love it and take it in stride.

Reactions.

Last night we worked with a prostitution outreach and drop-in center, shadowing their social workers as they did their work in the streets and in bars. The social workers go out every night to talk with women in the prostitution business (and it is many women, thanks to the desperate measures of poverty and also the sex tourism industry here), to encourage them to stop by the center, and to hand out condoms. Can I just say, thank goodness that someone has enough sense give out condoms? It’s almost like a foreign concept here, thanks to the Catholic Church. And this is no strike to the Catholic Church at home, but the presence of the Church here is very different—visit and then you’ll understand. The women we met ranged in age from 15 to 60 years old, and they looked like just typical women walking down the street. We went to a bar as well, where women were paid to dance and also to entertain customers (there were rooms upstairs and men could also take women out). Although they are supposed to be eighteen to work there, some were as young as fifteen and sixteen. The woman I talked to had a one-year-old baby at home, and that’s why she is doing this work. She was nineteen years old, and her baby is her life (someone to love and someone to love you back). She said that the best customers are the old guys, because they are the ones who have the money. There is also a lot of debt bondage that goes on for women who work in the bars. Women are expected to work every night, and if they miss a night, they are penalized with a 10,000 php fine. To put this into perspective, Peace Corps volunteers receive an 11,000 php monthly stipend once they are on their own. It’s a lot of money. Since women can’t pay off a fine, they must continue to work to pay it off, making it pretty impossible to ever be free from the profession. On the streets, the going rate for a woman is 150 php (the equivalent to a little over $3). In addition, women usually “sell” their customers a condom for 50 php extra, to make a little bank. And 50 php of this automatically goes to the pimp. If the women sell the condom, that means they make about 150 php per customer—if they don’t sell a condom, they make about 100 php per customer (about $2.25). They might have anywhere between two and ten customers in one night.

We were talking to some women on the street (freelancers), and the social worker asked why they were so few—where were the other women that were normally there? The answer of the women surprised me—their friends were “chop-chopped”. They were murdered by customers. In almost the same breath, the women then asked us to pray that they were able to get a lot of customers that night. Of course, no one was ever caught or even looked for from these murders, because in the eyes of society it’s just one disposable person. I thought it was alarmingly ironic that directly after discussing the murders of their friends (by customers, mind you), they were hoping and praying for many customers. We are supposed to pray for their economic survival through being able to have many customers, but yet it is a valid threat that they may not even survive.

I was having so many reactions last night after this experience, and they are really impossible to even summarize or put into words. My main reaction was of anger. I am really angry at the system and the world. Why does our world make it okay for these men to completely objectify women and look at them solely as a vagina? Why is this okay? Women have personalities and hearts and feelings—they are not simply a body to oogle at. It’s a weird mix of oppression and empowerment. These women are so oppressed (and one could argue that all women feel this oppression, whether in prostitution or not), but they convince themselves that they are “empowered”. They convince themselves that it’s their choice to enter into this work in order to make a better life for their families. When the world creates only one choice for these women to earn decent money, is it really an empowered choice that they’re making? I guess there was more than anger, since I don’t want to leave you walking away feeling hopeless. There was also hope—these women have hope that what they are doing is really helping, is really making a difference for their families, is really going to help them move up in the world. And, maybe it will. It must be making some difference and at least sustaining them.

I know it is impossible to even create any sort of vivid picture via blog for you to imagine these situations, and I hope this helped to let you know what I’ve been up to. This week’s been such an emotional rollercoaster. After getting home last night, I really just needed a good cry about the world. But, fortunately, there are many beautiful things here as well. These women are beautiful, and the sacrifices they are making for their families is beautiful, because no one can say that they actually like this work or enjoy it. It’s just something that they need to do, whether others understand or not.

Street Education

Today our group had the chance to participate in street education activities conducted by a local NGO, whose main purpose is to reach out to the street children in the area, most of whom are unable to attend any sort of formal school. There are a few different kinds of street children here (and all over the place)—those that live in the streets with their families, those that work on the streets (but have a home to go to at night or every now and then), and those of the streets (who grew up there, not knowing necessarily who their parents are). There are many things these children do to sustain themselves and make a living, including selling newspapers, shining shoes, selling peanuts or other snacks, or carrying packages for people, for example. Most of the time, though, money is not enough and the children spend their money on rugby—a glue used for sniffing, which causes a high and also delays any sort of hunger pains. Kids can sniff rugby and ideally they won’t be hungry until the next day because of the damage it does to their body. It’s not uncommon, especially in the city, to see the kids with small plastic bags of rugby held to their noses—and when you look around, these bags may be surrounding your feet as well. Contrary to what I learned in D.A.R.E., these are definitely not bad kids. They are learning survival through their real lives, and rugby takes care of their immediate needs. As you can imagine, it’s extremely addictive and just like any other drug on the market, it keeps people in poverty. The money that these children can use for food that may be nutritious or will at least fill up their tummies, usually goes towards the longer-term satisfaction.

Anyways, the children that we did street education with were between the ages of four and six, and they were from different areas of the city. The program has two large buses that circulate to pick up the children and bring them to a central location. What was cool was that some of the mothers were even there waiting with their children for the bus—usually it is the children that are much more excited to learn than their mothers are to send them to school (because they could be earning money for the family instead). Basically, most of the education consisted of play, which is definitely a great way to teach. How much are these children actually learning? Honestly, it’s pretty hard to tell. Their attention spans, as you can imagine, are not great. What I was surprised about, though, was their conflict management techniques. When one of these children became angry or annoyed or simply wanted to get someone’s attention, they would hit another child, push them over, or even pull their hair. I’ve never seen so much kid-on-kid violence from children so young. I even saw one kid push another over—the kid hit the ground and smacked his forehead on the pavement, leaving an immediate red mark and a giant goose egg about five minutes later. The child sat up and smiled. These children definitely know survival, and if that’s how they survive in the streets, that’s how they survive in the “school” setting as well. It was definitely interesting!

Observation.

Today we travelled around to some of the poorest parts of the city. It’s nothing that I haven’t seen before—basically, absolute poverty accompanied by horrific smells from unidentified sources, infinite litter, and open sewers that children run and play in. These are both horrible travesties and also only inconveniences. Perspective is the key. What one usually notices most when they go to these areas is that the poverty is also accompanied by smiling faces, the sounds of singing, and children playing. Not that this makes up for any of the injustices that the world has placed on these people, but it reminds the visitor or the observer that resiliency is actually a beautiful trait that belongs to the human race. Merriam-Webster defines resiliency as, “an ability to recover from or adjust easily to misfortune or change”. People living in poverty all over the world know the true meaning of resiliency. Yes, bad things have happened to me and I have found myself in sad or unfortunate situations, but the poor people of the world know what it’s like to have to be resilient on a daily basis. They do it for themselves and their families.

Now I’m sure if I asked any of these people if they preferred to have more money, a better life, or a stable place to live, of course they would say yes. Then again, most Americans who have comfortable lifestyles and plenty of money and resources would also say that they wished for more. Where is the right place to stop? I’m sure that there is no clear-cut answer to this question, but it’s something to think about. Is it wrong to enjoy one’s own hard work and the material benefits that are reaped? In my opinion, no there is nothing wrong with this. I remember the first time I returned from Guatemala. I was almost overcome from this incredible feeling of guilt—so much so that I really wanted to change everything about my lifestyle. Lately in my life, though, I have learned that there has to be a balance (IYFDers know all about “balance”, haha) between feelings of deep empathy, feelings of guilt about our own lifestyle, and our own abilities to function in working with people to alleviate these issues of the world. I’ve learned that if I bring myself to feel guilty about owning an iPod, having a savings account that doesn’t get donated to charity, or simply being raised in America, that I will get nowhere very quickly. Many people prefer to live their lives not acknowledging that this level of poverty exists in the world, because usually it comes with the realization or the belief that we are all a part of it, no matter how much we try. Now before this blog posting becomes a sermon (because that is not what I want it to be), let’s just say that today has caused me to think a lot about my purpose and how much I will really be able to accomplish here. This again depends on perspective. On the macro level, I’m a mere dot that may have an effect on some of the dots around me, but it really won’t make a difference in the whole picture. On the micro level, though, I may be able to have a huge impact on the children I work with. Not only this, but they will have a bigger impact on my life than they can ever realize.

Wow, this is a serious blog. Don’t worry, I am still chipper and happy Lynn!

Pictures.

Just beautiful us.

Visiting the Taoist Temple.

One of my new co-workers. We're doing the typical Filipino pose, of course.

My new supervisor and I, looking really excited to work together!

Long day calls for a long nap.

Orphaned.

It was another great day of site visit. I spent some of the time doing courtesy calls, but really, most of the day was spent becoming an orphaned Peace Corps Volunteer and just hanging out with my supervisor and new family. I think it will be confusing from here on out, because I will have my new family (that I don’t have yet, but more on that later) and my new “family”, which consists of all of my co-workers and all 140 children. It really is a family.

So, how did I become orphaned, you ask? Well, I think I have moved my bags about five times so far. Let’s count.
1. From vehicle coming from airport to guest house (to stay in for a while on Wednesday, because my family was not “ready” for me yet)
2. From guest house to vehicle Wednesday night, to go to host family
3. After arriving at host family and not having a mosquito net (and family was not quite ready for me….and host agency counterparts had a sketch feeling about it), from host family back to guest house – leaving one bag because it will stay here permanently
4. Thursday morning, from guest house to vehicle to go to host family for breakfast…but host family did not arrive at agreed-upon time, so I ate breakfast with supervisor and family
5. Decisions were made mutually by host family, agency, and myself that I would stay in guest house during site visit, so we had to fetch the bag that was at host family
6. From vehicle to guest house

Alas, that was six times I had to move my stuff! Finally, though, I am staying in the same place for a few days. I do not yet have a family, but I really trust that they will find me a good one that is willing to take on the responsibility of a volunteer. Let’s be honest, it is a pretty big responsibility to house a volunteer (who needs their own room) and feed them meals. Anyways, so I’m currently orphaned but it’s a welcomed change being on my own.

Many courtesy calls were made today—to the barangay captain and the rest of the council, to the high school where our children attend, to the elementary school (but the principal was gone on seminar), and to the rural health unit, which I’m so excited to work with. There were so many pregnant women there who looked like they were about 18! But I think this might be simply because being Filipina automatically takes about 10 years off the age you appear to be. For example, a woman could be 50 but actually look 35. Or many women are about 40 but appear to be 28. And then there are the men who appear to be 25 but are actually 35. But then there is also the opposite, such as the boys who look 25 but are actually 17. It is my firm belief that it is truly impossible to tell a person’s age here. But I guess this is beside the point. Courtesy calls were successful. The most interesting part of the day was the meryenda we had at the high school (meryenda…scheduled snack that happens during the morning and the afternoon…if someone misses their meryenda, watch out). I have heard many Filipinos claim that a meal is not a meal without rice. For example, both spaghetti and pizza are considered snacks by most people here. They would be served as a birthday treat or during a meryenda, since there is no rice. Often, spaghetti is served with rice during a meal, just in case you are really trying to get away from the Atkins diet trend. Our meryenda today consisted of an entire meal from Jollibee (the Filipino McDonald’s, basically). Each person was served a giant grilled chicken sandwich, large fries, and a soft drink. On top of this, there was bottled water, which doesn’t exactly add to the calorie count but definitely adds to the quantity of items served. Wow.

The rest of the day was spent hanging out with co-workers and the family. I finally got to watch some Filipino television (at my host family’s house, the TV is in their bedroom…usually with the door closed, so I am never allowed the television watching) and see what “regular” Filipinos do. They hang out, watch TV, joke around, chika-chika, etc. My face has hurt so much the last two days from smiling and laughing—usually I cannot understand the Cebuano jokes, but I end up laughing anyways. They LOVE to joke around, which I am totally excited about. The best part about hanging out with them is that I don’t even feel like a guest in their home. They are completely hospitable, but they are not overbearing or overly helpful or anything, which is a great feeling after a month and a half of being a “guest” in someone’s home.

The last few days have also been a transition as well. It’s been a transition from training-training-training to, “Wow, this is what it’s going to be like. I’m really meant to be here. This is the perfect place for me.” It’s such a good feeling. Don’t get me wrong—I am absolutely sure that sometime over the next two years (many times, if I am a sane and normal Peace Corps Volunteer), I will be saying, “What am I doing here? Is this really what I want to do? I could just go get a well-paying job and it’d be so much easier….Ahhh!” So, basically you can’t call me out on it when the time happens because I’m predicting it at the moment. But it’s been a transition time for everyone. There’s been some mad-texting going on (meaning frequent, not angry), and experiences are vastly different. Everywhere from being given a bucket to pee in at night by a host family, to having an overbearing and over-controlling supervisor, to being placed at a center run completely by nuns (with an interesting host family to boot), to finding that our expectations are quite different from our realities even if we’ve been at that site for much of training, we’re all having much different experiences. It’s confusing to feel some guiltiness simply because I have a great site, but I think the thing is that I wish the same for my fellow volunteers. We are all here for an amazing experience and to make the best out of what we are given. We are all here to make a positive impact on the communities are around us, and to completely change ourselves or to become stronger reflections of who we once where. The days and twenty-four months ahead of us will be taxing on our physical, emotional, and mental health, but I am looking forward to every moment.

I Heart my Site.

(from Wednesday, October 1)

There were a ton of emotions leading up to my site visit today, and I guess they are all right, Peace Corps is a rollercoaster. I was so nervous to meet my new co-workers and see my new workplace for the next two years. On top of it all, I gained a horrific cold while doing Supervisor’s Training, so my nose is either stuffed up beyond belief or is uncontrollably dripping fluids at any given moment. I will not complain, though, because this cold is the direct result of spending three days in a beautiful, air-conned hotel. I actually found myself regretting not packing a sweater. And this has nothing to do with my cold, but the food was amazing-amazing (In Cebuano, if you want to really emphasize a word, you can say it twice).

So back to my site visit…my supervisor and I flew to my new city and were picked up immediately at the airport by the director of the program, amongst others. We were nicely whisked to my new center (for the next two years) to eat lunch and to have an orientation. During my orientation, I was able to meet other staff members and discuss Peace Corps’ requirements of a host agency. We also watched a video about the organization—so amazing. Then, I took a tour of all the homes. This place is so great. They operate on a family-based model, so instead of having a ton of children within one center, they have families set up with individual homes. These families are heading by Nanays (mothers) who have dedicated their lives to this work. Basically, instead of having house parents that rotate in and out of a center every 24 hours, these women become the children’s actual mothers—for life. Each family has between nine and eleven children, and they never split up siblings.

After resting a bit, I went to see the youth home that the organization also runs. This is for teenage boys who are busy transitioning to independent living—basically, for high school and college boys. They are almost done with the basketball court, so I can’t wait to show off my mad skills. We then attended a ceremony celebrating the Month of the Rosary (October, which is also Children’s Month). Although the organization is not faith-based, the majority of the children are Catholic (being in the Philippines and all). Afterwards, I just hung out with my supervisor and her daughter in their home (also on the grounds). I cannot begin to tell you how comfortable I really felt there. Well, I mean, I have felt so comfortable all day, but we just kicked back and watched some television and hung out. It was pretty cool.

Afterwards, the kids (all 140 of them, plus the staff) presented a program for me. Behind the stage, it was decorated with, “….family Welcomes Lynn Debilzen”. I truly am a member of the family, which is so cool. The program lasted for about an hour, complete with singing and dancing. It was so awesome, knowing that all this effort was put in just because I was there. How cool. So overall, I am extremely happy so far with everything my site has to offer and how I feel about it. We still have a few days, and hopefully they go just as well.

Oh yeah, and P.S. I saw the President of the Philippines today…getting out of her private jet. You know, that’s how I roll.

Supervisors' Conference

(from Tuesday, September 30)

We are about to wrap up our supervisor’s conference and head to our individual sites, and I am feeling pretty good about the type of placement I am going to have. I am saying this with the idea that yes, it’s all good on paper and I need to see if it’s great in real life as well, but nevertheless, I am excited. We’ve had various getting-to-know-you sessions, which have helped a little bit to understand each other.

In Filipino culture, working relationships are of utmost importance. Spending time with co-workers outside of work is crucial to developing these relationships. In addition, much of work time is utilized towards making these relationships harmonious and agreeable. This is a bit different than the United States. For example, let’s look at a typical work meeting. What would happen in the States? Usually, participants would prefer to have an agenda and to follow that agenda. The meeting is expected to begin on time and to end on time. The participants will stay on task throughout the meeting, and socializing will be left for after. Most of the time, there is no expectation of supplied snacks or beverages, although they are sometimes a part of meetings. In the Philippines, participants will arrive (sometimes on time, sometimes not) and socializing will begin. Relationships are cultivated through chika-chika and talk of what is going on the community. Usually towards the end of the meeting, business will be conducted, and the participants will return to socializing. It’s something to get used to.

Tomorrow I’ll be heading to my site visit for four whole days and then to a week of street immersion, where we’ll be working directly with a street education program and also with a outreach program for prostitutes. It will definitely be educational, and it will be great to get a glimpse of possible secondary projects that I’ll be able to work on.

And in case you were wondering (because I know you were…), our Tinikling dance for 250 people went amazingly last Saturday night. We emceed, and besides pronouncing the governor’s name wrong three times (stuttering…I’m smooth), it all went great. It was so interesting. The program was put on in honor of Mary, Mother of the Orphans. All of the kids performed dances that they had worked hard preparing, but it makes me wonder when they are performing to dirty hip-hop songs. However, I cannot even begin to emphasize the level of cuteness when toddlers were dancing to “Low”. Amazing.