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.

So this is how work goes...

Yesterday was my first day of “work” at the place that I now call my home. I showed up at 9 AM for our agreed-upon meeting time, and the office was just getting opened. I met my supervisor in her apartment, which is in the main building. This is actually quite convenient for me, because anytime I simply want to hang out, eat, relax, watch TV, I can just go to her place. I was shown my office, then I talked to a few people, we looked over my list of things to do in the next five months (which would kind of seem overwhelming to anyone normal, but it was alright), and then I read over the goals of our outreach program. Then, with not much else to do, I maginterneted for a while and then ate lunch with the co-workers. I think this mealtime everyday is going to be crucial to our building relationships, as that is what we’re supposed to do in the first few months. Apparently, if no one likes me, we won’t be able to get anything done. I better practice up on my videoke and my jokes. After lunch, since it’s really hot and we just ate a lot of food, a nap is sort of a necessity. I enjoyed an hour and a half-long nap with my supervisor. Don’t worry, we didn’t share beds—I used her daughter’s. This gets counted as relationship building time as well.

Then, I attended a 2 ½ hour meeting, which was actually quite beneficial in understanding how they do psychosocial and behavioral assessment on the kids that are in the center. I was really impressed, because it seems that they have a pretty efficient system (considering the organization has been around for sixty years and operates all over the world, I don’t know why I was quite impressed, but I was). Anyways, I was then invited to attend one of the house meetings that night, which happen once a year in each house. I agreed because I really wanted to see what was going on. Again, I was really impressed. Each child in the house had a chance to say how things were going in their lives in school, in the center, within the house, in their biological families (if they have them), etc. Each other child was then given a chance to respond to that child with their reactions or suggestions. The way the social workers interacted with the kids was great to watch as well, considering I was told that social workers didn’t really actually do much interaction and that their jobs were actually very different from social workers in the States that work with kids. It was great to see that I have great role-models as counterparts and supervisors. While it sounds like this meeting was great to sit in on, don’t get too excited. By this point in the day, my head was spinning from speaking and trying to understand so much Cebuano that I literally was tuning most of it out. I really couldn’t understand any of it, which just made me keep thinking about the fact that I really need to keep studying, which might have made me more overwhelmed. The main word that I heard and understood throughout the entire meeting was “bah-o”, which (depending on how you pronounce it), means “stinky”. Baho, pronounced a different way, just means “smell” without the negative connotation. So basically, I sat in this long meeting and all I understood was that someone had a stinking problem. I’m pretty sure there were more issues going on than this, but that’s all I got. If this is any indicator of my abilities over the next two years, I’m screwed.

Since I was at work so late last night, I didn’t need to come to the office until noon today. It was actually really nice because I was able to sleep in (also thanks to the lack of roosters), do Pilates, and read. In actuality, I really should have been more productive with my time, such as gone and looked for a much-coveted bike, gone to mail things that need to get sent to Manila, or even just nagsuroy-suroy, which means just wander around. That all would’ve been good, but my brain has been tired. So none of that. Heck, I have two years…

I got to work and ate lunch with the co-workers. There was a super awkward moment at the table since the counterpart who walked me home last night brought up the fact that I’m a fast walker. We decided it was because I’m tall, and I also added that Americans are typically fast-paced at everything. They then told me that maybe it would be better if I were walked home by the co-worker at the other end of the table, since he’s tall and I’m tall—and he’s single and I’m single. A.W.K.W.A.R.D. I then proceeded to say that I don’t want a man, which they understood meant that I wanted a woman. Then I had to clarify again. I’m really looking forward to more awkward moments like this! The many moments of discussing my weight have also been slightly weird, and I’m sure I would have been much more annoyed had my weight been going up instead of down. I’ve definitely lost some chunkiness, and perhaps some of my fun-pouch, since site visit, and there is a combination of excitement and nervousness felt by my co-workers. Heck, I’ll be honest—half of my pants can be pulled over my hips. They’re happy for me (I didn’t ask for any happiness…), because they thought I was a little tambok before, but they’re also worried that I’m wasting away. I’m pretty sure I still weigh plenty, and I don’t need to be med-evacced anytime soon. But it is still a topic of office conversation, which makes me slightly self-conscious.

I was again asked if I needed a nap. Since I just arrived and to be honest hadn’t done anything this morning to actually make me tired, I said I would go maginternet instead. And here I am. I bet you are stressed out just thinking about my rigorous schedule. We’re also still celebrating my birthday, apparently. My counterpart was sent to fetch ice cream to celebrate my birthday, and that he did. Perhaps the celebration will end soon. I am already 25 and 2 days old, which makes me pretty close to 26 already.

And P.S. I know it’s been a while since I’ve responded to emails, but I assure you I’ve received all and I will get back to you in a timely manner (and by timely I mean, soon-ish).

Pictures, Again.

Celebrating my birthday with my supervisor...

All of us out for birthday dinner.

My new sister, Ann Ann, and her uyab, Hermie.

My new brother, Ian (pronounced "eye-an").

My new sisters Ann Ann (center) and Ruby (right)

Heather and I, my Wisconsin buddy.

We love to pose. Showing off our new shirts.

Me and our Country Director after Swearing-In.

Pictures.

My roomies from IO and I - reunited again!

Best-looking cluster ever!

This is how I felt all day. Please. Ask me the stories. I'd be happy to share.

My counterpart, Ted, and I - SO excited that now I'm a volunteer.

So excited after taking my oath. Well, it's a pose.

Taking my oath.

Conveniently using the air-con as a background. That's where I stood ALL DAY.

We can't help it...we've tried to look sweaty and gross in this country and it just doesn't work.

That's us!

Enjoying the band before Swearing-In.

Our cluster minus Josh. And no, I am not sitting on some random Filipino's lap - it's my language teacher. Which might make it seem more strange. But it's not.

I mean, we know we're gwapa.

Celebrating with a birthday cake in the hotel - thanks mom for the candles and candies for the top!

Showing off my new gift from my old host family....which I haven't quite figured out yet. I think I'll use it as a yoga mat.

Oh yeah, the time we killed the turkey...

I can't believe I forgot to write about this day, but in all the chaos that was counterpart's conference and swearing-in, I just didn't have time. And by that I mean, I'm pretty popular and a girl's gotta socialize, especially after emerging from a rural area where socialization was not really an option all too often. Anyways, so for our last night together, my cluster (which I can honestly say was the best cluster in all of the Philippines) had a nice dinner and sleepover, complete with butchering a turkey, baking vegetarian lasagna, and watching Home Alone. Who wouldn't want to have been a part of it? Well, plans were to make lechon pabo (Cebuano for Roasted Turkey). This is because we proposed to make vegetarian lasagna, and our LCF decided he wanted something more "American". What better than turkey? (And by the way, apparently it was decided amongst my cluster that since my family tradition is not to have turkey on Thanksgiving, that I am a scrooge. Hm. This could perhaps be true). Anyways, silly American me for thinking I would show up and there would be a frozen turkey. Edward said he would be the one to get the ingredients, and that he did--the live turkey was ready to be killed. First, though, we had to make a skewer out of bamboo. And by "we", I mean Edward.

Then, we locate the peaceful turkey and tell him that he will be killed. Result: he is not happy.

Third, we realize that in fact the turkey is very ugly and that maybe the killing won't be so bad.

Fourth, we find a rock and drive a nail through the top of its head. Apparently this helps with the bleeding, but I still don't quite understand. And I'm pretty sure we did it wrong anyways.

Last but not least, Josh was responsible for the chopping....well, he kind of missed but he gave it a good shot. This resulted in the need for more chop-chop.

Enjoy!

The Celebrations.

Well, that’s it—after thinking about, writing about, dreaming about, and celebrating my birthday for so long, I am finally 25. We had a full week-long celebration, starting with a cake at the hotel last Sunday when we arrived (accompanied by two rounds of singing “Happy Birthday”) and finished with a wonderful dinner out with my supervisor and her family last night. Sandwiched in between those pieces of bread, there was another cake with only my favorite other volunteers (accompanied by singing and some super awesome gifts), a dance party in our hotel room, a night out on the town, a night of celebrating swearing-in, being able to talk to my mom on both her birthday and my birthday (because of the time difference….how cool), baking a cake and celebrating with the stranded volunteers in my city, and a birthday party for my new cousin, who turned 8. It was definitely a busy week, and I am exhausted!

I arrived at site on Saturday looking like a mess of emotions—all week I had gotten about 2-4 hours of sleep each night, we had formed some good friendships, I was so nervous to go, and then we had to say good-bye to everyone. Yes, I was crying (I’m a crier, so I’ve found out…haha). I was also throwing up and sick to my stomach, thanks to the nervousness. That was definitely something new. I slept the entire 28-minute flight to my site, but once I was at my site again, I remembered exactly why I loved it the first time. It is just like a big family and is such a great place to be. My emotional roller-coaster went directly from being way at the bottom to being way at the top. Crazy how that happens! I slept for three hours once I arrived at my new host family’s and then did all my unpacking. I will just take this moment to say that I absolutely love this family already! I have three new siblings—two sisters (23 and 17) and a brother (15). The parents are pretty awesome as well. And so far I feel like an actual member of the family, rather than like a guest. I’m also not quite sure what to do in the morning—there are no roosters to wake me up, so I feel really lost and disoriented when my alarm clock is the first thing to wake me! The hot water heater for the shower is going to be tricky as well. Ha, just doing some bragging. Have I mentioned how cool they are? Plus, they own a catering business, so all the weight I've lost so far will be creeping back on (which wouldn't necessarily be a bad thing...I mean, right now I can literally pull my pants over my hips while still buttoned).

Wish me luck on my first day of work!

It's Official.

(From Friday, November 7, 2008).

Today was swearing-in, the long-awaited day where life as we know it will change. Basically, all of the soon-to-be-volunteers get all dressed up and pretty for a day (this lasts only one day because it’s the Philippines, it’s hot, it’s sweaty, and I don’t understand how anyone ever looks good) so that we can attend a ceremony where we listen to speeches and then repeat an oath to serve our country. After the oath is taken, we are then volunteers, which means we will no longer endlessly be referred to as trainees. Hopefully this new label will help relieve our inferiority complexes which we’ve developed as a result of constant “trainee” labeling. Anyways, that’s really all I have to say about swearing-in…I do have other great stories about the day which are not appropriate for here. All you need to know is that I definitely made you proud, trust me. Signing off as Lynn, the Volunteer.

P.S. I want to give a shout out to my amazing older brother, who turned 29...and my amazing old-old mother who turned a fabulous 52.

Proud to be an American.

I can honestly say that I have never felt more proud to be an American than I have today. Although I wish I could have enjoyed such a historical and moving moment on my home turf, it was amazing to be surrounded by seventy other volunteers and Peace Corps staff as our new president was announced. The room was full of cheers and tears as we watched Barack Obama humbly forge ahead. As for me, there was definitely crying involved and I can’t even express my happiness. All I could say was, “This means I can live in America again after the Peace Corps…I mean, if I want.” America, I love you today. And thanks for voting. And speaking of voting, I’m still waiting for my absentee ballot…I hope the write-in ballot arrived. Not that it matters now. It’s been a great day.

REFLECTIONS on a QUARTER CENTURY of LIFE.

Today begins the series of days in which I am about to reflect on my upcoming birthday in a somewhat teary-eyed, completely grateful and appreciative, and slightly proud (hopefully not arrogant) manner. As much as I hate to admit the truth, I do absolutely love those emotional, sappy moments of reminiscing on days past and experiences yet to come. As you may or may not be aware, I am going to soon be the owner of twenty-five wonderful years of life, which equals exactly a quarter-century. You may say, “Big deal, right?”. Well, I would just like to highlight those people and experiences in my short life that have been important to me (without naming too many names, for fear of leaving someone out…..since you have ALL had such an impact in my life). This is not meant to be a shrine to Lynn and her experiences, but rather a shrine to all who have partaken, encouraged, befriended, guided, loved, confronted, counseled, and taught her. THANK YOU.

First, I want to let you know how I approach birthdays. For fifty weeks of the year, I consider my birthday no big deal—I mean, we all have them, right? I am horrible at sending cards (I’d rather give personal messages…it’s just, sometimes…I forget). I always say I’m not going to do much or anything for my birthday, besides celebrate with family of course, since November is big for birthdays in my family. However, then two weeks before my birthday arrives, and I start to accumulate the excitement of a four-year-old on Christmas Eve. I usually casually remind everyone that it’s my birthday, and I have no idea why…I mean, we all have them, right? But then my birthday usually turns into a weeklong celebration, because I think everyone deserves to celebrate for an entire week. What appears to be humility and nonchalant-ness quickly turns into birthday obsession and overindulgence mixed with a little bit of reflection. The reflection, of course, is always positive. I think back on the last year of my life, and I think, “Hell, 24 was great, so 25 has got to be even MORE fantastic.” Last year, it was, “Whoa—23 was so amazing, I’ve GOT to find a way to make 24 even better.” I figure with this approach that my life can only continue to go uphill, right? I mean, I understand that there are bumps in the road, but overall the years have been good to me. (I mean…I DO just keep getting better-looking…haha, that’s Filipino humor…I think).

FAMILY

I just want to start out by appreciating the people whom I believe to create the most fantastic family in the world—the Cosbys. No, just kidding—I am really thinking about my family at home! I truly believe that I was blessed with the family I was not because they needed all the challenges in life that came along with me, but because I needed all the support and encouragement that they have given me through every obstacle I have encountered. Not only does every single member of my family play a significant role in my life, but they also each add a bit of fun to every day and every moment.

Although it’s difficult sometimes, my family has let me be “me” for every moment throughout these twenty-five years. I remember a time when I was really young—I must have been four or five. There were a bunch of people over at our house, and me being the youngest child and a little self-absorbed (my brother Scott could probably attest to that as still being true today), I thought I just wasn’t getting the attention that I deserved. Extremely upset, I packed my mini-suitcase that was normally used for doll clothes and boldly headed through the kitchen past all the people, announcing that I was running away. This may sound like neglect, but nobody tried to stop me. For all they know, I could have went to the main highway and hitchhiked my way out of that little village. Thank goodness I didn’t make that decision though. Instead, I marched across the street and knocked on the front door of my neighbor’s house, and at that time, my best friend. Her Mom answered, but sadly, she was at dance class. Hm, what was I to do? I asked if I could just stay there and wait until she got home, but I couldn’t. Having no where to go, I sauntered back across the street to my house, knowing that I didn’t succeed but also knowing that there would still be open arms at home. It was a time where I needed to be “me”—even though it involved running away. This has happened figuratively so many more times throughout my life, and more so perhaps in my adult life, but because of my amazing family, I always know that there will be open arms to go back to. For that I am grateful.

I also need to thank my family for always letting me learn my own lessons. So many parents try to shelter their children from learning life the hard way, but I am so grateful that I have not been overly protected from the world—well, I have always felt safe because of them, but I was always allowed to stray just enough to learn things on my own. And life’s lessons have been so fruitful because of this. I mean, yes, sometimes I need to learn the lessons many, many times, but who doesn’t? I remember a time when I was on a family vacation at Fay Lake—I must have been three years old. I was enjoying time in the shallow end of the pool (or poo-yoo, as I used to call it) and the kiddie pool, when I decided that it was finally time to try jumping into the deep end. Don’t worry—I was completely decked out in my red Snoopy life jacket. I practiced a few times, and my Dad caught me so I wouldn’t go under. Well, I then decided the time had come to jump in on my own. I asked my Dad if I needed to plug my nose, and he said no. Well, what he forgot to tell me was that I did still need to hold my breath. This sounds neglectful, but it definitely was not, because I think we would all forget about this little detail. I gathered all my courage and jumped in! Even with Snoopy helping me out, I still plummeted below the water for what seemed like minutes, but was really only a split second, trying to breathe normally. Needless to say, the inhalation of a full mouthful of water into my lungs was not too pleasant, and I was not very happy with my Dad. Even though it wasn’t an intentional learning moment (well, I hope it wasn’t intentional), I still learned the hard way that yes, one must hold their breath while going under the water. Of course not all my experientially-learned life lessons are quite this scarring (I mean, since I’m blogging about it at almost-25, I clearly haven’t gotten over the trauma…haha), but they are all a part of me, and for that I am grateful.

I also need to do a shout-out to my family at this moment because not once have they shown frustration towards, what seems to me, my sometimes aimless direction in life. I mean, really, many parents or siblings or relatives would say or think questions such as, “When are you going to finally get a real job?” or, “ Why do you continue to move in and out of my basement like a bum?” or, “Are you ever going to be able to afford good birthday gifts?” or, “Don’t you think you should settle down and stop wandering around the world?” or, “Lynn keeps saying she owes me a dinner…it’s now added up to 749 dinners that she owes.” Well, maybe these questions have been thought (and I’ll be honest—I am constantly wondering these same questions about myself), but they have never been outwardly expressed. My dreams have been encouraged and supported, no matter how crazy they seem (well, thank you for not supporting my dream in fourth grade of being the first woman in the NFL – life would be very different now). For that I am grateful!

Overall, I am “me” because of my family. They have shaped me into a solid base of a human being, given me their values and encouraged me to develop my own, instilled in me a desire to learn, told me it’s okay to worry sometimes and have bad days, shown me what an amazing work-ethic is, supported me no matter what, and shown me that there is no reason not to enjoy life. For that, I am grateful!

FRIENDS

In reflecting upon my twenty-five years, there is no way that I could forget to appreciate my friends who have challenged me, loved me, inspired me, allowed me to have a junk-food day (or week, for that matter), and made me laugh so much that my stomach hurt for hours after. There are really too many people to put here and too many things to write, but I am so grateful for each and every person that has positively come into my life and the knowledge and inspiration and life lessons they have brought me. I have been blessed to have so many different friends from different experiences—friends from grade school, high school, Marquette, Ireland, UWM, AmeriCorps, Guatemala, random summer jobs, co-workers, Montana, and now, Peace Corps—that often it is so hard to sort everyone and know what each person is doing, but each and every person has meant a lot. Especially as most of us are going through the tumultuous mid-20s (I say most because some friends and mentors are as old as their 70s), it is more of a struggle each day as we continue to try to stay connected but geography or daily life seem to get in the way. It seems, too, that as I get older, the quality of my friendships seems to grow into something deeper and more genuine. Especially after moving to Montana, I feel that I now have a manageable number of close friendships, making all the slots seem full! It is difficult to conceive of letting more people in, for fear that I will cheat my already-friends out of the good-quality friendships they deserve. The solution is simple—I need to stop making friends. Okay, just kidding. No one wants to be the single old spinster without friends besides her own cats (well, besides Abby and I and a few others that I’ve discussed this with). For all this, I am grateful!

For each friend that I have, I can definitely link something important that I’ve learned to them, usually during a specific moment. From my friends, I have learned such things as how to communicate effectively and directly with others, how to attractively cut the collar of a T-shirt, how to cook enchiladas, how to be a better dart player, how to love myself, how to simply enjoy a baguette and choco-duo in middle of Europe, how to put on eyeliner, how to identify an avocado, how to spot a good mullet, and how to enjoy life. There are so many moments that I could describe in detail, but in hopes of not boring you (who am I kidding, you fell asleep five paragraphs ago!), I am only going to mention one. And this is not because of any special reason besides that I would definitely NOT be the person I am today if there hadn’t been this one single conversation that took place.

In 2004, after returning from Ireland and finishing up my fifth semester as an engineering student, I found myself wallowing in my own depression and experiencing reverse culture shock at its finest. I hated everything I was doing and had reached the point of not even liking myself. I had no clue what life was meant for, because at that time I was just focused on getting through the day. I couldn’t feel the connection to other humans that I really wanted, and I was frustrated and at the end of my rope. Alcohol was usually used for sedation, so that I didn’t really have to feel my lack of confidence, anger, and sadness. (Wow, this sounds like a BAD made-for-TV movie…watch local listings for airing on Lifetime). After spending a weekend at home that November to get away from the tedious homework that was overtaking my life, I knew that I couldn’t continue what I was doing. Something had to change, but I didn’t know what or how. Since I had no clue what I wanted to do or who I wanted to be, or even who I was at that time, I thought maybe I would take a semester off to work and save some money and just think and wallow. I mean, I had to figure it out at some point, right? After that weekend, I caught a ride back to Milwaukee with my friend Amy, who I’ve known since high school. I discussed everything I was going through with her in the hour and a half drive (because I found out that bottling it up doesn’t help either), and she listened like a good friend does. We discussed my options and since it was getting down to the wire of choosing whether to remain registered or not for next semester (codeword: tuition bill), she suggested that maybe I would like social work. How silly did I feel that at 21-years-old I didn’t even know what the heck a social worker did? I had no clue. She was studying it, and she thought maybe I would like it because it was all about helping others, which is exactly what I was saying I needed. In that simple car-ride that wasn’t even long enough to stop for a bathroom break, my life changed and headed down the road it was meant to go. By the end of the week, I had meetings scheduled with two different social work programs and I started working on my transfer-student application. Where would I be today without Amy? I have no idea! I mean, I can literally trace every educational or career choice since then back to that one conversation. What would have happened if I would have blindly pursued my fifth-grade dream of being a pilot or my short-term goal of just making money?!?! Whoa. Thanks Amy, for everything you are and have done for me. I owe you dinner sometime!

And thanks to everyone else who I could write and write and write about, even though it’s not here. For having all of those stories and memories of ways that I have been loved and challenged, I am grateful!

EDUCATION & EXPERIENCES

Throughout these twenty-five years, I’ve also been blessed to have so many cherished experiences where I’ve seen the world, the human spirit, and myself in whole new lights. While the list is endless, I am grateful for each and every one because not only did I learn endless amounts, but all of these experiences gave me the chance to spend quality time with those I love and those I didn’t even know would be my good friends someday. From my quality Catholic education to my world travels to my bike trip last summer to family vacations, they’ve all come at the right time and brought the right people into my life. For that, I am grateful!

WHAT NEXT?

Well, obviously, you are probably like, “What do you mean ‘what’s next?’—you’re in the Peace Corps, crazy reflective woman.” Yes, this is true. If all goes as planned, I will be spending twenty-five and twenty-six here in the Philippines, and who knows where twenty-seven will be? Peace Corps is definitely a time where people ask themselves what is next in life, so it’s not necessarily tied to my birthday reflections. But, who knows what’s next? I’ve entertained endless ideas of what my life could look like after this, but really, since I can’t tell the future, I won’t know until I get there!

Thanks for being a blog-reader, and most of all, a friend. .