It’s been a while since the last blog, and quite a bit has happened. Most recently and importantly, I have moved into my “own place,” and it is like a Dream. Or rather, Peace Corps meets Disney Fantasy, according to my friend Kate. It is a nipa hut (bahay kubo in Tagalog), or a native hut made from bamboo. But, while many nipa huts are really just small bamboo shacks, this is a simple and small yet Beautiful House.
Half of the nipa is taken up by the front porch, with bamboo benches, a water cooler, a long table for my dishes and books, and a TV of course. Around the corner is the fridge (or “ref” as it is called here), microwave (a microwave in a native hut, this place is PIMP!), and the “kitchen” sink. I have a small CR (comfort room, bathroom) with an actual working cold shower, flush toilet, and working sink, although the water in the sink always smells like rust so I don’t use that. And then finally there is my bedroom, small but incredibly charming. The nipa is on the property of family who own a large 2-story American-style house. They have a large property, even have planted grass. It is a gorgeous set-up, to say the least. But the best part, that’s the view from my bamboo rocking chair.
Boso Boso is in a valley surrounded by mountains, and on a clear morning it is crisp and quiet and breathtaking. So here I am in the Philippines, the land of 7,000 islands and some of the most beautiful beaches in the world, but I am more than ok with my little house and my mountains.
As I said, life has fallen into a routine, or at least normalcy here. A typical day starts early, around 6am if I haven’t been able to drag myself out of bed to the roosters and exercise. I hit snooze on one of my two alarms over and over and finally pull back the mosquito net and crawl out of my deliciously comfortable large bed. I open the windows immediately to let in some air. There are two windows in my bedroom, but they do not have screens or glass. To close them, there are two sliding panels made of bamboo. When the panels are closed, very little light gets in. So every morning I open those windows and flood the room with fresh air and light. I walk around the corner to the CR to take my bath. Although I technically have a shower, I still usually take a bucket bath because I have gotten used to it and because it saves so much water. The CR is a tiny structure, maybe 4 square feet, including the toilet, sink, and shower head. It is a pretty typical size for a CR here though, and indeed you really don’t need much more space, I have found. Often the CR is called a “wet room” because, simply, everything is always wet. You bathe in the same place you use the toilet and wash your hands. There is no bathtub or shower area. Why bother, it works this way! Who needs the luxury of subdivision! Anyway, everything about this house is like perpetually being camping, except with electricity, much better amenities, and a large 2-story house next door.
So after I shower I go back into my room and thoroughly baby powder my body, knowing full well that it will be useless protection against sweating once I get on my bike and into the hot hot sun. It is getting to be the summer months now, and I was mistaken when I thought it could not get hotter than it felt during Training. Breakfast and dinner are prepared by Kuya Joey or by one of the girls that live in the house. Some mornings it is bright red hot dogs or thick, sweet sausage-like meat (I very much dislike these) and rice of course, while other mornings it is sopas, a macaroni and vegetable soup that is simple and highly edible. After I have taken my dozen various vitamins, poured fresh water onto a plate and put my peanut butter jar in the center (it is the only way to keep the numerous tiny ants from somehow finding a way into the closed jar), I head off to school (assuming it is Tuesday, Wednesday, or Thursday) on my bike. From my house to GCMTS (Grace Christian Mission Technical School) is a dirt road, and I must watch out for the goats that wander onto the path. But it is only a 2 or 3 minute bike ride, just around the corner. If I have a 1st period class (grade 6) I arrive for the opening morning ceremony. Usually I am late, having adapted well to “Filipino time,” so most likely I have missed the national anthem. If I am lucky, I have not missed morning exercises—a combination of bends and jumps and stretches that I really must record because I still find them so amusing.
As it is close to graduation and summer vacation, it has been exam time. Grade 6 is now finished with classes and spends their time preparing for graduation. I am very much OK with this, because it was a tricky and difficult situation when I was helping with that class. As wonderful as the kids are, they simply do not understand me when I speak English and I do not know enough Tagalog to direct an entire lesson. So that was always a bit of a frustration. Now, however, I usually stroll in later for 2nd year (high school) English. There are two sections of 2nd year, the good and the not-so-good; that is, Dahlia and Magnolia. The Magnolia class does not listen to me. They get up in the middle of class and leave without saying anything or simply saying “Maam may I go out” and leaving before I reply. They talk or they sit in the back and do work for other classes. They stand up and change seats for no apparent reason. And sometimes, one boy especially, they take their school uniform shirt off and sit in front of the fan because it is so hot. They would be very amusing if I wasn’t trying to teach. Which, by the way, I do not know how to do, having had only 2 weeks of PST informal education training. Thankfully I have a counterpart, who I am in essence assisting. However, my counterpart for 2nd year is the elementary school principal, and she is a very very busy woman with a lot of stress and a lot of things to do. So, often I am alone with the class. Truly thankfully, I have Dahlia after Magnolia and I can end my morning on a good note. Oh am I thankful for those kids! They are, for the most part, a bit brighter than the other class, not to mention much better behaved. I almost always find myself smiling when I leave, an unfortunate rarity with Magnolia.
By then it is around noon, and time for lunch at the center. I hop on my bike and ride the 5 minutes it takes to get to GCM. Fortunately, half way there the road turns into concrete and the riding/walking is much smoother. When I arrive at Grace I am usually greeted by a dozen kids yelling “Hi Ate Jessica!” which will always bring a smile to my face. I wheel my bike into the office, and say hello to Ate Ner and/or Elna, the two social workers, and my supervisor Ma’am Jeanne before grabbing my fork and spoon (knives are rarely used, replaced by spoons as it is much easier to scoop up rice with this combination of utensils) and heading to the dining room. Usually there a fish dish, as we are living in a country of 7,000 islands and this is the most popular food besides rice of course. Today there is a chicken dish with potatoes, carrots, and a curry-like sauce, plus a special dish Ate Rosie made out of banana hearts, vegetables, and coconut milk. Delicious, I say. And it is rare for me to say that, as I am definitely not the world’s biggest fish fanatic. I tolerate it, but rarely do I desire it. Also, fish here are not the nice filleted and cleaned meals you see in the U.S. You cook a fish, and then when you eat the fish you remove the head and the bones and any insides if there are any. The kids at my center learned too early on that I do not like the fish head, so they always joke with me trying to force the head onto my plate. As a friend of mine once said, Never will be the day that I think to myself, Man, I have been craving fish head All day. That just won’t happen.
While I eat, at the long table with the older kids, I always have the feeling that I am being watched. That is because, of course, I Am being watched. As I eat, as I drink, when I clean off my plate, when I walk or talk or read or type and especially when I bike. Someone is always watching. Thank goodness I haven’t fallen on my face doing anything. Yet. But I love the kids and their curiosity is entertaining. I try and enlighten them whenever I can when they start to stare, explaining what I am doing, or poking fun of them and staring exaggeratedly back at them.
After lunch, the assigned kids clean up the dining room and wash the dishes, while others sweep around the center and the rest get ready to return to school. If there is time, I may get out some books for them to read or a coloring book to color. Usually the little kids just hang on to me and pinch me, pat my arms, and play with my earrings or my hair. Besides being watched, I am always being touched when the little kids are around. It can get irritating but then I remind myself that these kids don’t get daily hugs from parents, so I just squeeze them back and play along. This is especially true for the kambal, or the twins. Mae Mae and Joy Joy are 5 years old, identical twins, and really quite precious. They were both severely malnourished, coming to the center upon “near death” as I have been told. They are both a bit delayed in their speech, but they are both so happy and so so energetic!
And their bellies are already smaller than when I first came to the center. Recently, Mae Mae has realized that she adores me. It is certainly reciprocal, but it is very hard to walk or do any work with a 6 year old twin hanging from your leg. Sometimes I hug her and tickle her and then run away really quickly so I can get back to work. Did I say yet that I love these kids? I love these kids.
A typical afternoon/day at GCM often involves me working on my computer. Typing a letter for this or that sponsor, making up weekly life skills, working on a training for staff or the community, or doing other organizational activities. Some days I go to bayan, or town, with my supervisor for a visit to a local official or a government office. Some days I go to bayan alone to use internet for research or printing or email. This past Saturday we held for the first time an event called Walk for a Cause, a similar idea to a walk for MS or breast cancer, etc. back in the states. The past few months had been spent advertising and planning for the walk. The concept was a good one, except for one fact: Filipinos generally do not like to walk. They take a trike to the end of the barangay instead of walking. And there is proper reasoning perhaps, as it is incredibly hot for 10 months of the year. That fact, combined with a shortage of advertising and following up (which I will attribute to lack of experience doing so) meant that although the walk was supposed to be a fundraiser, we did not have enough participants to raise very much money. So that was a bummer, but all in all the kids had fun I got to get 2 straight hours of exercise. My endorphins made me feel very accomplished afterwards.
So there you go, this is my life here lately, in a nutshell. There are good days and there are very not-good days, and life is still generally a wild ride of emotions, but things are settling and I am becoming.... content. For now at least.
Hey! I am so glad everything is falling into place. Everything looks really beautiful. And you are making me miss bucket baths!
ReplyDeleteLove,
Ash