Half Way

Hello and my apologies for the two-month long lapse in time since my last post. That being said, here are some updates on my life here in the Philippines.

It is just about the halfway mark for my service! That is, just about 13 1/2 months (but who's counting) since we landed here and just about the same amount of time until I return to the US. Incredible? It is for me. The things I have adapted to in this time...

Well take for example this morning. Cleaning as I do on a day off, I noticed as I swept my bamboo flooring a mouse jump from my suitcase and dart past my swinging broom toward the exit (that is, the open walls of my house..). This no longer frightens nor disgusts me. It just annoys me. Damnit, I have to buy More poison?? Turns out it wasn't so easy this time. I opened up the storage-unit-suitcase to find some new facewash, and to my Great shock, also found myself eye to eye with a small family. Of newborn mice. Curled up, bald and beating hearts through their fragile skin, on my now-chewed-up bathing suit, nestled in its hole-y folds. "Shit!!" I said first, and then I screamed "Angieeeeeeeee!!!" to my neighbor. Fruitless, she was out. I had to deal with this my 24-year old own self. So, after removing the dozens of toiletries, socks, extra sheets and towels, I texted another volunteer. Help. She responded with character sarcasm, "Put them in a bag, take em to the river." Fortunately for me, there is no river nearby, but I did have a bag so I shook the poor creatures into that to buy thinking time. I considered for a quick instant buying a cage and raising them as pets. But flashbacks to Harriet Tubman's cruel death, and then to my ruined bathing suit, and I had second thoughts. Cleaning up the mess and thinking, I then noticed the fresh towel I had used this morning, and I noticed the thoroughly chewed marking all over it. I had dried off my clean and naked body with RAT GERMS. That was it. The babies had to go.

I'll spare you the horrid details, only to say it was I, not the mouse mother, that abandoned her children at the side of the road for the hungry dogs to eat. Well, at least I fed the dogs.

I have already forgiven myself, thought I do have Murdered painted in scarlet letters on my chest for at least a little longer... Adapted, I sure have!

Other news.

Just about a month and a half in to their training now, is the newest batch of PC Philippines soon-to-be volunteers, batch 269, an initial 140+ Peace Corps Trainees. The batch before mine, batch 267, will be closing their service within the upcoming weeks. And my batch, 268, are now the "veterans."

So it seems to go, especially in the few jobs I have held in my short life. One year seems to oftentimes mark the "veteran" status, and so strange to now be in this position. As part of our new status as PCVs, we can now partake in serving as resources for the new batch in their multitude of trainings. I was fortunate to be selected to assist with Adopt-a-Cluster training. As a result, I went down south to beautiful Palo Leyte to do a workshop on incorporating informal literacy into CYF (Children Youth and Family services) based sites (such as mine is). Workshop aside, I got to get to know some of the trainees and answer for them all the questions I was asking just over a year ago.

It was funny to see that all the questions about culture, language, Peace Corps policy, food, etc. were just the same questions and worries I had just so recently tried to answer for my own future. Do you use the language at site? When can I stop living with a host family? Did your site match with where you wanted to be? Have you done projects at site? Do you get along with your counterparts? Are you happy?

These questions seemed like the be-all-end-all for life during training. But nonetheless, I speak enough Tagalog to get some giggles and a few conversations started. Living with a host family, two host families was a great cultural experience, but it was rough. To be told when and what to eat, what to do and when, to have no space or freedom, it was a relief for most of us to be able to live on our own. Despite forming some lasting bonds with our families, being 23+ years old, the majority of us did not want to go back to being (what we saw as) kids, even if we knew no more than a child here. As for the other concerns that the trainees have, that I had, let's just answer that with a simple response. I am happy after one year.

Still, I finally had my first Filipino fight, carried out 3rd party style. A Filipino friend was mad, and I heard about it through her refusal to make eye contact or talk to me, and then through another friend. The 3rd party system. It did not involve hair pulling. No punches were thrown Manny Pacquiao style, just a pure and simple passive aggressive fight. Sigh. Some things I just won't be used to though.