The Finale

I miss my daily hugs from Paula, Susie, Anna, and Ron-Ron when he’s in-the-mood; the constant calling of the twins “Ate Jessica Ate Jessica tignan mo ako Look At Me Look At Me” as they twirl or jump or throw a ball in the air; the moody pubescent attitudes of the 4th year girls Chona, Lea, MayAnn, Alona and their laughter when I call-them-out on it; the daily offering of (instant) coffee every day after lunch by Ate Ner or Ate Rosie and sharing it with them in the dim-lit kitchen as we swap “chika-chika” stories and gossip; the attentive faces of the youth during Life Skills when I hit a topic they are actually interested in; Berna’s hands as she rolls beads and assembles jewelry with professional accuracy and speed; Dok’s big big grin every time I yell “What’s up Dok” and Justine’s persistent questioning about anything and everything under the sun; I miss Ate Elna’s attentiveness, the instant ability to jump to my assistance during any activity when my Tagalog flounders or I can’t explain a topic well, and I miss Ma’am Jeanne bringing me noodles and medicine when I have come down with a fever, serving as Supervisor, Friend, and Mother all rolled into one tiny giggling package. I miss Espe and Lerma and Michelle’s smiles, Complete and growing in Confidence.

I miss walking home every evening to the greetings of the barangay locals, “Gabi na Jessica, It’s nighttime now,” and the group of little little kids right where the cement road turns to dirt running up to me for “mano,” for blessings, and then skittering away with a “Goodnight po.” I (almost) miss Katorse the dog jumping on me only when I am wearing white, and the late-night videoke blasting across the rice fields. I miss the rice fields, and the sun and the stars and the bamboo tree lit up at night with dozens and dozens of fireflies, my own natural summer Christmas tree.

I miss speaking Tagalog, and city vendor’s always-surprised reactions when I respond to their English-beckoning in Their language with a laugh. I miss fresh fruit and vegetables, mangoes and camote tops and big pineapples when they are finally in season. I miss the quiet that takes over the streets when Manny has a fight, and eating like a dog for every fiesta and every holiday. The floods that force me to wear my rain boots during Typhoon time and the laughs from my neighbors when they see how incredibly dirty those boots are.

I miss sitting with Angie and Leander on my porch sharing a beer and talking about Everything, not afraid to hurt anyone’s feelings and genuinely curious about one another; Leander’s attempts at English and Angie’s exasperated corrections. I miss English Club and how giddy I feel when I teach a lesson that sticks. I miss Jude and Nathaniel always being late.

But I am so happy to see my parents and my sister and my dog and my house and my friends and my country, a country of order and “equality” and wealth. My parent’s house with its bowls and trinkets and books and posters from all over the world, and the pictures of Ali and me throughout childhoods that seem so long. My father’s stories and my mother cuddling the dog with a blanket on her lap and a book in her hand.

The quiet suburban roads, the highways with big clear signs and cars that use their signals and the clean engines that don’t belch a thing not smoke not anything but if they did they would say “Oh Excuse Me!” with embarrassment. The hot showers I swore I wouldn’t take because it Wastes So Much Water and my mother’s compost bin and the city’s new recycling policy, and for toilets that let me flush paper down them. Watching the news in English, and Internet that works. Going for a beer with Brady and Lou and seeing that my friends are all Growing-Up and becoming Adults but not feeling sad or left out because of it (just a strange out-of-body feeling but really just proud). And driving again. Yikes.

I’m excited for the future, a future that is entirely unknown after this weekend, but I’m a bit wary of all the options and the decisions and the American lifestyle workstyle studystyle playstyle that is so foreign to me now despite two years of (often unconsciously) nudging Filipinos to alter their lifestyles to be “a little more like Us.” I’m apprehensive at how quickly people may get tired of my stories, but thrilled at the idea of being back at school in an environment where everyone is interested the same thing as me and my ideas and knowledge Just Might fit in perfectly. I am wary of returning to the classroom, but I am excited to be near Boston—even if it’s really really White (yeah, I said it)—because any new place holds opportunities and a freshness that Middletown will surely no longer have after a mere few weeks of being home. I’m excited to travel the country to see Returned Peace Corps Volunteer friends, but more excited that I can just pick up the phone and call them, call anyone.

Call Me, I’m Home!

Jess