Holy Week on Guimaras

I feel good today. I couldn't tell you why, but I do. It's not the sort of thing I question.

It's the holy week here in the Philippines (presumably in America too), and in the Philippines that's no small event. There are a variety to religions here, but Catholicism is certainly the most prominent; to the point that public schools actually force their students to mass on occasion. Ross, who works at a school, brought this up to a teacher.

Ross: "But don't you have freedom of religion in this country?"
Teacher (completely serious): "Yes, but we have freedom of Catholicism"

I've heard Catholics in America talk about the Philippines, and their sentiments were something to the tune of "yes, they're Catholics, but they're not REAL Catholics". I'm not sure where that attitude comes from. Perhaps because on almost every house in the country you will find an outside wall where there is a cross painted in chicken blood (during training we were advised that if we moved into a new house, and we failed to make such a cross, our neighbors would do it for us without asking - it's bad luck not to, and they don't want any part of that bad luck). Given that Catholicism was brought to the country by the Spanish, who allowed the church to rule over the country as tyrants, I think their devotion must be particularly strong. They even go to church more than your average European Catholic - both on Sundays and Wednesdays.

But their At any rate, my point is this: the country is currently absorbed in the activities and festivities of this week. Guimaras is actually host to a large event, the re-enactment of the crucifixion.

This time last year, before I had been told that Guimaras would be my home, I made the visit for Holy Week. On Good Friday the boats leave Iloilo city, but rather than bringing you to the port, the deposit you on the side of what just barely doesn't qualify as a mountain. At the top of the mountain is the biggest cross I've ever seen, and it is visible from anywhere in Iloilo city that you can get a clear line of site.

The hike up the mountain is supposed to represent the personal sacrifice of Jesus. This is a popular event, and last year it was so crowded that the hike up the mountain moved at a snails pace. I never knew a mountainous trail could be so crowded, but this one was. People from all over the world were there, and as a result we were packed on this trail like a can of sardines climbing up a mountain.

You would take one step - very careful to keep your balance on the uneven terrain (after all, if you stumbled you were likely to send a few people screaming off the side). Then you would wait. And wait. Maybe 5 minutes would pass. Then the crowd would surge very slightly forward, and you would take another careful step.

Once at the top you not only get to see the giant cross, but you also have the privilege of buying a festive belt from a man who will try to charge you quite a fee, despite the fact that you clearly went to a great deal of effort to get to his shop.

Off in Jordan, the re-enactment takes place. Jesus is led down the path, carrying a cross and being viciously whipped by Roman soldiers. This happens just outside the mayor's office, leading me to believe that he is a supporter of the crucifixion - you would think that's a dangerous endorsement to make just before elections, but the man has guts. The whole presentation struck me as oddly disney-esque last year, in a way I can't quite explain. I'll take pictures this year, and maybe you'll understand.

Now with that particular tangent complete, long days and pleasant nights everyone,
Allan

It's Been - One Year Since You've Looked at Me

A picture taken from my bedroom window. I think someone down the block just didn't tie him up very well

At the time I'm writing this it's 11:30am in the Philippines. That's exactly 12 hours difference from the bed in which i slept just over a year ago. It's been 1 year and 9 days since I left that bed.

For as far back as I can recall, at the end of every year I have been struck with the odd notion that the year had passed so swiftly by; every year seems to have been more hurried than the last. But on this year anniversary the sensation is even stranger: while the memories from one year ago still seem vivid in my mind, as recent memories often are, they also now seem alien to me. I do feel like this year has passed quickly - I remember times when I felt today was an eternity away. I recall the thought "1 year. Can I really make it one year?" Shortly before Thanksgiving, I was even decided: No I could not make it a year. I was going home. I'd be home for Thanksgiving. The great block of time I had to pass through seemed so immense and enormous, like some massive foreboding mountain in my path. I never left, and a year has passed. Now I've made it this far, I can't recall how it could ever have seemed such a big deal.

It's strange to remember back one year. The memories are still fresh enough that I can recall them with ease. But my state of mind was so different. In some ways I have trouble identifying with that person. He knew nothing back then: he understood no language, none of the culture. He had no idea what to expect of this country, of his work, of the people here. His immediate future was almost entirely unknown. I remember some of ideas I had of what it would be like - of course I knew that I had no idea, but I couldn't help but imagine. Those fantasies seem so silly to me now, more like jokes. Peace Corps told me there was a 50-50 chance I wouldn't have electricity. I considered buying solar panels and all sorts of things, I questioned whether it would be wise to bring a laptop. Of course, now that I'm here, I've never met a volunteer who has no electricity at their site. I should have known better than to trust government intelligence.

Of all the strange and unique aspects of my service, the most unexpected was this sense of distance I have from my life in the US. I feel like I've undergone some change in identity; this wasn't an entirely unexpected feeling, but the nature and origin of that change is far different than I expected. I've been removed entirely from my old life, not just from my surroundings of a 1st world country, but also from my family, my friends, and in some ways my past. It's as close to starting an entirely new life as one could imagine - except that this life will come to an end 15 months from now.

Without my friends and family, in very different company, I realize how much of my identity is social. I'm a very different person in the company of most Filipinos. I've always been a person that people, when the first meet me, have a difficult time understanding. In a new culture, with the language barrier, that's magnified 10x, and I end up behaving differently. My sense of humor is far more mild, my whole personality more sedate. I do have other close American friends here, the other volunteers, but they didn't know me before. Most of my life my close friends have mostly suffered from a social oddity of some sort, nerds, goths, straight-edge, Doomcrows (arguably it's own category), my friends have always been a strange bunch. I'm friends with almost all of the volunteers in my area, good friends with many of them. But they're mostly not people I'd expect to make friends with. And most importantly: they didn't know me before we journeyed half a world a way from my homeland. I had to make my identity anew with them.
My host grandmother, she's quite a character. She's old enough to remember hiding from the Japanese soldiers as a girl - if you were caught you were killed. In the 2 months I lived with her, I never did figure out what that is that she's doing in this picture, but she seems to do it all day long every day. I think she's shelling mongo beans, but I really don't know.

I guess the point I'm making through all this rambling, is that I never knew how much of me wasn't carried around in my head. In this new, radically different environment, with new friends, I feel so disconnected from my past and from my old life that sometimes my memories feel more like dreams. In their life, every person has their own distinct dramas and traumas, their own successes and failures that remain in their mind as something powerful and important. Each person has their own fears than loom over them. I've gained so much distance from those things, that when i recall them, I feel silly that these things ever evoked such passion and fear from me.

I've emphasized the social aspect, but the environment has just as much significance. I walk into the houses of some people in this country and think to myself "my god, these people are filthy rich". By and large, the house of my parents would put it to great shame. In other words, my innate understanding of wealth has been radically changed. I try to imagine going back to my parents house, and how strange that thought seems. On one hand it will be hard not to be awe-struck by the luxury. Screened windows, hot running water, a bath, A/C, 2 floors - I haven't seen a house like that in over a year. If a house has any one of those things, the family strikes me as rich. To have all of them and to live in that place seems - my imagination can't really grasp it.

At the same time, how could I really return to the house I've grown up in with a sense of awe? It's home. The feeling of home is practically the polar opposite of awe. That's a feeling of warmth, security, predictability. You can't "make yourself at home" in a place that seems in-credible.

It will be interesting for me to return home this May. Actually I'm so excited by the prospect i feel like the next month and a half ought to be kind and just sort of skip by me. Of course I'm excited for Rachel's wedding - to see a good friend make such a major life change is hard to conceive of. One of the reasons I felt a need to come back for this was because... well it will be weird when I return home no matter what. But to return with something so radically different as Rachel married, and a mother, well that seems like more change than I can miss.

Of course, I'd be lying if I didn't say that seeing my other friends and family didn't play heavily into my decision. That old Allan i feel so disconnected from - I miss him. I miss my life, my friends and my family. So many volunteers I've talked to feel like after Peace Corps, their old friends will probably have moved on, and that they'll need to find new ones. Perhaps I too will find new ones, as I seem to every year. But I've always been blessed with such close-knit friendships that I honestly I haven't spent one second worrying that my friends won't be there for me in the future.

Ok, in the case of the Doomcrows, I DO worry. Mostly because I know they WILL be there, possibly with spite and pointy objects. But at least they'll be there.

I guess I should wrap up this long-winded retrospective. On a side note, it truly sucks to be sick when you live alone. Especially when you have no fridge or potable water. Currently I've got a devil of a cold but I've still got to make it to the town for food and water. Then I'll have to make my sick-self some food. Bleh. Take care everyone, I hope to see you all soon,
Allan

Two Caribao bathing in the stream. I thought there was only one when I raised my camera to take the picture. The other one eagerly popped his head up for the photo op.

The Slow Rush of Time: Food, Fun, and amFibians

Today, March 21st marks a special day in my peace corps career. One year ago today I left my family and friends for a roller coaster ride I call the Peace Corps. A retrospective on this year (which feels like simultaneously the shortest year of my life, and a decade of experiences) is in the works, but not quite ready.

Here on Guimaras, dry season has taken hold. I don't believe I've seen a serious rain in well over a month, maybe 2. Droughts are a problem here on Guimaras, and water is running out at my center. The boys have begun their daily kilometer treks to the nearest body of water, so that they can wash themselves and their clothes. The former is a particularly cruel joke on nature's part, as walking a kilometer in the current heat leaves you in need of a bath. Therefore, by the time they have made the return hike from their bathing, they're in need of another trip. I haven't visited any of the boys quarters recently, but they are short on the water needed for flushing their toilets, and undoubtedly the resulting smell is not pleasant to live with.

For myself, I'm luckier. I have two buckets: one small and one quite large. Every evening my landlord turns on the water so that i can fill my buckets, and those buckets sustain me until the following evening. It's nothing so hard as life at the center must be - really the buckets hold more than enough water than I use on a daily basis. But it becomes difficult and less pleasant to wash my dishes with no running tap, and boiling water for my coffee in the morning seems less appetizing when that water has been standing 9 hours and has a visible layer of something without name on its surface. To pour that same water into my coffee cup, even after a thorough boiling, can turn my stomach. The key is not to think about it.

I appear to have a new house lizard: he is a small guy compared to the other two Tokay geckos, I've decided to call him Brain. It's only a natural choice in names, given that I already have a Pinky living above the kitchen, who is significantly larger than Brain. If I can say only one good thing about Brain, it is that he has chosen the best place to hide during the afternoons: as I am a man I naturally keep my toilet seat raised most of the time. Brain cleverly hides on the wall just behind the raised toilet cover. He's very well concealed, and I'm sure he's been there countless times without my notice. But that sounds like something you could tell your children to scare them, doesn't it? "Don't leave the toilet cover up Ben, or Brain, the toilet lizard, will hide behind it. He'll wait for you there, biding his time until you sit down - and when you do, he'll have you!"

Personally, I'm quite fond of Brain.

My relationship with Marianne continues to go well. I met her family just 2 days ago at her barangay's annual Fiesta. Her family were all very nice and pleased to meet me. Her father asked me if I was considering marriage. In the Philippines there is great emphasis, i repeat GREAT emphasis on being the perfect host. Time and again I have visited someone's house, and time and again the host humbles himself (or more commonly herself) so much that it truly seems her greatest desire is to please you however possible.

You know, when I first entered Peace Corps I was told that I would face many difficulties: strange places, an alien culture, a language barrier, and having to feast until we're bloated. Well at this last item I laughed. Everybody laughs! But it's true - I have faced few adversities larger than Fiesta!

The host will stack your plate full of foods - you must try a generous portion of every one of the dozens of items served. Traditionally in the Philippines it is only polite to clean your plate - that is a message to the hostess that she is a good cook. But woe be unto him who tries that at Fiesta, for Fiesta is an exception: if you clean your plate at Fiesta, that is a message to the hostess that you want more food. The amount of food removed from your plate before this message is sent will vary from hostess to hostess - in the case of Marianne's fiesta I was being repeatedly told "Please, get some more!" before my fully-loaded plate was half eaten.

Telling the hostess that you're full - that you don't want any more - can be an exercise in futility. In the Philippines people will routinely offer things that they don't want to give you, for politeness sake. If you pass someone eating lunch, even if they only have enough for one person, they'll offer you food. They may, however, be disgruntled if you take them up on that offer; after all, everyone understands that it's for politeness sake alone that it was offered. As a result, people often will say 'no' when that are offered something, even if it's something they really want. This creates an interesting social dynamic when someone actually DOES want to offer you something, because how can they know if you are declining out of politeness or because you really don't want it? This is why, even if you've eaten a horse at Fiesta, you will be offered more food. Again and again and again and again and again.

The 'generous host' pride goes very far too: when someone leaves a Fiesta, they will often be given a bag of leftovers to take home. In my case, I was given an exceedingly large bag. As I prepared to leave the house I was given a bag containing: 3 mangoes, a container of chop suey (at least 2 servings), 4 chicken wings, a container of spaghetti (2 servings), a container of fruit salad (3 servings), a box of candy and a whole chicken. I'm certain I left something out too...

I live alone and without a fridge. This was enough food to feed me for a week! Honestly, maybe more than a week. Currently I'm storing it in my landlord's fridge and heavily encouraging him to eat to his heart's content.

Travel Update

Right now my tentative idea is to be in America for about 2 weeks, possibly arriving on May 6th and leaving on the 20th. To those of you whom I very much want to see, but who have difficult schedules to navigate, how does this sound to you? It's not set in stone yet: it can be changed for YOU! But I can't do that unless I know that I need to. I'm aiming to buy these tickets in about a week, so please get back to me before that time.

Thanks, and I hope to see everyone roughly 2 months from now,
Allan

Manila

Kwan Staff Dance Party!

So I am back from my week in Manila. I had good coffee, good food, good company, and did some good work. This quarter's issue of The Kwan is completed, and the AIDS conference was at least a little bit informative. It certainly gave me an idea that I want to pursue here.

One of the problems with the spread of AIDS in the country is the distinct lack of sexual education in schools. On paper, the students are supposed to be receiving it, but in reality the teachers are far to shy to teach it. This is pure conjecture, but I suspect many of them might not even be entirely sure on all the facts themselves. What I do know is that there are 30-year old college graduates who aren't entirely sure how babies come about.

Most everyone probably knows that it can happen through sex... but past that everything becomes extremely vague. I suspect that almost no one has a strong understanding of their own body, let alone of the opposite sex - and the term STD is known, but I don't think anyone knows exactly how these are transmitted. This is disturbing to me because I think people ought to understand basic human physiology. If women don't understand how babies come about, they probably don't understand their own bodily cycles either! People ought to be educated in how their own bodies function. But people looking to advance sexual education in school repeatedly hit the same walls - no one wants to talk about it.

My idea; what I'd very much like to convince the Department of Health or Education to do; concerns the fad of youth here: text messaging. Most people, even young people, have access to phones, and the Philippines is the Text Message capitol of the world. People here seem to text all the time, seemingly non-stop. What I want to see is a text-based Sex Ed hotline that anyone could contact with questions and expect a response.

It would be easy to set up, and extremely inexpensive to run. The texting should cost no more than 40 cents a day per active phone, and after that all you need is someone educated on the subject managing each phone. It's the sort of program that, while no replacement for actual sexual education in the schools, could do wonders to boost awareness. Filipino students are often quite shy, but they would almost certainly ask questions by text that they would never have the courage to stand up and ask in a classroom, and they could receive straighforward answers by text, without any frills, flowers, birds, or bees that the teacher might be tempted to add for the sake of delicacy.

So that's the vision I got from the AIDS conference. It doesn't really work into my primary job assignment, but other volunteers at the conference also really liked that idea and I think if I can somehow get the ball rolling it would begin picking up momentum very quickly.

In any case, I digress. I'm happy to be home now, Manila gets under my skin quickly. I love a good starbucks coffee, but I pay more for my Short Mocha Valencia than I do for 3 meals at site. That may be while money seems to pour out of my pockets while I'm there. And it just gets aggravating not being able to walk 3 blocks without encountering 2 different men trying to sell you Viagra - and those men will each follow you half the block trying to convince you! I even had one such man make me an offer - buy the viagra and get the woman free! Awesome, you see what the cost of labor is in this country?

I also had a GRO (which is an official name for prostitutes here) follow me half a block one night. I didn't know she was a GWO; she was dressed modestly and looked like she was waiting for a cab. She asked me for the time when I walked by. Now, I was raised in DC and it's common knowledge that if someone tries to talk to you on the street, no matter what they say, be it "Do you have the time?" "Got a light?" or "I'm having a baby!" you don't stop walking. In fact, speeding up doesn't hurt, and that's what I did after briskly saying "Sorry, I don't have the time" (and it was true).

She followed me, walking quickly to keep pace with me. At that point I guessed she was either a GRO or she wanted to rob me. She kept up conversation, told me she worked for some Bar-B-Que place down the street (some of the most unlikely places employ prostitutes!) and eventually told me her name and held out her hand. This was all amidst a power walk down the street, mind you. But we have certain instincts we've had trained into us all our lives, and refusing to shake someone's hand is incredibly rude, so I shook her hand even during my heart-pumping, I-really-have-to-outpace-this-woman stride.

She grabbed tightly onto my hand and shoved it onto her left breast.

Fortunately we were just about to my Pension house, and I was able to snatch my hand away and walk inside without having to worry that she would keep following me. But it gets under my skin.

You know I don't like prostitution, but I do think it ought to be legal (why should we put someone in prison because we're not keen on their choice or profession, especially with so many with no job at all?). But there are good business practices and bad business practices. I was walking swiftly down the street, barely sparing her a word or a glance as she followed me. Did she really think I looked like an ideal customer?! It's just aggravating not being able to walk down a street without fending people off. The pension is not in a bad area, that just seems to be Manila for you.

But... the point is I'm back at my bamboo house now, and not too upset to say goodbye to Manila.

An Informal Announcement

2 Days ago, I receive an e-mail from a good friend of mine, Rachel. Like many of my good friends, I've had only sparse contact with her through the last year. I knew that since I'd left she had become engaged. What I didn't know is when - and the email I received two days ago told me this: She's being wed in May.

You know what? I think I'll be there.

May's close at hand. God, it's only 2 months away, and I'll have to pull this together relatively quickly. But I think I'm going to do it. I don't have the dates yet, but the trip I'm planning ought to last about 2 weeks. It might also come at the worst possible time for my still-in-acadamia friends, for whom my visit may fall pretty much during final exams. I hope there's a way to work around that, but I'll need to figure out when those times are for everyone. So: everyone still in acadamia leave a note or send an e-mail! God knows, I want to see you while I'm in town!

There's still some details to work out. The passport that I need to get out of the country is being processed by some government organization right now, to renew my work visa for another year, so something along those lines. But I've talked to the Peace Corps, and they think they can get it back for me.

So that's the announcement guys. You just may see my face come May

Things Fall Together

If you read my last entry, you may recall that I mentioned that with everything going as well as it is, I'm expecting a nasty visit from karma sometime soon. It has to happen - everything just seems to be going so well all of the sudden.

After my meeting last week between my supervisor and regional manager, we put together a nice list of potential projects I could work on while we have no computer - my supervisor told me that she had requested the emergency purchase of a computer from the central office, but it may be months away still. By that point I had more or less given up hope of ever seeing a computer, so this wasn't the least be disturbing to me - I just wanted more work options, and the support I need to perform them.

During that meeting last wednesday, I achieved that. Friday, the computer arrived at my center.

Despite it being an emergency purchase, it wasn't old or broken or out of shape. The one computer we did have at the center for roughly a week, arrived from being "fixed" with it's shell covered in rust. That computer had no USB port, it couldn't read most CDs, and it took more than one hour to boot up. This new computer is nothing like that.

It arrived brand-new, along with a nice computer stand, a voltage regulator, a comfortable computer chair, and a very nice looking flat-panel lcd screen. What a nice friday surprise, huh?! I conducted an informal needs assessment among the staff that very day. My biggest problem? Most of the programs the staff are interested in learning, I barely know myself. So I'm going to have to start teaching myself how to use new programs, namely: microsoft Access and Powerpoint, and I'm going to have to refresh myself on how to use Excel, because it's been awhile.

The staff are all interested in learning more about the internet - it seems that while most of them feel comfortable using word, all of them would like a better understanding of e-mail, web-research, and web-design. The latter, I have no clue about. However, my good friend and fellow volunteer, Sean, has offered to come visit for a week (he works at a university, where there are no classes in summer, so he'll have the free time) and conduct a Dreamweaver training.

So I'm excited. I'm going to manila tomorrow - in this exciting time of development at work, I feel bad disappearing for a week. But when I come back, my biggest problem should be - where to start?

Excitedly yours,

Allan

Be it Ever So Crumbled: It's Life Jim

(Kris Aquino is the hostess of the incredibly popular Filipino gameshow "Deal or No Deal". I couldn't pick her out of a line-up)

So after roughly 2 months of consecutive travel, here I am, back at site. Actually, i've been back for roughly 2 weeks now, i'm just a slow poke at updating.

I'm happy to report that Guimaras has changed while I was away. About three weeks ago two internet cafes just opened up here - that's right, not one but two! The connection isn't much, but the closest cafe is 10-15 minutes from my house, which easily beats the hour and a half it takes to get to the city. There are virtually no landline telephones on Guimaras, which is why it's taken so long to get internet here. But thanks to the beauty of cell towers, there is now a wireless service being offered here. If I felt really rich, i could actually get wireless on my laptop for $20/month, but as that's 1/8th of my monthly salary, I don't feel quite that rich.

But wait, it gets better! Just beside one of said internet cafes, there is a cafe now offering some very decent brewed coffee. If I haven't posted on this before - finding brewed coffee, let alone decent coffee, is all but impossible here. There are plentiful coffee beans produced in this country, and the vast majority of them are bought up by nestle, who converts them into "nescafe" instant coffee - which is what everyone in this country drinks. Now, in fairness, it's probably the best instant coffee I've ever had the displeasure of drinking, but the best pink wine in the world is still pink wine, and I have been missing decent coffee dearly.

I've had trouble readjusting to life back at site, but things are looking up. I met with my peace corps regional manager and my supervisor yesterday about potential projects, and the results are very promising. It also built my confidence up... sometimes i feel that things are progressing so slowly that I haven't been doing much of value. But when we had to discuss my activities at the center in our meeting, it really didn't sound like I had been slacking half as much as I felt I had been.

For the first time i really feel like I have my supervisors support to pursue projects. My existing baby of a project is also progressing - we conducted our 2nd Lifeskills training yesterday. It went exceedingly well and my counterpart in that is eager to do another. In fact the 3rd was supposed to happen today, but I had to cancel for another meeting with my regional manager. Maybe before the weekend though.

I've got a girlfriend now. Have I mentioned that before? The lovely, sweet Filipina who was my date for new years. Her name is no secret, but I'm not entirely sure she's want me to write it here, so I'll abstain. All you have to know is that she's incredibly sweet and her english is excellent. She lives far away from me, so we haven't gotten together very frequently, but I think that will change in the near future. I hope!

As if all that isn't enough I indulged in something wonderous today: a chilled box of hershey's chocolate milk to commemorate today. "What makes today special?" you might ask. If you did, i would have to tell you that 11 months ago today I left my my home, friends, and family for this crazy rollercoaster that is life in the Peace Corps. The days have been long and the months have flown by.

Of course, no sooner do I find myself readjusting to life at site than I'm off again - to a city well-known to me by now and disliked a little bit more every time I visit: Manila. If you'll recall I'm part of the staff of The Kwan, the quarterly volunteer-written newsletter. We're going to hit up that big city to put this quarter's letter together.

The location is just as well, because I've just been informed that I am now the Peace Corps AIDS rep for Guimaras, and we have a mandatory conference just 2 days after my scheduled Kwan assembly ends. This mandatory conference travel and lodging is all coming out of the pocket of my peace corps allowance - note the frustrated font I write that with. It's the same font I've written everything I with, so it might be hard to pick out, but the frustration is there. Oh well.

The point is, by and large things are going great here and there's every sign that they will only get better. I would have told you that a month ago too but... things progress slowly, what can I say? I hope everyone is enjoying their snow back at home. Just now the weather's graduating from hot to Natlie Portman (extremely hot) and I'm missing the rain that the dry season isn't providing anymore. Long days and pleasant nights everyone,

Allan

Apo Island

Apo island is located just off the coast of Dumagete, about an hour by boat. Supposedly it had good snorkeling, which was my main interest, but really I went because everyone else was going there. After all, no point on missing out on something good to see when I'm already in Dumagete.

The boat ride there was not something I anticipated. The vessel was low in the water. It had a compartment for our luggage to go in, but as for the passengers - well there weren't really any seats. We just sat down where ever there was a flat surface. What no one was prepared for - least of all me - were the waves. During the hour long boat trip, the passengers could be expected to be splashed by a wave roughly every 10 seconds. Not a small splash either - oh no! As a passenger you would do no worse tethered to the back of the boat. Half way to the island, we were all as soaked as if we had been swimming the whole time. The gusty winds on the water made it cold too, and I probably would have arrived on the island feeling rather crabby, except along the trip I saw something really pretty amazing.

Can you imagine looking beside the boat and seeing a bird flying low and close to the vessel? It's kind of fun to see that. But then you have a double-take, when you realize the bird flying a few feet away from you actually looks alot like a fish. Let me tell you, that is one surreal double take, and I felt for a moment as if I was in a Dali painting. I'd seen flying fish before, but usually they don't stay airborne like this one did. This was significantly larger than flying fish I'd seen before, and it stayed in the air, gliding beside the boat, for longer than I realized any fish was able to do. At the end it didn't just flop gracelessly into the water, either. Gradually it descended until it was gliding closely above the water, and then *sploosh* it was gone.

So it was a nice introduction to Apo Island, which proved to be a magnificent place. For anyone who may come to visit me in the Philippines, I will definitely be taking you here. As I stepped off the boat I realized I was in a paradise. This island was just breath-taking in its beauty. I couldn't adequately describe it. We only stayed there overnight, but it was wonderful. The snorkeling was excellent - in fact it is one of the best preserved marine life sanctuaries in the country. The coral begins as soon as the water does, and it was actually a challenge to get past the initial coral to a place you can swim around and see the beauty and marine life from enough of a distance that you weren't in danger of letting the tide slam you into said marine life.

The Barangay on the island was enjoyable to walk through. The people there seemed as genuinely friendly as I could imagine. I got to witness what appeared to be a little girl baking bread in an outdoor oven fueled by coconut husks. In addition to the beautiful beaches, there was also a forest of very dramatic-looking mangroves. It was just, overall, a very nice place to be, and our rooms didn't have electricity or running water, but they had an amazing view.

So, in short, I enjoyed my short stay there. It was the last of the 14 different places I've ended up traveling since Thanksgiving. What a way to end it.

Still Alive

It's been a while since I've updated - I know it has. I'm not dead though. Definately still alive. My tooth hasn't even fallen out yet!

My last update came just before I set out on more travel -- first a visit to Iloilo for the Dinagyang festival. Outside of Panay island, the Ati-atihan festival in Kalibo is widely recognized as the country's best, but in this region it is a hot contest between Kalibo and Iloilo, and people in either region are likely to tell you that their's is the better festival. Dinagyang was fun, it focused more on the coordinated dancing than on the costumes. By contrast, Ati-atihan had great costumes and there are no coordinated dancing - however they also feel proud of this because without coordinated dances anyone in the audience who chooses is welcome to join in the parade.

I had mixed fortunes in attending this festival because on Sunday, the highlight of the festival, I had to leave in the morning for a Program Development Management conference in Dumagete (around 8 hours south of me). So I had to miss the best of the festival, but it also means that when I'm asked by locals which festival I thought was more beautiful, well I'm able to dodge that question.

So I traveled to Dumagete city. It was a very nice place to say the least. It was a tiny city, but it had a beautiful park area along the sea wall where people would bring their families and walk their dogs. And the dogs there were well kept, beautiful dogs all on leashes. My experience in the philippines has mostly shown me areas with many stray dogs, and where even the dogs who are pets roam free and look rather mangy. I made me happy to see some pets that looked cared-for. There were a few nice restaurants in Dumagete including an indian food restaurant which made me a very happy man.

The conference itself is not something I would talk much on. It focused on how to design and execute projects in very general terms. Most of the things focused on felt rather obvious. But it's just one of those subjects -- if I wanted to completely design a major project in my center, with grant funding and everything, I really might not know where to start or quite how to proceed. The steps involved aren't difficult, but sometimes something of that magnitude needs to be broken down for you to help you sort things out. Anyway, the conference was fine and probably did me some good.

Afterwards we travelled to the nearby Apo island. I knew virtually nothing about this island when I left, except that there was supposed to be excellent snorkelling and that everyone else was going there too. But I think Apo Island merits its own entry.

Ati-Atihan: Estimated value - 17,000 Words

Super Happy Medical Fun Time

Well ladies and gentlemen, I can say this for 2007: thus far it hasn’t been boring. And even though I’ve spent a good part of the month traveling to one place or another for medical reasons, it’s managed to be somewhat fun too, at least most of the time.

After a large portion of one of my molars fell out in Boracay (the size of a baby tooth in its own right), I high-tailed it to Manila to see the local Peace Corps dentist. As I mentioned in my last entry, I fully expected that after 24 short years of wear and tear, my mouth would see its first crown. I wasn’t looking forward to it. However, this has not come to pass. Instead, after examining my mouth, the dentist decided that although it was a close call, a large filling would do.

Now, I am not fond of dentists. The feeling of dental work being performed in my mouth, even with Novocain, has always unnerved me. That in and of itself would be tolerable except for that which is even worse: the sound. As soon as I’ve managed to tune out all the poking and prodding being done inside my mouth, the other senses, formerly ignored, come pouring into the forefront of my mind. This brings on the inevitable thought: ‘Why, what is that sound of cracking, hammering, and drilling? Is there a coal mine nearby?’ It takes only a split second for the horrible realization to hit me. There is no coal mine! These mining operations are taking place inside my own body. That cracking and hammering and drilling is being done not to some foreign object nearby, but to my very own body. Consequently, those noises don’t sound particularly gentle, certainly not delicate -- very unlike the work of a doctors’ graceful hands or even those of a stage magician. It sounds like they’re smashing apart your mouth.

In any case, I’ve lived through that process easily enough in the past, and I survived yet again. At the very end of the filling process, tooth fully installed, the dentist slipped a piece of carbon paper in my mouth, and asked me to gently move my jaw back and forth. As I obeyed, the filling broke off and toppled out of my mouth.

So it was right back in the dentists chair again for another 45 minutes of tooth-mining. I bite down on the carbon paper a second time, and everything seems much better. So I returned home to the Peace Corps pension only to have that filling fall out again at dinner. It was a very sad event, for having a tooth detach from my mouth ruined what would have been a very nice meal for me. Good food, after all, is plentiful in Manila.

So the next day I returned to the dentist where I was absolutely certain they would give me a crown. After all, they said it was a difficult decision in the first place, and It seemed obvious, at least to me, that the filling was not working out. However, this was my assessment, and the professional disagreed with me, opting for the philosophy of the timeless motto “If at first you don’t succeed, try, try again!”

After the filling was installed for the third time, my jaw ached terribly. I’m not sure exactly what technique the dentist used, but I recall her pressing down into the filling area with all the strength her arm could muster, and I felt that for several days afterwards. As the dentist debriefed me afterwards, she told me to remember that the molar in question was weaker than all my other teeth, and that I ought not to chew on much, especially hard things.

“For how long?” I asked.

This was met by a brief, uncomfortable silence, followed by her words “Just be careful”. I pressed her on the matter, and she basically made it sound like I ought to follow this rule indefinitely. This concerned me a little bit, since in my 24 years of life chewing has actually been the most common use I’ve found for my teeth.

Then the woman at the desk went over some paperwork with me, and told me fairly directly that chances are more than likely that my filling will fall back out again, and when it does they will give me a crown.

I didn’t go back to my pension happy. Actually I returned very discontented. I have no urge to have a crown, but if I need one I see even less reason to delay the time consuming and uncomfortable operation. So I directly asked the Peace Corps medical officer that they remove my filling and install a crown, since it seemed inevitable anyway. The medical officer was very sympathetic, but told me that my dentist was convinced she had done the procedure right this time, and without the recommendation of my dentist, Peace Corps HQ would never approve a crown.

You gotta love insurance companies. They’ll just be spending more money when I return to Manila the next time my filling falls out. Such is life.

What I haven’t mentioned thus far is my migraines. In Manila I had my first migraine of the year. When I returned, half a week later, to Iloilo city I had a headache. This headache was to be the first of many successive headaches and migraines I would have over the next 10 days. For those 10 days, sometimes my headache was so minor I could barely feel it, sometimes it was an extreme migraine, but not a single day passed without the former. 7 days in, I contacted my medical officer with a medication question. When she learned how long my head had been plaguing me, she told me to see a neurologist in Iloilo, and so I did.

This neurologist sent me to another neurologist, working at the local hospital, and that one told me that she wanted to hold me at the hospital for the night and run several tests (including an EEG) the next day.

Staying the night in the hospital seemed almost laughable to me – I didn’t even have more than a minor headache at the time. But the doctor talked with my medical officer, and stay at the hospital I did. My Regional Manager from Peace Corps happened to be in town, and when she heard that the doctor had ordered me not to eat any processed foods, she went out and essentially purchased me an orchard’s worth of fruit. Grapes, bananas, mangoes, apples, pears, chico (a brown fruit that tastes oddly like brown sugar), I had them all in plentiful supply, and things were good.

The next day was my EEG. Fun times! They attached all sorts of electrodes to my head, told me to fall asleep if I could, then they flashed bright lights in my eyes. I think some part of me really expected I would somehow gain super powers from this, but if I have, they have yet to manifest.

In the afternoon the results of my EEG and neck x-rays came back – both perfectly normal. I didn’t have more than the slightest of headaches and above all else was going stir crazy in my room. Ross, who had been my kasama the previous night, went home mid-day when it was clear I would be fine. So I was more than a little shocked when the doctor told me that she would not release me until the following day. Despite the fact that I was feeling good, in perfect health, with no signs of serious ailment, she wanted to hold me for another night for testing.

This was not a good situation for me. Filipino hospitals were made with the assumption that any person staying there would have a kasama, someone to run needed errands for you. Soap, toilet paper, water, outside food, even medicine – you need a kasama to procure all these things for you. If the fact that ‘medicine’ is on that list surprises you, recall that this is a 3^rd world country. They have 6 pharmacies around the block, but only a limited variety of medicine actually in the hospital itself. So after the doctor has proscribed you to take a medicine during your hospital stay, you still need someone else to go get that medicine for you.

So this was the problematic situation I found myself in. Ross had already gone home, and the notion that I might stay in the hospital without a companion really was unthinkable, both to myself and to the staff. Someone came to my rescue though.

A lovely Filipina, the one I had spent the good part of Christmas Eve with, had come to visit me late that day. I don’t name her, because I’m not sure she would want me to, but she was very kind. She agreed to be my kasama and stay the night with me in the hospital. So my evening wasn’t half bad, staying in an air-conditioned room, with cable tv, a refrigerator, plentiful fruit, cold water, and a beautiful young lady – I would have felt downright guilty if I wasn’t being held against my will.

I was released from the hospital Thursday afternoon, and had no intention of letting my traveling stop. I had long been planning to travel north for the weekend, to see the cultural festival known as Atiatihan. Taking place yearly in Kalibo, it is known as the largest and most elaborate yearly cultural festival, and draws Filipinos and tourists alike from all around.

A New Year

The sequence of seasonal events has passed us all by. 2006, still feeling as new and alien to me as did 2005 before it, has passed into past, ushering us into the year 2007. It will take some time before I begin writing the correct year when I date things.

Usually I write some sort of retrospective post for the new years, to reflect on the happenings of the previous year, and on what has changed and what has stayed the same. This year, that seems almost silly. I don't ever expect to see another year quite like 2006, and I will be very surprised if ever I do.

It's been a big year for many of my friends and family, indisputably a year of change. It's been a year of bold moves and aimless life all at once. My father went to Botswana to pursue a dream, the outcome of which is still uncertain. My brother went to college far, far away (though writing from the Philippines I suppose 'far' is a relative term). Several friends moved out of houses and away from their families to pursue their new post-college lives as the adults which I may never believe we have become. Maria and Jason even moved to Canada.

It has been a year with divorces, stalkers, cancer, and sexual harassment. A very good friend of my family has been slowly dying, and all the tears and prayers in the world haven't changed that. As if that weren't so very hard to deal with, yet another good friend, children still young, is grappling with progressive dementia. There is nothing to be done about these things, except to do as we always have done: take each day for what it is, and value every person we've been fortunate enough to love.

It has been a year of change, and a painful one for many. The world continues to move, and thankfully the children continue to grow (though a few children ought to grow a bit slower).

Here in the Philippines, I would not have expected to see so many similarities between the life I've had hear and the life of my friends. I've spent the last 9 months adjusting to a new place and a new way of living, trying to make friends in a new land where I know no one and trying to find a place for myself where I am employed. The same is true of many back home. It seems like this last year has left every close peer I have questioning what their destination in life will be, and searching uncertainly for a way to reach it. It seems as if we have all scattered to the wind to find our places, each one of us adjusting to a new environment and looking for a place in it. As I said before, it's been a year of bold moves.

For myself, I've gone through so many varied experiences and changes that I could not imagine being so ambitious as to list them out. I still recall in the first few months I was here how new and alien everything in this country seemed to me. The things which seem simple, obvious, and mundane to me today were mind boggling and, in some cases, alarming only a short time ago. The days here have not always been easy, nor even fruitful, but I cherish them dearly for the very unique life experiences they have been and the insights they have offered me; I can think of little I would trade them for.

As this year wound to a close it left promises that 2007 will see changes of its own. On christmas eve I had my first date in 6 years with a very kind Filipina. I don't believe anything will really come of it, but time will tell. It was, at the very least, and enjoyable time. At work my supervisor and one of my best co-workers have been promoted, leaving the projects I had hoped would begin very soon in limbo - or so I thought. On December 28th, during that period between christmas and new years when no work ever gets done, I was finally able to do my first lifeskills training with the boys of my center (or rather the staff conducted the training with my guidance). The next time I went into work, just after new years, suddenly staff are asking I assist in the informal education process, maybe teaching math. The boys have begun to flock around my desk regularly for informal english tutorials that keep me busy most of the day. It may not sound like all that much work, but for me, the last few days have been very promising.

Of course, I'm writing this from Manila. My trip to the white sand beaches of Boracay was wonderful, but with the first bite of my first mouth-watering meal a sizable chunk, perhaps the size of a baby tooth, broke off of a molar and tumbled out of my mouth. So here I am in Manila for a dental appointment. I expect I may be getting my first crown tomorrow. Very exciting.

I hope this new years finds everyone reading this in good spirits, and that no matter how difficult life has been, it has not stopped you from appreciating every bit of wonderous beauty each day of joy and hardship contains.

Halong gid permi

(be well always),

Allan