November 30, 2011 Laundry (gotta share it, big part of life here for me)

Here I am washing. There is a sink with running water to my left. Ate Belin took this picture from the upstairs porch where we hang our clothes to dry. 

Hung up, swaying in the breeze that is almost always gently blowing. That's why my room is as comfortable as can be in this climate. The laundry and I share the same part of the house.

The porch is covered, so we never have to worry about rain except to move the clothes toward the center if the winds are very high.

From this angle you are seeing my bedroom window. The clothes and I share the delicious breeze.That is how Filipinos express it, too: delicious breeze: "masarap ng hangin!"
Since the beginning of our training Peace Corps has been urging us to dress up a little more. Filipinos dress very nicely, often in what PC calls "smart casual". We're apt to see those words on any invitations or instructions from PC.
Teachers wear uniforms, and they are very neat and tailored and made out of polyester. They are also very hot and the climate is a challenge for us anyway. (One of my cluster-mates has a sweating disorder and I admire his good attitude about it all.) I had three outfits made that are cooler but still easy to wash. I am wearing them as uniforms, which keeps cost and care easy. I think they will last for the 2 years.
I bought more clothes, too, to keep up with the Filipinos. These clothes require ironing. As it is absolutely necessary to wash every garment after every single wearing, ironing has reentered my life in a big way. I haven't ironed this much since we were little and ironing the bushel baskets of cotton clothing. Mama always made the setting pleasant for the big ironings- in front of the TV or on the porch.
Here we are really lucky to have a pleasant place too.

The hot iron rests on this bed of leaves which for some reason don't burn, but when hot smell good.

Bad News: After carefully ironing and hanging my clothes for the next day, they absorb the humidity and this is what they look like:

 Good News: Because of the humidity a quick press results in this smart casual, Philippines-ready look!

From what I hear from around the world, we Americans are quite relaxed in our clothing. It is a puzzle to both sides of the issue. Our exchange student from Hong Kong finally felt he had figured out why people in Minneapolis dressed so "sloppy". He said it was because Minneapolis is only a small farm town, unlike Hong Kong, where you wouldn't leave your house looking like that. 

November 28, 2011 Lizard in my water carafe!

It's evening, I relaxing, getting ready to settle in bed to read. I reach to fill my glass with water and here's what I see:

This little bugger got in through the small spout-hole and apparently couldn't get out. Maybe it's the same one that pooped on me yesterday!

November 28, 2011 Pooped on by a lizard!

Last night as I was reading in bed, I felt something wet drop onto my upper arm. "Funny", I thought, "It's not raining!" and I looked up and there was a lizard. I have been defecated upon by the likes of tiny frogs, kittens, puppies and babies, but this was a new one for me!

November 17, 2011 My classroom.

I began teaching yesterday. Ma'am Rachiel teaches 6 sections of Grade 6. Each of the classes is from 50 to 60 pupils. We are dividing each class in half and she is teaching English Reading and Writing and I'm teaching Speaking and Listening. The first two days have gone well. Just having such reduced class size is a boost to teaching.
Classes in the Philippines are homogenous, placing children in levels according to their performance. Therefore, there is a marked difference from one "level" to the next. Although I present the same basic lesson 6 times, I amend it continuously to adjust to their abilities. For instance, Level 1 played the 'Mystery Bag' game where we sat in a circle and passed my backpack, from which a pupil pulled an object out and told something about it, blending it in with the ongoing story. They did that all in English. That is very good for 6th grade English as a Second Language (ESL) learners. On the other hand, with some of the groups, I abandoned the lesson plan and used simple games to teach directions, such as Hokey-Pokey to teach them left and right.

I could not tell you which pupils I prefer to work with. I enjoy the engagement and intellect of Level 1 and 2, but I love working with children who've been discouraged or frustrated. I love seeing their intelligence.  And I love learning with the children, like I did in homeschooling. I'll be learning a lot more than the subject matter in these classes. Every day here is self discovery.
Rachiel has made this as easy and encouraging as possible. She arranged for this spare room to be my classroom and she got the room cleaned (I was sick the day it got cleaned.) Now we just do our work and watch what happens.

My classroom and my little cleaning elves.

November 15, 2011 A few of my favorite things- Jeepneys

 

Don't they look like they are hanging out with pals and at midnight they will come to life and start playing together? 

We call them Jeepneys but Filipinos call them Jeeps. They are ubiquitous. All you do if you want a ride in any town is wait along the side of the street and they pull right up for you. The drivers are finely tuned to the body language and can tell if someone wants a ride.   

Go Vikings! Filipinos really like America and many have relatives in the States  who are commemorated in style!

This is a tough job. The crocheted fringes usually ask God's help. I read that they count on God because the jeeps are in bad shape and the tires are bald.The white flowers hanging from the yellow altar here are some I bought from a vendor outside church. I laid them on the seat and the driver picked them up and hung them. This is what they are for; they're little devotional wreaths. My host sister, Marjery, watching over my shoulder as I type this, tells me they are Sampaguita. They smell really sweet, like gardenias.                           
In the driver's hand is pesos. They are constantly collecting and making change while driving which they pass back over their shoulder to the nearest passenger, who hands it down the line to the correct recipient. When you are ready to get off, you just say, "Para po!", and they pull off for you.

There's a story here. This is from my vantage point at the front of the benches, overlooking the driver's area. We teachers were packing in to go to a sporting event. There were 25 of us in the back and 2 up front to the right of the driver, but we wanted Sir Arjay to ride with us so the driver just scooted over a little and Arjay sat to the driver's left- beside the bald tire. So countem' folks! That makes 29 counting the driver! 

This was a Wednesday, you can tell by the color of the uniform.

 At PILMES, waiting for pupils after school.

Mahal kong Inay means "I love my mother"

At a region-wide sporting event in Batangas City.

I'm signing out, now, but I wanted to mention that tomorrow is special to me. I will teach in my own classroom for the first time.
Good night, everyone!

November 14, 2011 Jeepneys!

I knew I'd love Jeepneys from what my children told me about them. In fact, the first thing Carmen said when he heard I was assigned to the Philippines was that I'd be learning Tagalog and I'd get to experience Jeepneys. I was psyched for this.
They look like amusement rides that escaped the carnival grounds. "I am so lucky!", I thought. "Wait til my friends hear about this!"
I step lively right up to the door and, crouching to fit through the door, climb in. It's like stepping into a bus out of Alice In Wonderland when she has grown too big! Here I am sitting on the shiny, red, nagahide-covered bench. I'm still a little bent over because my head bumps the ceiling. So I must look a little like Alice, her over-sized body squeezed into her house. I've always wanted to say to Alice, "Just how do you think you are going to get out of there, young lady?"
I glance around, taking stock of the situation: Benches running the entire length on both sides. Although there are only three of us on board, I already feel the need to bolt, as though the door is too far and too small and it's getting smaller even as I watch it. And while I'm not real smart, I figure sooner or later other people will come tromping into my space, some of them BIG Americans, boldly prepared to fill those benches.
There already is too little space for me! Should I sit huddled by the door, ready to jump out? No, darn it, that's where the other two are sitting, pretty smugly it seems to me.  Well, maybe I can crab-walk my way to the front and huddle against the driver. I have  a vision of my panicking and flipping over him, probably kicking him in the face in my frantic effort to get out, and then realizing there was no emergency after all. That would be embarrassing! But embarrassing, also, is having to ask everyone in a van to disembark, and fast! so I can get out of the back. I did that once in the first block of a trip from Roswell to Albuquerque. We had to get everyone repositioned and I spent the rest of the 3 hours perched on an upended bucket between the front seats.
Then there was the time I got accidentally closed into the tiny mini-elevator that crawls for t...w...o......whole......minutes....up the Saint Louis Arch. Mercifully, I was with my children and I survived that by praying the rosary aloud, which no doubt provided my children with their own Religious Experience, God help them. Sorry, children! And I just knew the park ranger was trying to torment me by not allowing me to descend by the steps. She sentenced me to t...w...o....more...minutes descent.
My family was wonderful about it, but OK, now I'm in the Philippines, surrounded by strangers in a strange land. We're talking robust and sporty Peace Corps Volunteers who are looking for a good time in town. I'm a little unsure of their willingness to put their arms around me and burst into a rousing decade of the rosary.
I can see some of those big bodies approaching... right toward my Jeepney! Before I get trapped I scurry (if that's what you call shuffling in a half-crouched position with a backpack on) out the door. I take a deep breath. Free!
Once outside, I found out a passenger or two (or three or four) can ride in the front with the driver. That's where I went. I felt kind of sheepish, though, and disappointed in myself. I was going to be here for 2 whole years. Was I relegated to manipulating my way into the front every time? I knew that wasn't even possible. I thought of PCVs in some countries, faced with drinking mare's urine to culturally assimilate and I determined, or rather, hoped, that I could get over this. I just didn't know how.
By the way, Jeepney drivers consider their "Jeep" full when there are 20 passengers in the back! 20! And I'm told the motto is, "There's always room for one more!" I guess my motto would be, "You make me nervous, ride on the top, buster!"
But back to this inspiring tale- It took me 2 months and some  kind understanding from fellow volunteers, but I've overcome the phobia. I've said my prayers to myself as I breathed slowly and deeply and guess what!  I have now ridden in crowded Jeepneys more times than you could count. Speaking of counting, I have counted the passengers and guess how many! 28 is my record and that is with me smack in the middle! Talk about a triumph!
OK, so my next blog will be a pictorial tribute to my psychedelic-looking rides.

November 14, 2011 Windows of San Jose

So interesting and beautiful...I never get tired of looking at them, and I seem to notice the same ones every day. These are just a few of my favorites. I've got to start walking a different way so I can see others. My father, a carpenter, would have enjoyed seeing the construction here. Mama, too, noticed architecture, especially old buildings, and pointed them out.

Windows seldom have screens, so we get the most of the light and the delicious breezes.

This was taken from Taten's house in Batangas. 

Our school fence on the left, I pass this house a few times a day.

PILMES has, as most schools, walls of windows with wide verandas and deep overhangs around the entire building, which provides shelter from the sun as well as the rain. Only in the wildest storms will the wind blow the rain into the rooms. I love the openness, natural light and fresh air. The rooms are filled with outside noise but the pupils and teachers are used to it. I guess I'm not noticing it too much anymore either, but I remember it being very distracting to me in the first days in Colo. (These students were assembled to work on the school newspaper. That is a very serious undertaking for both pupils and teachers, all in Tagalog, so I was no help.)

These graceful "kapis" windows are the older, traditional style. They are made of translucent shells (kapis), set into wooden framing. They slide to open or close. I hope to someday be inside a house with these windows and see what the light is like when the sun shines through. 

My home! The front of the Masilungan, Paglicauan house. Note the M in the grille work.

So many different kinds of bananas here, and so flavorful! I can see why island people I've known have been frustrated by the one type of banana we usually have available in our US grocery stores.

I  enjoy taking pictures, but I am frustrated by my lack of talent when I try to capture the luciousness of the flowers here. Just take my word for it- they're gorgeous, especially when when seen one color after another house after house.

I enjoy contrasting the windows and views here to the ones in my home in Minnesota. It is like a mind game it is so incredible. Enjoy it for me!

Winter, early 2011

November 1, 2011 All Saints Day

All Saint's Day has always been a Holy Day of Obligation, and I'm glad to have grown up with the awareness of the connection to all living and dead, but this is a whole different plane of awareness. For three whole days, October 31, November 1 and 2, the thoughts and lives of the living revolve around remembering and spending time all together with loved ones who are gone to a different realm. For our household this was an especially big day because we've had a death within the past year, so our celebration would be longer and more involved.
Early morning:In the early morning vases of flowers were prepared for all the closest deceased relatives. We also had purchased bouquets.
Mid morning: We walked, carrying about 8 flower arrangements, to the old cemetary. It is like a tight, little winding village of tiny houses for the dead. We spent about 15 minutes at each of our sites, carefully arranging flowers and candles. We would all join in prayers and then pack up the remaining vases and proceed to the next site. We even visited Ate Norma's boss (the Mayor, a good man by all counts).There were hundreds of men, women and children performing these hushed, gentle, ancient rituals. Slowly and peacefully walking among each other. It felt as if we were all just visiting on, say, Christmas rounds, and it just so happened that some were asleep throughout the visit. But the visiting was still so pleasant and you had a real sense of the life of the person you were visiting.

It reminds me of when my son, Carmen(4), cried when we packed up the gardening tools at Grandpa Carmen's grave and prepared to leave. Carmen had thought we were going to dig Grandpa up and visit with him. Little Carmen would have liked this day of all of us being with his Grandpa. (Just for the record: no digging up took place here.)

Maricar, who lost her husband May 29 this year, her niece, Gia; her mother, (my Ate Norma"), and her daughters, Marjery and AJ (April Joy).

 Three days of traffic jams and tricyles lined up, heading to and from the cemetaries, all over the Philippines. I was stuck in traffic for  1 1/2 hours on Oct 31.  
Late morning: After the oldsters were visited, we went back home, loaded up again and headed to the newer cementary, where the most recent interment is. This event reminded me of a day at the Wattsburg Fair when I was growing up. Great food is packed, cold drinks, a tent, maybe a few games or toys and umbrellas. But instead of seeing the horse-pulling contest, we were there to just BE. Our relatives came from Manila for the holidays. You see the cards they are playing? Those are cards I asked Rachelle to send in a care package(from MN). So there you see the cards which Rachelle handled and sent around the world and are now being touched by hands here on this unique holiday.

 Maricar sitting with her husband for a few quiet minutes as the day is ending.

Last good-byes as families start to pack up and leave. We left at 8:00pm. I rode my new PC bike home and the rest of the family loaded kit and kaboodle into 2 trikes. This day will linger with me for a long time... no... forever.      Family life here has drawn more and more of a longing, from me,  to be with my family upon my return. Now I want to spend more time visiting the graves of those who will always be so much a part of my life- of our lives.

ps. Consider this, though. A big All Saint's Day, 2011 at Trinity Cemetary, Erie, PA. Big snowstorm!  Mmmm. Huddled in ice huts with propane heaters hissing. Would it be the same?


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I just tacked these on belatedly because they are so beautiful and interesting. Amy's town of Ibaan, Batangas.

 

These are called apartments, for obvious reasons.

Below- One of the ritzy family memorials. I didn't see such elaborate vaults in San Jose. Amy saw some that had air conditioning and a balcony on top. It kind of reminds me of the burials of ancient Egypt- prepared to party in the afterlife!