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!

October 30, 2011 Lake Taal and Tagaytay

Magtibays wanted Amy and I to see Lake Taal and Tagaytay. They gathered friends and family and 11 of us traveled in one over hill and dale north to this beautiful country. The trip took about 2 hours. We stopped in Balisong to look at knives made there, called bolos. I got a big, mean- looking one that I often see people using for all purposes, here. When I get home I will have it sharpened for shaving kindling. It will be a practical memento.
Dario and a bolo.
Next stop was Taal, looking at the beautiful historic homes and this church, one of the oldest in the Philippines. This historic town is lucky to be largely intact, as it was a hotbed of activism in the fight against Spanish rule and Spain often obliterated towns of dissension.... Boy, Spain was a tad bossy and temperamental, you know?! Thought they owned the place! Or was that US? (I don't think we obliterated any towns here, though.)

 The Basilica de San Martin de Tours, the biggest Catholic church in the Far East.

Side entrance to the church. Under the shelter to my right you see the area where candles are lit and placed. I got some- they're sold in groups of 3 in honor of the Trinity. Bundles of 3 candles makes for some serious flameage!

One of the miracles here is that I wasn't burnt!

Taal- Famous for fine embroidery and sewing, especially the traditional Philippine men's shirt, the barong.

Then it was on to Tagatay.

Fantastic scenery and three dear  traveling companions (and scholars to boot! ) Paul,  Miguel and Gerrald. Lake Taal fills the caldera of an ancient volcano, the largest in the world. Before it erupted it rose 18,000 ft.  The island in the lake is another, little volcano. You see the cone between the boys heads.

As we were eating and drinking in the views- I know, bad pun- we were approached by masseurs who wanted us to hire them for an hour at the set rate of $2.50! We availed (as Filipinos say) their services for about 1/2 hour.

Martin Magtibay.

 

Is this funny or what? Dario and Martin blowing bubbles. We didn't catch a good picture, but here we are in euphoria with bubbles floating about, and this view:

We hiked down to the base of this hill. It was a very hot day and the hike back up seemed long. (Read: We were drenched in sweat!) About 3/4 way up JJ (3) started mumbling to himself, "hirap" (means hard), a few more steps, "hirap", a few more steps...
Back in the car and heading home.

Rachiel and JJ Magtibay

October 26, 2011 My bedroom.

It's a great, old house. An inheritance from a prosperous, gracious era. It sits snug against the  corner sidewalks, but off to one side is a big yard.

 

My bedroom is the one in the peak. Three sides are outside walls with big windows. No screens, just hefty grates and inside are sliding windows.

So much space around a house in a settlement is uncommon. I had no idea what to expect in my placement. I imagined country, and I imagined town, but I was surprised to find this combination.The big yard full of trees allows the air to move and we have a breeze almost all the time, day and night.
It is quiet here, too. Well, lets qualify that. At 3:00AM the roosters (you can see one in the cage to the left of the yellow bush) flap their wings wildly and split the air and the dogs start barking intermittently. Then the dogs in the neighborhood start conversing. At 4:00AM the church bells start. I count about 50 peals. "Why 50 and why the irregular rhythm?" I asked a resident. Their answer was that the only meaning has always been to get going! Start praying and preparing to come to church.

My nest and my red mosquito net, which I roll up and clothespin to the curtain every morning. At night I pull it down and tuck it under the mattress all the way around.

It's been Christmas time since early September, so Ate Belin decorated with these pillows. (Standing up in the arm of the chair is my big, typhoon-strong umbrella.) Ate Belin also hung fresh curtains for me a few days ago. Many days I walk into my room to find that some nice little change has taken place. The shelves on the left materialized and all my shoes were arranged on them. One day the pitcher and glass appeared on a little tray. They tend to me, wanting to make sure I'm comfortable.

Here's the view from over my bed. The grates are reassuring. It's like sleeping outside, only completely protected. Now look beyond the grates and the roofs...

...this charming antique house. And turn your head to the left, toward the sound of the bells and here is what you see.

The rising sun reflects off them and they shine bright yellow.

So this is what I leave in the morning and what I come home to in the afternoon. I settle down in my bed-corner to read or use the computer and right about that time the daily broadcast of the Rosary begins. It is loud enough to cover all San Jose. Shortly after that the nice little neighborhood bar/restaurant fires up the videoke. It rivals the church bells in volume. We're talking rock band type speakers. This is the background music, and what I hear as I fall asleep. Soon enough all is quiet, and then before I know it I'm once again hearing the flapping of wings and the raspy crowing. Another day!

Publish Post

October 25, 2011 Thank You Note

From Khim

October 21, 2011 Classrooms

PILMES is big and well funded with a dedicated principal and teachers and supportive, involved parents. This is apparent in the wide array of activities available to pupils.  You can also see this in the resources, especially the preschool classrooms. Funding comes from DepEd, gov't officials, such as the governor or mayor and sometimes from private citizens.

Preschoolers wear a different uniform than the one worn by all other grades.

  Pictures of the national heroes are required to be displayed at the front of the classroom. Values and spiritual beliefs are part of the curriculum and are prominent in the decorations. Teachers work very hard to make their rooms beautiful.

Pupils do the work of cleaning the classrooms, They also get on their hands and knees to wax the floor with wax the parents purchase.

Sometimes these "foot mats" are worn to protect the floors.  The fan in the foreground is brand new and was a gift, much needed, from the parents of this class.

Pupils made this reminder for classmates: Please put your trash in this trash bag.

The school doesn't have a library but Ma'am Rachiel is fortunate to have this supply of textbooks.

 She is also grateful to parents for purchasing and installing the bank of cabinets which students share. There are usually several fans, you see two here. The exterior wall on the left is open, no glass, with wooden shutters to close against rain or hot sun. The upper walls are open to airflow, also. This is an historic building from the early 1900's.

This shows about a fourth of our pupils. In the foreground is Ma'am Rachiel's desk. Mine is beyond, closer to the cabinets.

Having fun. Good thing the resolution of my camera isn't better! Between the heat and the fans my hair is wild. Doesn't seem to bother anyone. But these children, aren't they beautiful? While I was, as usual, a sweaty, sticky mess, you see some of the pupils wearing sweaters!