Tarsier

Tarsier

Thursday, November 7, 2013

Howdy Half-Way Hysteria!


If it was possible to be more down and out than my last post, I was for a few days after our Mid-Service shit show, but now I have popped back up again and am slowly but surely morphing into my old cheery self…maybe just lacking a bit of my old optimism. I had a good laugh yesterday thinking about if whenever we squished something it went “nooooo” very softly. This is actually why I rarely kill bugs, because I feel guilty, but I thought about everything I do squish…definitely mosquitos…pimples…clothes into my backpack…Filipinos on a crowded jeepney…my pillow…trash in the trashcan…ketchup packets…Mariz’s cheeks…and imagining it all saying “noooo” so gently put a smile on my face and made me happy. I know I am a weirdo, and I am proud of it.

I eventually had to say goodbye to my German compadre, but we had one last adventure hoorah at Koo Koo’s Nest, the weekend before he left. This place is one of the most beautiful places I have ever stayed… with jutting cliffs coming out of crystal blue waves, coming right up to the hammocks, or “hang mats” as Martin would say, and …icing on the cake = a family of 5 gorgeous golden retrievers! Mom, dad, 2 brothers and a sister, all were stunning! They also had a small and chubby mutt named sausage, poor outcast… I miss cuddling with clean and healthy dogs very much, so this was a rare treat for me! Koo Koo’s nest is so secluded; you can only get there by motorbike for about 45 minutes on twisty turvy dirt roads with stunning views. I highly recommend it. This is also only a little over an hour away from my town, in the middle of nowhere. They only have 6 cottages, and we were the only people there besides staff the whole time. It is run by an adorably quirky older British couple, who laughed at me when I said I taught English… rebutting that I teach American, which I was a little offended by at first, but that is actually so true… We went snorkeling at the reef right off the coast, play wrestled with the dogs, body surfed (leading to a new scar from coral attacking my leg). It was a breathtaking and dreamy weekend vacation from reality. It was just so easy to talk with Martin for hours…about any and everything, this made me realize even more how unconnected I was with Daniel (who, by the way, already has a local Filipina girlfriend… so predictable, but we will get to that later). If you have ever seen “Before Sunrise,” the experience of Martin and I was a lot like that… but lasting for 3 weeks. It was hard to say goodbye, but romantic in ending on such a high, before we actually realized what each other’s flaws are. He went back home to teach in Germany, and I went back to my hut to bathe with a bucket and attempt to teach and inspire my students back in my reality. Our paths will cross again though…
Me & Martin
Me & The Pooches at Koo Koo's Nest
Hang
Mat
The Buglasan festival was in Dumaguete last weekend. I hung out with the new Peace Corps peeps and listened to a lot of live music, ate McDonald’s, and me, Jen, Chris, and new Charlie passed out in the same bed. This seems to happen a lot with us…it has been coined “party bed” and to be clear, it is always fully clothed and innocent! Probably can be psychoanalyzed by our consistent lack of any desired human friendly affection. Everyone has to smoosh on jeepneys and buses, and co-teachers will latch on and lean on us all the time, but that is uninvited… very different. Everybody likes a little snuggle and needs friendly physical contact, which is rare for us. And we are weird. I know. Masskara was the weekend after that, right before MST, it was also lots of fun, even more fun than last year. Us ladies had an afternoon of wine and cheese that really felt like we were in another place…gosh I miss cheese.
Buglasan 2013: We <3 Dumaguete
We so classyyyy
Masskara! If you couldn't have guessed...
My Bestie and I in the masks I made!
Masked Madness: Larry, Karla, Chris, Dave, Hillary, Me
On to MST, or our PC Mid-Service Training. This was a whirlwind of emotions for everyone. Karla, Hillary, and I stayed in a room together, and at some point each one of us burst into tears about some problem. I never used to burst into tears. The conference was essentially a waste of time… maybe its purpose was to raise morale, but I am not sure how effective it was. We did a lot of activities about our emotional health and how our work here is going, I was for sure one of the more upbeat and positive people at this point. I have such amazing students, that they really shine above the negative aspects, and I really am doing exactly what I cam here to do, but it was interesting to see where everyone else is at.

If you are wondering, I suppose I should add that Daniel and I avoided each other the best we could throughout MST… not easy when our batch has dwindled from 71 to 50 something volunteers. I was happy though that he did not show up to most of the big group fun activities…maybe because his “friends” invited me instead of him, or maybe because I can act normal in a group, when he can’t. I have never had this awkwardness with a person, and I hate it, so I had the idea of trying to talk things out civilly the last night. Bad idea. Started out fine and fake with small talk, he mentioned his new large back tattoo and Filipina girlfriend… then as soon as we started talking about our issues and both of our mistakes towards the end, he blew up and walked away, proving again his immaturity and failure to accept any responsibility for wrong doing…but at least him running away gave me closure. I did feel a little bad for him, it was obvious to everyone at the conference that he has lost most of his friends, and the people he does still hang out with were overly nice and complimentary to me... which was strange…kinda made me wonder what else I didn’t know about…and of course, I am sure his isolation and need for someone to be constantly reassuring him lead him to jumping into a relationship with a local. Good luck with that. It only upsets me because he treated me so poorly in the end, and I feel bad for the most likely naïve and innocent girl (or maybe she is very clever and only really wants a ticket to America…says my Dauin Filipina friend) Not my business either way…and I need to stop being childish and wasting my time even thinking about it. I will be indifferent soon enough, but it is hard when I still feel so strongly that he is an inherently evil person with many screws lose in his head. Anywayssss, he won’t be mentioned here again, and wish me luck with that indifference thing…

So “Stache Bash” is a Peace Corps tradition. The men grow out their beards as full as possible, then sculpt them into amusing shapes and create characters. It then turns into a somewhat beauty contest with these crazy characters. We had it on the first night of MST, Hillary and Jen were the MCs and it was quite amusing. I think there were 10 or so contestants and Chris ended up taking the title of Stache Bash 2013 King as his Stanley Kowalski character, a Chicago born asshole, loosely based on Hunter S. Thompson’s Raoul from Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas. It’s funny that everyone used to think Chris was shy… everybody was chanting his name after this performance. He was also named MST MVP after his Talent show stand-up as the same character. Proud of my buddy! The talent show was actually full of some real PCV talent. We had a Balinese dancer, beautiful Russian hymn, step team, magic show, lullaby, and more, I am proud to say Negros had by far the most participants. Obviously, our island is the best. The volunteer in Manila, Bex, was brave and read her moving poem that shows the realness of Peace Corps life that is not seen in the happy Facebook photos. Here it is titled… “My Rose-Colored Glasses”

I arise to a world which is not mine to claim. I put on my disguise.
My Rose Colored Glasses.

The smell of burning rats transforms into stretched silicon, much like the smells from a red balloon animal, sounding like the friction of skin to rubber.

A frame of a sick child squatting and hovering over her uncontrollable bowl movements quickly is replaced by a game of leapfrog.

She plays in her defecation, creating finger paintings of her hopes dreams.

My smile shall remain as radical as the environment. My fear will be covered by tightened facial muscles and of course my Rose Colored Glasses will remain in place.

A young boy with special needs has not been given the time to be taught to clean himself, he’s been given a lonely confused life…but with my Rose Colored Glasses, his kisses and hugs are sweet and longed for. My Rose Colored Glasses allow me see his wrist watch. My hand is his to hold and so is my time.

The clinging sound of pesos being bet on two small children surrounded by a crowd of adults. The last one standing will win.

My eyes refuse to see such ludicrous.

My Rose Colored Glasses see a team of supportive adults cheering for a bright future.

I seek refuge from the human baha in a neighbor’s house only to find the epicenter of the earthquake.

My fear at night turns into the weight of the ocean. Air supply is limited. Breaths become fast. Inhaling toxins and exhaling insecurities. This ocean has become my safe place thanks to My Rose Colored Glasses.

My Rose Colored Glasses see my acquired weight as strength and courage. My ocean has become fluid and warm.

Gun Shots become celebration sounds of fireworks.
Shabu crystals become gems.
Battered wives become battered cookies.
Drunken men become colorful clowns.
Rows of caskets become windmills.
Dead bodies are given second chances.
TB & HIV are just apart of the alphabet.
A simple fever is not a death sentence-only a hot fire of passion burning from within.
People are people, not 1,2,OR 3.
A hold up victim is held up to reach higher.
a crying child is crying out of joy from love and not hunger.

When I am brave. I remove my Rose Colored Glasses. I look down at that crying child and I am surprised to see no other than myself staring back at me.

I hand her My Rose Colored Glasses.”

Peace Corps life is hard. This is a third-world (I don’t like that term) or developing country. Like I have mentioned before, I rarely talk about the tragic things we see because people don’t like to read about that, and it is very personal for me. Just remember, my Facebook photo facade is not nearly the whole story. To lighten the mood… I will also include here Hillary and my original song, remade from John Lennon’s, “Give Peace a Chance”, that we performed for the first act of the talent show…

Everybody’s talkin’ bout
Rainin’ and quakin’, floodin’ and shakin’,
Constipation, dreaming of bacon, project creating,
Plans and hearts that are breaking,

Chorus “All we are sayinggggg, is give peace a chance”

Everybody’s talkin’ bout
Projects that fall apart, trying not to lose heart,
Punchin’ your counterpart, struggling from the start,
Thought that poop was a fart, now I’m sittin' on the bus in my own shart,

Chorus “All we are sayinggggg, is give peace a chance”

Everybody’s talkin’ bout
Doing our VRF, trying to be the best,
Livin’ with no sex, but some Peace Corps incest
Joyful then depressed, bipolar like all the rest!

Chorus “All we are sayinggggg, is give peace a chance”

Everybody’s talkin’ bout
Holdin’ your tether, brave this bad weather
We may still get wetter, but it will get better
Like a big block of cheddar, we’re in this together!

Chorus “All we are sayinggggg, is give peace a chance”
Giveeee Peaceee A Chanceeeeee!"

Every act ended up winning some title, I think we got “Best original song adaptation,” and won some Hershey’s chocolate. Peace Corps Staff were our judges, so many other American treats were the prizes, including Velveeta Mac & Cheese = Gold. Besides the Stache Bash and the Talent Show, other nighttime activities included PC drinking games, a home-made power hour, a rare heart to heart with few PCVs and our PC country director, Denny, an awesome documentary called “Searching for Sugarman,” (go download music by “Rodriquez”) and a big group hotel room chika chika rant where we all mocked and complained about annoying Filipino mannerisms and culture… it would be amusing to see a group of Filipinos complaining about our American annoying mannerisms and weirdness. Our last work session was uplifting and turned into a dance party, putting all of our depressed selves away and bringing out positive and optimistic vibes to keep on keeping on! We really are a bonded pack of stone-cold weirdos. I know that I will be friends for life with many of them. Most of us are doing really amazing projects and working really hard behind our community’s love and support because of our integration.
Some Sirs of "Stache Bash 2013"
One-Year Down: Visual
MST MVP: Mr. Stanley Kowalski
So, Halloween is not really celebrated here, it is All Soul’s Day, and most of us went to the cemeteries with our host families last year, so this year we decided to dress up in the city, even if we looked ridiculous to everyone else…and we did. I was Jollibee’s girlfriend. Jollibee is the most popular fast food here, and I ate it for lunch, then made memorabilia out of the cup, bag, and napkin. We had a fun night out, party bedded again at the Australians’ house, then hiked up to the Twin Lakes the next morning. Fresh, beautiful, mountain air. Much missed and majestically lovely.

School has been busy like always… one of the requirements for this grading period is that each of the students writes a research paper. This becomes a dilemma when half of them have no idea how to type on a computer or do research, so we are starting completely from scratch. I looked at papers from past years, and almost every one was obviously copy and pasted from something on the internet…so we also talked all about plagiarism too…which they had never heard of before. A few days later now, and I am waiting patiently in my hut for the Super Typhoon Haiyan to hit, international name Yolanda, we will no doubt lose electricity and water for a few days... but my family is equipped with flashlights and 20 cans of sardines…and my lizard, moth, and cockroach companions will keep me entertained. Not even a month after the epic earthquake and now another dangerous natural disaster threat. This typhoon is projected to be worse than the one last year that killed over 1000 people. No wonder the Philippines can’t make any progress when they have to deal with so much inclement weather, shifting tectonic plates, and erupting volcanoes. I have to admit though that I am enjoying the free quiet time to update this blog, read, paint, and not be around screaming obnoxious children. As I am trying to write this blog, I am realizing how much of my previously witty vocabulary I am losing by speaking Visayan all the time. I am actually forgetting English words… it is depressing, even more so that I am supposed to be an English teacher. After braving this typhoon, I am counting down until I return to the U.S. and my family/friends for Christmas and New Years. I am really trying not to wish the days would fast-forward away, not a good way to live, still trying to cherish every day here with my students and host family, who both really do make this a rewarding experience and waking up every day with more nighttime sneaky spider bites worth it, but I am hoping the break at home will give me new inspiration and reincarnate my former deceased optimistic worldview…and not lead me into a mental breakdown. Time will tell.
This is a giant jackfruit we plucked from a tree... not a dinosaur egg...

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