Guano Galore

Time is whirling by and it is almost summer! Good thing about that = break from school, fun camps, travel to the hanging coffins and rice terraces, bad thing about that = sweltering heat with no chance of escape. I am finishing up the school year with a few cool activities... not literally cool… I wish. Thanks to you all, I now have the funds to run the Girls Leading Our World GLOW Camp at my school with 80 girls from all over Dauin… looking forward to that in April, but boy is it a lot of work and chaos planning everything for it, Hillary and Jen will be my only PC helpers, because I want DNHS teachers to do most of the facilitating, so they know how to run it next year when I am long gone!

I also took a few of my students on a successful field trip last month. Have you heard of “One Billion Rising?” It is a global event to spread awareness and stop violence against women and children. I remember hearing about it back in college when I saw Vagina Monologues on Valentine’s Day, since then, people all over the world have been participating in gender empowerment on V-Day each year. After cutting through miles of red tape and writing a bazillion letters to Dep Ed, I finally got the approval to take a few of my female student leaders on a field trip to attend the One Billion Rising event in Dumaguete, the city not too far from us. We left around noon on V-Day decked out in our pink and ready to dance for a good cause! The girls and I had practiced the flash mob dances several times at my house a week before the event. Good thing too because we got our own stage in the park! Probably just because we looked so darn cute and knew the dances, but the girls really loved it. Bangon babae bangon! I also had each of the girls make a poster of what they wanted to “rise” for, and they had some great thoughts.

Glee Clubs song dedications were also a big success this year. These kids are the best. Cute cute, young love. Prom was okayyy, my shoe breaks on the way over, my purse breaks once I arrive… I am pathetic. Also, it’s frustrating that I am still not used to teachers calling me fat and telling me that I am lonely just to start conversations… but that is the Filipino way! I have been having crazy stress and heat induced dreams too, like murder mysteries (probably due to watching 3 hours straight of True Detective) and running around this giant mall that my brain created to escape some psycho, only to find a small corner that morphed into Robin Williams’s secret office, and there he was just lounging and talking on the phone being his wacky self… so strange.

I went up to see Hillary for a mental health weekend a while ago, if you could have guessed, the 8 hour bus ride did not rectify my mental health issues. A man was throwing up… people kept sardining themselves in and flinging stray vomit off their own hands… luckily I snagged a seat early on and out of the splash zone. No one would give up their seat for this really pregnant lady, and I was squished back too far to help out myself. The way she was standing though, her big belly was actually on top of this guy’s lap who was sitting down… very weird looking, and it got even weirder when her other child starting rubbing the belly slowly. Oh Philippines. Once I arrived in Bacolod though, the journey was well worth it. Hillary, Dave, me, and Filipina Tif bouncy jeep rode to a natural hot springs in the mountains. It was a tad smelly but actually nice since it was raining. There must have been thousands of giant bats flying around above us…  guano galore on the floor. That sounds like a good song title… guano galore, on the floor, on the floor! We also ate Indian food, drank wine, and played cards against humanity with roaring laughter. Very good times, and just what I needed to cure my perpetual grumpiness and detestation of all human existence… well the cure should last for a few days more anyhow.

Sayang = Sad                    ...but tasty

Yes, those are BATS... hence guano galore on the floor.

Yes, this random stuffed creature gave me nightmares.

Two of the new newer volunteers, Rocky and Charlie, got Negros Oriental tattoos. The first regional themed tattoos that I have heard of, maybe a little impulsive, but just another thing that proves our island is the best! The tattoo is very cool. It is the periodic table symbol for Nitrogen (which is what we breath when scuba diving,) which has the atomic number 7 (the number of Negros oriental volunteers in their batch) and the atomic weight of 14. somethin somethin (the number of all of us here in neg ori) and a nice ORIENTAL inscribed under the symbol, worked out pretty nicely.

I though up a “create your own society” group project with my students, they had to choose members, write laws and punishments, make a flag, sing a national anthem, etc… some funny things came from it. One of the groups named themselves the “Neuter Mcees,” I asked if they knew what neuter meant, and one boy yelled “without sexual organs!” Okay…little weirdos. Another was named “Marlarky Baloney,” and an all girls society were “BTCHES” for Break The Cassanovas Heart Elite Society. Some of the funny rules: “We don’t bully each other, we bully other people together.” “No Korean fans allowed.” “Punishment for breaking news” instead of breaking rules. Other punishments included the electric chair, and being put in jail with a frog or another annoying animal. These kids kill me.

Lovin this book right now! "Brevity is the soul of wit.'"

This was the final page of a student's dream scrapbook. Sneaky.

I was asked to write about my host family experience for the Peace Corps website, here is what I wrote…“Who would have thought that at age 24, I would have 3 great families, one American by blood, and two Filipino by heart. I have been beyond blessed by becoming a part of both my training host family and my permanent site family, who I am still living with after 1¾ years. Both families have blown my mind with hospitality and love, but my first made the biggest impact back in my culture shocked and overwhelmed state. My host siblings lived in Manila for school, so my host mother, Nanay Alma, took me in as one of her own, who just had not yet flew the coop.  She taught me all there is to know about living in the Philippines… how to wash my clothes by hand, how to make coconut milk (every step from plucking down the coconut to grating the meat with a special tool, to squeezing out deliciousness,) how to use a tabo to bathe, cultural interaction advice, and so much more.  She was my mother at the times when I needed it the most, like making me herbal remedies when I got sick, teaching me the language, constantly looking out for me, and giving me a much needed daily hug. The biggest highlight was on my last night with that family before moving to my permanent site. The whole family threw me a surprise going away party with all my favorite Filipino foods, and they sneakily invited my 3 best Peace Corps friends and my PC language teachers. Still the biggest surprise of my life was walking into the kitchen on that night and seeing a giant homemade tarpaulin with a triple life-size picture of myself and about 15 other pictures of me with the family along with an adorable message. I felt like a movie star… it was even better 10 months later, when I brought my American family to visit my original host family… and guess what? Yes, another surprise tarp, this time with all of our faces superimposed on animations. Those tarps are fantastic remembrances, but the memories from that family and my current family are what really leave the true impact, prove that I belong here, and continue to make my Peace Corps experience unforgettable.”

Next up: Dauin GLOW Camp and other summertime sweaty adventures!

Spectacle of Sinulog

Remember the giant paint throwing festival from last year? Well… this Sinulog festival was that on steroids… add thousands more people... and a loose tiger… we will get to that later. We had heard it was the craziest festival in the Philippines, so of course we had to check it out, and it definitely lived up to the hype! Jen, Chris, and I took the overnight ferry, about 7 hours, to the island next door named Cebu where this infamous festival takes place. Not the best idea, but we survived. This ferry ride was what I imagined it to be like for immigrants traveling to Ellis Island. No kidding. There had to be over 600 people on this boat… bunk bed types with each person getting one little vinyl sticky mat to sleep on. We were sardine smushed together, freezing winds when the tarp blew off, loud excitement and crying babies throughout the night, thank goodness my ticket was to sleep next to Jen, because we were almost on top of each other since we also had to keep our backpacks on the beds for security (not like there was any other open space for them to be stored anyways and they provided adequate pillows), all part of the adventure right? Yes, what we thrive on, and it was so worth it for the festival in store for us, an insane combination of intensely religious folks and families mixed with young liberal Filipino heathens… coming together in masses to celebrate, dance, parade, drink, and attend actual church masses, haha.

Makeshift Chinese New Year! Stolen Manila photo.

Night Ferry

The festival’s purpose is to commemorate the pagan origin of the Filipino people, and their acceptance of Roman Catholicism… what other reason to drink and party? The word “sinulog” comes from the Visayan adverb “sulog” which roughly means “like water current movement,” it describes the forward-backward movement of the Sinulog dance…which we observed and participated in countless times. In the 1500’s the Portuguese explorer Ferdinand Magellan arrived and planted the cross on the shores of Cebu, claiming land for Spain. He presented the image of the child Jesis, the Santo Ninyo, as a baptismal gift to the rulers of the island, hundreds were then baptized to the Roman Catholic Church. When Queen Juana received the image, she danced with joy and was said to have brought it around to cure the sick and rid demons. This is thought of as the first Sinulog. Hence… everyone of all ages now dancing constantly holding up their baby Jesus idol statues every year all over the country! Sooo funny looking and wonderfully adorable.

Santo Ninyos!

So funny. Stolen photo. 

Awesome depiction of Sinulog. Stolen photo also.

We watched the religious processions with thousands walking down the extremely crowded street holding their dressed up baby Jesus dolls above their head, I still can’t believe how many different statues exist and how proud people are of their own little guy. To get the full cultural experience, of course we had to check out the heathen town as well. It took us forever to get there walking through the crowds, but again, that is all part of the experience, and it was just as we had imagined once we arrived… countless loony dancing people all drenched with colored paint, charcoal, and rum. A young man welcomed me to the festivities by a pleasant “pit senyor” greeting, then poured an entire beer over my head. This did not feel at all like the Philippines than I knew. This was a show of wealth and privilege… being able to throw away alcohol!?! My town would be so disappointed. “Pit Senyor” is addressing the baby jesus (Santo Ninyo), and patron saint of the festival. Throughout the weekend “pit senyor” was a greeting exchanged between everyone and the basic lyrics to the song that played not-stop for over 72 hours… It literally is used when requesting good fortune for someone in a prayer. So back the tiger… and giant python. On the busiest street of insanity, where people were zip-lining off a giant building, and where parades were held, which we did not even get to see because of way too many people and zero space to move, there was a drugged up tiger just hangin out on a table to pose with for photos. Ugh… so sad and sick… and people were draping themselves in pythons for photos. I was not a happy camper seeing these poor animals, but someone fed me a beer and I got over it…

Moment of Impact

Revelers

Jen, Sam, Me, Hil, Chris - Super Sinulog Crew

Alcohol is actually how most Peace Corps volunteers deal with depressing issues in their countries that have no chance of changing, but that is a whole nother blog! Calm down now, it is more of a joke than serious… for most of us.

I fell in love with the big mall in Cebu, Ayala, it is brand new and has such beautiful architecture and felt just like America! They had a café where every dish had some sort of chocolate in it, Hillary and I drank spicy dark chocolate goldschlager and white chocolate raspberry martinis!?! Yes please! Greek, Thai, and indian food? My goodness yes! It also had my favorite Filipino store, which I thought was only in Manila, Artwork! They turn local art pieces into clothing! I really dig Cebu. Our hotel room was splendid too. Of course, we had to party bed it up again. The 5 of us (me, Hillary, Jen, Chris, and Sam, who lives in Cebu) fit perfectly in the 3 twin beds that we manually pushed together. I love these people so much. They are all so weird, funny, witty, brilliant, adventurous, and awesome. We had soooo much fun together just playing around, talking, doing some acrobatics/karate/wrestling/flying in our room, and constantly amusing ourselves.

We are cool.

You're doing it Peter!

I just had to spend an extra day with my best buddy, Hillary, by ourselves before heading back to the busy miserable school haze, and to avoid the bus terminal insanity the day before. We chika chikaed like usual, and went to a lovely little butterfly sanctuary owned by the cutest lovely little butterfly obsessed man. Good times. The next day, it took me 2 buses and a short ferry to get back. Our bus actually got on the ferry… more like a barge. They instructed us all to get off the bus so we wouldn’t drown if we went down. The barge was really swaying while we were walking up, and I felt like I would be smushed any second by the massive 4-wheelers I was sliding in between to get to the top of the boat. Aye yai yai… all part of the adventure. That was the end of the weekend Sinulog spectacle.

 

My one and only.

Lapu Lapu, who killed Magellan, made completely out of dead butterfly wings.

Upon returning to school, I smelled a foul smell while sitting at my desk. This is a usual occurrence living in the interesting smell filled Phillys, but this smell would not go away. When I eventually opened a lower drawer of my desk… there he laid, a belly up stanky lizard. Ew. One of my students noticed my disgusted face and came over to take care of it. I also had fun grading my students’ future perfect tense “dream scrapbooks.” See the picture below for one of my favorite pages. There was some crazy nostalgia as I smelled a certain glitter glue on some and saw burnt paper used for aesthetics for others. Remember when we did that for my project, Dad? Oh, to be a kid, all so simple then. Memories… misty water colored memoriesssss…

It still seems to be hellish days next to spectacular days. I had a bad cough for about a week, probably induced by the party bed and beer sharing, and was about to punch the next person who told me I was sick because I go to sleep with my hair wet. So many Filipino superstitions…but first of all that is ridiculous, second of all, stop knowing that I go to sleep with my hair wet stranger! I had to buy some toilet paper and snacks from the mall in Dumaguete one night,  pretty standard, but I had a pleasant encounter when a nice boy held my bags for the entire bus ride. I was last to get on the bus, literally jumped on in motion and sunk into other peoples’ skins. For some reason, that one time, people were very helpful!

I love my sisters, I do. I complain about them all the time because they are annoying spoiled brats sometimes, but they do some pretty cute things every so often. The other day they took turns brushing my hair, and Nicole in perfect English says “when the light strikes it, your hair looks golden.” Adorable. She also gave me a surprise artwork drawn with cockroach repellant chalk on my door…. Mariz thinking it was normal chalk drew on my face with it… burned a little, but I survived. She then proceeded to tell me if we were ever fighting, she would draw a crack in the heart to make it broken… Another weekend, I took them swimming with floaties… also speechless and priceless, and we swung on a swing, they had never played on swings before and were afraid! Blew my mind.

Roll Out

TEXAS Representin!

So with all this talk of festivals and shenanigans, I want to walk you through my average day… which is actually about 80% of my Peace Corps experience, but not what I usually write most about. I wake up at 6 AM (I wake up at 4 AM and 5 AM from the roosters cockadoolding/dogs freaking out/and pigs being slaughtered/ every day, but I manage to fall back asleep until I have to get up at 6. I eat my breakfast of rice and corned tuna, morningdaydream about delicious unattainable brewed coffee, and head out for the 5-minute walk to my school that has our flag ceremony at 7:15AM. (if I am super grumpy, I will skip this and show up after just before my class) The kids stand in line, sing the national anthem and school song, and do some morning exercising to whatever poppy song is popular.

My first class and highest performing is at 8:30, so I have a bit of time to get ready for it. They made me giggle most days, they are so smart and hard-working. My desk sits in the library that Cathy and I created, and we both hold our classes there. Since another teacher left the school, I have classes non-stop until lunch, including 7^th grade now, so I have to create a totally separate lesson plan. I eat lunch from the school canteen because someone decided I had to (most all other PCVs go home for lunch! I only live 5 minutes away! I am not bitter…) on good days I have fish soup and kalabasa veggie with rice, on bad days “meatballs,”(which are actually pork fat balls) with rice. I eat in the library so students have a place to come hang out and read or chat, if I did go home, it would stay locked and unused, so that is a benefit. Next, I have classes straight after the other until 4, quite stressful when students are also coming wanting to check out books, but, there is no where else for our classes to be held. New classroom construction is happening now. My last class is the lowest level, loudest, and most troublesome. They suck out every smidgen of my energy, but they are also probably my favorites. I give them some credit too because they have also already had 7 different classes that day and are super sweaty and tired themselves, and I am yelling some foreign language at them. School lets on around 4:30-5, whenever the principal pleases. How my students respond to the lesson affects my mood drastically, along with if I can avoid seeing other teachers who will always make-fun of my appearance or force feed me something unpleasant tasting. Some days I work really hard on a lesson that completely looses the class attention and fails miserably, and other days I work really hard to think of a creative interactive lesson, and they love it. Depends on the day…my mood…and their mood. I really have tried to detect what makes the difference, but it still feels like just luck.

If it is Wednesday, I look forward to my weekly skype date with my parents (Pretty sure I would go insane without it.) Thursday, I have Glee Club, which is a bit of work but always fun, and the students adore it. If it is Friday, I have yoga for the teachers. Then sweaty, exhausted, and tainted with my own mixture of student and stale Allie stench, and if there is no special dance that must be learnt for any upcoming event, I head home, either feeling useless or successful. Mariz, Nicole, and dogs Pepper, Bobby, and Budoy greet me daily, along with the 5 stray cats that try to claim our yard. Some days I allow the girls to come into my hut, every day they anxiously wait for the verdict of open or closed door, but about every other day I lock the door and drown in my own sweaty sorrows to work on the lesson for the following day until family dinner which is always a surprise… could be my favorite chicken curry or my not-so-favorite, native chicken bones or “bulad” very fragrant dried fish. Who shows up is also always a surprise, could be just us 5, or any of the 20 other neighbor relatives. After dinner, I either chat with my host mom Joy, she loves to chat, or retreat to the safety of illegally downloaded reality TV or hardrive movie, while on special occasions, drinking wine out of the bottle in my hut. Then I wash myself with a tabo out of cold water in a bucket…still goosebumps every time… and maneuver into my surprisingly cozy, but far too small, mosquito netted bed. Such is my life, the life that I chose. Tomorrow is another day.

Too cute for words... kids up for adoption at Casa Miani in Dgte... anyone interested?

Reading Day

That is my butt. I think those are mosquito bites.

Catouflage... hehe.

One final plug for money! Help support gender development in the Philippines by donating to my GLOW (Girls Leading Our World) Camp this April! Most of our school funds are going towards construction projects and new chairs/tables since so many are falling apart, so we are needing a lot of help in funding GLOW this year. Any amount helps, and the more money raised, the more girls get to attend the camp! Look back at my last GLOW blog to get a refresher of everything we covered and all of the fun! Also, be watching for the next blog covering our One Billion Rising event to end violence against women and children, and Glee Valentine’s Day Song Dedications, where proceeds will go towards a much needed feeding program for my high school!

Click HERE to DONATE to my GLOW Camp 2014!

No Matter How Far Away You Roam

So, I have made it back to home sweet smelly Philippines after my dreamy Christmas Texas adventure. It was more magical than I could have imagined. I had been missing my family so much with all of the typhoon chaos, school stress, and extreme loneliness/seclusion feelings lately, and skype just doesn’t cut it. My journey began with a 10-hour layover in Manila until my international flight to Guam. I did some research and found out that the Mall of Asia checks bags for free, so I deposited my junk and did some exploring. I stumbled upon their weekly Christmas light parade, where I saw fireworks shoot out onto the unsuspecting audience…no one was hurt just confused…poor planning MOA. Suing would no doubt ensue in America, but the Filipinos just relocated to a safer spot without a word. Next, I grabbed myself a Krispy Kreme and made way for the over 20-hour journey ahead of me, consisting 2 more connections in Guam and Hawaii…very long and windy airports if I don’t say so myself, and my substantial backpack did a number on my bod. It was the most strenuous flight and travel combination of my life, but so worth it once I ran into my awaiting family’s arms! Literally nothing beats just hanging out with my three favorite people in the world… my brother, mom, and dad… we are a kooky foursome indeed. Why would I ever give up that precious time and move to another country then? Keep on reading…

Roll Out. Auto-timer.

Stunnas

My first meal request was my dad’s famous “Steak Don,” it is filet mignon topped with a scrumptious Dijon and green onion special sauce, delicousssssss, and gave me fiery poop for days… no surprise, I had not eaten anything that rich in a year and a half. I devoured more cheese and beer over this vacation than I think I have ever in my whole life... and I don’t regret it one bit, just what I needed. Bro Matthew and I had our usual sessions of watching Maury and family feud, but he was on his school break too, so most of his time was spent with his girlfriend, Ophelia… Ohhhh to be young and in love… He even missed our family foursome’s traditional finger food Christmas Eve dinner… when he got home, we all just fell asleep watching Arnold Schwarzenegger in “Jingle All the Way”… not proud of it.

In Heaven

The First Supper

Annie's Tree & The Ladies in Red

I did a few throwback activities like attending a game of my old high school’s boys basketball team and golfing with my dad. The time with my family surged by way too fast, before I knew it, my best girl friends were arriving at our Texas house coming from Colorado. It was wonderful being with Rachel and Mackenzie again, felt like we just picked up where we left off! We spent a lot of time watching trashy TV, drinking wine in the hot tub, and girl chika chikaing, wouldn’t have had it any other way… My parents were more than generous in taking good care of us (keeping our bellies constantly full of food, beer, wine, laughs,) and getting us tickets to this big New Year’s Eve Party in the Crystal Ballroom at the Rice Hotel in Houston. It had an all night open bar, 1AM breakfast buffet, and sells out early every year. It was spectacular! There was a live band, DJ room, and countless drinks a flowing. Early on in the night, we did get called transvestites by a wee drunk blonde sorority bimbo… most likely because we are all 5’10 and were in heels, leaving her stoutness only coming up to our boobs. Jealous bitches be trippin! We were amused though and after my minor out-of-Philippines freak out of initial rich white people overload… the rest of the night went splendidly… well for what I remember… and we 3 walked heels in hands but fully intact back to our hotel. As you can imagine, it took the next full day to recover… the few years have taken their toll on our previously awesome college alcohol tolerance level… and burritos were probably not the best choice for our subsequent breakfast.

Moment of smushing reunion

Spoiled.

Boat Time

Cruisin

Tomfoolery... dad was not impressed...

Yikes...

My Lovelies

Crystal Ballroom NYE Houston 

Beauty, Love, and Smores

My parents took us girls and my brother out on the boat one chilly afternoon, it was crisp and beautiful. Our new lake house really is spectacular, the most gorgeous home I have ever seen, in my book, and it was quite the vacation for my girls, who got to stay in the mini “casita” guesthouse. Before going out on NYE, we put on girly cleansing face masks, enjoying Rachel’s chocolate one the most, which looked like she had fallen face down into a large cow patty. After our New Years recovery day, we drank my favorite almond champagne with my parents and made smores in the fire... it was just lovely, and I definitely had a reflective moment of how happy I was to be alive and how extremelyyyyy blessed I am in this life… which goes back to answer the former question of why would I ever leave all of that to move across the world? Well… that is just it… I don’t hardly deserve my overly convenient American life I did nothing to earn it, and just because my parents worked their own butts off putting themselves through college, and my mom being the most hardworking human I have ever encountered (and overly concerned for the feelings of others above herself)… should not mean my life should be plush by default. 1 in 8 people on this planet now do not have enough to eat; there is no reason why they have to suffer through that while food is plentiful for the other side, but that is the cruel reality we live in. One of my goals in joining Peace Corps was just to experience a different kind of life with fewer amenities for a minor chunk of my hopefully long life. Little did I know how many amazing people I would meet, Filipinos and PCVs, people with such concern for humanity and lust for living, and I never thought I would feel such a part of two other foreign families, here in Dauin and Subic. I tried to give back more than I received… but once again, I guess God had other plans. Why wasn’t I born with zero human rights because of being a female in Yemen, or taken from my family at age 8 to become a child soldier in the Congo, or born into a village of Somalia where genital mutilation is inflicted on 98% of young girls? It is not fair, the world is not fair, and I am extremely indebted.

On a lighter note… My favorite memory of the trip was when Mom, Dad, Matthew, and I went bowling. I can’t really describe why it was so fun, but my bro made some preference that turned each of our faces into characters and would show a weird action scene with our characters on the big screen every time we took a turn. More amusing than you can imagine for some reason…Another pleasant memory was when Mom, Dad, Matthew, Ophelia, Rachel, Mac, and me played Cards Against Humanity… yes, that same inappropriate game that I played with my deranged Peace Corps friends before. Playing it with my family took it to a whole other level… my stomach pained from hilarity combined with awkwardness. I also loved playing our family’s version of crazy rummy with my friends and granny Annie, putting up Annie’s Christmas decorations with her, and eating at “Just Mac” for tons of mac and cheese versions with my buddy and ex-college roomy, little miss Momena. I will be missing all of the flavored coffee creamers and scrumptious coffee at my parent’s house…endless Mexican food…. the wine cellar…and the most, Dad, Mom, Matthew, Annie, and friends… but those things will all still be waiting for me after these 9 months of the homestretch. Living back in that luxury reassured me that I need to finish out strong, enjoy the new family/friend relationships, and make the most of my last months here in the Philippines… after all, I am able to go back home into that lifestyle… but the majority of people in the world will never experience that easy of a life.

Lots of Just Mac! Plus a panini...

Awkward computer generated bowling scene

The most awkward.

Maybe not.

Boot Scootin!

After a flight cancellation (after boarding) and two days past schedule, I finally made it home to my own familiar nipa hut, only to be awoken the next early morning by little children yelling my name from the trees outside. Crazy kuyas climbing trees. Welcome back to the Philippines. I slept the whole first day back and had some insanely colorful zombie warfare dreams. Now the following day at school, I am realizing even more all of the things I still take for granted. I had forgotten how freezing the bucket baths are when it is raining… how I can’t throw my toilet paper down the toilet… how it feels to have 5 mosquitoes sucking my blood at the same time… how much fiery poop hurts, again… how many hours and sweat it takes to do laundry outside by hand… living in a fishbowl and never having the indulgence of privacy. But was it all worth it when my sissies Mariz and Nicole jumped on me from excitement upon my arrival? Hmmm, to be announced… haha, give me a few more days, I just finished sweating profusely after painting all their 20 nails with my awesome new and time consuming magnetic silver polish. I also forgot how funny my sissies are, how adorable and hardworking most of my students are, how much love I feel for the other PCVs, how sweet the mangos are, and how my happy days are so unbelievably worth the teaching obstacles and distance from my American loved ones. I am here for a purpose. I passed out all my pounds of “pasalubong” or traveling gifts, the other day to my family, teachers, and students, and hid a few jolly ranchers and oatmeal cream pies for myself in a secret stash that won’t stay secret for long. I came home to my entire hut having been turned upside down, cleaned, and rearranged… that is very Filipino and was expected. Tampons moved to front desk display and underwear hidden somewhere in the fabric made taped back together dresser. I will never understand it.

I missed my Peace Corps and Filipino friends more than I thought I would. My Peace Corps peeps and I share a bond that no one besides other long-term volunteers in the Philippines can ever understand. I really missed their dirty jokes, venting, smelliness, party bed, etc. Our next big adventure is the Sinulog Festival in Cebu City. Cebu is the largest city under Manila and this festival is in honor of Santo Niño, like the festival I went to in Subic last year, but much larger scale and more chaotic. We are squishing 7 people in a room because the prices are outrageous, I had to be Peace Corps mean girl and tell a few people they couldn’t join because we had too many people… which is the truth, I booked early now everything is sold out, you snooze you lose…

Sissy Forever Love

All in all, it is the reality check I knew it would be coming back to the Philippines and being reminded how people can be happy with so little and not caring what else is out there in the world, not knowing any different than life in their small village with intense family ties and no global interest… do I feel pity for them or jealousy of them? I am still figuring that out for myself.