Greetings, loyal readers!! Hello to anyone who comes occasionally! Goodbye to anyone who is not here.
Over the last few weeks, I have actually had a ton of REAL WORK to do (scary, isn't it) so I haven't been much of a blog updator. There are designs and proposals and meetings, OH MY! Hopefully at least one of these irons will come out of the fire and bear fruit down the right track to the light at the end of the tunnel of love (too many metaphors?).
Honestly, I think I would put you all to sleep if I started talking about the proposals I have been writing. Instead, I thought I would talk about a few things that really give me a warm, squishy feeling inside. First, imagine that you just had a tray of fresh brownies dumped down the front of your pants. Got it? Let us begin:
- Geckos; instead of scary, evil looking spiders that may or may not kill you (USA) we have lizards very similar to the Anoles that I had in a terrarium in elementary school. Those died for lack of food. The ones here eat every gosh darn mosquito in the place. I love it. It is also incredibly cool to watch them run at full tilt along the ceiling. One would think that they would fall or simply forget that they were upside down and fail to plant that foot before lifting the other one, but no. They are probably the best good luck charm I have found here in this crazy tropical pair-o-dice.
Public Transportation; Let's face it, if you live in the good ole US of Oil and are trying to "live a normal life" without a car, you will be met by strong social, economical and temporal barriers. What I mean is that every aspect of American (specifically Sub-Urban and Rural) life is entirely governed by the assumption that everyone there is comfortable buying, owning, using and maintaining a motor vehicle of some sort. Bus schedules and many peoples' varied workdays and need for daily efficiency make public transportation a joke. Added to this is the food procurement process which, in "America," has been totally centralized to the point where mom and pop shops no longer exist and everything is run through freeways and parking lots and efficient, digitally managed lines. Okay, okay, I said these things would be positive; how are those brownies doing?
In the Philippines, what happens when you need to travel somewhere beyond convenient walking distance (and you don't want to use your bike for one reason or another)? You walk to the road, look at the column of jeeps headed your way, flag one down and hop on for the ride. Even public transportation in the US has to be scheduled and managed to remain thus (ever been yelled at by a bus driver who couldn't wait the extra two seconds for you two get on so that he could keep on his second-to-second schedule?. In the Phils, you walk to the road where you know you can find the route you want and within a minute, usually less, you have your reasonably priced ride and most likely some really bad music and mid-80's posters of Tom Cruise to go with it. There are a lot of reasons that something like this would not work in the US; I will not delve into all of those now, suffice to say that people are stupid and demand that any personal injury liability be put on someone else's shoulders insead of their own dumb-ass (McDonald's Coffee).
If you don't want a jeep and need to go a shorter distance, it is likely that a motorcycle-with-sidecar (tricycle) can take you there with a smile and a small shrine to Mr. J. C. saying something to the effect of "you had better pray that we don't crash, I need both my hands on the wheel right now!" It is also a brownie-esqe feeling when I see that, in a land devoid of phonebooth/volkswagen stuffing contests, they have managed to cram 13 Filipinos and all of their market purchases onto a 250cc tricycle. Good times.
- My third and final warm and fuzzy award goes to any person who I have seen on the street and has smiled back with nothing to lose or gain from me. Walk down the street here. Look someone in the eye, smile and raise your eyebrows a bit to say "How YOU doin'?" and they will respond in kind (though sometimes with less teeth). The kids run up to you and want to touch your hands and know your name. The men want you to get drunk with them at 8:30 in the morning. I have resisted most temptations so far. Everyone wants to know who you are, where you are from and "Wont you come meet my daughter? She is 23, just like you! She wants to go to the US when she finishes her degree!"
On the bad days, the constant attention feels more like an icepick to the nostrils than brownies in the pants, but that is the way Peace Corps goes. Due to the long, colorful, shared history of the US and the Phils, Americans are like royalty here. Everyone in my neighborhood knows my name, where I live, what I eat for breakfast on each day of the week, how many times I have gone biking this week and when is the best time to ask me to join them for a cold one or five (answer, after 12:01 PM).
Warm and fuzzies having been completed, you may now eat your tray of brownies.
