OmigodithasbeenalongtimesinceIwroteanythingformybelovedfollowers!!!
The Unexpected
Last month Juila Campbell, a fellow Peace Corps volunteer and close friend of mine, was killed by some fuckhead up in the Cordillera mountains of Luzon island. Since her death there has been an outporing of support for her and her family both in the US and here in the Philippines (insert some cliche here about being "family" once you join the Peace Corps). I would like to thank anyone and everyone who has taken the time to send any kind of caring message to myself, other volunteers or Julia's family. In this crazy individualistic world we live in it is nice to feel connected to those around you, even if the circumstances are as drastic as murder.
Again, thank you for your loving support and I am sure anyone affected by this tragedy feels equally grateful.
Work
BioSand filters. Let me tell you about BioSand filters.
As you may know from reading this blog, my primary project for the last 6 months or so of Peace Corps has been dedicating all my time and energy into setting up a BioSand filter production facility. The filter itself is designed using slow-sand filtration techniques that have been around for millenia.
Some facts about a single filter to put things into perspective:
- Makes up to 200 liters of contaminated water clean every day
- Good for 10-15 people by Philippine standards
- Requires no electricity or maintenance beyond keeping the outside clean
- Lasts a lifetime once installed
- Costs $28 including transport and installation
For my project UNICEF and the PhilAm foundation purchased 160 filters to be installed in various places around my province. That is up to 2400 people (or 32000 liters of water per day, depending on how you look at it) provided with safe drinking water for the forseeable future. That is fucking amazing.
The thing that is not so f'ing amazing is the amount of work that requires. Production, coordination and installation of all 160 filters has taken 3 months so far and is not over yet. Every day I go with the workers on a truck to take filters to where they need to go and convince people that I am not selling them black magic.
Fun?
What do I do for fun? I hang out with cool european aid workers and learn about why I should go work for the International Red Cross and move to Darfur. I go to the sites of nearby volunteers to escape election-related violence. I listen to the baby next door cry like he (she?) has every night for the last 6 months. I read a lot. I am actually learning to cook for myself; I can make a mean chicken curry if you ever feel a mite' peckish and want to drop in for a bite.
Random Thoughts?
This is where I come up with some kind of clever anecdote to leave my readers stunned and amazed by the lengths I will go to sacrifice my mental health and personal well being to help the needy of the world. Unfortunately for you readers, it is not that simple. There are a million things that go into making a good story but honestly I can't remember any of them. I heard on the radio once that it was about timing or something....I forget.
I don't know what it is about the culture here (and the nature of cultural differences is such that I probably will never be able to fully understand why people different than me act the way they do, though I can tolerate it without an issue) but names are a bit of a joke. When a politician in Mindanao, the area best known for its fruit and, oh yeah, Islamic extremists, names himself Osama Bin Laden, you know there is something a bit strange taking place. A grown man, not just any man, but a person RUNNING FOR ELECTED OFFICE, named himself after that bearded Saudi we all know and love.
Some other funny names (real names) of people I work with or have met:
- Boy Mayor; running for mayor of Legazpi City
- Flo Canada; a woman in my office
- Cindyrella Donghit; again, in my office
- Purification; just a first name, I can't remember the last, but it doesn't REALLY matter, does it?
- Bossing Boy; running for mayor of the town of St. Domingo near me.
A Story To Send You Off With
To give credit where credit is due, this did not actually happen to me, but to a fellow volunteer named Noah (the only person I have ever known to seriously compete in a rap battle against a Filipino and not do too poorly).
Noah was in the group of 15 volunteers, called a "hub group" that trained down here in Bikol with me. Noah is Jewish.
During training, all volunteers lived with host families and Noah was no exception. He ate, slept and shat in the same house as a lower-middle class Filipino family. These host family stays were designed to slowly integrate us into living in the Philippines and help us become more culturally sensitive. Of course as a host family, you basically had Matt fucking Damon just move into your house (Americans are quite the showpiece here). As a host family, you would be likely to ask all kinds questions to make sure the American felt welcome in your home:
- Where do you live in the US?
- How old are you?
- Do you have a girlfriend?
- Do you eat rice?
- You know already how to speak our dialect?
- WHAT RELIGION ARE YOU?
This final question was posed to Noah
"I am Jewish," he said, Jewishly.
"What does that mean? What do you believe in?" said his host mom.
"Well, as a Christian, you read the new testament and the old testament. We Jews just read the old testament."
"Oh, so you don't finish the book!"
And with that, I bid you good evening (even though it is probably almost breakfast time for most of you).
