Conspicuous Foreigners

It is now that magical time of year in the Philippines, as the rainy season comes to an intense, floow-prone conclusion, when the white people come out in force. All over Bikol there are sightings of Peace Corps volunteers participating in civic activities and generally helping out their fellow Bikolanos.

Three weeks ago, anyone wandering by the Shell station on Magsaysay avenue at 5:30 AM would have seen several Americans doing their duty by getting up before dawn to ride their bicycles 100km. Senator Pia Cayetano has put on what is called the Bike for Hope every year for the last 6. This year the ride was from Naga to Legaspi City.

Becky, Aaron, Francis (a local TV talk show host) and I joined in the fun and took our sweet-ass time getting all the way down to Legaspi. This trip was Francis' first bike ride over 1 or 2 km so a trip of ~50x that was a new thing for him. We all ended up with sore butts, but hanging out with a senator was worth every painful day for the next week or so.

Plus, for the Php300 entry fee we got a delicious lunch and free bike jerseys and a gift pack.

What is in a bike ride gift pack, you ask? Not what you would expect, but useful nonetheless.

(1) Package of high-calcium powdered milk (with pictures of ole people on the front)
(1) Can of generic energy drink
(3) Packs of shrimp-flavored cheetos knock-offs
(1) Blue plastic bracelet signifying something
(1) Package of ramen noodles
(1) Tube of pain-relief cream
(3) Cans of vienna sausages

Makes sense to me...


Getting pumped the night before



The senator making us dirty Americans look better




Ready to go




The Route!




Francis on his last legs




The heroes taking their victory lunch

Official website of the ride:
http://www.cayetanofoundation.com/bfh/newslist.php?cmd=reset

2 Tales of Fun and Adventure

Point A to point B

I find it is easiest to relate to people outside of Peace Corps in terms of things in their daily lives that they take for granted. Ease of travel is a BIG one.

Going to a restaurant with family can be a bit of an emotional ordeal sometimes but the actual transportation is relatively easy.

Insert ass into vehicle. Turn key. Depress gas pedal. Obey traffic laws. Enjoy food. If you are a bit cheaper you can take a cab or the bus; probably air conditioned; probably not filled with pigs or chickens.

In the Philippines there are many modes of transportation but all of them belch large quantities of noxious fumes and none of them have seatbelts or obey traffic "suggestions." To get to the same family-style restaurant from above requires a bit more bravery.

Cross road while dodging the multitude of high-speed transportation barreling at you. Flag down jeepney. Clamber inside after stepping over sack of piglets on the way to market. Squeeze your butt in between any two people with more than 6 inches of bench between them (not an exaggeration). Watch the road through the front window that has more area covered in decals than is actually translucent. Bang on the roof and yell for the driver to stop when you see your destination. Climb out over the 3 cockfighting roosters that were just brought onboard. Breathe. Eat food. Repeat.


What about much longer distances? If getting to a restaurant was hard, traveling cross-country to get to Boracay, the expensive beach resort that Cancun WISHES it was, seems daunting. Although there are 2 airlines in the Philippines, I decided that boats are much more entertaining and took nothing with me but a map and a machete as I headed off through the islands surrounding Legaspi.

A basic itinerary of my travels looks something like this:
1. Van to city - Php110
2. Jeep to port - Php7
3. Fastcraft boat to next island - Php360
4. Large 4x4 across island - Php90
5. Extra passenger fare on fishing boat - Php600
6. Bus to city - Php75
7. Jeep to van terminal - Php7
8. Van to Port - Php65
9. Boat to island - Php25
10. Tricycle from port to hotel - Php10
Total one-way travel budget - Php1349
Currently that is $33.64 for 250 miles of travel by the seat of my pants (and in only 10 easy steps!).

Unfortunately, this table of statistics can only do so much for a your understanding of how wonderfully uncertain this trip was. Let's look at the line item 5, "Extra passenger fare on fishing boat;" but first, a little preface.

While on the 4x4 (number 4 in the budge above), I met a family going home for the weekend from the big city. A father and his three teenage daughters (let's call them J-1, J-2 and J-3) were sitting next to me on a pile of cabbages and, almost immediately after departing, they asked me who I was, why I was there, what my cellphone number was, and where was I staying? (This line is bolded for effect, but when three teenage girls coo in unison, it is hard not to remember without the emphasis). I told them I was going to look around the port area for a pension of some kind and they said that simply wouldn't do.

2 hours of bouncing down a rainy road later, we arrive at their house where I was treated like some kind of low-level royalty. Food was placed in front of me; I was asked to sing some videoke songs for them; the ubiquitous Filipino drinking circle found us at the bottom of two large bottles of brandy. Considering I didn't know any of these people 2 hours prior, they proved most hospitable hosts.

The next morning I awake early with the intention of connecting with the passenger boat that supposedly leaves this port with regularity. No such luck. 30 minutes of hunting found no passenger boats of any kind. J-1, the eldest daughter seemed excited at the prospect and, seeing as the next ferry didn't leave for 2 days, DEMANDED that I come back and stay a second and third night at their house. I saw flashes of Indiana Jones-style outlaw romance in my head and ran for the nearest fishing boat. With a good deal of haggling in a language I only half-understood I managed to secure myself passage across the adjacent strait although, the captain said, I would have to wait while they traded some fish. Seeing no reason to stay in this bear-trap of a port any longer, I jumped on the boat with him and we headed out to sea.

The transportation I had managed to secure was a courier ship that received its load in the open ocean from two other boats (one filled with a fresh catch and one filled with ice to preserve said catch for the journey ahead). The exchange was an ordeal of sounds and smells as one boat was emptied of several cubic meters of hand-caught fish. After 2 hours of trading we headed seaward and were blessed with perfect blue skies, cottony clouds and calm seas. The first mate cooked a pot of the fresh catch and we ate delicious, hot fish cooked in garlic and onions with our hands as the boat treaded on. Once we ate I used the map in my guidebook to introduce the captain to the idea of triangulation and how, based on the position of the islands around us, we could tell approximately where we were and how far we had come. We came into port and I bid the crew farewell as I headed on to my next adventure.

I am still getting text messages from the eldest daughter "mis u alam mo parang na in LOVE ako sau"

Tale 2: New Year's Eve and Couchsurfing

New Year's Eve on Boracay Island. Crazy. It was a party with drinking, dancing, singing and many other forms of debauchery that need no mention here.

Couchsurfing, on the other hand, DOES deserve a round of applause for the good it does for the world.

(Begin shameless plug)

Couchsurfing is a website/social network that connects people who need someplace to crash but don't the dough with people who have a place and want to meet some crazy-cool travelers. "Social network" in this sense is much more accurate than the way it is used to describe Myspace and Facebook. In Couchsurfing you actually MEET people and have real interactions. Users are ranked based on how good they are as house guests/owners. When you "friend" someone on Facebook or Myspace, little or no judgement is passed and little social interaction beyond, "SWEET PARTY LAST NIGHT BRA!!!!11" is ever had.

I stayed with a Filipino family in Manila on my way back from Boracay and I have to say that living with someone, albeit briefly, from an area you are interested in visiting is a MUCH easier way to learn about the quirks of the city than simply getting on the big bus marked "Metro Manila Bus and Mall Tour, 100 Pesos Lang!"

(End shameless plug)

This second story is not really up to my usual standards, but click on one of the two following links to entertain yourself more:

Pictures from my travels TO Boracay

New Year's Eve Funtime Partypics ON Boracay

Ferrocement Tank and Rainwater Harvesting Training!

Hey there! I just blew in from Pamplona and BOY is that rain harvestable!

Last week, I went to the next province north of me and had a grand old time building thin-walled concrete tanks with a bunch of other water and sanitation volunteers.

Ian, Lee, Alan, MAriah, MOria, honorary Wat/San Tom, myself, and all of our various Filipino counterparts, under the direction of the fearless Kiwi mixed and poured concrete in the almost-pouring rain. Fun times!



A ferrocement tank is basically a cheap way of making a large-volume concrete water reservoir. The tank is used, in this case, to catch rainwater so that the people near this school don't have to walk a half-kilometer to take a drink.

It is round because circles have all kinds of NEATO physical properties. It is made of concrete because, let's face it, concrete is about as awesome as a bucket full of ninjas. It reinforced only with tie wire because engineers like to show off how cool they can be by using minimal materials and still having a casual conversation on a 3" thick roof:



"But Paaage, I know all that and I want to be able to make one myseeeeelf."

"Slow down there, little lady, and let me walk you through the process."

First:
a) find or make a tank-shaped mold made of rebar
b) divide the mold into sections
c) wrap each piece in rice sacks
d) re-assemble into something resembling a giant beehive
e) fill mold with tallest volunteer in Philippines for the amusement of the Filipinos "Oh! He is very tall!"


a) find or make a tank-shaped mold made of rebar


b) divide the mold into sections


c) wrap each piece in rice sacks


d) re-assemble into something resembling a giant beehive


e) "Oh! He is very tall!"

Next comes the concrete:
a) Stand around while other people mix concrete
b) Pour a circular base with tie wire embedded
c) Watch with glee as your boss mixes concrete
d) Plaster the outside of your beehive (making sure to remove honey first)


a) Stand around while other people mix concrete


b) Pour a circular base with tie wire embedded


c) Watch with glee as your boss mixes concrete


d) Plaster the outside of your beehive (making sure to remove honey first)

And then you build some more:
e) Cover concrete with vertical tie wire
f) Place concrete like you mean it
g) Wrap horizontal tie wire (looks kinda like a giant bug-zapper)
h) One more layer of concrete!
i) Remove form from inside (I hope it's not too big...)



e) Cover concrete with vertical tie wire


f) Place concrete like you mean it


g) Wrap horizontal tie wire (looks kinda like a giant bug-zapper)


h) One more layer of concrete!


i) Remove form from inside (I hope it's not too big...)

And then you do a victory dance:

a) Get a pic with the army detachment sent to guard against any kind of full-frontal assault on your training.
b) Place small female volunteer inside concrete shell
c) Take a picture with counterpart for posterity
d) Take a CU/CSU rivalry pic for the heck of it
e) Go get loaded and celebrate


a) The guy next to me was known only as 'Nades


b) Place small female volunteer inside concrete shell


c) Take a picture with counterpart for posterity


d) Take a CU/CSU rivalry pic for the heck of it

e) FUN CENSORED BY THE FORCES OF CULTURAL SENSITIVITY

Ingat kamo!

Island Adventures from Far, Far Away

Let me tell you a little story about a place I know.
I got back from there about a week ago.
It’s in a category by itself.
Just above the continental shelf.
With a machete and a sidekick too,
I went exploring on Rapu-Rapu.



I had a plan to go help some folks,


By cleaning water and telling bad jokes.


We swam in the falls and forded the streams,


And were consumed by our sweat in the dense jungle steam.


We trekked and we hiked and we saw water sources,


But broke every hour for the day’s many courses.


Some people drink water straight from the river,


While others use tubes of bamboo to deliver.


We ate many odd foods and had too many laughs


But honestly, I could’ve taken more baths...


Come rain or come shine we’d make our way


Each beach to each beach knowing not where we’d stay


This woman is rolling some betel-nut for me


And this banana-sized spider hung from a tree.


For Elmer, deceased, I write this short poem


For the hat that he got me, I guess that I owe him...


RIP Elmer Casillan (1958-2007)
Father; friend; co-worker; goofball.

PenaFrancia Festival, Naga City

As usual, I have new pictures posted from my trips. Rapu-Rapu Island and PenaFrancia Festival are the recent additions.

Festivals are, in general, a good time. Religious festivals are, at least in my alternative-reality view, usually an awkward event. I don't believe what the christian masses and, as such, cannot appreciate the spiritual impact on the lives of so many people. In my more judgemental past, I thought it would be impossible to enjoy a religious festival simply for what it was because I did not share the values of anyone else attending.

Friday, fellow PCV Jarod and I biked 100km up to Naga city through the pouring rain to kick off the weekend with sore legs and the mental significance of having made our own pilgrimage. After 5 and a half hours of sitting on a seat and cranking our legs up and down, we finally made it to town and felt like, if the festival was a disappointment, at least we did something that weekend.

The party had been constant all week, but all events culminated on saturday with what is called the fluvial procession. Every year for the last 300 or so, Naga City has had a christian celebration where 2 large, metal icons are carried around the city by a rather pious mosh-pit. Once the icons reach a river at the other end of town they are then boated back to the church from wence they came on a barge towed by hundreds of canoes. It is quite the spectacle and, since I missed it last year, I was looking forward to seeing something as significant for a large percentage of my fellow Bikolanos.

We watched the first of two icons pass and be attacked by countless people who wanted the good luck that comes from touching this symbol of christianity and Bikolano-hood. I took pictures and watched people go crazy. When the second symbol passed, I ran down, charged through the crowd and touched the hulking metal burden.

Some may say that my difference in belief is enough to make my participation in this event a mild blasphemy, but I disagree. As with most traditions that have been handed down, generation to generation, their true meaning and intention becomes lost and they are more of a cultural phenomenon that unites a group. Although, in my mind, metal is metal and physical contact with a symbol has no reason to change me as a person, simply being involved in an event that the people with whom I live and work is enough to make me feel like a more culturally aware person. Everyone I talked to about attending the festival and touching the icon thought it was a good idea and encouraged me to experience this spectacle first-hand.

Enough pontificating.

Me in Naga. Icon passes by. I touch icon. Icon is placed on boat. Boat is brought, quite conveniently, below my hotel balcony. Pictures were taken. Connectiveness was felt between myself, other volunteers, and Bikolanos alike.

Good times.

The best part about Peace Corps

There are many reasons people join the Peace Corps. Some join for resume building, some to save the world and some for good ole-fashioned escapism. We all have different motivations for being here, but there is a certain feeling of understanding that we are all looking for deep down.

I recently went to an island; you may giggle because the Philippines is known for 7,104 of those but this island is special. It is called Rapu-Rapu and is within an exceptionally poor municipality in a down-trodden and typhoon-prone province (Albay)in a neglected and forgotten region (Bikol) of the Philippines. We are installing water filters there. 50 BioSand water filters will be donated to this rural, poor area.

Instead of having the trained artisans of the BioSand filter production facility install them, I thought that people would care about the filter more (treat it better, and be more likely to use it correctly) if they installed it themselves.

So I had a training. Training of trainers is the crux of being a Peace Corps volunteer. You impart the ability to teach skills and information to locals who will teach it when you are gone (sustainability).

Normally, when you give a training in the Peace Corps, it is likely that the people who attend do so more to listen to a tall white guy (Halangkaw na puti!) speak and be funny in public than actually learn what you are trying to say. There are usually one or two people who think that what you are doing is a good idea and only one of them isn't too shy to let you know how they feel.

This event had been postponed a number of times: Weather, Protest Rallies, Absent Attendees, Fiesta. All of these factors finally worked in my favor on this particular weekend and I travelled to the island with a smile on my face. The venue was prepared and the people showed up (REALLY; A BIG DEAL!!!). The weather was BEAUTIFUL. My training materials were completed and fully prepared!

Begin.

A woman whom I work with "Ate [ah-tay, meaning 'older sister'] Flo" and I gave a presentation on water and sanitation and how, if you drink contaminated water, you are most likely eating someone/something else's poop. That went well, people asked questions.

I presented the BioSand filter. They liked that.

We installed 5 filters and taught people how to do it themselves.

And then the smile on my face got big: one woman from the people's organization I was working with stood up and started answering people's questions. She had just learned all these good and bad ways to live and be healthy and now she was relating these to her fellow citizens. She understood me. She not only understood me, but she believed me enough to take the initiative and explain it to those around her after less than an hour!

In case my punctuation does not make this clear enough, this is a very good thing.

Given the number of times that people don't listen to what you say or really appreciate that you are trying to help them, having someone teach/do/listen/understand what you tell them of their own free will is amazing.

We are returning to this island soon with the rest of the 50 filters for the poor and down-trodden of that area, so the training these people recieved will be put to good use in the near future (ideally, they will take responsibility for the installation of the next 40). Pictures to follow soon.