Old Reflections

The other day, when talking with my friend from high school, we thought about what our former selves would think of the people we are today. While our conversation didn't last long, the thought lingered.

I began thinking about the old (younger) Nicole: when people would ask what I wanted to do with my life, I'd answer proudly "save the world." Each moment was an opportunity to teach and affect change: "don't use the word 'gay' like that, it's offensive," or "but what of the impacts on society or the environment?" I left no incendiary statement unchallenged or unsupported. "Opinionated" was a compliment; and I fully earned the names Debbie Downer and Brodie Buzzkill. My enemies were apathy, ignorance and complacency, and the people (especially the women) who stayed silent because they didn't want to offend or, worse, because they genuinely didn't care, frustrated and saddened me to no end.

Today, the shoulder chip has shrunk, and I feel less compelled to prove how unique and thoughtful I am. I've learned that most people don't like to be preached to (including myself); putting people on the defensive only makes them cling tighter to their beliefs; and I've discovered the pointless waste of engaging people who say things simply to get a reaction, looking to provoke an argument rather than an intelligent exchange. Prejudice, apathy, and ignorance are still my enemies, but I prefer to combat them by living my life in a way that is consistent with my beliefs and hope that it may inspire others along the way.

While these are perhaps signs of growth, my former self would likely be disappointed in me--these are excuses for why I've given up the fight... I've been beaten by exhaustion and effectively silenced... one of those sad, cynical progressive do-nothings who tell young idealists, "I used to be like you."--And maybe in a way, she'd be right.

Is there more to my silence than simple maturity? It's true that I do find myself avoiding political discussions that I used to seek out. While some friends still lovingly call me Brodie Buzzkill, with people I don't know, have I turned into a boring pussy-footer who doesn't talk religion and politics in order to maintain polite conversation?

Having deeper philosophical exchanges with people is still a large part of who I am, but it no longer defines me. Once people get to know me, they'll inevitably discover my politically passionate side, and I'm ok waiting.

A concession I will make to my former self: there is a chance that "opinionated" has given way to "quiet" not only because of patience but perhaps because of a newly acknowledged level of ineptitude in communicating my views without coming across as aggressive or abrasive. Maturity has shown me that this is not how I want to present myself, but it has yet to effectively govern my passions.

This conversation with my younger self has made me see (that I may want to seek professional mental help, ) that I should learn how to better communicate, and that I should've been more forgiving to the aforementioned "do-nothing progressives" who remained quiet. Hopefully, the next time she and I talk, I'll have grown more--and I won't need to take lessons from some obnoxious, opinionated 22-year old.

Hawaii Anyone?

(This is a genuine offer of a little financial help for a trip to Hawaii.)

I'm a loyal customer of Continental Airlines. As thanks, they've sent me certificates towards flights. I am not planning any big trips for a while, and I'm sitting on two $100 certificates that need to be used (separately) on tickets purchased before December 2008. I am very willing to give these to friends who want to come out here and could use some financial help.

Depending on how many people contact me about this, I may have to establish some criteria for selection. I was thinking of a 500-word (minumum) essay contest describing why I'm the awesomest, but I'm considering other options.

I've been doing some research, and depending on which month and which days you fly, flights from the east coast and west coast are floating around $500 roundtrip per person. These are good prices! However, Northwest and Hawaiian Airlines have been cheaper than Continental by more than $100, which defeats the purpose of my offer. Again, depending on the dates you fly, this may not be the case.

If you're serious, shop around a bit, and let me know what you're thinking before you book anything.

I've lived here for over three years, and only a handful of friends have come to visit; therefore, I feel the need to offer a little kick in the pants... If you've never been to Hawaii, yes, it's as beautiful as you imagine. If you have, it's as beautiful as you remember. Some friends recently asked me which beach around the world was my favorite... in truth, it's Waimea Bay on the North Shore of Oahu. Even though I've been there so many times, I still marvel at it's impeccable beauty. So, I ask again, Hawaii anyone?

West to East

Since my last entry, my parents have gone back to Connecticut, while I went on to Santa Barbara to visit my long-time friend (since high school), Kevin. After having stayed in a different hotel every night when traveling with my parents, being able to stay in one place for a week was fun and relaxing. Kevin and I used our annual Six Flags pass (yes, we have annual passes) to enjoy the Magic Mountain amusement park and its glorious roller coasters. Kevin especially needed the distraction considering he just finished the most intense test for his graduate English degree at the University of California in Santa Barbara. In fact, his continuously talking about the test was not only understandable but contagious. I think my friends in Portland know much more about the graduate English program at UCSB than they want to.

Portland has been great. It’s really the only place where I have so many friends, in close proximity who also know each other. Considering that I lived here and try to visit every year, I have a good contingent of people to hang out with and always have fun. My friends received some tragic news while I was here, and I was glad that I could be here for them. Despite the bad, there’s been plenty of good, and I should have even more people to see next time.

Hanging out with Kevin and Marah in their and their friend’s apartments, I’m getting a glimpse into what I want and can expect when I start my own search for a place in Honolulu. I love living within walking distance of restaurants, shopping, and friends, I can’t wait 'til it's my turn!

I’ve decided to forgo the cross-country bus trip. A flight was only $50 more than the bus, and I’d prefer to spend the few days with my friends rather than on a bus. I still like the idea of a trip across the US, but it will have to wait.

Next and last stop: New York/Connecticut. At the moment, I have a return flight to Honolulu dated for July 13^th. By the way, I'm looking to use my annual pass again, so anyone who wants to go to Six Flags New England or Great Adventure, I am so down.

Oh Beautiful! (Revised and illustrated)

Since May 27th, a satellite radio-equipped rental car has been motoring Mom, Dad, and me through the national parks of the Southwest US. Road-tripping through expansive deserts and mountains with few signs of modern development seems uniquely, and therefore classically, American. Vast landscapes unfold as the black ribbon of road winds through them, granting us access to these rugged wonders. (See? It makes me wax all poetical!) From California to Arizona, Colorado, Utah, and Nevada--we're getting a solid sense of what the Southwest has to offer, and we are thoroughly impressed. In fact, all of us like the idea of moving to Colorado.

We've visited more than 25 natural parks in 12 days, and each was uniquely beautiful. This trip has been filled with contrasts: only 3 hours of driving took us from the highest elevation (Mt. Whitney) to the lowest (Death Valley);

seeming contradictions: the Mohave Desert was filled with life and color; and diversity as revealed by the towering sequoias, the Dr. Seuss-like joshua trees, and delicate aspen groves.

We've learned how the 50,000 year old Meteor Crater was formed, how trees became rocks at Petrified Forest, and how ancient peoples survived these climates. We've also discovered that in this part of the country, a population of 50 or even 1 is sufficient to put a town on the map.

As expected, we've paid some dues to the travel gods: I have a nasty cough (again), I left my soon-to-be-retrieved ipod charging in a hotel room, and our Garmin GPS took us on an off-road-vehicle-only road almost stranding us in the forest--but all small prices to pay.

Easily exploring these natural and ancient spectacles, and learning of the efforts to preserve them, lead me to an (unfortunately unusual) declaration: I love this country! Anyone else feel like singing "America the Beautiful"?

After a few more days of nature-gawking (Grand Canyon and Zion to come), my parents head back east, and I make my way north along the west coast where I'll then bus it to the east coast. I've been to 32 states so far (this trip added 3), and I'm hoping that the cross-country journey will get me close to, if not over 40. Whoo hoo!

Fijian Lemonade

In a few ways, my family trip to Fiji had a theme that could be summed up by the phrase: when life gives you lemons, make lemonade.

Lemon: On the last family trip with Mom, Dad, Chuck, and Krista (to Alaska), I felt like the rotating third wheel, so this time I invited a friend to balance the group; but my friend didn't come, and I was on my own again.
Lemonade: I had a cabin room all to myself, and I spent more time with the crew and other passengers than I would have, making a bunch of new international friends.

Lemon: My mom changed the type of cruise to a more expensive cultural/historical trip that runs only four times a year. This new price made things harder for my friend to join us.
Lemonade: We visited schools, villages and areas rarely seen by tourists and were treated to traditional shows by Micronesian and Polynesian tribes as well as the expected Melanesians of Fiji; a much more special experience than a normal beach-hopping trip.

Lemon: Our tour bus's tire needed to be changed.
Lemonade: A good excuse to stop and visit the local markets and shops.
Lemon: After we were underway, that same tire spat off all of its nuts which a passenger noticed just in time before the tire came off the moving bus.
Lemonade: We all got off and enjoyed our cruise-provided morning tea of fresh fruit and finger sandwiches on the shaded side of the road overlooking the sea until a new bus arrived.

Lemon: I had a dramatic spill on slippery rocks near a cascading waterfall and badly sprained my ankle forcing me to limp on a cane for four days.
Lemonade stand: Large, well-muscled crew members supported and carried me on their arms and backs; I experienced local Fijian medicine first-hand; and a crew member picked and guided the hermit crab representing my cabin in the ship's crab race and won me a bottle of champagne.

Lemon: My underwater digital camera broke (again). This is the third time I've found myself mid-trip without a camera.
Lemonade: I'm now used to this occurrence and nearly expected it to happen. Now I have less to carry and worry about as I gave Chuck the (paper-weight) camera and charger to bring back to Hawaii. Fortunately, the memory card wasn't damaged, and we have some great underwater shots.

I really don't expect sympathy or praise; after all, how hard is it to make the best of a Fijian cruise with my family? I had a fabulous time, and honestly, the "lemonade" tasted more like champagne.

(Next stop: National Parks of the Southwest including Yosemite, Sequoia, Brice, Joshua Tree, Grand Canyon)

Fooled You!

As many of you know, when I came back from the Philippines, I made the decision to move to Portland, OR. Hawaii's been my base of operations for the past three and a half years, but it's never felt like home the way other places have. Home is where the heart is; and with my closest friends in Portland, New York, and DC, home felt elsewhere. As I've said before (see blog entry "A Turning Point"), my time in the Philippines taught me to be better at connecting with people. That improved ability helped me build stronger relationships with the people I knew in Hawaii--deeper friendships.
I spent much more time in Waikiki upon my return, which showed me that I'm a city person. I need to live where the action is. Mililani wasn't cutting it. Also, having seen a few international cities, I know how rare it is to find a major metropolis lined with pristine beaches; and this one has green mountains on its other side, just to rub it in. I fell in love with Honolulu.
After volunteering in Baguio, I saw how much I enjoy working in the child welfare field and that I'm suited to it. The past two years I've been here, I've built relationships and connections with the who's who in Oahu's child welfare sector. Without a relevant degree or specialized training, these relationships will be invaluable for providing me with at least a chance to prove myself in that field. Anywhere else, I'd have a much harder time of it and would likely still rely on my Hawaii network and their connections to open doors for me.
When I made my decision to move to Portland, I was sure it was the right one; but in the following month, my assuredness was shaken until it crumbled. There's much more of my heart in Hawaii than I thought. I'll begin my search for long-term employment and a Waikiki apartment when I come home in July.

Finally Philippines Photos!

They're almost all uploaded.  I still have one more week's worth to go, but they're coming.  Unfortunately, I'm not allowed to publicly post the faces of the girls I worked with at the Consuelo Home, but I'm working on creating some email-able album of sorts for those of you interested.

Each photo album is listed separately under "My Philippine Photos" on the right-hand side of this blog page (under the survey question of the week).  I'm pretty sure you can navigate from one photo album to the next without having to come back here.  

The Beauty of the Bump

I arrived at the gate just as they were about to start boarding. I was removing my shoes again for the extra-anal security check (not literally, thankfully) when I heard a request for volunteers to be bumped off the flight. I froze. Of course I wanted to stay longer in the Philippines, but I didn't want to undo all the checking in I just endured and have to do it all again tomorrow. Maybe better to just say goodbye once and be done with it. But the thought left me in a daze of doubt: one more day... why not?... they'll give me a voucher and hotel... I don't want to leave. But when they asked again, I was at the counter before the announcement was finished to find out what I'd get for my "troubles." Apparently, it was an update call to Hawaii, transportation from and back to the airport, a $400 Continental Airlines voucher, and a night in the Manila Hotel including three full meals from one of its fine restaurants... or from room service if I felt especially lazy. I learned that the Manila Hotel, built in 1912 is the oldest hotel in Manila; I was told it was a five-star resort. (Just thought I'd let you know that we're not messing around here.) So on Saturday when I wasn't enjoying a gourmet meal, I was by or in the pool with its swim-up bar. Life's tough for the lone traveler with no deadlines. My advice: get bumped.Some of you experiencing jealousy pangs, may take satisfaction in knowing that my pool-side relaxation has resulted in a fascinating and somewhat horrifying new shade of pink for my stomach and shoulders. Yes, I used sunscreen but was hoping the Manila smog would filter enough UV rays, so I wouldn't have to reapply. However, it seems the smog was useless. Why do they even keep it, I wonder... Joke Lang!

A Turning Point

There are a few new habits that I've taken back with me from my trip: eating with a fork and spoon, saying "joke lang" after one of my deadpan deliveries, singing no matter who's around, and hopefully the most permanent will be the way I see the world.
Previously, when I spoke of visiting a country, it was about exploring its natural beauty. I traveled as if going through a museum, and the people I met there were part of the exhibit--members of a collective culture. I was guarded and suspicious of those who'd stare, smile at, or approach me (almost everyone when I'm one of the only white people around). I assumed they wanted to take advantage of me as a "rich" foreigner or as a woman, and I would respond with one word answers and quick glances. But having lived in a country where a simple wave or smile causes most people to light up, my perspective's changed; like a camera lens adjusting, the mountains are now the backdrop to my new focus: the people.
The Filipino openness was contagious. They just wanted to help, and by simply smiling at them, traveling became more fun and easy. The nicer I was to them, the more helpful they were to me. This hardly sounds like the stuff of grand epiphanies, but I didn't get it before. Now, traveling isn't about protecting myself; it's about connecting. Of course, I will still be cautious, but it will no longer block me from really seeing the world.
I don't expect that all countries' people will be as friendly and genuine as Filipinos, but at least I'll give myself the chance to find out. A nervous energy that used to propel me through foreign countries and out of my comfort zone has given way to a relaxed anticipation.
My time in the Philippines was invaluable in countless ways... but I feel this change is going to make the biggest difference in how I live my life.
While I don't want to get all Academy Awards, I do feel compelled to extend a special salamat-po to Danny Urquico, Becky Wells, Patti Lyons, Liza Benter, and all my friends in the Philippines for everything you've taught me. I look forward to our next meeting and hope it's soon.

Sex-Ed by Text Hotline (SET)

My friend Kelly, a Peace Corps Volunteer here, has co-created a Sex-Ed by Text hotline (SET) with another volunteer Aaron Simmons. Below, is her explanation of the program and a request for help. It's a fascinating use of technology to educate and help people, and it's super-cheap to support it's continuation.

SET is a cellphone number that Filipinos can send text (SMS) messages to and get reproductive health & sex-ed information. Here's how it works:

A curious Filipino sees one of our flyers and sends a text message to the SET number. The flyers advertise 'keywords' that can be texted to the number. When SET receives a keyword, it replies automatically (there's no human sitting at a cellphone) with information related to that keyword. For example, if someone texts "hivaids" to SET, it will reply with
Txt hivaids(space)# frm list:
1-wat is hiv
2-facts o hiv
3-effects o hiv
4-wat is aids
5-facts o aids
6-treatmnt
7-transmision
8-preventn9-whos@risk
Then the user can choose from this menu by replying with the keyword. For example, "hivaids 1″. Then SET will respond with:
Wat is hiv-Virus found only in humans dat mainly affects d immune system (d part of d body dat protects u frm disease & sickness)

That's all fine and great, you may be thinking, but what problem is this solving? With nearly %60 of the population consisting of youth and over 2million being sexually active I'd say it's a big problem. Not to mention that sex education is almost non-existent in the Philippines. It's a cultural thing– you just don't talk about sex. (Sort of. While you get bastos (naughty/dirty) jokes that make Kanos (Americans) blush, and amazing amounts of near-striptease style dancing on television, you can't really talk about how it all works.) After all, this is the country that banned condoms in Manila. And where a pharmacist said they don't stock condoms because "we are pro-life". Despite all this, there's (obviously) a huge amount of curiosity on the part of young people. And with looming crises (out-of-control population growth, a pending AIDS epidemic), education about sex is a real need.

By the way, while all this stuff about "texting" may sounds strange to you back in the States, it's definitely not to Filipinos. Texting took off here years ago– its just part of the culture now, to the point that the Philippines is frequently called the Text Capital of the World. (After having lived here for two years, I [Kelly] now have texting skills unrivaled by anyone in America older than 12.)

SET has been up for about two and a half months, and is advertised in Baguio City. It gets roughly 20 texts per day, and has sent out over 2,000 response texts.

Our next big challenge is having SET continue after we leave. CFSPI gave SET a three-month budget to start with, but they are having their own funding issues and won't be able to continue to fund it directly.

Which is where you come in. SET is currently budgeted for php2000 ($50) per month, which is pretty cheap when you think about its potential impact. We've set up a donations page to make it easy, so if you're feeling generous, please send a few dollars SET's way by clicking here (or going to http://www.freewebs.com/sexedtext/donate.htm). A few dollars here (we're talkin' $5, $10, $20) goes a long way. I appreciate any amount you can donate! And please feel free to send this information on to any of your family or friends who might be up for helping out, thanks so much!

You can get more info about SET here, as well as information about CFSPI (the sponsoring NGO) by clicking here.

After Two Months in the Consuelo Home...

Joke lang! I had a face-making contest with the girls, and I wanted to inspire them. Inspirational is definitely the word that comes to mind looking at this picture, wouldn't you say?

(By the way, "lang" means only in Tagalog. I've gotten so used to hearing this way of saying "just kidding" that I've now gotten used to saying it. I'm takin' it back to Hawaii with me.)

Paalam (goodbye)

This trip has been the most rewarding of my life: invaluable experiences, genuine, random interactions with locals, and great new friends. While I won’t be leaving the Philippines until April, the goodbyes are fast approaching.

There used to be more tears, but now goodbyes are a familiar scene for me. I travel, I move, I have friends in the military… these conditions have meant at least one permanent separation from a very close friend every year since I graduated from college in 2003. Sounds confusing, but point is: I've gotten good at this. That’s not counting all the many see-you-laters before my trips or the until-next-times after friendly visits. The last looks at airports, bus stops, train stations—I got used to them. And my friends’ similar lifestyles coupled with the communication technologies of cell phones and internet meant fewer tears all around.

This Baguio goodbye will be a little harder. I’ve made the usual “foreigner friends,” whom, large thanks to Facebook, will be easy to keep in touch with and hopefully meet somewhere and some-when again. But I’ve also become friends with Filipinos who don’t move or travel a lot. This allows for one reunion possibility: I come back… which is not unlikely, just uncertain.

And of course, the goodbye to the girls will be the biggest challenge to my farewell expertise. For three months we shared a house, our meals, our thoughts, our feelings—we’re “ates.” I love them very much, and they’ve made their mutual affections for me obvious. And in this shaky situation, I’ve lost my communication-age crutches: many of them don’t have email, or phones, or Facebook, and snail mail letters will be strained by language and changing addresses. I’m not sure I’ll be able to find them when I return if they’ve moved on to new homes, as is the ultimate goal of the program. So here I am facing my most loving (read: giving) connection to see it become the most severed. So as in the days before farewells were routine, I feel a lump in my throat and water filling my eyes. This one’s gonna be tough.

The Current Plan (explore the Philippines):
Mar. 17 – Sagada, Batod, Banaue (northern Luzon) with other foreign volunteer friends
Mar. 23 – San Carlos (Negros, Visayas) with the Honolulu Rotary club to help build a training center
Mar. 29 – Boracay (Panay, Visayas) with Aussie friend Becky to party as if it were my birthday… hey, wait…
Apr. 4 – Return to Honolulu, HI at 7:30PM, magically arriving a few hours before my departure from Manila. Silly international dateline.

Gratitude

There are few things as astonishing and humbling as the generosity of the poor. Last weekend, I went to rural parts of Naguilian with the Healthy Start program to deliver more formula to underweight babies. The subsistance lifestyle is increasingly difficult as more people move to the cities causing the farming communities to shrink. We met one woman with six children who makes 45 pesos a week--just over one dollar. Before we left from delivering the formula, she insisted that we take a full bag of sweet potatoes and another full bag of green beans. After visiting a half-dozen more families, we had enough fresh, organic vegetables to open a produce stand. It was a little difficult to take food from people who had so little, but it meant so much to them that they could thank us for coming out there that it would have been impossible to refuse.
Foreign volunteers in general sometimes face accusations of pity, superiority, imperialism, ignorant meddling, and declarations of "we can handle our own problems." These sentiments are not entirely unjustified, and therefore, difficult to refute. But all the foreign volunteers I've met here in Baguio have recieved nothing but sincere thanks and praise from Filipinos: "it's great there are people like you," "thank you for what you do," "you have such big hearts"... Obviously, this response makes the whole experience even more rewarding.

Thinking back, it's highly appropriate that the first word I learned (and used) in Tagalog was salamat. It means thank you.

Are You Hungry?

In some ways, Filipinos are like Hobbits: they’re generally content, not very tall, sing a lot, and eat at least five times a day. The word “merienda” means snack and at the Consuelo Home they’re served twice a day between the big meals: one in the morning and one in the afternoon. But the merienda is not unique to CFSPI; fast food restaurants serve merienda menu items which are slightly smaller than other meal deals.

I have stayed (mostly) vegetarian here. While still in Hawaii, I was starting to wean myself off fish; here, once I conceded that I do sometimes eat it, I have found it sitting on my plate at almost every meal: often fried and never de-boned.

The staff and the girls, conscious of my dietary restrictions, will often prepare separate food for me; sometimes too large to finish at one time, but I know that next time there will be a new plate just for me. Solution: eat more.

Not wanting to be an inconvenience at every meal and not preferring fried fish at 6am, I bought cereal, milk, and some other no-skill-required cuisine. However, even when I tell them not to make me food, I still find a full plate at my place. Being raised as I was, I always finish what’s in front of me; and now I have the added task of finishing my purchased food before it goes bad. Solution: (see above).

This past weekend I went on a day-trip with a staff member who was nervous about feeding a vegetarian. Figuring that vegetables were essential and being advised that "we" also eat bread, at merienda time she placed in front of me a pile of hamburger buns, a plate of two large, sliced cucumbers, a squeeze pack of Italian salad dressing, and a block of processed cheese that made Kraft singles seem refined. Honestly, her effort and concern was touching, and the cucumber burgers weren’t all that bad. In fact, the buns were so good, they became a test of my carb-addicted—the plethora of rice here is another issue—willpower to not devour the whole stack, which I, of course, was being encouraged to do.

On a totally separate topic, my clothes seem to be shrinking. It must be the weather or something in the water. If I am gaining weight, I will surely know since Filipinos have the uplifting proclivity towards casually informing others that they’re packing on pounds; so as Kelly (Peace Corps volunteer) put it: “There are two things you can’t get away from in the Philippines: eating and people telling you you’re getting fatter.”

"It's a shame you're only staying three months"

Today, the staff at the Consuelo Home met to discuss the program in general as well as specific girls' cases. I am in a unique position as a someone who is able (not bogged down by paperwork) to simply play games, talk and just spend time with the girls; plus, until this past weekend, I was at the house every single day for most, if not all, of the day--much more than any other staff person. Therefore, my input at these meetings about the girls, their progress, and their needs was particularly valuable. You may have noticed, but I tend to incessently ponder and work through potential improvements of... well, everything; so one can imagine how much the Consuelo Home and its girls have been dominating my thoughts. Today these ideas found their forum, and I offered my suggestions as well as how I specifically would help to implement them. It was in response to these proposals that one of the staff members started chuckling and shook her head: "it's a shame you're only staying three months." Wham! Right to the chest. I've heard this from almost everyone since I arrived, but this was the first time that I really felt its sincerity and gravity. I can see how into it I'm getting, how much I'm willing--needing--to put myself into this project, the deep connection I will inevitably form with these girls, and in just three months... scratch that... two months from now, I'll be gone. And now the staff see it too. I've already toyed with the idea of extending one month (shh, don't tell Danny) since I don't need to be back in Honolulu until mid May (family vacation--very important), but this was the first time I was thinking that maybe I'd come back to Baguio this summer. On the flip side, I should take into consideration that the head supervisor got back just this week from a six-month long leave. And it seems that if she hadn't left, my suggestions would be moot. While I still believe I have a lot to offer the program, perhaps the next two months will be enough time to establish and maintain needed improvements? It's possible, right?

In addition, it should be known that I have recently jump started my social life and set up specific hours that I'm expected to be at the Consuelo Home; so some days I have mornings free, other days I have evenings, and two full days are mine completely. This will be crucial since as I'm taking on more responsibilities, I will need more downtime to cope and unwind; and it will be good to establish some degree of professional distance if I am to be counseling the girls on a more regular basis. Even though I'll continue living in the house, I still feel like I'm "leaving" them (I'm also good with self-guilt) and fear I'm sacrificing my valuable unique perspective. I just need to keep repeating "if I burn out, I'm no good to anyone... especially my girls" --er, "the girls." Professional distance... right, got it. Hee hee

Rockin' the bed!

Last night was my first earthquake! It was so small that no Philippine siesmology websites seem to acknowledge it happened. But at 3:40am, I awoke to my bed shaking and soon realized it was the whole house. The dogs in the area were all howling or growling, but in less than 10 seconds it was over and all was quiet again. At breakfast many of the girls said that they were awoken too.

When Oahu had its latest earthquake, I was in China. I was a little dissapointed I missed it and was (sort of) hoping that I'd get to experience one. Baguio was devestated by an earthquake in 1990, so it would be naive and callous of me to "wish" for one. And now... having felt it... I didn't really like it. The bed was shaking so little that it felt like something I would be able to stop, and thus knowing how entirely helpless I was to do so, kind of scared me. The earth was shaking. That's just weird... and scary.

But I'm fine, and now I can say I've experienced an earthquake. Hopefully, that will be the extent of it... and more hopefully, Pinatubo won't get angry again. (We don't like when Pinatubo gets angry.)

Healthy Start

Today, I went with a fellow CFS employee as she made the rounds to some teenage mothers enrolled in Healthy Start. This program works with new parents to teach them how to raise healthy babies. (The program was largely founded by Gail Breakey, whom I worked with in Hawaii.) They show them games to play, how to interact with their babies to stimulate development and, of course, how to deal with their children in effective, non-violent ways. Today, we were specifically visiting some poor moms whose babies are underweight to deliver special formula that they can't afford themselves but that will hopefully get the babies' weights to where they should be. This mother's older child is in the Healthy Start program, but there hasn't yet been a need to enroll her younger one.

Ates (ah-tays)

This isn't a great picture of me, but what else is new--besides, I had to post something. This is me and "Ate" Liza. She's a social worker and house parent at the Consuelo Home. In this picture she looks young and cross-eyed, but she's 24 years old and does really well not bumping into things. I have a great time hanging out and talking with her. She's helped get me telephonically connected (still working out the kinks) and took me shopping for cheap clothes. Fortunately, she was there to comfort me after I discovered that here I'm size XL by reminding me, "oh Nicole, you're not fat... you're obese." Yes, I can tell we're going to be good friends.

She's also lent me a portable DVD player, so while in my bed I've been able to watch better movies than Power Rangers; although, Aeon Flux is debatable. Perhaps a bootlegged Rambo 4 will up the standard?

An Aside

Ok, so this has nothing to do with the Philippines or the work I'm doing here, but being that I have been a canvasser six different times and in four different states, I had to pass on this article. This will be a comfort to my fellow canvassers to see that someone can articulate so well what it's like, and may be enlightening to those who have never knocked on a stranger's door and for whom we have not been able to adequately describe what it's like. It's long but worth it.

http://www.flakmag.com/misc/canvassing.html

To be rich and beautiful...

Diana is one of the fifteen year old residents. She's been taking care of me with whatever I've needed since I first arrived.

Cute story... Diana asked me, "you want to kilo yourself?" Confused, I followed her pointing finger to the scale on the floor. She saw me laughing and asked, "what is it called?" But my answer only led her to ask, "do you want to scale yourself?" Eventually I told her how to correctly ask that question and "kilo-ed" myself.

Also last night, Jamie and I were keeping Diana company in the kitchen while she was making dinner. Having already been complimented multiple times in a short while, when Diana said, "you're so beautiful," this time I pleaded with a smile, "stop. Thank you, but stop." Jamie turned to her friend and said, "What about me? Am I beautiful?" Daina quickly replied, "no! You have no money." She then turned back to me said, "you're gorgeous..." and put out her hand, "...one peso."

After dinner she continued her questionably sincere flattery to which I now responded, "I'm broke... do you know that word: broke? It means I have no money." Excited by this new useful vocabulary, Diana stopped little 10-year old Nancy in the hall and loudly proclaimed, "I'm broke!" to which Nancy passionately and even more loudly retorted, "I'm broke too!" I'm not even sure if Nancy knew what it meant, but it looked and sounded so funny that we all burst out laughing.

Later on, having forgotten protocol, when Diana said, "I like your hair," I said "thank you." She promtly reminded me, "I don't like thanks. I like pesos." This morning, when she got her allowance, I was sure to tell her, with an extended hand, how beautiful she was.

The Consuelo Home

I'm in Baguio living in the Consuelo Home, a shelter for abused girls. Currently, there are twelve of them, ages ranging from ten to nineteen. As far as I can tell, I'm here to just have fun with them and provide extra attention and care, which I'm so far really enjoying. They like me. They also like my long nose and my height--I'm tall here! And Filipinos, especially the girls, like singing and dancing whenever they can--I'm like a native. In fact, one person already told me that I have a Filipino heart.

The girls call me Ate Nikki (pronounced ah-tay Neekee); it means older sister Nikki. It's a prefix that they use for each other too.

Most of the girls speak English, or at least understand it. I will hopefully be a good way for them to practice, and I, in turn, plan to use them to learn Tagalog. Unfortunately for me, the one who likes to talk the most, doesn't know English. I guess that's just more motivation for me to get on the Tagalog train.

Each day has a solid schedule, and they're all given chores to do. It's the only way to make a house of twelve girls, one staff person, and one volunteer run smoothly. Plus, the discipline and structure is good for them and will make reintegration with their families easier. The ultimate goal is to get them back home. Obviously, not if they'd still be in danger there, which is the case for only one of the girls. For the others, if their cases are prosecuted successfully, they'll be able to go home again.

It's hard to resist the temptation to buy them all books, games, CDs, movies... although, I may have to buy them some new movies no matter what. So far the English movies I've been subjected to are Sandlot 3: Heading Home and Power Rangers: The Movie.

Amusingly enough, the girls thought I looked like the woman who played the character Dulcea from the Power Rangers. This woman had long curly red hair and was dressed in a green amazon woman-like bikini thing! It was flattering, I guess, but so far off that it was hard not to laugh at them. They must think all white people look alike.

Right now, the girls are at church. I told them that I wasn't going because I'm Jewish. Some of the girls didn't know what that meant, so I said, "I'm like Abraham... Old Testament" They seemed to understand that.

Sorry there's still no pictures. I'm not allowed to post pictures of the girls, and I don't know what else to put up. I'll find something, though.

New Beginning

(Note: Sorry for the alphabet soup, but in that way this entry can serve as a primer for blogs to come. I hyper-linked many of them, so you can learn more if you choose.)

I arrived in the Philippines on Sunday night; although, it still felt like Saturday to me. I tried their local San Miguel beer that first night. I figure the best way to get a know a people is to drink with and like them. (I just made that up--like I'd have any idea if that's the best way.) Anyway, it was only one beer, and I was with Danny Urquico the CEO of Child and Family Service Philippines (CFS PI). I had already shared drinks with him in Hawaii, so I can't say this was a wholly unique experience.

However, the next day Danny made sure that I did have unique experiences. He showed me two organizations which the Philippine branch of the Consuelo Foundation (an organization I worked with in Hawaii) funded. First we met a group called Families and Children for Empowerment and Development (FCED). Based on the Healthy Start model which was created in part by Gail Breakey (the woman I worked with in Hawaii), their program aims to prevent child abuse by helping mothers and families as early in the child's life as possible, including pregnancy. FCED took me to a poor baranguay (neighborhood) where one of their family support workers (FSW) was meeting with mothers and their 3-year old children. The FSW was showing the group games to play with their children that would allow them to monitor and stimulate proper development.

For example, kicking balls is important for children's eye-body coordination, but these families are so poor, they can't afford to buy balls. So the family support worker showed them how to ball up newspaper and wrap it tightly in a plastic bag to make a ball. Watching the kids kicking it around was a highlight for me--it was as valuable as a store-bought ball in its effectiveness and was more valuable in its significance and innovativeness for people with almost nothing.

Danny then took me to the Tuloy Foundation's complex for street kids. There they feed, house, clothe, and educate kids from ages 9 to 20 who have been abandoned, abused, or orphaned and forced to live on the street. I was shown around their pristine facilities where kids who were once likely involved with crime, drugs, and prostitution were now learning to fix car engines, wire electricity through ceilings, and repair computers.

I'm not sure what to say about all this without sounding trite or sentimental. It was inspiring to see what's possible when people who care are given the resources they need to make a difference. Obviously, the choice for a better life ultimately resides with those being helped, but at least now it is more of a choice. I am thrilled and privileged to be a part of these efforts.

I am writing this at a stop on the way north from Manila to Baguio where I will be living and working at CFS PI. I'm not exactly sure what I'll be doing there yet, but as I know, I'll be sure to tell you.

I apologize for the current lack of pictures. I do, somewhat shockingly, have a working camera with me... for now. There will be pictures as I become more comfortable with my surroundings and the people in them.