Local politics turns ugly

I think a sign of acclimation to the Philippines is coming to terms with the fact that at some point every day you will become smelly, sticky and sweaty.  In the beginning, its easy to get upset about this, but after awhile, it just becomes a normal part of the day.  Sometimes, it will happen on my short walk to work and on less humid days the feeling will escape me until a little after lunch. Smelly, sticky and sweaty.  Its just reality, nothing more.

Yesterday, I had the opportunity to witness local politics in action here in Lagonoy. To set the stage, let me explain that Lagonoy once had a public market.  First erected in 1927, it stood pretty much as is until a fire completely destroyed it in 2011.  Since then, vendors (farmers, fisherfolk and the like) have been selling food on the sidewalks of my town.  The mayor's office, the planning and engineering departments have developed a proposal to create a modern public market at a cost of 80m pesos.  Yesterday, I went to a public hearing where representatives from these departments explained their proposal to the townsfolk.

I imagined that people would be excited about this opportunity for growth and development.  What I witnessed was almost theatrical.  The covered basketball court was packed as the details of the project were being unveiled.  Feasibility studies demonstrated the need, architectural drawing unveiled the concept, and the planning department explained how the project fits inside of the Local 10 year land use plan.  Suddenly a smartly dressed woman approached the table and took an available microphone.  An attorney, she began to lambaste the proposal claiming that the project could not possibly cost 80m and that there must be horrible corruption afoot!  Next, an older man wearing army fatigues (a former city councilman) took the mic and began complaining, yelling about the same thing.  As he was laying the mic down, he collapsed on the floor.  Was it a heart attack?

Fire and rescue people, police rushed the man and carried him by arms and legs to a chair nearby where he was fanned to consciousness.  No doctor appeared... no blood pressure check.  No water.  Apparently, the gentleman had become so worked up that he fainted... or feigned to faint (my thought).  Before long, he rose from the chair and walked off. Well, you can imagine the attention this raised in the crowd!  The meeting had become completely undone!  But the meeting went on.  and on.

All told about 3.5 hours of attack.  Brutal accusations.  It became obvious that there is complete suspicion regarding the role of government in big projects like this.  And these feeling are well grounded in history.  Corruption is rampant here.  Even the Vice President of the country is involved in a huge corruption scandal that has rocked the national administration.   It just goes to show you how difficult the job of development actually is.  How can a rural community grow in the absence of a public market?  The need is painfully obvious, but the presenters chose to focus on this, the demonstrating the NEED rather than the real issue: How to justify a cost of 80m pesos for an open air public market?

Why, in proposing this to the public, didn't the officials have the foresight to demonstrate just how the 80m would be spent?  No budget was presented.  Was there some other public market in a part of the Philippines that had been developed sometime in the recent past?  What was the cost per square meter of that project and how did it compare to this proposal?  How could these government officials fail to appreciate the opposition they would get?

When I spoke to someone afterward, they claimed that they were expecting this outrage.  That those who were asking all the demanding questions were from the opposition party to the mayor.  And while I can believe that... I am still struck by how ineffective their preparation for this political attack actually was.  Political theater.. a tragedy.

Fleeting moments

Uncertainty, trusting in faith, moving forward one step at a time.

So amazingly the bus to bus to plane to taxi to port to ferry to motorbike to hotel went off without a hitch.  After reaching Cebu, I quickly met up with Carlos and after a wait of a few hours we boarded a fast craft ferry to Bohol.  It was a long day but we ended up in a place called "The Chill Out Resort" in Panglao.  It was a strange feeling, being driven down the road in a motorbike without the faintest clue where I would lay my head.  The feeling reminded me of travels across Europe so many years ago, with only the "Lets Go Europe" book as a reference.  Unfortunately, this time I had forgotten to pack my Lonely Planet Guide to the Philippines, so we were even more blind.  Luckily, I was with Carlos who knew the language, anyway!

 The Chill Out was a nice place, with friendly people.  The owner was french and obviously had an artistic touch.  The place was a 10 minute walk to Alona Beach and we would have stayed if our path to the beach did not cross thru the Alona Beach Tropical Resort!

The "Tropical" was paradise!  Right on the beach, it was a true resort with beachfront bar and restaurant, all amenities, and situated in what could only be described as a tropical garden.  So, I just had to make the jump from, $10/night to $60.  It was well worth it!   Alona Beach is primarily European tourist destination.  I heard no 'americano' (0), but did run across Russian, German, French, Dutch, Aussie, Japanese, Korean, Chinese to name a few.

Carlos needed to move on to Mindinao, so after some fun snorkeling, he left and I became a lone traveller.  But, I wouldn't be alone for long! I knew that Steve, another PCRV in my group was living around 3 hours away, and I had made contact in the hopes that we could meet up.  Well, as luck would have it, the party was just about to start!  As it turned out, there happened to be another friend from out group, Jessee, who just happened to be touring Bohol at the same time as I! And he was traveling with yet one more PCRV!  So, the US Peace Corps invaded Alona Beach Tropical!

Before long we were swimming and having nice happy hour celebration on the beach.  Rum and Mango juice flowed and we laughed and laughed, sharing our experiences in the Philippines.   Next, God gave us a gift.  There we were,  the four of us looking out over the ocean.. and then the largest, longest and slowest moving shooting star any of us had ever seen crossed the sky.  We laughed afterward because it was so bright.. and so slow moving that we actually had time to comment on it before it disappeared.  Something like, "hey, look a that... .wow... that it a beautiful shooting star!  Amazing!!!"  And then, darkness.

A superb grilled fish dinner came next (freshly caught grouper and the largest prawns I have ever seen in my life).  Then, the big moment - I forgot to mention that Steve's last name is Balut.. can you imagine the irony in that?!!  If you don't know what Balut is, I will spare you the trouble of looking it up... its a fertilized, partially developed duck egg and it is quite the delicacy here in this part of the world.  Well, I have sworn off the blood soup and the dog and the chicken head and the lizard and the frog and the snake.... here I was with Steve Balut and well... since non of us had tried it, we felt that we just had to... Luckily, it was dark because the hardest part of eating balut is looking at it before you eat it, but eat it we did!  "4 balut, please!"  And it wasn't that bad after all!

The next morning Jesse and his friend had to move on.  Steven stayed and we had a great time essentially doing nothing but talk and swim.  Oh, and we got massages situated outside overlooking the sea.  Steve has a lot to share not only because he's probably one of the brightest guys I've met in a long time.  An architect by trade,  Steve is in the midst of his 4th service with the Peace Corps and one of them was in Antigua, the tiny island where Jean and I served for two years!  I tell you, what are the odds of that????  Steve has travelled extensively throughout the world and has many fabulous stories to tell!  But lo, he had to go and then... then I truly was alone in a far off exotic place.

The best part of the trip behind me, I soon packed and made my way back... first to the port, then by ferry to Cebu.  Once in Cebu, I felt rather lost.  Having no map and no clue where I would sleep, I did a quick stroll about the area surrounding the harbor.  Nothing.... A couple of taxi drivers had approached me and asked if I wanted a ride to Lapu Lapu... I declined but I figured if they thought I was heading there, well, maybe that was a sign?!  So, I asked around and before long, had jumped a ferry and was on my way to Lapu Lapu.  The ferry was clearly a good choice because by taxi it would have cost over 500 peso I am sure.. but by ferry it was only 20!  It sounded exotic but what would Lapu Lapu actually look like???

I got there.. walked a while.. sweated a bunch and finally found a tricycle and a driver who knew just a little english... and when I asked about a resort.. he promised me he would help me find one.  He took me to a few places and I finally ended up on some coastline, at an overpriced resort.  I quickly learned that Lapu Lapu is a tourist destination for Koreans...  funny how different areas attract different nationalities.  My resort had passed its prime.  There was no beach, but its source of recreation was watersport.  If you wanted, you could jump a boat to island hop, jet ski, or dive.  I had spent too much on the room, so I decided to eat a nice meal and crash early.  But then, a sad thing happened.

I was approached by a lovely young filipina after dinner on my way back to my room.  Her english was good, she had the most beautiful almond eyes, and she was desperate.  She asked me if she could sleep with me for 500ps (around $10).  She was 21 and had 4 children.  Obviously, she had no man to take care of her and her children.  He sister was ill and she needed the money to help pay for medicine. It is hard for me to explain my emotion... but I felt so bad for her.  It was too easy to see that she understood that she was humiliating herself by asking me for this. And I also understand the importance of character and honor in this culture.  She was crying... authentic tears.  I would have just given her the money.. honestly, if I had money to spare, but as it happened I had calculated exactly what I needed to get back to Lagonoy and there was little to spare.  I'm no sucker, and I have been asked for money a bunch since Ive gotten here...  but this woman touched me in an odd way.  In the end, I gave her 200ps and vowed that I would just not eat the next day to make up for the cost of this donation.  She thanked me, still crying..    It was an utterly surreal experience.  We parted then, on different paths.   I had no sex.  I slept alone and I felt vacant; as if I had been visited by a ghost.  I still do.

Next morning started the long haul back to Lagonoy: Taxi to airport to plane to taxi to bus to bus.  All told about 12 hours and I was back home in Lagonoy by around 10:30.  I am back here now in my favorite spot in the mayors office... sweating and typing and typing and sweating.  I just ate for the first time in over 36 hours - a donut.

travelling about

http://www.virtualtourist.com/travel/Asia/Philippines/Province_of_Bohol/Panglao_Island-1387326/TravelGuide-Panglao_Island.html

There are three major regions of the Philippines: Luzon, the largest island, the one that Manila, Subic Bay, Quezan City and I call home.  Then there is this vast area called the Vasayas.  The Vasayas are made up of hundreds and hundreds of littler islands.. some very small, some larger.  At the bottom, you have Mindanao.  Mindanao is off limits to PC for travel due to the presence of ISIS forces.  This week I travel to the Vasayas!

So, of course my attention has shifted to planning for my upcoming trip.  As you can guess from the link Ive attached, On Thursday, I will be traveling to the island of Panglao, which is actually considered part of the island of Bohol.  Bohol itself is a rather large island in the Vasayas and it was severely impacted by an earthquake last October, 2013.   The magnitude of that earthquake was 7.2.  222 people died, 976 were injured, 73000 structures were damaged and 14500 were destroyed (source: Wikopedia).   Then in November of last year, Bohol was hit by Typhoon Yolanda, the largest typhoon in history.  Almost unimaginable destruction!  I am quite interested to see how the island is recovering from these events, but in truth, my main interest in  going there is for vacation time.   As you can see from the link, Panglao is known to be arguably one of the most beautiful spots in the Philippines (along with Palawan, where I'll be headed in December!)

Carlos, my counterpart left for Bohol today.  We are leaving at different times because by the time he went to purchase his airplane ticket, the price had escalated beyond his reach.  He was forced to take a cheaper route, venturing first by bus to a port around 4 hours away, then by taking a series of ferries that will hop-scotch through the Vasayas until he reaches Cebu (the second largest city in the Philippines).

My itinerary has me bussing to Naga, then bussing to Legazpi City (excited to see the smoking volcano there that is ready to erupt at any minute!) where I will then jump on a plane for Cebu. Carlos and I  will hook up there at some port where to jump on a ferry to Bohol!  Could it get more complicated???!  Honestly...  Good thing I have some experience with traveling!

There is a local airline here that runs the cheapest flights throughout the region but their fee's are misleading!  For this trip, they advertised a fee in the paper:  'LEGAZPI CITY to CEBU:  $600 peso's!  Return trip:  1 peso!'.  Great... then I went online to book the ticket, and lo and behold, they load a ton of added charges... there is a booking fee, there is a 'seat fee', there is an internet fee, there is a fuel fee, there is airport fee, there is government tax fee, luggage fee, the list goes on and on.  In the end, I got this ticket, round trip for around $8000 pesos which is less than $200.  Cheap, but still a far cry from 601ps!    Suffice to say, I did not pay for the 'luggage fee' which means I will be packing extremely lite.. a small school backpack!  Maybe I'll be able to find someone to laundry once I get there!  I hope so or else I will not be very pleasant to be around!!

We hope find a decent but cheap place on the beach to crash - looking for a place around $10/night each should not be too difficult.  Few days there, and then ferry ride back to Cebu (the big city) where I will spend two days before reversing my journey back to Lagonoy.... My plans have me back here a week from today (with few more stories to tell, I hope). All aboard!!!

Screaming cats unite!

Its 4:00am and Ive been up for about 30 minutes.  Awoke to a strange sound - something I have never heard before.  If I didn't know better, I'd think there were a bunch of babies crying right outside my gate.   I just went out there and found out exactly what is causing all this racket.  Turns out it is cats.  I estimate that there are four, maybe five.  And they are howling at the full moon!    Now, coming from Arizona, Im used to the sounds of coyote in the desert… but cats?  Who knew cats howled at the moon?  But I guess we all need to do that every now and again, right!?

Anyway, yesterday was fun because I had the opportunity to meet 4 PCVs who travelled to Lagonoy for a presentation at our local High School.  Three of them will be back tomorrow as well.  They are engaging in a project involving Biodiversty and are coordinating a series of presentations on the subject at schools throughout the region.  Later today, I will meet up with them again to help paint a beautiful mural on a wall that surrounds the school.    Funding for this project came thru   a USAID grant written by one of my new PC friends  - a guy named Johann.  Wow.. it was great meeting up - at last!  I’ve known that there was PC in the region from the connections Ive been able to make on Facebook, but I had never actually met these folks.  In fact, this is my 12th week here in the Philippines and yesterday was the first time since I left Manila that I had an opportunity to speak with another PCV.  

These PCs obviously know each other quite well, as they are all part the same group that entered PC about one year ago and it seems that they gather together often.  So, they have one year left in their service!   I was surprised to learn that most of them have been back to Manila about 6 times in their first year for PC related activities - training, medical issues, etc.  

Oh, here's an interesting factoid - I learned yesterday that there are no fishermen in the Philippines.  They are called 'fisherfolk'!  I like it. 

Later this afternoon I will be returning to the radio station.  I mentioned in a previous blog that the station manager agreed to run a series of public service announcements on disaster issues for me.  Well, there was a catch I didn't mention.... In return for this, I had to agree to sing karaoke on the radio from 4 - 6p!  I tried to warn him that this will likely turn OFF listeners since my singing sound a lot like those cats out there.. but he was undeterred.  Get ready Lagonoy...... LET IT BE LET IT BE LET IT BE OH LET IT BE LISTEN WORDS OF WISDOM LET IT BE! 

todays lesson

and this, from my Dhammapada:

Desire grows in you
Like a vine in the forest.

Like a monkey in the forest
You jump from tree to tree.
Never finding the fruit -
From life to life
Never finding peace.

If you are filled with desire
Your sorrows swell
Like the grass after the rain.

But if you subdue desire
Your sorrows fall from you
Like the drops of water from a lotus flower.

This is good council
And it is for everyone

===
I just love it...  if I could only learn to LIVE it...

Like everywhere... some work hard while others hardly work

Here in the Philippines, there is really only one sport people seem to be interested in....  basketball.  In nearly every barangay you will likely find a basketball court and, if the sun is still shining, you will  likely see a game going on.  Ive witnessed some pretty excellent play here - which is remarkable when you consider that most of those playing are NOT playing with shoes!!!!!!   They play barefoot or in flip-flops!  You've got to see it to believe it.   

Just outside of the municipal hall where I work, there is a court under roof and every single day there are games going on - all day, all male, young and old alike!  So, that makes you wonder, right?  Why aren't these boys in school?  Why aren't these men at work?   Yesterday, I counted over 30 guys there...   and Im talking serious basketball.... money on the line in most of these games.

So, to turn subjects in stark contrast -  it is rice harvesting season here.  As Ive learned, farming rice is really really hard work... You can be sure a rice farmer is NOT playing basketball right now!  So, as you probably know, rice grows in a rice paddy... and a rice paddy is essentially a field that has been flooded in an inch or two of water.  Rice itself resembles grass by the way, but it grows to about 2 feet or so.  Anyway, they create the paddy fields by forming these little mud walls around the entire perimeter of the field.   Then they contour the height of these fields to create intricate water flow systems - so that water from one paddy is actually (very very) slowing flowing into the adjacent paddy's that are like, 6 inches lower in elevation.  Within each paddy, channels are carefully created between each plant in a crosshatch pattern to ensure that the water does not become stagnant.  These channels are created by the farmer, who walks in this flooded field row by row.   With a crude wooden tool that probably hasn't changed in millennium he does this mini plow thing to the mud below.  So a rice paddy is like a gigantic checker board, where each plant is separated from the other by a channel of mud and water.

So that's about all I know about rice paddy design.  Now you know too!!  As far as planting.... as best I can tell, each rice plant is planted by hand - hard to imagine but Ive seen it.  Men and women bent over in the mud planting seedling after seedling.  When it comes time to harvest, men carry this large and heavy machine into the field on two poles.  then, they pull the rice, run the rice through the machine and separate the plant from the grain.  The workers then load the grain into huge sacks, which they carry out of the field on their backs, one sack at a time.  

What happens next is interesting.... the rice is wet of course, and there is a covering over the rice itself that is called the chaff.  So before they separate the chaff from the grain itself, they need to dry the rice.  This happens in the middle of street.  Right now, every street in my barangay has a layer of rice over it.  First, the men or women must sweep the street... done by hand of course.. then they dump the rice into the street and use handmade rakes to even out the rice over the street.... trucks, cars, motorcycles, bikes pass over the rice...  folks walk over the rice... chickens eat the rice...   No problem because the protective chaff is still covering the rice grains that you eat.

Ok. next step... once the rice is dry (during this time, you certainly hope that it doesn't rain!)  they have to fill those giant bags again...  and then cart the bags to the mill where the chaff is separated from the rice grains themselves.  I believe this is where the 'sale' occurs and the farmer actually gets to collect his profit from all the hard labor.  Industrious folks then take the waste (the chaff) and somehow create charcoal out of this, which they then sell for people to cook with.  The rice of course is bagged and sold.

One final step... after harvest, the fields need to be turned over before planting can begin.  If he's rich enough, the farmer hitches a water buffalo to a till and then works that buffalo up and down the field - slow and deliberate work indeed.  These animals are prized over here because of their obvious strength and the fact that without them... this stage of the effort would be the most grueling of all if done by hand.  

So thats the process as I understand it.  Hard labor in the serious heat and humidity.  

 

Language and culture

Preface: There is a tradition here in the Philippines that whenever you visit someone it is always good to bring what is known as 'pasalubong".    It does not have to be anything big, just something to say, thank you for welcoming me into your home.  

Ok, so yesterday I went to Goa to visit my old friends at the radio station, and of course I brought pasalubong, this, in the form of a bottle of ginebra.  But before I get into that, I want to comment how I am constantly amazed how this place has to power to transform itself  And yesterday, Goa was no exception.  Here's the scene this time:  I get off my jeepney and notice that the streets were filled with flowers!  Every sidewalk was packed and there were ladies selling flowers... buckets and buckets and buckets of the most beautiful and colorful tropical flowers!  Many them were arranged in vases of bamboo, while others were stuck into small coconuts.  Where did they all come from... and where were they going???

Well, I got through the jungle of flowers and walked probably around 3 miles to the radio station.  My friends there were happy to receive me of course - especially when I unveiled my pasalubong!!! No worries, that Rick was actually on air at the time, but hey, anytime is the right time to share laughter, right?  I was happy to receive an invitation to do a PSA on disaster preparedness that they would be happy to do for me.  All I need to do is come up with what to say and they will translate it and do the spot for me!!  So, that is a good thing, right??!

The gentleman you see sitting next to me (if you look close, you will see that sneaky ginebra finding its way in the shot as well!) is actually a retired english professor who worked at Pardito State University just down the road.  He's the one who hosted the PCV I spoke of in an earlier blog.  Anyway, no surprise that one of his favorite topics of conversation is language, and this time we were speaking about the filipino language - or should I say myriad of languages!  There are hundreds of dialects here and the differences between them are quite remarkable. Its not like having a "southern accent" vs. "New England"; Im talking about different words for the same thing,  If that weren't enough, the language itself is complex.  For example, take the word "cut".  Of course, in English, 'to cut' is well understood, no matter if you are cutting a hair, or a tree.  No so here....  there is one word to describe cutting hair, another to describe cutting a tree and yet another to cutting a piece of cloth.   And there is no formal classroom rigor in the subject of Tagalog, or Bicol or any of the other dialects here.  They only formally study one language and that is English.  Yet, most of the filipinos I know easily speak at least 3 languages fluently... English, Tagalog and Bicol.  I comment on this because I wonder how this is possible when in the US.... English is our official language, we teach it for nearly 12 years in a formalized curriculum and yet, many children still struggle with achieving a passing grade - not to mention being completely unable to learn a second, or third language...  

Say you live on one of the 1000+ islands in the Philippines and your island is say, roughly 5 milesx5miles.  Imagine that there is a large towering mountain in the middle of the island that used to be a volcano and that it is covered with jungle vegitation.  That pretty munch sums up a lot of islands here.. anyway, it is very likely that the village on one end of the island speaks a completely different dialect than the one on the other side!  

Now imagine you are standing on the shore of your small but beautiful tropical island here in the Philippines.  You look out over the water and see another island in the not too distant horizon.  It is likely that you SHARE the dialect with THAT island, even though you speak a different language from the folks on the other side of the tiny island you live on!!!  I find that fascinating!!!  Of course, this has everything to do with trade, and fishing, and the relative impenetrability of the mountains over here.  Ok enough of that....   

I made it home before too long because

I was interested in watching the cemetery ceremonies.   Let me try and set the picture for you.  First, it is important to understand that a filipino cemetery is like a Lousiana cemetery and not like the cemetery you are probably imagining.  That is, people are not buried under the earth.  They are placed into crypts, and in this case, concrete crypts.  Also, as you can see in the photos, they are placed on top of each other (in condo style) to save space.  Well, last night this place was aglow.... nearly every crypt had candles on them and the place was just jammed with people casually walking through.  Of course, many would stop at the crypt of their loved ones.   It was not a rollicking event.  I saw no singing, no alcohol, no music inside the cemetery.  It was much more respectful than that.

I had to go back this morning to get the pictures you see below.