Philippines Newsletter - Gretchen

Greetings from the Philippines! I have now been in the country for a month, and despite the relatively short length of time, I, along with the other six United Church of Christ in the Philippines (UCCP) interns, have been exposed to a wide range of issues, peoples, and locations within and around our home base of Manila. Our orientation period, lasting roughly two months, is structured such that we experience living in Metro Manila—participating in lectures, forums, protests, and marches and working with human rights groups, church members, and prominent figures fighting for the people—while engaging in immersions—four to six day explorations to different locales where we are welcomed into the community through home stays and are invited to focus an a specific issue facing the community. With the dual nature of the orientation, we are able to receive a more holistic view of the situation in the Philippines and specifically issues facing the poor, the politically oppressed, and those who have been silenced by the government of Gloria Macapagal-Arroyo, current president.
Living in Manila—with its crazy streets full of racing jeepneys (the local public transportation which is an elongated jeep, many felt over from the U.S. Army) where traffic laws need not apply, massive amounts of people on the streets doing anything from selling and buying to sleeping, and the pollution—has been difficult for me who prefers a less hectic and less overwhelming pace of life. But as with anything, I am adapting to city life and gaining confidence to make excursions throughout the city with fellow interns in tow. Our home is in a portion of the city called Malate, which lies within proximity of Manila Bay. We are living in a converted classroom with three rooms: one for our supervisor, Becca, one for the lone male of the group, Ted from the Presbyterian Church (USA), and the last for the six girls, Kristin and Anna, also from PC(USA), Rali from the ELCA, Anna-fie from Germany, and Arin from Indonesia. The seven of us interns get along remarkably well and have learned quite a bit about each other’s lives through sharing our stories, cooperating together within the household, and being challenged as a whole outside the home in the streets, the fields, and the factories. We come from diverse backgrounds, with the range of nationalities, various ethnicities, and differing interests, but we are quickly becoming family. Our personalities differ as well, but an underlying thread of similarity encompasses a passion for understanding others, an exuberance for facing challenges, and a desire to live and grow throughout and beyond this year in the Philippines.
Within Manila, our orientation has revolved around the issue of forced disappearances of those who are seen as a threat to the government’s desire to keep the poor oppressed and the advocates of the people silenced. On our first night here in Manila, we were told of the story of Pastor Berlin Guerrero, a UCCP pastor, who was kidnapped on May 27, 2007 and subsequently tortured by the Philippine military and naval intelligence. Pastor Berlin is a vocal advocate for human rights, such rights that have been severely curtailed since President Arroyo took office in 2001, and for this effectiveness as a leader and organizer, he was seen as a threat. He is luckier than many of the disappeared, as he surfaced. He currently is being held in prison on 15-year-old murder charges that he vehemently denies having any connection to. His story is not unique in the Philippines; many have been detained on unjust charges while the government fabricates connections with various enemies of the state. Many others fall fate to extra-judicial killings. His full story can be found in the Philippine Daily Inquirer, dated August 30, 2007. The Daily Inquirer’s motto is “Balanced News, Fearless Views,” providing an informative and more realistic view of the political situation than other newspapers. In addition to hearing Pastor Berlin’s story told by others, we have participated in a commemoration of his 100 days in prison and will shortly have the opportunity to visit him in prison. In the meantime, we have spent time with his wife, Mylene, as well as additional family members of those who have been victims of disappearances, political detention, and assassinations at the hands of Arroyo, who during the past six years of her rule has seen more political detainees and deaths than during the fourteen years of Martial Law under Marcos. It has been difficult to hear so many stories, told through teary eyes, from family members who will see no justice. Witnesses are killed or disappear out of fear, and the judicial process is non-existent. Yet many of these people have become more determined and resolute by joining progressive human rights groups, the same groups whose membership contributed to their loved ones’ persecution. I cannot understand from where this strength is derived, but as I learn more and more of the Filipino spirit, it becomes apparent that the desire for justice outweighs the fear of retribution.
Thus far, we have had three of our five total immersions, which include an urban immersion, semi-rural/industrial immersion, rural immersion, Moro (Muslim) immersion, and indigenous peoples immersion. The urban immersion, our first, set us right here in Manila, a location no longer than twenty minutes from our home. We stayed for four days with urban poor host families in Tondo, an area that lies in the North Harbor area. The Philippine government plans to sell this area to foreign investors, both American and Japanese, thus displacing hundreds of thousands of residents. The urban poor, who constitute 30 million, or one third of the population in the Philippines, reflect the urban migration of farmers that struggled in the countryside as a result of lack of land ownership. However, the promised abundance of opportunities in Manila is not so, and as a result the urban poor build their homes out of any materials they may find, constituting small shanties no larger than 12 x 12 ft. for an average family of six. The families will sell goods to their neighbors or work as pedi-cab drivers (bicycles with side cars) to provide food. Not only are facing everyday life desperate, but the impending demolition of their homes by the government also weighs on the people. Simultaneously, the military terrorizes community members to discourage them from participating in any empowering programs to help them in their fight. Living with the Ling family provided me the opportunity to begin to understand family and communal living in Tondo. Community was vital; assistance was never asked for, it was simply given. I never found out who owned the small pen of pigs that were cared for so carefully for sale in the market, yet I saw numerous people feeding and cleaning them throughout the week. Staying in Tondo was difficult physically, sleeping in a cramped space on a hard floor that rose only five feet above the waters and waste of Manila Bay, and emotionally, understanding how this life was unbelievable to me yet such a reality for so many Filipinos. My host family’s willingness to welcome me into their home, showering me with graciousness, gave me a glimpse of what it means to survive past comfort, past stability, and past hope.
Our semi-urban/industrial immersion was located a couple hours south of the city in the province of Laguna where we spent time with striking workers of mainly Nestle but also Nissan and Toyota. Nestle, not only the number one food manufacturer in the world but also a monopolizing force in the Philippines, has exploited their workers, resulting in twenty plus years of striking workers, assassinated union leaders, and struggling families. Currently on strike since 2001 after hundreds of illegal dismissals, the workers fight for their promised retirement pensions, and despite numerous Supreme Court rulings in their favor, the capitalist (called derisively) Nestle continues to fire life-long workers. Nestle then hires contract workers who work for five months at a time without any benefits, only to be let go when the contract ends. In addition, union workers are terrorized with death threats and former workers are blacklisted to prevent future hire. As a result picket lines (small camps of sorts) have been set up to accommodate those struggling in the fight, providing shelter and income-generating projects so that food and other expenses can be covered while a boycott of Nestle products continues (such a boycott that our household endorses and one which you might consider). It was at the Nestle picket line that we stayed, hearing the stories of those most affected. Ka Noel (Brother Noel), the current union president, told us the story of Ka Fort, the previous union leader who was unfortunately not the first president to be gunned down by Nestle. He had become too outspoken, too critical, and too productive. The slogan, “there is blood in your coffee” has genuine meaning. Ka Fort’s wife remains an active presence on the line despite the difficulty she most feel seeing her husband’s face emblazoned on banners and t-shirts. Yet her husband’s fight has become her own. I am learning more and more about resoluteness as a result of grief; it is powerful beyond belief. The ways in which Nestle has disrupted family life is startling. Ka Noel, the epitome of what a leader should be—silently strong, forceful only when necessary, humble beyond imagine, and a servant of the people—is a man forced to give up family life. Unable to sleep at his own home and unable to travel alone, he avoids the same fate as Ka Fort. However, his life is not lived in fear, waiting for Nestle to strike again, but in defiance of the life Nestle would like him to live. When asked what a reasonable resolution would be, Ka Noel responds, “It’s simple, for Nestle to uphold the Supreme Court rulings,” promising retirement benefits. But when money is valued over human rights, simplicity cease to exist, and as a result many suffer for the gain of the wealthy.
Our most recent immersion, to the beautiful countryside three hours south of the city in the province of Botangas, gave us a glimpse into the rural life of farmers. Despite the fertile lands and wealth of natural resources in the Philippines, the farmers are among the poorest in the country with the lack of land ownership; only one in ten farmers owns small plots. Many of the crops are export crops, which the farmers cannot survive on alone as the price of produce continues to lower at the market. The community structure is often disrupted when family members leave for additional income in overseas work, often as domestic workers. The farmers sell their produce to middlemen at the market, who then in turn sell to buyers with the middlemen making more money than the farmers themselves. Within our home stay community, farmers grew eggplant, hot peppers, citrus, sugarcane, coconuts, and rice and cared for pigs and cows. We were able to participate in eggplant harvest, which occurs once every four days, and the coconut harvest, at 45-day intervals. The income generated from these harvests is small in comparison to the amount of work involved. A thousand husked coconuts amount to 220 pesos, less than five dollars for three to four hours of work. The price of eggplant at the market has fallen to as low as 4 pesos per kilo. However, when a fellow white intern and I traveled to the market with our host family, Gerry and Liza, the price per kilo raised 3 pesos to 7 pesos total due to our presence as foreigners and apparently an intriguing entity. While I was pleased to hear that 3 more pesos per kilo would be so beneficial to our family, I was disturbed that such an increase was a result of the glorification of our national identity, American, and our skin color, white. This mentality is prevalent throughout the Philippines with women turning to skin whitening creams to appear more Western. Yet the relationship with the U.S. from the Filipino standpoint is very much love-hate. While many Filipinos save for years to travel to the U.S. to work, the disturbing history of colonial rule is felt throughout, and the present situation is described as semi-feudal and semi-colonial. As I learn more and more about this relationship from a cultural and political standpoint, I will comment, as the situation is multi-faceted and to make an assessment after only a month in-county seems hasty. Our remaining two immersions will be occurring within last month of our orientation.
My time in the Philippines in the first month has been intense. Not only was the 12-hour time difference difficult to overcome, but being placed in a different culture within an urban setting has also been challenging. We are living simply here, from the lack of running water in our home to the inability to do things we would normally do in the U.S. Seeing poverty, oppression, and struggle firsthand wears on all of us, despite our privilege of returning to our home in Malate at the end of immersion and eventually our homes at the end of the year. But we find ways to cope. During a tearful moment together as a group after a small excursion into the city early on, Becca consoled us by saying, “Easy, it’s only the first week.” We passed around delicious German chocolate and had a good laugh, realizing that laughter and food go a long way. If we were to focus all our energies on the struggles of life in the Philippines, we would be paralyzed out of the inability to cope with the injustice that is faced here. And so we laugh…