January Newsletter - Gretchen in the Philippines

The month of January was mostly spent outside of my base in Cebu, devoted to a reflection time with the six other interns and Becca proceeding personal time during which my parents visited. The beginning of this roughly three week break marked the end of Phase I of the program, of which there are three phases. The goals of Phase I were focused to establish familiarization in our placements, the people and organizations we interact with, and our communities and church settings in which we are placed. Even before Phase I began, we were encouraged to rely on patience in the two months of orienting ourselves to our new realities and the challenges that continually crop up. The expectation was that many of us would not be “doing” as much as simply “being.” Our ministry of presence was so that we would become knowledgeable about our communities and the struggles that are faced there through experience rather than simply being told by others. Quite contrary to the Western mindset of tangible productivity, sheer output, and what we call effective time management, presence required just what was asked—patience. For many of us, it was patience that came without ease in the past couple months.

During our reflection and sharing time, it was astounding how many of the same emotions I experienced and situations in which I struggled that nearly every other intern also experienced. There were feelings of being misunderstood, of constantly being asked who we are and what were doing here in sometimes an interrogative way, of finding ourselves wanting to be sympathetic to the negative role U.S. foreign policy and U.S. corporations have played here while still maintaining a love and pride of our homeland, of desiring to participate in cultural exchange when assumptions are made about American culture via media and pop culture, of wanting to feel we are contributing in some real, meaningful way when the results are not evident, of wanting to have all the available information, data, and analyses when we must make our own observations, and of wanting to understand how life here runs so abhorrently counter to how God’s children deserve to live when it seems all too unbelievable. When there were times I thought no one could possibly empathize with my feelings, with this tugging at my soul, the probability is that one of the other interns might have very well been feeling the same emotion at the very same time. I wrote before about my difficultly in stating I live in solidarity with the struggling masses in the Philippines because, despite how often I have heard this statement made, for me it accompanies a great deal of preemptive thought and inherent responsibility that should not be made light or inconsequential. But I can say without doubt—and even despite a running joke in using this next statement which involves two very embarrassing theatrical performances during which this phrase was concocted along with countless ridiculous allusions and even a midnight swim proclamation with hands raised—as a group, “we live in solidarity.”

In hearing the stories of the other interns, I also found points of diversion from my own experience. Unfortunately for many interns, the placements were either not prepared to host them or did not properly set them up with organizations or communities to be working with. In many respects, I can see how my feelings of uselessness paled in comparison to others who did not have a proper schedule which could even opened up the possibility of learning. While I do not want to be too critical of this intern program without knowing the entire history and process by which the program has come to this point, I see living in the Philippines as a great opportunity to learn a tremendous amount about the struggles of the developing world as well as to grow personally and spiritually, but this must be done with guidance and thoughtful dissemination of the details of our program to necessary personnel. It becomes an unfortunate situation when both parties are not learning and serving each other. I can say, on my part though, that despite some early bumps, the staff who I work with are very eager to help me in this process, to provide necessary programs and guidance but to also let me come to conclusions on my own.

The reflection time with the interns had the aim to give us the space to share openly, to relax in a beautiful setting at the beach, and to recharge for the next phase until we meet each other again in April. I think all those aims were met, but at times it was hard to justify why we should be at this gorgeous locale that few Filipinos visit themselves, though our accommodations were quite simple. I experience this feeling often. All of our housing, meals, and transportation are covered in program costs (thanks to many of you) and then we also receive a stipend for personal expenses. What seemed like a meager amount in August, still under the influence of American prices and the standard of living the requires those costs, the stipend now seems like an overly necessary amount, though I am happy to be saving a little with the prospect of returning to school and the dreaded student loans sooner rather than later (though not in the coming school year). But sometimes I can’t help but think how difficult it is to adjust to this culture when we can jet off every third month we are here. However, I understand why the reflections and personal stipends are necessary—simply put, they help us to keep our sanity. I hate that the difficultly of living as a misunderstood foreigner who often earns for home (and her favorite movies, music, food, cheese—yes it deserves its own distinction) can sometimes be alleviated with dollars. But it remains. It also points to the reality that we are here for a year which can feel like an eternity but in the whole thick of things will be (I hope) maybe 1/80th of my life. During that 80th, I would rather keep some semblance of familiarity than fully assimilate myself to Filipino culture, because honestly I’m not cut out for rice three times a day for a lifetime.

Following reflection time, I headed to Manila to meet up with my parents. Although they had been talking of visiting well before I had even left the U.S., the decision to come was made just weeks before they braved the 24+ hours of travel, the 13 hour time difference, and the completely different reality they had never encountered in their lives that I had the past five months to navigate through. Upon spotting them at the airport, it was strange how it felt like it had been mere weeks. As this is the longest I have been away from home—my mother reminds me incessantly—I was naively envisioning this monumental reunion. Our greeting was joyful but just as joyful as countless other shorter separations, and I realized though I love my parents immensely (and everyone knows why) perhaps this is all part of the “becoming an adult” process and feeling not as dependent on though no less connected to my parents.

Our somewhat whirlwind of a tour went something like this:
January 16: evening arrival after which I sent them straight to bed. Adjustment to the thirteen-hour time difference is no easy feat without lots of rest.
January 17: sightseeing in Manila; visiting historical landmarks, a museum containing the artworks of renowned Filipino artists, and experiencing the craziness of public transportation.
January 18: day trip outside Manila to breathtaking falls that we navigated in a boat pulled by small but surprisingly strong boatmen.
January 19: walked along the water by Manila Bay followed by our flight to Cebu.
January 20: we experienced Sinulog, the once-a-year festia celebrated by millions of Cebuanos city-wide to the patron saint of the city, Santo Niño.
January 21-24: spent at the beach to enjoy the unadulterated beauty of the islands (available only to the few however).
On the 24th we also visited the two communities of the outreach, Pakna-an and Punta Engaño during which Butch and Dr. Montes explained the situation, and I believe they were much more effective at relaying the struggles there than I could ever be.
January 25: my parents left tired no doubt, but with the hope they learned something.

During my parents’ visit, we all experienced moments of frustration. Trying to keep them relatively comfortable while not sacrificing my conviction to show them the real Philippines, not the adulterated version most tourist experience, was a difficult balancing act to attempt. And while my patience, my level of understanding, and my willingness to sympathize are intact for all persons, they always waver with family. Perhaps it’s the ability to be real or to know no matter what I say or do, they still love me. Either way, it’s not always the best in making a visit to a foreign country run smoothly. But as things would go, we were all quite content with each other in the last few days when my parents felt more comfortable and were able to understand what is now my life here. I thought that I would take advantage of their small exposure to this country and ask their impressions since during the craziness of my first month, my focus was less focused on even the obvious observations and more on the issues that I had been exposed to. The following is a slightly edited account of their reactions, directed towards me and written firsthand by my father but contributed to by my mother as well. Enjoy.

What was striking in Manila, Cebu, and even along the roadways in the countryside was the number of people. This began at the airport, from the baggage retrieval area to the crowd outside the terminal awaiting arriving passengers. People are everywhere. There is a sense of ordered disorder. Conversely, there is little privacy. As we live near a city, not in a city, we are not used to such crowds. Although the semi-rural area where we live is not diverse, the urbanized portions of Lorain County and Cleveland are fairly diverse. The lack of diversity in the Philippines is striking, with a high percentage of native people, a small percentage of other Asians (mainly Korean), and occasional Europeans, infrequent Americans, and a very small number of people of African descent. The relatively uniform stature of the people was noticeable to me, as I did not encounter any Filipinos close to 6 feet tall. Unlike the U.S., where anything goes, the dress attire was quite modest. Walking around, one couldn’t help but notice people looking at us. Most people would acknowledge a greeting. We experienced no physical aggression or hostility (except for a young boy in Logon, who turned around, and pointed his finger as if to shoot a gun. I’m not sure what to make of this, but he was glaring not smiling). The people we actually met were friendly, some quite so and some quite hospitable and generous. The beggars and hawkers were fairly omnipresent, with some persistent and annoying. At times, mainly in crowded streets or at night, the uncertainty of encountering so many people, unsure of their intentions, could be unsettling. However, the sense of security was greater than in some parts of American cities, which would be unsafe to venture into. Something that was unexpected was the public urination, with the most striking example, a man urinating against a palm tree in the promenade along Manila Bay in broad daylight. What one would not help to notice was the lack of obese people. A few people were overweight, but not morbidly obese. Most people were thin or normal weight. The smiling faces of most of the children were noticeable.
Smells that were striking included the sewage smell of Manila Bay, the stench of urine in places and an overall musty odor. Striking sights included the shacks or improvised shelters virtually everywhere, and made of whatever materials available, the presence of street merchants and small retains stores nearly everywhere, the lack of zoning by our standards, signs covering buildings along the roadways, the lack of landscaping, piles of trash and junk, and animals either around the homes or loose without restraint. Striking sounds were the roosters crowing, in the cities and in the country. The incessant beeps and honks of the horns of vehicles were noticeable. The traffic and manner in which drivers negotiate the chaos of the streets were unnerving and made us thankful and grateful for our Filipino drivers. Despite being despoiled by man, the underlying natural beauty of the land and seashore could not be denied.
The poverty in the Philippines is quite pervasive and in plain sight, in essence nearly everywhere, although undoubtedly there is evidence of wealth as well. The contrast of the omnipresent shacks and rundown buildings with the occasional nice home or commercial building or high rise was stark. The poverty is everywhere; we saw few residences that would not be considered substandard in the U.S. We interacted with few people that weren’t working poor. Presumably the “middle class” people we met were at the hospital.
Regarding the root causes of poverty and injustice, we can’t make such judgments from a short visit and without more knowledge of the history, politics, and economics. Our sources of information were you, Dr. Montes, and Butch. We have no reason not to believe, but as you undoubtedly learned in college, there usually are multiple points of view and perspective. Complex problems are usually just that, complex. Just as it is readily apparent that poverty is everywhere and overwhelmingly pervasive, it is also quite clear it has been present for a long time and isn’t going to change anytime soon. It seems clear that whether people farm fish, have a roadside stand or market or live in the cities, they are just getting by. Subsistence living off the land and sea only works if there is enough land to farm or access to the sea to sustain a given population. The population seems much too great for subsistence economy. Land reform/sea access would obviously help a lot of people but won’t help urbanites, the bulk of the population. The process of transitioning from an agrarian economy to an industrialized economy hasn’t been easy anywhere, let alone for a poor country to do this in today’s global economy. The dilemma is a 90,000,000 population can’t be sustained by traditional means even though industrialization runs counter to tradition. The trick is to industrialize/globalize in a manner that is fair to the workers. The global economy is not going to disappear and is a source of outside capital. Human rights need to be maintained not sold out.
The plight of the Philippine people is probably poorly understood in the U.S. Knowledge and dissemination of information are powerful. Getting the word out (facts, not presumptions or the viewpoints or a few activists) is a starting point. Foreigners can help, especially if influential with the Filipino powers to be. The word needs to get out (out of sight, out of mind). An unbiased documentary is a thought. But be smart and be safe.
In exemplifying the struggle, the juxtaposition of foreign and native lifestyles in Punta Engaño was striking. The high end foreign developments for the pleasure of the entitled few, the paved street ending at the Hilton with the rutted road beyond, the totally cleared land awaiting development versus the displaced people living in shacks just off these properties, the beautifully landscaped gated estates and resorts versus the hovels of the people, the walls topped with barbed wire, and the high rises are some examples.
[Many] blamed U.S./U.S. policies for the problems of Philippines. U.S. rule ended over 60 years ago. Undoubtedly, U.S. policies have influenced the Philippines government, but ultimately the Philippines government has the final say. The Filipinos need to be responsible for the destiny of their own people. The U.S. could certainly help, by insisting of fair treatment, fair wages, and equal justice as a condition for further assistance/investment. But this is primarily for the Filipinos to figure out. This probably won’t be easy. As I said to Butch, the Filipinos have a major advantage and that is a democracy (even if flawed) already in place. He responded if you are poor and are bribed, you vote for the people in power. That is a strong argument but will maintain the status quo. Change rarely comes without sacrifice and selfless courage. Nonviolent means (Gandhi in India, civil rights movement in U.S.) can work. Beware the lure of the far left as a cure-all for the people’s problems. Communist governments, without fail, have been totalitarian. China, for all its economic success (using capitalist techniques) is still a restricted society, with limited freedoms.
Listen, by sympathetic, keep your filter up, and be smart and safe.