Wait!

There is boy down the street that has learned when I come home. Most days he runs out and yells 'Wait!' as I drive by. I had gotten so used to kids begging over the Christmas holiday that I had completely ignored him up until today. I would frown and shake my head and make the “batawad” sign which is similar to the hand motion American's use to say 'so-so' and basically means: out of stock. But today as I drove by I recognized him as one of the boys that had come by during Christmas. 

There is a custom here of asking for gifts. It is completely appropriate to greet someone who has returned from vacation with the words, “Ako pasalobod?” (Literally - “souvenir for me”) This is not just for families or close friends but includes everyone who knows you went on the trip and it is common for random acquaintances and neighbors to come asking. I have heard stories of locals who spent every penny of their travel money on cheap little souvenirs anticipating the masses that would greet them when they got home. The same custom applies at Christmas time too, only to a greater extent since you are allowed to go door-to-door asking for gifts. (Think: trick or treating for money.) Most would sing carols of some sort and some families were actually quite good. Mostly though it was groups of children- predominantly boys- who would visit and this went on day after day. This 'giving' season begins anytime after halloween and runs through New Years. We gave them candy instead of money, despite my guilt over contributing to their sugar intake. 

This one boy in particular, though, I remember and curiosity began to get the best of me. So when I got home, we grabbed the dog and went for a walk past where this kid hangs out. It is an electronics repair 'shop' that is actually just a covered porch with a sign on it. I'm not sure if he lives there or is just related to that family. When he saw us walking, he recognized us immediately and smiled and waved but didn't come over to talk. I've decided next time I'm going to stop and see what he needs me to “Wait!” for..

No Disappointments?

 Pinoys LOVE Christmas and New Years. They love the lights and decorations and singing carols and shopping. As I have been experiencing it for the first time it has been a bit odd to me. Why would a financially destitute people enjoy a holiday of such excessive spending? Especially since plugging in Christmas lights here can give you an electric bill it will take 3 months to pay off. What I've realized, though, is that it makes everything sort of pretty. There is so much filth here but when you see it decorated and lit up it sort of looks pretty and nice. Holidays and festivals of all kinds are a big deal here. The government regularly declares new holidays, sometimes with only a week or two notice. Everyone breaks out the backyard fireworks, plastic flag banners (like the ones that go across a swimming pool), and their karaoke machine! Don't have fireworks? No problem, small firearms work just as well. Aim at the sky and fire as many bullets in quick succession as possible. When we first arrived here the shots kept me up at night. I was worried I would wake to stories of murder each night in my neighborhood until I learned that the gunshots were just a way to partake in the evening celebration. On the bright side, we live in a cement house so there isn't much chance of a bullet reaching us in our sleep. =) 
When Chris was here visiting my neighbor repeatedly tried to convince him to come back for Christmas. He kept saying Christmas was better here than any where else in the world. I guess we all love the Christmas season but I don't think I've ever been deceived into believing that my home town had the BEST Christmas anywhere. Makes me chuckle a little at Pinoy pride. What was truly amazing (in a “I never ever want to experience this again!!” sort of way) was New Years. Decades ago the Chinese migrated into the Philippines in a big way and became an upper class of business based families. With their commerce, they also brought their traditions and superstitions. The Chinese, who celebrate their New Year in February, believe that you must use fireworks to chase away evil spirits on the first day of the year or your year will be cursed. The Filipinos have taken this to a whole new level of crazy. The fireworks started in my neighborhood a full week before the 1^st. Not just at night either. They would peter out around 3am and start back up at 7am. We shut up all our windows and draped plastic sheeting across the areas of our home that is just screened in in preparation for the big night. By the time the 31^st rolled around the kids and I were going crazy. We were so jumpy from the constant explosions that we were actually ducking. Fireworks here are not regulated and are relatively cheap so these are bigger than what we are used to buying. We could actually feel some of the concussions as they went off. We went up to the school to watch the show. I was warned not to stay home and after surviving the week none of us wanted to. Fireworks began as soon as it got dark but the sort of thing Americans are used to seeing in a 'Finale' began around 9:30. This continued straight through until 12:30. For as far as the eye could see West toward Manila Bay and North and South too. From our mountain, you can literally see the entire Metro Manila area and then some. It is one of the largest metropolitan areas in the world. And it was entirely covered in glorious fireworks. 
However, where there is fire... you guessed it, there is smoke. As we watched, the smoke created by the explosions slowly crept over the city and obscured our view, until close to midnight, we couldn't see more than a ½ mile out. I put the kids in the car to sleep and waited for a few hours before I attempted to drive home. It was like driving through heavy fog. The smoke was so thick I could barely see the mounds of trash left in the streets from the burnt fireworks. That night I let out a huge sigh of relief. It was over! The next day I made a point of avoiding the news since many kids are maimed for life or killed each year during this celebration and I didn't want to know how many. The neighbor who had insisted this would be such a great experience caught me during the afternoon. We exchanged “Happy New Year!”s and then he excitedly asked, “How did you like it? No disappointments?” What could I say that wouldn't offend his national pride? So I lied. “No disappointments!” While swearing to myself I would never do this again.

The Ghetto

“So... I'm wondering what the crime rate is here, because this is the ghetto.” This was spoken by a man my co-worker and I had just picked up from the airport. Being a 1^st time visitor to the Philippines, he was viewing our surroundings through fresh eyes. Needless to say, we burst into laughter. I laughed so hard I cried a little. Looking around, it is very true that this appears to be an inner city hood. I find myself still going through some stages of shock as we continue to adjust here and I think that there are things that I have a hard time 'seeing'. People ask me what it is like here and I struggle to find words to explain it. The differences are so overwhelming that it is hard to know where to start. The very undercurrent of life seems to flow differently, as if there was another type of gravity causing it to behave in ways that make no sense to a Westerner's sense of reason. How do you describe an orange to an apple who has never seen an orange before? “Well... it's.. hmm.. different.” 

People here are used to shabby. Most are lucky to live in housing that is made with permanent walls. Many of the residents of Manila have migrated here from outer Provinces that are extremely poor. Little food and no jobs has motivated them to seek their fortunes in the 'Big City'. Unfortunately, here they have found jobs are still scarce and the economic system is one that keeps them from every truly getting ahead. It is normal to see a building made of more than two types of materials. A few of the walls may be concrete, but when the money for that runs out, the rest are finished with wood or metal sheeting or sometimes old canvas banners. Most squatter homes are made of scrap wood, branches, and canvas. Bars cover everything. Windows, doors, and driveways. Tall cement walls surround almost every house and razor wire curves around properties in even the nice neighborhoods. Behind these shabby exteriors are normal homes and successful businesses. No one here seems to mind, or even to notice, that their buildings are not aesthetically pleasing. 

And this is why we were laughing. The 'ghetto' we were driving through is a pretty decent part of town. Crime is lower here than in LA and for a metro area of 26 million people, that's not too bad. The other reason for my laughter~ we were only a short distance from where this visitor was going to be staying while he was here. I wonder if he was able to see past the haphazard way this country is pieced together and discover what is hiding underneath..

Signs of Adjustment

It’s funny, the things that make you feel adjusted. When I first got here I felt that getting used to a cold shower meant I was making progress. Later I realized that it was switching back to hot ones despite the heat that really signified we were adjusting. In this environment of constantly suffering from NOT adjusting quickly enough, it is fun to see some of the ways that we have. 

One is we have stopped seeing ants as ‘bugs’. They are everywhere and in everything. We sometimes win our fight to keep them at bay and sometimes we don’t. Shortly after arriving, ants got into my favorite cereal. Our helper stuck it in the freezer to kill the ants and the next morning brought it out for me to eat. Try as I might, I couldn’t eat it. I wasn’t going to be able to get past the knowledge of all the dead ants. I waited until she was gone to throw it out because to her that was an extreme waste and I was embarrassed to do it. Today we regularly eat ‘around’ ants. They crawl onto our plate as we are dishing up and we just wipe them off and keep going. Yes, there is probably a microscopic ant smear left in their place, but like I said, they’re not ‘bugs’ anymore. I have picked them out of my coffee, milk, and juice and more often than I care to think about, NOT picked them out. The staff here joke about how ‘nutritious’ they might be so I have realized I am not alone in this adaptation to life here. 

Another sign of adjustment is our use of local terminology. Right away we started calling the living room a 'sala'. It is so easy to say and our helper was constantly referring to it as that. We also call the bathroom a 'CR' now. Short for 'comfort room', adopting this term came from necessity. If you ask a Filipino in a store where the bathroom is, they will just shake their head at you in confusion. So we learned to use the local term quickly. It is still funny, though, when the kids use it at home. “Mom, I have to go to the CR.” lol 

Another phrase we have completely adapted is AirCon.  I think it is one that will stick when we return to the states though. It's much harder to go back to the longer version of words once you have started using the shorter ones. Tyler made me laugh the other day because he was putting aircon units into his lego buildings. Now there is someone who is truly thinking 'Pinoy'. ;)

Unspoken Words

Gestures mean so much here, as they do everywhere. Some of my biggest cultural mistakes have come from misunderstanding the nonverbal communication and misinterpreting what was going on. One of the hardest things for me to adjust to were the signals used in driving. If a guard is helping you to backup he will tap on your car to say “keep going”. As in thunk, thunk, thunk, thunk, BOOM. The BOOM means stop. Immediately. It is so disconcerting trying to backup when someone is pounding on the side of your car! 

Another thing they do is whistle when they want you to “go” and “go faster”. This is the worst one for me! Every time I hear that whistle my foot slams on the brake and it is only as I am slowing down that my brain catches up and says, “No, that means GO!” I have been trained my whole life to freeze at the sound of a whistle. Flashing headlights also have a somewhat opposite meaning here. Where I am from truck drivers flash their lights to say, “You’re all clear, go ahead.” Here it is the other driver saying, “I’m going first, move out of my way!” It might not seem like this would be a frequent issue but, unfortunately, our roads are often reduced to one lane at a time. What happens if you both flash your lights?? I haven't tried it yet but my guess is the bigger car wins. And that, at least, is one thing that is the same. ;)