Third Culture

I was chatting with a friend of mine, and we were updating each other of our locations - although she has been in Mindano for most of her life except for the time she was in Baguio for her studies. So I told her that I am currently based in two places, after having just arrived from a short stint at Aceh, Indonesia, and she said, "a, okay...one migration to another...mabuhay ang mga Third Culture Pips."
I had an inkling on what she meant, but asked her anyway:

clarice: third culture...those who have had experiences with migration...you don't belong to the original nor the present...you create one that is distinct...that's how sociologists term it... it is coined mostly for children of diplomats and missionaries...i think everyone who goes through migration tend to be like that...
LNR: like OFWs... yup.
clarice: ye...

Clark Kent had this idea that the millions of Filipinos abroad - OFWs especially, should have for themselves a separate province - their belonginess to that province is not geographically determined but defined simply because they are outside the Philippines.... a Third Culture - a new Philippines, maybe?

The Filipinos in Banda Aceh would sometimes gather to celebrate some occasion - a despidida, a birthday - and anybody Pinoy is invited - doesn't matter if you know the host or even know what the event is. Just be there, because you are Filipino - and it's a Filipino gathering.

It's nice - when just being Filipino - becomes reason for celebration.

The Count of Monte Cristo

I found a student report that I did not a few years back for Philippine Institutions 100 (P.I. 100). I remember this class well because we had a professor who was quite a character. He was known to pick on his students - and he could be mighty insulting, offending people on purpose. He would lock students out when they are late - or tell them to enter through the windows. He would require us to don formal during our class reports but would ridicule us in front of the class while we stood awkward and uncomfortable in clothes we would never have worn on a school day. He let us memorize "Adios Patria Adorada" as our Finals requirement. Our class and many classes before us expressed hate for him during out of class discussions -- but I'm pretty sure we were very fond of him. Professor Ventura was one of those things that made our UP Baguio life, life at UP Baguio (does that make sense?).

I did a summary on the third part of the Count of Monte Cristo by Alexandre Dumas. Here was how I wrote it:

THE COUNT OF MONTE CRISTO
by Alexandre Dumas
Part III

A SUMMARY

The climax of Edmond Dantes' revenge had commenced. Caderousse, in his attempt to burglarize Monte Cristo's house, is betrayed by his own unwise choice of associations. The dagger was planted by Andrea himself, and Caderousse died believing in God's power upon Edmond's revelation of himself.

Fernand Mondego ended with his reputation thwarted. Abandoned and disowned by his wife and son, he confronted Monte Cristo only to come face to face with his worst fear. After knowing Monte Cristo's identity, Fernand puts a bullet in his head.

Villefort, whose house had become the house of death, proved that his wife was the murderer. He was also put into public humiliation when Andrea revealed the truth about his ancestry. Villefort went back to his residence and witnessed the death of his wife and son. The prucureur du roi, upon knowing the identity of Monte Cristo, ended up mad.

Danglars and his family parted ways. His reputation reduced to that of a bankrupt banker, he escapes from society hoping to acquire a considerable amount of money that does not belong to him. He is purposely taken into captivity by Monte Cristo's own band of bandit friends. In an irony of ironies, brought about by the death of some innocent lives at the course of his revenge, Monte Cristo forgave Danglars and revealed himself. Danglars was allowed free.

The Count of Monte Cristo concludes with the concept of a new beginning. The treasures are now in the hands of Maximillian Morrel and Valentine. Edmond Dantes, the Count of Monte Cristo, left with a new life, and a new love accorded to him by Haydee.

“He who has felt the deepest grief is best able to experience supreme happiness. We must have felt what is it to die, that we may appreciate the enjoyments of life... Live then, and be happy.... and never forget, that until the day when God deign to reveal the future to man, all human wisdom is contained in these two words – wait and hope.” - Edmond Dantes, The Count of Monte Cristo

Tourist Information Center

So, I'm from Baguio - and because I am from Baguio, my non - Baguio friends expect me to know much about the place - like where to go, where to stay, how much, etc. etc.
I'm a bad source for tourist information though, because I hardly go to the places where tourists frequent here in Baguio. In fact, I hardly go out.
But the latest query I got was this: "Where's a good dormitory-type place to stay in Baguio?"
My friend's office was to have a team building activity of sorts and because I'm from Baguio I should know this kind of stuff.
Fortunately, I've had a little experience on this. I have three recommendations, all good places, all accessible, all at the range of 150 to 250 per person per night

The venue of choice for large group lodging is Teachers' Camp - but you would have to make reservations in advance because it's usually fully booked during the peak months. Contact numbers below:

Teachers' Camp
Superintendent
Baguio City
074-442-3517; 442-6032

The Philippine Baptist Theological Seminary (PBTS) is also a treat to be lodged in - it has the pine tree laden ambience that Baguio should have. It's compound is not as expansive as Teachers' Camp - but it might just be the right amount of space one needs for a short quiet walk in the woods. There are many amenities within the compound - including a gym, a tennis court, and a cafeteria with indoor and outdoor tables. The outdoor tables are actually very nice - opening into a veranda and the compound's greenery for the view. Call 074-445-6063 for inquiries.

Maryknoll Ecological Sanctuary is a tourist destination in itself with it's ecopark and trail. Taking what is called a "Cosmic Journey," one may follow a trail that begins with the creation of light and ends with the habitation of humans into communities. Anyway, it's a nice place to be when you're in Baguio - but the lodging facilities are limited and the price slightly more expensive. The male and female dorms are around twenty beds each, I think. (074)442-4602 is the number to call.

There's my contribution to my friend's question. That should add to my good Baguio citizen points. :)

Oh My Gulay!

That's the name of a new vegetarian restaurant here in Baguio which is making quite a wave as I saw it featured on cable TV a few days back - although it's also co - located with VOCAS - the art gallery -- you really can't distinguish the two. So the best description for it would be an art gallery cum restaurant, and I think it's also a performance venue because of the presence of a stage - like structure on one area - and enough floor room for gong playing and community dancing.
It's one of them new stuff that's quite refreshing to have because you get to have somewhere new to take your tourist friends coming up from Metro Manila. But the place is also genuinely nice because it has a real "Baguio feel" to it.
What's more interesting is, the place is associated with Kidlat Tahimik (Eric de Guia, the artist and film maker) - whether as owner or conceptualizer - but a lot of the items are from the artist's Baguio house that was burned a few years back.
The restaurant and art gallery is located at the top of La Azotea in Session Road - that's five floors up, so you just keep walking the stairs until you get to a grilled gate that opens up to more winding stairs made of scrap wood and materials.
The -BER months are a nice time to be in Baguio - if in case you come up - this is one place worth the visit - while it's not yet cramped.

Gary Granada and His War with McDonalds

This has been circulating in emails - and you've probably received it too, but I'm posting it anyway. It's funny how this has escalated - but we cheer Gary on. :)

Forwarded Message:

My Personal Ordeal with the Arrogant Managers of
McDonald's

5 seconds

My name is Gary Granada, I am a Kaalagad
volunteer, and I need 5 seconds of your time to help
reduce the use of styrofoam in fast food chains.

What was meant to be a nice and simple Saint
Francis Day motorcade-march to McDonald's turned out
to be a nightmare. We were rudely treated by
McDonald's, to put it mildly. Weeks before, we
already sought a dialogue with them to reiterate our
concern for their reluctance to reduce their use of
styrofoam, despite their pledge to seriously attend to
it during our dialogue in 2002! (Jollibee said the
same thing, and while we are not satisfied with their
response, at least they made some effort to shift to
other packaging and serving materials.) We wrote to
them, went to their office, made follow ups, waited
for a response. The most we got from them was 'you
wait for our call'. They never called, never wrote
back, but verbally said they will assign
representatives to receive our motorcade's
representatives.

When we got there, their representatives turned
out to be the Citibank Building's security detail.
Ill-mannered and impolite, they told us that they were
told by McDonald's that they were not expecting us.
One of our staff went up to their 17th floor office to
find out whether they were willing to sit down and
talk matters. Told to tell us to wait, we waited.
The giant that it is, the bosses of McDonald's
apparently regard little children, nuns, mothers,
priests and concerned consumers as their employees. We
asked how long we were supposed to wait and got no
straight answer. Finally they sent word for me to
come up, just me, no one else. I thought these people
must have seen too many spaghetti movies, perhaps they
thought they had a hostage crisis. I was led to a
conference room that could easily sit six or seven
people and was greeted by two bright boys.

Think about it. Naglakad kami papuntang
McDonald's, at pagdating namin doon, wala man lang
bumaba para kausapin kami ng maayos. At pinatawag ako
nitong dalawang batang managers!

It occurred to me that there were far more basic
issues that plague McDonald's than styrofoam. Like
common courtesy. So I explained to these rich young
rulers that the courteous thing to do was to go down,
greet the delegation and ask how they may be of help.
I even asked them where they were schooled, because in
the public school in an obscure town where I came
from, they manage to teach such things in Grade One.
Their bloated bright brains must have taken up the
space that was meant for their ears. It felt like
talking to an electric fan.

Meanwhile I insisted that somebody from
Greenpeace, the Ecowaste Coalition, Franciscan
Movement for Justice, Peace and Integrity of Creation,
and the JPICC of the
Association of Major Religious Superiors of the
Philippines (our partners in the activity) be present
as well. They said they can only accommodate three
people at most. Fine. So I said I and our staff will
go down and we will send three people up. But at the
lobby, the three representatives we sent were barred
by security people from proceeding, again upon
McDonald's instructions we were told. It looked
hopeless.

We decided to wrap up the program when out of
nowhere a condescending woman materialized and
introduced herself as the media relations officer of
McDonalds. She said 'Why don't you go to Jollibee
instead, they're number One.' To which Father Ben
Moraleda replied, 'We did, and at least they are doing
something.'

On the side, irked by her audacity, Fr. Ben
quipped, 'And please take that hand of yours off my
shoulders, I don't like you.'

And all that commotion for a very simple and very
reasonable plan: that McDonald's reduce the use of
styrofoam by 50% within one year. McDonald's has once
again demonstrated its arrogance and incapacity to
appreciate the sincere and constructive efforts of
common folks to protect our environment. Unlike them,
we do not make money doing what little we can to help
make things a little better for everybody.

5 seconds, that's all I ask of you to help reduce
the use of styrofoam. Sa mundo ng mga mayayabang,
papansinin lang nila tayo kung tayo ay maninindigan.
Take 5 seconds to think twice before choosing where to
dine or order food.

WHEN YOU HAVE A CHOICE, DON'T CHOOSE MCDONALD'S

I feel sad for that woman and those two young
managers. So young, so successful, so ahead of their
game, so privileged; so rude, so arrogant, so lacking
in character, so bland. And I have since stopped
wondering why their burgers taste the way they do.

--------~~~---------

It will take a bit longer than 5 seconds, but it
will go a long way if you can email this page to
friends. Thank you~

GARY GRANADA

From: Gary Granada garygranada@yahoo.com
To: Dinah Fuentesfina dinahf@gmail.com

Sent: Friday, October 20, 2006 4:14:43 PM
Subject: McDonald's hires PR agency to invite Fr. Ben Moraleda and Gary Granada

On the evening of October 17, I got a call from Ms.
Bonjin Bolinao. She said McDonald's was sending a
letter to Kaalagad, inviting us to a dialogue. She
also asked me if it were possible to indicate in my
website that McDonald's already sent a letter to
Kaalagad (we received the letter the following day).
I promised her that I will publish her letter in my
website (http://garygranada.com). I believe the only
way we may have an honest to goodness dialogue where
public concern is concerned is for the public to know
the facts. So I'm publishing and circulating this
letter, as well as my reply to Bonjin, in fairness to
everybody.

If you haven't yet, please read for a backgrounder
http://garygranada.com/5%20seconds.htm

------------

--------------------

16 October 2006

KAALAGAD
Attention:
Fr. Ben Moraleda, Spokesperson
Mr. Gary Granada, Volunteer

Dear Fr. Moraleda and Mr. Granada:

On behalf McDonald¢s Philippines, we would like to
invite you to a dialogue with senior McDonald¢s
representatives on Thursday, October 26, at 9:30 AM at
Top of the Citi restaurant, 34th floor, Citibank
Center, Paseo de Roxas, Makati City.

McDonald¢s would like to discuss with your group their
efforts in addressing the various issues that you have
raised. They would also like to formalize their
commitment to your cause of reducing the use of
harmful substances in the quick-service industry.

Thank you for your attention. Please confirm if you
are available on the said date and time. Should you
have further queries, please contact Mr. Stevie
Martinez at 889-8332 loc. 131 or 0918-9258163.

Thank you.

Sincerely,

HCN Bonjin Bolinao
Managing Director
DDB Phils.
Ad Verbum PR

--------------------------------

And here is my reply to her letter (thru e-mail):

19 October 2006

Dear Bonjin,

I just read your letter dated 16 October, 2006. Thank
you for the invitation. Because we are a consultative
community, Kaalagad is currently consulting its
members and staff as well as our partners in order to
come up with an appropriate collective response.

Offhand, I would like to share with you my personal
view. (Kaalagad is drafting its official position.)

I am of the opinion that your letter is insincere,
insensitive and mercenary. It is insincere because
you write as though October 6 never happened. No
mention of the incident, no need for apology, no need
to explain why McDonald's acted the way it did.

It is insensitive because you picked a venue which is
one elevator ride from McDonald's's bosses' office,
while we have to commute all the way to Makati from
Quezon City. To add insult to injury, you picked the
very same building where we were harassed by your
security people and shabbily treated by your managers.


It is mercenary because I see PR written all over the
page. It is not even signed by McDonald's but by an
ad agency. We are not a 'market' that your college
advertising textbooks may have taught you to regard.
We are not a 'segment' of the market that you can
simply 'sample', 'profile' and 'contain' if need be.

Don't treat us like we are a PR problem. I cannot
take this veiled insult sitting down. So, to cut the
crap, I will excuse myself from any possible dialogue
with you or your client.

I have a very simple, doable and straightforward
suggestion to you though. Why don't you and
McDonald's use everything within your enormous
financial and media clout to discredit what I am
saying:

DON'T BUY MCDONALD'S BECAUSE:
1. McDonald's is arrogant - don't make them more
arrogant.
2. McDonald's uses styrofoam - don't encourage them
further.

I urge you to publicly discredit those two statements.
And I shall be very happy, even eager, to be
discredited and proven wrong if you really mean what
you say. Show proof in all your stores and offices
that contrary to what I am saying, McDonald's is a
humble giant that puts public welfare above profit.
That way, we all win!

I will publicly broadcast those statements. I know it
sounds laughable for I can't even afford to pay for
one column-centimeter of news item. A little-known
folksinger versus a transnational ad agency of a
transnational megacorporation is a like playing chess
blindfolded with one rook less. On the other hand, I
believe there are lots and lots of people who simply
seek goodwill and solidarity. And I suspect many of
them are fond of spaghetti and brewed coffee.

This will be the last time I'll write to you regarding
McDonald's, hell I don't get paid for writing letters
like you do.

Lastly, please do not take this letter as a personal
affront. Like you said over the phone, we have common
friends. I hope we are on the same page then, for
instance, in taking the illegitimate Arroyo government
to task over the specter of state-sponsored summary
executions and brazen political opportunism that has
become the norm in this country.

Tell you what, I hang out at Conspiracy (Visayas Ave,
Quezon City, across Shell, beside Equitable Bank,
landline 4532170). My favorite singers Cooky Chua and
Noel Cabangon (who by the way once did a commercial
for McDonald's) perform there. Our mutual friend
Conrado DeQuiros is a regular. You might want to
check the place out. Please let me buy you a beer, no
scripts, no agenda, but as real persons in a real way.

Sincerely,

Gary Granada

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

To help collate comments on the McDonald's issue,
please log on to the

PHILIPPINE CIVIL SOCIETY FORUM

http://garygranada.com/cgi%2Dbin/phpbb/

CLICK Institutions

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http://garygranada.com/cgi%2Dbin/phpbb/viewtopic.php?t=5

Thanks~

And please forward this information if you find it
relevant and appropriate, salamat po~~

Google Talk Glitch

My colleague and I had to do some work when our office internet suddenly decided not to run. We had to do an emergency run to the nearest 24 hour internet cafe downtown. We gave a little sigh because things were already running - we had all our web tools up - Pbwiki, gmail, yahoo messenger, msn messenger, and google talk. I didn't have to do urgent work and my colleague said it's ok to leave her there.

I decided to go back to the office and try to have the internet up again. We had left the wires and computers in disarray because the customer service representative from SMART (and it took them 30 minutes before picking up the phone) asked me to disconnect and connect some wires, etc., which I obediently did - but with no results (thus the run to town).
So I did go back to the office - put the wires back where they used to belong, arranged the computer paraphernalia very orderly around where they were situated on the table - pressed buttons and clicked icons and voila! We have internet running in our office again!
I informed the situation to my colleague and we agreed that she can come back after finishing some tasks. She said she'll also need to delete our files saved in the terminal she used and clear the internet cache. Security measures, so to speak - but things just didn't run as smoothly. First, although the files in the terminal were deleted, she realized later on that her flash disk was missing - and it was most probably left in the terminal where she was working. Isn't that ironic. She's taking it very well, actually - had it been me - I would have agonized to high heavens. Later on, one of our colleagues who was working on another location sent a message saying she was receiving strange messages from my first colleague's google talk/chat account. I said, "I am quite sure it's not coming from her, because she's right beside me now."

It took us some figuring out, and we literally experimented to prove our hypothesis - google talk does not sign out automatically when you sign in on another terminal. In fact, you can sign in one account in three different terminals and they would all be running (that was what happened to us). If you had one recipient for your messages that person would receive all the messages that are being sent from three terminals. My colleague had not been able to sign out of google talk from the terminal in the internet cafe. When our other colleauge sent a message to her, the next person who's working on the terminal would notice the message "bubbles" that appear when a message is received. The next person happened to be two rowdy boys who seemed to have enjoyed toying with the features of google talk -they sent voice mails (which were not very nice), interacted in the chat windows, received my voice call (I was hoping we could ask them to look for the flash drive and keep it so we can come back for it in the morning - but then, they said it was nowhere - although it's quite dubious if they are telling the truth) and we were supposed to be at work!

I thought that was stupid of google (yes, we have our responsibilities, yes) - but still, yahoo messenger did it better - because we're humans - we forget things. If I forgot to sign out of yahoo after I left a place, I could look for a PC where I am, sign in, which signs me out from the other terminal, and then sign out from where I am so I can sleep soundly at night because I'm certain no stranger is sending offensive messages to my friends from my account.
Anyway, I was finally able to tutor our new boy "friends" on how to sign out from the account. That was some glitch.

TEXT UNWISE

October 17, 2006

I’ve been saving this TEXTWISE card that I got last August, so I could complain about it. It seemed like a good idea – you get to send text messages to numbers abroad at only five pesos – but it was actually P7.50 because you have to pay P2.50 to the local telco which you are registered with every time you text. So I got myself registered for the TEXT WISE services on a SMART number that I was using (I wonder if things were different if I had used my GLOBE number instead).

So I got this message welcoming me to Textwise! And telling me save my Textwise number (which was 378 for SMART) and wait for further instructions. I was then told to register the number of the person I was to text abroad – and I got a message that I successfully did the registration. Now here comes the tricky part: I started sending messages according to instructions and everything was fine. I get a message that my message was sent and the amount of my remaining balance. The thing is, the Textwise system informed me that my messages were sent, but my intended receiver has received zero of my messages – as evidenced by his non-response. And I did ask if he received any messages from me during the past two days, and it really was zero.

So I took the effort to call the Textwise customer service – and it was not very simple because I had to have this passcode so I could have a landline transaction, because apparently, the inquiries I have been sending to the mobile numbers stated for customer service concerns was not responding to me. I was finally able to talk to a Custormer Service Representative who told me they would have to check with their Technical team and that I can check after two days by calling them again! Of course I wasn’t able to call back, but seemingly the next text messages I sent to customer service were received because I got messages (and it was in mixed English and Filipino in the common tone, not formal – so there was actually a human being pressing the keyboard responding to me, which was nice.) So this message said that their system really confirms that my messages were being sent and the problem might probably lie in the telco of the number I was sending to abroad. And that’s it. My problem did not get solved – and I ended up with a card that I bought, thought to have used, but was useless anyway. After a month, I received a message that my card had expired. Thanks, anyway. I have now thrown the card away.

INVESTING ON INVESTING OFWs

PLDT and /SMART conducted an orientation of sorts for people for their SMART Bro Computer Station – Pangkabuhayan package last August 9, 2006.

Upon entering the venue, I was surprised that the participants that were already there and that were streaming in were women – that didn’t seem to look like serious business people that I expected. In fact, they looked a lot like simple housewives – and there were a lot of them.

When the program finally came to a start there were already around 60 persons in the room, a handful of which were men – and many of the women, it turned out were returning OFWs from Lebanon.

It was funny when the guy from SMART’s marketing department started talking about their product. The objective of the event, I guess, was to encourage the women to take up businesses, or to improve their businesses by availing of the SMART Bro Pankabuhayan package and the PLDT Internet Café Plus franchising offers – and I think it was also an orientation for possible sales agents of these products (I didn’t get to finish the program – so I really didn’t get to the part of the internet café plus and the sales agents’ orientation.) So the SMART person, with all his enthusiasm as a presentor was trying to engage the audience - albeit vainly. He was obviously trying hard to connect, and it was quite laudible, but he has had his booboos. First, he or a presentor before him said, in a sort of scoffing manner, “Who sends mail through the post these days?!” When the women were asked how they communicate with their loved ones while they were in foreign lands, all of them answered they send postal mail. Only three to four people raised their hands when asked if they send emails, and a woman beside me whispered to her companion, “We don’t even know what that is,” when the presentor asked what the internet was for.

Anyway, at some point the audience warmed up a bit, and the speaker did not seem too dejected anymore.

So, among the information I got from sitting halfway through this supposed orientation (I thought it was an orientation for people who have already applied), was the PGMA Training for Work Scholarship Program where people can avail of scholarship coupons to train for Call Centers or Medical Transcription when they pass certain assessment tests. Welding and butchering are also offered – all for the purpose of improving the livelihood of people.

TESDA was one of the major players in the event. The women OFWs were contacted through previous TESDA organized activities. It’s good that companies are targeting OFWs to be investors, rather than just consumers. The millions of pesos from OFW remittances and hard earned savings can be put to better use than buying the latest cell phone or the most fancy jewelry. OFWs also need to be given alternatives in terms of business opportunities. For most, the sari – sari store becomes the most convenient option – but they end up as one sari – sari store among the rows of sari – sari stores that are already in their barangays.

I didn’t get my Pangkabuhayan package from SMART Bro even after I have submitted my application and necessary documents. It took too long. I did get a Smart Bro regular service though – it was impressively quick. Twenty-four hours after application and payment of fees, the installation team was calling me. That didn’t seem like something that happens in the Philippines, but it did.

Birthing Lupang Hinirang

A Campus Crusade for Christ – sponsored event last August 29, 2006 at University of the Philippines - Baguio.

I was glad when Alex asked me to include it in my prayers – that Christians are actually taking it among their agenda to include patriotism among the things that they should be concerned about.

FIRST TIME IN EUROPE

092206
I read from somewhere that if you've been to Europe once, it is likely that you'll be able to visit it again.

Acutely aware of the doodad of a purchase that Superman did to fly me to the UK, I am nonetheless grateful.

I like going places. I like going places with someone even better. London and the parts of Britain I've been to were awesome. As I gaped at castles, cathedrals, works of art, I felt it was almost unfair that Europeans had things for thousands of years. There's always a sense of wonder for a certain location, the human achievement, the work of nature - and I remember places for feelings they evoke. Having traveled considerably, however, the sense of wonder becomes default - after a while places to me become familiar. The feelings blur and places as they are are just places. Streets are just streets and corners are just corners.

The Best Airport in the World

Which is what the Hongkong International Airport claims itself to be...
A lot of Asian countries have something best or most or something to claim - some of them so frequent in so many places, you wonder which one is telling the truth.
But the HKIA is not so bad (Not that I agree it's the best airport in the world - I wouldn't know).
It's supposed to be a shopper's paradise.
We're window shopping around.
We're still in the airport because we missed our connecting flight.
Funny.
There were these comfy reclining chairs...
And we overslept.
The gate where we were supposed to board was at the other end of where we were.
So we're still here.

Doodading

I left for the airport, not really skipping.
When I filled the Philippine departure card, I noted how such bad taste it was that a public document should contain an advertisement for a private company (Smart Telecom).
My spirits picked up while waiting for boarding.
I got amused with the Cathay Pacific Filipino stewardess who spoke with a tone like a woman on the street - your boisterous neighborhood kumare.
Felt well enough to want to ride the luggage trolley - but it was not allowed. The Hongkong airport has a roof like the wings of the Wright brothers' plane.
There's suddenly a line of people behind me. They also want to use the courtesy internet service.
So I have to go.

Using Low Cost Airlines 101

1. A Philtranco bus/ shuttle has a regular schedule to and from SM Megamall and DMIA at Clark. The fare from SM Mega costs 300. There are four trips according to the boking andcreservation office of Philtranco - 6am, 7am, 11am, and 12 pm. There was an 1130 trip, however, when I arrived at the waiting area for the shuttle at SM. Reservations are recommended and can be made by phone at 851-8077 to 79. There were a lot of available seats though. I rode the 1130 am trip even when I was reserved for 12 pm. I thought I'd rather be early. There are no signages at the waiting area and no Philtranco personnel. I only got to confirm that I was at the right spot from the SM guards and from the other people who were already sitting at plastic benches when I arrived. The waiting and pick up area is located behind SM Megamall Building A, right across BPI and Watsons. It is along the same line as a row of FX taxis parked and waiting for passengers. The whole trip from SM Mega to DMIA took more than an hour and a half but less than two hours.

2. DMIA has an outdoor waiting area located at the far end of the building right beside the road corner and the sidewalk with street lights. This road is also where departing buses of Philtranco and Partas park and wait for passengers. Tickets for these buses may be obtained at tables set up by the bus companies at the arival area. Partas catersvto passengers that go to Northern Luzon, particularly Laoag. Passengers going to Baguio are dropped off at the Sison, Pangasinan stop of Victory Liner. Passengers pay separately for each bus line. The ticket obtained at the airport pays for the Partas trip from Clark to Sison.

Women's Section at the MRT

I got to ride the MRT today. It was a nice surprise that there's finally a women's section in the MRT.

I always thought that was necessary and it's nice to finally see it implemented. At least someone is thinking somewhere out there where the powers are.

I visited friends today... and felt what it means to "come home."

Homecoming, of Sorts 2

The Partas bus dropped us off at the Victory Liner station/ stop over at Sison. I thought that was convenient - at least the way Partas was able to arrange it.

It was raining when we got to Baguio. And that was three weeks ago. It's still raining now, although I heard a flicker of sun has finally come to my beloved hometown. Six weeks previous to my arrival it was already raining - everyday!

One guy said it was "deppressing" and that two more weeks of that will make him crazy. Two weeks of rain in Baguio made arriving in Quezon City quite refreshing. Although I love the rain, really - but it's weather that makes you want to stay home - and I had "business" to attend to.

There was a slight sense of disorientation when I was trying to look for a place. I actually got lost and got stressed trying to orient myself. Watching TV wasn't so disorienting. It's like you haven't left at all. Same shows, same TV personalities. Same drama formats.

So I'm back.

Now, what's next?

Homecoming, of Sorts

I’m back.
At least back in the Philippines.
I arrived at the Diosdado Macapagal International Airport at Clark on an Air Asia flight from the Kuala Lumpur International Airport - Low Cost Carrier Terminal (KLIA – LCCT). I had to spell that out because the words are a story in themselves.
Clark Kent and I spent the night at the airport. Like camping. We figured to buy a sleeping bag instead of staying a half night in a hotel. It was fun. Company matters though. The last time I did that (staying overnight at the airport) at the KLIA – LCCT, I just sat on one of the chairs through the whole night. I tried lying down on the rows of chairs… but I got up every now and then anyway.

Partas and Philtranco buses are already waiting at the Clark airport. There are attendants right before the exit doors and arriving travelers can ask information from them or make arrangements. The Partas buses go to Laoag, Ilocos and it’s probably the Philtranco buses that go to Manila. After buying a ticket from the attendant, I sat at the waiting area. Someone calls out that “Yung mga sasakay ng Partas, nandito na po ang bus” and that was my cue to drag my luggage to the bus. Passengers are allowed to bring the trolleys up to where the bus is.

I sat with a returning OFW from Singapore who came in from a Tiger Airways flight and who was also going home to Baguio.

Detachment in Process

My body was psyched to go see museums around Banda Aceh today. However, I have to do some of the dirty work that comes with travel, so here I am in an internet café checking for flight schedules. This is research work, really.

Music is playing overhead but they seem to have their playlist on shuffle I get a dose of hard earsplitting rock for five minutes and then a slow, mellow ballad after, and then a hip hop number. I suspect that this combination plus the insecticidal lotion I have on my arms and hands to ward off mosquitoes are giving me a headache.

Mobility 2

So... anyway, like I said, I now take the labi - labi... which is also cheaper because a bechak ride costs me at least 7,000 Indonesian Rupiah (roughly equal to 40 Philippine Pesos)... and that's when I take the bechaks that park at the market place where the drivers already know me and know where I'm going. If I take a bechak across the street when the market bechak drivers are not around, I give them 7,000 Rupiah but they complain saying it costs 10,000. I insist on the price that the other drivers give me but end up feeling bad that I had to argue with the driver. There's a certain dilemma that comes with it and I could justify my actions with the sense of justice as a rationale --- first I know that I can go ahead and give the Rp 3,000 difference and save both me and the driver the trouble of getting into an argument, on the other hand, it would not be fair to the honest bechak drivers who bring me to the same place and from a farther origin at a lesser price. Add to that, the labi - labi costs me only Rp 2000! (And that applies to the whole ride no matter how far you came from) Although if I take the labi - labi I can only go as far as the stretch of the main road... because I do not know which labi - labi goes along the exact route where I'm supposed to go.
It’s fine though because I get to walk. And that’s what I have been doing. I take the labi – labi, get down at the end of the main road where I cross a rotonda and take a ten minute walk to the office. It’s a good thing I do not pass too many people during the morning when I walk because a woman in shades does not seem to be a familiar sight – men, especially, seem to have that instinctive reaction to say “Hallo!” – and repeatedly even if you ignore them. I’ve started not to give it much notice. I have also started to listen to Stephen Covey on an mp3 player as I walk and that gives me another thing to concentrate on apart from minding the vehicles when I have to cross the road.
However, this routine would have to be short lived as this is my last week. It’s not so bad though... I’ve found a quiet stretch of a neighborhood street that I like; I walk with less fear, intimidation or indignance; I used more than two types of public transport system! This last one is a highlight... I think I associate my familiarity with a place when I have already figured out how to get around using the public transport system. At least, I got around.
Have a nice commute.. wherever you’re going. J

Mobility

I've acquired a new routine these past few days. Previously I would take a "bechak" - the Indonesian counterpart for the Filipino "tricycle" -- that mode of transportation where a sidecar that makes up the passengers' seat is attached to a motorcyle. The bechak has a very different side car though because it has a foldable roof. When it's folded down, a passenger can be thrown straight forward when an accident happens because there are no barriers at the side and front. The tricylce is also primarily made up of metal and encases the passenger to allow some greater feeling of safety and at least three persons can sit inside.
Anyway, I take the bechak from the basar or market which is very near my neighborhood. I have taken to own that term now - "neighborhood" - just last night when I was walking home, I actually felt familiar enough with a stretch of the place to call it mine, although I thought it was sad that I did not get to have friends from the neighbors (meaning the other houses outside our compound) - which are not many because there's really not much of a stretch of houses in our place - and even if there are, the houses are either walled or empty. We have enough "neighbors" though who we're acquainted well enough with - our housemates who occupy the other rooms in our house, our landlady and her grand daughters, the guys from the photo studio beside us, and the guards, occupants and other employee's of Clark Kent's staff house just across the street. We usually go neighboring there.
Anyway, and this is my second anyway, I started riding the "labi-labi" - this time the Indonesian or maybe Aceh counterpart to the Filipino "jeepney" or more appropriately the Visayan "multi-cab."
I know I said anyway the second time already, which means that I should have a long one coming - but I need to start looking that I'm doing work... so I'll describe my new means of mobility.. up next.

Ciao. :)

Reorientation

I took the morning off today. I did some housework to unclutter the space where I am to spend some time thinking of what I planned to do the weekend that passed that I did not get to do. Or just plain ask myself what I am supposed to do today, or for the rest of the month for that matter. In fact, I placed the calendar on a very conspicuous position so I could be made aware of the passing of the days. I don’t know, but when I looked at today and the weeks after it before the month ends, it seemed like so many days.

I have a pile of readings I wanted to read – but I’m really wanting to give purpose to my day, I placed them aside and thought I should write. Writing will probably do me better. When I am merely quiet, I can spend hours without anything running consciously through my mind. It’s like staring into blank space. My only achievement in that case would be having stayed quiet. Stillness has its own benefits. This moment, however, I want my brain to churn out ideas, or goals, a purpose for living, at least for this day or this week, or this month. An article about old people in Japan that I read a few weeks back had this quote from one older person: “People are happy as long as they have a goal.” It was pure wisdom. It also means that if I don’t come up with something, I am one unhappy person. I have to smile to that, or maybe chuckle, which I just did.

I had some scripts in mind, after a moment of thought. But there is one goal that could sum up whatever it is that I’ll end up doing. It was something which a newfound friend of mine said after a send – off meal --- “Just enjoy.” I think that’s what I’ll do.

Bumming

I am not employed now. I resigned. Just before July kicked in. However, I still go to one organization where I have volunteered my services, but I did not offer to put in a full day despite my freed up schedule.

It’s not a story worth telling – because it’s tiresome. But I have more time now, albeit no cash. Time, however seems to be running the way I want it – fast. Before we know it, our bags are packed and we’re ready to go. I’m almost in a rush to leave, actually, because I need to see my dentist.

Could you believe a toothache could actually motivate one to want for home?

The soul needs a physical excuse sometimes. And it takes advantage of opportunity when it comes.

Newsworthy

Clark Kent and I have been frequenting a restaurant set up at the World Food Programme – it was one of our best finds – nice food with generous servings and the ambience was homey enough we spend at least an hour there just soaking up the opportunity of eating comfortably outdoors. We’ve been going there so frequently the cooks already know us – greeting us or saying thank you in Filipino. It’s also the one place where we get to read newspaper.

We’ve been very impressed with the Jakarta Post – which is the English daily made available at the WFP restaurant. We would take our time to read through the pages and exchange articles, because we sometimes read different sections of the newspaper or different issues. Lively discussions would sometimes follow an article we’ve shared reading. We’d look for articles about the Philippines, and often we would see some picture and caption featured or some other item in the business section.

It was nasi goreng seafood dinner at WFP yesterday (Wednesday), and as our ritual we dug into the newspapers. A Filipino writer was in the opinion section – Neal Cruz of the Philippine Daily Inquirer. He wrote of caregiver openings for Filipinos that GMA was able to facilitate on her visit to Spain. Clark Kent read the article first and said “Ang pangit naman ng article na ‘to (This article sucks!)” after the first few paragraphs. I uttered the same comment when I got my turn to read.

In his attempt to criticize GMA, Neal Cruz in his article ended up degrading the thousands of caregivers that are working overseas sending precious dollars to our wobbling economy. He had successfully expressed how, to him, the caregiving profession was without dignity.
I’m sorry I don’t have the article with me now to quote some lines, or to give the exact title and date. His point, really, was to challenge GMA to create jobs for Filipinos in the Philippines, and not to gloat on finding “humiliating” jobs for Filipinos abroad. It was a good point – but he sort of bungled with how he said it, he ended up hurting countless OFWs instead of jolting GMA and her administration. At least that was how I felt, and I am not even a care giver.

Rained

It's a nice rainy day. Although I really couldn't see the rain because as I type this I'm cooped up in an office. I could hear it though and there's a cold, damp, grayness inside that makes you feel the rain even if you cannot see it. It's nice. It's a nice time for coffee.

Intricate Thailand 2

Hello Kulibangbang and Clark Kent,

Thank you very much for your e-mail.
I'm now sending you the full name of Bangkok city that you wanted to know. This is now 100% complete:
KRUNGTHEP MAHANAKORN AMORNRATTANAKOSIN
MAHINTRAYUTHAYA MAHADILOKPHOP
NOPPARAT RACHATHANIBURIROM UDOMRATCHANIWES MAHASATAN
AMORNPIMAN AWATANSATHIT SAKKATHATTIYA WISSANUKAMPRASIT.

I hope that you will go back to Thailand again.
With warmest regards.
Charlie

Back to Work

Seutui, Banda Aceh

Our boss decided to have us go home today since it’s a Friday.

I have a boss now, yes. I have started to formally work and be a part of the reconstruction and rehabilitation work here in Banda Aceh. My CV got to a small Irish NGO that’s doing rehabilitation work for sports facilities all over Aceh. I thought that was pretty cool that someone had taken the task of giving attention to these community facilities. Most of the more than five hundred NGOs here both local and international have given attention to building or rebuilding houses, clinics, hospitals, schools, and government offices. Things have just begun though so there’s that awkward, chaotic phase of trying to put things to a start. Since the project is also funded by the UNDP, so there’s that funder – contractor thing that could be quite stifling depending on how things are going. The guys that are working with us seem to be cool though – at least from the few meetings where I have met them. The first time I joined a meeting, I was quite surprised how they seemed so open, and they seemed quite sincere in providing support in coordination and ensuring a lot of feedback.

There’s supposedly a lot of field work in the sports facilities rehabilitation project. Our male colleagues however have the impression that I was hired for office work. Which is fine – there’s work that needs to be done at the office anyway – and I have opportunities to do low intensity field work, that is, “kaladkarin,” just a part of the entourage. I think I also have to understand that it’s also probably awkward to have a woman dealing with heads of villages who are men. I have yet to hear that our office is transacting with a woman village leader. I was able to attend three community meetings during the initial phase of discussions and in all those instances I was the only woman in the group and I wasn’t even in proper attire. At some point, I think that I was invisible, somehow.

I’ve had frequent walks to and from the office already. There is now a familiarity with the place and I now have my geographical comfort zones. I think, however, that I have developed a growing fear of the men in the places where I walk. I did not get used to the cat calls and whistles, uninvited hellos and the “psst-pssts” (we thought that was exclusively Filipino, we were wrong) and the ogling brought by my obvious mark as a stranger. There are many gentle men that I have met from the locals and nationals… but still, some reason, including the awareness of this culture’s bias on gender must have affected me. It’s not so bad.

I have also volunteered for a childrens’ INGO on an ECD project with the ECD advisor. Things seem interesting, especially since the end goal is to have a system in place – which makes every little task valuable. Even the filing and the researching that I’m supposed to do is worthy enough contribution to what could be a big contribution for Indonesian children. Of course, I’m probably just trying to perk myself up – give meaning to things, etc.

So there, I got myself something to do for the next three months that my husband and I are supposed to remain here. I remember a note posted in one co-worker’s desk back in the Philippines. She was hired to do some stuff with coordinating and fixing or whatever for a major program. It’s a good reminder. “Make a difference.”

Intricate Thailand

Dear Charlie,

How are you? You might remember us as Roby’s friends from the Philippines. It has been two weeks since we had that tour of Ayutthaya with you. I thought I should send you this email lest you think that we forgot about you – which of course, we didn’t.

We’re back in Indonesia now. Back to work and the routines of our current life. Just recently, we had another look at the pictures we took on our trip to Thailand. It was nice to remember all the magnificent places we’ve been to. It was hot and you’re right to say that after a while we’ll get bored with seeing temple after temple after temple. Still, till the last place where we went, we were very impressed. In Ayutthaya, for example, the ruins and the history behind them was something we really appreciated. It was a testament of the grandeur of Asia – for centuries. I believe the people of Thailand have a certain pride in having established kingdoms even before the western countries colonized other Asian countries. It must also be a source of strength for you as country to know that.

Before we left Thailand, we had a tour of the Grand Palace in Bangkok and the indoor Lying Buddha. It was amazing just looking at the intricate and elaborate details inside and outside the buildings and the structures. They were very beautiful and I could only imagine all the time, energy, and money that were used to complete them. More amazing, I guess, is how many of the things we saw were built even before the advent of technological advances or machines, for that matter. It was quite overwhelming but it was proof of human capacity and how else can you not wonder at what greater capacity there could be in the Divine.

We must not have thanked you enough. It was really great just knowing you and hearing your stories and your explanations about the things we saw or even the things we haven’t seen. I hope you already remembered the missing words in Bangkok’s full name. We hope, too that more people will get to know you. You are part of the nice memories that we have of Thailand.

We hope to have a chance to meet again in some way. But until then, we wish the best for you and your family.


Your friends,

Kulibangbang and Clark Kent

Singapore's Little Acts of Kindness

Singapore’s Little Acts of Kindness

This has been coming late, actually. It was more than two months ago when Clark Kent and I passed by Singapore – each of us coming from two different ends of the world.

I came from Malaysia, in one of Air Asia’s cheap flights from Clark/ Diosdado Macapagal International Airport. I took the acquaintance of my seatmates and I stuck to the Boholano Girl who was going back to Kuala Lumpur (KL) as a Jazz Singer. We had to sort our luggage at the Kuala Lumpur International Airport (KLIA) – she had to look for luggage she left behind, I had to look for a place to leave my luggage behind. It was originally intended that Clark Kent and I should meet at KLIA, but some schedule changes happened at the last minute so we had to meet at Singapore instead.

I stuck to my Boholano friend, as it was my first time in Kuala Lumpur. I thought it a blessing that I happened to share a seat with someone who could help me around a strange and new place. We rode the thirty minute express train to KL from the airport, but I had to find my own way now to the terminals leading to Singapore. The information desk at the train station was open, but the trains to where I want to go have left and the next train will be the next day. I thought I could sleep in the bus instead, having made my internet research, so I took the option of looking for the bus station. I did get myself to the bus station successfully and I waited around an hour more before the bus left at 11 pm. Because it was a six to seven hour trip, the bus had to “stop over” at a half-way point. Apart from that, however, we had to go down at immigration checkpoints – one for leaving Malaysia, and the other for entering Singapore. I left my research notes at KLIA and my working knowledge of what to do was left to merely following the lead of my fellow passengers – and our bus driver’s questioning statements when I wasn’t going down the bus when all the others have already left – He did not notice, I think, that I did not understand any word he said – except that I knew I was supposed to do something. I took a while in the checkpoint entering Singapore – not because I was smuggling illegal items – but because I thought that was the end of our destination. I realized later, after I followed the exit signs that the bus I was riding had left me – and I was not yet in the terminal where people going to Singapore should get off.

So there I was at Woodlands, at four am and no Singaporean dollars. I decided to find my way farther into Singapore from Woodlands. I did not want to get into the other buses who were coming in when the driver who said he would get me in his bus asked me how much I will pay. But first, I needed to get myself dollars to get around.

I walked to the exits leading to the Woodlands market. Because it was still four am, there were barely any stores which were open. I had to find a place to sit and I need to have a plan. The money changers at the market, I was told, will open at seven am. I set my counter to three hours and tried to sit, walk around, and think. At around six forty-five am, a money changer opened. Good thing I had extra Malaysian Ringgit with me – because they don’t change US Dollars. Now I had the money to get by. While I was sitting and watching, I noticed that there was a bus station right in front of the market. The plan was for me to get myself to Queen’s Park – because that was where the bus that left me was supposed to go – and then go to the Chang Mi Airport from there – where I was supposed to meet Clark Kent – through yet unclear mechanisms. He was flying in from London, and the only means we could communicate was through our Globe roaming mobile phones – and we could not use that as leisurely as we want to, no, we could not afford to use that as leisurely as we want to. There were only two messages I sent, in fact. One that said I’m lost in Woodlands, and the one that said, “I’m going to meet you at Chang Mi Airport, wait for me there.”

I took my time at the bus waiting area observing the people and trying to find a friendly face to ask. I got myself near someone who looked like he was a student, and therefore, pretty fluent in English. I assumed. The script was, “Which bus number goes to Queen’s Park?” And then, when I get there, I take the MRT to Chang Mi. Throughout our conversation, I guess he was interested enough to ask what I wanted to do at Queen’s Park. Knowing now that my ultimate goal was to get to Chang Mi, my friendly Singaporean friend (who did speak English quite well – and Chinese too), suggested to take another bus instead – which would go to the central bus terminal and from there take another bus that would lead straight to the Airport. Now that was information I needed coming just at the right time. It turned out too, that my friend is taking the same bus. But I did not stick with him this time, not wanting to burden him with having to take care of a stranger. When I got inside the bus, I did not have coins and I did not have a bus card, and I did not know what to do because there was no one else to follow who was in the same situation as I am. I tried to pay when I got down the bus, but the bus driver couldn’t take paper money and just let me down. That was a free ride I did not expect – and the driver did not holler or grunt at my ignorance – but rather smiled and let me off with a wave. How nice, I thought. How nice.

Now, when I got down, I already had a plan. Find the bus that goes to the airport – but I have to find change for my money first. I thought I’d give a thank you wave to my friend before I proceed --- but he found me first and volunteered to accompany me to have my money changed – and then walked me to the place where I was supposed to wait for my bus – and he was already two floors away from where he should take his own bus! Talk about hospitality! I could not do more than thank him profusely --- and I did not even get to ask his name. That was more than nice. More than nice. I think I had the best things to say about Singaporeans during those hours. But there was more.

Clark Kent and I eventually, and quite Providentially, met and found our way around Singapore. There were a few days to spend and it was a weekend. Sunday came and we thought we’d look for a church to attend. Because we were staying at the Inn at Temple Street in China town, I searched for the nearest church from the many maps of Singapore that we had.

Fairfield Methodist Church was only a few blocks away and the walk towards it was already interesting. We were running slightly late, however, because the English service should have started at eight thirty am. When the service was over, a man came over to us and asked if he could minister to us for a while. There was nothing to lose, and a few minutes of fellowship would not hurt. Mr. Chan Siew-Long found us a table and brought drinks. After the initial introductions, where we stressed we were only visiting and leaving the following day, he proceeded to tell us of the things they were doing at Fairfield – particularly, the Yong-En Care Center. Then we got interested. Fairfield’s heart for China Town so impressed us – especially the hidden poor rarely seen in affluent Singapore, we were asking more questions than we expected. Here was the church at work.

Mr. Chan was seemed also genuinely interested in us. Knowing we were just visiting, he knew the chances of seeing us again or of us going back to Fairfield would be closer to zero than anything. We were not dismissed however, instead we were given pointers on where to visit, a very interesting peek on Singaporean society, and knowing that we were Filipinos, directions on where the Filipino church was located and the schedule of their gatherings. Before we left, we were invited to have a look inside the church premises. The location itself was already a treat to us because the church building was culturally and historically significant in Singapore. We were lighthearted as we left, encouraged and inspired by the example of Fairfield. Now that was something nice. Nicer.

Singapore is impressive in itself. Its growth from a simple merchant trading port to a world-class economy is already an amazing story. People sometimes talk in disbelief of the discipline that the Singaporeans exhibited in their economic journey – but it is a story much envied by peoples and nations – especially its Asian neighbors.

I left Singapore with memories of grand structures, spic and span boulevards, awesome public shows and displays – things which I have taken many photos of. But I will also remember the things which I wasn’t able to catch with my camera. Little acts of kindness. Great little acts of kindness.

Reflections From Lamnga

As we approached the community center or meeting place, Nova, our interpreter, thought that only a few people came. We were supposed to meet the older people in this community. He had previously informed us that we were coming in as foreign teachers from one of the local universities in Banda Aceh. There was a seeming discomfort about the notion of taking in false identities using a legal institution but it was the most convenient way to do things at the moment. Apparently the academe invites more trust and introducing ourselves as a non-government organization (NGO) might prompt an expectation of aid. Something we do not really want to happen. Geoffrey, the overall coordinator of this Indonesia meeting, had sternly warned us the day before “not to promise anything” when we reach the community we were supposed to visit today.

Our team of five took off our sandals and followed Nova’s lead as he did the traditional greeting formalities. A sort of handshake, taking both or slightly touching each others hands and pulling your right hand back to touch your nose or your chest. There were initially twenty women inside, so there was already much hand clasping and touching and greeting. When the formalities were about to taper off, the men came from the other entrance of the meeting area, but the women from our team seemed not so sure of the appropriateness of doing the same greeting towards them. Nova and the other male member of the team did the customary greetings.

As we sat down, more and more older people came in until we ended up to around forty women and twenty men. The men were on our left side and the women were on our right. Some of the men sat on the middle of the room, facing the other men, creating a sort of wall between them and the women. The community leader or “katchi” had not yet arrived but we decided to go ahead with the introductions and the supposed purpose of our visit. Nova had to sit down while talking to one side, stand up, walk to the other side, sit down again and talk, and then he’d have to stand up, get back to our side of the circle of people and interpret the responses and comments. He is not a local of the place, and in fact had apprehensions on the people’s response because he was originally from one area of the country that was generally disliked by the local population because they seemed to have a hoard of government power among them. His feelings were unfounded when the meeting progressed, but he had difficulty since there were only a few in the group who knows Bahasa Indonesia. The Acehnese language was considerably different from the national language that another translation was required. There was one woman doing the interpretation for her group, and the men seemed to understand, nodding their heads as Nova spoke. It was only when the katchi, a handsome man in full traditional garb in his mid forties, arrived when the men started giving responses at length.

About a hundred families from the community were lost to the tsunami. The two hundred sixty families that are now living in the community in Lamnga have “barracks” as their homes for the moment. It is not a relocation site, however, since the people have already been living there before the tsunami. Barracks are temporary housing units that can house five to ten families. A single structure is divided into several doors so each unit is relatively private. The toilet and bath facilities are communal, and water sources are from water tanks donated by various international NGOs. The government owned water company had already installed pipelines but water has yet to be distributed from them. The nearest health facility is three kilometers away, and a clinic was to be set up in the camp. A children’s center was right beside the community meeting center where we were congregated. There is also a nearby school for older children. Education seemed important to the older people as their children and grandchildren all went to school, until college.

When the old men were asked what they do during the day, they said they do not work, but include among their hobbies watching soccer on the soccer field within the camp. Chit chatting and getting together was also a daily activity. They are currently living with their families and so most of them do not cook. The three men, who raised their hands when they were asked who among them cooked, were the ones who were living alone. Only six women in the group claimed they were living alone. The women plant, fish, and look for food to sell during the day. They do the usual household chores as well, including cooking. Although originally fishermen and farmers, not many go out to the sea anymore. Fishing is done in water trapped from the sea, and therefore not requiring boats and other fishing implements. The responses to their daily activities generated a stifled chuckle from our team as we figured the men chit-chat while the women fish, plan, and cook.

The number of older people who came to the meeting was a general surprise for the team. Highly cooperative and organized, they came to the meeting through the katchi’s mobilization. There was no formal organization in the community. I wondered if the meeting was something fun for them, as older people, knowing how the psychosocial interaction is very important, and whether there were similar meetings that happened before.

When asked when a person is considered old, they responded that fifty was considered old, when one cannot work anymore. Before the tsunami however, even those who were fifty were economically active. The tsunami has rendered, somehow a weakening effect, but probably not physical. One of their responses, as interpreted, was a “loss of spirit.” It was probably not generally the fear of another tsunami that does not lead them out to the sea anymore. Nova said it was more a sort of despair, that no matter what they do, no matter how they pray, their families cannot come back anymore. There was seemingly a lesser purpose to living when everything that you had been living for had been washed away. With the influx of external aid that came pouring to Aceh after the tsunami, I think that it is the spirit that also needs healing. The people’s resilience will manifest even without international NGOs helping them, but the trauma of the tsunami has not only affected their livelihoods, their health, their social protection rights, but most of all their hearts and spirits.

Looking at the older people that were all around us, we appreciated as a team how they did not seem desperate or depressed. The session did not become a wish list meeting and some of our team members actually had the impression that the older people we talked with were seemingly happy. They did not even scramble for the meager fruits and water that we brought with us to supposedly share with them. Not expecting their high turn out, each person could only be given a piece of fruit. The men took the role of serving as they distributed the fruit, to the women first. The others waited patiently for the items to be handed to them. Some of the men did not even get to have anything, but there were no complaints.

Issues of older people cannot be ignored. It is easy to ask organizations why they do not include older people among their agenda, and we probably know the answers as well. I think the better question to ask is “how can older people’s issues be included in organizations’ agenda?” It is less threatening and allows for less defensive responses. It is also asked in another perspective – that older people’s issues can be included in the agenda, because they should be, we just need to find a way.

The visit to Lamnga was too short to know the older people and the community well enough and come up with conclusions. Maybe someday HelpAge, or its partners, can go back and take more time to make friends. To listen to older people’s stories and what they have to say. To capture wisdom. To impart appropriate new knowledge. To assist them live life anew. To help them in their healing. But then, older people already know how to do these themselves, sometimes though it only takes a little collective action, a little twitching of the arm, a little pushing and pulling.

I hope that Lamnga’s older people will one day find the stronger of themselves – helping each other and other communities in their capacities as caregivers, healers, educators, and leaders. Because they can.

Letter From Banda Aceh, April 2006

April 2006
Dear Hotaru,
Singing from the nearby mosque is being played on the PA system – for all men to hear. Everyday is like that here in Banda Aceh. Five times a day, starting at five am, the prayers are blared from the speakers. Where there are no speakers, they are played on the radio so you could hear it anywhere you are. After a week of being here, I’ve gotten used to waking up in the mornings because of the prayers. Later this week, I think I have succeeded in sleeping through it, awaking only on the last few minutes before the place returns to the silence that rightfully belongs to the dawn. I manage to go back to sleep. There are several loudspeakers not all broadcasting the same thing and it becomes noisy sometimes. But I have to appreciate how you could not go through the day without being reminded to pray. Everything stands still at one to three pm on Fridays here. People stop, literally, and spend the afternoon in prayer. The expats around have to make sure they get to places where they ought to be, because the local drivers would have to excuse themselves at one pm.

Before we moved to a rented room, I have been spending most days this in the staff house where Clark Kent is assigned. I couldn’t yet manage to go out far by myself because I still haven’t figured the public transport system, and not many people speak English. I also add, as an excuse, the heat. It’s warm and I have to wear long sleeved shirts or blouses. It’s also not easy to go around. Banda is sort of like first class rural Philippines. Banda Aceh is quite a big place though. Not something you could readily tour by walking around.

No job offers came in the five weeks since I started sending out applications, so I guess the job hunting was not as easy as people said it would be – what with the multitude of NGOs that are here. But then, efforts have shifted to transitioning and turn-over work to the locals so job openings for organizations are mostly for locals. I’m shifting to offer my services as a volunteer instead, since it’s already off-timing to start work when Clark Kent’s contract is almost about to finish.

Clark Kent and I temporarily stayed at one of their office’s staff houses. It’s a nice big house with nice big rooms, each with its own bathroom. There’s a garden outside and some fountain-like structure inside, although it’s not working. The owner must be pretty rich. There are quite a lot of houses like this around. I think it was the week before when we had a tour of some of the houses in other areas – also relatively large houses. Some of the Indonesian staff from Clark Kent’s office, knowing we were looking for a place to rent, wanted to help us look around. People were actually willing to move out of the houses they were occupying so they could rent them out to expats ---- at gold mine prices. The influx of international NGOs here has created some sort of gold rush. It is very disturbing for me. This whole rebuilding and rehabilitating Banda Aceh thing is very disturbing for me. It has been a year since the tsunami. During that time, hundreds of people came and are still coming, millions of dollars were spent and are still being spent…. And yet there are still 60,000 people living in tents in the areas affected by the tsunami. This does not include the area where I am. Or where I see most of these foreign samaritans are.

We are now staying in rented room across the staff house. This one belongs to a nice widow whose husband died recently. Five granddaughters whom she has taken care of herself live with her, and one of them is about to graduate from medicine. She would always invite me to come visit her because she knows I stay alone in our room and she’s wanting company because she’s alone during the day. We’ve had some very interesting conversation.
Except for the occasionally disturbing thought that I am not producing a personal income with my time, I’ve been appreciating this time of not having to be tied down formally. I get to have a lot of quiet time. I still don’t have God’s answer on the other purposes of why I am here – including, for example, my contribution to society… but I have learned enough of God that there is also purpose in waiting. So for now, I wait. And try to make my soul ready.

I hope all is well for you this time, wherever you are.


Write me.

Kulibangbang

Dress Code

It's amazing, how one pair of shoes, or one blouse, or even a clip on your hair could change everything about you. Power in small details.

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Blues of Permanent Employment

Should I be glad, I wonder, that I am not embroiled in government office politics. Tenure, position, promotion, etc. I think it takes people away from the real job... and it's sometimes sad how these things become the issue.

Sickening. It's sickening. I think that is what I feel.

Jealousy Pill

Wrote this not recently... so it's old emotion. Just for the archives.

There is a cure
To my pain
If I could
Fall
For you
As I did for him
If I could
Whisper
Your name
With a fondness
As I would
His
If I could
Touch
With the same
Tenderness
The works of your hands
If I could love you
As he did
Because
You will
Never
Go away
And it reduces me
And it hurts
But if
I could love
You
If
I could.