Tuesday, May 23, 2006

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.”

Monday, May 22, 2006

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

Wednesday, May 03, 2006

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.