Thursday, May 31, 2007

Final thoughts . . .

Today is the very last day of my service. June 1, 2007. My official Close of Service date. And in a few hours I will be boarding a plane and flying off into the wild blue. But before I go, I feel a need to post one final reflection.

This experience really has lived up to the old Peace Corps motto of "the toughest job you'll ever love". The toughest part wasn't the work, however, it was learning how to live and work in a completely unknown culture. One major difficulty for me here was that on the surface, it doesn't look so different. People dress in western styles, often speak English, go to McDonalds and Starbucks, and sport snazzy cell phones. Appearances, however, can deceive.

Just beneath the western veneer is a unique blend of distinct cultural differences. These show up in the expectations, values, time management, languages, worldviews, behaviors, and general attitudes of the people here. Sometimes the differences are overt . . sometimes covert. The covert ones are the toughest. It's tough to discern what the truth is sometimes, because people never want to "offend". What sometimes goes unrealized here, though, is that agreeing to do something simply not to "offend" . . . and then not following through . . . can even feel MORE offensive. Alas, just an example of a cultural difference that can generate frustration.

On the other hand, some of the cultural differences here have been a true source of comfort. Like the willingness to help someone with whatever - whenever they possibly can. For example, last year when I was going home to visit the U.S. I left my site in the afternoon and went to Baguio for the afternoon. I planned to take the midnite bus to Manila and then board my flight the next morning. At around 8pm in the evening my host sister texted. She had gone in my room to shut the windows and noticed my passport on my table. Fortunately, she realized I would need it and texted me.

At that time of day there are no rides going to my site, which is two hours away from Baguio. I was visiting with a teacher friend when I got the text. She didn't have a car either, but she automatically took it upon herself to help. She went next door and got her neighbor to get his jeep out of the garage and take me to get my passport. I texted my host sister and asked if my host brother, who has a vehicle, could meet us halfway. She didn't tell me at the time, but he was at a party, so she went to the party and pulled him away and told him he needed to do this thing for me. In the end, with the help of my friends along with someone who didn't know me at all . . I got my passport just in time to make it to Manila in time for my flight. This is just one example of the way the people here are always willing to accomodate and help.

Many times throughout my service, I had heavy loads to carry (books, bags, boxes, etc.) Never did I have to carry a load if there was a man or boy or girlfriend (who would find a boy) to help me. I have to say, here in the Philippines, chivalry is definitely not dead. . . and neither is good, old fashioned assistance. It's been nice.

So there were good times and tough times . . . highs and lows. But never have I regretted this choice. It has been a two-year lesson in life, death, love, indifference, togetherness, solitude, friendship, loneliness, and oh-so-much more.

In fact, I suspect I will be recognizing and realizing lessons I learned here for the rest of my life. I'm so glad I came. I'm so glad stayed. And I'm very glad that I will be home soon.

I have one last thing to do while I'm on this side of the world. I need to see more of Southeast Asia and some of China. So, I will be back in the states in five short weeks . . . and I look forward to seeing all of my family and friends.

And for all of you who have kept me in your thoughts, prayers, and emails . . . THANK YOU. I have felt and appreciated all your love. Thanks for supporting me as I discovered "how far I would go" to do "the toughest job I ever loved".

Okay . . love you all and see you soon!

Friday, May 04, 2007

Life goes on . . .

It's true. Life really does go on. No matter how many tragedies happen around us, the world continues to survive and even thrive. And so it is. We are survivors.

I have been in Cebu City for the past two weeks being a facilitator at an English Language Camp for 137 teachers from Mindanao. The experience has been really wonderful, despite the difficulties. I came here wondering if I would be able to focus on the tasks at hand, given all that had been happening prior to the camp.

However, coming here turned out to be a great decision. The participants were so enthusiastic and involved in our classes that I really fed off their energy. An additional perk was that two weeks was long enough to really get to know a lot of them and learn about their lives in Mindanao. We all had a great time.

Unfortunately, we did experience a great loss during the course of the camp. One of the participants, a 41 year old woman, died. She started coughing one night and couldn't breathe. She went to the hospital about 3 am. They discovered that she had fluid in her lungs but were unable to remove it because her heart was too weak. She died of heart failure. So sad. She was a beautiful Muslim woman with five children. She and her family lived in Tawi Tawi, Mindanao. The participants from her region organized a memorial service; so yesterday we had a tribute ceremony for her after the closing ceremony for the camp.

Today, we are trickling out. Some of the participants left Cebu last night, some this morning. I will fly out around 4 this afternoon. Some will leave tomorrow. We all have places to go and things to do.

I will be flying back to Manila where I will spend the next week. I have medical and dental exams to undergo before I am free to leave the country. Also, I will be seeing and saying farewell to several of my batchmates.

So many goodbyes. So many "last times". Emotionally, it's tough. Even though I know that with every goodbye there is a new beginning. . . the goodbyes still sting. As well they should. If it didn't hurt to leave my fellow pcvs, then it would probably be because we never bonded. But that's certainly not the case. I think we have all been each other's 'life support' at one time or another during the past two years. And we all know that we will never pass this way . . in this way . . again. And so it stings for a short time.

And then we move on to the next stage of our lives. We come home. We reunite. We readjust. We reintegrate. And we begin again. We begin anew . . .

Life.
It goes on.