It has been many weeks since my last blog update and I am trying my best to keep my word. So where do I begin? I’ll start with my arrival to training site.
Three weeks ago, we arrived at our training site in the city
of Dinalupihan. We settled in with our host families in the barangay of San
Ramon. This is my first experience living with a host family and so far it’s
been a pleasant one. I have lovely host parents, Vangie and Donald Santos. They
had four children…all boys! I went from being an only child to having four
siblings. The youngest is 4 years old so we do a lot of coloring and racing
with toy cars. He’s the cutest. My host father is an excellent chef and is
showing me the ropes of Filipino cuisine. I tried some pretty funky stuff the
first week like fermented rice porridge with fish. Don’t get me wrong, I love
fermented foods. After eating kimchi on
a daily basis in Korea my palette actually wanted the sour stuff but in this
case I just had to say no; politely, of
course. They like to watch my reactions
to the dishes they put in front of me and I don’t mind it.
They have introduced me to the neighbors and have taken me
to their church in Lubao. The weekend we went to service, they also took me to
a great birthday party with lechon baboy, a Filipino specialty I have been
dying to try since Anthony Bourdain elaborated on what it was. It’s a
wonderfully barbequed pig, moist and divinely flavored. As you can see here,
the head sits in the middle of the table. It’s awesome. In addition to filling
my plate with baboy, pancit bihon has also become a favorite of mine in the
last couple of weeks. It’s rice noodle with veggies and really delicious. The
simple foods are always the best.
Adding to the home life comes the professional training. My
teaching site is San Ramon Elementary located in the heart of the barangay. I
have been assigned co-teachers in 2 different grades, 5th Grade SPED
(advanced students) and a regular 3rd Grade classroom. I am enjoying
very much getting to see their teaching styles and interactions with their
students. However, it has been tough
getting to come in on a regular basis because of the school cancelations caused
by heavy rains.
On the subject of heavy rains, I would like to share with
you the most impactful experience of my short time in Peace Corps. It also
classifies as the scariest 2 days of my life. I don’t mean this lightly and I
will try my best to elaborate on the experience. So here goes:
San Ramon is one of the lowest lying areas in Bataan province.
It’s quaint and small and surrounded by many rice fields. The background is
scattered with mountains and hills and is really quite beautiful. Because of
where are homes are and the heavy typhoon season, San Ramon has been
experiencing flooding. On Monday night
of last week, our Language Cultural Facilitator, Ate Fe, made the call that we
had to evacuate our homes and head to higher ground for fear of more intense
flooding in the area. She called me around midnight and five minutes later she
was at my door step telling me it was time to go. I frantically packed my
backpack with a few shirts and grabbed my rain boots and some flip flops. I
loaded into the van expecting to find the rest of the group in the van but Ate
Fe informed me that she was still monitoring the other homes. She explained to
me that because I lived near the rice fields the realization of faster flooding
was more prevalent. I only live around the block from the LCF house and I
normally walk to it for language in the afternoons. Our driver, Tano, did not
approach the LCF house because the flood water had already risen to knee height
and he feared getting the motor wet and risking a real evacuation. Ate Fe and I
unloaded from the van and began to walk through the water to the gates of the house.
I began to trek through the water and my rain boots instantly filled with
water. At this point I was more annoyed than anything because my boots had
submerged with murky water much of what happens to be sewage and waste. I
passed through the gates and into the garage of the house and their stood my
cluster mate Hunter. She laughed as I took off my boots and poured the water
from my boots. Ate Fe looked worried and told us to head to the neighbor’s
house to take a rest for the night. She hadn’t made the call on evacuation yet
and told us it was the safest place to be. Hunter and I walked back through the
water and over to Gina’s house. Ate Fe explained to her our situation and took
us in without reservation and led us up to the second floor bedrooms. Hunter
and I were still in a state of confusion as to what was happening so we stayed
up chika chika’ing for a few hours. Our nerves really didn’t let us relax much
and we drifted in and out of sleep. I
remember closing my eyes and listened to the booming thunder in the background
and could make out the lightening coming in through the curtains and reflecting
off of my closed eyelids. I must have fallen asleep because I heard a knock at
the bedroom door and Hunter telling me it was time to go. Little did I know we
were really going downstairs to have a cup of coffee, some freshly grilled
spam, and pan de sal. By this time, a few other cluster mates and our other LCF
and TCF drifted into the house dripping wet from wading through the water. We
tried our best to enjoy the breakfast
and speculated over what was really going to happen over the next few hours.
The hours lingered by and we received word that the other
half our cluster had been evacuated and were heading to a different city to
escape the heavy rains. We soon came to
the realization that we would be spending some time in Gina’s house. We didn’t
know how long but we knew it would be awhile. As we sat downstairs in the
living room trying to pass the time we noticed the water coming up to the
driveway and up to the front door of the house. Gina knew the bottom floor of
the house would flood and we began moving furniture up the stairs to the second
floor. The refrigerator and gas stove were also moved. As the day lingered into
the early afternoon I started to panic. The water had risen so much, maybe 4
feet during the morning hours, that the next door neighbors climbed on their
roof and into the 2nd floor balcony of Gina’s house to take refuge.
Many neighbors and their children floated in and by the afternoon Gina had
taken in over 30 community members. My cluster mates and I would periodically
go out onto the balcony overlooking the main street and looked down completely
perplexed at the strong muddy current racing down the street. None of us had
ever seen such a sight. I can only compare the sight to the flash floods that
you see on CNN during a hurricane.
The thought of whether or not we would have to move up to
the third floor or even the roof was at the front of our minds and with the
uncertainty came a great deal of sadness. We were trapped and we knew that
getting out that evening wasn’t an option. Some of us sat in the corner of a
room and let our minds take us off into the rice fields. Others read books and several occupied their
minds by coloring with the small children around who oblivious to the severity
of the situation. Eventually the rain began to fall harder on the roof, the
thunder to boom even louder and the lightening much brighter than the previous
night. By 7 pm, the sky had darkened and we had no other choice but to force
ourselves to sleep. Most sat sleeping up against the cement walls, others on
cardboards boxes, and even 3-4 people on a twin bed. It was an unsettling to
sleep that night wondering or not we’d wake up to water coming up to the second
floor. I eventually drifted off, but in between dreams had small panic attacks.
I wondered whether it was better to just hurl myself into the flood water and
drift off somewhere. Yes, my mind did get to that point of desperation and
helplessness. The electricity and water had been turned off hours before and
the flickering candles illuminated the hallway. Morning came and we awoke to
breakfast being served to us, fried spam, hot dogs, and rice. (Despite these
calamities, Filipinos know how to keep from starving. It was incredible to see
men wading through neck deep water with 20 kilo bags of rice on their heads.) After
a small portion of carbs and protein, I wandered back to the balcony to see
what we would be dealing with. To our surprise the water in the street had gone
down and the hope of getting out crossed our minds. I slowly walked down the
stairs to see what the water level looked like and it and amazingly it was
gone. The pristine marble that we saw the morning before was sparkling again
like new but the paint on the walls were bubbled up and discolored from the
brown water.
We were in contact with our training manager, whom was
trying every method to evacuate us. However, after this phone call, she said
the water was still too high and they had to move onto a different cluster. At
that point they could more easily be evacuated. My heart fell back into the pit
of my stomach and I began to weep once again. After the cry, I forced myself to
nap hoping that it would make my desperation subside and essentially make the
day pass more quickly. The rain continued and with each new wave of water
falling we prayed that it would settle enough for us to evac that afternoon.
The hours continued to linger on and by late afternoon our training manager
confirmed that she was coming to rescue us. I packed up my Kindle and stuffed
back into my pack. A few of us went downstairs and stood in the doorway
waiting. The minutes morphed into hours and the glimmer of hope that I was so
desperately holding onto slipped away once again. This time it was easier to
accept. Spending another night on a twin bed with 3 other people was going to
be okay. After a laugh therapy, I went back to the balcony upstairs. Before I
knew it, one of the Filipina girls said, “Is someone coming for you because
there is a very large truck outside for you.” We darted outside and there she
was, Ginny, our training manager. She was on a large army carrier with the
local police ready to get us out. The truck was our Noah’s Ark and Ginny was at
the head of the boat. We thanked Gina profusely and nearly hurled ourselves
down the stairs and out into the driveway. The rain was picking up and the
water at this point was still mid thigh but it didn’t matter because we were
saved. The police took our bags and the helped us load onto the massive
vehicle. We embraced Ginny and tears of joy came streaming from her face. Ginny
is a small woman but tough as steel. During IO she was fierce and very
intimidating but in that moment I knew she was human. I could tell from the
look in her eyes that she hadn’t slept in days and the worry of desperation
shone just as greatly on her face as it did ours.
After everyone had settled themselves as best they could on
the carrier the truck proceeded down Diwa Street and out to the main highway.
The streets we had been walking on everyday had turned into rivers and were
almost entirely abandoned. Time had stood still and all I could see was murky
water and garbage. The Chow King Restaurant where we went for internet was flooded
and the church where we attend mass was still underwater. The carrier
eventually emerged to the main road and we met up with our driver who would
take us to meet with our other cluster mates who were safely evacuated 42 hours
before. The sky had turned dark and angry again as we loaded the van. The door
closed behind me and I was finally able to relax. I prayed hard that whole
ride. We arrived later at the hotel where the others were and as soon as Tano
pulled up, the rest came running to meet us. We were reunited and it felt
beautiful…safe.
After being force fed slices of pizza and chocolates galore,
we filled the rest of the group in on the situation. I told them of my
breakdown without embarrassment and they all respected that. The following morning
the country Director, Denny Robertson met with us to debrief and got a first
hand glimpse of how terrifying the whole ordeal was.
It’s been a week and a half since the flood and evacuation
and I’m still adjusting to the change. We are no longer living with our host
families because of the risk of possible flooding and the short amount of
training we have left. Last Monday we finally went back to assess the damage
and meet with our host families. I embraced my host parents out on the front
porch and then entered the place I had called home. A great deal of their
possessions had been lost. The linoleum had been ripped up, the wooden cabinets
cut from the walls, and grains of rice strewn about the backyard. We walked
around the house and the watermarks on the walls were waist high. The front
door was discolored, the TV and stereo system broken, and many photo albums
destroyed. It was a sad sight but amongst the depressed state of my bahay, my family was intact. I knew they
hadn’t slept in days and the worry was still present but they were OK. I
couldn’t really do much because they had already cleaned the house and thrown
away what was no longer salvageable so I opted to fold clothes. My nanay said
that I would make a good asawa (wife)
because I knew how to fold very well. After a quick merienda with my host family, we all proceeded to San Ramon
Elementary to help with clean up.
Unfortunately, nearly all books had been lost or damaged in
the flood and the desks were caked with mud. We helped the students and teachers
pick up a great deal of trash and helped scrub desks. All were appreciative of
our help and their smiles ensured us that everything was going to be OK. Seeing
the immense amount of trash has prompted the idea for our community project and
one that we are anticipating to be a success. On Wednesday, August 22, (which
is also my birthday, wink wink) we are presenting our idea for a waste
management program at San Ramon. As a group we will be discussing the problem
of litter and its effects on the environment. With the launch of the campaign
we will be placing garbage cans in the school and also promoting it with a
poster and slogan contest for the whole student body. Our main goal is to
empower the school community to be conscious of their output of waste and how
they can contribute to a positive change. It’s an ambitious program to
establish but I’m hopeful that it will be sustainable.
From the last few weeks I’ve learned a great deal things,
not only about myself but about Peace Corps. I’ve learned that I’m stronger
than I ever thought I could be. Before joining Peace Corps I knew I had the
ambition and drive to be a good volunteer, but after enduring this hardship I
feel prepared to encounter anything on a physical and mental level. From now
on, I will give myself more credit and believe that I am possible of doing
great things.
Lastly, I want to close with a snippet of today’s
activities. This Sunday morning, our Dinalupihan group was greeted by Harry K.
Thomas, Ambassador of the United States to the Philippines. He spoke simply,
but with profound meaning. He said, “Don’t bother making plans but do well in
everything you do. Life will work itself out.” I can think of no better mantra
to live by. The last 6 weeks have been a whirlwind of happiness, bliss,
desperation, and confusion. Regardless of the struggles I am sure to encounter,
I will aim to be resilient and the change I wish to see in myself and
especially in my community.
Best of the best,
KP!
No comments:
Post a Comment