Until Next Time

I'm writing this last post from Singapore's airport. My flight left Manila this afternoon at 4:50 and I'm to arrive back home in Chicago tomorrow afternoon. It's unbelievable to think how fast the time went during my stay in the Philippines; it seems like just yesterday my family was dropping me off to start this adventure. And you know what? I have a feeling that I'll be repeating variations of that statement millions of times to come.

I've learned plenty of things this past year off of school. As a matter of fact, I would argue that travelling is the best way to learn. Not only does it push you out of your comfort zone and force you to become independent, but it does extraordinary things to your perspective of the world and of life in general. Plus, it serves as a great reminder of how fast time flies. However, I must warn you: travelling is addictive.

I'd like to thank my family and the amazing people I met in the Philippines for making my stay so memorable. I cherish the time I spent in the Philippines and yes, yes OF COURSE I'll be coming back. I can't wait to return & when I do...maybe, just maybe, I won't whine about the heat. As much.

And for those of you who followed (or even just casually read) my posts, thank you & I appreciate it haha.

So Philippines, this goodbye is only temporary. Just the end of one adventure and the beginning of another...




Antigua here I come!

Final Days in Manila

I got back to Manila a week ago Saturday and spent pretty much the whole day just hanging out at home. The following day I went shopping to get pasalubong for my family back in the States and spent the rest of the week starting to pack my things up (...and trying to run off all the calories I ate in Dagupan). I did have the opportunity to go to Tita Ba's though and was thankful that Lola Fanny was more than willing to teach me to cook my favorite Filipino dishes: pancit and fried lumpia. (Pancit is a clear-noodle dish and lumpia is eggroll.)

Before coming to the Philippines I had this silly fear that by the time my siblings, cousins & I become the eldest in our family, we will have lost touch with the Filipino culture. I always knew I'd want to be called "Lola" when I'm a grandparent, but wasn't sure what I could do to retain the other pieces I didn't want to lose. I want to know that the future generations of my family will be familiar with Filipino food and hope that when they hear a second language at family parties, they are just as unfazed by it as I am now...

Well people, I can happily announce to the everyone that that fear is now obliterated! Having met and spent so much time with my family here in the Philippines, a serious connection has been made. Not only will we stay in touch once I leave, but returning to see them is something I'm already looking forward to doing. And even though cooking is definitely not a hobby of mine, I decided to make sure these recipes lived on.

Lola Fanny was flattered that I asked her to show me her ways in the kitchen (she's a great cook) so she welcomed me over so I could learn. By the end of the day, I realized that the recipes for pancit and fried lumpia are not as mysterious and difficult as I once thought. (As for my fear of my future children growing up in a monolinguistic household, I've decided that won't be a problem. Whatever language(s) they speak besides English will depend on where we're living in the world...!)

Lola Fanny wrapping the lumpia. The pancit
is in the strainer right next to her.

Wrapping the lumpia was harder than it looked. After
comparing mine to hers, I asked her to show me
the technique a few more times before continuing haha.

Rolled & ready to fry!

Yesterday my family here in Manila got together for my despedida, or going away party. They cooked my favorite foods and we were all able to hangout together one last time before my flight. Many hugs and kisses were shared and we promised to stay in touch. I was asked countless times when I'd be coming back and was delighted to hear that some of them have plans to come visit in the near future.

After taking a series of nice pictures, suddenly everyone was shouting,
"Wocky! Wocky!" I looked around because I had no idea what was
happening and had to lean over to ask my aunt to clue me in. She says,
"Wocky, you know. Like crazy or silly or something." I had to
laugh at that. "Wacky," I said to myself. "Got it."

Wrapping Up Dagupan

I ended up being in Dagupan longer than expected...which, I suppose, was to be expected. I had originally started packing for a one week stay but decided to throw in some extra clothes just in case I ended up there for a week and a half. Well, my week and a half was about to end when Uncle Argie (Tita Karen's husband) invited me to accompany them on their family trip to Sagada. (See post below about my Sagada experience.) I didn't have to think about it before quickly replying, "Yes please!" So on that note, my week and a half magically turned into a solid two. Upon returning to Dagupan, I realized I wasn't ready to leave town without spending some more time with the rest of the family. So if you've caught on to how this pattern goes, I extended my two week stay by an extra half week. But by this point I still wasn't really ready to head back to Manila- not because I didn't want to see my family there(!) but rather I felt that these past two weeks still weren't enough with the Gutierrez side of my family- however, my time in the Philippines as a whole was beginning to dwindle at that point so it was time to start wrapping things up everywhere.

Once I returned from Sagada I was able to hang out with Uncle Ricky's family, eat way too much with Uncle Ramon's family, and spend time with my younger cousins in Tita Karen's family.

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Here's a recap of how things went these past few weeks:

I spent my first week and a half in Dagupan at Uncle Butch's house, which is located on the same property as the family bowling alley. Uncle Ricky, Tita Yasmine & their two young kids live in a house that's attached to the bowling alley. So, since they're neighbors, everyday was spent with them as well. Every morning around 8:00, Uncle Ricky would come knock on my bedroom door for breakfast. We'd eat as a family and hang out, sometimes leaving the house to go run errands, before eating lunch together too. I'd take a nap, more hanging out would happen and before you knew it, dinner time had arrived. (Yes, food is such a big deal here that our days revolve around it.) This would also be the time that Uncle Butch arrived home from work and usually with something to share. So every night I felt like a little kid again at dinner, waiting for the front door to open so I could see what surprise Uncle Butch was bringing home for me. Would it be a fresh papaya? The delicious native coconut dumpling dessert, bichu-bichu? Or my favorite rice cake, puto?

The second week was spent at Tita Karen's house. She has four kids (one 15-year old, a 13-year old, a 10 year-old, and a 3-year old) so the house was full and fun. They were all so nice it was unbelievable. One time, when Isa (the 15-year old) heard me mention to her younger brother that I didn't eat dinner (I thought my mid-day snack would be enough but realized I was wrong around 10 PM) she came out of nowhere half an hour later and said, "Here Rachael. I made this for you because I heard you didn't eat tonight." ... I live with a 15-year old back home so naturally I thought she was kidding. I'm pretty sure the first thing I replied with was, "What?" (Of course I genuinely thanked her after my initial surprise.) But anyways, when I wasn't spending my time eating specially-prepared sandwiches, I was just hanging out with everyone. Watching TV, movies, or just talking. Something about being surrounded by kids and their parents made me miss my family a little bit more than I had been...(And to my 10-year old cousin Julio: Don't worry, I promise I'll be back!)

My time spent with Uncle Ramon's family revolved around eating. The first time I saw them was at our Good Friday feast when the whole family ate fish all day. The second was when they invited me over for a delicious Indian & Korean dinner that included three rounds of dessert. (Although there were only 6 of us eating, they cooked enough to feed a small army.) And the third and final time was for my last night in Dagupan when they invited me out to a local buffet serving Mongolian food. This was when Cyra & Mark, Uncle Ramon's kids, started teaching me eating strategies so I could fit more food into my stomach. Say what?? Tip for future visitors: Wait until you're done dieting to come to the Philippines. I assure you that willpower is not enough to keep you from eating.

My trip to Dagupan was so great and I'm so thankful for how open-armed and loving my family was to me while I was there. I can't wait to come back but am even more hopeful that they are able to come visit us back in the States!

Hiking Through the Rice Terraces

Monday started early as everyone began prepping for the day's adventures. We had plans to go hiking and walk through the rice terraces of Sagada before ending up at a waterfall for some swim time. So yes, I was eager to get a move on. By the time everyone finished showering ("Showering in the morning before you go hiking?" you ask. Yes, I too found it strange. Especially when you consider that everyone showered the night before. Those are Filipinos, for ya. Shower shower shower. It may be their favorite thing to do...after eating of course. But I digress...), getting ready, and eating, we ended up leaving around 9 9:30 and arrived at the hiking site not too long after.

I should start this by saying that I have never hiked before today. Once everyone got out of their cars, I noticed for the first time what my fellow hikers were wearing. I looked around and saw one mom with a cute shirt tucked into her equally nice & belted bermuda shorts; little girls wearing linen shorts, button-up shirts & other outfits I might attend church in; sweaters; a jacket; long sleeved shirts; flip flops...and large sun umbrellas. "What the..." I thought as a looked down at my tshirt, running leggings, and gym shoes as I tightened the ponytail I had just sloppily tied up. A moment of self-consciousness passed over me but was forgotten as quickly as it came. It appeared as if I wasn't the only one new to this hiking business.

 The guide brought me back to the real world and my attention shifted to the pile of walking sticks behind us. "Oh come on," I said to myself. "Yes, I'm out of shape. But there is no way I'm out of shape enough to need a stupid walking stick." Reluctantly I made my way over to the pile and grabbed one. Lesson of the day: When the guide suggests you do something, just do it. Chances are he/she knows what he/she is talking about. By the time I had finished the route, my heart was in my throat, an invisible 50 lb weight was pressing against my chest, and I was panting like you wouldn't believe. I was practically crawling up the last flight of stairs. Needless to say, that stupid walking stick became my best friend along the way.

Our trek brought us down very steep hills and over lots of unstable ground before we reached the fields and fields of rice...which to me was a waaay better prize than the waterfall at the end.

I spent so much time in the beginning of the hike looking down & watching where I stepped in order to avoid tumbling down the hill...so when I looked up, I lost my breath. Unfortunately- as it always seems- pictures do no justice to the absolute beauty I witnessed. Everything for that moment was perfect. The heat of the sun, the gentle breezes, the nearly blinding green of the rice plants, the perfectly carved terraces, the serenity of the surrounding mountains...I can't even begin to describe it. I lost myself inside my head for a moment as I started thinking about where I'd want to live when I "grow up" because in that moment it became obvious to me that an absence of such a wonderfully halting scene just wouldn't do. My mind started wandering potential locations. Scotland? Ireland? Japan? The Himalayas? I love trees though, hmm...SQUISH! Cut daydreams and cue classic Rachael moment. I heard giggling behind me and looked down to see my entire foot swallowed by mud. I had just stepped into the actual field part of the rice plants. Right. Great. Of course that just happened. I decided then that I would split my time between daydreaming & minding my ever-so-clumsy body.

After about an hour we reached the waterfall, which ended up being on the sorry end of cascades. It was still  pretty though but since I'm not a huge fan of swimming I opted for gazing...and quickly returned back to my daydreams. People swam for a while and a few of the local kids stripped down to their underwear (boys and girls) before racing to the water and jumping off of rocks.

The way back up was, in my opinion, even grander than the way down. And since I didn't have to worry about slipping I was able to lose myself in my head again. There was also the added bonus of moving slower so there was no rush to take in my surroundings. All in all a good day and I'm happy to announce that I will opt for hiking more often!

To Sagada We Go

Early Sunday morning I left with Tita Karen, her husband, and four kids to the mountain province of Sagada. We met their family friends at one of their homes for breakfast and hit the road by 7 AM. It's possible to reach Sagada from Dagupan in maybe 4 or 5 hours but with all of our stops (bathroom breaks, lunch time, and picture moments) we ended up travelling for a total of 11 hours. Nuts, I know. The main reason for our extreme extension of time though was the route we chose to take. The families had opted for the longer, scenic route. And while normally taking the scenic route wouldn't make up for all of those extra hours, this time it did.

We took the extremely narrow, twisty, not-so-developed roads up to Banaue (thank GOD for Dramamine) and got out of the car twice for pictures at the designated picture stops. The reason? Banaue (pronounced "Bahn-ah-way") is known for its rice terraces. As a matter of fact, the background for this blog is a picture of them.

By the time we made it to the large house we were renting (there are around 30 of us) everyone was exhausted and ready to settle in. But, alas! There was not enough space! What a surprise for a group of tired travellers. So after half an hour or so we were finally able to organize sleeping arrangements to ensure that everyone had a bed. It was dinner time by the time we finished and everyone enjoyed eating at the long picnic table outside together.

Good Friday

What a feast we had! Apparently the Good Friday seafood cookout is tradition here for my family in Dagupan. Every year, the whole family comes over for fresh seafood and Tita Yasmine's (Uncle Ricky's wife) homemade ice cream.

By the time I woke up, maybe around 830 or 9 AM, the food was almost finished being prepared. Seafood ranging from shrimp to huge fish that I don't know the names of were piled high in bowls, tuna spaghetti was underway, and a dozen mangoes were already sliced and ready to eat. I was immediately hungry.

We hung out for a little bit and got ready before the rest of the family arrived between 11:30 & 12. A long table right outside the door (and under the shade of course) was set up and a few fans were plugged in. It didn't take long before everyone started digging in and getting full. And just like at family parties at home, many laughs were shared. I think that pictures will do a better job at conveying this happy gathering than any description ever could...so I will wait for Auntie Ceclie, Uncle Ramon's wife, to share the pictures she took on her fancy camera & will upload them here once I have them. So, again, check back soon!

Prepping for Good Friday

I should start this by saying that Dagupan is a fishing town. The roads are bordered by fish ponds, kids start fishing at young ages (my Uncle Ricky says his earliest memories of fishing alone were at 5 or 6 years old), everyone eats fish, and the fish you eat is always fresh.

So, in preparation for Good Friday, I went with Uncle Ricky & their family's maid to the fish market at 930 PM on Thursday. We walked in between buildings that lined the main road and made our way through the hall of dried fish, which I can assure you smells as bad as you'd think. Once we had exited the smelly tent-like structure, we walked into a sort of back corner alleyway. There were stalls and stalls of fish lying in buckets of ice and people sitting around them hoping to sell their catch.

Uncle Ricky asked around for the fish he was looking for but unfortunately, we were early. The first load would come in around 11 PM, leaving us time to kill. So we left the buckets of fish, walked back through the tent of dried fish, and crossed the street to get to the other market.

This time we walked through a clothing market that looked nearly identical to the one I went to in Quezon City with Uncle Ricky's sister, Mary Ann. After passing nearly 15 tents playing loud music and weaving our way through the crowds of people (I was surprised at how busy this bazaar was at this time of night) we reached our destination: the vegetable tents.

One of the several vegetable tents.

Loomy, Uncle Ricky's maid, walked over to the fresh crops and started inspecting. She was handed a silver bowl to place her vegetables in by the girl who was manning the tent with her sister. The two looked to be around 12-15 years old. Once Loomy made her selection, she handed the silver bowl back to one of the young girls who placed it on a scale before bagging the veggies up and naming a price. We left with three bags of fresh vegetables and made our way back to the car.

Uncle Ricky drove us back home and I got ready for bed. It mustve been around 45 minutes to an hour later that he knocked on my window and asked if I wanted to go back to the fish market to pick up what we couldn't before. By that point though, I was drifting in and out of sleep so I wished him luck before shutting down for the night.

Cue Dagupan Adventure

I left Manila yesterday at 7 AM and arrived in Dagupan, the city where my mom was born in and where she lived while in the Philippines, around 12:45. I'm staying with my Papa's side of the family and will be here for the next week and a half. I'm sure there will be plenty to share as the days start rolling because its Holy Week and just about everyone here is Catholic. Woke up at 5:30 this morning to run (apparently by 7 it's already too hot...) so am now feeling ready for a nap. Check back soon!

Girl Matter by ChannelGood: Part II

After presenting the girls were given an opportunity to ask us any questions that they had or to share their thoughts on what we had to say. It was tough getting them to speak up at first because they were all very shy, but soon some started talking. All of the girls that did share expressed their gratitude towards us for taking the time to come visit them. Some of them told us what kind of work they hoped to do when they got older, but there was one girl who I can't stop thinking about.

I don't remember exactly how old she is, but she definitely falls between 18-20. Right now she thinks she wants to be either a teacher or social worker but is undecided between the two. The predicament she shared with us is not whether she should be A or B; instead, it's what to do about college. She realizes that she will most likely not be the one paying for her schooling and that it will come from a scholarship or outside donor. But she's afraid to go to college and not for the reasons that one taking this step typically fears. She's afraid that she won't be good enough. That she's not smart enough. And that the money given to fund her education will be a waste.

My heart broke as I listened to her share her fears of being inadequate. A girl who has overcome such horrors in her life...afraid of not being strong enough to finish studying? Each one of us had something to share with her. To remind her of how smart she is and how much potential she has. To encourage her to discover where her passion lies and to pursue whatever it may be. She listened intently to each piece of advice that we were more than happy to share, nodded her head at what we were saying, smiled, and thanked us when we were done. I'm curious to see which path she ends up taking. Note to self: check in with Chely in some time to see what this girl is up to.

The next activity planned required us to split up into small groups. We were instructed to draw a picture of what the girl sitting to our right would be doing in ten years and shared it to the group afterwards. Everyone had fun with this as we were completely free to design whatever future we desired for our neighbor. People's future occupations ranged from models to lawyers and almost always embarrassed the girl described- in a fun, lighthearted way of course. It was too cute.

Unfortunately, I am unable to post any photos of the girls because some of their traffickers are still looking for them. After exchanging phone numbers with the other speakers, we wrapped up our day in the Safehouse and said our goodbyes. They waved and smiled as they watched us pull out of the drive. Just looking at them, you'd never know what histories they have. I'm marveled by their strength and beauty.


Some notes about GirlMatter:

• While some girls are sold into the trafficking business, often times they are tricked. For example, they may be told that there is work waiting for them in one of the big cities but are abducted once they leave their homes.
• The typical stay for a girl is around 6 months, but some of the girls living in the safehouse have already been there for a year or two. 
• The girls have a caretaker living with them. Additionally, a social worker and psychiatrist make regular visits.
• Girls under 18 years old are not permitted to leave the house. 18 & above leave for work once collaborating with the social worker.
• Fun fact: The safehouse & property was donated by the creator & author of the Harry Potter series, JK Rowling!

Girl Matter by ChannelGood: Part I

I don't even know where to begin about today. But I guess I can start by saying that Girl Matter is easily the coolest thing I've ever dipped my feet into. If you didn't click the link, here is the description used for the project:

A volunteer project of ChannelGood Advocacy Communications, Girl Matter is a 3-part program for young girls who have suffered a history of abuse. It aims to provide inspiration, restore faith in possibilities, and break the limitations imposed by their situations.

Before leaving for the Philippines, I knew I'd be doing some work with Girl Matter. I was first introduced to the project by my mom's cousin living in California (thanks, Aunt Joy!). She knew I was looking to volunteer and referred me to Chely, one of the founders of ChannelGood & Girl Matter. After getting in touch with Chely, she told me a little bit more about Girl Matter and how I could get involved...

Just a bit of a background, there are 20 girls at the moment in the Safehouse, aged 12 to 21. They are all survivors of human trafficking, with most having been sold by  their own parents. Tragic as it may be, these girls have shared UNBELIEVABLE BEAUTY by talking about forgiveness and moving on. We know that all these don’t come easy so Girl Matter aims to give a little push in terms of rebuilding their self-worth and planting seeds of entrepreneurship in their young minds and hearts.

One of the projects the girls would soon be starting was part of their "Visioneering" theme. They are being asked to create their own "[Insert name here] 2023" presentations in order to help them establish goals for themselves and a hypothetical plan as means to achieving those goals.

So today, along with two other women, I presented my own Visioneering PowerPoint called "Rachael 2023." Following the format established, I created a 20-slide PP showing where I was "now" (2023) and gave a little background as to how I got "here." (For those interested, you can check put my PowerPoint here. The slides don't really have words on them because I was speaking so the order of the pictures may not make sense, but just thought I'd include it in case you wanted an idea of what the projects look like.) One other speaker was a 24 year old teacher name Isa who started a project called "The Good Story Project." She shared the idea that our lives are all stories and that we should work together in order to keep writing better stories. Isa works with girls during the workshops she sets up and they all focus on a topic to discuss and support each other as they work to create "better stories." The third speaker was a middle-aged woman who started a social enterprise called Rags2Riches.

The eco-ethical business model originated in 2007 in Payatas, one of the Philippines’ largest dumpsites and home to 12,000 families. An informal cottage industry of rug-weavers grew from the many women who developed a means to earn a living by scavenging the waste to find and recycle scrap pieces of fabric so that they could participate in handicraft production like rug and rag weaving, while taking care of their children at home. Over time, the industry became exploited by a series of middlemen who controlled both the supply of scrap fabric and the women’s access to the market, which created an unfair value chain for the women who at the end of the day earned only pennies per finished product.

Rags2Riches Inc. was created to provide these women with fair access to the market and the formal economy, as well as with additional skills-based, financial and health training so that they can maximize their career potential and take steps towards long-term financial and personal well-being.

By the time each of us had finished presenting, I noticed that all of our speeches were themed around dreaming big and not being afraid to just pursue our dreams. A good message, if you ask me.

Centex School

This past week/week and a half I had the opportunity to volunteer at a primary school called Centex, Center of Excellence in Public Education. It's part of a two-school project funded by Ayala Foundation, the corporate social responsibility sector of Ayala Corporation. Ayala Corporation is the most elite business in the Philippines and practically owns the country's entire business district, Makati City. There are two Centex schools: one in a rough neighborhood of Manila and another in the province of Batangas, which was the school I made the 2 hour drive to.

I woke up at 530 AM in order to be at the meeting spot in Makati City by 630 because of stupid traffic. ("SO traffic!" has become one of my favorite adopted Filipino phrases.) From there, the driver would pick me up along with another teacher and we would swing by three other locations to pick up three more teachers. Together the six of us would drive allll the way to Batangas and needless today, had enough hours to get in some solid bonding time.

The four teachers are all women and have an extremely close team since they work together so often. I think it's important I note that they're not your regular teachers. They are employed through Ayala Foundation rather than the Department of Education. Some days they're teaching at the two different schools, sometimes they're making home visits to interview applicants (I'll explain), or they might be in the office working with the rest of the Centex staff. They teach subjects like music and self-esteem and play an instrumental part in maintaining the values that Ayala Foundation hopes to instill in their schools.

What separates Centex from the rest of the crowd is that attendance fees do not exist and families must demonstrate financial need in order for their children to attend. Applications are filed, homes are visited, and interviews are conducted. There is a limited amount of space in the schools so it is imperative that each student is chosen carefully. Uniforms and meals are provided and sometimes even transportation is as well for kids that live far away from school.

The same way that Ayala Foundation welcomed my participation with open arms, so did the staff at Centex Batangas. Their warmth and kindness amazed me. I was introduced to each class and every teacher, given the option to participate anywhere I desired, and was met with genuine listeners (teachers and students alike) every time I spoke. I should also add that the volunteer parents working at Centex as a way of giving back to the school prepared both breakfast & lunch feasts for us every time we came!

I had the opportunity to observe a few of their "Integrated English Language Arts" classes (always interested in picking up on new techniques), teach a few of those classes, read stories to the kids, and work with a group of students practicing for their mini-musical about the magic of books (YAY!). Everyone there referred to me as "Teacher Rachael" and the students always stood up from their seats when answering my questions.

"IELA" class with the kindergartners.

On my last day there, one student came up to me and said, "Teacher. Your skin is so nice and white!" I couldn't help but laugh at the irony. I marked this as the first moment someone complimented my "white" skin. She clearly had no clue as to why I found her statement so amusing so I told her: "Well thank you, but I can't wait to be as tan as you are!" She smiled at me before beaming at the girl sitting beside her.

I'm so grateful for the chance to see the work that Centex does and am so thankful for everything the teachers at Batangas & the Centex team did to help me make the most of my experience there. And who knows? Maybe someday I'll can take up the offer to return to Centex Batangas- but next time do it as a teacher...

The Perception of Beauty

Left with an entire day to do nothing but chill on the beach, Resa and I had a few good conversations. One that I thought would be interesting to share was about the perception of beauty. I realize how cliche that sounds, but our talk wasn't so much philosophical as it was comparative...so don't get turned off just yet.

Beauty is a funny thing. There are some things that most people would agree are beautiful. Take Shakira, for example. However, we all know the truth behind the age old adage, "beauty lies in the eye of the beholder." So when I tell my mom that I love Andy Samberg and can't wait to marry him, she wrinkles her nose. Ahh, beauty.

Here in the Philippines, I've noticed a few different things that surprised me when it comes to physical beauty.

First of all, straight hair is a must. All of the commercials, the girls on TV, the ones on billboards...hair straight as a pin and smooth as silk. Salons broadcast signs outside their doors advertising their latest and greatest solution for hair straighter than ever before. I've been told that messy hair invites people to assume that you're edgy. A rebel. And apparently another way to be perceived as so is to wear lipstick and eyeliner (oh my, so rebellious!) because "good" girls only wear lip gloss.

Second, white skin. Ohhh do people go crazy over this. So while back home people use tanning lotion and go to tanning beds, Filipinos (this includes men) use whitening soap (Dove makes a  popular one), whitening lotion, and some even go to special skin therapy treatments to make their skin "milky white." I was reading through a nail salon's spa offerings and came across "Underarm Whitening." (Err...) When I learned of this I found it quite amusing...but was met with equal amusement from my cousins when they heard Americans go to tanning booths. "Tanning booths?" they asked. "What do you do there?" They told me that if someone is newly famous, it doesn't take long before they have much lighter skin than when they first emerged as a star. I've heard from several people that the reason for this is as a developing nation, people in the Philippines look up to the Western World. They're looking to emulate what they see from "successful" countries.

Lastly, body image. (This one appeals to me because I too am a foodie.) Unlike the stars back home, here the celebrities come in a range of body types. While there are some stick-skinny superstars here, many (if not most) have regular body types. Some even bigger than average. The Philippines is a country of food and life here revolves around it. (Rice, specifically. And lots of meat.) There is breakfast, lunch, merienda (3:00 snack...which always ends up being the size of a regular meal), dinner, and snacks inbetween. You walk into someone's home and are immediately greeted with the question: "What do you want to eat?" No one is shy about taking extra helpings. When I leave the Philippines, I won't ever forget the countless scenes of my laughing aunts pulling out the kitchen chairs as they look at me and say, "Let's eat."

So I guess as always when one travels, I've stumbled across something new to be aware of about the world. The contrast between cultures has just reinforced what I already knew: everyone has the power to decide what is beautiful.

Malasimbo

We stayed at the beach allllll day Saturday and headed up for the music around 9 or so. We took a very crowded jeepney (the most used Filipino method of public transportation check out the "Pictures" page) up a very steep mountain and were greeted with beautiful scenery. We took a little hike down a steep, steep hill before approaching the venue. It was beautiful. Built like an amphitheater, the stage was at the bottom surrounded by different levels of grass. There were palm trees everywhere and amazing lights. 

Among the performers were Jimmy Cliff. For those of you who don't know, some of his hits include "I Can See Clearly Now" and "Hakuna Matata" from the sequel album to the Lion King soundtrack.

"Hakuna Matata" by Jimmy Cliff

The next day, Resa & Mike got massages on the beach. The masseuses must have worked their magic because immediately afterwards, Mike asked me if I'd want to stay an extra day. Since I'm not bound by any work commitments, I told him I'd do whatever they were looking to do. The food was cheap. The room was cheap. And we were able to score a free ride home from Mike's friend. Why not stay? So while Mike and his bff were catching up and enjoying some bro time, Resa & I laid out the blanket and settled down for another relaxing day at the beach.

To Malasimbo We Go

I went out of town this weekend for a concert called Malasimbo. It's a three-day reggae festival up on a mountain that's located right off of a beach. I went with my cousin Resa, her boyfriend Mike, and a few of his friends for this vacation in a vacation trip.

We took a three-hour bus ride to a province called Batangas. From there, a one-hour ferry boat ride to the beach. When I first heard we were taking a ferry, the first thing that popped into my mind was not at all related to the ferry boat we took.

True to nature I fell asleep almost right away. (Thank you, Dramamine.) I'm not sure how much time had passed before I was abruptly awoken by a man shoving a life jacket in my face. "What the &#*%?" I thought as I looked around expecting to see a scene of panic. But instead I was met with 30 pairs of eyes...all focused on me. With absolutely no idea of what was happening, bleary-eyed & foggy-minded from having just woken up, I couldn't do anything but stare at the man.

Literally. I just stared. And everyone around just stared back at me.

I opened my mouth but had no idea what to say so all that came out was something like, "Uhhmmhhuhh..." I couldn't help but laugh after stuttering because I thought, "Of course. Of course whatever is happening right now is happening only to me." Thankfully, Resa saved me from the awkward attention. She grabbed the life jacket and gave it to me. "Here," she said. "The man is saying you might get wet so sit on this." I had no idea how a life jacket would help prevent any water damage (or why I was the only one who had the potential to get wet) but I accepted the offer so everyone would go back to whatever they were doing before staring at me.

No more than 10 minutes later was there about an inch of water at the floor of the boat as waves outside licked its roof- thank God for the plastic coverings over the windows! I understood why I had been given the life jacket as the people around me started standing up to reveal soggy shorts. Woop woop! Thank you guy who gave me the vest! I called him over for a few more and gave them to Resa & Mike so they could try to stay dry, too. Pretty soon afterwards we pulled up to White Beach at Puerto Galera.

Lola Left

So Lola left to go back to the snow in the States today. She had been reminding everyone of this special day for the past week or two now...aka since she reached the halfway point of her trip. I don't blame her; she doesn't fly enough to be comfortable doing it. I kept reassuring her though that this would be the easiest thing she's ever done. I told her that someone would meet us at the airport with a wheelchair and another person would handle her bags. From there, she would have to do absolutely no decision making (besides how much to tip) because the porters would wheel her to wherever she needed to go in every airport in order to make sure she made it to her terminal on time. Not to mention she'd be given the luxury of cutting everyone in line since she has priority as a senior.

Before she left I must have heard her say that she is "going home on March 1st" around 20 times. I found that interesting. The "going home" part. I realize she does have a house there and while it's true she's lived most of her life in the States (40+ years of her 73), I wondered at which point do we reach where we no longer refer to our birth country- the place we grew up, met our SO, got married & had a couple of kids- as "home." I was pondering that notion for a bit while Lola was talking to someone about "home," when she turned to me and said something about us living in Chicago. 

Me: Well, we live in the Chicagoland area. When you travel it's just easier to say you live in Chicago because you won't meet many people who know Aurora.

Lola: Oookay. Yes. I just say we live in Chicago too. We live in Aurora. 

Me: Right.

-pause-

Lola: Is Aurora in Chicago?

One thing about Lola is that she will never fail to surprise. But all joking aside, watching her say goodbye to her oldest and last living sibling was hard to watch. It was such a private moment. My throat tightened as I resisted the thought of being in my 80s, hugging Olivia for what could very well be the last time I'd ever see her. (Sisters 4eva, Liv)

Lola and I held hands on the somber ride to the airport. Once we arrived (and after we waited in the car for a little bit), everything fell into place as I had told her. She had someone to push her in a wheel chair and someone to carry her things.

Lola at the airport, stylish as ever in her lipstick & crossword puzzle
leggings, donning her favorite pair of compression socks. 

She was so preoccupied with ensuring that things were in order, barking questions from her chair, that she forgot to kiss me goodbye.

It's okay, Lola. I guess I'll let it slide.

Pangasinan: Dagupan City

Finally we had arrived in Dagupan. We pulled up to Tita Karen's (Uncle Ramon's daughter) beautiful home. I wish I had a picture of it but I'll get one next time. Standing outside to open the gate were Uncle Ramon and his younger brother, Uncle Butch. Seeing them for the first time almost made me laugh. My first thought was, "Oh. Of course that's what they look like." You see, if there were one million Filipinos lined up and you asked me to guess which two men I'm related to, Uncle Ramon & Uncle Butch would be exactly the two men I'd pick. This part is for my family, who knows the people I'm referencing:

Uncle Ramon looks just like Papa. Except his muscles are big. To be honest, I haven't seen a 60 year old man look that good in my entire life. So pretty much, if you were to put Papa's head on a fit man's body, you'd have Uncle Ramon. And as for Uncle Butch, his voice is 110% Uncle Boy's but his face reminds me so much of Uncle Dennis. SO much. I love it.

They welcomed us with open arms and after meeting the uncles, aunts, and cousins, we sat down for the promised feast. And it was DELICIOUS. But the mangoes...oh my the mangoes. The sweetest, juiciest mangoes on Earth. Pangasinan is known as the Mango Capital of the Philippines and I now know why.

After digesting, Uncle Butch took us on a boat ride on the river near by. He works for the government and was in charge of a huge project to clean the river up, which he did a great job at because it looked wonderful. The boat was more of a pontoon made out of bamboo and on it were a handful of masseuses. We listened to relaxing music, floated along, and got our backs massaged as we went. It was as wonderful as it sounds.

Once the pontoon ride was over, we went to Uncle Butch's house, located right next to the famous bowling alley that I've been hearing about for literally my entire life. Yes, family, we still own this bowling alley. Contrary to whatever rumors floated back to the States, Uncle Butch did not sell it haha. He wanted me to pass that along and told me to take pictures as proof.

After hanging out at his house for a little bit, I went with Tita Josie, Tito Danny, and Josielle to check in at our hotel. I was able to close my eyes for a little before Uncle Butch picked me up for dinner. (At this time, Tita Jose & Tito Danny went out with Tito Danny's cousin and Josielle opted to stay back in the room because she was tired.) I met up with Lola and the rest of the family and we ate a lot of really good Chinese food.

We finished eating and we said our goodbyes to everyone. I promised I'd come back in a couple of weeks and Uncle Butch told me to call whenever that may be. I can't wait to see everyone again!

Pangasinan: Lola Reminisces

This weekend Tita Josie, Tito Danny (Tita Josie's husband), Josielle (their daughter), Lola, and I went on a trip to Pangasinan- the province where our families are from. I'm afraid to admit that I can't describe what the scenery was like on the drive because I slept the whole way down...surprise. The plan was for us to eat lunch and dinner on Sunday in Dagupan, the city in Pangasinan where my mom grew up, with Uncle Ramon (my papa/grandpa's brother) and his family. I'd stay in a hotel with everyone I came down with and we'd make our way back to Manila on Monday morning.

We got to Pangasinan around 11 AMish and went straight to the house where Lola grew up in Kibaol. Upon relocating to Manila, Lola Fannie left the house to her cousin, Nora. Nora and her husband, along with assistance from their servants (don't get too excited, everyone here seems to have them), were left with the responsibility to maintain the house, the fishpond, and the rice field.

As soon as we walked into the house we were greeted with open arms by everyone there. One of the employees says to Lola, "It's so nice to see you." Want to know how Lola replies? "We'll talk later." Great. Drama already. So after she sits down like the queen she is, she begins to reminisce. She tells us about how she used to play over there and that she walked down those stairs on her wedding day. Pretty soon the fun is over and she turns to the lady who she promised to talk to "later." Apparently, this woman and her family were left to tend the fishpond. The agreement was for them to be able to take 10% of whatever is caught from the ponds. (This is their form of payment for caring for the fish.) Lola, on the orders of her sister, accuses the lady of stealing the fish and not giving our family the share agreed upon. The scolding lasts quite a while and was interrupted by a phone call from Uncle Ramon.

By this time it's past noon and he's wondering where we are...except Lola doesn't remember telling him we'd arrive around 10 AM at his place. And now we're caught: lunch has been prepared for us in Kibaol and Uncle Ramon's family is waiting for us to eat in Dagupan. Food food food. That is the #1 thing I will not forget about the Philippines. You will never be hungry anywhere you go. Anyways, we resolved to meet him at 2:00, eat small in Kibaol, then eat big in Dagupan. So after eating in Kibaol, Lola wanted me to see the fishpond. Keep in mind that it's easily around the lower 90s so I'm not exactly jumping for joy at the idea of walking around to see a fishpond. But I'm glad I went.

Inbetween the fishponds are small walkways like this
that allow the caretakers to get from pond to pond.

The fishpond caretaker's home.

Lola's Fight With Her Sister

I came back to Tita Minerva's on Sunday in high spirits. I sat down at the dinner table where everyone except for Lola Fannie was sitting. We were all talking and sharing the fruit that Mary Ann just bought me when Lola Fannie came downstairs to join us...or so I thought. I was about to get up to say hello when she blew right by the table. (Ha- not literally blew by considering she can't walk that fast, but she did walk right past the table with an air of purpose.) 

I looked at Tita Minerva and said, "Uh oh. Is she mad?" And she shook her head yes. Then Lola says, "Don't worry. She's mad at me." 

So I guess while I was gone they had a fight. A fight huge enough that Lola told me she wouldn't ever come back to the Philippines until her beloved older sister- the reason she came to the Philippines in the first place- was no longer with us. And I must add, she didn't word it quite as nicely and made sure to tell everyone in the house that she wasn't coming back. For those of you who haven't had the pleasure of meeting my Lola, this may come across as a striking thing to say about someone...especially your own sister. While I agree that it is, I can't say that I was really fazed by it and I'm pretty sure I actually laughed when she told me. Those are such typical words from her that I wasn't bothered by them, especially since I knew she didn't really mean them.  So how could such an outrageous fight begin? The answer is a pressure cooker, my friends.

Apparently the last time my Lola saw her sister open a pressure cooker, all of the hot steam ballooned in her face for a rather unpleasant experience. So this time when Lola Fannie was going to open the pressure cooker, my Lola tells her: "You know, so you don't have all that steam in your face when you open the cooker you need to first run it under cold water." Lola Fannie assures her that she knows this. The dialogue ensues as follows...

My Lola: "Then why don't you do it?"

Her sister: "Because I don't want to."

My Lola: "No. It's because you don't know how to."

Her sister: "Yes I know how to!"

My Lola: "No you don't!"
Her sister: "Yes I do!"

My Lola: "No you don't! You are dumb!"

Her sister: "I am not dumb! You are!"

My Lola: "No you are dumb!"

Her sister: "No you are!"

My Lola: "No you are!"

Her sister: "No you are!"

My Lola: "No! You are dumb and stupid!"

And from what I gather, that's pretty much where the dialogue ended. My Lola is 73 years old. Her sister is 85. They didn't talk all of Sunday or all of Monday. They refused to sit by each other at the dinner table and slammed their plates and cups down when they were ready to eat. Until 2:30 this morning.

They share a bedroom and they each have their own twin beds. At 2:30 this morning, my Lola knocked, literally knocked, on her sister's head. "I'm hungry," she said. "Let's eat." And so the fight had been resolved.

I took this picture just now as I'm writing this post.
As you can see, they love each other again.

So as it turns out, food is the answer.

The Sunday Market

This past weekend I stayed at Aunt Mary Ann's house and she took me to Quezon City's Sunday Market with her family and friends. This market is amazing. Here everything is sold: food, drinks, electronics, watches, purses, clothing, home decor- you name it they've got it. And the fantastic thing about it is that everything is incredibly cheap. It's the place where 10 people can eat for less than $30. 

The shops are divided by sheets that are supported by poles, which also support the "tent" structure that's used for shading everything and everyone.

The food you can get here is quite a sight. It ranges from traditional Filipino food, to corn dogs & hot dogs, to dried fruits & fresh fruits, oatmeal, all types of ice cream, and more that I'm afraid to say I can't remember.

So while I was here I almost died of a heat stroke.

I'm kidding. But it was insanely hot. I could literally feel my skin burn as soon as I was in direct sunlight. But while I was here I tried snail, ate cheese-flavored goat milk ice cream, drank the most delicious & freshest melon juice, chased Aunt Mary Ann's kids up and around shops, played with coy fish, and bought a dress for $2.50. Quite a busy day.

Meeting Aunt Mary Ann

I didn't know what to expect. I knew what side of the family she's from. Who her sisters are. Her cousins. And that she was coming over yesterday at 3:00, but that's about it. Aunt Mary Ann is a business woman through and through, and with that comes connections. She was one of the relatives I had talked to before arriving and thought she could help me figure out where I'll be volunteering and possibly set me up with a part-time job if I wanted. So needless to say the "good impression" thing was at the front of my mind.

When she told me she'd stop by on Thursday I planned on inviting her into my apartment. I didn't think it was necessary for Lola to be there and to be honest, I was nervous to have her there. The reason for that is she's not so clear on what I'm looking to do and the explanations I give her don't seem to stick. She likes to act as the leader in our duo- and sometimes that's okay. But when it comes to my time and where I'll be volunteering, it doesn't rub me so well when she puts on her serious face and tells me what I'll be doing and where I'll be going if I can't get ahold of so and so. But the most dreaded thing I was afraid she'd do was to speak Tagalog to Aunt Mary Ann and leave me helplessly out of the conversation, telling her what I wanted to do and ask about where I was to be working. (This has happened plenty of times before with other relatives and no, Lola. Work and volunteer are not synonymous.) So in order to avoid that, I cleaned up my apartment.

She pulled in at 2:30. "Oh God, here it goes," I thought to myself as I prepared for the four natural steps that happen when it comes to meeting family (see post below). After the awkward dance (the reach for a handshake, step in for a hug, and not-so-smooth kiss on the cheek), I invited her up. We had taken about three steps when I heard a shout from Tita Minerva's doorway. "Noo please," I silently pleaded as I turned around. And there she was. Standing in her slippers, a pair of athletic shorts (soccer, maybe?), a cute top, and glimmering gold jewelry. Lola wanted us to go sit with her. Forced to surrender, my shoulders sagged with defeat and we made our way back.

We sat down and at first I was happy that Lola was there to do the talking in the beginning. Until she started talking about what I wanted to do, confusing "work" with "volunteer", and speaking in Tagalog. Then Aunt Mary Ann looked at me and said, "Hey, want to go to Makati City with me?" So I ran to change and grab the copies of my resume that I had brought along. 

In the car I clarified what I was looking for and how I wanted to spend my time here in the Philippines. We talked and talked and then she invited me to stay overnight on Saturday. She suggested that on Sunday, we cook Filipino food. She introduced me to two people that I was able to leave my resume with and they said they'd get in contact with us in these next few days. Later I ended up sitting in on a looong meeting that Aunt Mary Ann was conducting and afterwards, she took me to dinner, dropped me off back at home, and said she'd call me on Saturday.