Philippines Adventure, Pt. 2
Chickens
I hate roosters and the sounds they make. Right now there is one outside of my window, bothering me and agitating my concentration. Why can’t we just make stew out of them. I have an alarm clock; I don’t need their assistance to rise. If it were up to them, I would rise at 4 am. They are so stupid that they don’t even know that the sun rises a full 2 hours later. Goodness! They also look dangerous. Have you ever seen a rooster up close and personal? I have, but I keep my distance! They have the appearance of being able to peck me to death. Erik found one in his bathroom twice. I consider myself a pacifist and do not really care to ever shoot a gun, but I think I would make exceptions for these animals ☺ I can’t even do my laundry without their annoying presence. I went up to the laundry lines where my clothes were hanging, and I came face-to-face with this ugly rooster. It stared me down; then quickly ran away. I guess I scared it. Good!
Some news and updates from the Philippines: Infrastructure
I would like to try
something this time around, and that is to divulge a newsworthy story I read in the Manila Bulletin. This posts will be less emotionally fixed and more focused on hard facts and opinions of those facts. I want to explore all realms while I am here: spiritual, physical, emotional, and intellectual. I guess those are the realms I see as being the most important. I would even venture to say that the Greeks would agree from their era of esoteric delight.
I recently read several stories about the development of the Philippines, particularly in relation to the countryside and in disaster preparedness. To all the seemingly basic problems of a developing nation like the Philippines is infrastructure development. Infrastructure means transportation facilities, telecommunications, roads, water systems, and electrical grids. I am not an expert on this subject, but I wonder what better infrastructure could do. Okay, here three possibilities: it would mean that homes would be constructed in a more reliable fashion so that the dozen typhoons that ravage the country every year do not rip apart people’s dwellings like a toddler and scrap paper; it would mean that goods and agriculture products could be transported with greater ease and fewer costs; it would mean that sanitation was more than just a sign that says “Clean CR” but applied to communities and schools. This of course is an uneducated summary of what better infrastructure could do.
I am doubtful as to the legitimacy of these claims. I just read a short USAID summary of infrastructure development, and they agreed that this type of development must be carefully planned so the target population (i.e., the poor) benefits and is not a waste of resources with no return. Of course better infrastructure would improve the appearance of the country and probably the overall functioning of it, but would it provide jobs to the poorest squatter in Manila? Would it feed the starving orphans? Would it make rice more profitable on the world market? It seems like more time should be spent on these problems although like the USAID study recommended, maybe government officials can make infrastructure development advantageous for the poor. When a country becomes wealthier and has reached a higher level of development, who and what does it benefit? That is the question I pose myself since I plan to enter this field of development and will be making decisions about infrastructure and human development routinely.
Pangasinan
Unfortunately, the fun trip I took on Thursday was made necessary from a sad occurrence. The brother of the primary cook at the school (she trains all the students in preparing and cooking the food) died on Wednesday from cancer. She had been expecting it for a while, but death is rarely, in its finality, anticipated. Her family wanted her to come home as soon as possible, but the director of the school, who has worked with the cook for a long time, a decade at least, did not want her to travel on her own to the funeral. Sad events are best faced in the company of trusted supporters.
I was very somber in expressing my regrets to her, and I felt blessed to be able to accompany her back home, hoping that my presence would be just that much better for the group as we loved her and grieved for her during the initial period. Well, I always relish an adventure, and this trip was into uncharted territory, so of course I was thrilled. I did not have to contain my joy at being included in the journey because the group had a light air about it. After all, we weren’t dead. I do not think that she wanted to behave in a tragic manner. She was snapping pictures
and talking happily with the others. Remember what I said about Filipinos, they laugh when most people would be crying, but how much more she enjoyed that day because of her attitude than if she had resigned herself to weeping all day (this can also be good in the grieving process of course).
We took a Japanese-built road called the Kennon road. It was only for private traffic so a little less congested than the roads filled with Victory Liners and commercial semis (I did see a couple open-air bedded trucks that were carrying potatoes in large quantities, but I guess that was more local than the big container semis). It was a perfect day and I was in the front seat! The director of the school told us that she doesn’t like to sit in the front seat because one time, she and the maintenance man at the school were pulled over for not wearing their seatbelts, and they decided to, in all fairness, split the violation. Now, to avoid having to pay for any violations that may be incurred from refusing to wear her seatbelt, she opts for the back where there are no seatbelts to wear even if she did care to wear them. I suppose that is one way of avoiding a ticket. Or, she could have decided to start wearing her seatbelt! It’s funny how we choose to deal with problems. Some people avoid them or cut corners to steer clear of the annoyance and others face the problem head on and choose to acquiesce to the needed change that must occur to prevent the problem. I guess I am of the second persuasion based on this example although I do have an unfair advantage since I grew up wearing my seatbelt and it is second nature to put it on as soon as I seat myself. Anyway…all that was to say that I got the front seat and was able to take some great pictures. Sorry, I can get a little long-winded sometimes.
The succession we took is quite interesting and will give you an idea of what it is like to go from the city to the provinces. The Kennon road was quite modern, aside from the places that were ravaged by the typhoon. These we hit about one hour into the trip where parts of the road had been washed away and even some areas before the bridges were lacking in the stability I would have wanted to see. Oh, well, there was large potato-carrying truck in front of us, and it did not seem too nervous, so neither was I. From Kennon road, we used the town roads, which are still paved, although they are a little narrower and vans like ours are forced to drive more carefully as the presence of too many “tricycles,” pedestrians, cyclists, and motorcycle riders too count portend possible accidents of a horrendous nature. Fortunately for me, I found myself in a van with a very competent driver. Had I been driving the van, I would have surely ridden over several pedestrians or tricycles or collided with one of the Victory Liner buses or local jeepneys. I will never drive in the Philippines or any place in the developing world. I do not have the sensitization for that type of looming calamity.
In the Philippines people use their horns as a way to communicate with others on the road. It seems to be very effective. For instance, we were driving in a medium-sized provincial town and saw a tricycle in front of us. To signal to that driver that we were about to pass, we honked our horn. There are no turn signals, just horns. I still jump every time a jeepney passes me and honks its horn. It is doing nothing other than warning me of its presence and its impending passing. So, from the provincial towns, we turned onto a side street where we began to see rice on the road. That means that there is a lighter load of traffic making it a good drying ground for the rice. We stopped on this concrete road to visit one of the cook’s brothers. It was a beautiful home constructed from concrete blocks, which is a popular method of building houses here. It is solid and cheap, I suppose. We used their ladle-flushing porcelain bowl then proceeded to our destination: the home where her deceased brother lived and widow now lives. From this cement-cracked road, we turned onto a dirt and rock path, passing a muddy pond that was fit only for the cows to bathe in. Sometimes I wish I were as indiscriminate as the cows. I could just float like a princess in filth and be as happy as a clam (are clams really happy? I am not so sure, but it is fun to use these useless phrases as if everyone knows how to generate a reaction). Don’t worry, though, I am fully aware of the bacteria that fester in those places of murky standing water. I am really saying that at that point, I was so hot that the murky water was tempting ☺
The final trek of the trip was from the rocky and dirt road (which I thought was the lowest form of path you coul
d find) to no road at all, but clearly the path we needed to take (so, I was wrong). I guess you can build anything anywhere with no regard for the manner of getting there; it is also true, however, that these people were not using any sort of vehicle, so this little goat path was all they needed. I say goat path because they were in fact goat-raisers (is there a better term for that?)
I saw the ugliest duck I have ever seen that looked like it had the weight of the world on its shoulders, well, on its face. This duck was so painfully ugly; it was hard to look at it ☺ Besides this one pitiful duck, there were many chickens (my favorite...) and a couple mangy dogs like there are everywhere. I have never seen so many dogs; no wonder people in the Philippines eat dog. They are about as common as our cows are in WI. Too bad you can’t use them for leather or clothes or making cheese. I would eat dog if someone offered it to me. I would think that I was doing a good service to society by cleaning up their streets. Hahaha!
Our hosts and the cook from the school made us lunch, which is customary when one has guests over. Filipinos are very hospitable, and they will go out of their way to offer their guests whatever they have. The house where her brother’s widow lived was made from bamboo and reeds. It is called a nipa hut and is very practical for them. The house is on stilts, so the animals can go underneath the house for shelter when it rains or to cool off. I noticed that there was no kitchen and wondered where they made their food. I found out that they have an outdoor kitchen where there are two places to make a fire and everything is cooked over an open fire. The greens that we usually make at the school that are really tasty (I think they are a variety of watercress) were much smokier in flavor and were delicious. How time intensive, though, and what a labor of love that they really have to deal with all the time. I am a pretty adaptable person, but cooking over an open fire would be difficult to get used to; one, it would be logistically difficult because the fire cooks food a lot differently than gas or electric and two, it would be a great change in routine because it is much more time intensive to cook in this rudimentary style. At least, it was open air, so the smoke was well ventilated and would not harm them in the long run.
We amused our
selves by playing a game called Blokus and by arranging flowers for the funeral. I have never arranged flowers, but it turns out to be very fun. We had green gardening foam onto which we stuck the flowers that had just been purchased in the market in Baguio. It was hard to just sit because the flies clearly had a powerful reign over that place and when one sits down, that person is fair game to be irritated by the flies. I could not support it, so I tactfully avoided their buzzing antics by keeping on the move. It also helped to create a little breeze that was far more comfortable than sitting in the humidity and heat. Surprisingly, though, aside from the flies and the heat, it was quite agreeable out there. I think I could get used to it if there was a reason that I needed to…you know, if I were to become a goat herder and a bamboo farmer. It could happen.
On the way back, we stopped immediately at a gas station to use the CR (comfort room) because no one used the CR at the bamboo hut (it wasn’t that we were unwilling, it was simply a fact that no one knew were it was and no one bothered to ask. While we were stopped, there was this cute old lady that had
bags of egg-shaped balls with some white substance on the bottom. I thought maybe they were chocolates, but our driver said they were quail eggs. I was not going to buy any, but this woman was an excellent saleswoman. She persisted in her sale and came over to me. I tried to wave her away; then she told me I was beautiful and just stared. I couldn’t tell her to leave at that point, after having complimented me. She hooked me, so I bought a dollar’s worth (five packets) which generated a large smile. It was so worth it, and the eggs tasted great!
I hate roosters and the sounds they make. Right now there is one outside of my window, bothering me and agitating my concentration. Why can’t we just make stew out of them. I have an alarm clock; I don’t need their assistance to rise. If it were up to them, I would rise at 4 am. They are so stupid that they don’t even know that the sun rises a full 2 hours later. Goodness! They also look dangerous. Have you ever seen a rooster up close and personal? I have, but I keep my distance! They have the appearance of being able to peck me to death. Erik found one in his bathroom twice. I consider myself a pacifist and do not really care to ever shoot a gun, but I think I would make exceptions for these animals ☺ I can’t even do my laundry without their annoying presence. I went up to the laundry lines where my clothes were hanging, and I came face-to-face with this ugly rooster. It stared me down; then quickly ran away. I guess I scared it. Good!
Some news and updates from the Philippines: Infrastructure
I would like to try
something this time around, and that is to divulge a newsworthy story I read in the Manila Bulletin. This posts will be less emotionally fixed and more focused on hard facts and opinions of those facts. I want to explore all realms while I am here: spiritual, physical, emotional, and intellectual. I guess those are the realms I see as being the most important. I would even venture to say that the Greeks would agree from their era of esoteric delight.I recently read several stories about the development of the Philippines, particularly in relation to the countryside and in disaster preparedness. To all the seemingly basic problems of a developing nation like the Philippines is infrastructure development. Infrastructure means transportation facilities, telecommunications, roads, water systems, and electrical grids. I am not an expert on this subject, but I wonder what better infrastructure could do. Okay, here three possibilities: it would mean that homes would be constructed in a more reliable fashion so that the dozen typhoons that ravage the country every year do not rip apart people’s dwellings like a toddler and scrap paper; it would mean that goods and agriculture products could be transported with greater ease and fewer costs; it would mean that sanitation was more than just a sign that says “Clean CR” but applied to communities and schools. This of course is an uneducated summary of what better infrastructure could do.
I am doubtful as to the legitimacy of these claims. I just read a short USAID summary of infrastructure development, and they agreed that this type of development must be carefully planned so the target population (i.e., the poor) benefits and is not a waste of resources with no return. Of course better infrastructure would improve the appearance of the country and probably the overall functioning of it, but would it provide jobs to the poorest squatter in Manila? Would it feed the starving orphans? Would it make rice more profitable on the world market? It seems like more time should be spent on these problems although like the USAID study recommended, maybe government officials can make infrastructure development advantageous for the poor. When a country becomes wealthier and has reached a higher level of development, who and what does it benefit? That is the question I pose myself since I plan to enter this field of development and will be making decisions about infrastructure and human development routinely.
Pangasinan
Unfortunately, the fun trip I took on Thursday was made necessary from a sad occurrence. The brother of the primary cook at the school (she trains all the students in preparing and cooking the food) died on Wednesday from cancer. She had been expecting it for a while, but death is rarely, in its finality, anticipated. Her family wanted her to come home as soon as possible, but the director of the school, who has worked with the cook for a long time, a decade at least, did not want her to travel on her own to the funeral. Sad events are best faced in the company of trusted supporters.
I was very somber in expressing my regrets to her, and I felt blessed to be able to accompany her back home, hoping that my presence would be just that much better for the group as we loved her and grieved for her during the initial period. Well, I always relish an adventure, and this trip was into uncharted territory, so of course I was thrilled. I did not have to contain my joy at being included in the journey because the group had a light air about it. After all, we weren’t dead. I do not think that she wanted to behave in a tragic manner. She was snapping pictures
and talking happily with the others. Remember what I said about Filipinos, they laugh when most people would be crying, but how much more she enjoyed that day because of her attitude than if she had resigned herself to weeping all day (this can also be good in the grieving process of course).We took a Japanese-built road called the Kennon road. It was only for private traffic so a little less congested than the roads filled with Victory Liners and commercial semis (I did see a couple open-air bedded trucks that were carrying potatoes in large quantities, but I guess that was more local than the big container semis). It was a perfect day and I was in the front seat! The director of the school told us that she doesn’t like to sit in the front seat because one time, she and the maintenance man at the school were pulled over for not wearing their seatbelts, and they decided to, in all fairness, split the violation. Now, to avoid having to pay for any violations that may be incurred from refusing to wear her seatbelt, she opts for the back where there are no seatbelts to wear even if she did care to wear them. I suppose that is one way of avoiding a ticket. Or, she could have decided to start wearing her seatbelt! It’s funny how we choose to deal with problems. Some people avoid them or cut corners to steer clear of the annoyance and others face the problem head on and choose to acquiesce to the needed change that must occur to prevent the problem. I guess I am of the second persuasion based on this example although I do have an unfair advantage since I grew up wearing my seatbelt and it is second nature to put it on as soon as I seat myself. Anyway…all that was to say that I got the front seat and was able to take some great pictures. Sorry, I can get a little long-winded sometimes.
The succession we took is quite interesting and will give you an idea of what it is like to go from the city to the provinces. The Kennon road was quite modern, aside from the places that were ravaged by the typhoon. These we hit about one hour into the trip where parts of the road had been washed away and even some areas before the bridges were lacking in the stability I would have wanted to see. Oh, well, there was large potato-carrying truck in front of us, and it did not seem too nervous, so neither was I. From Kennon road, we used the town roads, which are still paved, although they are a little narrower and vans like ours are forced to drive more carefully as the presence of too many “tricycles,” pedestrians, cyclists, and motorcycle riders too count portend possible accidents of a horrendous nature. Fortunately for me, I found myself in a van with a very competent driver. Had I been driving the van, I would have surely ridden over several pedestrians or tricycles or collided with one of the Victory Liner buses or local jeepneys. I will never drive in the Philippines or any place in the developing world. I do not have the sensitization for that type of looming calamity.
In the Philippines people use their horns as a way to communicate with others on the road. It seems to be very effective. For instance, we were driving in a medium-sized provincial town and saw a tricycle in front of us. To signal to that driver that we were about to pass, we honked our horn. There are no turn signals, just horns. I still jump every time a jeepney passes me and honks its horn. It is doing nothing other than warning me of its presence and its impending passing. So, from the provincial towns, we turned onto a side street where we began to see rice on the road. That means that there is a lighter load of traffic making it a good drying ground for the rice. We stopped on this concrete road to visit one of the cook’s brothers. It was a beautiful home constructed from concrete blocks, which is a popular method of building houses here. It is solid and cheap, I suppose. We used their ladle-flushing porcelain bowl then proceeded to our destination: the home where her deceased brother lived and widow now lives. From this cement-cracked road, we turned onto a dirt and rock path, passing a muddy pond that was fit only for the cows to bathe in. Sometimes I wish I were as indiscriminate as the cows. I could just float like a princess in filth and be as happy as a clam (are clams really happy? I am not so sure, but it is fun to use these useless phrases as if everyone knows how to generate a reaction). Don’t worry, though, I am fully aware of the bacteria that fester in those places of murky standing water. I am really saying that at that point, I was so hot that the murky water was tempting ☺
The final trek of the trip was from the rocky and dirt road (which I thought was the lowest form of path you coul
d find) to no road at all, but clearly the path we needed to take (so, I was wrong). I guess you can build anything anywhere with no regard for the manner of getting there; it is also true, however, that these people were not using any sort of vehicle, so this little goat path was all they needed. I say goat path because they were in fact goat-raisers (is there a better term for that?)I saw the ugliest duck I have ever seen that looked like it had the weight of the world on its shoulders, well, on its face. This duck was so painfully ugly; it was hard to look at it ☺ Besides this one pitiful duck, there were many chickens (my favorite...) and a couple mangy dogs like there are everywhere. I have never seen so many dogs; no wonder people in the Philippines eat dog. They are about as common as our cows are in WI. Too bad you can’t use them for leather or clothes or making cheese. I would eat dog if someone offered it to me. I would think that I was doing a good service to society by cleaning up their streets. Hahaha!
Our hosts and the cook from the school made us lunch, which is customary when one has guests over. Filipinos are very hospitable, and they will go out of their way to offer their guests whatever they have. The house where her brother’s widow lived was made from bamboo and reeds. It is called a nipa hut and is very practical for them. The house is on stilts, so the animals can go underneath the house for shelter when it rains or to cool off. I noticed that there was no kitchen and wondered where they made their food. I found out that they have an outdoor kitchen where there are two places to make a fire and everything is cooked over an open fire. The greens that we usually make at the school that are really tasty (I think they are a variety of watercress) were much smokier in flavor and were delicious. How time intensive, though, and what a labor of love that they really have to deal with all the time. I am a pretty adaptable person, but cooking over an open fire would be difficult to get used to; one, it would be logistically difficult because the fire cooks food a lot differently than gas or electric and two, it would be a great change in routine because it is much more time intensive to cook in this rudimentary style. At least, it was open air, so the smoke was well ventilated and would not harm them in the long run.
We amused our
selves by playing a game called Blokus and by arranging flowers for the funeral. I have never arranged flowers, but it turns out to be very fun. We had green gardening foam onto which we stuck the flowers that had just been purchased in the market in Baguio. It was hard to just sit because the flies clearly had a powerful reign over that place and when one sits down, that person is fair game to be irritated by the flies. I could not support it, so I tactfully avoided their buzzing antics by keeping on the move. It also helped to create a little breeze that was far more comfortable than sitting in the humidity and heat. Surprisingly, though, aside from the flies and the heat, it was quite agreeable out there. I think I could get used to it if there was a reason that I needed to…you know, if I were to become a goat herder and a bamboo farmer. It could happen.On the way back, we stopped immediately at a gas station to use the CR (comfort room) because no one used the CR at the bamboo hut (it wasn’t that we were unwilling, it was simply a fact that no one knew were it was and no one bothered to ask. While we were stopped, there was this cute old lady that had
bags of egg-shaped balls with some white substance on the bottom. I thought maybe they were chocolates, but our driver said they were quail eggs. I was not going to buy any, but this woman was an excellent saleswoman. She persisted in her sale and came over to me. I tried to wave her away; then she told me I was beautiful and just stared. I couldn’t tell her to leave at that point, after having complimented me. She hooked me, so I bought a dollar’s worth (five packets) which generated a large smile. It was so worth it, and the eggs tasted great!
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