Some of the more astute of you probably noticed that I am writing more about general conditions than my everyday life. This is partly because I want you to know the conditions that these people live in, and partly because I am not doing very interesting things.
My day starts at around 6 AM (by choice), and I go to the kubow, a covered pavilion-like piece of outdoor furniture, and write an entry for you guys. Val usually wakes up a little later, gets me a cup of tea, and proceeds to get Mona ready for school. They leave at 7, and I read/lounge/play spoons until she gets back. Val and I eat breakfast together, and she gets to work at the clinic. I do all sorts of odd jobs for her, from fixing the drainage of her potted avocado tree to finding the average cost per burns dressing to doing the dishes to sending mass emails for fundraising to setting up her Gmail account and transferring everything from her Hotmail to walking the dogs to helping Mona with her homework, etc., etc. Val's clinic is open on Mondays, Wednesdays, Fridays, and Saturdays, but people invariably come for help. I like helping Val out. For one thing, I wake up fairly full of energy, and go to bed exhausted. Occasionally, I go do some last-minute shopping or get Yakult for Mona from the corner-store. But mostly, it's been a fairly quiet and simple week.
Sunday, June 29, 2014
Water
The water situation in Zambales is atrocious. There are a few ways of getting water here: 1) Pay the water company for water from the tap, which is rusty and has quite a few bugs in it. None of the ex-pats drink it. 2) Some properties have "deep-well pumps" which come from underground reservoirs. Getting water from these is free. 3) For drinking water, you have to go to one of many water purification centers. 4) Some of the especially poor families get water from the rivers and streams around the area.
Because water is so expensive, showering is quite different. At the clinic, when we shower, we have to stand in a large black tub, not unlike a small kiddie-pool. The water from the shower collects in the tub, and you transfer it to a large 3-4 gallon bucket, also in the shower area. The water, newly transferred, is used to flush the toilet (let me explain). Toilets, as Americans know them, are non-existent here. Here, they have no seats, i.e., they are just bowls. Plumbing is also practically non-existent in residential areas, so the pressure from pouring a quart or so of water into the bowl after it is full of you-know-what essentially flushes the toilet.
Because water is so expensive, showering is quite different. At the clinic, when we shower, we have to stand in a large black tub, not unlike a small kiddie-pool. The water from the shower collects in the tub, and you transfer it to a large 3-4 gallon bucket, also in the shower area. The water, newly transferred, is used to flush the toilet (let me explain). Toilets, as Americans know them, are non-existent here. Here, they have no seats, i.e., they are just bowls. Plumbing is also practically non-existent in residential areas, so the pressure from pouring a quart or so of water into the bowl after it is full of you-know-what essentially flushes the toilet.
Friday, June 27, 2014
Pets
Val has two wonderful dogs and two wonderful cats. The dogs are named Bonnie and Waggley, and the cats are named Tom and Jerry. The dogs are well behaved, they deal with people nicely, they occasionally bark at animals walking down the street, but they are what pets are supposed to be. The cats like a nice lounge, they hunt, and again, are pretty much a textbook pet cat.
This is not true for other dogs (I rarely see cats). From what Val tells me, the vast majority of ex-pats treat their dogs like they should. However, the ex-pats make up a small percentage of the Zambales population. Most Filipinos keep their dogs in a cage with a foot long chain keeping them there. If they don't do that, they have them unleashed and just behind the gate. And most of the time that isn't an issue. But gates are big and dogs are small, so now you have a brand new stray dog. And they are vicious. If another dog passes by, they bare their teeth, bark, growl, and other not-nice things.
Side note: I have been walking Bonnie and Waggley with Val since I have gotten here. Apparently, issues, i.e., loose dogs, have been arising only in the past few days. But it's probably not my fault. I hope.
Anyway, Val and I walk the dogs, and unfortunately there is only one route to the field we let them loose in. And on this route, there is one house with a gate that has a hole big enough to let one of their smaller dogs out. And it is mean. And yesterday, there were a handful of dogs without any restrictions whatsoever. Most defended their territory and barked as we walked past but didn't do much else. There was one in particular that followed us for a while, and the whole time it did, it was mean.
Good dogs are great, but mean dogs are incredibly scary.
This is not true for other dogs (I rarely see cats). From what Val tells me, the vast majority of ex-pats treat their dogs like they should. However, the ex-pats make up a small percentage of the Zambales population. Most Filipinos keep their dogs in a cage with a foot long chain keeping them there. If they don't do that, they have them unleashed and just behind the gate. And most of the time that isn't an issue. But gates are big and dogs are small, so now you have a brand new stray dog. And they are vicious. If another dog passes by, they bare their teeth, bark, growl, and other not-nice things.
Side note: I have been walking Bonnie and Waggley with Val since I have gotten here. Apparently, issues, i.e., loose dogs, have been arising only in the past few days. But it's probably not my fault. I hope.
Anyway, Val and I walk the dogs, and unfortunately there is only one route to the field we let them loose in. And on this route, there is one house with a gate that has a hole big enough to let one of their smaller dogs out. And it is mean. And yesterday, there were a handful of dogs without any restrictions whatsoever. Most defended their territory and barked as we walked past but didn't do much else. There was one in particular that followed us for a while, and the whole time it did, it was mean.
Good dogs are great, but mean dogs are incredibly scary.
Thursday, June 26, 2014
Castillejos
The town that the burns/cleft lip/palate clinic is in is Castillejos, in the province of Zambales. It is a poor town. Incredibly poor. The clinic is, for Western standards, not what it should be, but in Castillejos, it is one of the nicest houses in town. I shall now describe the town.
Roads: There is one main road in Castillejos, with lots of little dirt sidepaths. The road is covered with little businesses, from cornerstores to barbershops to a gunstore to little food stalls. Sad to say, many of the residents of Castillejos don't have much business sense, meaning that the moment they have money to rent the land to open a store, they do. And many of the shops fail as soon as they open.
Vehicles: Most of the vehicles on the road are either jeepneys, long hollowed-out, no doors or windows, 23-person carriers that operate much like public transportation, trikes, which are motorcycles with a passenger side-car that can hold two people, and a third behind the driver, or motorcycles, often with two or more people. Val, the owner of the clinic, owns a stainless steel jeep with two seats in the front, and cargo space in the back. It is as barebones as a car can get. The clutch is between the two front seats, just on the floor of the car, the wires in the dash are just hanging out, the A/C is two fans and slideable windows, the doors work with small hook latches, most of the -meters in the dash don't really work, any lights in the front are just little lightbulbs, and you can open the hood with a latch on either side of the engine compartment.
Supermarkets: Imagine a conventional supermarket, full of fresh fruits, vegetables, fish and meats, with some frozen prepared meals, breakfast cereal, etc. Mostly full of things that are good for you. Not in the Philippines. Here, a supermarket is a glorified gas station store. Everything in the store is packaged. Everything. Chips, crackers, insta-ramen, candy, soda, you name it, and it's there in 17 flavors and varieties. The only place for people to get fresh fruits and vegetables is the palenque, or the market. It's a big open-air market with dozens, maybe hundreds, of vendors. There is an area for clothes, for produce, for rice, for meat, for fish, for prepared foods, etc. The vegetable stands had shredded banana heart, which is actually a banana tree seedling. It's hard to describe but you can cook it like a starch. We went to a stand owned by one of the aboriginal peoples, and the owner was 19 and a mother of 4. Val had helped her child medically, and she insisted that Val take a banana heart. The stands also had a sort of medley of cabbage, green bean, eggplant, and what looked to be butternut squash.
People: Families in Zambales are very large. Couples get married between 16-19, generally, and have lots and lots of children. Mona came from a squatter family, and she was the 10th child. They are now on their 14th child.Granted, that's probably an extreme, but here is another example. A former patient of Val's came in yesterday because she heard that Val was looking for a maid. She wasn't. Anyway, the patient is almost 17, and her parents just had another child. She quit her job at the water station because her mom needed help with the children, and now she needs to get one to support the family. Another common sight is an ex-pat marrying a young Filipina. There is generally a 10-15+ year age difference.
Food: Val is an extraordinary cook. So far, for dinner I have had roast chicken, steak and fries, tacos with homemade flour tortillas, and fried chicken. All made at home. Fresh meat is fairly available. The meat shop chain "Fresh Options" is overseen by a former veterinary surgeon, so the meat is of good quality. Val's assistant is also a good cook and baker, although I have yet to taste any of her food. There are plenty of street stalls with food of their own, although I probably won't be having it on account of foreign germs and whatnot. At the palenque, we did stop for "banana-que" which is essentially caramelized bananas on a stick. They also sold fried squash balls, which were mild and pleasant. One of Val's friends sells organic salted eggs, and she is looking into safe balut, so I can have the complete Filipino experience.
More will be on the way!
Roads: There is one main road in Castillejos, with lots of little dirt sidepaths. The road is covered with little businesses, from cornerstores to barbershops to a gunstore to little food stalls. Sad to say, many of the residents of Castillejos don't have much business sense, meaning that the moment they have money to rent the land to open a store, they do. And many of the shops fail as soon as they open.
Vehicles: Most of the vehicles on the road are either jeepneys, long hollowed-out, no doors or windows, 23-person carriers that operate much like public transportation, trikes, which are motorcycles with a passenger side-car that can hold two people, and a third behind the driver, or motorcycles, often with two or more people. Val, the owner of the clinic, owns a stainless steel jeep with two seats in the front, and cargo space in the back. It is as barebones as a car can get. The clutch is between the two front seats, just on the floor of the car, the wires in the dash are just hanging out, the A/C is two fans and slideable windows, the doors work with small hook latches, most of the -meters in the dash don't really work, any lights in the front are just little lightbulbs, and you can open the hood with a latch on either side of the engine compartment.
Supermarkets: Imagine a conventional supermarket, full of fresh fruits, vegetables, fish and meats, with some frozen prepared meals, breakfast cereal, etc. Mostly full of things that are good for you. Not in the Philippines. Here, a supermarket is a glorified gas station store. Everything in the store is packaged. Everything. Chips, crackers, insta-ramen, candy, soda, you name it, and it's there in 17 flavors and varieties. The only place for people to get fresh fruits and vegetables is the palenque, or the market. It's a big open-air market with dozens, maybe hundreds, of vendors. There is an area for clothes, for produce, for rice, for meat, for fish, for prepared foods, etc. The vegetable stands had shredded banana heart, which is actually a banana tree seedling. It's hard to describe but you can cook it like a starch. We went to a stand owned by one of the aboriginal peoples, and the owner was 19 and a mother of 4. Val had helped her child medically, and she insisted that Val take a banana heart. The stands also had a sort of medley of cabbage, green bean, eggplant, and what looked to be butternut squash.
People: Families in Zambales are very large. Couples get married between 16-19, generally, and have lots and lots of children. Mona came from a squatter family, and she was the 10th child. They are now on their 14th child.Granted, that's probably an extreme, but here is another example. A former patient of Val's came in yesterday because she heard that Val was looking for a maid. She wasn't. Anyway, the patient is almost 17, and her parents just had another child. She quit her job at the water station because her mom needed help with the children, and now she needs to get one to support the family. Another common sight is an ex-pat marrying a young Filipina. There is generally a 10-15+ year age difference.
Food: Val is an extraordinary cook. So far, for dinner I have had roast chicken, steak and fries, tacos with homemade flour tortillas, and fried chicken. All made at home. Fresh meat is fairly available. The meat shop chain "Fresh Options" is overseen by a former veterinary surgeon, so the meat is of good quality. Val's assistant is also a good cook and baker, although I have yet to taste any of her food. There are plenty of street stalls with food of their own, although I probably won't be having it on account of foreign germs and whatnot. At the palenque, we did stop for "banana-que" which is essentially caramelized bananas on a stick. They also sold fried squash balls, which were mild and pleasant. One of Val's friends sells organic salted eggs, and she is looking into safe balut, so I can have the complete Filipino experience.
More will be on the way!
Wednesday, June 25, 2014
Val & Co.
It seems I have been talking about Val without actually describing her. Val is a wonderful English woman who moved to Australia in her 30s. She is a highly trained nurse specializing in burns treatment. She is about 5'8" or 5'9", dark hair and brown eyes. She exudes a motherly air, making you feel right at home at her clinic. She has seen much during her years as a nurse, and always has a story to tell. When Val first came to the Philippines, she was planning to stay for 6 months, but during her work she met a child with a cleft lip and palate whose parents didn't want her, and essentially tried to kill her through neglect. That child, now named Monalisa, is Val's almost officially adopted daughter. She is quite rambunctious. I couldn't have chosen a better pair to stay with during my time in the Philippines.
Tuesday, June 24, 2014
Subic
Subic is about a three-hour drive north of Manila. Subic is a province, not a city, and a very picturesque one at that. North of Manila, the terrain gets more mountainous, and so by the time we got to Subic Town, where the hotel we were staying at was, the geographical landscape was an amalgamation of mountains, jungle, and fields. Picture the movies located in Vietnam, with the shots of the jungle covered mountains.
The drive up was quite beautiful. I tried reading my book, but was too distracted by the scenery. The road to Subic goes straight through the mountains, so instead of cutting tunnels through them, the Filipino government essentially cut a "V" into the mountains, with the road at the base of the "V". Our driver was from a town farther north, so he told us about the geography and tidbits about his childhood etc. Granted, Dad and Rebecca asked him, so he was obligated to respond.
Side Note: Drivers, maids, and service people of that sort are somewhat treated as sub-humans. Not to say that they are mistreated, but people don't recognize them as people, rather "the help". Their employers generally interact with them in a minimal way, so they are not used to the people they work for asking about their lives, inviting them to meals, or giving them a place to sleep other than the company van. If you can't already tell, I am talking about our experience with our driver. In the States, for the most part, if you hire a driver or a maid etc., you act courteously towards them. And the US has laws that protect them from various ethical issues like expecting them to sleep in the 40 sq. ft. maid's room or their van. We hit civilization at about lunchtime, and stopped at a McDo's for lunch. We invited the driver to eat with us, and he was uncertain about this. When we ordered our food, he wanted to pay for himself, and Dad insisted that the driver need not pay for his food, and again he was uneasy about this. Eventually, the uneasiness turned into gratitude. We went out for dinner that night with Val, the owner of the clinic I am working at, and we invited the driver to eat with us. After some cajoling, he finally joined us. Dad paid for a place for the driver to stay for the weekend, and he was just overjoyed about this. It was understandable, but I fear we went a touch too far. The next morning, on our journey to visit the clinic, he got us fruit that a village boy picked off of a tree. It was tart and soft. I was the only one out of the three of us (Dad, Rebecca, and myself) to try it, and I probably shouldn't have on account of the questionable source. Later that day, he got us each a balut (the famous almost duck, cooked days before it hatches). Again, none of us touched it. He joined us at the pool as if he were one of the pals. I went to noodle around at the pool table nearby, and he promptly started a game in which he quickly beat me. Anyway, in the States, you treat your driver/maid/whatever like a person, but not like your friend, and in the Philippines, it seems hard to do one without the other.
(Alright, back to the story at hand.) We got to Subic Town, where we were staying at the Wild Orchid Beach Resort for the weekend. It was last in a very long line of resorts, spaced probably every quarter-mile or so. Beach resorts in Subic are a misnomer. Yes, they are resorts, and yes they are by the beach, but you don't actually swim at the beach. The beach is where all of the poor people without toilets do their business. Anyway, we got there, checked in, but my room wasn't ready, so Rebecca and I hung out in her room while Dad sorted out the driver.
For what Dad was paying (I have no idea what he paid, Rebecca said "for what we're paying"), the resort was not up to snuff. Their door was coming off of the hinges, I couldn't get my A/C to work until the technician fiddled with the remote, the door across the hall from Dad and Rebecca had all of the paint sanded off, when we went to the pool, they ran out of towels and then after over a half-hour, got us room towels, which in the room they specifically said not to use. But other than being a little run-down, it wasn't that bad. The view from my room was great. I saw into the bay, which had a few carrier ships of various sizes. There was also a mountain range dead ahead, which was gorgeous at dawn.
Sunday afternoon, Dad and Rebecca got rid of me again after seeing me for only a few days. Ms. Val Smith-Orr and her adopted daughter Mona picked me up and we were off to the clinic.
For what Dad was paying (I have no idea what he paid, Rebecca said "for what we're paying"), the resort was not up to snuff. Their door was coming off of the hinges, I couldn't get my A/C to work until the technician fiddled with the remote, the door across the hall from Dad and Rebecca had all of the paint sanded off, when we went to the pool, they ran out of towels and then after over a half-hour, got us room towels, which in the room they specifically said not to use. But other than being a little run-down, it wasn't that bad. The view from my room was great. I saw into the bay, which had a few carrier ships of various sizes. There was also a mountain range dead ahead, which was gorgeous at dawn.
Sunday afternoon, Dad and Rebecca got rid of me again after seeing me for only a few days. Ms. Val Smith-Orr and her adopted daughter Mona picked me up and we were off to the clinic.
Thursday, June 19, 2014
Trip #2
Well, I'm back. To the Philippines, that is. I got here, after a 22-hour plane flight, on Tuesday night. I came back to 1) see Dad and Rebecca, and 2) do something meaningful with my time that colleges are interested in. I begin part 2 on Saturday. I will be traveling to a small village 6 hours north of Manila to work at a small clinic aimed at children with various ailments, such as burns, cleft palates, etc. I will be there as a handyman, fixing things as I go, and I will be dealing with the children through speech therapy and various summer camp-like activities. Rebecca and Dad will drive up to Wild Orchid Beach Resort with me, on the way to the village, and we will spend the weekend there. The owner/operator of the clinic will meet us there and take me the rest of the way.
So far, I haven't done much except college stuff and get ready for the 3-4 week village-living experience. It's kind of weird, saying college stuff. As you may know, I am a rising senior, aka, just a senior, so that means that I have to research college, start filling out applications, and start writing the dreaded essays. I think that I have my final list of 9 schools I will be applying to. And they are Rice University, Purdue University, University of Michigan @ Ann Arbor, Boston University, Georgia Institute of Technology, University of Texas @ Austin, University of Texas @ Arlington, Texas A&M @ College Station, and Colorado School of Mines. Honestly, a pretty daunting list. My preferred major (unless, or rather, until I change my mind) is any one of Aerospace Engineering, Astronomy, or Astrophysics. So pretty much something to do with space.
Whoever is reading this, I will keep you updated on my progress, as my grandmother made me promise that I will keep documenting my exploits this summer. When more interesting things happen, I will let you know.
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