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Some_peoples_kids
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Name: frisbee is awesome
Interests: "For what do we live but to make sport for our neighbors and laugh at them in our turn?"
Jane Austen
Expertise: "Tomorrow we can drive around this town and let the cops chase us around. The past is gone and something might be found to take its place."
Gin Blossoms
Message: message meEmail: email me
Website: visit my website
Member Since:
2/19/2006
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| It's been a long time since I posted on this blog. Not that there hasn't been a lot going on or stuff to write about, but I mainly post all that on my other blog. This two blog thing is a bit ridiculous I think. And yet...I keep it up.
Today was a good day, surprisingly. It did not start that way. Lazy night owl that I am, I usually wake up at 7, clean up a bit, make my oatmeal-breakfast drink, toss on some clothes, brush the old teeth, grab a few necessities and head out the door to class, which starts at 7:30. But this whole week has been weird. Monday was a review day because Tuesday and Wednesday were quarterly exams. Then on Thursday we had UN Day, with a big program celebrating the UN. It was...bizarre. At first there was this long-winded speaker who blabbed on and on. I tried to tune him out. Then was the Miss/Mr. UN pageant. Oh man...so wish somebody else could have been there to laugh with me. It was, quite literally, some kind of weirdo beauty/costume pageant. I didn't even recognize a few of my students. Every day they show up in their uniforms looking like clone cute Filipino children. And yesterday they strutted out onto stage in full-blown make-up and short skirts, high heels and nylons. Wow, I thought. That is a SHORT skirt! And then I realized, that's Maremar, one of my freshmen (who, btw, are the equivalent of 7th graders). So Maremar sashays up to the mic and announces in her best grown-up super model voice, "I'm Maremar Alera, 12 years old!" How odd... And the show goes on... It was entertaining at first, but then they just proceeded to do the same catwalk moves in various outfits. After awhile it was getting boring. The best/worst part of the show was when Ms/Mr USA walked out...followed by Ms/Mr Hawaii. And then the kids gave facts about their countries. Did you know that most people in "the country of Hawaii" speak English and follow American customs? Shocking, truly shocking. Needless to say, geography is not my students' strong point.
This morning I woke up at 6am to music blaring. You see, whenever we have programs, they stack about 10 huge speakers on each other and blast all kinds of horrid, inane music all day long. I'm talking Lady Gaga crap. (un)Fortunately, my li'l hut is only about 30 meters from the school, which is handy for sleeping in, but not handy when the speakers go up. Needless to say, I wasn't thrilled. Today and tomorrow are the "Interclass Sports Meet" when the classes compete against each other in various physical games. Anyhow, we had an opening program (blah blah blah...more boredom) and in the middle of it I got a text saying that we had an emergency consolidation drill. If there's some kind of emergency (civil unrest, natural disaster, etc.), we have to meet with other volunteers in our area. Well, my fellow volunteer was on vacation, so I set off by myself, went into town, met up with the staff person assigned to me, and then got permission to go back home because I hadn't brought any clothes as I had been unaware that we had to stay overnight. Anyhow, I got back and, thank goodness, the program was finished.
I saw that the freshmen girls were taking on the sophomores in softball, so I started coaching the batters on how to hold the bat. When the game was over, some of the junior girls came up and we started batting around. Then Grace, one of the girls, asked me what my fav sport was. Naturally, the answer was frisbee. So we got a frisbee and started tossing. Then we got some other kids together and played a very short, very hot game of ultimate. It was awesome! And the field used to be a rice field, so every step puts you ankle deep in mud. Pretty hilarious. They all seemed to like it though. And some of the girls were amazing!!!
After that we got a game of barefoot mud softball going. I even slid for second base, which earned me major popularity points with the students and teachers (although, I'm ranked pretty high in popularity anyway...being American, white, blonde and green eyed sort of crushes any competition here...). It started raining and I really wanted to play in the rain, but I had to get cleaned up and head back to town before all transportation shuts down. So here I am, in town, alone, at night with nothing to do but blog. It's weird being here at night alone. I'm used to being alone at night...but out in my little hut, surrounded by rice fields, being attacked by various insects. Not strolling around town at dusk with lots of people out and about. It's kind of nice, in a weird way. Like the darkness gives me a few more seconds of anonymity...a few more seconds before people realize I'm white and don't belong here. It's kind of comforting.
I think the best part of the day was being on a team again. I haven't played team sports in a long time. I was standing on 3rd base (a sandbag that I almost broke my toes on), my legs shaking, my heart racing...not so much from sprinting (although sprinting in ankle-deep sticky suction mud is tricky) but from the adrenaline rush of playing on a team again. I do a fair amount of hiking and some running here, but none of it is remotely competitive or team oriented. I miss that like crazy. And the second best part was that I was playing with GIRLS!!! A lot of guys here play sports, but you don't see most girls playing. And, like I mentioned before, everyday I see them in their uniforms and they all look...well, kind of boring. But today they were getting muddy and they were wearing sporty clothes and hats. And they were having as much fun as I was! So awesome... Hopefully I can get some games going more often...
And that was my fantastic day.
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This was written by my friend, Becky, on her private blog, with a few suggestions from Alicia and me. I think it's hilarious. You might not think so, but then again, you just might.
You Know You Live in the Third-World If...
So, considering I’m sitting in my room back in Batan pretty bored because of another brownout, where my computer is the only item I have that holds a charge and can entertain me in this pitch black, let me ask you: How do you know that you live in a place with faulty electricity? Or, I could phrase it like Jeff Foxworthy.
You know you live in a third-world country if:
*Your lighter and cell phone have built-in flashlights (for the constant blackouts)
*You, and/or your neighbors, live in homes made of bamboo and other indigenous materials, which are easy to spy through (i.e. peeping toms)
*You have to go to the market every morning and evening because you don’t have refrigeration
*Your neighbors have no grass, but two cows, in their 25x20 foot front yard
*Your barangay (neighborhood) has a dirt basketball court, and the basketball stand is made out of bamboo and native woods
*You (and all students at your school) use a loose razor blade to sharpen your pencils because there are no real pencil sharpeners within a 20-mile radius
*You hand-wash your laundry, poised on your haunches, in a series of pans with water drawn from a well that smells like rotting eggs
*You kill, bleed, and/or clean your own meat (pigs, chickens, turkeys, etc.)
*Your mayor only has a fourth-grade education (true story, folks)
*You bath with a bucket and dipper, and you don’t know or remember what warm water feels like
*You get excited if a facility has flushing toilets, and VERY excited if it has toilet paper…so much so that you tell all your friends when you return to the table or if they are traveling to that town (i.e. “If you’re in Kalibo, be SURE to go to latte dude! They have TOILET PAPER!!! And the toilets flush on their own!!)
*You only feel clean ten minutes a day; the ten minutes you are in the shower. After showering, you immediately start sweating again…and if you live at my house, you smell during and after showering (my water smells like sewage)
*You talk about your bowel issues with complete strangers…because everybody here gets bizarre parasites
*You refuse to throw away items, even if a rat has clearly eaten part of it (i.e. soap, spaghetti…you just use your leathermen to carve the teeth marks, then resume business as usual)
*You become so dehydrated that you drink water that was originally ice used to chill fresh fish, which you melted in a sketchy pot under the heat of the sun…and you’re just happy that your have some liquid to ingest. You’re not even concerned with fishy taste and smell, or the amoebas that you’re surely acquiring
*Your leftover dinner was stolen by rats, cats, or small children from the neighborhood…you don’t know which; you’re just pissed that you don’t have the extra fish for breakfast
*You start a conversation, in a foreign language, with women and small children, but soon find yourself surrounded by drunk men with guitars who declare you all “best friends forever”…but you’re not concerned because, although extremely intoxicated and inclined to lean into you, they are all well under 120 pounds and you could take them on in a moments notice if need be
*You know your music taste has deteriorated from the constant assault of outdated and/or ultra-poppy music, especially when you look forward to the next time that you have internet access so you can download classics like “Paint My Love” and “God Must Have Spent a Little More Time On You”, which you saved in your text drafts to remind yourself to download from Limewire
Every time you run into another American, the topic quickly turns to food, particularly foods you ate in your former life, like Chipotle and Kraft macaroni-n-cheese
*You are thrilled to see a movie in the theater for the first time in months, but decide to leave the theater after twenty minutes of visual assault when you realize the movie is pornographic and has no plot other than “searching for your stolen organ in the strip club” (movie: Crank, High Voltage—don’t rent it)
*The sight of an infant or toddler clutching to its parent(s) for dear life as they zoom by on a motorcycle no longer appalls you | | |
| Well, if you haven't guessed by the title, this is not going to be an uplifting blog. Which is really the only reason I keep this blog around because I can't write this stuff on my other one. Alrighty, so here's the deal: we're all at a training session for language and other random topics. And today our last session was a meeting with everyone in our sector, which in my case is education. So we divided up into our regions and talked about what we'd been doing, challenges we'd been facing and solutions we'd tried to counter them. And everyone has had his or her fair share of frustrations but we're all trying hard to actually do something productive here. We're all teaching (despite the numerous flaws in the education system), we're all starting other projects (be they HIV/AIDS prevention/education, book donations, remedial reading, sports programs, world maps, and a bunch of other stuff), and we're all frustrated but determined that our time here will not be wasted and that, when we leave, we will have accomplished something, whether it's tangible or not. So that's the scene. We go around the circle until we get to...well...let's call him DBag...who informs us in a lofty voice that he has been traveling around his province with the vice-governor of said province, has visited at least half the towns in the province, and 22 islands in the Philippines. His accomplishments, he notes with pride, are exposing local people to Americans. (We all pretty much cracked up at his use of the word "exposing" but that's another story.) Now, let me interrupt here to say that this particular gentleman, until a few days ago, had long, ratty, disgusting hair (people here are very concerned with appearance and hygiene and men are expected to be clean-cut), and has been known to have hygiene (i.e. regular shower) problems in the past. He's also arrogant and idiotic and likes to talk with authority on things he knows nothing about. So really, do you want DBag representing America and giving everyone that impression of us? Because I sure as hell don't. But let me continue the story... So somebody asks him, what have you been doing at your site, at your school? And he says...well, I've been teaching but my students are too shy around me. Um, hello, we've been here for five months. Maybe if you didn't spend so much time touring around islands and actually went to your classroom, your students would know you and talk to you. Then he says he's been thinking about projects but whenever he talks to someone about them, they never get done. Yeah, that's why we're here. To keep talking to people and to MAKE things happen. Not mention them to someone and complain when they don't happen. What this all means is the our good friend DBag is essentially getting paid to travel around and hang out and isn't accomplishing anything. Nor does he have plans to do so in the future. The rest of us were pretty much fuming. The only good thing that happened was that one of our managers/administrators was sitting in the circle with us and heard all of it. She was as outraged as the rest of us and we had a good gripe session about DBag with her when he left. I'm pretty sure some of the higher-ups are going to hear about it and hopefully either they'll ride his ass to frickin do something or they'll kick him out. I'm sorry for the harsh language, but this really pisses me off. Everyone else out here is doing something while this chump is just parading around like he's f-ing Miss America, making "friends" with everyone and doing absolutely nothing but make Americans look like pompous, dirty weirdos. Before I just thought he was annoying and creepy, but now I'm seriously ticked off. We're here for a reason. Not to save the world, but to offer people the abilities to improve their own lives. Sigh...okay, I'll quit the rant now. Somedays, this job is a bit much. Despite all the pics and cheery updates, it really isn't all white sand beaches, mangoes and sunny days. | | |
| It's been an interesting past few months. Most of the time I've been loving it (although without the assistance of McDonald's), but that doesn't mean that I'm not totally ready for summer, which has arrived with the full brute force of the sun. School is out, grad was yesterday, which means that today I'm on my way to a random tiny island complete with white sand beaches with a couple of my Peace Corps peeps to enjoy the sun and relax. I plan to read, swim, explore, nap and soak up the rays. And to not be bothered by anything at all. The stresses of living in a developing country and dealing with a different culture coupled with the beastly heat have made me a bit cranky and anti-social lately. My hope is that getting away for a few days will give me an opportunity to reset and rejuvenate, and thus re-inspire my love for this place. So yeah...I'll try to post some pics when I get back. Summer is going to be full of training, camps, workshops, remedial reading sessions, and hopefully some hiking in there as well. Thankfully, a lot of the aforementioned programs will be carried out with the assistance of my fellow PC volunteers, which should make them a lot more entertaining. When I first applied, I wanted to be remote, away from other volunteers, but now that I'm here, I realize how crucial they all are to me. It's not just for emotional and mental support. Everybody here has experiences and knowledge to contribute, so I can learn from them and take that back to my own site. Also, since most of the people who read this are ultimate players, I got to play in the Boracay Open 2009 a few weeks ago with Grant and Kristin and some of there teammates from Hong Kong (as well as a couple of my volunteer friends). We took the B bracket championship, which was pretty awesome. We only lost one game! Playing on the sand was definitely challenging, but a lot of fun. And one of my favorite parts was playing pick-up afterward with a bunch of Filipinos - guys and girls! Most Filipino girls are not real active, so it was awesome to see Filipinas rocking ultimate (and I do mean rocking...some of them kicked my butt, but then again, they do play on the sand every day). So there you have a brief update of what's going on in the life of Laura. Enjoy and play ultimate. Also, if you get the chance, go to Chipotle and eat a burrito for me. Then email me and tell me that you did. It'll make me happy. | | |
| I haven't updated in awhile. It's kind of weird keeping two blogs going. Things are good, on the whole. I mean, life has it's frustrations, right? And I'm going to find those anywhere I go. I think the thing I most struggle with isn't the cultural differences, the food or the climate, it's that damn feeling that I'm not doing anything here. I go to class and my kids do their activities and about half the time they get it completely correct. Another quarter of the time they sort of get it. And the last quarter it goes way over their heads. It's not entirely their fault either. The book sucks. There, I said it. It really sucks. BORING. And way above their level. Why don't we teach at their level and build them up to a higher level? I mean, seriously, they're reading essays that are so far above their comprehension, it's depressing. As one of my friends so aptly put it: It's like making a fat kid run a marathon.
And then there are other moments, like remedial reading. Let me tell you about Dennis. He shows up everyday to my remedial reading sessions, usually with his buddies, Lloyd and Edmon. And he greets me with a shy smile, pulls out his reading materials, and stumbles through a few paragraphs, pointing occaisionally to words he doesn't know, which I then pronounce for him. I love this kid. He wants to read. And I wish, more than anything, that I had better materials. It's all good though. Everyday he's a tiny bit smoother. And with my stunning creative genius, I'm going to make reading materials of my own. How the heck is the poor kid supposed to read when the articles are about giant sequoias? Yeah, he has trouble pronouncing basic words. Let's throw "sequoia" at him. Real nice. So, my plan, as far as I have conceived it, is to write my own story that starts with super basic words and gradually builds to a higher level. So even on days when I feel like I'm getting nowhere because class was cancelled for a dance practice, I think about Dennis, and I think, maybe, just maybe, I'm doing something of value here.
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