THE ROAD LESS TRAVELED BY

Scene at the Mall

2012-01-26T21:38:00.001+09:00

I have written this while I was in the Philippines at the peak of holidays shopping on 23 December 2011 but I was not able to upload it immediately.Christmas is one of the busiest time of the year in the Philippines. Going to the malls is a real challenge with so many people doing their Christmas shopping, long queue in cash counters and taxi bays. For 4 consecutive years now, I have been out of the country and within these four years, I was lucky to be home for the last two years but I don't enjoy anymore the hustle and bustle of the holidays but this year I didn't have choice but to join the people in the malls as I have to buy some important stuff. I must admit that I am not used to it anymore but I couldn't avoid it this year.After finishing my shopping, I went to queue for a taxi. It was a double line queue but I knew that it wouldn't take me long to hop in so I patiently waited for my turn to get a taxi ride. Then suddenly I heard a noise from a woman who was so annoyed with the guards who were assisting the shoppers in the queue to get a taxi. She was complaining why a shopper who was outside, near the exit door was allowed to get a cab. The guards reasoned out they were allowed to get a taxi in that area because they have a baby but this woman insisted that it was not fair. She added that everyone should queue regardless if they have a baby. My uttered silently, what a ruthless woman she is. She even threatened the guards that they will be reported to the management of the mall. The guards however just smiled and left them, which is a real portrayal of a true and genuine Filipino. While listening to this woman, it made me ask myself, is this what Rick was telling me at the boarding lounge of Dili airport that I am near the age when I would feel a stranger in my own country, that I would feel I don't belong anymore because soon, it will be my fifth consecutive year of being out of the country and this was the year he felt such strangeness in Holland. Or was this woman one of those who thinks that she is right and reasonable. I wanted to tell her: be thankful for all the comfort and conveniences you are enjoying in our country. Be thankful to be living in a city where life is being one of the best you could have in this world. I have seen the family she was referring to who has two children, a toddler and a baby. I guess the guards did the right thing of letting them take a ride without queueing with the rest of the shoppers at the taxi waiting area. I just couldn't believe what I have witnessed. I wish and hope that this woman would have the opportunity to be in the country where i have been working and living so that she would come to realize the goodness of life she is living and the comfort she is enjoying. Reflecting this incident during this season of the year, i hope my country would wake up to the real meaning of Christmas. It's not just shopping for presents but more important is keeping the real spirit of Christmas in their hearts.

Why December 7 is a holiday

2011-12-08T23:39:00.001+09:00

Yesterday and today are national holidays in Timor Leste to celebrate independence from Indonesia and Immaculate Conception respectively. This country has the most number of holidays I have known. These celebrations and commemorations can be traced back to history of their independence from Portugal and Indonesia, to massacre, death of important people in their history of struggle, and religious feasts of patron saints. Today is one of the latter celebrations, feast of the Immaculate Conception which is the patron saint of Dili I guess because the Cathedral was named in honor of her.

These long list of holidays made NGOs to decide on their own, which among these will they follow because using the holidays calendar of Timor Leste adds up to almost a month in a year. Trying to analyze the background behind all these celebrations would help you understand the reason behind.

Timor Leste is next to Philippines when it comes to Roman Catholic population. It may have only 1.6 million population but majority of them are Catholics. In fact, Timorese are still practicing their faith the traditional way, which is quite impressive although there are also disadvantages if you would look at the economic side of it. But it's no wonder why feast days of saints are big events to Timorese.

On the history side, Timor Leste has been a colony of Portugal and Indonesia. They were freed from these colonizers which made up two independence day celebrations plus the celebration of its proclamation as an independent country after the referendum. It's funny though that when I asked my colleague why December 7 is a holiday, her response to me was a plain 'it has something to do with Indonesia's occupation of our country mana'. I got curious about the story behind the celebration, so i consulted google since there was no one I can ask to get a good answer. I found the answer from: TL Government portal , specifically the biography section of Prime Minister Xanana. December 7, 1975 was the day when Indonesia decided to invade Dili. Though I got this answer, I am still unsatisfied with it, perhaps I would need to research through personal accounts from locals about the history of December 7 because I cannot understand why occupation of Dili is being commemorated. Although I had the same question on one occasion, and I got this answer: it is part of the healing process from the pain they have experienced during the conflict.

Countdown

2011-12-02T00:24:00.001+09:00

Today is the 1st of December, I am one of the many people or specifically Filipinos doing a countdown but mine is not a countdown to Christmas and New Year but the days that i'll be going home for the holidays. Apart from the lack of Christmas spirit in Dili, I personally don't feel any excitement towards it, I asked myself why but I couldn't find any answer. I try to reflect and find out the reasons but these are all 'could be' or 'maybe' because of...

photo from: iloveeasthampton.blogspot.com

...i have been celebrating it away from home and I got used to the feeling of observing it in any way I could just to let it pass

...too old to look forward to material gifts I would receive from family, relatives, friends and much more from a boyfriend. It has been long since I last received a Christmas gift from a boyfriend, I mean on the day itself. I either get it pre or post Christmas which is not exciting anymore. This year, or 2 weeks from now, I have no idea if I would get one

...apart from celebrating it with mama and my nephews and nieces from cousins. I have not celebrated Christmas with my boyfriend for a long time. Another thing which I don't think I would experience 2 weeks from now

It's all mixed emotions, there's something missing which I cannot describe nor articulate. I don't know...really don't know...

A journey into meditation....

2011-11-30T12:18:00.001+09:00

Meditation always amazes me because just the thought of doing it makes me admire people and I knew that I would't manage to do it myself. I always have an impression that it needs so much concentration which I have very low tolerance level. But thanks to facebook because I discovered Dr. Chopra and through his updates I got this website of his daughter Mallika Chopra. It's something I have been looking for, which puts meditation easy to do. There is an on-line course on meditation with Mallika and I decided to try it.

According to her: Though there is no set time on how slowly or how quickly you go through each lesson, we recommend that you space out three days between each lesson so you can fully commit to the core meditation and mindfulness practice contained in each lesson before moving onto the next one. I intend to do it following the 3-day space and too keep the link, I am posting it here so that I can quickly go back to the site and browse.

I plan to keep the journal here as i take another journey to the road less traveled.

Introduction: Meditation with Mallika Chopra: Introduction

Lesson 1: What is Meditation?

Dedicating yourself to a regular meditation practice truly has the power to completely transform your life.

Journal entry: my personal reasons for meditating is to gain the following benefits:
Mental: reduced stress and anxiety, greater sense of relaxation and inner peace
Physical: decreased muscle fatigue and tension
Spiritual: greater sense of self-awareness

I had difficulty paying attention to what i was experiencing, the noise around me. I cannot divert myself away from the usual thoughts I have. But i know that it will take constant practice to get myself used to it.

Lesson 2: The Basics of Meditation

Meditation de-clutters your mind of counterproductive thoughts so that more space is created for happiness, inner peace and a joy for living.

Journal entry: what I always dreaded for practicing meditation happened tonight. Following the instructions in lesson 2, I had a hard time listening to the sound of silence. But I will try to make it a habit everyday until I reached the stage of detaching myself from my own thoughts and reconnecting to silence.

Looking forward, looking back...

2011-11-27T20:51:00.001+09:00

I always look forward to Fr. Roy celebrating the English mass in Aimutin because of his homily. Today is the first Sunday of Advent, the beginning of a new calendar year for the Catholic Church. His homily revolved around how to begin a new year. To do this, he said you have to look back in order to look forward. Meaning, reflect on what happened in the past year and think of how next year could be better.

Looking forward, looking back. A short line but full of meaning which made me reflect on how has been this year to me. I would say that 2011 has been good to me although the beginning was challenging with mama's health condition. But I am indeed thankful for she managed to sustain her good health condition after her hospital confinement in January. I would always be grateful to my family and relatives who have been with her during my absence.

Personally, I have become stronger and braver. I don't know if it goes with the age but I have made decisions which I knew I wouldn't take 5 years ago both personally and professionally.

This year also marked the year when one of my fondest dream came true. I acquired something I longed to have. A decision which I braved to take.

I left the perks and comfort of being a UNV in UNDP. I loved my work, but I couldn't sense any fulfillment in what I was doing. I took this decision without any regrets. Now, I am enjoying my work despite the challenges ahead of me for I am starting a break-through in the monitoring and evaluation system of our organization. The first few weeks were difficult but I am now well-settled with my work and living environment.

Love life has also been good. The beginning of the year started well. Despite all the complications, I am still there. However, I have become stronger and braver to show him that I can let go of him, no matter how difficult it might be. Because of this, he has improved a lot, he is back to where we started.

With the help of internet, family gets closer despite the distance.

I found new friends in Timor Leste which made adjustment, life and living less challenging. Old friends remained to be good and more closer. Old friends mean high school and my two best buddies, Miriam and Jessamyn who may never understand some of my decisions in life but they have remained to be there for me.

Looking back, I have so much to be thankful for. I just hope it would continue to be until the end of this year. Looking forward, I do hope 2012 would be a better year for me, if not, at least the same as this year.

I uttered a short prayer intention after the homily, a prayer I have been praying for a long time. I leave it up to His mighty hands if 2012 would be the right time for Him to give it to me.

Sta. Cruz Massacre...20 Years After

2011-11-13T00:02:00.001+09:00

Timor Leste is commemorating today the Sta. Cruz massacre in Dili. I did not bother myself to find out the story about this historic event until around 8:30 today, Rey, my neighbor and I decided to have our comfort foods at Aru. As we were getting out of our compound, I noticed lighted white candles outside several houses in our neighborhood. Only then I remembered that today, Timor Leste marks the 20th anniversary of Sta. Cruz Massacre. All the more I became curious about the story behind it as we continued driving to the main road and saw more lighted candles outside houses, children and adults alike joined together in lighting candles or watching the lighted ones. Even along the beach road there were floating lighted candles in the sea. Because of this sight, I requested Rey if we could drive around Sta. Cruz cemetery and see what is happening there, but the area was blocked which would mean we have to walk to get closer to the cemetery, an option which I did not take. So, we moved on and while inside the car, I was thinking in admiration how impressive every Timorese's participation in commemorating this tragic event in their country's history.

After our coffee and cake, I googled Sta. Cruz Massacre from the web when I reached home. Of all the links I found, I liked the brief and concise story about it by friends of Timor. While reading this article, all the more I understood this tradition of lighting candles outside their houses. Related or not to any of those who died, it's a show of sympathy to those victims as well as a prayer offering. A symbolic and historic landmarks of their fight for independence.

Once you read the story below, you would understand and, feel with them the pain of it though 20 years has already gone. I also came to realize how forgiving the Timorese are, despite the freshness of their experience during the Indonesian occupation, they have never resented the presence of Indonesians in their country. Read below and be touched by it!

Source: http://www.friendsoftimor.com/santa_cruz_massacre.php

Santa Cruz Massacre - A Black Day in Timor's History

The Dili massacre (also known as the Santa Cruz massacre) was the shooting of East Timorese protesters, in the Santa Cruz cemetery in the capital, Dili, on 12 November 1991.

The protesters, mainly students, launched their protest against Indonesian rule at the funeral of a fellow student, Sebastião Gomes, who had been shot dead by Indonesian troops the month before. The students had been anticipating the arrival of a parliamentary delegation from Portugal, which was still legally recognised by the United Nations as the administering power. This had been cancelled after Jakarta objected to the inclusion in the delegation of Jill Joliffe, an Australian journalist whom it regarded as supportive of the Fretilin independence movement.

At the funeral procession, students unfurled banners calling for self-determination and independence, displaying pictures of the independence leader Xanana Gusmão. As the procession entered the cemetery, Indonesian troops opened fire. Of the people demonstrating in the cemetery, 271 were killed, 382 wounded, and 250 disappeared. One of the dead was a New Zealander, Kamal Bamadhaj, a political science student and human rights activist based in Australia.

The television pictures of the massacre were shown worldwide, causing the Indonesian government considerable embarrassment. In Portugal and Australia, both of which had sizeable East Timorese communities, there was a public outcry.The massacre was eyewitnessed by two American journalists—Amy Goodman and Allan Nairn—and caught on videotape by Max Stahl, who was filming undercover for Yorkshire Television in the UK. The camera crew managed to smuggle the video footage to Australia. They gave it to Saskia Kouwenburg, a Dutch journalist to avoid it being seized and confiscated by the Australian authorities, who had been tipped off by Indonesia and subjected the camera crew to a strip-search when they arrived in Darwin. The video footage was used in the First Tuesday documentary In Cold Blood: The Massacre of East Timor, shown on ITV in the UK in January, 1992.

Many Portuguese felt bad about their country's effective abandonment of their former colony in 1975, and were moved by the footage of people shouting and praying in Portuguese. Similarly, many Australians felt ashamed at their government's support for the repressive Suharto regime in Indonesia, and what they saw as the betrayal of a people who had fought with Australian troops against the Japanese in the Second World War.

The massacre (also euphemistically called the Dili Incident by the Indonesian government) was likened to the Sharpeville Massacre in South Africa in 1960, in which unarmed protesters were also shot dead, and which saw the apartheid regime subjected to international condemnation.Although it prompted the Portuguese government to step up its diplomatic campaign, for the Australian government, the killings were, in the words of foreign minister Gareth Evans, 'an aberration'.

Now commemorated as a public holiday in an independent East Timor, 12th November is remembered by the East Timorese as one of the bloodiest days in their history, which gained international attention to their fight for independence.

Cultural Practice 1 in Timor Leste - Death

2011-11-12T00:49:00.000+09:00

He is one of those local staff who is open to learning new things and always welcome the idea of mentoring and coaching. This morning I went to his office to orient him about the link of M&E with the project log frame. Before I was able to start, he told me about the death of his mother's younger sister and grandfather. After saying my words of sympathy, I took this as an opportunity to validate what I know about Timorese cultural practice about death in a family.

He started with financial implications of death. As family/relative of a dead person, everyone is expected to contribute something. Expectations from a working relative is higher because it is equated to ability to contribute more. According to him, the amount of contributions depend on the degree of relationship. In his case, these two deaths would cost him so much because one is a grandfather and the other one is an auntie. The amount expected for this degree should not be less than US$50 plus rice and vehicle rental to transport family members/relatives to the district where the dead person will be buried which is usually the hometown or birth place. Instead of giving voluntarily, in Timor Leste, it is mandatory. For an average family, US$50 is a huge amount.

I asked my colleague if it's fine with them. He explained to me how difficult it is for them but because it is a cultural practice, they must follow the tradition. I asked what would be the consequence if he won't give anything or he would give less. It's either disowning him as member of the family, or he will be subjected to negative comments and during deaths in his immediate family they will get even with you by doing the same thing. He told me that his salary is actually enough to feed his family but no matter how hard he tried and how much he save out of his salary, at one point in time, he would withdraw the money during such situation. it's like saving for this event or weddings in the family rather than saving for his family's future.

This culture was also similar to what we had back then in the Philippines, like waiting for family members to attend the wake even if takes a long period of waiting, contributing something voluntarily but at least it is not mandatory. Not that this culture has been eroded in the Philippines but we have seen the practical side of it, we don't expect families/relatives to give something but their presence at their own expense is more than enough for us. This similarity though made me ask myself if it's a cultural inheritance from our Spanish roots and their Portuguese roots, our common religion or our regional roots as South East Asian.

Cultural practices in Timor Leste is still very high but I hope, they would soon realize the downside of some of their traditions. Instead of regarding it as a value it becomes a burden to families and relatives.

Trip to Atauro

2011-11-02T00:52:00.000+09:00

This is my first attempt to make a photo story of my trip to Atauro Island. This Island according to wikipedia (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Atauro_Island) is....

Atauro Island (also Ilha de Atauro, Ata'uro) is a small island situated 25km north of Dili, East Timor, on the extinct Wetar segment of the volcanic Inner Banda Arc, between the Indonesian islands of Alor and Wetar. Politically it comprises one of the subdistricts of the Dili District of East Timor. It is about 25 km long and 9 km wide, about 105 km² in area, and is inhabited by about 8000 people. The nearest island is the Indonesian island of Liran, 12 km to the northeast.

This was the ferry taxi which started off at Dili near the Maritime Office. It is usually hired which makes it expensive but there is no choice since the big boat goes to Atauro only on Saturdays.

Our life is entrusted to 'maun' Pilot...maun is a term used as a sign of respect for men. He had a hard time initially to start the engine. He even decided to go back to the shore and change the ferry taxi but then engine worked well as he was reversing so, we continued with it. It was a bumpy ride and I couldn't even let go of my arms from holding on the railings to make sure I am not thrown out of the boat.

This is the humble port of Atauro. There is only one big ship which travels here every Saturday. It took us an hour to reach this port.

It was low tide when we arrived at the port of Atauro which made these sea grasses visible. I was worried that I might drop my camera so, I did not take any photo of other marine species along the shore and under the clear blue waters.

The taxi-ferry just dropped us. With us are vegetables for the resort where we stayed. In less than 30 minutes, the taxi went back to Dili.

Barry's place welcome you with complementary breakfast since it was only around 9AM when we reached his place. It was a buffet breakfast with a good selection of menu to choose from. After our delicious breakfast and after checking in, we started off to the Aldeias (villages) we need to visit. This was our boat that took us there.

We stayed at this place unofficially called "Barry's Place", Barry- the owner's name and place, as in literally his place. During our conversation with him, he doesn't have any official name for his place but because people call it "Barry's place, it became known like that. No advertisement and not on any travel guidebooks, as he doesn't want it. Promotion is by word of mouth.

It took us a while to travel due to the difficulty in finding a place for docking since it was low tide. These children from Baruana Pre-primary school and ECCD were eagerly waiting for us. They were so excited to meet us. I noticed though that most them were barefooted. They guided us on our way to the school.

I was just amazed by these stones that I took a photo of it. One of my favorite photo subjects.

Up close, there was this tiny crab perched on the stone.

The children who walked with us to the Aldeia proper where we are going to meet other students , key leaders and their parents.

Pre-School children in our supported ECCD Center. I felt guilty when the volunteer-teachers were sharing their stories. They were so grateful of the assistance received from my organization. We have worked here for 3 years and my organization is very popular. The staff assigned here knows almost everyone not only in this Aldeia but the entire Atauro Island. The community shared their stories, the gains of the project and the continuing challenges they are facing. I felt guilty when one of them mentioned that their allowance is only USD20 a year while on that day, I was wearing a slipper which costed me the same amount they are getting as 'salary' for teaching these children.

This is one of our projects. Significant changes include:...our children has improved their reading and writing skills. Because of the book club which was organized through the project, our children are able to teach other kids on how to read and write.....we are housed in a comfortable classroom....learning became fun and interesting...etc.

A Catholic Church in Baruana. Before we started the meeting, an opening prayer was led by a 'traditional priest' while the closing prayer was given by the Protestant Pastor.

I was amazed by the shape of this....their school bell to signal start or end of the classes.

another type of school bell...

The 3rd of its kind...school bell

The entire crew of our small boat which helped in pushing the boat to the shoreline so we wouldn't get wet once we got off the boat.

We passed by her house on our way out from the school. I requested if I could have a picture of her, which she eagerly said yes!

Children swimming using their improvised 'life-saver'

I really admire this toilet and bath. The toilet is open pit for organic composting while bathroon is using a ladle to bath rather than a shower which consumes much more water than necessary.

This is one of the cottages as Barry's Place. A tent is pitched inside the cottage.

This was our cottage. It has 6 beds inside including the double-bed on the 2nd floor.

This pregnant woman passed by after the sun rise. The basket is a common carrier hanged on the head with the sling right on the forehead.

The lovely sun rise. I was able to capture this while this father and son were walking along the shoreline, ready to start early with whatever they are doing everyday.

It was market day on our 2nd day in Atauro. The market was just beside Barry's Place and very close to the port.

One of their products for sale.

We used this on our way back to Dili. It only cost $5 each person . We stayed on the deck for more ventilation even though our ticket was for 1st class seat. It took us 2 1/2 hours to travel.

As we were leaving Atauro Island....

Dolphins...

The children who managed to reach this area where the rope for the boats anchor is tied.

Atauro Island from afar....

Berlin Nakroma, the name of the ship but it has a giant TL flag.

As we were approaching Dili, the Cristo Rei from afar...

One of the ships in the coast of Dili

Dili from a distance

The Dili Port

One of the income-generating activities in Atauro Island which sells all types of bag. It serves as one of the 2 souvenir shops in the Island.

Working Legally

2011-10-24T23:01:00.000+09:00

Batugade border - Timor Leste side

Atambua border- Indonesia side

Finally, I am a legal worker in Timor Leste! But securing itwas never quick and easy. I had to extend my tourist visa twice and had aninterview with the immigration officer after securing all the documentsrequired to process the work permit.

Securing a visa prior to entering Timor Leste is notpossible. Aside from having limited consular offices or embassy in othercountries, they don’t allow it. The policy is to enter as a tourist, allow youto extend for two times and during the validity period of your visa extension;you have to secure all documents to start the processing of work permit. Whenyour documents are complete, you would be interviewed together with the head ofthe organization by an immigration officer. The questions are standard like,what is your educational background, where have you worked before, what you aredoing in your organization in Timor Leste, how would you transfer skills tolocals. If you talk a lot, the more you encourage questions. I said this is standard because some ‘Malays’ (foreigners) have the same set of interviewquestions. Immigration Officers visit also your office as part of the process probably to validate its existence.

After the interview, you have to wait for them to inform youif your work permit is ready. It took 6 weeks after the interview before the immigration released my work permit and I learned this when our admin officerchecked it from the labor office of MOFA. Otherwise, we wouldn't know if we have just waited for them to inform us. Immediately we went to the mainoffice of MOFA to get the work permit only to learn that I have to exit TimorLeste so that my passport can be stamped with the work visa.

Yes, I cannot understand why I have to go to a border to geta work visa stamp when they did it in Dili during my extension period. But it’sa rule I have to follow whether I like it or not. So, on a very early Saturday, Iwent with the driver to Batugade and Atambua, the border between Timor Leste and Indonesia respectively. Literally, I exited Timor Leste through Batugade and entered Atambuawhich is the Indonesian border. These two border offices are separated by a halfkilometer no man’s land. Literally, I entered Indonesia, have my passportstamped entry and moved around the immigration office and have my passportstamped exit. Then, I went back to Batugade and the TL immigration officerstamped my passport with work permit and that was it!

It took me 30 minutes to complete the process while it tookus 3 hours going and 3 hours coming back to Dili. To be honest, I don’t see thelogic of it. It doesn’t make any sense at all to do this if the MOFA is locatedin Dili. Besides, the stamp I got from my extension was even of betterquality, because it was a nice sticker, than the work permit which was only a redrubber stamp and manually written with pieces of information on validity period,work permit number, etc. While I understand the fact that they don’t have lawsin place yet, it makes me wonder how this giant system capacitate them because it’ssupposed to be part of their mandate but on the other hand, it could also beresistance to learn and apply what is practical and feasible process on the part of the concerned ministry. It’sdifficult to speculate but this is one thing I cannot understand and find anysense at all. I wonder how it would be again next year when I renew my workpermit for my 2^nd year. Until then...

Looking back...my time at LIKAS

2011-10-15T22:49:00.001+09:00

While browsing, my iPod was playing Noel Cabangon’s latestversion of Kanlungan, a music I’ve grown to love since I started my developmentwork. While listening, it brings back memories of my time as communityorganizer. Looking back it seems like a very distant past. Working with theLingap para sa Kalusugan ng Sambayanan (LIKAS) was my first real NGO work. Iwas shaped and molded into who I am and what I am because of it and the peoplewho were working there, my colleagues, my boss who were my mentors andprofessional advisers up to now.

My team in LIKAS

One of our jamming sessions

This was a hit then, and I was good in doing this...

I started as a humble community organizer in 2 communitiessurrounding Mt. Bulusan Volcano National Park on Biodiversity Conservation. Iwould walk an average of 4 kilometers going and coming out of the communitywithout fear. I love to observe the way of life in the community,the pleasure of their hospitality. Those people I would never forget becausethey loved me like a member of their family.

I also enjoyed the simple pleasures life had to offer methen. Jamming with my colleagues, swimming in the rivers found in the communitieswe were working, trekking, mountain climbing, it was all adventure then. Iloved it and that time, I didn't bother looking outside. I was happy with my work.

After sometime, I was given a break in the organization, from being acommunity organizer to being a program officer, doing multi-task and leading ateam, to training farmers to staff of government ministries from othercountries. My skills and competencies in various aspects of development work was really developed. My potential was harnessed.

I came to know many people through networks. Most of them Iam still in touch. These people influenced me in one way or another about who Iam and what I am doing now. They inspired me to be where I am now.

After eight years of being with LIKAS, I got burned out. Ineeded a change of environment and work. I needed a new adventure. VSO openedthis opportunity for me. I went to Bangladesh which started it all, myinternational development career path. I am where I am now and I am who I amnow because of LIKAS, the people which was more of a family than colleagues.

Push and Pull

2011-10-14T23:35:00.001+09:00

It has been two years since I took another road lesstraveled. A decision made with all the sensibilities I could think of. I triedto ask myself whether it made sense now because by then, it was. It started witha casual dinner which I initially refused but through the prodding of mycolleague who was my temporary shelter in Lusaka, I said yes even withoutknowing whom we were going to dine with. The typical snub in me, when I wasintroduced to my friend’s friends I just said hello, didn’t even bother toshake hands with them. I had a hard-time choosing the food because that timewhatever different from chicken and chips was good enough for me. While havingdinner, the discussion started with my beloved Chipata, then analysis of the situation of Zambia,which really caught my interest so even if I did not know them, I got so muchengaged in the conversation. This he told me later, impressed him. Afterwards, there was exchange of phone numbersand e-mail address which to my surprise I easily gave out. The first meetingended.

The following night, I got invite for another dinner so thatmy desire to have Chinese food would be satisfied but we ended up in a Koreanresto which was not bad at all. I was off to be back to my province the nextday but decided to move it for another day. The evening that followed, I gotinvite again but this time, I refused. He made an excuse; he went to my friend’shouse. It was just a casual evening of chatting, comparing music in our iPod.When he reached home, I got a call which I willingly acknowledged. Then early morning the next day which was my schedule to travel back to my province, I receivedagain a call with the usual Filipino goodbye lines in our conversation. Duringthe 6-hour trip, I cannot remember how many calls I got until I reached mybeloved province.

That evening, I received countless calls again. I willinglyspent time talking on phone and even endured the tiny screen of my nokia formobile chatting using e-buddy. This has become a routine every evening whichreally surprised me because I look forward to those calls and chats. Thisblossomed into something more than just casual conversations. I was hooked!

He is a guy who has the characteristics of a Filipino whomyou would fall in love with. He is caring, loving, thoughtful and plus, plusother things. There was too much passion at the beginning, no missed calls, nounanswered sms, no sleep without talking on phone. Slowly, I discovered whatirritates him and what triggers his anger. He has some attitude I could notstand. Fights started, missed calls, unanswered sms and calls became lesser andshorter. We discussed this and things were settled as always. I was always pulled back.

I went to Viet Nam, the relationship continued and the same passionwas there during the first few months, then slowly it lessened to a large extent.There were so many broken promises, or plans which did not materialize. My lifebecame miserable, my health, my work was affected. I was crying almost everynight. There was even a time when I was almost hit by a motorbike because I wascrossing the street absent-mindedly. Slowly, I came to my senses. I gave up. Igave up after learning my lessons the hard way. I slowly moved on. I managed to push for a short time.

Victoria Falls

Then January this year, the day before I was to go back toViet Nam from my holidays, he called up and wanted to meet up. I agreed. Ithought I was meeting him to close whatever needs to be closed but then wedecided to continue it. Again, I was pulled back. But the situation was the same until I got this posthere. I promised myself to start a new life, new environment and new work. Butthen, it never happened. Yes, it was a new work, a new living environment butthe way I am living my life is the same. We are still together. Despite all thepains, hurt, disappointment and frustrations, I am always pulled back no matterhow hard I push. Two years since, there is no doubt that he loves me and so do I but I amasking myself, is he worth the pain I’ve gone through? Seriously, does he really deserve me?

Merienda-Get-Together

2011-10-11T13:35:00.001+09:00

Last Sunday, 9^th ofOctober 2011, the Philippine Embassy gathered Filipinos in Timor Leste for a ‘merienda’get-together. The invite was plain and simple, a gathering of Filipinos so I haveset my mind that there is really nothing to expect when it comes to formaldiscussions or the like.

I admit, out of curiosity, Iconfirmed attendance to the event and also as a way of supporting our embassyfor the effort to organize such activity. I remembered I posted once in mywall, asking friends on FB what the role of an embassy really is, in a country.I got mixed answers; a number of them mentioned hosting parties which is a rareevent in Timor Leste. Whatever the reason, why such events are rare, I have noidea. Then there was this opportunityover the weekend to gather Filipinos. So, I did not hesitate to join.

The ‘merienda’ get together waswhat I was expecting because I did not pre-empt my mind from expectingsomething. While people are chatting, others were observing, two Filipinos wereplaying music on the background. Seats were not enough but I guess that was theprimary purpose of it, for people to move around, meet-and-greet. Food was inabundance, they may not be 100% native ‘pinoy foods’ (because of the brownies,cake) but they were all palatable to Filipino tongue.

Like what I have mentioned, I wasnot expecting any program or formal announcements but I couldn’thelp myself from sharing my observations. First, the same people which aretypical of Filipino culture flocked around each other. If one belongs to onegroup, the same people stick to each other until the end. Second, most if notall, the Filipinos around were occupying mid-managerial and managerialpositions in different organizations, private companies and government agencies(as advisors/consultants) in Timor Leste. Nowhere to be seen are those whom we referred to as ‘kababayanna nakipagsapalaran’ (compatriots who are taking chances) in Timor Leste. Thoseordinary citizens who tried their luck in Timor Leste, those you never know ifthey have legal documents or not, those who may be documented or not. Theseare the people, to copy the term of my organization, the most deprived, excludedand vulnerable Filipinos, the sector who should be reached out by our ‘kababayans’, and the embassy. I am not pointing fingers or blaming anybody because if you wouldknow the different life stories of Filipinos in Timor Leste, all you couldutter is...’OMG, what a shame or OMG, what a pity”. Nonetheless, I was not happy because they were not around.

On another note, there were negativecomments I heard as well about the way ‘merienda get-together’ was organized,why there was no proper program, why there were no announcements, etc., etc; again,typical of Filipino character which likes looking at the negative side ratherthan finding good out of something. Personally, I have come to terms withrealities. An embassy is not just an office; it is composed of people with differentpersonalities and way of doing things. I had a very nice experience with thePhilippines Embassy in Bangladesh to the envy of other VSO volunteers, but the sameexperience was never replicated in other countries I have worked and lived. Inthe same manner that I have to keep a mindset that situations vary underdifferent circumstances, the less you expect, the less frustration you wouldhave.

In the end, the effort was stillworth recognizing. It may be old cliché but it still holds true, you cannotplease everybody and I am glad I did not attempt to take Foreign Service evenwith the prodding and encouragement of my ‘lolo Vic’ who was an ambassadorduring Marcos’ time.

An incomplete guide to Filipino food terms

2011-09-07T09:55:00.000+09:00

To those who have tried at least one or two Filipino dishes, read this to learn more!

An incomplete guide to Filipino food terms

Mission

2011-09-06T17:12:00.000+09:00

I was never born rich or too poor without anything to eatbut I had my share of making ends meet in order to reach the life I have alwaysdreamt of. I was just lucky enough because I am an only child, I don’t have tosupport anyone in the family except my parents. I don’t know if this is amission given to me by God because even without anyone depending on me, thereare some other people who depends on me for support, in cash or in kind. I amnot complaining but I am just amazed how fate turns and twist, whetherofficially assigned or not, God really has His own way of doing things.

Today, I was disappointed but thankful at the same time.Over the weekend my mom sent me a message about the condition of her sister whois an old maid; I would say she is my second mom. She looked after me when I wasstill a child. Mama was then busy working.

Mana, we fondly call her is not liked by many, especiallythe younger cousins, nieces and nephews and even some older ones. She has thehabit of disciplining and she is really noisy literally, nagging on anything whichshe doesn’t like seeing or observing from our big bunch of family. But she isgood in looking after us. She never complained about it. I guess she is happytaking care of us, all different generation of my family from babysitting,cooking, washing clothes, house-sitting, cleaning, etc. the list could go on and on. Whether she haschosen to be single forever, I have no idea because I have never heard her oreven mama telling us if she is happy or not about her status but I guess shegets her strength from all of us.

Like mana’s brothers and sisters, hypertension is a killerdisease in the family. It runs in our blood. Mana was not spared. A couple oftimes her blood pressure shoots up, fortunately, she was cured and so life wasback to normal. She has been going to a medical practitioner, a mid-wife, not adoctor. She believes that whatever prescription this midwife is giving is good becauseher hypertension is treated. Not that I doubt the ability of this midwife butthere are certain limitations in her capacity and a doctor’s. Mana is sostubborn to consult a proper doctor but this is one of her characters, so beit. Over the weekend the family was alarmed. The noisy mana has been quiet andalways sleepy. Today, she was taken to the hospital and the doctor said it wasdue to blood clot that her brain functioning is affected. This the reason forher quiet demeanor and drowsiness. Good enough she was taken to the hospitalearly, otherwise, it would have been too late and she would go back to senilityat her age. Now, she has to maintain a couple of medicines which enormously costa lot.

Going back to my question if this is my mission, I am justwondering how God put things together. I have a good job to keep mama and mana.There are two people now I have to spend money for medical maintenance. A bigchunk of my salary would go to them, for the maintenance of their health. It’spayback time, I am thankful that God has blessed me with a job to support them.I am just praying that God will continue to bless me with wisdom and goodhealth that would enable me to perform my job.

To all my cousins, nephews and nieces, whatever you havealways keep in mind to share. In one way or another, mana has touched yourlife. Believe me, God will reward you a hundredfold.

Hibernating

2011-09-05T16:41:00.001+09:00

It's been almost a month now since my last post. I'm sure it's not about nothing to share or talk about. On a positive note, it might be because I have adjusted pretty quickly to my new living environment that includes friends, foods, places, etc. Nonetheless, everyday is a discovery and a promise that I would be catching up soon. Life has indeed been good these past few weeks except the stress I am having caused by my returned boxes to Ha Noi, Viet Nam. It's another story not really worth sharing but might give lessons to those travelers and movers like me.

For now, I'll park my fingers from ticking the keyboard as this is just an excuse to divert my attention away from serious stuff and making myself coffee. According to a friend on FB, I only have to take water as a cold therapy, no coffee or tea. Not a very good therapy considering how addicted I am to coffee.

Now, I have to go back to work.

The story of Jingle continues...

2011-08-18T12:23:00.000+09:00

Jingle went to MOFA yesterday together with their admin staff to submit all the requirements for her work visa application. The staff rejected the visa application form because it was not in A3, booklet format and the passport needed certification that it was authentic. They left and proceeded to the photocopying center and Jingle went to her embassy. Before leaving the MOFA Building, Jingle told her colleague, 'I hope, the same person would be around tomorrow when we go back; otherwise, rules may change".

The next day, Jingle and her colleague went back to MOFA to submit the requirements. Fortunately, Jingle's neighbor is from her embassy so she managed to get the authentication of her passport in one day which normally takes 2 days. Reaching MOFA, they found another guy. The person who attended to them yesterday was not around. This new 'man in the block' reviewed all the work visa requirements compiled in one folder, who rejected the application form on the grounds that it was downloaded from the internet! Her colleague then, asked to have the form that they require. While filling-in the form, Jingle noticed that it was exactly the same. Looking for logical and sensible answer, Jingle asked but did not get any answer. The staff from MOFA pretended not to hear. For fear that the documents might be marked PLEASE REJECT VISA APPLICATION (although this is the worst scenario), Jingle kept quiet. Only to find out later that the difference between the two is on the first page. Downloadable form has no stamp while the form from MOFA has a red stamp that reads: FOR SALE, 50 CENTS!

Does it make any sense? yes! downloadable is free and the one they have is for sale and they get money out of it without any receipt. In short, subtle way of corruption. Whew!

Jingle and Rudolf...an interesting story

2011-08-16T22:05:00.013+09:00

Here is how the story goes about Jingle and Rudolf. They are among those several expatriates in TL who are working in the development sector to contribute to the so-called ‘making a difference in the lives of Timorese’. Like most organizations in this country, expatriates enter TL on a tourist visa and arrange work visa/permits while in country. Common practice and also allowed by the immigration, tourist visa can be extended for 2 months while the work permit is being sorted out.

In preparation for arranging work visa, Jingle and Rudolf started gathering the documents required by the immigration; one of these is the medical certificate from a public hospital. To get this, one has to undergo laboratory tests and chest x-ray. Jingle and Rudolf sorted this out without the help of the admin staff from their organization, which ideally should not be the case. Since both of them are new-comers, a staff from their organization should have accompanied them. Nonetheless, both of them went to the hospital on their own. Rudolf is confident because he can speak one of the languages which are commonly spoken in this country. Jingle on the other hand, only knows English, so she left the transaction to Rudolf and she was just waiting for feedback from him. After filling-in the hospital form and submitting the required documents, Rudolf asked the guy at the receiving area called Mr. Blue (in blue hospital uniform) how much they need to pay for the medical procedures. He was given the price of USD100 each, which makes USD200 for the two of them. Short in cash, Jingle and Rudolf asked the driver to collect money from the office so that both of them could pay. After a few minutes, the driver returned with the cash and Rudolf gave it to Mr. Blue. Then, Rudolf told Jingle that they can already leave. Jingle was surprised of the speed of transaction, so she asked Rudolf why it was so fast and also reminded him of the official receipt since it would be liquidated at the office. Rudolf told Jingle that receipt will be collected the next day when both of them have to come back for the laboratory tests and chest x-ray.

The next day, Rudolf and Jingle went back to the hospital. Instead of being taken to the laboratory, they were ushered to a small conference room where Mr. Blue signed the medical certificate written in local language, and issued the official receipt for the payment. With a wide grin on Rudolf’s face, they left the hospital. Out of earshot, Rudolf explained to Jingle that they don’t need to undergo all the tests and the medical certificate was already issued. Jingle was speechless, Rudolf did all the transactions and in good faith, Jingle trusted him.

On the way back to the office, Jingle was still speechless, she felt guilty for being an accomplice to corruption. They paid four times the real amount for the price of a medical certificate without going through all the tests. Jingle was put in the middle of choosing between doing good and thinking of the embarrassment Rudolf would face if she didn’t leave him to transact with Mr. Blue. In the mind of Jingle, it was really wrong but to emancipate her from guilt, Jingle said to her friends as she was narrating the story, ‘was she the only person who did it? Or were there other more and probably many times did it for the same purpose?’ It’s a question which is difficult to answer. It was also difficult to judge Rudolf for being trapped in that situation. But this gives us, development workers here to think and ask, is capacity development and assistance really helping this country and more specifically, is it worth our effort? It could be yes or no, but in the end there are innocent people, the most deprived and vulnerable that needs us most, not those who are in the mighty confines of the huge public offices in the city and roaming around in their ‘kareta estado’.

Moving On...

2011-08-16T20:57:00.003+09:00

One of the most difficult things to do in life is moving on from the past, past life, past relationships, past situations, etc. Admittedly, I am one of those who really takes time to move on from any past events, it takes me long to move on from a failed relationship, living in a place which I have grown to love but I have to leave, things with sentimental value which I cannot just let go and so many other things.

I am following Paulo Coelho's blog and this is one of his posts which I like so much because it is grounded on reality and something which not only me has experienced in life but true to most human beings I know. I want to keep this in my blog that's why I am re-posting it here. It touched my life like no other article did.

http://paulocoelhoblog.com/2010/12/31/closing-cycles-eng-espa-port/

Closing cycles

Published on December 31, 2010 in Guerrero de la Luz. 1,189 Comments

Illustration by Ken Crane
(a version of this article circulates in internet having me as its author. In fact, I did not write it, but I made a few corrections and decided to republish it here)
_________________________
ESPANOL AQUI: CERRANDO CIRCULOS
PORTUGUES AQUI: ENCERRANDO CICLOS
__________________________

One always has to know when a stage comes to an end. If we insist on staying longer than the necessary time, we lose the happiness and the meaning of the other stages we have to go through.
Closing cycles, shutting doors, ending chapters – whatever name we give it, what matters is to leave in the past the moments of life that have finished.

Did you lose your job? Has a loving relationship come to an end? Did you leave your parents’ house? Gone to live abroad? Has a long-lasting friendship ended all of a sudden? You can spend a long time wondering why this has happened.

You can tell yourself you won’t take another step until you find out why certain things that were so important and so solid in your life have turned into dust, just like that. But such an attitude will be awfully stressing for everyone involved: your parents, your husband or wife, your friends, your children, your sister.
Everyone is finishing chapters, turning over new leaves, getting on with life, and they will all feel bad seeing you at a standstill.

Things pass, and the best we can do is to let them really go away.

That is why it is so important (however painful it may be!) to destroy souvenirs, move, give lots of things away to orphanages, sell or donate the books you have at home.

Everything in this visible world is a manifestation of the invisible world, of what is going on in our hearts – and getting rid of certain memories also means making some room for other memories to take their place.
Let things go. Release them. Detach yourself from them.

Nobody plays this life with marked cards, so sometimes we win and sometimes we lose. Do not expect anything in return, do not expect your efforts to be appreciated, your genius to be discovered, your love to be understood.

Stop turning on your emotional television to watch the same program over and over again, the one that shows how much you suffered from a certain loss: that is only poisoning you, nothing else.

Nothing is more dangerous than not accepting love relationships that are broken off, work that is promised but there is no starting date, decisions that are always put off waiting for the “ideal moment.”

Before a new chapter is begun, the old one has to be finished: tell yourself that what has passed will never come back.
Remember that there was a time when you could live without that thing or that person – nothing is irreplaceable, a habit is not a need.
This may sound so obvious, it may even be difficult, but it is very important.

Closing cycles. Not because of pride, incapacity or arrogance, but simply because that no longer fits your life.

Shut the door, change the record, clean the house, shake off the dust.

Stop being who you were, and change into who you are

My Cab Adventure

2011-08-12T11:06:00.006+09:00

So far, in all the countries I have lived and worked, I was always privileged to be taken and dropped from office to work. Taking cabs was only during personal trips to the supermarket or dining out or occasional visits to bars. Though on some occasions, I still have the privilege to be driven by friends except in VietNam where hailing a taxi was not difficult (apart from the reason that this was not part of the benefits from my giant organization), but hold on I was not spared from an interesting cab experience there.

The shopaholic in me motivated me to visit ‘Leader’, the biggest supermarket in town where you can find most items for individual's basic needs. The main reason for going there was to buy a water dispenser which I will be using for cooking because I don’t like the smell of the water coming from the tap. Also, to buy mop and broom to complete the stuff I basically need in the house I moved in 3 weeks ago.

Picking up from my very limited Tetun, I told the car driver where I will be going and the fare. We agreed on the price of 3USD to my place. Mid-way to my place, the cab driver asked how much I would be paying. I mentioned the amount agreed then, he reduced the accelerator as if stopping in the middle of the road and telling me, USD5. Instinct told me that he might harass and drop me off right there and so I told him that he just continues driving and I’ll pay him the amount he was demanding but behind my head, I knew that there would be people in our compound when I reach my place.

As I was getting off, the land-owner of my house who is a Timorese approached us while I was busy unloading my shopping bags, of course the driver did not help me. I took this opportunity and told the land-owner the demanded fare of the cab driver. I left the two of them arguing and I can figure out that because I cannot speak Tetun and I am a ‘Malay’, the driver was over-charging. Initially, the driver was insistent that he should be paid US$5 but the landowner also insisted maximum of US$3. I don’t want to put the landlord into trouble because of me. I told the taxi driver that I am willing to pay US$5 dollars but I will get his cab number. While I was writing the taxi number, he grabbed the US$3 from the landlord and drove away!

This experience is an addition to the list of my not-so-good-cab experience. Should I be taking public transport, buy a car?, because for some strange reasons I always have nightamarish experience with cabs wherever I live or, it’s just because I am a foreigner in their land and seeing me as a stupid bideshi, mzungu, người nước ngoài, malay who cannot speak their language would be a good victim of harassment and instant robbery. This is one of the things you have to bear when working away from home, maybe to be more specific, in the these typesof countries where I carry out my mission.

Speech delivered by J.K. Rowling at the Annual Meeting of Harvard Alumni Association

2011-08-03T21:59:00.007+09:00

This is re-posted from http://harvardmagazine.com/2008/06/the-fringe-benefits-failure-the-importance-imagination. A speech delivered by the author of the famous Harry Potter film. It's very moving and inspiring. Ate Azl is blessed with good writing skills that's why she is fond of browsing the net for similar articles. I would like to thank her for finding this and sharing it on facebook.

J.K. ROWLING, author of the best-selling Harry Potter book series, delivers her Commencement Address, “The Fringe Benefits of Failure, and the Importance of Imagination,” at the Annual Meeting of the Harvard Alumni Association.

Text as delivered follows.

Copyright of JK Rowling, June 2008

President Faust, members of the Harvard Corporation and the Board of Overseers, members of the faculty, proud parents, and, above all, graduates.

The first thing I would like to say is ‘thank you.’ Not only has Harvard given me an extraordinary honour, but the weeks of fear and nausea I have endured at the thought of giving this commencement address have made me lose weight. A win-win situation! Now all I have to do is take deep breaths, squint at the red banners and convince myself that I am at the world’s largest Gryffindor reunion.

Delivering a commencement address is a great responsibility; or so I thought until I cast my mind back to my own graduation. The commencement speaker that day was the distinguished British philosopher Baroness Mary Warnock. Reflecting on her speech has helped me enormously in writing this one, because it turns out that I can’t remember a single word she said. This liberating discovery enables me to proceed without any fear that I might inadvertently influence you to abandon promising careers in business, the law or politics for the giddy delights of becoming a gay wizard.

You see? If all you remember in years to come is the ‘gay wizard’ joke, I’ve come out ahead of Baroness Mary Warnock. Achievable goals: the first step to self improvement.

Actually, I have wracked my mind and heart for what I ought to say to you today. I have asked myself what I wish I had known at my own graduation, and what important lessons I have learned in the 21 years that have expired between that day and this.

I have come up with two answers. On this wonderful day when we are gathered together to celebrate your academic success, I have decided to talk to you about the benefits of failure. And as you stand on the threshold of what is sometimes called ‘real life’, I want to extol the crucial importance of imagination.

These may seem quixotic or paradoxical choices, but please bear with me.

Looking back at the 21-year-old that I was at graduation, is a slightly uncomfortable experience for the 42-year-old that she has become. Half my lifetime ago, I was striking an uneasy balance between the ambition I had for myself, and what those closest to me expected of me.

I was convinced that the only thing I wanted to do, ever, was to write novels. However, my parents, both of whom came from impoverished backgrounds and neither of whom had been to college, took the view that my overactive imagination was an amusing personal quirk that would never pay a mortgage, or secure a pension. I know that the irony strikes with the force of a cartoon anvil, now.

So they hoped that I would take a vocational degree; I wanted to study English Literature. A compromise was reached that in retrospect satisfied nobody, and I went up to study Modern Languages. Hardly had my parents’ car rounded the corner at the end of the road than I ditched German and scuttled off down the Classics corridor.

I cannot remember telling my parents that I was studying Classics; they might well have found out for the first time on graduation day. Of all the subjects on this planet, I think they would have been hard put to name one less useful than Greek mythology when it came to securing the keys to an executive bathroom.

I would like to make it clear, in parenthesis, that I do not blame my parents for their point of view. There is an expiry date on blaming your parents for steering you in the wrong direction; the moment you are old enough to take the wheel, responsibility lies with you. What is more, I cannot criticise my parents for hoping that I would never experience poverty. They had been poor themselves, and I have since been poor, and I quite agree with them that it is not an ennobling experience. Poverty entails fear, and stress, and sometimes depression; it means a thousand petty humiliations and hardships. Climbing out of poverty by your own efforts, that is indeed something on which to pride yourself, but poverty itself is romanticised only by fools.

What I feared most for myself at your age was not poverty, but failure.

At your age, in spite of a distinct lack of motivation at university, where I had spent far too long in the coffee bar writing stories, and far too little time at lectures, I had a knack for passing examinations, and that, for years, had been the measure of success in my life and that of my peers.

I am not dull enough to suppose that because you are young, gifted and well-educated, you have never known hardship or heartbreak. Talent and intelligence never yet inoculated anyone against the caprice of the Fates, and I do not for a moment suppose that everyone here has enjoyed an existence of unruffled privilege and contentment.

However, the fact that you are graduating from Harvard suggests that you are not very well-acquainted with failure. You might be driven by a fear of failure quite as much as a desire for success. Indeed, your conception of failure might not be too far from the average person’s idea of success, so high have you already flown.

Ultimately, we all have to decide for ourselves what constitutes failure, but the world is quite eager to give you a set of criteria if you let it. So I think it fair to say that by any conventional measure, a mere seven years after my graduation day, I had failed on an epic scale. An exceptionally short-lived marriage had imploded, and I was jobless, a lone parent, and as poor as it is possible to be in modern Britain, without being homeless. The fears that my parents had had for me, and that I had had for myself, had both come to pass, and by every usual standard, I was the biggest failure I knew.

Now, I am not going to stand here and tell you that failure is fun. That period of my life was a dark one, and I had no idea that there was going to be what the press has since represented as a kind of fairy tale resolution. I had no idea then how far the tunnel extended, and for a long time, any light at the end of it was a hope rather than a reality.

So why do I talk about the benefits of failure? Simply because failure meant a stripping away of the inessential. I stopped pretending to myself that I was anything other than what I was, and began to direct all my energy into finishing the only work that mattered to me. Had I really succeeded at anything else, I might never have found the determination to succeed in the one arena I believed I truly belonged. I was set free, because my greatest fear had been realised, and I was still alive, and I still had a daughter whom I adored, and I had an old typewriter and a big idea. And so rock bottom became the solid foundation on which I rebuilt my life.

You might never fail on the scale I did, but some failure in life is inevitable. It is impossible to live without failing at something, unless you live so cautiously that you might as well not have lived at all – in which case, you fail by default.

Failure gave me an inner security that I had never attained by passing examinations. Failure taught me things about myself that I could have learned no other way. I discovered that I had a strong will, and more discipline than I had suspected; I also found out that I had friends whose value was truly above the price of rubies.

The knowledge that you have emerged wiser and stronger from setbacks means that you are, ever after, secure in your ability to survive. You will never truly know yourself, or the strength of your relationships, until both have been tested by adversity. Such knowledge is a true gift, for all that it is painfully won, and it has been worth more than any qualification I ever earned.

So given a Time Turner, I would tell my 21-year-old self that personal happiness lies in knowing that life is not a check-list of acquisition or achievement. Your qualifications, your CV, are not your life, though you will meet many people of my age and older who confuse the two. Life is difficult, and complicated, and beyond anyone’s total control, and the humility to know that will enable you to survive its vicissitudes.

Now you might think that I chose my second theme, the importance of imagination, because of the part it played in rebuilding my life, but that is not wholly so. Though I personally will defend the value of bedtime stories to my last gasp, I have learned to value imagination in a much broader sense. Imagination is not only the uniquely human capacity to envision that which is not, and therefore the fount of all invention and innovation. In its arguably most transformative and revelatory capacity, it is the power that enables us to empathise with humans whose experiences we have never shared.

One of the greatest formative experiences of my life preceded Harry Potter, though it informed much of what I subsequently wrote in those books. This revelation came in the form of one of my earliest day jobs. Though I was sloping off to write stories during my lunch hours, I paid the rent in my early 20s by working at the African research department at Amnesty International’s headquarters in London.

There in my little office I read hastily scribbled letters smuggled out of totalitarian regimes by men and women who were risking imprisonment to inform the outside world of what was happening to them. I saw photographs of those who had disappeared without trace, sent to Amnesty by their desperate families and friends. I read the testimony of torture victims and saw pictures of their injuries. I opened handwritten, eye-witness accounts of summary trials and executions, of kidnappings and rapes.

Many of my co-workers were ex-political prisoners, people who had been displaced from their homes, or fled into exile, because they had the temerity to speak against their governments. Visitors to our offices included those who had come to give information, or to try and find out what had happened to those they had left behind.

I shall never forget the African torture victim, a young man no older than I was at the time, who had become mentally ill after all he had endured in his homeland. He trembled uncontrollably as he spoke into a video camera about the brutality inflicted upon him. He was a foot taller than I was, and seemed as fragile as a child. I was given the job of escorting him back to the Underground Station afterwards, and this man whose life had been shattered by cruelty took my hand with exquisite courtesy, and wished me future happiness.

And as long as I live I shall remember walking along an empty corridor and suddenly hearing, from behind a closed door, a scream of pain and horror such as I have never heard since. The door opened, and the researcher poked out her head and told me to run and make a hot drink for the young man sitting with her. She had just had to give him the news that in retaliation for his own outspokenness against his country’s regime, his mother had been seized and executed.

Every day of my working week in my early 20s I was reminded how incredibly fortunate I was, to live in a country with a democratically elected government, where legal representation and a public trial were the rights of everyone.

Every day, I saw more evidence about the evils humankind will inflict on their fellow humans, to gain or maintain power. I began to have nightmares, literal nightmares, about some of the things I saw, heard, and read.

And yet I also learned more about human goodness at Amnesty International than I had ever known before.

Amnesty mobilises thousands of people who have never been tortured or imprisoned for their beliefs to act on behalf of those who have. The power of human empathy, leading to collective action, saves lives, and frees prisoners. Ordinary people, whose personal well-being and security are assured, join together in huge numbers to save people they do not know, and will never meet. My small participation in that process was one of the most humbling and inspiring experiences of my life.

Unlike any other creature on this planet, humans can learn and understand, without having experienced. They can think themselves into other people’s places.

Of course, this is a power, like my brand of fictional magic, that is morally neutral. One might use such an ability to manipulate, or control, just as much as to understand or sympathise.

And many prefer not to exercise their imaginations at all. They choose to remain comfortably within the bounds of their own experience, never troubling to wonder how it would feel to have been born other than they are. They can refuse to hear screams or to peer inside cages; they can close their minds and hearts to any suffering that does not touch them personally; they can refuse to know.

I might be tempted to envy people who can live that way, except that I do not think they have any fewer nightmares than I do. Choosing to live in narrow spaces leads to a form of mental agoraphobia, and that brings its own terrors. I think the wilfully unimaginative see more monsters. They are often more afraid.

What is more, those who choose not to empathise enable real monsters. For without ever committing an act of outright evil ourselves, we collude with it, through our own apathy.

One of the many things I learned at the end of that Classics corridor down which I ventured at the age of 18, in search of something I could not then define, was this, written by the Greek author Plutarch: What we achieve inwardly will change outer reality.

That is an astonishing statement and yet proven a thousand times every day of our lives. It expresses, in part, our inescapable connection with the outside world, the fact that we touch other people’s lives simply by existing.

But how much more are you, Harvard graduates of 2008, likely to touch other people’s lives? Your intelligence, your capacity for hard work, the education you have earned and received, give you unique status, and unique responsibilities. Even your nationality sets you apart. The great majority of you belong to the world’s only remaining superpower. The way you vote, the way you live, the way you protest, the pressure you bring to bear on your government, has an impact way beyond your borders. That is your privilege, and your burden.

If you choose to use your status and influence to raise your voice on behalf of those who have no voice; if you choose to identify not only with the powerful, but with the powerless; if you retain the ability to imagine yourself into the lives of those who do not have your advantages, then it will not only be your proud families who celebrate your existence, but thousands and millions of people whose reality you have helped change. We do not need magic to change the world, we carry all the power we need inside ourselves already: we have the power to imagine better.

I am nearly finished. I have one last hope for you, which is something that I already had at 21. The friends with whom I sat on graduation day have been my friends for life. They are my children’s godparents, the people to whom I’ve been able to turn in times of trouble, people who have been kind enough not to sue me when I took their names for Death Eaters. At our graduation we were bound by enormous affection, by our shared experience of a time that could never come again, and, of course, by the knowledge that we held certain photographic evidence that would be exceptionally valuable if any of us ran for Prime Minister.

So today, I wish you nothing better than similar friendships. And tomorrow, I hope that even if you remember not a single word of mine, you remember those of Seneca, another of those old Romans I met when I fled down the Classics corridor, in retreat from career ladders, in search of ancient wisdom:

As is a tale, so is life: not how long it is, but how good it is, is what matters.

I wish you all very good lives. Thank you very much.

One month and still counting...

2011-08-02T22:10:00.006+09:00

Thirty days ago, I set my foot at Nicolao Lobato International Airport to start a new life and face new challenges in Dili, Timor Leste. Moving from one country I realized is never easy but this is the nature of my work, the road less taken but I did. Looking back, let me just recount the good things that happened since I arrived in Dili.

With the help of a friend, way back Bangladesh time, establishing friendship was not difficult. In a week’s time, I made friends who are really new to me because I have never met anybody from these countries. One of them is from Peru, another one from Indonesia, a lady from Germany and the rest are Filipinos. They have a group called Casa Quinta Girls who are doing different work in development organizations. Each has its own expertise when it comes to development work. This support group made adjustment easier.

In a month’s time, I managed to find a place. A house which may not be the best to my standards but it is, for Timorese standards. It is located in a compound of four houses which are occupied by Filipinos as well. It feels more homey when you reach home just knowing that in your neighborhood are people you can rely on. Moreover, they are all from my region back in the Philippines. It’s a 15-minute drive from the city center but the comfort of the house is more important to me than being in the center. It limits mobility but there are always ways to make things possible. Just to add, one good thing though in Dili is the willingness of those who have cars to give you a lift whenever you are out with them.

Work shows real challenge as I have to start from zero as regards to M&E. There is no system in place though monitoring in an informal manner is carried out. However, with the complexities of the projects, it really keeps my brain working as I think of ways to satisfy the needs of the staff without disregarding the ideal from real, what is workable and not. Things have been slow but I always remind myself about the nature of the country and the character of the people with regards to capacity. It’s not easy but I have to. Slowly though I have started my work at a slower pace.

This is just the beginning but now I am less 1 month from the 24 months I would be here. Not that I am counting but it keeps me moving while keeping in mind the reason why I am here.

Slow pace...try to understand...indeed a good excuse for not taking quick action

2011-07-19T15:42:00.007+09:00

I have given myself 4 weeks to be patient about the pace of everything in my new place. I don't want to rant because I keep reminding myself of what my mom always tells me whenever I am in a new place, met people for the first time or we have a new member to the family, 'first impressions last'...this may not originally be mom's quote but she always remind me of this.

Four weeks of finding a house which would really keep up to my satisfaction but I failed. Asking colleagues, friends of new friends and some Filipinos. Deciding to settle for less as I have been spending enormous amount of money on food from eating outside and having running stomach all the time, I will soon be moving to a house which I would initially occupy for 6 months hoping that by the end of the contract, I would find a house I really like. The move to the new house was delayed for a week because of the late processing of initial payments.

The first thing to be done supposedly when you join an organization is to get oriented about your work and your organization, but 4 weeks have passed both have not been done. Giving the benefit of the doubt that people are busy, which I observed for the last two weeks due to pressing project proposals but I guess, 4 weeks is too much. I have read all the documents for self-learning but all these are for information purposes because I have no idea what to do with all these information.

Since I came in, I was using my laptop computer which is fine for me because I thought it would last for only a week or two, but 4 weeks have passed, I am still using my personal laptop. I have given specifications of my computer requirements because I need to develop database. Indeed they gave me one but very old one, MS Office 2003 and celeron processor. Another delay and up to this time, I am clueless if I would indeed get a new one or not.

I have been in development work for quite a significant number of years and I noticed that slow pace of work has always been an excuse for undone or delayed things. I would like to believe so but I always ask myself, would I accept such excuse? I hate pushing people but no matter how much I tried to control myself, I couldn't.

Development work is challenging but unless people who are helped to be developed won't have the commitment to do so, capacity building is another waste of money and resources. Development Workers may show example of how things should be done but unless the people who are helped in the change process are not willing to help themselves, nothing will happen.

Welcome Ceremony

2011-07-14T20:46:00.005+09:00

After late information the night before that I’ll be joining the field visit, we set off early to Liquica, which is 45 kilometers from the capital of Dili. Initially, I thought the visit would only be in an ECCD center which my organization was helping but I found out later that we were going to another place for the inauguration of 2 houses built through KOICA as part of their program on reconciliation. Two families whose members were separated during the ‘crises’ were provided with housing assistance as well as to locate missing family members.

When we arrived at the site, a group of elders composed of men and women welcomed us with the traditional ‘tais’. After putting tais to the guests, there was a traditional singing and dancing as we were ushered to our seats.

As we were seated there was also an offering of beetle nut, beetle leaves and lime with tobacco which is to be chewed as part of the welcome ceremony. I tried to avoid this ceremony by pretending to take photos and joined the crowd. This was followed by another singing performed by the elders with some chantings in the local language. Then, there was the ribbon-cutting ceremony that was done by the Ambassador of Korea to Timor Leste assisted by the CEO of ChildFund Korea and Regional Director of ChidlFund International. Speeches from guests ensued and followed by lunch.

The lunch offered to us was very humbling as you can see in the pictures. This is one of the things I miss in community work, something that draws me back to the basics of development work. It was very humbling to be with these people who were so delighted with the help they receive from my organization. It was a great way of learning a cultural practice in this country. I’m sure there will be more to know.

Lospalos

2011-07-14T00:14:00.008+09:00

My first weekend in Dili was spent in the field accompanying staff from our affiliate office in Korea which was also an orientation for me. The place was the end of the island on the west side called Lospalos. It was an adrenaline-rushing trip as the roads were not only winding but also ravines where literally you would end up in the ocean. Nonetheless, the view was really breathtaking along the winding in and out of the sights of oceans and hills.

Random stories of war, culture and development issues were told. However, I would be narrating them in separate posts, otherwise there would be too much information here and reading would be boring.

Lospalos is a sub-district of Lautem district which according to locals has been a heavy concentration during the ‘crises’. People here speak a local dialect and Portuguese more than Tetum. After seeing Dili, you wouldn’t expect so much from a District when it comes to facilities. We stayed in a hotel called Roberto Carlos which was the best in town. The hotel was owned by Portuguese-Timorese couple. There were a number of Malays (foreigners) staying in the hotel. Outstanding was a UN Police who probably thought he owns the hotel with his noise either from the music player that was eardrum breaking and his boisterous voice. Though, I was not surprised as UNPol from UNMIT has a ‘not-so-good’ reputation in Timor and even among Malays.

Lospalos has very basic facilities with a line of shops numbered 1-9 which sell all sorts of stuff. Across the line of shops is Timor Telecom which I noticed has a significant presence in all sub-districts. To see the town, we went to the market to buy fruits and mosquito repellant. Among the fruits, only bananas were available which decreased my appetite as these are found on a concrete floor in the market which is 12 inches away from a stagnant canal.

As we were leaving the market, the Koreans were attracted by a group of people across the street. Apparently, there is a cock-fight and other gambling activities where you see people from all ages. Noticeably, no women were around. Older men were busy with the cock-fight while kids were glued on a game which involved a giant dice. I did not bother to check it, hence I couldn’t explain what sort of game they were really playing. One thing I realized though, this gambling must be an influence of Portugal as similar activities can be seen in the Philippines which was an influence of the Spaniards.

Day 1 in Timor

2011-06-28T10:23:00.004+09:00

The first sms I received on my phone the next day was a reminder from my mom, 'find a church there and attend mass, it's your first day in Timor'. Even without the reminder, I already made a plan to go to church. My boss picked me from the hotel and we went together for prayers.

The 'English mass' was at 10:30, and I only realized now, I did not even bother to find out the name of the church. Anyways, the church was a mix of foreigners including police from the UNMIT which I found a bit surprising because they even received communion. Like any other countries, there were so many Filipinos in the church, although it was a bit tricky to know because of the same features, colors and built of Timorese and Filipinos.

After church, we went to the 'pinoy carenderia' where 'dinuguan' was available but the container was almost empty when we arrived, so I was not able to have a serving. Nonetheless, the 'nilagang baboy' and 'halo-halo' were already a treat for me. I learned that this carenderia which is open from 11Am to 2PM was a converging place for Filipinos who wanted to eat pinoy foods after church.

In the afternoon, Fi (a colleague way back Bangladesh-time) picked me from the hotel and we went to a Vietnamese restaurant by the sea and introduced me to her circle of friends. I am really grateful to Fi for helping me settle in and introducing me to her friends. One of them is a Filipino, the other one is from Peru while the rest I still have to meet. All of them are in different sectors of development work which makes it all the more interesting. From the vietnamese restaurant, we went to the 5-star hotel in Dili for cake and coffee.

We checked 2 houses which are potential for renting, and finished the day in a Chinese restaurant for dinner.

First Glimpse of Timor Leste...

2011-06-28T10:16:00.005+09:00

After a relaxing transit evening in Bali, I started the last leg of my journey to Timor Leste at 8 o’clock in the morning. Looking forward to setting foot in Dili, the excitement faded off when the flight that was originally scheduled at 10:15 was able to leave two hours later. Through informal chats with other passengers, this situation was not a surprising one, it’s normal according to them and this is even better than 3-5 hours delay which occasionally happen.

After the long wait, Merpati finally took off. Being in Singapore Airlines for the first two leg of my journey, I would like to justify my complain, Merpati aircraft was below the standards i.e. my seat fall back the moment the aircraft was 45 degrees up, in-flight magazine dated April 2011, although it is still a bit better than other cheap airlines.

The flight took 1 hour and 40 minutes which was the first time I ever felt nervous of all the flights I had as it descent seemed to be only few meters away from the ocean. The ‘international airport’ was along the coastline which made me figure out why the ocean was only few feet away as it prepares for landing. Compared to other international airports, Nicolao Lobato International Airport was very basic; you won’t see any tube but the typical stairs where you have to walk through the runaway in order to reach the arrival area. The baggage conveyor was probably just 10 meters long and limited trolley. I got visa upon arrival without any question from the officer however, the immigration officer asked about the purpose of my trip which I said a visit to a friend and when I answered 30 days when asked how long, he said, it’s a long visit nonetheless he stamped it with the number of days I specified.

All passengers were crowding around the conveyor, while I struggled to find a trolley but eventually resorted to waiting for free ones which were retrieved outside. I patiently waited for my huge suitcase and started to felt nervous when I couldn’t find it only to discover after a few minutes that porters have put aside in one corner the suitcases which were already in the conveyor but not picked yet. As I queued at customs in the line ‘nothing to declare’, the officer requested me to move to the opposite line. I asked the officer what I should do next, then another guy asked me to open my bag. Good enough, the first bag I started to open was my hand-carried suitcase with my UNDP business card as the bag tag. When the officer saw the bag tag, he told me, so you work with the UN which I did not hesitate to say yes knowing that it would make a lot of difference which really did as the immigration officer told me, no need to open, you can go. Now, I would really be missing the perks of being with the UN system.

The smiling ChildFund Logisitcs Officer and my boss who is a Filipina were there after a long wait. I was relieved to have finally arrived in Timor! One striking observation was the several UN cars moving on the road, and a helicopter at the airport.

Dili reminds me of Chipata, so many unpaved roads, box-type buildings although there were also new structures which were mostly government offices. Litters are a common sight, stray pigs (which made me worried as this sight might affect my appetite for pigs), small shops, and other basic infrastructures. However, this is of minor concern to me as I have no problem with laid-back and slow-paced city. The first question I uttered, what would my life be in Timor for 2 years?

From the airport, I checked in at Hotel Audias which I have no idea in terms of its ‘star-rating’ but it is fine although I am hoping that I would get a house soon.

New Post with ChildFund Timor Leste

2011-06-28T10:07:00.002+09:00

After 13 months of my ‘stint’ in Viet Nam, I decided to take on another challenge. Working with children was my first job after university. Now, the same road leads me back to where I started. Spending quite some time pondering upon the job offer, I finally accepted a job offer in Timor Leste and this is the plot of another chapter of this road less traveled. My new employer is ChildFund Timor Leste.

ChildFund International is inspired and driven by the potential that is inherent in all children; the potential not only to survive but to thrive, to become leaders who bring positive change for those around them.

The heart of ChildFund International remains the one-to-one connection made through child sponsorship. Our work began in 1938 with an effort to build orphanages for the children who had been left without homes or families in the wake of the second Sino-Japanese War.

These orphanages were funded by individuals in America who "sponsored" an orphaned child in China. This approach continues today.

What began as a modest effort to build and operate orphanages, has evolved into a global force working for children encompassing the globe. Our area of excellence and great strength is our deep understanding of children's experiences of deprivation, exclusion and vulnerability, and our dedication to placing those experiences at the center of our policy and practice.

We work in 31 countries, assisting approximately 15.2 million children and their family members, regardless of race, creed or gender. Our distinctive approach focuses on working with children throughout their journey from birth to young adulthood, as well as with families, local organizations and communities globally to create the environments children need to thrive. --- http://www.childfund.org/about_us/

Another Road Less Traveled --- TIMOR LESTE

2011-06-28T09:58:00.002+09:00

According to wikipedia, TIMOR LESTE is....

Democratic Republic of Timor-Leste, commonly known as East Timor (ⁱ /ˌiːst ˈtiːmɔr/) (Tetum: Timór Loro-sa'e), is a state in Southeast Asia. It comprises the eastern half of the island of Timor, the nearby islands of Atauro and Jaco, and Oecusse, an exclave on the northwestern side of the island, within Indonesian West Timor. The small country of 15,410 km²^[5] (5,400 sq mi) is located about 640 km (400 mi) northwest of Darwin, Australia.

East Timor was colonized by Portugal in the 16th century, and was known as Portuguese Timor until Portugal's decolonization of the country. In late 1975, East Timor declared its independence, but later that year was invaded and occupied by Indonesia and was declared Indonesia's 27th province the following year. In 1999, following the United Nations-sponsored act of self-determination, Indonesia relinquished control of the territory and East Timor became the first new sovereign state of the 21st century on May 20, 2002. East Timor is one of only two predominantly Roman Catholic countries in Asia, the other being the Philippines.

East Timor is a lower-middle-income economy.^[6] It continues to suffer the aftereffects of a decades-long independence struggle against Indonesia, which damaged infrastructure and displaced thousands of civilians. It is placed 120th by Human Development Index (HDI).

For more information, check out the official website of Timor Leste:

http://www.gov.east-timor.org/AboutTimorleste/timorleste.htm

Goodbye Viet Nam

2011-06-28T09:41:00.003+09:00

Thirteen months after setting foot in the lands of Viet Nam through Ha Noi, I was at the airport on my way back to the Philippines before I take on a new assignment. My stay in Viet Nam was an interesting one I would say, interesting both in the positive and negative sense of the word.

I was impressed by the intact culture of Viet Nam slowly being infused with the modernization of the world around. It is full of history and the very impressive one was the battle with the Americans which they have won and this pride is still evident in every Vietnamese which is understandable because it really made a mark in the history of the world. However, the pain of the war is still fresh which makes it difficult for some to move on.

This is the 3rd country I have lived, as in a home to me for a significant period of time. It was here that I had so much difficulty as regards to adjusting. Moving from a country with smiling and warm people, the adjustment made it very challenging for me. I would describe it as a survival of the fittest. I wouldn't regard language as a barrier because I have lived in a country where communication was also a real challenge; however, what made it difficult to interact with people in Ha Noi was difficult to describe.

Working was interesting because of the unique political system. I don't want to elaborate on this, knowing how Viet Nam protects so much its political affairs. Coming from Philippines where freedom abounds and sometimes subjected to abuse, being in the midst of this form of government was another challenge.

In general, I have learned a lot of things during my short stay in Viet Nam, I knew in my heart that I would visit it again one day, this time I hope to explore other parts of Viet Nam given the limitation of my holidays when I was working.

Definitely, Viet Nam would occupy a big chapter in the history of my life. Tam biet....

Filipino Band

2011-04-22T00:38:00.005+09:00

Hanging around with fellow Filipino volunteers is one of the things that keep me occupied in Ha Noi. It always feels good to be with people who can relate to you and whom you can relate to when it comes to life and living as development worker in another country. One evening, after dinner, we thought of spending more time with each other but wondering what else to do apart from chatting. In Ha Noi, we've heard of this 17 Cowboys with Filipino band performing live in this bar. So, without any plan we decided to give it a try. Indeed it was a Filipino band playing and I would say because of these Filipino singers, the place has become a popular hang-out for expats, well, not all but at least those who like live music.

That evening started it all. We introduced ourselves to the members of the band, a normal thing to do whenever you meet Filipinos. After that one weekend, the visit to 17 cowboys became a regular weekend trip. The drinks are expensive but it was worth the joy we get from listening to Filipinos singing live, especially that I am able to request my favorite waka-waka by Shakira. We have become regular customers that whenever we arrive, Girlie would greet us on stage. Her famous, welcome to 'ates' Aydel, Nancy, Bec, 'kuyas' Allan and Rex. Also, we get free beers courtesy of Shaira and Girlie. They are entitled to 2 drinks per night; however, we still end up taking more than the free drinks.

The band called Sound Check Band was performing in Padi's Point- Baguio back in the Philippines. Their members are: Jonjon (drummer), Louie (guitarist), Gabbie (bass guitarist), _Dennis (keyboard), Jerheel, Shaira and Girlie (vocalists).

Knowing the life of the members of the band, well, not at all but at least how they are living as band members in Ha Noi is a humbling experience. I won't be elaborating it here but when you meet people like them, it always reminds me to be thankful for all the blessings I have and not to complain about life. The two girls expressed to us their joy in meeting and knowing us. Through us, they were able to move around Ha Noi and see the major tourist areas in Ha Noi. For a day, we served as their tourist guide. According to them, they met some Filipinos but not like us who were so warm and welcoming to them. For 5 months, they didn't have the chance to move around the city except to buy personal stuff in a mall near their apartment. Once, the two girls spent the night in my small house just to relax, enjoy and listen to their life stories. Each of them has their own story to tell but one thing is clear, no matter the distance, they were in Ha Noi to give a good life to their loved ones back home.

I was happy that somehow in a short period of time, because we only met them just a month before they left as their contract has ended, I was able to contribute to their joy and worthwhile stay in Viet Nam.

(Photo: Left: Shaira, Girlie, Me and Allan; Right: Rex, Nancy and Bec)

Eat, Pray and Love....

2011-04-01T01:02:00.004+09:00

Eat, Pray and Love...Eat is what I am always doing because there's nothing much to keep myself busy in this city during my free time. Pray....I wanted to do this. Do it somewhere quiet where I can reflect and find myself again with more clear directions and what I really wanted out of my life. After 2 years of development work overseas and another 6 months in this country, I realized that I feel drained. Maybe there are some other reasons but reality sinks in, I wanted a month-long holidays to re-charge, re-energize myself and probably to catch-up with so many things back home. In short, I feel lost. Love, after series of complicated relationships, i'll deal with it when i have found myself again.

Siem Reap Temples

2011-02-12T23:06:00.014+09:00

The trip to Siem Reap was 6 hours from Phnom Penh. Starting off at 8.30 in the morning, we were at Siem Reap at 2pm, to be exact at the hotel called Siem Reap Temple Villa. The hotel was quite new and some of the lighting fixtures were not even installed yet but it was nice considering that I only stay there to sleep and take shower because most of the time I was out. I just stayed though in the hotel the rest of our travel day, contacting ‘tuk-tuk’ that would take us around and bargaining on which are the best places to see. The rate per person was $10 regardless of the number of sights to see as long as it is 8 hours.

I was impressed by how tourism was organized in Siem Reap. The tuk-tuk drivers take you first to the ticketing office to buy a pass to all the temples. One day tour costs $20 per person while if you are visiting the temples for two days, it’s better to buy the $40 ticket because the 3rd day is free, meaning the $40 ticket is good for 3 days. After buying our tickets, off we went to visiting the temples. Our first stop was Bayon Temples, which was part of Angkor Thom. A place which was less known as a banner destination in Siem Reap yet it was the one which really impressed me. I was particularly impressed by the carved stone faces. For more information of the history of Bayon temples, click on this link: http://www.sacred-destinations.com/cambodia/angkor-thom-bayon-temple. The visit to Angkor Thom was followed by Ta Keo. Ta Keo Temple was small but I would say it was the most challenging as I have to climb a very steep and narrow stones stairs. Before climbing up, I have to condition myself that I can manage the climb. After resting for a while and looking up the flight of stairs, I decided to conquer my fear and climbed up the narrow and steep stone stairs (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ta_Keo). Then we proceeded to Ta Phrom, the unique features of Ta Phrom which was an evidence of its being century-old were the roots and vines of massive trees covering some of the temples (http://www.cambodia-travel.com/angkor/taphrom.htm). We also visited small temples like Pra Khan and Sras Srang which are parallel to each other (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Srah_Srang).

Angkor Wat was scheduled as the last destination of the day because of sunset. Cambodia is known for Angkor Wat. But little did I know that you’ll find so many temples in Siem Reap. What was impressive with Angkor Wat was its unique location. Built around and surrounded by lake. Its huge compound also makes it unique among other temples in Siem Reap. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Angkor_Wat).

The second day was again another visit to two temples begging the tuktuk driver not to take us to more temples anymore. It took us only half day to Bantay Srei (http://www.sacred-destinations.com/cambodia/angkor-banteay-srei) and Preah Khan. Like what my traveller-friend told me, never visit more than 3 temples a day, otherwise you’ll get temple-fatigue. True enough, because I got tired from having to see many temples.

Lunch was in a Khmer Restaurant wherein I tried another Cambodian Dish called ‘majoo kroeung’, a sour soup with curry, morning glory and choice of chicken, fish or pork. It was worth-trying and I am even planning to try cooking it when I go home because there is enough supply of coconut milk in the Philippines. Afterwards, I tried the central market to check some souvenirs. I planned not to buy anything except to add to my collection of plates with the Angkor Wat picture. I also bought throw pillow cases for my house in the Philippines. The day was capped by a Khmer massage, something which I needed to pamper myself of.

Generally, it was a good and relaxed trip. Although I never expected that Angkor Wat would have so many tourists, indeed many because they all came in organized tours by buses.

1st Night in Phnom Penh, Cambodia

2011-02-12T16:11:00.007+09:00

It was a shame to have missed Tet (Lunar New Year) celebration in Ha Noi but 7 days holiday was so tempting that earlier on I made a plan to see the famous Angkor Wat in Cambodia. From my home leave I proceeded to my Cambodia trip and just waited for my friends in Saigon so that we can all proceed to Cambodia.

The bus ride from HCM City to Phnom Penh was not bad at all. It cost me US$11 for a one-way fare. The bus ride lasted for 6 hours but the trip itself was 5 hours however border formalities took an hour. Based on my observation, the border between Viet Nam and Cambodia was very organized compared to other land borders I have ever been or passed through.

We rested for a while and decided to have dinner in a restaurant by the riverside of Mekong. It was a restaurant called “Titanic” which most probably been named after the movie of Leonardo di Caprio. My first time to taste ‘amok’ which is a choice of fish, meat or vegetables covered with ‘kroeung’ and coconut milk. Kroeung is a Cambodian spice, which according to Wikipedia: From India, by way of Java, Cambodians have been taught the art of blending spices into a paste using many ingredients like cardamom, star anise, cloves, cinnamon, nutmeg, ginger and turmeric. Other native ingredients like lemongrass, galangal, garlic, shallots, cilantro, and kaffir lime leaves are added to this mix to make a distinctive and complex spice blend called "kroeung." This is an important aromatic paste commonly used in Cambodian cooking.[2] For somebody who is used to dishes with coconut milk, the food tasted nothing special except for the different taste from the spices. Anyhow, I enjoyed the dish.

At titanic restaurant, there was also a cultural show of the famous “khmer dance” which was impressive in terms of how the women bend their hands in a gentle and graceful manner.

On our way back to my friend’s house, we passed by a travel agency to arrange our bus ride to Siem Reap and hotel accommodation. Lucky Internet and Travel (#277HEo St., Sisowath Quay, Sankat Phsar Kandal 1, Khan Duan Penh, Cambodia) was the agency we randomly chose while walking along the streets of the riverside. The riverside is a street full of travel agencies, hotels and restaurants of all sorts of food which is a hub of expats and tourists. I would say that we got a good deal from the travel agency. Pick-up from our hotel in PP and Siem Reap was a very welcome package of the tour. They also managed to book a $20 hotel for us in Siem Reap. Bus ticket to Siem Reap costs the same as the bus from Saigon to PP. The travel time was also the same, but this time it was 5 hours less the border formalities. I would recommend Mekong Express for the bus. It has a toilet inside the bus which was relatively clean, free snacks on board with a helpful attendant and the restaurant where the bus stopped for lunch was clean.

Looking Back...the Year Behind and Looking Forward...The Year Beyond

2011-02-05T18:30:00.002+09:00

Towards the end of 2009, while in Dar Es Salaam in Tanzania, I got an unexpected email having been told I volunteers are not eligible for fellowship. Surprisingly, I got confirmation about the short course I applied for including a full scholarship in the Netherlands. This started a good year ahead of me in 2010. This was just one of the blessings I received last year.

At the beginning of 2010, I got busy with the preparation for my trip to the Netherlands. Indeed, a good start because while I was attending the short course, I saw a job advertisement from MandENews, an on-line group of M&E practitioners I am subscribed to, for a UNV volunteer post in Viet Nam as M&E Officer. I was hesitant to apply having nine more months to complete as VSO volunteer with Caritas Chipata in Zambia. A place and work I have grown to love. However, I still decided to try my luck. After on-line test and interview, I got the post in Viet Nam. A major blessing for two reasons, first, I have long wanted to work in Viet Nam and second, a post which I have longed for a long time.

All these major blessings I received were shared with my manong. He has been with me in all these successes, supportive of what I have achieved although the setback of everything, I have to leave him in Zambia. With a good plan and everything about our relationship properly arranged and discussed, nothing seemed to matter but grab all the opportunities that have fallen into my path.

Middle of the year, I moved to Viet Nam keeping with me all the promises of how my relationship would continue. Full of expectations and idealism, I started living a life and working in Viet Nam. Never had I thought that it would be full of challenges. Adjustment was difficult, particularly my living environment, coming from Zambia where people were so friendly and warm. I have to navigate myself and find my bearing on my own both personally and professionally.

The first month was very good; the second month was still fine until the end of the year, my love life turned upside down. Coping up was difficult for me; I demanded more time and attention from my boyfriend which was something he couldn’t understand. Work-wise, I have to get into the system I was never used to. The work-pace, the depth of work, the people and the ladder I have to step into.

The neighborhood was not so friendly as I thought and I was used to, talking to people was difficult where language has become a barrier, navigating was hard, support system was out of reach, I came alone and I have to survive on my own. For so many times, I asked myself if I made the right choice of moving to Viet Nam.

Life became more difficult as months passed by, I sulked in my miseries. There was never a week when I didn’t cry no matter how hard I tried to console myself or think positively. However, I struggled to have a good disposition and positive outlook. It was a difficult fight but I managed to reconcile with my inner self and started to see the light, to be thankful of the blessings I had for 2010. God has given me the opportunities I have prayed for a long time in His time and this has made me think of the good things that happened to me.

Looking back, I would say that it was a good year for me, full of blessings which made me stronger and braver. Looking beyond, despite mum’s failing health condition at the beginning of the year; I still look forward to another wonderful year ahead of me.

An Introduction for 2011

2011-02-05T18:28:00.001+09:00

This is my first post for 2011 with a promise that I will be posting more in the following days, weeks and months to come...

International Development Work

2010-12-04T01:38:00.002+09:00

International Development Work takes us to many places and gives us the opportunity to meet a lot of people, from different countries and diverse culture. We build friendships and establish relationships. But at a certain point in time, we say goodbye, au revoir, paalam, tiza onana, tam viet...etc. etc. Though some maintains the friendship and relationship despite the distance while some last as long as we are together in the same country.

This reflection is a result of an email I got from a Brazilian friend I left in Zambia. She and her husband are still there but might be leaving soon. She was updating me about what is happening in Chipata, the small province in the Eastern part of Zambia where I used to live, and among her stories this line struck me...I think I will never get used to this rotation of friendship. Whenever we make good friends and get acquainted to the new environment, either they or we have to move." This is one of the realities of international development work, however, it makes the world smaller. What is important is how we keep the friendship...how we are inspired by the lessons we learned from that place and appreciate the experience we had.

To all of you my friends who have cherished the memories and have kept the friendship and relationship despite the distance, thanks! International development work made my world smaller.

Pictures of Kitchen Party...

2009-11-03T21:48:00.002+09:00

Photo 1: Bride presenting the cake to mother in-law to be...
Photo 2: Rosie handing over VSO volunteers' gift...
Photo 3: Groom's entourage
Photo 4: Bride's entourage

Kitchen Party

2009-11-03T21:38:00.002+09:00

Kitchen parties are meant for bride-to-be. It is similar to bridal shower, except that a kitchen party, as the name connotes gives out kitchen utensils as present for the party which the couple can use as they start living on their own. We don’t know the bride or the groom but we found ourselves attending a kitchen party one weekend together with the other volunteers. To make a long story short of how we ended attending the party---VSO has a new partner in Chipata and the executive director happened to know us all through the preparation meeting that is done prior to volunteers’ arrival in country. This is how the connection was established. The bride to be is her niece and she was the one in-charge of the kitchen party. Sincerely, I did not plan to come but out of curiosity I did. When we entered the venue of the kitchen party, all eyes were diverted on us although we wouldn’t know what they were thinking…but I could guess, at least one of them would be thinking…what are these Mzungus doing here?

The photos speak of what a kitchen party is. All presents from invited/uninvited guests have something to do with kitchen. Kitchen parties are done for the bride, and it is an all-ladies affair, including the local band. Both relatives and friends of the groom and bride were present, including families and parents. The ceremony starts with the emcee (usually a family member) announcing the bride’s and groom’s family background. After the preliminaries, the ceremony starts with the entourage of the bride with her at the end of the line, with the matron of honor assisting the bride. I call it assisting because the bride is covered with a chitenge (colorful fabric wrapped around as skirt) so that she won't see anybody when she enters the room. As she goes up the stage, the matron-of-honor slowly unfolds the chitenge cover. The bride moved like a robot in the sense that even when standing or sitting,or every move, the matron-of-honor has to assist or coach her. What puzzled me was the sad face of the bride, and unable to control my curiosity, I asked why the bride appeared to be unhappy only to find out that it is part of the ceremony. The bride was not supposed to smile as a sign of respect because the decision of getting married is a serious matter. Smiling or talking would appear disrespectful.

When the bride is settled on the stage, the groom enters with his entourage to formally present the bride to the public. As this was done, the groom has to say something to the bride. Despite the presence of the groom and the many guests, the bride has to keep her sullen face. After this part of the ceremony, the bride and groom walk together to the exit to send off the groom and his entourage. Then the bride walks back to the stage.

When the bride is back on the stage, she was assisted again to go down with the other assistants handing her cakes, to be given each to her mother and mother-in-law to be. While doing this, the mothers give pieces of advice about married life (so, I heard from people!). Then the bride is ushered back to the stage and the next ceremony starts which is the presentation of gifts. All the gifts are picked randomly and the presenter is called up onstage to hand over the present. But this does not end here, while presenting the gifts; the person has to give pieces of advice to the bride. Imagine if there are so many gifts? This would also mean long hour of presentation of gifts and pieces of advice. In addition, the gift presenter has to dance after handing-over the gift and since we just pitched in for our gifts, all of us Chipata-based volunteers went up stage and danced together as a group.

Because there were many gifts, a break was called for in the middle of it so that guests can eat. There was a long queue for food but as Mzungus, we were given the privilege to get our food without queuing. Not fair, but it felt good to be treated this way in some situations.

I enjoyed the experience. There was even a Zambian who asked if I am married, which I answered with a no and again a follow-up question was asked, if I have a boyfriend which I affirmed. And I was expecting that there will be a follow-up statement which indeed was true…she told me to get married and she will help organize my kitchen party. Nice try…but I may copy it if, not when my turn comes but probably modify it a bit. It was a good experience but I don’t think I would attend another one unless I know very well the bride.

2009-11-03T20:34:00.001+09:00

Who’d have thought this is how the pieces fit
You and I shouldn’t even try making sense of it
I forgot how we ever came this far
I believe we had reasons but I don’t know what they are
So blame it on my heart’ oh…LOVE INDEED MOVES IN MYSTERIOUS WAYS….

I would say that November started with a romantic note, I felt loved…so much loved and I want to share this to my friends as it radiates to my entire disposition in life. I promise, once again, to start updating my blog. As a start though, I will try to recall some events which I guess are important to share to other people.

My 1st Year

2009-10-16T19:44:00.005+09:00

This month marks my 1st year in Zambia. One of my volunteer-friends always tease me when i count my days in Zambia and this week she particularly told me that i am remaining with 12 months to complete my two-year placement or more? which i laughed off. Generally, it was a good one year of life and living in Zambia. The highs and lows, ups and downs, happy and sad times, fun and boring moments, a mixture of emotions. To make me feel much better, let me share the highlights of my stay in Zambia:

Home:
• I have made my house homey, with the wall decors of African wildlife and some trinkets, and most of all i was able to put a plant inside my house!
• Plants can now be found in the plant box by the window of my house and i water them everyday to maintain their growth
• I've got all the basic things in my house from the bedroom to the kitchen to the toilet

Work:
• Facilitated the Diocesan Strategic Plan which runs from 2010 to 2014 that was published in a very nice material. The presentation and training materials i shared already to friends involved in development work
• I finalized the strategic plan of Caritas Chipata which was also packaged nicely
• Trained people on M&E
• The M&E Manual of Caritas Chipata was finished. In fact, I have shared already the document to some Mzungu (Foreigner) friends who are also involved in development work and they were impressed with my work
• Community Managed Disaster Risk Reduction Project starts this month and i was instrumental in developing it
• RAISA small grant for HIV/AIDS mainstreaming
• Staffs have improved their report writing skills

Building Relationships:
• Maintains a good and harmonious relationship with fellow VSO vols
• Established friendship with Mzungus in Chipata and at the same time built contacts with regards to work
• New Zambian friends
• Close friends from the diocese both priests and nuns
• Colleagues know the real me
• a group of kids who always wait for me outside the office or just by the road where i pass through when going home. I call them my fans

Life and Living
• I have traveled to Malawi to see the lake and the great landscape of Dedza and been to some of the best places in Zambia like South Lunagwa National Park (2 times! as official safari tour and 2 work-related trips) and Lake Kariba in Siavonga---next stop: Victoria Falls here and crossing the border to Tanzania
• Expert in finding places to buy cheap stuff...gone were the days when i would always go to shoprite to buy everything no matter the price
• Navigated all the places for night life---the quiet and noisy ones, depending on what i want for a weekend night out
• took a bicycle taxi and knows how to get a ride without a hassle...or as always my ever reliable priest-friends who give me a lift when i need it
• Experienced the best and the worst of traveling by public transport

I don't want to rant on the negative things because i want to build on the positive things so that i would have another wonderful year in Zambia. I am full of love in Zambia but i don't know what it means...it's always complicated...

Is this Life I Wanted?

2009-09-08T00:02:00.001+09:00

It’s Sunday evening, the 6th of September, like a prisoner, I looked out the window to see the lights in a misty surrounding. My house is located on a hill which has a good view of some parts of Chipata and even enjoys the sunset from the porch. However, I missed all these opportunities primarily for two major reasons; the first is avoiding mosquitoes wherein once it gets dark I have to go indoors. The second is security. The VSO bulletin for the month of August advised volunteers to always lock the doors even when we are inside the house, not to leave windows open, keep valuables discreetly, etc. Chipata, which I have come to love, generally is a peaceful place but taking extra precautions is always better.

In this situation, sometimes, I ask myself, is this life I want? I am independent, living on my own, away from family problems which we are normally included even if we are not supposed to be part of it, just because it’s a Filipino culture. Weekends are normally the most challenging days of the week. This weekend probably is a particular one because normally, I would hang-out with Mzungus over a coffee or dinner but nothing of this sort happened. Saturday, I was quite busy doing domestic chores. I woke up late, soaked and washed personal stuff, watered plants and a bit of weeding, and cooking! I made maja blanca to take advantage of the left over coconut milk and baked chocolate cookies for the sake of trying it but both were well done. I was just indoors the whole day. In the evening, I watched the last 3 episodes of Grey’s Anatomy season 3 because I have to start season 4. I finished watching at midnight and this concluded my day.

Sunday, I went for prayers and I was late again! I have carried over here my record of being late every Sunday during masses. I tried my best to wake up early but 7:30 is really too much early for me, moreover on a Sunday. After mass, I skipped the usual drop-by at the Father’s House because all priests were not around. Visiting priests from the cathedral were celebrating the mass. Reaching home, I washed my bike, watered the plants and planted some chilis. I wanted to cut the chilis infront of the porch because I find it out of place. I am not a chili eater but I just want to continue the pleasure of watching the tiny red fruits. I was so immersed with the planting that I just removed seeds using bare hands only to realize later that my fingers were burning. Mama’s warning slipped off my mind: never cut chilis with bare hands! I struggled to do something about it but when I was transferring baking soda from plastic to a container, I read that it helps burns. So, I put some powder in water and soaked my hands. After a few minutes, the burning sensation was gone. It was really effective! I cooked a good dinner, tried my hand with pork steak which did not taste the way mama does it, and prepared some vegetables, Indian way! But I failed to make it taste the 1st time I tasted it cooked by a Pakistani, UK-grown volunteer. Something was missing in the taste. Nonetheless, I enjoyed eating both. I took a nap, finished the book “The Winner Stands Alone” and dyed my hair.

Now, it’s evening, I am in front of my computer, trying to put into writing my weekend so that interested people would have a glimpse of a weekend in the life of a volunteer. I don’t want to sulk into depression, but sometimes, it reaches a point when you ask yourself, is this life I wanted?

Luncehon Party....Dinner Dance

2009-08-13T18:37:00.001+09:00

All these theme-parties were strange to me. Back home we hold such parties in the real sense of the word, just partying. However, in Zambia these theme-parties seemed to be regular events for fund-raising. August 8th, Saturday, I attended a luncheon party which a local nutrition NGO in Chipata sponsored to raise funds for their program on malnourished children. It was the 2nd one I attended; the first one was diocese-organized to raise funds for seminarians.

The diocese sponsored was well-organized however, I was not so keen in attending it but eventually decided to go, even the ticket costs ZK100,000 (US$20) which was quite an amount for a volunteer like me, primarily because it was a noble cause. It would be a shame not to heed to the invite with all the pampering I get from the diocese. However, we went there (with the company of a priest) much later. Going there late was a good strategy because the speeches were finished so I did not experience the agony of listening to them. However, I was not spared from dropping something in the hat during the “passing of the hat”. What surprised me actually was this part wherein “very important people” were called on the stage to pledge any amount and it was therefore embarrassing if your name was called and you don’t pledge anything. Fortunately, I was seated among a group of priests and it was evening so, I was spared from being called (or maybe I won’t be called anyways!). In the end, the diocese was able to raise a good amount of money which I think would go a long way in helping future priests in the diocese.

There was another invitation from fellow volunteers, another dinner dance party which the local Rotarians have organized but knowing how the event moves, I refused. Apart from this, I did not find it a noble cause although the ticket cost fifty percent cheaper than the Diocesan one.

The 3rd invite which was the 2nd event I attended was somehow different because it was lunch. Besides, the ticket was free from VSO because the organizing NGO sold tickets to them. I attended the luncheon party together with 3 other volunteers. According to the ‘master of ceremonies’, when the lunch party opened, there will be no long speeches because in the morning a press conference was held; however, the guest of honor will be making a speech and an officer from one of the ministers in charge of nutrition programme in the province. This was the highlight of this blog because the luncheon party although well-meant has full of embarrassment. The so-called MC who happened to receive us at the entrance, was proudly carrying a mineral water bottle with whiskey or rum, sipping it while waiting for people to arrive. So by the time the program started, he was drunk. There was even an instance wherein he was talking over the phone infront of the microphone so his conversation was broadcasted around the venue. His position was not also steady while doing his job as MC and from time to time he would falter. He called on “VIPs” to pledge and one of the volunteers was not spared. She went onstage and pledged on behalf of VSO volunteers in Chipata--- our time and skills that can be shared to the organizing NGO. Of course, we were all laughing but realistically, this is what we can afford.

True enough, there were only two people who gave speeches. The first speech went well. However, when it was the turn of the “guest of honor”, it was really embarrassing but later on I felt pity to her. As introduced, she is the wife of one of the provincial ministers in the Eastern Province who was representing the first lady of Zambia. The First Lady of Zambia was the guest of honor but she delegated due to another engagement. I have observed that this seem to be a trend in such social events, wherein the first lady was always indicated in the tickets as the guest of honor, probably to encourage attendance or maybe there are other reasons that I still have to discover. Going back to the speech of the guest of honor, I would say it was embarrassing because she was put on spotlight unprepared. She read the speech on behalf of the first lady but she had a hard time reading some words, faltering, shaking lips and some words were not even pronounced properly. During the first few minutes, people did not react; however, successive and consistent mispronunciation and faltering made the audience laugh. However, our group did not find it funny anymore but what we felt was sympathy to the lady because we thought that probably she did not rehearse or did not read the speech before coming to the event. Looking at the reaction of the audience, they looked dismayed and disappointed and until now I still feel sorry for the lady. I have no idea who was to blame for putting her in an embarrassing situation; however, it would have been better if she rehearsed, reviewed so that difficult words can be practiced. Also, delegating is not only about asking people to do it on behalf someone, there should be careful selection in terms of the capacity of the person.

In the end, it was another good cultural experience in Zambia and I found the event worth replicating for fund-raising.

Cory's Death

2009-08-02T19:03:00.001+09:00

Saturday morning, I got a call from my Director who was in Lusaka, which was quite early for a weekend. Apart from updating about work, he broke a very important news to me. He said that your former-president passed away today. Upon hearing it, i already guessed that it must be Cory Aquino. My initial reaction was shock of course, and after gathering my composure, i told my director proudly: She is a big loss to the Philippines and the Filipino people. She is the fist lady president of Asia and she symbolizes democracy for she restored our democracy. I paused for some time and uttered a prayer for Corry Aquino. Afterwards, i spent few minutes remembering twenty years back. I was supposed to take entrance examinations for Philippine Science High School in Metro Manila that year, but because of People Power my parents canceled the plan. I did not bother myself so much why, but then i realized later on that our democracy was threatened and a civil strife might break out any time. Being in the peak of my teen-age years, I did not bother so much about what happened in EDSA although in my young mind, i knew it was a very important event to the Filipino people. Filipinos were proud for toppling the current President, then Ferdinand Marcos through a non-violent protest. I knew that Filipinos were one and united in the street urging Marcos to leave the Malacanang.

Years after, i realized that it was the right thing to do after being under dictatorship, Philippines deserve better leaders and the Filipino people deserve freedom. I was one of the so-called Martial Law babies, being born during the years when Philippines was under Martial Law. Counting the years since birth and the EDSA People's Power, it was indeed a long period of dictatorship. If you will add the beginning of Marcos regime, it was a momentous event for the Filipino people to topple the dictator in Malacanang. I did not imagine that such eventful year would become very important in the history of Philippine democracy. President Corazon Aquino restored the Philippine democracy and it was during her time that Philippine NGOs flourished with the democratic space the new government has provided. NGOs played a vital role in development during Aquino's administration, it assisted in providing services to the people. Until now, NGOs play a crucial role in guarding the democracy of the Philippines which her successor-presidents tried and still trying to curtail and suppress. I am proud and still proud of that part of history.

People's support shows how her legacy made an impact to the lives of the Filipino people. Filipinos all over the world are mourning over her death and i am grateful to the technology because despite my distance, i am able to watch live Cory Aquino's wake. I am one and with the Filipinos in mourning over the death of Cory Aquino. You will be forever remembered for restoring back the Philippine democracy and for bringing gender concerns into being.

A Different Sunday

2009-07-27T18:40:00.002+09:00

I watched two ball games on Sunday. One was called "netball" which was similar to basketball except that there was no dribbling of the ball but just passing to the members of each team and shooting. It is timed, there is also a referee and they also change courts. However, much as I want to learn about the rules of the game, it was freezing cold so watching outdoors for a long time was not fun.

After the first game, I went to another ball game, which according to one on-line article I read, is like a religion in Zambia, soccer or football. It was a match between altar boys of two parishes in Chipata. In my stay in Zambia, I have learned so much about the rules of the game, although not fully but at least the basics. By the time I left, the parish team where I belong was losing, the running score was 2-nil. However, due to too much cold, I did not finish the match. Hopefully, in some other occasions I would get the chance and opportunity to watch football match up to finish. Maybe by the time I leave Zambia I would also be a great fan.

This capped the last weekend of July.

Saturday in the Life of a Volunteer

2009-07-27T18:30:00.002+09:00

The last weekend of July has passed productively. The garden of the seminarians at the Father’s House in Mchini Parish inspired me to start gardening in my own backyard. On Saturday I was busy preparing seedbed for my parsley. My plan actually was just to scatter the seeds on the seedbed and never transfer them into plots because I don’t have the powers to prepare them. Just preparing the seedbed made my lower back ache; however, it would be good to see vegetable herbs in my backyard. After the seedbed preparation, I also started potting soil in polyethylene bags because ornamental plants needed to be potted first before planting them directly to the soil. I tried planting directly but I failed because the soil was not fertile, moreover, termites are everywhere. Apart from this, my desire to plant ornamental plants was inspired by the roses I saw around Chipata, roses of all colors and types. I made a promise to myself that in two year’s time I would be able to fill the garden with roses. Luckily I am able to grow some; in fact some of them are already in full bloom.

On the same day, I made myself a good lunch. Experimenting on dishes has also become a hobby in Zambia. I have been craving for fish since it’s very seldom that I cook fish for meals because of the strong odor it emits when cooking which is not advisable to my enclosed kitchen (actually I can open windows and doors but I fear mosquitoes and burglars respectively). However, since it was a weekend, I grilled tilapia using my braiser a.k.a in the Philippines as "pugon" and makeshift griller from chicken wire. Since I was grilling, I also made “escalivada” as a pair to my grilled fish. Escalavida is another experimental dish courtesy of on-line recipe. It turned out well and I really enjoyed it. Of course, how can a Filipino meal be complete without rice? I fried the rice, eat it with escalivada and grilled tilapia with coke in can! I had a sumptuous Saturday lunch.

Cooking for the day was not yet over; I baked experimental bread---sweet potato bread. It tasted sweet potato but never looked like bread, it turned-out more like a cake. By the time I go back to the Philippines, I would probably be engaged in baking as a fallback career if I become unemployed for a long time which hopefully won’t happen since I want baking as a hobby although if it will bring me money I can make business out of it.

End of Saturday

Chama

2009-07-14T18:42:00.002+09:00

I delayed in posting this blog about my trip to Chama because I tried to research for information about the socio-demographic characteristics of the place but I failed to get any from government websites until I resorted to checking the free encyclopedia on line, Wikepedia.

According to Wikepedia, Chama is a small town in the Eastern Province of Zambia. It is one of the most remote headquarters in the country, lying just inside the eastern edge of the upper Luangwa Rift Valley, at the foot of the highlands dividing Zambia and Malawi. Chama District is the most northerly, largest and least-populated district of the Eastern Province and includes a large wilderness in the Upper Luangwa valley just north-east of the North Luangwa National Park. Much of the population of Chama District lives close to the Malawi border and shares tribal and cultural links with the people of the northern highlands of that country. The people of Chama belong mostly to the Senga tribe. Members of the Tumbuka tribe also live in Chama. Chisenga, a language similar to ChiTumbuka and Chichewa or Nyanja, is the predominant language spoken.

Agriculture is the leading industry, and maize is the most common crop. Chama is also known as a rice-growing area. Cotton is a lucrative crop for some. Sorghum and soya beans are also grown. Other common food crops include groundnuts, sweet potatoes, pumpkin, cabbage, sunflowers.
Wonderful description of Chama from Wikipedia! Information found in the said article was amazing because they were all accurate. They may sound very general but that’s the normal way I describe a place. I travelled almost 300 kilometers from Chipata through dirt road, wherein my clothes and the white land cruiser turned brown in color because of the cloud of dust.

Chama is where I get my rice, apart from being cheap, the quality is good with a nice aroma and with my rice cooker- the quality of cooking really turns appetizing. In Zambia, one thing I realized was there is no sense of time. In fact, very few people wear wrist watch which is a good rest for me since it’s very relaxing and distressful. However, I hate this culture when it’s time for eating. Filipinos love eating and delay feeding them will result to all sorts of negative reaction from people. But I have witnessed in Zambia or in the districts in Chipata that they don’t mind if they eat late as long as at the end of the activity there is food. On the same occasion, lunch was served at 3PM. I looked forward to eating boiled rice especially prepared for me. I took my first serving but the man beside me shared the rice with me and he took his second serving without using a serving spoon which discouraged me from taking my second-serving. Lesson learned?: the first time you get food, get more than enough serving that you can take, otherwise having such delayed lunch will end up in unsatisfied eating. Moreover, if you are embarking on another long journey, better make yourself full.

Another interesting activity I witnessed was a mobile commercial store as depicted in the photo. It was a closed van which contained so many products from mugs to iron sheets. As I waited for the rest of the staff to finish their lunch, I was looking at people buying tin cups, plates, cooking pots, iron sheets while the storekeepers are slowly getting them inside the truck. According to people, the truck comes once a month which gives ample time for people to save money and buy stuff. While I was busy enjoying the movements of people, a man approached me asking for money. Automatically, I refused saying that I don’t give away money. This is one common misimpression about foreigners; dollar sign is seen on our foreheads. If they only knew, I am also a volunteer who relied on allowance to survive in Zambia although humbling to say that it is like paid job according to local standards.
After saying all the goodbyes, we started back our journey to Lundazi to stay for the night before proceeding to Chipata the next day. It was a rewarding trip because I always get affirmation that I am glad to be a Filipino and I am happy that Philippines is my country.

Politics and politicians are the same everywhere

2009-07-14T18:35:00.002+09:00

I should say that politics and politicians are the same everywhere and who suffers most are the people that put them in their positions and the same people who are supposed to benefit from their service. On the other hand, people or the constituents are similar as well. The way people in Chama district reacted during the forum was not new to me because I have seen and observed the same reactions in the Philippines. Like what wise people say in the Philippines, “the movie was already shown” meaning they have witnessed the same event. However, despite this, I believe that the constituencies have all the rights to question the leaders they have put in their position because people have the right and deserve the best service they should get from their leaders.

What brought me to Chama was an activity of one of the programmes of Caritas Chipata under Governance. As M&E advisor, I am trying to move around to monitor the progress of implementation of activities in the different districts and parishes of the Eastern Province. The activity was dubbed “Sharing of Council Plans” wherein the District Council shared its plan to the people and in return they get the opportunity to ask what their council is doing. Too much protocol was observed during the activity. Courtesy calls were done to the Council Secretary and the District Commissioner. If my information serves me right. District Council is the counterpart of our “Sangguniang Bayan Chair” or the Vice-Mayor; however he was selected among the councilors of the district. District Commissioner on the other hand was the counterpart of “mayor” in the Philippines. The reception was good and very welcoming. The DC recognizes and appreciates what Caritas Chipata is doing in their district. However, for Caritas Chipata it has to assess whether it is creating impact to the grassroots community. Like all other local government units in the Philippines, the people were so eager to ask their leaders about what they are doing for their people or constituencies as they are called here. However, like politicians in the Philippines, when their ego is touched, they also react. The Council Secretary almost lost his temper when engaged in a debate for constructing a toilet called “ablution block” at the wrong place.

The opening remark of the DC was very long which affected the other scheduled activities. Like other TraPos, the speech contained his accomplishments but what struck me most was his remark on development, wherein he said, “your complains about heat in Chama district will turn into cash” because according to him, exploratory activities have been done wherein minerals have been found and soon investors will start mining their place and therefore, it would bring employment and revenue. It was sad to note that mining in Zambia is the answer to prosperity. I cannot refute because who am I to do it. If only they are educated about the harmful effects of mining. Simple logic: Copper mining has been in existence for so many years in Zambia but looking at the economic plight of the people and the country itself, did copper mining uplift the economy of Zambia and its people, the answer is obvious, otherwise development organizations won’t be around to help them in development which are mostly basic services.

What struck me was the constituency office in the district which is within the town centre ad within the proximity of the people. The constituency office is the counterpart of the District Representative’s Office in the Philippines. The Member of the Parliament (MP) who is the congressman/congresswoman in the Philippines has satellite office in the districts manned by two staff, administrative officer and assistant. Based on conversations with people, this is to bring the MP closer to the people and the task of the staff is to update regularly the MP about what is happening to the constituency. However, asked how effective it is and responsive to the needs of the constituents, I’ve got mixed reactions from people. Some positive and others were negative; however, as a point of reflection for me: in the Philippines, I have not seen visibly any office of the District Representatives that people elected. Their offices in the Philippines back in their districts are usually found at their residents which often manned by people who know nothing about bringing the leader closer to the people or manned by staff whose interests are the implementation of infrastructure projects.

Similarities between Filipino and Zambian Values

2009-06-06T22:42:00.003+09:00

I decided to write about Filipino values because of my interaction with people from diverse cultural background. Working in a different country, and with its people is challenging because of the differences in work habits and practices, attitude, values and beliefs. These in a way affect the process of sharing skills and changing lives. On the other hand, dealing with fellow volunteers is another challenge. The way we handle development issues in developing countries is different from the way developed countries and its people handles them. Sometimes I find it amusing and other times exhausting when people approach certain simple things differently. To cite a few examples, ways of cooking and preparing food, eating habits, maintaining cleanliness, washing the dishes, etc. can cause stress to a volunteer’s life especially if you are sharing a house with another volunteer who is a non-Filipino, although I am not saying that both Filipinos in one house have greater chances of agreeing.

To get to the main reason why I am writing this article is to look back to Filipino values that affect the way I handle and manage situations, be it work or interpersonal relationships. According to Fr. Vitaliano R. Gorospe, S.J., “the Filipino value system arises from our culture or way of life, our distinctive way of becoming human in this particular place and time”. I also liked his philosophy that values are both subjective and objective. They involve a subject or person who values and an object or value to be realized. As a Filipino, I have imbibed some values which I find difficult to ignore despite the cultural exchanges and interaction I had from my travels and living in other countries, and dealing with different nationalities. I guess this greatly affects the way I see things from my perspective in the country where I am and the people I deal with.

Family. The family is the basic unit of society. Family ties are valued highly because Filipinos tend to be very close with family members. The extended family set-up is the standard with Filipinos, which is why divorce is illegal in the Philippines.

From Zambian context, family ties are more valued than Filipinos do. Extended family means cousins and even in-laws of in-laws. Confusing? Yes, sometimes I asked colleagues and friends when they say my sister or my brother, real one or cousin. In Zambia, first cousins are regarded as sister or brother. You are even obliged to help financially. Another situation is extended families on in-laws. In laws can stay in the house of a married couple for any desired period. It is not only staying in the house but also feeding and even attending to other needs of the individual. If your wife’s parents are dead, lucky is the man because you will be responsible in taking care of the siblings of your wife.

Pakikisama. This is the ability to get along in a group, and to enjoy camaraderie and togetherness. One who understands pakikisama will yield to group opinion and sacrifice individual welfare for group welfare.

Zambian way of pakikisama is different from our context; however, camaraderie and togetherness are common. But yielding to group opinion and sacrifice individual welfare for group welfare is not practiced the way we do.

Shame or hiya is the Filipino way of living up to accepted standards of behavior.

One Sunday, a Filipino priest sent me a message telling me that he will be passing by my house to drop my pancit which he bought from Lusaka. Intrinsic to a Filipino, I offered breakfast or snacks which he accepted and specifying how many they were. I told him it’s no problem because everything is available. When they reached home, there were two of them foreigner-priests and three local lay people. I cooked pancit and rice and they have bread and oranges. After the main course, the 3 locals grabbed fruits from our fruit basket without even asking if they can have them. I was just trying to see it from the point of view of Filipinos, we don’t just grab anything on the table unless offered or permission is sought. I have observed the same behavior not only in my house but on several occasions in other places.

Utang na loob or “debt of gratitude”, is owed by one to a person who has helped him through some difficulties he had undergone.

I have no concrete experience on this but I would say that Zambians value so much the favor accorded to them however, I have no idea if returning the gratitude is also done.

Common Values. Being respectful is one of the most common Filipino values that is being especially instilled in the minds of young Filipinos. The use of “Po” and “opo”, for instance, is an expression of respect to elders in the Tagalog culture (especially true among those living in Luzon). Grandparents and the elderly are also shown a special gesture of respect by the placing of the back of the elder’s hand (at the fingers) against one’s forehead, called “mano”.

The Bishop got used to my show of respect to him through placing the back of my hands against his forehead. The first time, he was surprised but I explained that it is the way we greet our Bishop as a show of respect. I struggle so much in Zambia because I am not used to people showing disrespect. Please is rarely heard when somebody asks you something. They would just tell you “come, I want to show you something”. For Filipinos, we would ask in a diplomatic tone with the magic word please. Until now, I still have a hard time understanding it because my ears is irritated when there is no please whenever something is asked from you to do.

Most of the time, you will hear children calling their neighbors and distant relatives “auntie” and “uncle” or “tiyo” and “tiya” in the Visayan area.
This one I guess is universal because I hear them call people as auntie or uncle, “amay” and “abambo”.

Bahala na; which means, literally, leaving things to God. It indicates the Filipino’s fatalistic view of life, and is a way of coping with conflicts that can result from tight kinship within groups. By adopting this attitude, one lets the circumstance take care of itself.

I wouldn’t say that they practice this value but we are common in our strong faith in God. They are more traditional with their beliefs like carrying bible so they can refer to it during the readings, kneeling on the altar while receiving holy communion, many songs during mass, no skirts and shorts during mass, and vernacular mass is called high mass because everything is sung. I could say that their strong faith also indicates the fatalistic view of life letting circumstance take care of itself. Can I say that this commonality have put us in the same situation when it comes to poverty levels or economic condition of both countries?

Death. Death in the Philippines is one of the most important occasions in family life. It is a tradition to hold a wake where families, relatives, neighbors, and friends gather to pay respect to the deceased remains.

This value is shared by both Filipinos and Zambians. All means and ways are exhausted to pay respect to the deceased remains and be with the bereaved family. In Zambia, even distant relatives and relatives of in-laws and friends of in-laws are accorded the same respect whereas Filipinos follow the blood line unless your family is close with in-laws even before the relationship is established by marriage. This situation is very evident because almost every week there is funeral and when you ask why they are attending, sometimes I find it difficult to establish the relationship. On the other hand, it is good because of the show of support to the family but on one hand, it is not a good practice because even if you don’t have the resources to travel or contribute money, you have to exhaust all means. Moreover, work is disrupted because no matter how urgent the need is, at the office, the supervisor or boss has to allow a staff when informed of such event.

Suki the building of personal bonds between businesses and customers and loyal patronage.

I would say that my integration in this aspect is limited because I only go to one grocery shop and vegetable market. Although, I would say that personally, I have established loyalty to one stall in the Saturday market where I buy my vegetables every week. Very Filipino?!

When Filipinos move into a new house, for example, they believe it is not proper to live there unless it is blessed in the presence of friends who will wish them prosperity. There is a religious ritual, sometimes a shower of coins tossed for good luck, and then there is a feast.

I wonder why this is not practiced despite the religiosity of Zambians. I am the first occupant of my house and I learned that it has never been blessed. I have been requesting but since it is not commonly practiced, I was advised to ask the Bishop or the Vicar-General to bless my house. It’s not difficult to request them but imagine the hassle for them when it can be done by a priest.

Despidida which is given in honor of someone who is leaving for a long period of time.

Very much practiced by Zambians. It is a tradition for volunteers leaving or completing their placement to be accorded with despidida party by colleagues. This one I guess is universal.

Pabaon the Filipino custom of giving guests a parcel of food as a send-off gesture.

In communities, like during field visits, the guests end up going home carrying a lot of stuff from the community as send-off gifts. Most common are farm products like vegetables, fruits, chicken and even goats. I remember the days when I was a community organizer in the Philippines; seldom would I leave the community without carrying something from the farmers and it's the same here. However, the practice is unusual during parties. Common observations to some volunteers are Zambian's way of packing the food they were given to eat so they can take it home. In some cases, the first serving is packed and they get the second serving is the one for eating. Filipinos don’t do this. We wait until the hosts give us something during parties.

Pasalubong travelers (even to nearby towns) are expected to return with “greeting gifts” called for family and friends.

During my first travel by bus, I have observed during bus stops that passengers are also busy buying food stuff like bananas, dried fish, native products which I assume are greeting gifts to the family or household they will be visiting. Personally, I have no first-hand experience about such gesture.

Amor propio, which means self respect

I don’t know if the pride of Zambians about their positions, status in life has something to do with amor propio because they respect so much themselves that even conceding I find it impossible for them to do.

Tampo. In order to save face, Filipinos are not allowed to express anger or resentment, so their hostility can take the form of withdrawal of cheerfulness from someone who has displeased them.

Zambians are generally sensitive. They are not straightforward that dealing with them as I share skills and change lives is difficult. I cannot just make any comment or reprimand them or else they will withdraw or they would be hostile to me. Change is difficult for them to embrace because they have some work habits ingrained in them that even changing mind set is difficult. However, this value is very difficult to handle because it affects the way work is progressing. For someone like me who is used to working at fast-paced, I struggle so much in my organization because people take things slowly.

These values helped me re-visit my approaches in work because I know unconsciously; the Filipino blood in me makes me look at things in a different perspective. I have to remind myself that I am in another country working with different people with their own background and culture. This way, I would be able to handle and manage my work properly.

My 1st Bus Ride in Zambia

2009-06-06T22:27:00.002+09:00

There is always a first time so goes an old adage. After six months of being in placement or in-country, all the volunteers from our batch were called to Lusaka for a meeting referred to as call-back. A week-long activity including travel; however, it took me more than 7 days away from work to take advantage of the trip and my destination was Lake Kariba.

Volunteers who have been in Chipata advised us to take the first trip to Lusaka which is at 5:30 in the morning because it is the most reliable one. If you catch the 2nd or 3rd bus, chances are, you will end up being in Chipata bus station until noon. Our pre-arranged taxi came to pick myself and my housemate from our house. Colleagues advised us to take “Jordan bus”, so we tried to look for it only to find out that the bus is called “juldan”. Another recommended bus was called “max” only to find out that the name is “mark’s”. I don’t know if they have difficulty in pronouncing the letters or I probably have hearing problem. Juldan bus was impressive, double decker, spacious and nicely painted.

We stashed our bags (which were quite big considering the duration of our stay in Lusaka!) in the compartment while ensuring that bags would be safe underneath. Afterwards, the conductor asked for the fare even before getting inside the bus. The fare was ZK110,000.00 (Zambian Kwacha). We were able to find a nice seat on the top deck of the bus. We were seated observing people come and being bothered by barkers as they try to select the bus they probably like or forcefully convinced to get on a particular bus by the barkers who were so insistent. We even saw the conductor granting one passenger discounted fare with ZK20,000 change for a ZK100,000-bill. One learning in Zambia and even Malawi, people can haggle for fare. I wish bus companies in the Philippines are also the same. Here in Zambia and Malawi, if the bus stopped by a passenger on the road, negotiations for fare happen. If the passenger is not happy with the price of the conductor, then the bus leaves.
The 5:30 trip schedule became 6:30. Bus was delayed although I was surprised with myself because I was patient despite the long-wait. Maybe because of the entertainment I found while observing the people at the bus station. When the bus started off, I was relieved only to discover the worst because all passengers the driver see on the road, the bus would stop. I was counting and, it stopped every 10 minutes until finally the bus was full.

Midway to Lusaka is a famous rest area called Luangwa bridge, private or public vehicle stop at this place to pee, buy snacks or fish, native crafts or just simply to stretch. I also got off the bus to buy coke believing that I can manage without peeing until we reach Lusaka because from Chipata I didn’t take any liquid for this reason. While myself bought a bottle of coke, other passengers were buying fried and grilled fish. I thought they will take them to Lusaka like our famous tradition as “pasalubong”, only to see them eating the fried and grilled fish as snacks!

Culture shock, I don’t really know. For me, it just conveys something about culture. Zambians have their own way of doing things while we, as Filipinos have our own way of doing things. We may think that our practice is alright but we are not sure if they think otherwise about what we do.

Test of Patience

2009-05-15T20:34:00.005+09:00

Yesterday I was a bit off...i don't know if the hormones in me is working or i just ran out of patience. After almost two months of waiting for my e-bay purchased backpack, i was so excited to hop-in our office car that was also going to town so i can go to Zambia Post Office to collect my parcel...before i got off the car, i told the driver i won't take long and the other passenger who was also my colleague told me that she was not also going to take long...so we agreed i will wait outside the post office after i finish my business at the post office.

I met a Mzunugu friend working with a Germany (or German?) organization who has been requesting me to help their organization on M&E...flattering, my humble post in Caritas Chipata is gaining recognition even from other international organization...i pray that this will bear fruit when i finish this stint of mine on "sharing skills, changing lives". Anyways, i greeted my friend and afterwards proceeded to the parcel collection window.

It took sometime for the guy at the post office to find my parcel, approximately 15 minutes, which normally would be a maximum of 5 minutes if their store room is in order or if they did not misplace my parcel,to find it. After handing-over it to me, he was asking for ZmK5,000 (approx. PhP50.00) as handling fee. I asked why it was this much when the last time i collected a parcel of 12 x 12 box (courtesy of my sister in the US!), the post office staff only asked for ZmK500. He tried to explain while i was also trying to understand the rationale behind, is it the size of the parcel, the contents, etc....The post office clerk was not happy with my question and told me instead "you cannot understand because you don't work at the post office"! precisely the point why I was asking, because i don't understand his explanation. To avoid argument, i paid and told him to give me receipt. He denied issuance of receipt because he said they have their own way of record-keeping...is this a reasonable explanation?! not really but i left anyway to avoid scandal because i am the only Filipino in this province; hence, everyone in this small town might hear of the story...

I opened my parcel smiling because finally, i have a backpack that i could alternately use with the other one i have. I rang the driver telling him i was done. He replied that they were still busy. I tried to explain my state, and to pick me, drop me at the office and come back for my colleague who was still taking quotation until i finished my talk time (load sa pinas). I bought again talk time to call him and tried to give the same instructions but he was so stubborn that he doesn't want to do it. So, i called the other driver who was at the office asking if there is any other available transport. He said none and why would i be stranded when the driver is in town. I also narrated to him the instructions i have given to the other driver with an end line, "it's ok, i will just get a cab and discuss this with our Director". With this, he said i wait for a minute because he was going to talk to the Logistics Manager at the office who probably rang the stubborn driver because he in turn called to tell me that he was coming to pick me.

The discussion with my director that i planned to do was not a threat but apparently, they were alarmed when i told the other driver that it will complicate matters if this case would reach the attention of the Director. I didn't have prior intention to threaten them but i feel bad that this seemed to be the reaction. All i wanted to do was to give the driver an alternative means since i didn't want to waste my time waiting for them to finish their errand when i already finished mine. Besides, i wanted to go back to the office because i've got lots of things to do. Moreover, the driver was just sitting in the car waiting for my colleague who was collecting quotation.

What i can not understand with Zambians is how they were trained to work. There is no initiative, as if you have to turn the key and that's when they move. It's like a turn-key leadership that they are used to.They work based on instructions not their own initiative. When there is no urgent work, they relax, chat, move from one room to the other, etc. instead of looking for something to keep them busy at the office.

Sometimes, i think and ask myself, is sharing skills practical to these people???? are they really willing to change...sometimes, it's really frustrating...i don't know if this is cultural or behavioral or attitude problem....maybe those of you reading this have got answers to my question...

Information

2009-04-20T21:30:00.002+09:00

I promise to post this month. A lot of things have been happening but nothing extraordinary or interesting...but it would still be good to share my insights and what is happening about my life here.

Wait for new posts soon.

Concert

2009-03-22T19:36:00.001+09:00

As if not tired from the Nc’wala Ceremony, I managed to still move out in the evening to watch a live concert of Zakala Brothers, Angela Nyirenda and another performer but I can’t remember his name. They are popular performers in Zambia. For ZK20,000 or roughly PhP200.00 I was able to watch a live concert. I realized that in Zambia, concert is not so much commercialized since the songs were unlimited. They performed without counting how many songs or how many sets. The performers enjoyed entertaining the people. The audience was dancing to the music which was mostly upbeat. I would say that I enjoyed the concert so much; nothing fancy but the music and dance were enough to entertain the people. The concert was really a great fun. I was with five priests and two other volunteers. One of my friends back home said to me in one of his emails that I am a BI for priests in my diocese and in Chipata I am also the same. I deny it but I hang out with them because I feel comfortable with priests and easily get along well with them because I am used to their company even in the Philippines. And here in Zambia, I assume that they also enjoy hanging around with me. One of them jokingly told me that they would evaluate my performance based on how well and bad I have influenced the priests. I am glad and happy to be friends with them since I feel safer in their company and I am grateful to their friendship.

Another bonus I would say during the concert was the presence of the Paramount Chief. I would say I was also looking forward to seeing him up close out of curiosity since he is an honored personality in Zambia or specifically for the Eastern Province. With the assistance of a priest who escorted me to where he was seated in the open ground concert venue, I was able to see him. The Paramount Chief joined the audience in dancing. The audience was very happy with the participation of the Paramount Chief on the dance floor. People of all ages were on the dance floor. Generally, Zambians enjoy dancing so much. I once joked with one of the priests that Zambians before they were born are already gifted with dancing skills because even during pregnancy, their mother dances. No wonder you would see as young as one year old, babies already dancing whenever music is heard. I admire most the way Zambians shake their hips without moving other parts of the body. It is a trick that needs inborn skills and constant practice because I tried but I failed. I also admire men who dances gracefully sometimes much better than women. Life indeed of Zambians is full of happiness when dancing just like Filipinos when it comes to singing. Both Zambia and my country share the same sentiments that despite the difficulty in life and living, having fun is always there which I think keep people moving.

Nc'wala Ceremony

2009-03-22T19:32:00.002+09:00

Nc’wala Traditional Ceremony is the custodian of the Ngoni culture in Zambia, Malawi, Tanzania, Kenya, Rwanda, Mozambique, Zimbabwe and South Africa. Nc’wala Ceremony is celebrated during the last week of February every year. It was revived in 1980 to enable the Ngoni people: pay homage to their ancestral spirits, commemorate their victories during the tribal wars and praise the Lord for giving them fresh crops in the fields.

The 28th of February 2009, I was looking forward to the ceremony. I heard it is one of the tourist-drawing events in Chipata. Despite the late night out on the eve of the ceremony, I managed to wake up early and gear up for the event. I even convinced two priests to join me. We arrived at Mtenguleni Village at half past nine in the morning. The place was busy, which enable you to get the feel of the event. There was “tiangge” (in Philippine’s term) and a number of I/NGOs pitched tent for VCT and IEC. It was indeed an event that can be maximized for advocacy since there were many people that came to witness.

We reached the arena and tried to look for other people from the Diocese. On this occasion, I experienced once again the privilege of being attached to a church based organization. The Diocese got an invite to the event; hence, we were allocated with a comfortable viewing space. An usherette even led us to the tent for the Diocese. We sat and witnessed spectators come and go, performers practicing and showing off their traditional costumes. I also bought a headdress made of animal’s skin. After an hour of waiting for the ceremony to begin, heavy rains started pouring and a lot of people flocked to our tent, making it suffocating and warm. I have become restless because an hour was a long wait. But it was not the worst because the ceremony did not begin until 1 o’clock in the afternoon. Some of the people from the Diocese decided to leave even before it started because it was really a disappointing 4-hour waiting period. The main reasons being the most important people of the event came very late. They were the President and the Paramount Chief of the Ngoni tribe. It made me think why anywhere in the world, those occupying the highest position on earth always try to prove their worth and authority in a wrong way. People travelled from different places just to witness the event only to wait in agony because those who were supposed to be leader of the country were giving a negative example to people.

I went home disappointed because the people have been uncontrollable, after the rains, they have covered the ground obstructing our view from the nice position we were in. Part of the event was the unveiling of the statue of the first Paramount Chief. This was the only part we witnessed and we decided to go home disappointed. The waiting was not worth it because despite the long period we failed to see anything.

The Paramount Chief is the chief of all chiefs, honored and praised. Zambia highly regards the traditional form of governance. Moreover, the Paramount Chief is even superior to the President. In my four months in Zambia, I still fail to understand their system of governance. I find it hard to reconcile the roles and delineation of traditional leaders and the formal governance, since chiefs of chiefdoms are very important decision-makers in their villages. I also have difficulty trying to understand the tribal groups. I am not sure if they are the counterpart of our Indigenous Peoples in the Philippines because everyone in Zambia belongs to a particular tribe. I have yet to discover if this system of having a Kingdom has existed even before colonial period or it was an influence from the colonizers. In Zambia, Chiefs are one of the most powerful decision-makers on matters pertaining to land. This system of Kingdom I find very interesting and I hope that I would manage to understand better how it works before I complete my placement.

Ang Pagsusugo

2009-02-10T23:03:00.004+09:00

I always forget to upload this document. The programme which my colleagues at the Foundation for the Philippine Environment prepared for me during my send-off party. Touchy...and i really appreciated it. The file was in Power Point format so i converted it to jpeg format. Enjoy reading much as i enjoyed it myself.

To my FPE family, you have a difference in my life...thanks for everything.

Tragic Death of my Cousin

2009-02-10T22:43:00.005+09:00

I was preparing for the 7:30 mass at Mchini Parish when my phone rang. I was excited in picking it since there was no name that registered on the screen, only call, which means that it was overseas. I was right, it was my cousin in the US who requested for my phone number a month ago. I was so happy and if somebody could see me, my smile was up to my ears. We exchanged the usual “kumusta ka”, how is life treating me in Zambia and the same way I was asking her about work and life in Florida. I could say that since she left in September 2007, we have become closer, making sure that we communicate regularly through yahoo messenger and through chats, we are able to share things which we could not normally do back home in the Philippines. After a few minutes, she asked me if I was alone and I said yes. Then, my heart skipped when she told me that she has some news from home, that I should be strong since I am alone. This line I knew meant something bad happened. My guess was right, one of my cousins has died in an accident. My dead cousin was in a bicycle to buy something for breakfast and as she was making a turn, a speeding motorbike came and hit her. She died on the spot with broken arms and purplish back probably due to hemorrhage and the impact as she landed on the concrete road. Hazel, her name is a cousin of mine who got no parents anymore. She is the youngest and still young to die. Only 26 years old and I know that she could have been enjoying a good life if not this tragic accident happened. One of her sisters, live with my mum at home. Because of this, I had the strength, courage and trust to come to Zambia to volunteer. Her family I would say is the most deprived among our family in so many ways primarily because of the early loss of parents. Her life has always been challenging so I thought that maybe this is God’s way of making her life easy. Being reunited with Him is better than being on earth and suffer.

When I got the news, the moment my cousin Tin-tin dropped the it, I was already crying. Both of us were asking why things are happening when we were not there. In less than four months, she is the second cousin I lost, when I go home, I wouldn’t find two of my cousins anymore. I remember Tin-tin telling me to be strong because I am alone here in Zambia when she heard me crying. It sunk into my mind, yes I am alone. Being away from home at this side of the earth was really difficult. And receiving such news is the last thing somebody alone and away would want to receive. I contemplated of not going to mass, but then I still went so I could pray for my cousin. But while I was walking, I was asking God why He is allowing these things to happen when I am here. My director (priest) told me when I lost my other cousin; would it have made a difference if you were there? And I said no, but being in this situation makes you say that life is not fair. Another priest told me that things happen for a reason, adding that my experience and what are happening have reasons. I thank God for having friends around me that include priests, and fellow volunteers who came to see me and gave me big hugs. It helped so much because I needed them most in this trying time in a volunteer’s life. I have made big sacrifices when I decided to come to Africa, I am not expecting prize for what I did but I am hoping for reward that will come my way when I complete my service here.

Field Visit

2009-01-19T00:08:00.001+09:00

My work as Monitoring and Evaluation Officer has not officially kicked off but I have been doing other things which are not directly in my placement objectives. I am not complaining because it keeps me busy however, I am almost reaching to the point of frustration. When I was informed that I will be joining the Food Security Team to field visits back to back with the monitoring visits of one of Caritas Chipata’s funding agency, I eagerly agreed.

Off we traveled South of Chipata, approximately 65 kilometers of bumpy and muddy roads. The place was called Vubwi, one of the VODP which is part of Chadiza District. It was good that along the way, the vehicles didn’t get stock in the mud. There were two vehicles in convoy, and I traveled with the funding agency’s car. There was a bend on the road which was really muddy where we lost sight of the other vehicle only to find out that they have given a lift to a dead body. Yes, a dead body! I learned afterwards that they picked these people by the road close to the Adventist hospital. Another shocking culture for me because in the Philippines, you would not normally travel a corpse in any vehicle but from a funeral home. I assumed that they probably failed to refuse because there was a nun seated at the front seat of the vehicle. I was relieved that I was not in that vehicle.

After the long trip, we arrived at our destination and the first thing I looked for after the introductions was a toilet. I was shown the toilet which was open pit type and large flies flying out of it. Unable to control how I was feeling, I braved to enter the toilet only to pee on the floor because I failed to bear the flies coming out of the pit latrine.

There was a prepared programme for the monitoring visit of the funding agency representative. I would say a very formal one since it was complete with opening and closing remarks and long messages. After the programme, we proceeded to see the fields of some of the Food Security Programme beneficiaries. I was impressed by the large fields of maize and sunflower. I learned that sunflower is the major source of oil of the people in Zambia. We also visited the hog-raising project which was a communal one. I was surprised that this scheme seem to be successful compared to the Philippines where such project type fails. After the field visits, there was another processing session with the same long speeches.

Courtesy call to the parish priest was done after lunch. Vubwi is a good hideaway place if you want a quiet weekend. It was so cool and probably since it is rainy season, there were greens all over. I also learned that there are saints called Uganda Martyrs. They were the first Christians burned in Uganda when they tried to do their missionary work. The brief courtesy call was the last activity after which we proceeded to Chipata through the border.

I have learned and realized so many things during the field visits in line with culture and probably social aspects. During one of the visits, we have found a family eating with bare hands with flies all over their food. I also realized that learning the language is really important. With my line of work, I must learn how to speak their local language so I would be able to communicate with the people. Through the field visits, I was able to gain insights on how I would approach the M&E when I start the real work on systems installation.

Noche Buena

2009-01-06T21:52:00.002+09:00

Litsong manok (grilled chicken, the Filipino way), banana cake, spaghetti, rice and a bottle of Amarula (a drink made of cream with fruits of the marula tree, otherwise known as elephant tree) were on the table as noche Buena meals. I invited over the 3 priests from the Mchini Parish (where I take meals at least once a week) but only the two, Fr. Richard and Fr. Aaron made it because Fr. Odron was assigned in another district. However, Brother Charles, a seminarian joined as well. It was a simple evening which started with drinks to keep everyone awake, well not alcoholic drinks but coffee and tea. While reheating food, Christmas songs from the computer were playing to feel the spirit of Christmas at home since there was no single decoration because I decided to keep my attention away from the holidays. But it was inevitable so the meals compensated for the lack of feel of Christmas at home. Of course prior to eating was the serious and wacky shots…photo ops…so called.

The meals started with a prayer, I think it was impossible not to say grace before meals with priests around. I was happy that everyone appreciated the food I cooked. They were not extraordinary but they were well done, the cake, pasta and chicken. While sharing the meals we also shared the traditional Filipino Christmas. And I was able to do my global education using the national symbols and map posted on one side of my seating room walls, as visual aids. Unfortunately, I failed to show the miniature jeepney that was also on display.

The evening ended after almost three hours of chatting, sharing laughter and cultures. It was a good celebration, surviving Christmas away from home and making the most of the situation. I was glad and happy that the priests shared the evening with me. I remember back home, our Parish Priest was also at our home for the Noche Buena, so more or less, it was similar. Life is what you make it, I guess, you can sulk if you want but you can also be happy if you want to be. It’s up to you to choose which one you want.

Christmas Midnight Mass

2009-01-06T21:14:00.004+09:00

Failure to travel to Malawi right at the start of our office break was a positive thing eventually because I was able to experience Christmas in Zambia. I was wondering when I learned that mass starts at 7.30 in the evening which was quite early compared with the one I usually have at 10.30 or so in the Philippines. Fortunately, I was able to cook the food for Noche Buena late in the afternoon since there was nothing to keep me busy anyways. Besides, I anticipated power cut and if it happened during evening Christmas meal would be spoiled. I was with two other Filipino volunteers to celebrate it with. We started off to church at 7.30 anticipating that mass would start late as usual. However, we did not foresee that walking would be difficult since the road from my place was not flat but rather bumpy and clayish. Apart from this, it was dark and we were really groping on our way to the church. Because of these unanticipated situations, we arrived late for the mass and we have to squeeze ourselves in the available seats which were at the men’s side. Culturally, men and women have separate sides inside the church. They cannot sit together. On this occasion we were excused probably because we were “mzungus”. Initially, I was comfortably seated which lasted for less than 30 minutes. People became busy when the stage play started reenacting Christmas Day from annunciation to the birth of Jesus Christ. The skit took sometime to finish. People keep on moving alternately sitting and standing in order to watch the performance. At this point, I failed to bear the heat and lack of air. I stood up by the door to inhale cool air outside the church. It relieved me but I was not able to find a seat so I have to stand up during the entire performance that lasted for a long time. I have observed that people were excitedly watching the play and whenever there is opportunity for dancing, it was lovely to see them swaying their body and moving their arms as a form of praise. This is another practice I find different the way it is done in the Philippines because Filipinos don’t dance during masses. One striking observation I had during the mass was people’s enthusiasm when a thanksgiving song was sung by the choir. Almost everyone stood up to praise through singing and dancing. It was a very lively celebration although it lasted for almost 5 hours.

After the mass, I went closer to the altar to see the “belen”. I felt sorry that baby Jesus in the manger was a makeshift cloth shaped like a baby. I wished I would have the opportunity to go home during my two-month stay in Zambia so I could bring an image of the baby Jesus that Mchini Parish can put in their “belen” in December. It was humbling on the other hand, that efforts were exerted in order to show to people the importance of the celebration. I was also amazed at the decorations inside the church using rolls of tissue papers. Christmas greetings were exchanged then afterwards; we proceeded to the Fathers’ House for a drink as well as to get a ride since all of us moved together to my house for the noche Buena.

Welcome to 2008

2009-01-04T23:12:00.003+09:00

Today is the feast of Epiphany...1st Sunday of the year, yes! it's 2009 already. I couldn't believe it. The year has changed while i am in Zambia...one of my new year's resolution is to keep this blogspot updated as much as possible. I am remaining with more posts from 2008....and to those who regularly (is there anyone anyway?) follow this humble page of mine, watch out for it because i have interesting posts that will be uploaded soon.

I just want to wish everyone a HAPPY NEW YEAR...a peaceful, bountiful and joyful 2009 to all....cheers!

Few Days Before Christmas Away from Home

2008-12-26T01:59:00.000+09:00

Two days from now is Christmas Day and one night away is Christmas Eve. The occasion is eating me and my emotions, and as if not contented with my poignant feeling while writing this, I let Christmas songs play on my laptop. Being away from home at this time of the year I guess is the most difficult moment in my volunteer life. Today, I would have been busy preparing menu for the Christmas Eve, arranging wrapped gifts for distribution on Christmas Day, ensuring that house is ready to receive guests. I am trying to be happy and ignore feeling homesick but I can’t help it. I went to Shoprite to shop for food on Christmas Eve, and was excited unpacking the grocery bags. I rested for a while and decided to cook real food for dinner. I was happy with the food I prepared but again, while having dinner I was humming a Christmas song and when I realized what I was doing, I paused, cupped my head with my hands and tried to control my tears from falling. I felt alone again, I was thinking how I would cope with my feelings, it’s difficult, and really challenging. I miss mama, I miss my cousins, I miss my friends, I miss home, I miss my place, I miss everything. There’s no one near me to share with how I am feeling, long distance calls is expensive, besides, the more I will miss home if I talk to anyone from the Philippines. So I just succumbed to my feelings with a prayer that I’ll be strong enough to surpass this volunteer’s life complexity, convincing myself that everything’s going to be alright and Christmas day will pass by just like any ordinary day.

Strange Concepts....Sense of Urgency and Priority

2008-12-26T01:56:00.002+09:00

Assisting my NGO in proposal writing as agreed upon during my induction at the office is most welcome as long as it will not affect my major tasks and responsibilities as Monitoring and Evaluation Advisor. Three weeks have passed and I have reviewed already the guidelines and even tried to browse on-line since applications will be submitted through the net. I have given my opinion regarding its preparation, primarily saying that I can write proposal on my own but my job is not supposed to be this way but rather through sharing skills; besides, a proposal should be based on the context of Zambia and therefore, the locals have more knowledge on how to go about it. I also said that several heads are better than one, so it is important that people sit together and discuss how to proceed with it.

My idea regarding the preparation was accepted and so, schedules were set on its preparation. Saturday and Sunday were both cancelled due to power service interruptions so it was reset to Monday, but then other things came up so the people in-charge to discuss the proposal became busy, whatever it was I would say, was not in the priority list of the tasks at hand. The day ended doing nothing about it. Tuesday came; the people in charge to help in proposal preparation were busy as usual with things which are not priority. What I find really difficult to understand is for people to determine which tasks are urgent and which should be the priority. Whenever somebody would come with any agenda, it will be attended to. And then, another visitor would arrive for whatever reason, and then attention will be deviated to that person until time has gone without accomplishing the tasks at hand for the day. It’s frustrating, sickening and tiring and being a volunteer, if you get affected, you will be the loser. Entertaining the feeling of frustration from work mixed with personal emotions would really drive me mad. Therefore, to keep myself composed, I make conscious effort to process within myself such situations. I just hope that in my two -year stay in this organization, I would be able to influence and develop in them the sense of urgency and priority.

My Laptop My Bestfriend

2008-12-22T19:26:00.000+09:00

I was not expecting that my laptop is going to be my best friend in Zambia. Fr. Richard told me once, a friend who cannot respond and react. I call it my best friend because I turn to it whenever I feel down and bored, I switch it to watch film, listen to music and most of all, I talk to it through my stories. Blogging is supposed to be stories about the place as the title goes but I guess it can also be true figuratively that I am taking the road less travelled, that includes life which I guess somebody who is not brave enough would take. Power service interruption is normal in Chipata, it is called load shedding but on Saturday—the 20th of December, it took the whole day. I failed to cook breakfast and lunch because load shedding, which I am now used to, usually takes 2 hours. I took some crisps “junk foods”---Filipino English and some biscuits but these foods failed to substitute real food, naturally it did not appease my hunger. Fortunately, Fr. Richard gave me a call and unashamedly told him I was hungry, to the rescue of the Father’s House, I took lunch there. I am now getting used to nshima, pumpkin leaves and beef/chicken cooked in tomatoes which until now I could not copy despite the efforts because I really liked the way it is cooked. I stayed for a while after eating hoping that the power will be back but it came at six o’clock in the evening. But I left an hour after eating because it seemed hopeless waiting. I finished a book while taking naps in-between. The day ended like this.

The next day, I was well-prepared. I went for prayers and took some food with me with a plan that I would stay at the office the whole day, surfing the net and sending out Christmas greetings--- By the way, Caritas Office is just across the Mchini Parish---unfortunately, after the mass, power went off. I waited for 2 hours but again I was disappointed. Power was back at 4 o’clock in the afternoon. Again, I was reading a book wherein I fall asleep which lasted for 3 hours, something I don’t normally do in the Philippines. I have to force myself out of the bed because I don’t want to sleep longer; getting out of bed, I found the power was back. So hurriedly, I put the rice cooker and just when I was about to wash the rice, I found out that there’s no water in the tap. I haven’t had a lunch, could not have it from the Father’s House because it’s too much to eat from there every day. I have to share the costs then, though the priests are very welcoming. I waited for the water but I failed, after two hours of waiting I decided to just use the water from my water filter. As I am writing this, I am cooking the rice.

Coping up when you are away from home is difficult, I tell you. However, as I always say, I have made this decision. So, I have to exert efforts and try harder to make this work. I was supposed to join other volunteers to Malawi but due to visa matters, I failed; although, I am still hoping to follow after Christmas. The rest of my volunteer friends don’t have to bother themselves with visa to Malawi because their countries are members or I would rather say, initiated the Commonwealth countries. I asked myself should I feel bad that Philippines is not a member on situations like this? Or I should be happy it is not. Well, certainly I feel proud to be a Filipino and happy of the latter.

Christmas---reality bites. It’s only four days away. I don’t want to feel it, away from home. Alone in this part of the world, it’s too much to think about. I am trying to control my emotions, not to let the situation affect me but I guess I have to face it whether I like it or not, however, it depends so much on me how I will do it. Sometimes, I feel that life is not fair, I have come this far for a reason, but I could say it has failed me in this respect. As a consolation, two Filipinos will be joining me. So we would be celebrating the noche buena together, and perhaps make each other happy and enjoy Christmas in Zambia.

People Come and Go...and my sad experience with a cab

2008-12-22T19:22:00.000+09:00

Goodbye is not easy but it is a reality that everyone must face whether or not a person likes it. Two months ago, I arrived in Chipata with two other volunteers from the UK but I travelled from Lusaka with a colleague who would also be working with the diocese of Chipata for two months. Being both from the diocese binds us together and with another volunteer we became friends, we hang-out and would always make sure that we don’t miss each other on any occasion, especially the simple pleasures in Chipata. We have explored different places where we can have mosi ( a local beer) which really kept us something to do aside from the fact that it was also our bonding moments together. Two months have passed; it’s time to leave and fly back home. And one of the usual things to do is have a leaving party. It’s exciting to prepare parties although it was sad to know that this is particularly a goodbye party.

The party took place in one of the volunteer’s house. Preparations as well took there. Since my place is around 2 kilometers from the party place, I decided to take a taxi so as not to bother other volunteers to pick me from home. Bravely, around 12 noon, I went by the roadside and waited for a cab. In Zambia, getting a cab is a matter of guessing because you wouldn’t know which car is a taxi and which one is not because they are painted in different colors. The law says taxi should be painted blue but, according to people, because this is the color of the ruling party of the government, the opposition was saying that it’s part of the political campaign so naturally people were not happy about it; in short, some taxis were not painted in blue.

As I have said, getting a taxi is a game of chance, I stood by the road waiting for any vehicle to stop and ask if I wanted a ride. After fifteen minutes or less, a taxi coming from the opposite direction stopped by asking if I wanted a ride. I said yes and gave direction to my destination. I hopped in. Zambians are friendly; yes it’s true, until that day. Upon settling in the passengers’ seat, the taxi driver greeted me with how are you, so I said I am fine, thank you but it’s just so hot outside because it took me a while to get a taxi. Sincerely, this was the only thing I said. For no apparent reason at all, the taxi driver was so angry and looked back at me, told me in a loud voice to get out of the car. To be exact “in Jesus’ name, get out of my car!”, trying to be brave, I told the taxi driver, I can’t understand you, did I say anything wrong, did I do something bad?. Insistently, the taxi driver repeated in a very loud voice that I get out of the car. Scared to death, I came out of the car. I came out of the car feeling scared, lost and alone. As if not happy with what he did to me, the taxi driver called upon a drunk man and said something to him, I assumed nothing good because the same drunk man was instructing the children approaching to walk fast away from me, although it was in their local language, I figured out what he said because walk fast was said in English. Still not satisfied, the taxi driver found a group of women along the road, talked to them, probably about me again. I wanted to cry and scream but I managed to convince myself to be strong. I don’t want to get a taxi anymore but I have to be with my friends because I needed somebody to talk to. After a few minutes, another cab stopped by. I bravely hopped in and tried to be quiet and prayed. As soon as I reached my friend’s house, all 3 of them were looking at me, I was on the verge of crying and shaking. I narrated my experience and I felt somehow good after talking to them but the memory lingered in my mind. They assured me that it has nothing to do with my character and some people are really mean, so charge to experience what happened to me.

The following morning, I was traumatized, I don’t want to go out and for two weeks now, memories keep coming back. I am still scared. I don’t want to go out with a cab. I shared my experience to some of my colleagues. They all said it was an unfortunate experience. However, they related it to Satanism, rumors were spreading in Chipata that Satanists are present. Probably, the taxi driver was a Satanist who has seen me covered with God’s grace and could not stand my presence with him. So, it was his way of chasing me away. Good consolation since 3 of them assured me with the same reasons. Fr. Richard even said I could ask the Bishop when I meet him because he had similar experience in Lusaka. They were concerned about me but it was more difficult to process my experience within myself. This is one thing I have to keep to myself without telling people back home so they would not be worrying but certainly it would be one of the stories I would tell them when I go back to the Philippines.

Safari in Africa

2008-12-12T20:49:00.002+09:00

It’s a dream come true for me! I have never thought in my life that I would be able to do real safari in Africa. For someone who spent half of her career in environment development work, such opportunity is rare; therefore a great fulfillment. Less than 3 weeks in placement, I couldn’t resist joining other volunteers to a safari, thinking that it might be difficult to organize it by myself. The destination-- South Luangwa National Park, the second largest national park in Zambia in terms of size but number one in fauna diversity.

For a first-timer like me, I had the impressions that it was a long travel which was more than the 2-hour drive people claim to be. Apart from this, the road was also bumpy which I think made the trip longer. I tried to relax my body to avoid feeling the bumps and was relieved that there was enough room for two people in the car. We stayed at Condote Guest House, which is one of the many ventures of Chipata Diocese. It has rows of self-contained rooms and twin-bed rooms with common toilet and shower. Monkeys were all over the place climbing and hanging on the trees. The guest house was simple but comfortable and one of the cheapest in town because of its location outside the national park. Most of the guest houses are within the national park and normally charge higher.

The first thing done was pay entrance to the park to save time for the early start of the next day’s safari and also book for the night safari. Private vehicles are not allowed inside the park during night time. The next day was really an early start. Luangwa National Park is located in a valley, different from the Philippines because to see animals, you have to trek or climb up mountains, unlike here, animals are roaming around. The vegetation is characterized by medium tall trees (apologies to my terrestrial professors for not able to call them the proper way!), I know that Africa has its own name for its type of forests, but again I cannot remember it. Since October is the hottest month in Zambia, the vegetation of Luangwa National Park was brown with little patches of green. I was excited to hop in the safari car and while on it, my eyes were widely open every time there is sighting of animals. I enjoyed watching the animals wandering around the bush. I wish I have an SLR camera because my digital camera failed to capture the birds and even taking photos of animals from a distance. Rules and regulations on getting off the vehicle are strictly observed. Some of the animals I have seen, as far as I can identify and name included elephants, which has a big population, monkeys, baboons, hippopotamus, rhinoceros, deer, wild buffalos, again a big population, impalas which were seen everywhere, my favorite giraffes and zebras. Although at the end of the day, I was disappointed for not seeing the king of the jungle. However, it didn’t mean all hopes were gone because the safari operators assured us that we would see them during the night safari.

The night safari was another wonderful experience. For four hours, we were taken around to see animals but primarily the target was lions. The same animals we spotted during the day were seen although better in the sense that we found them in assembly. The birds were busy chirping reminding me of one of our guests in LIKAS who can identify birds by the sound of it. I was amazed with the nice colors of birds and even the colorful butterflies. Almost giving-up for the night, it was on the last hour of the night safari that we spotted lions, also in group, like a family because there were big ones and lioness as called by our safari guide. The King of the Jungle finally showed up and we were happy; however, excitement didn’t end with just the lions because we also spotted leopard and hyenas. My safari buddies and I were all happy as we drove back to the guest house because we have seen the animals that we wanted to see. The only regret I have was, failing to pose with the giraffes and zebras. Well, I still have enough time to go back to the park and the next time, I will try my best to capture moments with some of the animals.

When the wheel of life is down...

2008-12-07T19:44:00.002+09:00

Today is the lowest point in my two-month stay in Zambia. I just felt that things were out of my hand, I felt bad that I cannot do simple things and manage simple tasks. My planned trip to one of the places in Eastern province was cancelled, I was not able to join my friends to another district, I missed my boyfriend on line, I was disappointed with my cleaner…I was helpless and I felt invalid. I have not yet fully recovered over the death of my closest cousin, a stepsister in the ICU…emotions have been piling up. Then, the burst of emotions got out of hand. I forgot that I am in Zambia, that the Aydel who is used to getting what she wants, the Aydel who was surrounded by people to do things for her, the Aydel who can always turn to friends and family to talk to, the Aydel who used to live in the Philippines….has to adjust to a new life, thousands of miles away from home.

From office, I went home with a heavy heart, I cried in front of Father Richard when I can no longer control my emotions. Father Richard is a very gentle person but when he told me that he failed to understand my emotions, the shallow tears just fall down from my eyes. In my short stay in Zambia, he has made my life easy. He is approachable and accommodating and I remember one guy who told me that if you don’t get along with him, there’s something wrong with your personality because he is a person whom you would easily get along with. So his failure to understand my reactions affected me so much.

Reflecting upon my behavior and reaction, I realized that in my 30 plus years in this world, it was the first time that I felt and behaved that way. But I guess with my decision to come to Zambia, I have to take things with maturity, though I am also a human being with heart and mind that sometimes, emotions dominate the rationale thinking. Life away from home is hard, much as I want to talk to family and friends back home, it’s not possible because it’s very expensive and it’s always a struggle to get connected. I have to be satisfied with the maximum of 10 minutes talking to them on phone every week.

Life has never made me strong, I cannot understand but it’s making me weak. I don’t know if the decisions I make leads me towards the life I want. I have made great sacrifices to come to this place with one major motivation, so I always ask myself, is it worth it? It seems to me that I didn’t make the right decisions but I hope as the months pass by, life in Zambia would prove me wrong. I need to strengthen my faith and keep praying that things would turn out the way I wanted them to be.

Reflection

2008-12-07T19:35:00.002+09:00

It was a good point to reflect on what Fr. Richard had said, what motivates you to work in Caritas? and as a reflection, I have to ask myself what was the deciding factor for me for taking this post with Caritas, is it the nature of the organization or the job. Before leaving the Philippines, they were both the motivating factors for choosing Caritas. For some reasons, I have not been active in church although from time to time I would help in some aspects whenever I am needed in my parish. Just before I left the Philippines, I was rushing a task assigned to me since I have been doing it for the church many years back and to take advantage of it, I have to complete the work before flying to Zambia. It was good to hear from the priest the appreciation over the task completed because really I spent many late nights sleep just to complete the work rather than spending it with my family, relatives and friends since I will be out for a period of two years.

Jokingly, I was telling my priest friend that God is putting me on the right direction; maybe I would be going to continue my duties and obligations as a Catholic. Several times due to some circumstances in my life, I have to question God’s decisions over the things happening in my life. At certain point, I have doubted God because despite all the efforts exerted to faithfully perform my duties and obligations as a Catholic, things never happen the way I have prayed and wanted. Although, there are always awakening points that would remind me how God loves me and true enough, I just have to look at the brighter side of things.

My being in Caritas strengthened my faith. God led me to this organization because I have a mission in this organization and in Zambia. It is good to be in a place I called “I belong” as a Catholic; there is no reason for me to skip the Holy Eucharist every Sunday and perform my other duties as a Catholic. The short interaction I have with the Fathers in Chipata, made me realize many things. There may be differences from the Fathers back home but I surely admire the simple lifestyle of the Parish, their commitment and zeal of faith. These things I have shared with my friends with a prayer that I hope my first impression lasts. My mission in Caritas is to serve the people of Zambia in my own little way through sharing my skills in order to change lives. Leaving behind my family, relatives and friends and the comforts of home are great sacrifices I took. Being in Caritas is a mutual benefit, I share my knowledge and skills in development work and in return, I learn from the people and culture, and it strengthens my faith.

Welcome to Chipata

2008-10-26T17:53:00.000+09:00

Travel. The long, straight road to Chipata traversing the Great East Road…so called because it is the road leading to Malawi. After five hours of waiting for the driver to pick me and another volunteer for Chipata diocese, off we went to travel squeezed on the front seat of the land rover since there were people who hitched a ride. After two stops for water (only!), we reached Chipata at 17:30 (have to get used to their time!) summing up the 6-hour drive. I was so tired and very hungry and I am usually unpleasant when hungry. My first destination was the convent (called Father’s House in this part of the world). The people I found at the Father’s house were very helpful, I managed to unload my suitcases quickly because everyone helped. However, without minding where my things were going, I asked the driver if I was going to stay for the night in a father’s house, which was humbly replied that the Executive Director would take me to my house. I asked one of the boys helping me with my luggages where he was taking my bags who said that they are in a safe place, and asking me what was my problem. As I said, I am bad when hungry, so in a sarcastic manner, I said; my problem is I am tired and hungry! Only to know the following day that I was mean to a priest, the parish priest! After few minutes I was taken to my house with another car behind with Father Richard on the driver’s seat, the Executive Director of Caritas! After unloading my things and showing the rest of the house, we went to eat!!! It was dinner in a local restaurant that was owned by Indians. Father Richard was very helpful and kind, he helped me fix my mosquito net before leaving me at the house. Reality sunk in again, I am home alone. I prayed that I would manage to sleep in a big house.

My House. Located in the middle of a big plot of land in an area which is just starting development, which appears like a subdivision in my jargon. Houses are big and construction is on-going. My house is newly-constructed, in fact I am the first occupant, four-bedroom two of which are self-contained rooms, a seating room, separate rooms for dining and kitchen. My room in particular is spacious and it has a bathtub. Curtains were already hung when I found it and the basic furnishings necessary during my stay. Literally spacious because the furnishings are very minimal and I don’t think I would be able to fill it during my stay. The lawn still needs landscaping and gardening, this one I promise to myself I would help improve.

The Place. Chipata is a quiet, small town referring to its residents but big when it comes to geographic area. It is complete with basic facilities for communications, shopping, sports, dining, transport and recreation. Located in the Northern part of Zambia, Chipata is the capital of the Eastern province, 15-minute drive to the border by car and 2-hour drive to Lilongwe, the capital of Malawi. My host in this part of Zambia is the Catholic Diocese of Chipata through Caritas- Chipata. I would be interacting with people from the church aside from the beneficiaries of the various programs and services of Caritas.

The Fathers. I was adopted by the parish for 4 days because I have to eat at the Father’s House during those days when I didn’t have my fridge and cooker yet in my place. I learned to eat Zambian’s staple food called nshima, which is made of maize flour. It’s heavy on stomach, very good for carbo-loading. In fact, during the succeeding meals, I only have to take half of its serving. It’s good to pair with any type of dish like fish, vegetables and meat. My short interaction with the fathers in Zambia made me realize a lot of things about this vocation. Lifestyle-wise, fathers here are different from the priests in my country. Fathers in Zambia live with the community, share rooms with absence of all the perks I have seen in the living quarters of the priests back home. Everything here is communal yet it couldn’t be presumed that the parish/diocese and the fathers are poor because it is definitely enjoying the privilege a church would have in any part of the world. Moreover, the development work it is providing to the people is admirable. The spirit of helping each other among the parishes is obviously practiced, and the commitment of the fathers is worth emulating. These are my first impressions, I could be wrong as the time passes by and as I stay longer in this place but I hope I wouldn’t be. I hope first impressions last.

In Country Induction

2008-10-26T17:50:00.000+09:00

I could not put a date on this entry since I missed so many days because our in-country training has been very busy because of the different sessions squeezed in 5 days! Gender and culture in Zambia, history of Zambia and, National volunteering, HIV and AIDS in Zambia, monitoring and evaluation, etc. I would not be dwelling so much on the details of each session but let me share what struck me most during each session. Zambia like any other countries has its own story to tell when it comes to fighting for freedom. It has own heroes that lead the battle to achieve freedom, and this year, Zambia is celebrating its 40th year of independence. It was striking to know that Zambian currency was once higher than the value of a US$ during the early years of independence specifically during the time when the price of copper was very high in the world market. Copper, is the major contributor to the country’s economy, one of the regions in Zambia in fact is called Copperbelt which goes by the name because of the availability of copper in the entire province. However, the price of copper went down which affected the economy of the country, Zambia started to “know” the international money-lending institutions and due to other political reasons, its economy continuously went down. In addition to this, the HIV and AIDS epidemic slowly affected the entire nation in several aspects. As mentioned during the lecture on gender and culture in Zambia, volunteers are not discouraged to fall in love or engage in sexual affairs; however, it has always to be kept in mind “treat every Zambian as HIV/AIDS positive”, personally I do not agree to this generalization but on the other hand, this is a way of reminding oneself of the reality of HIV and AIDS, and should therefore take extra caution on this matter. During the session on HIV and AIDS, two
PLHWA were present to share their experiences and how they managed their condition. During the session on Culture ‘in’ Zambia, I was confused how family was explained. If Filipinos are extended, Zambia is much more extended; aunties can be mothers while uncles can be fathers, etc.

Parties! During the course of the week, the British High Commission in Zambia through the High Commissioner hosted a cocktail party for volunteers. It also coincided with the 50th founding anniversary of VSO global and I learned that night that VSO Zambia was among the first five countries VSO volunteers served. It was a nice party, I got the chance to meet serving volunteers, Zambians and other nationals. The High Commissioner was well-knowledgeable about what VSO is doing that was proven through her speech. A cultural presentation was also one of the highlights of the evening wherein VSO work was portrayed through drama, dance and song. Another party was dubbed cultural night which was held on the last evening of the induction and hosted by VSO for partners and volunteers. The presentations portrayed dance and songs from the different tribes of Zambia. It was amazing to see the youths dancing while singing, in other words, dancing to their music! They were good at swaying their hips and tapping their feet. I had the feel of it when I was forced to dance during the last number wherein the leader of the group started to take volunteers from their seats. I was seated behind, the last row actually, but fortunately or unfortunately, I was pulled out to represent the Filipinos. Well, I managed to sway my hips and danced Filipino way to the tune of African music…

Tour Around Lusaka

2008-10-26T17:27:00.003+09:00

I got up earlier than expected, again maybe due to the time difference. The breakfast was good, milo, cocoa drink, coffee are available which were all nestlè products, moreover, bacon, eggs, pork and beans, sausage were also served! Good enough to eat more to keep up for what I missed during lunch and dinner. I was happy for the availability of such foods, which means I wouldn’t starve! However, this has become our breakfast everyday.

The day was scheduled for city tour, we visited some of the major or rather I would say significant areas in Zambia’s history. The bus took us to the most congested part of Lusaka City called Mutendere Compound, then passed through Zambia National Broadcasting Company. Another stop was the Burial site for the 3rd Republican President who died in August of this year. The burial ground was being developed into a place similar to that of Mahatma Gandhi’s burial ground in New Delhi as well as Bagabandhu in Bangladesh. Then to Chilenje House which played a significant role in the history of democracy in Zambia, a small house where Dr. Kenneth David Kaunda lived. According to the tour guide, it was in Chilenje House 394 where meetings were held during the struggle for independence which Zambia achieved in 1964 with Dr. Kaunda serving as the first President of the Republic of Zambia. The next destination was Kabwata Cultural Village which housed indigenous crafts like wood carvings, batik and tie dye, stone crafts and other bead crafts. Houses were also made of indigenous materials the way houses were built before. The residents of the village are artists in various fields. The village was government initiated with the primary purpose of preserving some aspects of Zambian culture. According to the village leader, 10% of the sales are placed in a common fund which is maintained to sustain and subsidize development in the village. I was surprised by the high awareness of the people in protecting the environment. It was explained by the leader that wood are gathered in a sustainable manner and permission is secured from the tribal leader of the place where woods are gathered. What impressed me was the rare kind of wood, called ebony and jacaranda, too bad; I didn’t know its scientific name! So I couldn’t say if they are available in the Philippines. The finish product looked fantastic apart from the light weight of the wood. The next stop was a very impressive building which housed Zambia National Museum. The museum contained memorabilias of Zambian history and culture including those being used for witchcraft! The next stop was Manda Hill that was also surprising in Zambia, it is a shopping complex that included a big grocery shop called Shoprite, local and international fastfood chain. What made it memorable for me?! I was able to eat chicken biryani, my favorite dish in Bangladesh. Due to limited time, we were not able to move around the place but I am assured that I would find things I thought not available in Zambia.

The morale? It’s difficult to judge a place and its people when you have not been there and you have not interacted with them. Zambia may be in the process of developing its country but its richness in culture and history cannot just be substituted with any fast-growing development. In fact, it has huge potential for development in many aspects.

TOUCHING DOWN...LUSAKA

2008-10-26T17:20:00.002+09:00

Finally after 24 hours of grueling flight, 3 plane transfers, I, together with two other Filipino volunteers, touched down Lusaka International Airport. A VSO staff picked us up from the airport and assisted us in securing our visa granting us 30 days because our work permit has not been released yet.

The VSO driver took us to a place called Barn “Motel” which will be our “house” during the induction week. The place is very simple, housed in a wide compound surrounded with trees and different flowering plants that serves as fence, and for this country, the landscaping was pretty good and it has a swimming pool! In this country I have seen the best quality of roses with big flowers, thick petals and a variety of colors. A small reception area separate from the line of rooms was our first destination, after leaving our luggage we proceeded to the dining area to have our most awaited lunch! Some volunteers from other countries were already around, having arrived ahead of us, probably due to the short distance from their origin. The food serving was huge, more than enough for 2 persons of my eating capacity. I was so hungry but only to be disappointed with the rice that was not cooked the way I expected. Maybe my tongue has to adjust again from the taste of rice cooked the African way. I couldn’t blame my distaste for the food entirely on how it was prepared but maybe the fatigue I felt from the long trip since all I want to do is lie down, besides, our arrival time in Lusaka was already 8.30 in the evening, Philippines’ time. My body clock has to adjust with time in Zambia.

After settling in, I did the most awaited part of the journey, lie down in bed! I did not sleep because I have to condition myself and waited for the evening so I could sleep soundly. After few hours of rest, I couldn’t wait to call home which I managed to do through the reception area. Mum was still emotional when I talked to her, which was understandable under the circumstances. Ten thousand kwacha for a 3-minute call, I did not bother converting how much it was in peso! After hanging up the phone, I received my first kwacha for the equipment, half million (kwacha!), dream come true, I am a millionaire in Zambia! But that was only equivalent to less than a hundred US$.