Making Sense of Four Turbulent Years

July 4, 2010. This is the date when everything changed. Up until that point, I lived what you may call a 'normal' life; from school, to college, to steady employment as a civil engineer. I may have been generally successful, but I certainly wasn't content.

This date marked my arrival in Bamako, Mali. The start of my first endeavor on international soil. I was now officially a Peace Corps Trainee, learning a new language and preparing to live and work in a rural Malian village for two years.

Fast forward four years and 25 days later...

July 29, 2014. Departing Manila's Ninoy Aquino Airport, I found it hard to put it all into perspective. I had just completed my final international assignment before graduate school.

Between these two dates, I have served in three different capacities within the US Peace Corps. And unfortunately, only once did I successfully 'close-out' my assignment.

My two-year assignment as a Water and Sanitation Engineer in Mali was cut short when, in April 2012, political instability brought about by a coup d'état forced all 180 volunteers to evacuate. My five-month assignment as a Peace Corps Response Volunteer, serving as a Disaster Risk Reduction Program Specialist in the Philippines, came to a premature end after just one and a half months when I had to resign due to a violation of Peace Corps' motorcycle usage ban.

The one assignment that ended as expected was as a Public Health Extension Agent in Kenya. I successfully closed-out my service, abbreviated due to my prior stint in Mali, after one year.

Leaving Mali was the lowest point in these past four years. Going to bed one night confident that I still had five months remaining, only to wake up the following morning knowing that I'd be gone within a week was devastating. My close friends in village and I counted on that remaining time together, both to tie up the loose ends of our projects and to share in our remaining time together. Fortunately, I found the time to return for a one-month visit before departing for the Philippines. Although far from ideal, this trip gave me the 'closure', both personally and professionally, that I desperately longed for.

Video: Cultural Presentations from Rosario

The following video is of the Stations of the Cross re-enactment held during Holy Week in Rosario, my Filipino community, on April 19th. Refer to my previous post entitled Rosariohanon's Passion of the Christ for details.

The following video was taken during the Kinis Festival held in Rosario, my Filipino community, on June 21st. Refer to my previous post entitled The Kinis Festival for details.

My Last Month in Rosario

My host family in Rosario. After the thefts I experienced while living in my original house, Mayor 'Tidot' Miranda offered for me to stay with his family. Especially given my resignation from the Peace Corps, I cannot begin to express the hospitality and generosity Tidot and his wife Regi demonstrated during these last 3 months.

On July 5th, the Baraks Boys, my 'barkada' (group of friends) became entrepreneurs and started their own convenience store and fast food restaurant, under the encouragement and guidance of local parish priest Father Roni. Modeled partially after 7-Eleven, Baraks 24/7 is intended to be the first business catering to customers at all hours. Given the lack of local job opportunities, I was thrilled to see these guys take matters into their own hands.

Responding to Typhoon Glenda

Well that didn’t take long! Not one day passed after the approval of our Municipal Disaster Risk Reduction and Management Plan (MDRRMP) on Monday afternoon before it was put to the test in the most severe disaster to strike our area since Typhoon Dinang in 1993 (Rosario has largely evaded direct hits from typhoons).

It may seem as though we rushed to approve the plan in preparation of this disaster, but that is far from the truth. The fact of the matter is that Monday's meeting had been planned for a week, and even during this meeting, Typhoon Glenda only commanded passing remarks. The storm was forecasted to pass through our region, but at a sufficient distance to only entail heavy rains.

By 2AM Tuesday morning, these severe rains portended the looming barrage.

With winds beginning to squall around 6AM, my counterpart Bobi, the Municipal Disaster Risk Reduction and Management Officer (MDRRMO), summoned all members of the Municipal Disaster Risk Reduction & Management Council (MDRRMC) for an emergency meeting at 8AM. Even at this time, it was unclear whether we would actually see any significant effect from the storm. But in the name of contingency, we prepared for a full-scale response effort.

During our emergency MDRRMC meeting Tuesday morning, Bobi and I began by explaining the sections of our newly approved MDRRMP governing a disaster response intervention. The Responsible Official (the Municipal Mayor) then appointed Bobi as the Incident Commander, who is to lead all field operations. We then discussed the logistics of specific tasks therein assigned by our plan to key members of the MDRRMC.

Disaster Risk Reduction & Management Plan Approval

Members of Rosario’s Municipal Disaster Risk Reduction & Management Council (MDRRMC) signed and approved our Municipal Disaster Risk Reduction & Management Plan (MDRRMP) during a meeting Monday afternoon. The council, chaired by the Municipal Mayor, includes all municipal department heads, the Chief of Police, the highest-ranking officer of the locally assigned armed forces platoon, the local parish priest, and other vital members of the community.

Our office reached a milestone on Monday, becoming the first municipality in the Province of Northern Samar, out of 24 municipalities, to draft and approve a Municipal Disaster Risk Reduction & Management Plan (MDRRMP). This dearth of planning is in spite of the requirement from the National Disaster Risk Reduction & Management Council, through Republic Act 10121 approved in 2010, which requires every municipality in the Philippines to develop their own MDRRMP by the year 2013.

Prior to the plan’s signing, Bobi and I delivered a presentation highlighting the key components of the plan. I was particularly intent upon explaining technical recommendations for risk reduction and proposals requiring significant budget allocation.

My First Pilgrimage, A Monkey Seller, Rosario's Founding Anniversary, and More

On June 6th, I joined my good friend Father Roni in making the long journey to Gamay at the far end of Northern Samar in advance of the Diocesan Pentecost celebration. It was a long journey by jeepney, car, boat, and ‘habal habal’ (a hired motorcycle accommodating up to 4 people).

Upon arrival, we socialized with his friends from the church. Pictured above, Father Roni sings 'videoke' at a local resort as the nuns await their turn. For all of their chastity, these singing nuns do love their love songs!

Representing our local parish in Rosario, I joined our delegation to march in the procession kicking off the Pentecost celebration June 7th in Gamay. (Photo Credit: Aida)

Benuga: Another Baraks Adventure

The sun setting over the bay and Samar Island as seen from Benuga. (Photo Credit: Father Roni)

Our municipality of Rosario is not known as a tourist destination. There are no developed tourist destinations, no lodgings, and no restaurants. No tour guides operate in these waters. The number of foreigners that have ever set foot on Rosario soil with the express purpose of pleasure can probably be counted on one hand. And these foreigners are likely to have ties to the area through marriage or work.

But these facts should not insinuate that Rosario is without its natural wonders. Rosario is, in fact, home to waterfalls, a hot springs (with potential for development, as unimpressive as it may currently be), and a beautiful coastal escape known as Benuga. This was the site of my latest excursion with the Baraks.

We first visited Benuga on June 12th, spending the whole day there. We took a boat to the secluded corner of Gilbert Island, far from the inhabited portion, and spent the day cooking, chatting, playing guitar, swimming, and exploring Benuga's rock formation and cave.

We enjoyed it so much that just 6 days later, we decided to return for an overnight camping trip, this time joined by my good friend and local parish priest Father Roni. Unfortunately, I didn't enjoy this trip quite as much as I would have liked.

The Kinis Festival

Dancers perform during Rosario's 'Kinis Festival'.

The Municipality of Rosario prides itself on being home to the best, tastiest ‘kinis’, or mud crabs, in the Philippines. These ‘kinis’ are fattened and exported to Manila and beyond. I can personally attest to just how savory these creatures are.

‘Kinis’ sold by a local man during the festival.

As part of an effort to encourage tourism to the area, Rosario has endeavored to stage an annual ‘Kinis Festival’, as part of the founding anniversary of their municipality every June 21st. The focal point of this festival is to be the dance of the ‘kinis’.

Month of Fiestas

On May 25th, I joined members of the church in heading to Ligaya for their Fiesta. This was one of the many fiestas I accompanied friends in attending during this past month.

May is the busiest month for fiestas in our area. Six of the eleven barangays in our municipality hosted their fiestas during this time. A fiesta kicks off with ‘Vesper Night’, the night preceding the actual fiesta. This night involves a disco with plenty of ‘kuratsa’, a traditional Spanish dance adopted into the Filipino culture and used to raise money, oftentimes a beauty or popularity pagent, and protocols from local officials. The fiesta day itself kicks off with a mass at the local chapel, followed by a procession of the statue of the patron saint of the community. Then, the main event… lots and lots of food. Most houses prepare huge spreads of food, allowing one to go from house to house to eat as much as they can.

We were the first to attack this delectable spread of food at one of five houses we visited in Ligaya.  

Country Livin'

My friends and I recently went on a couple excursions to 2 different farms; one being my friend Aida's family farm, the other being the Vice Mayor's. The former is a very low-key shanty built upon a hillside overlooking the family's rice fields. The latter is more geared towards leisure, being a couple very nice cottages next to a fish pond adjacent to a quaint river. The Vice Mayor still harvests fish from the pond, but for the most part he seems to be gearing it up to be a small resort for locals looking to escape daily life.

Elpiyo balances on the narrow wall of a concrete irrigation channel as we make the 30 minute journey through muddy rice fields to Aida's farm.

This is one way to get a 'ceelote' (young coconut). Pollard is incredible adept at climbing trees, and even took the time to cut open a coconut and drink it on the spot! 

Disaster Preparedness Workshop

Workshop participants discuss and plan activities to be conducted through their various offices before, during, and after a natural disaster.

Ever since we finished our site assessment of the entire municipality at the end of March, my counterpart Bobi and I intended to hold a 'Disaster Risk Reduction and Management Plan Development Workshop' with members of the municipal staff and officials from all 11 barangays (districts). This workshop would serve as a forum for the leaders of our community to provide their input into the Municipal Disaster Risk Reduction and Management Plan (MDRRMP) that we are tasked to develop.

Unfortunately, several circumstances beyond our control, including my resignation from Peace Corps and the multitude of fiestas at this time of year, delayed our plans. But after almost two months of planning, we were able to hold our two-day workshop this past Tuesday and Wednesday.

We designed the workshop to be as interactive as possible. Nearly all of the sessions involved group work, where individual communities and/or vocational teams worked together to assess current situations and plan for future activities which can not only render Rosario a more resilient community in the face of natural disaster, but maybe even prevent, or at least mitigate, future disasters from occurring.

Friends, Fiestas, and Fangs

The night before I left for Manila, my friends and I met some guys hunting fruit bats in the street. While their massive prey are feeding on banana trees, the young men use air rifles to stun them, then string their loot together on a stick ready to cook the following day.

Karaoke is huge here. Nary an event goes by without it, and most every house has their own karaoke unit through a DVD player in their house. This picture is from the 50th birthday party of Bebeth (singing), who works in the budget office at the municipality. Held at a nearby beach, we enjoyed a buffet featuring ‘lechon’ (rotisserie pig), the traditional holiday food before the party got started in earnest.

Biri with the Baraks, Round II

On Monday, April 28th, I took my second trip to Biri Island with my friends. As with the first, we had a great time amongst absolutely breathtaking scenery.

Most of our group within a sort of natural amphitheatre carved into the rocks at Biri.

The trip was quite different from the last. We again stayed at Jazel’s home in Bagong Silang, where she teaches at the local school. But this trip was planned around their community’s fiesta. It was a very low-key affair, but it did mean that we had countless invitations to eat with families in the village, and had no need to cook for ourselves.

So we enjoyed the company of each other and friends in the community all day Monday over plenty of food and drink and swam in the calm seas nearby at night. On Tuesday, we set off early to the rock formations at Bel-At. We had several more hours at the rocks this time, which allowed us to spend more time exploring.

Below are some of my favorite scenes from this trip:

Bounding through rocks and waters alike, we spent much of our time exploring this beautifully jagged coastline. 

When it rains, it pours...

This ferry took me and my bus from Luzon, the main island in the Philippines, to my island of Northern Samar. The 23 hour bus ride is a far cry from the quick 1 hour plane ride I had taken to site originally, but now everything is on my own dime.

Since I returned to Rosario sans Peace Corps, my daily life has changed significantly. Unfortunately, this mainly stems from a string of personal adversity. As the rain fell outside daily, despite this being the ‘dry season’ or ‘summer’ in the Philippines, my luck continued to fail me.

Less than a week after I returned from my resignation, I was the victim of a theft from my home. Sleeping on the second floor of my duplex apartment, I cracked the window due to the heat thinking that no one would scale a wall to enter in my sleep. I was wrong.

I had suspected theft three times within my first month here, each time a few 1,000 pesos would be missing from my wallet. I had assumed that the perpetrator entered through a vaulted entry into the adjacent family’s apartment not properly closed off, so I was trying to handle it internally with the landlord. But then, as I went to pay for transportation to the airport while heading into Manila as mandated by Peace Corps, I noticed that 5,000 pesos, the biggest hit yet, was missing from my wallet; money I absolutely needed just to get to Manila. Fortunately, my counterpart was able to assist me at the time.

Rosariohanon's Passion of the Christ

The cast and crew of Rosariohanon’s production of the Stations of the Cross.

The most entertaining part of Holy Week in Rosario, for me, had to be the choir group’s reenactment of the Stations of the Cross, popularly known even here as the “Passion of the Christ” thanks to Mel Gibson.

The group had been preparing costumes and practicing daily for several weeks, and the end result was indicative of that effort. The procession began 4AM Saturday at the church, winding throughout town before ending a couple of miles away at Rosario National High School.

Each station involved readings, with the youth acting out what was being said. The event lasted through sunrise, until about 6:30AM.

Below are pictures from their performance:

Holy Week Rosario

I am not particularly religious, nor do I identify with any particular religion. But I have been interested in how the different cultures I have visited celebrate their faith. And the fact that here in Rosario most of my best friends are intimately involved in the church has led me to become active in the Easter proceedings.

All in all, during Holy Week, I spent over 25 hours at formal church masses or events, notwithstanding the many hours chatting with friends as they made preparations for the week at the church. I also sang hymns in waray-waray, the local language, in the choir during the Saturday Easter Vigil (only possible due to the lyrics being shown through PowerPoint).

It is not an exaggeration to say that this one-week represented more church than I have attended in my past 10 years of life. But the fact that I was raised Catholic gives me a point of comparison between Easter celebrations in America and in the Philippines. To say the least, Catholicism in the Philippines is much more devout, as you can see below:

Father Roni blesses palms brought by the parishioners during Palm Sunday mass.

Going Rogue...

This has been one trying week. A week that changed everything about my time in the Philippines, and threatened to remove me from my new community for good.

I felt great about my time in Rosario when, Friday morning, I was at a hospital in Catarman, the provincial capital, for a lab test to finally determine whether I have any lingering parasites from my visit to Mali. After just one month, I was already well-integrated into the community, and Bobi and I were in the midst of planning a disaster risk reduction and management workshop with local government officials.

But as I was waiting for the results from the lab, I got a text message from our country director notifying me that they had obtained 'compelling and overwhelming evidence' that I have been riding a motorcycle, which is in violation of Peace Corps policy, and that I would be immediately sent home.

My friends and I enjoy an octopus and fish feast Friday night at the church after learning that these might be my last moments in Rosario. Father Roni (right), the priest of our local Catholic Church and a great friend, has offered that I can join them for their meals everyday if I return.

Biri Island with the Baraks

This past Sunday, I joined a group of friends from Rosario on an outing to Biri Island. We had a group of 14 people, all of whom are active in the local Catholic Church. 10 of those people are young men from the Baraks Boys, a group that I often join to chat during my free time. The other 4 are young women whom I have also gotten to know over the past month. Jazel, one such woman, lives in Rosario, but is posted to Bagong Silang, in the municipality of Biri Island, as an elementary school teacher. She served as our host during the trip.

Our entire group pictured on Hinablan Rock.

The municipality of Biri Island, made up of several small islands, is the premier tourist attraction in Northern Samar province due to its astounding natural beauty. While it certainly did not disappoint, the bigger part of the trip was actually the food. Whereas we as Americans are used to food taking center stage on vacation, we generally see vacation as a reprieve from cooking and an opportunity to sample the local fare. In this case, the guys made use of most of our available time to cook every meal, each of which was completely fresh and delicious.

The following are select pictures from our outing, and thanks to the Filipino affinity for picture taking, there were a lot to go through:

The 'Rosariohanon' Community

Some friends at the local Catholic Church making 'hinagum', a local delicacy made of rice, coconut milk, and sugar, traditionally prepared just after harvest.

I am now moving in on my one-month mark in Rosario. When dealing with only a 5-month service, as opposed to two years, this milestone is all the more significant. Over 20% of my time has now passed by.

It should follow that my relationship with the community would suffer due to this brevity. But I am pleased to find that this is not the case. Compared to Mali and Kenya, both of which would nevertheless become second homes to me, the Philippines does not present the same caliber of cultural challenges when it comes to integration.

The main impediment to integration was and always is language, and that remains the case here. I have been trying to learn ‘waray-waray’, the local dialect, but am unlikely to get very far without any formal training and with only limited time on my hands. But unlike in Africa, most people here can speak English well. Whether they choose to use it is another story.

Concluding our municipal risk assessment...

Following is a selection of pictures from the last leg of our Disaster Risk Reduction and Management team's site assessment of the municipality's 11 barangays:

Homes surrounding the small port at Jamoog are susceptible to storm surge during a monsoon or typhoon.

A view of the coastline from Barangay Jamoog. We scaled the large hillside in search of a 1-meter wide, 150-meter long crack locals had found in the soil several years back. No evidence remains, but such a crack could be indicative of an unidentified fault line through the village which could cause an earthquake in the future.

Acquainting with Rosario

Talk about an upgrade! After almost 3 years in the Peace Corps, always living in a simple mud house, my new home is damn luxurious. I live in a fully furnished two-story duplex. My bedroom, complete with an air conditioner that I haven’t yet brought myself to use, is upstairs. Downstairs is a living room, bathroom, and kitchen, complete with (intermittent) running water and electricity. The municipality even has a weekly trash collection service.

Even better… the food. So far I’ve eaten mud crabs, a variety of fresh and salt-water fish, eel, shrimp, squid, pork, beef, chicken, and a wide assortment of fresh fruits and vegetables. Pictured above, the women of the local canteen outside our municipal office prepare a variety of lunch options each weekday.

Hitha Manila

I've been through this whole training/orientation business before. Twice, in fact. Mercifully, on account of this being a Peace Corps Response position, the process has been significantly shorter. And on Thursday morning, scarcely a week after my arrival here in Manila, I will be flying out to my new home on the island of Samar.

If this city is anything to go by, my time here won't be anything like my service in Mali or Kenya. There is a Starbucks or a 7-Eleven on nary every other street corner. One of the biggest malls I remember ever stepping into, Robinsons Place, is not even the largest mall in Manila. That would be the Mall of Asia, the third largest in the world, and therefore a place I never want to go. McDonald's, always two-story megastructures here, is one of the local favorites, alongside similarly-modeled Filipino chains. Hell, there are Krispy Kremes, T.G.I. Friday's... even an In-N-Out Burger!

'The Jeepney', as seen on the streets of Manila. You jump on, ride for a small fee, and jump off at your destination. Best part... the owners get really creative in pimping their rides.

Aside from the many familiar American conveniences are peculiarities in culture and transport. They may not eat with their hands as in Mali or Kenya, but instead of a knife and fork, Filipinos eat with a fork and spoon. The spoon serves not as a 'shovel', but a cutting apparatus for tough meat. The primary mode of public transportation is the 'jeepney', a small 70's-themed minibus straight out of the mind of Jerry Garcia.

Video: Maliki ka Ɲɛnajɛ (Maliki's Party)

The following videos were taken during the ɲɛnajɛ (party) held in Makili, my Malian village, on January 17th. Please refer to my previous post entitled Maliki ka Ɲɛnajɛ (Maliki's Party) for details.

Dununw (Bambara Traditional Drumming)

Cɛba (Big Man)

The Local Side of Bamako

Every Malian who has ventured to Bamako seems to have taken a few of these pictures. Posed, in front of the gaudiest of backgrounds. Here I am with my friend Bamoussa at their friend's photo studio next to their fini gɔsi yɔrɔ. But I wasn't supposed to smile!

I never felt much of a connection to Bamako, Mali's capital city. But I'll be the first to admit that I had never really given it a chance. Bamako, to me, was always that dirty, crowded, sprawling city that I had to visit on occasion for official Peace Corps business. I always treated it as a transit point. Somewhere I had to pass through to get back to the friendly confines of Ségou.

This trip gave me the opportunity to get to know the real Bamako, outside of the government-dominated quartier of Hamadallaye and the busy market centers. While in Bamako, I stayed with Haoua, my former APCD (Associate Peace Corps Director) for Water and Sanitation. Her family was amazing during my stay, welcoming me into their home and helping me out when going to and from the airport, especially given my lost luggage.

Haoua, my former APCD, helped me out a lot in Bamako, serving as my jatigi (host family). It was great to catch up, and get to know the rest of her family during my time there. 

Tempering Expectations

Over the past year and nine months since I was evacuated from Makili, I have been in regular contact with our committee members over the phone. Despite their many challenges, I was generally pleased with what I heard from them about their work. But being back on the ground, I quickly learned that things were not so cut and dry. The committees remain active, but they certainly have plenty to improve upon.

One of the first things that stood out to me was just how filthy the pumps were. While I was in Makili, the village itself established the following two rules: that people must remove their shoes prior to stepping onto the concrete apron, and that the pumps were to be swept clean every morning prior to them being unlocked. But, as you can see from the picture below, neither task has been happening as of late.

The pumps are still in heavy use, providing the village with a safe, reliable drinking water source. But the water and sanitation committee's rules enforcement has left much to be desired.

More concerning was the lack of enforcement of the rule banning the slamming of the pump handle. Whereas the previous rules were primarily cosmetic in nature, this rule actually has significant ramifications regarding the longevity of the pump. When the handle is slammed, the actual components of the piston within the ground face undue stress which can lead to premature breakage and pump failure. Throughout my three weeks in village, I witnessed user after user slamming the handle without repercussion.

Maliki ka Ɲɛnajɛ (Maliki's Party)

On Friday January 17th, my village threw an incredible ɲɛnajɛ (party) for me. They paid for a dununw (traditional drumming) group, a local jelicɛ (griot), and, for the first time in over 10 years, actually made jakow (traditional mascots/costumes). They also slaughtered a goat for a village-wide meal of kini ni tigadɛgɛna ni ba sogo (rice, peanut sauce, and goat meat).

Everyone had a great time, and the village was clearly buzzing from the excitement of putting such a celebration on for the first time in recent memory. It was just awesome to be a part of something like this, where all of those involved are personal friends. The village as a whole worked very hard to put this together, and I can't express how much it meant to me.

Preperations

Each kin (neighborhood) made their own jakow. Thursday in Katilela, Drissa and Adama stitch together grasses from kɔlɔn kɔnɔ (the rice fields) for a jako while Badaou, Famoussa, and Bala work on tying together the wooden carcass of sticks.

Bala jokingly dances with the jako carcass as others look on.

Return to Makili in pictures...

Yɛ drives his misiw wɔtɔrɔ (cattle cart) through the dry fields of the Sahel outside Makili.

Remudding the walls of the offering site for Dumbashu (Mawlid), the Islamic holiday commemorating the birth of the Prophet Muhammad.

I bɔra i ka so, i nana i ka so

I bɔra i ka so, i nana i ka so. You've left your home, you've come to your home. This traditional Bambaran saying, signifying the enduring hospitality of the Malian people, is the best way I can begin to describe my trip back to my village of Makili.

Having the opportunity to return almost two years after being evacuated was an extraordinary experience. In one sense, everything just felt normal. I've come back home. The village, the environment, the friendships were just as I had left them. Even my house, somehow still vacant after my departure, was returned to me for those three weeks.

I yala yala'd, walking throughout the village, joining people to chat over tea. My language came right back, along with the memories and the names of the people whom I shared them with. I spent all of my time in the company of friends, not really doing much, but doing exactly what I came there to do.

This was not the ideal season for a visit. It is currently cold season in Mali. Although this may bring a welcome reprieve from the intense heat, it also means that the people of my village are busy during the days cutting rice in the fields. But despite all of the work, my friends in Makili really made me feel appreciated.

They gave me a warm reception upon my arrival, and before leaving, threw an amazing ɲɛnajɛ (celebration) in my honor. A goat and several chickens were slaughtered for me during my time there. For the celebration, for everything, they refused any help from me.

Despite all of the positives, I'd be remiss not to mention the harsh realities which face this country. I knew that conditions were difficult, but somehow, after spending time in Kenya and back in the US, everything felt more real. I knew, of course, how dry this region is. But breathing through the incessant veil of dust and trekking through trails of sand after a long reprieve really put the harsh environment into perspective.