Typhoons, Falling Mangos, and Identity

I survived my first typhoon.

Sunday, my second night in the PI, I awoke to hear random loud noises banging on the roof and the roar of the wind that I have never heard before. It was a typhoon. I found out later from my uncle that the random banging noise was mangos falling from the tree.

I awoke in the morning to find two of my cousins still splashing in the pool in the back. There's a typhoon. They're in a pool. I stared at them for a few minutes and discovered, apparently, this is not unusual. I certainly do not want to disrespect their leisure activities, but I wanted to yell, "Dude - there's a TYPHOON going on. Get out of the pool!"

The typhoon flooded many parts of Manila and surrounding provinces, but the area I am in was fine, except for trees falling, and my first brownout (when all the electricity goes out). I love that they call them brownouts instead of blackouts.

I went to church with my uncle that morning and sat in a big beautiful church. During the petitions the electricity went out and the roar of the wind got even louder. It phased no one. Well, except me. My eyes darted to the open windows and swaying chandeliers. My prayers were fervent.

On Monday, my cousins dropped me off at my dormitory at the University of the Philippines (UP) where I met the other members of the group. It was then I heard that 4 others dropped out at last minute and there was only 9 of us total. Only one is male. Phillipe is on this trip with 8 other women, ages 18-35. It's quite a mix, but we get along fantastically. Navigating the city and UP is always an adventure.
Our orientation consisted of reviewing our schedules and getting our bearings of the campus. The group teases me incessantly by saying I am too uptight about germs, safety, and cleanliness. I packed up my laptop and camera with me everywhere we go. (Hello, like I would leave my digital SLR anywhere without me?) I don't drink the ice, tap water, or eat salads in the restaurants. They laugh and say I'm paranoid. I just shake my head when they drink the tap water with ice. If they knew what a parasite in your stomach feels like that won't leave for 3 days, they wouldn't be so careless. I went through that seven years ago and some days I believe I have not yet psychologically recovered from how many trips to the bathroom I made in a 3-day span.

I went to Nicaragua for three months in 2000 and returned twice since then. My experiences there are affording me invaluable knowledge and confidence as I navigate a new country with similar economic struggles and political history. The PI is a tropical country with beautiful landscapes and people. Their problems, as I am learning, are complex and interrelated to the US and its policies. Today was our first day of lectures and classes and the intellectual stimulation has been remarkable. The classes are taught by world renowned poets, top professors, and experienced sociologists who keep me writing, thinking, and questioning. I am finding this experience to be as transformative as I had hoped, and it's only been the first day of class!

Last night, the group went to the Mall of Asia, which is, as you can guess, the largest mall in all of Asia - what creativity went into naming this place! The PI is ironically known for its gigantic malls and commercialization, but I wasn't ready for the mall of Asia. It was so enormous, there's no way to describe it over a computer. Inside, I was able to exchange money, 43 pesos for every dollar. As you can imagine, the dollar goes a long way. It took forever to get a taxi, but when we got a driver, it cost $5 for a 15-20 minute drive. There were five of us in the car. My Boston ears couldn't believe it. I nearly flipped with joy. A ten minute ride in Boston is nearly $30!

UP is a huge campus and we took a tour, by foot, that covered about a quarter of the campus and three hours of our lives. I nearly fell asleep in the grass by the end. The heat is hard to transition, even though it was summer in the US when I left, being this close to the equator is something else. Kris, another member of the group, and I were up at 6am (not unusual when the sun rises so early) and went for a light jog. We weren't even jogging for 10 minutes when we looked at each other and saw that we were drenched in sweat. Our legs looked like faucets and our arms like brown Slip and Slides. But, it felt good to get some fitness in our day. It's waaaaay too easy to sit in our air conditioned rooms after eating a wonderful meal for $1.25.

On Friday, we'll be moving into our apartments, which are a few minutes off campus. There we will have WIFI and a land line. We're all eager to have regular internet access. Everyone can tell we're from the US when we ask people where we can set up our laptops to check our emails and blog about our travels.

I am pretty much adjusted to the time change, but not quite yet. I'm sleeping well, but wake up once or twice to itch my bug bites. I wake up relatively early, sometime between 5am-6am. (Nick probably read that sentence twice.) I'm VERY ready to get into my apartment, unpack and have my own permanent space. (Err, permanent means the next 6 weeks). The more I am exposed to, the more I am learning, the more 6 weeks seems so brief. There's so much beauty and richness to this country and I'm so proud this is my parents' homeland. And I give myself a pat on my back for having made this pilgrimage myself.

Growing up Filipino in the US, a child of immigration, is an in-depth consuming journey of self-identity. It encompasses constant reflection and self-analysis. It is quite an remarkable experience to be in a country where I look just like everyone else. The reflection of myself in this country is...what's the right word?....unfathomable. It is the experience I have been waiting for and wanting my entire life: to passionately understand with clarity and awareness, who I am, who my family is, and where I have come from. Few are able to make a journey such as this. Few even ask questions such as this. I feel very graced and blessed to experience this. The questions that I have held, long in my heart, are surfacing each minute I am here.

I am finding myself.