While I've been here in the
Philippines, a common question asked of me is, “So how different
are we here from what you know?” Or they will ask me, “So how do
you find Filipinos?” They ask me to explain what I see as being
different about people and cultures between America and the
Philippines.
I often find myself groping for a
response, and stutter something about people here being so welcoming
and open, or coming up with minor responses, like not having hot
water on tap.
The truth is, there are some pretty big
adjustments to make. I will often sit in the faculty room and not
understand more than one word in twenty as the teachers talk among
themselves in either Tagalog or Ilocano. I can get tones of voices
and sometimes enough loaner words from English or Spanish to get a
sense of mood or the general topic, but I'm oftentimes cut out of the
conversation in a way that didn't tend to happen in the US. I have
gotten called a blond more times than I'd thought possible, and have
started pulling up pictures of other YASCers and pointing to, say,
Rachel or Sara and telling people here that that is blond, I'm a
red-head.
I'm getting used to the idiom, “let's
eat!” It means variable: it's a mealtime and you should go get
your food, I've got a snack and you should get one too, I'm eating
now, and finally, I'm eating now and I want to share my food with
you. If you haven't noticed yet, food is very communal here, even
more so than it would be in the US, and there really is the idea that
everyone should come together and eat. And while everyone is eating,
they should eat their fill! One of my first days at the school I
went to the canteen and got what I considered a good lunch: noodles,
veggies, even a bit of meat. I walked back up to the faculty room
and the principal walked by and asked me if all I was eating was a
snack!
So yes, there are differences in
culture and lifestyle here, and I definitely am still not used to
things like the traffic laws.
But what I keep stumbling when I try to
explain it to my questioners is, the more I'm here the more it feels
the same. There's some differences in culture and language, yes, and
they are important to try to understand. But overall, I'm just
reminded that people are still people, no matter where you are.
Schools run on more paperwork than we ever want to think about,
students will push limits en masse, but are really fun and normally
quite sweet one on one, the faculty will alternately cheer one
another on, play pranks on each other, and get irritated when the
others have reserved the equipment that they wanted to use for their
class. Teaching students overall is a mix between elation when
they're doing well and obviously listening to what you have to say,
and wanting to rip your hair out when you watch them ignore
everything you say and set themselves up to fail.
Sitting out in the open and knitting
attracts curious people staring and asking questions across the
world, especially when you are knitting something complicated or
impressive-looking. My sister's Christmas/Birthday present (If I get
it done in time), counts as both, and is a definite magnet for
interested students wanting to touch and look. A little yellow
duckie filled with bubble solution will make one suspicious
five-year-old light up and chatter like no tomorrow. The same bubble
solution is the best cure ever for a bunch of antsy toddler to
pre-school aged children who have traveled all day and are spending
the night in a strange new place.
Weddings are a mix of excitement and
stress for the bride's family until midway through the reception,
which is when everyone has either a let-down or a melt-down,
depending on age and personality. (Yes, the bride's family was
spending the weekend in the other rooms at the hostel where I live.
I spent so much time explaining to apologetic parents that I utterly
got two and three year olds having issues with so much going on and
overstimulating them.)
Funerals, even when you don't know the person involved and are coming along out of solidarity with other officials from the school, are sorrowful, and there is no one right thing to say to someone who is grieving.
There is more that unites us and our cultures than divides us. Americans or Filipinos, we're all still just humans.
Mom and I really enjoyed this one. We've herd the prose of most of these stories in Skype calls and e-mails, but this captures the poetry much better.
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