Reason 5: To Be A Celebrity

As a foreigner, particularly a “kano” (Tagalog shorthand for the Spanish word Americano), I enjoy something akin to celebrity status here in Philippines. Strangers frequently shake my hand, ask to take photos with me, and even dangle babies at me for reasons I’ve yet to determine. I even get less forceful pat-downs than locals when I go shopping (security guards are a common fixture at the entrances to most stores). Isn’t life grand?

Of course, as any tabloid will tell you, celebrity has its problems too.

For one, my life is an open book to perfect strangers; the smallest details of my day are public knowledge. If I eat somewhere new for lunch, my supervisor will be discussing it by the time I return to work. If I move to a new address, by the following day the college president will ask me how I like my new house. And this happens without my ever having to say a word. Now that’s convenient!

So, drinking a Pepsi Blue are we?
I’ll be sure to report this to the Governor!

But one of the strangest things about living abroad is the unaccountable popularity of media from the United States. And when my life history is assumed to be an episode of the OC, there are bound to be some let downs.

The popularity of U.S. media here also results in my being compared to famous actors and musicians from The States. Perhaps this phenomenon has been exacerbated by the presence of a U.S. Military base in Subic Bay up until the early 90’s—or has resulted from the large number of overseas Filipino workers living in the United States—but here in Olongapo City, I’m lucky to make it through the day without being compared to at least one celebrity.

So with no further ado, and to wrap up this blog post, why not play a round of:

Who Has Kevin Been Compared To?

On occasion, celebrity comparisons can be flattering:

Yes, the urge to compare me to 90’s grunge musician Kurt Cobain has persisted across culture, time, and 3,000 miles of ocean. It seems that picking up a guitar is the only sure fire way to demonstrate that I am, in fact, not a legendary rock icon.

At least 20 years my senior, Brad Pitt has persisted as a sex symbol and being compared to him isn’t all bad. That said, I would just once like to hear it from someone other than a 40 year-old man.

By the rings of Sauron! Before my beard (and quite possibly the motive force behind my decision to grow one), my students frequently compared me to Orlando Bloom—or rather his portrayal of Legolas in “The Lord of the Rings”. Now that I have a beard, I’m nervously awaiting a Gimli comparison.

When I am recognized (or rather go unrecognized) as just another non-famous U.S. citizen, my membership to one of several groups is instantly assumed:

Despite my long hair and bedraggled appearance, when they see me in the street strangers (particularly of the older, drunken variety) invariably holler the name “Joe”—a reference to American G.I.s who occupied the Philippines during the second world war. This appellation is so common, in fact, that I was even warned about it during Peace Corps training.

Okay, the assumption that I’m a wealthy tourist is valid and much more on the mark than other assumptions; I wear strange clothes, fumble through the local language, and wear a confused expression 90% of the time. But it sure is taking a lot longer than I’d hoped for venders to recognize me as a Peace Corps Volunteer (A.K.A.: “poor”).

A Mormon Missionary? I just don’t know what to say to that.

And, of course, sometimes the comparisons get downright weird:

Okay, so I've never been referred to as Marylin Monroe specifically. But, two men did once refer to me as a “beautiful woman” either in jest, or as the result of severe nearsightedness.

In what I think is a reference to a Filipino television show featuring a laboratory-grown, mentally ill (but surprisingly hunky) man with a heart of gold, children repeatedly chant “Budoy” whenever I am around. Disturbing, to say the least.

And the most bizarre comparison has to have been a reference to Jeremy Reed, the electricity conducting, albino character with alopecia from the 1995 movie “Powder”. I guess I need to get that fork out of the wall outlet and spend a little more time in the sun.

On that note, and until next month...

Palaam!

P.S. It’s November and while a vegan thanksgiving is far beyond my reach at the moment, I did receive a spectacular package from my Aunt a few days ago filled with lots of goodies, including vegan peanut butter cups, candy, and cashews. So, don’t worry: I’ll still be having a delicious, if slightly unconventional, Thanksgiving feast.

Reason 4: To Face Reality

Four months ago—a hazy time I now think of as the long, long ago—I had yet to leave one of the wealthiest countries in the world, the United States, and my favorite past time was imagining all of the ups and downs I would face while living in a new and foreign country. Fast forward a few months and here I am, living those ups and downs.

Some difficulties are standard Peace Corps fare, and I’m not surprised to find them here in the Philippines. The absence of hot showers, quality Mexican food, and toilet paper for instance, have all been unpleasant but not wholly unexpected. In fact, I find myself coping with the loss of these luxuries fairly well.

But what surprises me most about life in the Philippines are the trials and tribulations that are unique to this place. As a country that stands wedged between the Eastern and Western worlds—a country dominated by the Spanish, ravaged by the Japanese, and recently emancipated from a tumultuous period of stewardship by the Unites States—the Philippines is a land of contradictions.

Gripped by poverty, a swelling population, and political corruption, the Philippines is also host to an astonishing array of megamalls, including (or so I’ve heard) one of the world’s largest malls, The Mall of Asia. Professionals, laborers, and abandoned street children all walk together each day along the same crowded streets. And in a land that stresses the importance of family, one of the largest contributions to the country’s financial sector comes from the earnings of overseas workers who work abroad without seeing family or friends for periods lasting several years.

A picture of my recent excursion to a smaller, but still gigantic mall in the nearby province of Pampanga.

This last month has been on of reflection for me, and all of the challenges that face the Philippines can at times seem insurmountable for one confused Peace Corps volunteer to handle. But, some part of me knows that this period of deep ambivalence is just part of the adjustment process; afterall, I have a lot to be thankful for.

I’ve enjoyed getting to know locals and my fellow volunteers, I no longer get lost wandering the city, and I have shaken hands with Mayor “Bong” Gordon on more than one occasion. In fact, despite having only spent a little over a month in Olongapo, I’ve even had a few successes at work: I've taught a few English classes, volunteered at a center for girls, and even managed to offer a series of trust building games at a Boy Scout camp.

But, so far the conditions here are still putting a damper on my spirits., making it difficult for me to “settle in”. That said, November is a new month and I hope to find happier, less equivocal times over the horizon.

So, until next month...

Palaam!

Reason 3: To Hear Foreign Swear Words

Whew! After 11 weeks of training, my time as a "trainee" is at an end. 

Pictured: my training cluster (minus one) and I dressed to the nines. Not-pictured: my last minute panicked search for help when I realized I didn't know how to tie a tie.

On September 16th, 2011, I officially swore in as an official, bona fide Peace Corp Volunteer (officially). I can honestly say that this is the first time I've ever been excited to work my way up to a position where I didn't receive a paycheck and, despite a 40 hour work week, was refereed to as a "volunteer". Still worth it, I think.

For those interested (i.e. relatives who are contractually obligated to care), a recording of the swearing-in ceremony can be found below:

And much like the movie "Fight Club" if you look closely you'll see scantily clad figures spliced in throughout the ceremony.

From culture shock to learning a new language to working on the weekends (sacrilege!) training was quite the ordeal. But as my TCF (Technical and Cultural Facilitator) liked to say, "Which is more cruel? Boot camp, or sending troops into battle unprepared?"

Wise words, though I had hoped the "Peace Corps" wouldn't involve any cruelty at all.

Pictured above my TCF, looking unusually godlike.

Still I have to admit, despite my constant complaining, thanks to my TCF and LCF (Language and Cultural Facilitator) I feel ready to live in a foreign country for the next two years. And when I look back on training, I realize that I've accomplished a lot:

I've learned to carry an umbrella at all times (because typhoons are sneaky).

My LCF and I warding off invisible raindrops.

I've hiked through the bamboo jungle of Pamulaklakin, quenching my thirst with nothing save the water from tree vines and my water bottle. 

Hydration tip: swallowing a stick will distract you from the fact that you are painfully dehydrated.

I've witnessed (and in some cases climbed up inside of) landmarks dedicated to the shared history of the United States and the Philippines, including the WWII memorial cross at the top of Mount Samat in Bataan.

Although, the lack of a 50-story Jesus was disappointing.

I've even studied anatomy in the national language of the Philippines, Tagalog.

 

  Now, if only we could get her to take the labels off... 

I've seen deprived Peace Corps Volunteers tear apart a pizza the size of a small family like cheese-starved jackals. 

  

 My apologies to Julie and Catherine, both of whom are unfairly depicted here as cheese-starved jackals.

And most amazingly of all, I've danced the traditional Filipino bamboo dance, Tinikling, on-stage in front of more than a thousand people. To this day, I'm still not sure what happened to make me do this. But I'm glad I did.

If dancing on stage doesn't show a readiness to meet all the challenges of Peace Corps service, I don't know what does.

So, with all this training under my belt (which has a few new notches thanks to the healthy, vegan, Filipino Cuisine I've been eating), I'm ready to head off to my permanent site. And though I have a bitter-sweet goodbye to say to all the other trainees (now volunteers) that have made training a blast, right now I feel like celebrating!

So, until next month...

Palaam!