It's been raining since you left me, and now I'm drowning in the flood...

Post title because of the epic rainstorm (I had to build houses in the rain!), and because I still kinda miss the farm.

So since (and even before) going to the Enchanted Farm, my health census project has been kind of stalled for a variety of reasons. As a result, I've finally been able to do the oh-so-important task of manual labor, which is actually awesome because I wanted to have that kind of experience here. As I may have mentioned before, in my village, only 39 out of the 99 families have houses, most of which are still unfinished, so it was nice to be able to contribute.

The week before I went to the farm, my supervisor didn't come so I helped paint the rooftop of the school/community center being built. There are three planned floors, with two already made and one already in use. The first floor is Sibol. The second floor will be a computer center with computers donated from the sponsor. Telus is providing computer training so that the villagers can actually get jobs with the Telus company. I'm interested in how Canadian and American corporations approach foreign investment. This seems a lot less exploitative than how Americans seem to do it.

Construction in low-income areas, as I've mentioned before, is EXTREMELY dangerous. The workers don't have any protective gear, just jeans and a T-shirt. There are no nets or scaffolding, so you just have to be extra careful. It kinda looks like they're playing around on a jungle gym when they work, except if they fall, they die. I get really freaking nervous every time I watch them.

Dangerous!

So when I first went up there I thought I was just going to paint the lower beams, but it turned out they wanted me to paint the roof the roof. I'm not a fan of heights, but I got even more nervous when they brought out a rack thing that you could climb on, then hoisted four thin beams on it and tied them together. Then they told me that was my ladder.

WTF SO GHETTO.

As you can see from the pictures though, I eventually got over it, even though they kept making fun of me T_T Also, despite the “signature GK look” being all pretty and multicolored, the color they gave me was literally shit brown. Like, not even distinguished Brown University brown or whatever. Like, the color of eating something poorly cooked and then taking a dump afterwards. So now I have these shit brown stains on my Converse that I dunno if I can get out...fail.

Seeing how good of a manual laborer I am (and how much entertainment I provide the construction workers by being inept), Tita Sita and Tito Leno got me to aid with the actual construction of a house. Woot! Notably, although GK is based off of Habitat for Humanity,

the villagers are more involved in house construction than volunteers are. This is part of the whole GK “values training” psychology—by literally building your neighbor's house, you help contribute to a culture of interdependency and trust. They said volunteers don't really do this often, and I could completely see why. I was pretty much a liability. The work they gave me wasn't even hard and I kept fucking up anyway, and of course the language barrier when Pricky (the foreman, yes his name is Pricky) kept trying to teach me didn't help one bit.

People building houses from afar (this is actually the view from the top of the school). 

I also never got to see this side of the village and I don't think I interviewed the people who lived here for my survey. 

One of the families cooking pancit. They live in a temporary shelter (meaning her house has not yet been built), and this is their kitchen, which is outside the house.

I almost screamed when I saw these because I thought they were rats, but they're actually  really tiny cats.

The girl who lives here, plus the really tiny cats.

This is the construction area, where two new houses are being built. The above are pictures of the interior of a very unfinished house.

Pricky teaching me what to do. Basically the houses are made out of hollow concrete blocks that are really, really bumpy and hard to the touch, so I had to smooth over the exterior with concrete.

DAMN LOOK HOW PRO I AM.

Unlike on TV when they build houses philanthropically, this isn't the typical hoisting up pre-made walls and then just getting someone to nail them together. This was heavy duty concrete lifting >_o and concrete cementing, and other things that they made fun of me for not being able to do.

I swear to God I did not do this. Although I wish I did.

On Saturday we went to Telus II (the second Telus-sponsored village across town) with volunteers from Telus company to build houses. THIS WAS AWESOME. It was cool getting to see the other village, which looks totally different from mine. For some reason it looks happier—probably because of the open space and sunlight. It doesn't jump out and scream at you “OMG THIS IS A SLUM” like my village does, even though my village has nice buildings.

The pretty houses! The detail above the window is part of Gawad Kalinga's logo.

Half this street is still slummy. Interesting contrast.

Kids playing in the construction materials o_<

So first I assisted in the human chain, which was a fun workout. But then I wanted to paint. So we painted the exterior of these houses white.

Here's the interior of one of the houses which is unfinished, but finished enough so a person could start living there. Kinda reminds me of a loft cuz of the high ceiling, but that's because the second floor isn't built yet.

After lunch when it dried, they gave us multicolored paint with which to paint the houses.

Here's some Telus volunteers painting.

It was funny, because when I was painting the houses I suddenly got all fired up and emotional. Halfway into this trip, I still hadn't had that experience of “homecoming,” whatever that is. Part of this trip for me was to be able to come home, reconnect with my roots, but it occurred to me that I had no idea what that actually means and was now starting to think it's one of those things people just say to make their vacations sound less superficial.

I was ruminating upon what another Filipino friend who did something similar to GK last summer told me once, that since his trip was also kind of a homecoming, so he was constantly reminded of how he had a special obligation to share the story of the villagers and come back to rebuild his home country. Of course, I never got anything like that. I get a lot of comments about how beautiful I am, which is nice, until I realize it's because I don't look Filipino (oh colonial mentality). I also get a lot of people asking me if I'm from Korea, Taiwan, or Japan. I also remember continuously talking in IAS 105 about how important my practice experience was to me because it's a homeland trip, and foolishly not expecting people here would not feel the same. And of course I kept just trying to dismiss my disappointment, because it's just indulgent to wake up in the morning and be like “Hmm, what can these villagers do today to make me feel more Filipino?”

But anyway, when I was painting the house it dawned on me that I was LITERALLY building the homeland, and I couldn't fuck this up or half-ass the job because it was something I'd wanted for so long, and it might not make me a revolutionary hero but even now I've done more for the Philippines than the spoiled-ass Filipino Americans my parents wanted me to grow up to be like. It was like one big fuck you to anyone who ever told me I didn't belong, or asked me if I really thought my Tagalog was good or where I was able to learn Tagalog in Korea or whatever foreigner bullshit. And I think everyone thought I was fucking crazy for not wanting to leave until I had finished but they had no idea how gung ho I was getting and why LOL. The woman whose house I was building kept giving me treats though. I don't remember her name but I know I'm never gonna forget her.

Me painting.

How much I had painted by the end.

The doorway I painted.

I'm actually going to wrap this up now because I have to go build more houses, but expect more posts with pictures of the Philippine countryside (which I finally got pictures of!) and BORA (if I make it there. Stupid fucking typhoon.)

I'm on a farm, trick

Warning: Long post. Also, after seeing views from the Philippines on my stats (that are not from my computer, and yes I check my blog stats religiously, because I need continuous affirmation that people actually read my blog), I realized that I unfortunately need to be more discreet about my blogging, because I've been rather generous with the URL in a desperate attempt to publicize this blog. This also affects when I'm going to stop being sarcastic and more personal, which will probably happen less often now. You can talk to me via Gchat or AIM if you want to hear what didn't make the cutting room floor! ;]

So after two weeks of chasing after people for interviews and doing tedious data entry work in the city, I decided to make my life here more exciting by roughing it in a farm in the jungle for 3 days. As dirty and eaten-alive I became, GK Enchanted Farm was FUCKING EPIC! Unfortunately I didn't really know what I was getting into and didn't come fully prepared, and I didn't really make the most out of my visit as I could have (in terms of doing hands-on work and learning and shit), but I still have time left here so obviously I'll be back x] And I made up for all the deficiencies in labor productivity with knowledge productivity anyway, so w00t to that.

Anyway, on Monday morning I went to Ateneo de Manila University to get picked up by the Ghetto Van (not the Ghetto Bus) to go to the Enchanted Farm in Bulacan, a rural province about an hour away. The Enchanted Farm is special because it's the first ever GK village, and the only one to have moved on from Phase I of the development model (construction and getting the village set up) to Phase II (self-sufficiency and entrepreneurship). Tito Tony (the founder of GK) visits often, and has this grand master plan for the village, including creating all these luxury enterprises to stimulate the rural economy. Very ambitious stuff.

Here's the Ghetto Van we drove in.

And here is the door, which would not close, so we had to tie it almost-shut. This confused a lot of people the entire time.

On the way, we passed a statue of what I want to say is the Katipunan. Sick!

I found this kind of interesting. This was the sign of a Chinese-owned plastic goods wholesaler at which we stopped. If this was in the U.S., you probably wouldn't hesitate to call this out as a racial stereotype. But does it have the same connotation and context in the Philippines? To my knowledge, similar racist caricatures were never used to dehumanize the Chinese in the Philippines, but then again the Philippines was a U.S. colony (and still very much resembles one in many respects). It's funny, though, because the Chinese were never considered coolies here like they were in the U.S., but rather occupied a privileged middleman position.

So sadly, I didn't take a bunch of pictures on the way there because I was too busy marveling and listening to stereotypical island music (well not that stereotypical, it wasn't Bob Marley). But the Philippine countryside is GORGEOUS. The scenery is seriously unlike anything I've ever seen before. I kind of had that feeling of being really lucky to get to see something like that.

Once we got to the farm, I was greeted by Frederick, an intern from Malaysia whom I met at CSI Night (Tuesday night presentations at Ateneo about social entrepreneurial things). I also got to meet Jai (my painfully shy roommate), Danielle, Julian, Jacob, and Crystal (Filipino Canadian siblings), and the Frenchies. I can't recall their names off the top of my head at the moment (I didn't learn some of their names, actually...), but I could probably identify them in my pictures. It's nice to be around other foreign volunteers, because you have someone to share the experience with (rather than when you're the only foreigner in the village like I am and you don't really have anyone to empathize with you).

Anyway, here's some pictures of the farm.

Tita Cory's garden. I didn't get to meet Tita Cory, unless she's actually really some profound metaphor that is significant enough to have the whole garden named after her. This was the walkway to my dorm.

The village houses.

One of the huts! No, nobody lives there. They're just spots where people chill. When we first got here, we chilled in a hut and I tried to set the mood by playing island music. Then everybody told me to shut up. :( 

The well. I dunno if it's up and running yet. It probably isn't, considering almost every faucet does not actually work. Tabo showers ftw! And yes, I had to take tabo showers (which is a misnomer. Basically I bathed by pouring water over myself with a container thing), which were horribly inadequate given the weather, amount of bugs, and my skin condition. We also had to go to a separate outhouse to shower, where Julian met two of his new friends, a frog and a spider the size of his fist. YEAH ROUGHING IT ON A FARM. 

The multipurpose hall. This is basically just a big community space.

This is the long-term plan for the farm; they want to make it into a self-sustaining village/internship and research base/tourist attraction. Very ambitious plans.

The farm area. People here farm for self-sustainable living. Apparently, volunteering in this is the dumps.

Women planting citronella, used for extremely strong insect repellent that smells like B.O.

People building the road.

The sunflower path! This leads to the animals, and the undeveloped bed and breakfast area.

Julian and Crystal on the swinging bench thing.

The treehouse!! I like fell in love with it. It made me wish I had a treehouse growing up. Sucks growing up in the city sometimes.

My bed in the dorm! And by dorm, they really meant a cabin in the woods with six beds and a bathroom with no running water. Mosquito nets are the shieeet (and as you can see, are very romantic-looking), unless mosquitoes get caught INSIDE the net, which completely defeats the purpose.

Basically, we did nothing productive on Monday except walk around, because we were too tired from the 45 minute Ghetto Van ride to get food at Walter Mart.

All of us in the van! We separated from the Frenchies once we got to Walter Mart, though. Freaking Frederick told me we were going to watch Harry Potter. Meanie butt :(

Okay, this picture is pretty blurry because the waitress takes horrible pictures, but it's all of us at Chow King (Jai is in the back hiding). It's John the African guy, Frederick, Danielle, me, Julian, Jacob, and Crystal.

Everyone minus me, because I actually take okay pictures. >:[

John is from Madagascar, and it was his first time trying halo-halo. He was SOOO scared we were going to give him balut and tell him it was ice cream. When we were trying to convince him to get it he kept being like “This better not have a chick inside it!!!” Pretty great.

Us being awesomely immature :] I did the Jollibee wordsearch thing on the placemats and then I was like “It's fun circling words that are dirty” after circling the word “lube” (which was in like a deformed L shape because lube wasn't actually in there all perfectly). Then all of a sudden Julian goes “Look! Porn!” and we were like OH SHIT YEAHH! I have a feeling that was just inserted in there to amuse sophomoric college kids who might be looking at the placemat.

After we got back, we explored the rest of the farm, including the animals.

PIGS! YES so awesome. Unfortunately, these pigs are going to Piggy Heaven sometime soon...they've already been ordered :( We got to feed the pigs the day afterwards, too.

The goats! I was really afraid they were going to attack me, but the kids go up to them and pet them like all the time. Is it weird that every time I saw them, I thought about that Grab the Devil By the Horns and Fuck Him Up the Ass song? 

As you can see, the farm is unbelievably gorgeous. This swamp thing was across from an unfinished bed and breakfast that is not going to be built until they get sponsors. That was one of the sad things, the farm is filled with unfinished projects that need corporate sponsors.

ME AND MY JUNGLE KINGDOM!

So later at night, we just had this karaoke party for like no reason in particular (possibly because it was Frederick's last day?), and it went on for hooooours. I rocked almost every rap song in the crappy song selection :D Everyone wanted to sing tribute songs to Frederick cuz it was his last day, including Always by Bon Jovi (apparently the Frenchies' favorite song), which has since been stuck in my head. So exhausting, it's like do Filipinos ever stop karaoke? (The answer is no. The karaoke machine just stayed there for a couple more days and people would just come and sing whenever.)

Afterwards (and unfortunately I don't have pictures of this, I was way too tired) we had a little drinking party in the cabin with two handles of vodka, ONE bottle of Sprite O_O; and this GODAWFUL Filipino sugarcane drink that Frederick got at Walter Mart. Drinking with Frenchies is fucking hilarious, because French people are already hilarious, and it makes things even more fun when they say funny drunk things in their French accents. This one kid, Nono (apparently nobody could pronounce his name, so people were just calling him Kuya Nono) kept taking swigs out of the vodka until he was basically gone but kept trying to convince us/himself he was not drunk LOL. Then everybody had to take a capful (not even a shot. A capful) of the horrible sugarcane drink, which tasted like liquid permanent marker. We also played really ridiculous drinking games like “Wip Wop,” which is a game where everyone goes around in a circle and has to say either “wip” or “wop.” If someone says “wop,” it reverses directions. If you mess up, you have to drink. For some reason, nobody understood the game and we had to explain it like 20 times, which I don't get because the game pretty much only had one rule.

We also had to be REALLY quiet because they got in trouble like a day earlier, and there were soldiers (who were helping build the road) sleeping in the room next to us, and we kept thinking if we didn't keep really quiet they would come in with AK47s LOL.

-_- Later on, after we were sleeping (it was me, Frederick, Jai, and Danielle who was locked out of her host family's house), there was this really annoying alarm that wouldn't STFU at 3 AM, so I went down to see whose it was (maybe I had an alarm on my phone that I didn't know about), and it turned out to be Julian's phone that he LEFT in our room. Even worse was that it had a FUCKING PASSCODE so we couldn't turn it off, so we just had to keep snoozing it every 2 minutes. That was awfuuuuuul.

The next morning, we helped out in the Sibol school from hell.

DON'T LET THESE INNOCENT FACES FOOL YOU. These kids were IMPOSSIBLE to control. During the lesson, storytime, etc. all they did was jump up and down on the desks, and a lot of them were really fascinated with my hair, which made me feel really bad for being there. Things went pretty rapidly from “Please everybody sit down and listen to the teacher! ^-^” to “Okay guys, I really don't want to have to ask you again...” to “ALL OF YOU NEED TO SIT DOWN AND SHUT UP. RIGHT NOW.” and of course they thought it was funny, like “Hee hee, we made Ate angry!! ^-^”

Oyyy vey. -_-+

Another noteworthy thing was that, unlike my village (which is in Metro Manila), these kids (and many of the families as well) are miles away from civilization and thus aren't regularly exposed to English, which as Crystal noted did not help disciplining them one bit LOL. They got Danielle to do storytime, but she only read to them in Tagalog because it wouldn't make much sense to read to them in English as well (unlike when I did storytime in Masagana Sibol ^-^).

Cute cute!

During storytime many of the kids demanded that Jacob play with them and I take pictures of them. I indulged this...in hindsight, I feel rather bad about it. They should've been paying attention.

So afterwards was lunch, except Tita Brenda (the Sibol teacher) talked our ears off for like an hour. I got to the point of getting Tagalog fatigue...that is, when you're so tired out of hearing Tagalog and trying to decode it in your head that you just stop understanding it. Apparently what she was saying was pretty cool though, like about how initially they had no money to buy books so she made all the books herself, one of which she showed us. Super rad.

This kid kept calling everyone pangit. Of course, I replied with the very intelligent and mature, "YOU'RE pangit." 

The karaoke machine is out all the fucking time, so there's always music. Here are some of the French guys singing Barbie Girl. The guy in the white is Nono and the guy in the red is Bertrand. I forgot the name of the guy in purple, but he taught me how to say “Whore of the whorehouse of shit!” in French (in return, I taught him how to say “Die shitting!” in Japanese. Isn't cultural exchange fabulous??). I never really got the name of the guy holding the mic, but I know it sounds like otona （大人）. I remembered it because I thought he looked like an adult. He completely beat my ass at Egyptian Rat Screw (which I found out in France is called Corsican Battle).

Jerric, one of the uncontrollable Sibol kids. The following is a demonstration of how we punish naughty schoolchildren.

After lunch and a rather heated card game session (during which I voluntarily took a shot of soy sauce) I went to go watch basket weaving. So according to Tito Tony (the GK founder, whom I met at the farm), in urban slum villages like mine, people at least have access to jobs. There was virtually no prior economy here, so part of their activity is to create jobs. GK (through corporate sponsorship) gives the farm villagers an allowance, for which they make basket products, carpentry, sell livestock, brew tea, etc.

HOW FUCKING AWESOME IS THIS??? It's a rocking chair made entirely of basket material, and it cost around $47.81. In the U.S. that shit would cost probably $200-300.

This baby's name is LG, which stands for Lovely Joyce, except Joyce isn't spelled with a G. Or maybe they made it work, somehow. Wonder how she feels being named after a phone :P

Afterwards, we went to the swing, which I was way too scared to try. Basically, there's a rope tied to a tree over a swampy area and you just jump onto the rope and swing back and forth.

Crazy little girl swinging!

Really pro Filipino kid swinging.

Bertrand swinging! In the end I was the only one of our group NOT to try the swing, but I really want to eventually, since my dad said it was one of his favorite things to do growing up and I was trying to “get back to my roots” or whatever.

We didn't do anything for the rest of the night, but in the morning I made benches for the Sibol school. So cool!

This is a horrible picture of me but LOOK HOW GREAT OF A CARPENTER I AM!

John's beautification project. This is completely unrelated but I didn't know where else to put these pictures.

Hard at work!

So then literally while having lunch and planning to stay an extra night because it was Jacob's birthday, they told me the porter was here and it was time to leave. Whaaaaaat. So I'm back here with running water and furious eczema from the farm (hehe you probably didn't need to know that) but I miss it hella already! Will try to go back before I leave and finally try that freaking swing. Also I need to get to work on posts because all this happened a week ago D: Till next time!

And finally, here's some random replica of the Eiffel Tower somebody made in Bulacan.