Cultural Sponge

I don't know if Shannon planned on this week being a total immersion in Filipino history and culture, but that is what it feels like.  We spend our days running around the city, hitting up historical landmarks and catching all different sorts of public transportation.  For the first time in my life, I paid to use a public bathroom. The selfie-less year ended with a bang at the Selfie Museum.  (To be fair, Shannon took pictures of me. So, technically, the pictures taken there were not actually selfies.)  After our jam-packed days, I do my best to journal as much as I can remember.

With that said, I'm reminded to be grateful for this season of fun.  The next step looms just on the horizon.  But godliness with contentment is great gain. Tomorrow will be able to handle her own worries; today is for basking in the very sticky, smoggy Manila sun.

You Can Take the Girl Out of the Country...

After a ten-day trip to Manila and blessings too numerous to count, I was more than ready to return to the quiet life in our village.  How could that be?  My theory is, no matter where I go or choose to live, I was born and bred in the middle of nowhere, so that is where I will always feel the most at ease.  City life, with all its convenience, is nothing short of exhausting.  There are always people around; the noise never sinks below a dull roar.  The hustle and bustle is fun for a while, then it's a relief when it's over.

Video chatting was definitely the biggest plus to our stay in Manila.  I got to see my Ohio family for the first time since October and my New York family for the first time since Christmas.  It felt wonderful to catch up on each others' lives, to hear one another laugh, to ramble on in comfortable (and comforting) conversation.

Oddly, the video chats might have been one of the more difficult parts at the same time.  It is one thing to live isolated from your loved ones with small, infrequent messages.  It is another experience entirely to visually and audibly interact with them without any means of physical expression of love or joy.  Try as we might, we cannot squeeze air with all the strength in our arms.  Our heads cannot rest on shoulders over 8,000 miles away.  Kissing air is the same as not kissing at all.  Loneliness that had been held at bay by distance, came crashing in.

Even in the midst of all these emotions, I could not say that I regret the decisions that brought me here.  I long to be home, but I dread the day I have to leave.  That's the trouble with giving your all wherever you go.  I have a sneaking suspicion it is all going to be worth it, though, and that gives me hope for whatever God has next.

Another top experience was FOOD.  Vegan or not, I've always been such a foodie.  As a vegan, I particularly enjoy food of the green persuasion.  Rest assured that I'm no longer grumbling in my heart, but God saw fit to give me some veggie-goodness anyway.  Believe me when I say I pounded that rabbit food.  I horked those suckers down till my stomach distended into a mound that resembled three months of pregnancy.  Spinach, corn, artichoke, roasted red peppers, cabbage, broccoli, snow peas, cauliflower, pineapple salsa, mushrooms... I went to town (literally and proverbially).  Not to mention other goodies like freshly roasted peanuts with salt and garlic.  Or kutsinta and kakanin, also known as some of the best varieties of sticky rice cakes ever created.  Food might have hijacked my Instagram for a couple days to say the least.

Other experiences were newer and took longer to process.  Over our time in Manila, we caught multiple jeepneys.  My favorite jeepney ride took place later one evening.  Shannon and I caught went to get some last minute supplies, namely frozen berries and soy milk. The guy at S&R packed up our spoils, but he put all of the soy milk in the flimsier of the two bags.  All was well until we went to get off the jeep and the handles of the bag came away in my hands, sending the soy milk straight to the pavement.  Thankfully, nothing broke and I was able to carry the handle-less bag back to our room on my shoulder.

One day, our taxi driver seemed unable to keep his opinions to himself.  Shannon told him we were Canadian, rather than explaining that I was an American.  THANK GOD!  This guy spent the next good chunk of our drive telling us how much he hated Americans, how America stole all of the Filipino silver and copper, and how much he loves the Filipino president and his choices.  Now, I have nothing against patriotism, and I felt he was entitled to his own opinion.  That being said, I have never been more stressed out during a conversation in my life.  Eventually, he got tired of speaking politics and turned his attention to religion.  While his questions may have been designed to give himself more speaking time, Shannon was still able to share the gospel with the guy.  All in all, I'd call that a win.

The entire trip could boil down to a muddle of malls, department stores, stalls, scents, and sights.  I'm thankful for the opportunity to meet other missionaries at the guest house.   The walking and shopping facilitated building stronger relationships between my host family and I.  Sure, we're all as exhausted as ever, but we're living with purpose and joy.  I, for one, would trade a good night's sleep for daily purpose any day of the week.

With all that said, I'll add some pictures next.  March out.  April, bring it on.

Hunting and Exploring

In a couple days, some of us adult ladies will be heading to Manila for some appointments and odd supplies.  We will be out of the village for some ten days, while rest of the family will remain here.  The kids are excited because this means they will get a two week break from school.  I'm excited because this means I will get to FaceTime with my family back home.

One of the things we need to do while we're in the city is search for art supplies.  I will be "teaching" (though in art, I feel it's more like guiding than anything) two of the high school age girls through a homeschooling art curriculum.  I made a supply list on Wednesday and set out to find what we already have, so we don't purchase anything unnecessary.  Thursday night, I'm going through the final drawer and lo!  Gary the Cockroach twitched his nasty little antennae at me from his nestled position between the molding clay and finger paints.  The molding clay was my objective, but there was no way I was going to reach for it with Gary just chilling there.  As I debated my options, Gary waved farewell and crawled deeper into the recesses of the drawer.  That made my decision for me.  I shut the drawer and went up to bed.

Friday morning, I announced to S and J that we would be going on a hunt after our morning lessons.  True to my word, once snack had been consumed, S was armed with a fly swatter and J was bequeathed a bottle of Baygon.  We opened the drawer with due apprehension.  One deep breath.  Two deep breaths.  Eventually, winged by my fearless cockroach slayers, I began to unpack the drawer.  The results?  A whole lot of cockroach poo and rock solid molding clay.  At this very moment, Gary is at large.  The only questions is where?

A couple of us have started going on an early morning walk every Saturday.  It's enjoyable for a number of reasons: it gets us out in the sun and fresh air, we become more familiar with the land around us, fellowship...  Needless to say, walking in the morning has become something I look forward to all week long.  This week, we took a familiar path out, but a new ridge path back.  All was well until we reach the end of the loop, where we were met by a lovely standing pool that looked to be about 5/8 water buffalo poop.  With many laughs, groans, and helping hands, we technically made it across.  Sufficed to say we needed to rinse in the river before we made it home.

Each passing day brings a new lesson, picture, or idea.  Whole pockets of flowers hidden from view in the bush praise God with their beauty.  A mother water buffalo protects her young by chasing the strange white people away.  A little pineapple sprouts from a plant beside the river.  Piglets are born.  It seems to me that the details might make a difference after all.  Maybe it just depends on the details I choose to focus on.

When The Orange Flower Blooms

Seventy years ago, the village I am currently living in and the surrounding villages would watch for a certain tree to blossom.  Rainy season would creep toward its slow end and then, sprinkled like bright beacons over the low ridges, little orange flowers exploded into color.  When this happened, they knew head-hunting season had begun.

I'm told it was a rite of passage into manhood.  When a boy brought back his first head from a warring village, he returned a man in the eyes of his people.  Today, no signs of their violent past remain.  The people don't speak of it.  "We are ashamed of what we were," they say.  "Why would we talk about it?"  The old ways seem especially forgotten when, despite the orange flowers staring down from the treetops, we hike freely from one village to the next.  We hike through corn ready for harvest and green rice fields, past flowering bananas and loaded coconut trees.  Every now and then, we catch sight of another tree with orange blooms.  It is a great reminder of where God finds each of us, especially as the missionaries here prepare to share the full gospel with this people for the first time.

God has also been reminding me of His great love through a seemingly endless stream of blessings:

1) Just as I was hitting a slump of "Yeah, I'm ready for a spinach salad, a Chipotle burrito, and a nice HOT bath," I received a package from home.  Of course, the package didn't bring a spinach salad or a burrito or a bath, but it DID have lots of love and cream of wheat inside. 

2)  Then, I received and account statement from the office and discovered a very generous monetary gift.  I inquired after who sent it, but no one seems to know!  My hope is that, whoever you are, you read this and know I am extremely thankful!  God bless you and yours! 

3)  Yet another blessing came my way just yesterday.  When I packed up and moved to the Philippines, I had a pipe dream of learning the local language.  As of yesterday, I am officially in part-time language study!  Realistically, I know that I won't become anywhere near fluent in the seven months I have left, but I'm stoked to learn what I can.  It is a humongous blessing to have the people helping me take time out of their busy schedules to learn a language I may never use again, just because I want to learn.

All in all, I'm a slightly snuffly, yet very happy camper!

TTFN (Ta-Ta For Now!)