I have created a PDF Visual Packing Aid for Batch 270 Female Volunteers coming to the Philippines on July 1st! Hope this helps.

At any given time during our Peace Corps service, we all fall victim every now and then to a lack of inspiration. A well thought out lesson plan falls flat. A misunderstanding with a counterpart leaves us feeling defeated. A bad day for no particular reason makes us question our purpose as a volunteer. For some, these moments are fleeting, for others, they last a little bit longer. We all have different ways of dealing with these feelings and have moments in our service that equally pick us back up.

Here is one of mine.

Due to a slow pace at work this month, I’ve had maybe a little too much time to think. And what have I been thinking about? Life.

I know! Way too deep, but try to bear with me.

The anniversary of my friend’s passing was surrounded by four other deaths of young people who were friends of friends.  Although I didn’t know any of them personally, I felt drawn to their stories. Facebook comments recalling memories, how wonderful these people were, how they were taken too soon really shook me.  I know I am more sensitive to these things, now that I have been personally affected by such a tragedy, but this time I felt a sense of responsibility. A responsibility to live the way these people would live if they still had the chance. I imagined they wouldn’t be sulking in front of a computer feeling bad for themselves.  I imagined they would be making someone’s day with their smiles, their energy, or their kindness. After all, that’s what all of these people were being remembered for.

As I packed up my bags to go home for the day, I remembered to bring home a shoebox I had left in the office, and then I got an idea. I arrived home and asked Johna if she would help me with a project. I asked her to get glue and scissors, and I went into my room to get old magazines and a notebook. We sat down in the living room and I wrote down the word “Inspiration” then I asked Johna to find letters in the magazine to make up this word. She asked what I was doing and what it was for. I told her it was for us, and we were going to fill the box with inspirational things to do. I wrote down “Smile at 10+ people,”

Then I asked Johna, “What else could someone do for someone else that would make them happy?”

She said, “I don’t know, you could help them or something…”

“Like what kind of help?”

“Um, maybe chores around the house.”

I wrote down “Help with chores.” I continued writing other ideas down such as “Give 3+ compliments,” I also started writing down personal inspirations like “Write in your journal” and fun inspirations like “Go get ice cream.”

Johna continued working diligently, cutting out designs, and letters, then finally said, “Wait, so we have to do these things? Like if I choose ‘help with chores’, I have to do that?”

I laughed, “Yes! That’s the point.”

“Aww man!!” She sighed and tried to hide a guilty smile.

“Hey, that was your idea not mine. So what else?”

We came up with around 30-40 different inspirations, and placed the strips of paper in the box. While we were working, Johna asked me who my inspirations were. I named off a few family members, but she wanted to know what famous people inspired me. I couldn’t think of someone off the top of my head so we ended up having a conversation about Justin Bieber being a good role model based on the movie we just saw together (let me also add I don’t think it’s a coincidence that she added me as her sister on Facebook the day after I took her to see this movie).

“Like I thought it was nice that he is still friends with his friends back home because sometimes when you become famous….”

“You forget them,” Johna chimed in. “Ate Emily, who was your favorite person in the movie besides Justin? Mine was the grandpa.”

“Me too.” I was enjoying talking with her more than the activity itself. Her parents passed by curious as to what we were doing. At one point I think they actually thought she had roped me into a project instead of the other way around (based on my loose translation of their conversation). We took a break for dinner, then made the finishing touches.

“Should we pick one now or start tomorrow?” Johna asked. I decided we could give it a try that night. We shook the box to shuffle the paper, then reached in with our eyes closed. Johna chose “Give someone a massage.” I chose “Write down 5 things you like about yourself.” Sadly, Johna chose to give her mom a massage instead of me (joke lang) and I slipped away to my room to do my assignment in my journal.

The next morning, Johna excitedly asked if we could choose another inspiration. I knew if it weren’t for her involvement, the box would have collected dust in my room. I was already feeling uninspired because I awoke with horrible allergies that even medicine wouldn’t cure. I shook the box again. She chose “Drink a glass of milk” (one of her suggestions) and I chose “Take pictures.” When I got home from school she asked, “have you taken pictures yet?” I hadn’t. I wanted to use the excuse of my allergies and hide away in my room for the night, but I couldn’t let her down. So we went out to the back yard and took pictures until the sun went down. Once we got inside Johna cheered, “Now I’ll drink my milk!”

Today, I chose “No complaining,” Johna chose “Give someone a nice nickname.” I’m not sure how good I’ve been about the no complaining thing, but I keep reminding myself so at least I haven’t forgotten completely.

My reignited inspiration has not come from the box I made, but instead it has come from my sisters. My younger host sister inspires me to be a better older sister, and I have my real older sister to thank for knowing how to be one.  It was immediately after a conversation with my real sister that I got the idea to make the box, and honestly it even sounds like something she would initiate. I told her my recent thoughts about life and was panicked about becoming a better person. She told me to breathe and reminded me I already am a good person. Although the conversation was cut short when she was summoned to be super mom, her words had sunk in enough. And while I thought the activity with my host sister would teach her a valuable lesson, she ended up being the driving force behind my mission.

Our Inspiration box

As mentioned in my last post, the Zaragoza fiesta has begun. Fiestas here are a big deal and they’re always happening because there is some occasion to celebrate…always. Each of the 19 barangays in my town have their own fiesta, I’m not sure exactly how they pick the dates for each one, but this is the mega fiesta because it’s celebrating the birth of Zaragoza overall.

So they kicked the fiesta off with a Fun Run through the town of Zaragoza on Saturday. It was about 5K, and I hadn’t been running in a long, long time…partially due to my foot injury…partially because I’m lazy. The only thing that gave me hope was I was also pretty sure a majority of the people in my community had never gone running for exercise in their life (not necessarily because they’re out of shape but because jogging is not a common form of exercise here).  My sitemate Caitlin and I got off to a good start but I was of course the first one to ask if we could walk for awhile. We ended up running again for the last stretch so it wasn’t a complete failure. And at least I didn’t take a trike (motorcycle with a side car) to the finish line… I’m serious…a lot of people did this. Over all though, it really was a fun time, and it inspired Caitlin and I to start running more often.

The next event was street dancing on Monday. A group of kids had been practicing at my school for the past few weeks, and as always they looked really good. I am continuously shocked by the level of artistic talent that so many people here have. It really just seems to come naturally to many of them.  So the catch to this street dancing was it took place at 4:30 am. Why so early? Because they had the opportunity to be on the news….”LIVE”.  I never got to intern for broadcast journalism, the one area of journalism I didn’t dabble in, but I thought that live coverage meant the cameras were just there ready to film what was happening in real time. But in this instance, they actually staged the beginning on the event so that it looked good on TV. The kids had to do their dance about 10 times before they got the timing right on camera. So by maybe 6:30 a.m. only my school had gotten the chance to dance, while a few others waited in the background for a turn that never arrived.

After the dancing, there were some other games and activities that the news also covered. There was Paluan ng Palayok, which means “hit the pot”, and is the same idea as a piñata except that it’s actually played with a clay pot. There was also relay races, arm wrestling, and my favorite Palo Sebo.

Paluan ng Palayok / Hit the Pot

Palo Sebo is a greased bamboo with a flag at the top. I love this because it relates to the wonderful tradition of the Greasy Pole back home during Gloucester’s St. Peter’s Fiesta. The differences: 1. Palo Sebo is vertical on land, while the Greasy Pole is horizontal over water (when I told some friends here about this they said “oh, that’s dangerous”) 2.  Generally the Greasy Pole is attempted by drunk adult men whereas this particular instance of Palo Sebo was attempted by sober children/teens. 3. The Greasy Pole is each man on their own, and is mostly a balancing act, whereas Palo Sebo is attempted by all the players, each of them helping each other, using an extreme amount of coordination and body strength.  Their most important similarity though is that they’re both entertaining to watch.

Palo Sebo

Greasy Pole

Every day there are new activities going on so I’m looking forward to all the other events. Tomorrow there’s bingo, the next night there’s a Zaragoza Idol competition, and then of course the Ms. Zaragoza Pageant (pageants are a major major deal here).  OH and I’ll be dancing the jive with some teachers on April 4 in front of the whole town, so that should be real interesting.

Aside from the festival it’s also the end of the year at the school, so recognition day is tomorrow for the honors students, and graduation in April 1. I am excited for things to pick up this week. It gives me something to write about!

 

An update on everything?! Where do I start? There are little stories I try to share often on Facebook so that I don’t forget the simple moments in between blogs. But a lot of times the only things that do happen are simple moments and I am left blogless. So here is my attempt to sum up at my time at site so far. The end of the school year is upon us, and that’s always a good time for reflection.

November – Arrived at site. Observed classes. Teachers didn’t understand what I was doing here. Made friends with the younger teachers who refer to themselves as the “Guidance People” because they all hang out in the guidance office.

December – Still observed, and observed that classes were becoming fewer and further between due to Christmas festivities. Some teachers got anxious that I wasn’t teaching yet, but my counterpart and I stood by our decision to allow this time as an adjustment period. Attended several Christmas parties. First Christmas away from home was not as bad as I thought it would be.

January – Had a great New Year celebration in Olongapo and an amazing birthday in Manila with lots of friends. Started co-teaching. Found it difficult to find time to work with my counterparts, mostly because both of them were working on their masters simultaneously. Host dad’s sister from America came to visit, family activities kept me fairly busy. I also got my first parasite this month! Woo.

February – Host dad’s cousin from America came to visit, again busy with family activities. Teaching schedule continued to be discouraging. During times I wasn’t in the classroom I started to get to know the other teachers at the school better. I also made friends with practice teachers who were at the school for one quarter as practicum for their college degree. They were between the ages of 20-26 so it was fun getting to know more personal cultural differences about each other like the differences in dating. Their final demo had to be taught in English, and the girl I talked with the most because our schedules were similar said she got a great evaluation on her demo. She said she thought talking with me so much improved her English and gave her the confidence to perform. Moments like this inspired me, and made feel me helpful even though I felt useless in the classroom. Somewhere along the line buried emotions came forward and I had my first breakdown in the Philippines.

March – Classes seemed to vanish like they did during Christmas time because it was the last month of school. Everyone was ready for summer. I decided to focus my energy on plans for the next school year, knowing that having a fresh start from day one would be easier both with my counterparts and the students. Coming in the middle of the school year was a difficult time for me to jump in as a teacher, but at the same time necessary in order for me the build the relationships that I have so far. I started planning a motivational workshop for teachers that will hopefully take place the week before classes start (end of May), and made a reading assessment test for first year students to see who will be in my developmental reading class next school year. The end of this month, where we are now, is the start of my town’s fiesta so there have been several exciting events. I’ll save those events for my next post coming up!

To sum this all up… I’ve been slightly disappointed with the teaching aspect of my job but I have high hopes for the next school year. I have accepted this school year for what it was, and why certain things didn’t happen the way I would have liked them to. It’s been most difficult when comparing to fellow volunteers who were able to hit the ground running, even though I know I’m not supposed to compare, but I can’t help it. What I do tell myself when I compare, is that we all have completely different circumstances and on top of that different personalities.

My personality feeds off of my relationships with other people. So when I joined the Peace Corps, I was excited that they put so much emphasis on building relationships in our communities. Some staff and resource volunteers even encouraged observing before teaching so that you have some time to get to know the people you’re working with.  Teaching I may not be so confident in yet, but making friends is my favorite!  I’ve gotten to know so many people in the past few months: what makes them happy, what makes them upset, how they work, how they have fun. I’ve also learned a lot about myself, what I can handle, what I can adapt to, and what parts of me are just too American to change. I even got an email from the Country Director giving me kudos for my integration into the community. So I’m doing at least something right!

Moving forward I have a lot of goals for my work and I hope to share them all with you soon.

A year ago today, a friend and former boyfriend of mine died in a car accident.  This past week, the days have slowed down as I watched the clock tick closer towards an anniversary I wish did not exist.  Today marks another day that he isn’t in our life, no amount of time will change the fact that he’s gone, so I’ve questioned why this day is impacting me so much more than any other day. And I realized, to me it’s not only the anniversary of his death, but also the anniversary of my grief. A year ago yesterday, I didn’t know what this kind of sadness felt like. But starting a year ago today, I endured a whirlwind of emotions that continue to sneak up on me during the strangest times. Not a day has gone by in this entire year that he has not crossed my mind, but recently he has flooded my thoughts more often, mostly I think because I’ve allowed myself to, but also because I cannot help but associate this particular time with how I felt a year ago, both before and after hearing about Tom.

St. Patrick’s Day last year was a fun celebration with friends in Boston, the place to be for an Irish holiday. I was enjoying my last semester of college, putting the pieces together of where I wanted to go next. Living a life in which I had never lost someone close to me suddenly or tragically. Then a phone call later, everything was turned upside down. I remember I thought back to what I must have been doing at the time of accident. I was watching The Departed at my friend’s apartment before falling asleep, it was an unimportant detail, but I wondered if something happened inside of me when the accident happened, like how it happens in movies, someone is jolted awake at the same time something terribly bad has happened somewhere else. Maybe I hiccupped or got a chill, but thought nothing of it. Or maybe nothing happened at all.

My memories the following days after his passing are vivid even though I often wish I could forget. I can still recall the feeling of my heart in my throat walking into my empty house. I can still hear the calming voice of one of my best friends on the phone as I cried harder than I ever thought possible. I can still see my mom in my doorway with concerned eyes when she got home. Grief was what drove me to sit down and write for hours in the library at my college with streams of tears coming down my face the day after his funeral. It was also grief that followed me around in my car for weeks, a place where I would cry no matter how short or long the drive. Grief has even followed me to the Philippines, where the sound of a song or a glimpse of a picture can bring tears to my eyes no matter where I am.

There have also been many times where I felt unjustified for my feelings. After all, I was kind of an outlier in his life. I hadn’t talked to him in a month, but I hadn’t seen him in over a year. This only added feelings of regret to my grief.  Regrets of not staying in touch better, regrets for pushing him aside. I still often wish I could talk to him about certain things or know what he would think or do in certain situations. The truth of the matter was I really cared about him, and unfortunately losing him made me realize just how much.

This year has been a wake up call for me. I no longer push people away, I tell people how I feel even more than I already did before, I appreciate every person in my life for who they are. It’s a scary reality, knowing first hand how fragile life can be. I don’t live in fear of losing others, but I am aware now that each day matters. Every time I see a news story or hear about another young person dying, I feel genuine sympathy and sadness for their family and friends, whereas before I could only imagine what it would be like and hoped it would never happen to me. Now that it has happened to me, I hug my friends a little tighter and always remember to say I love you.

Today, I will cherish the memories I have with him once again and I will share his story with the new people in my life. I wish I could be around his friends and family during this time, but it is comforting to know they have each other. It’s been a year without you, Tom, but you’re still living strong in our hearts.

Sometimes when I think about what has happened in my life in the past six months, it’s impossible for me to believe. The transitions, the ups and downs, the people I’ve met. The excitement, the loneliness, the curiosity. The most amazing lessons have come in the most unexpected forms.

Who could have guessed that I would meet a group of guys from Saudi Arabia studying to be pilots in Olongapo? Let alone imagine that they would change my perspective about Middle Eastern culture, spark an interest in exploring my religion, and give me an unforgettable birthday party in Manila.  When I joined the Peace Corps, I imagined I would make close friends with other volunteers and people in my community, but I never imagined I would meet some of the most interesting and nice people from a different country all together.

Not only have I had cultural exchanges with them, but I’ve also gotten to see their perspective of Filipino culture coming from a culture other than my own.  I’ve talked about my challenges of teaching ESL and have gotten interesting insights from them on what helped them learn when they were in school. Most importantly, they became the kind of friends I never want to lose touch with.  They left to go back home today, and it felt like a chapter of my experience here was ending. Some of my favorite memories so far have been with them, and I am so grateful they came into my life when they did. As sad as I am to say goodbye, a smile can’t help but come to my face when thinking of them finally getting to hug their mothers they talked so highly about for the first time in a year.

I could have also never guessed that it would take a visitor from America to make me see how much I’ve really changed so far. My host dad’s cousin was born and raised in America by Filipinos in a Filipino community in San Francisco.  She is as Filipino as she is American, but also the first American outside of Peace Corps I’ve spent a considerable amount of time with. Whenever I see other volunteers, we’re all going through similar experiences, slowly but surely molding our personalities to fit in with the Filipino culture.  So when we are together it’s almost like staring into a mirror, in the way that you don’t really see how you’re changing day to day until you look at a younger picture of yourself in comparison.

When I first met this host cousin I was happily surprised, first, by her clear and loud American accent quickly followed by her blatant sarcasm. I’m pretty sure I winced waiting to see what my host dad’s reaction would be to her witty response to a question he asked, and then sighed with relief when nothing dramatic happened. It was then that I realized how less sarcastic I’ve become, especially when in my community. Many times when people say things that could be seen as sarcastic here, they immediately follow their remark with “joke lang” (equivalent of just kidding). I’ve often heard Filipinos say “we’re sensitive people,” when describing themselves, and saying ‘joke lang’ is a preventative measure to save face. Realizing just how much I’ve adapted to this habit was just the beginning to my reflection on how much I’ve changed so far.

In fact, I actually realized that I was probably repressing my true personality too much. Having so much training on how I should act ended up making me hold back many parts of my personality from the get go. Watching another American come to town and just be herself was a wake up call to me. Being direct isn’t common in this culture, especially when it comes to conflicts (again referring back to being sensitive), as an incredibly direct person I wasn’t really sure how to handle this adjustment. My fear of being too direct and hurting someone’s feelings or appearing to be too forward caused me to shut down all together. This was causing me a lot of internal anxiety as well as giving off the impression to all the teachers that I’m a quiet and serious person, which is just. not. true! I’m still trying to come out of this shell I’ve created for myself. But recognizing the problem is the first step, right?

To end on a funny note, I’ll share a story from this afternoon. First the back story. Another big difference between the host cousin and I is the way we dress. Before coming to the Philippines, newbie volunteers were advised by veteran volunteers (especially woman) to bring conservative clothes. I remember going through my clothes at home and feeling as though nothing in my wardrobe was appropriate to bring here, which in turn made me question whether or not I was a hoe (joke lang). But really most of my clothes for warm weather were sleeveless and/or low cut, and anything besides pants that I owned was too short. I later learned from other volunteers that I wasn’t the only one with this dilemma, which made me feel slightly better and made me realize it’s more of a cultural difference than anything else. The cousin, only on vacation, brought exactly the clothes that I left behind.

Some of the teachers today commented about it since they’re not used to seeing someone dressed that way. I explained to them that I used to dress like that too. They then asked me why I still didn’t. I told them first because as a white girl I already get stared at enough and don’t need another reason to draw attention to myself, and then second because the culture is more conservative here. In that moment, I felt a true sense of appreciation from the teachers I was talking with. I think for the first time they realized that the way I dress everyday here is not necessarily how I’d dress everyday in America but that I have changed to try and fit in.

For extra proof, I decided to pull up a picture on my computer of me in the states in the summer time. “See look, sleeveless shirt and short shorts!” They all laughed and made comments like “ohhh sexy na.” and then asked to see another. What started with one photo ended up being a slideshow of pictures from my past and a group of middle aged women behind me yelling and giggling “SLEEVELESS!” every time they saw a picture of me wearing one, which happy or sad to say was about 90% of the pictures.

These two topics I’ve written about seem pretty random when paired side by side. But that’s one of the beauties of Peace Corps. The unpredictability.

 

Christmas in the Philippines starts in September. Or as some say, they celebrate Christmas during the “ber” months. And we thought stores that sold Christmas decorations after Halloween in America were pushing it. It’s a good thing I really like “All I Want for Christmas” by Mariah Carey, as I remember it being played on a loop at a place I went for internet at my training site in October.

Christmas parties, festivals, dances are planned. Christmas lanterns are purchased in droves, as I mentioned in a blog earlier. It appears as though Christmas is a really big deal, and in ways it is, just not so much on the day itself.

On Christmas Eve, my family said we were going to the mall to buy food. I imagined this meant we were buying the ingredients to be cooked for a big meal Christmas day. But my host mom didn’t feel like cooking. This is understandable since she has a demanding one year old and she cooks all the meals every other day of the year. I thought this was sort of funny since it’s the opposite at my house in America. Meals during the year, you better fend for yourself because my mom gave up cooking years ago, but come Christmas day all of her hidden talents come forward and we have decadent, made from scratch, delicious spreads of food. Regardless, when I heard my host mom didn’t feel like cooking, my first instinct was to panic. Are they going to ask me to cook? Haven’t I told them I am really not confident in my cooking skills unless they’re instant noodles? If any meat, I really only feel comfortable cooking boneless chicken and that seems to not exist in this country. As all these thoughts are flooding my brain, I realize suddenly, we’re in line at Greenwich Pizza. Not only do I get pizza for my Christmas Eve feast, I also get KFC, lasagna, a ball of ham, and a ball of cheese! Oh, and obviously cake. All bought precooked and ready to go.

Anyway, back to Christmas Eve. I see a sign with the mall hours, and see that the mall is open for most of Christmas Day. I ask my host dad about this, since most things are shut down in America, and I imagine a country that’s been hyping up Christmas for months would shut down to an even more extreme degree. My host dad says “Christmas Eve is usually the most celebrated part. Christmas is just like a regular day here.” Excuse me? Birthday parties here call for hours upon hours of videoke, mountains of food, and sometimes even games. But then the birthday of Jesus comes along in an overwhelmingly Christian country and it’s like a regular day?! I’m still trying to figure it out. Maybe the months of celebrating before hand make up for the lack of celebrating on the actual day? I didn’t say any of this of course. I think I was taken aback, and was actually speechless.

We went to midnight mass, enjoyed our feast of fast food, and then opened presents in a very rushed fashion before heading to bed. Christmas was over in the blink of an eye. Or so I thought.

The next day, we went over to my host mom’s moms house, where all the relatives gathered and really did hang around like it was any other day. There were no traditions, no story time, there wasn’t even any more present opening. There was a big slumber party though, because the next day, we would be traveling to Manila.

Due to the 13 hour time difference, when I woke up the day after Christmas in the Philippines, it was still Christmas day in America, and I was happy to have a busy day planned. Instead of moping around, wondering what everyone back home was doing, I was being toured around places in Manila I would have probably never see on my own. Places like Luneta Park, which my host dad compared to the National Mall, on a much smaller scale of course, or the the monument for Rizal, a national hero of the Philippines. We went to the zoo, which was nothing to write home about, and then we were off to Star City. Star City is a cross between a shopping mall, a carnival, and an amusement park. While the adults (I was not included) stayed inside for the shopping, I was given an “unlimited ride pass” and three 15 year old companions. The lines were as bad as lines at Disneyland during Christmas, but I’m a sucker for roller coasters and I didn’t really have another choice. It was a long and exhausting day, but again, much appreciated with the timing.

I came to a conclusion during this visit that helped me better understand the Christmas celebration I had just encountered. When we arrived in Manila, we saw hundreds of people in Luneta park. There was a lot of talk inside the van about the amount of people there. Trying to comprehend the Tagalog, I gathered that December 26 was deemed “Family Day” (which I think meant promotional discounts at Manila attractions). To which my host sister replied, loudly “But, everyday is family day!”

In America, Christmas is seen as a family day, where people travel far to be with relatives, or at least put other obligations aside to spend the entire day with loved ones. But here, they’re always together, and in that sense I guess Christmas is just like any other day.

 

 

 

 

 

Crunchy numbers

Really enjoyed getting these e-mails from WordPress. I like how they compare page views to how many airplanes would be filled with passengers who have read your blog! Check out the one from my broken foot (joan) blog: here :)

The stats helper monkeys at WordPress.com mulled over how this blog did in 2010, and here’s a high level summary of its overall blog health:

The Blog-Health-o-Meter™ reads Wow.

A Boeing 747-400 passenger jet can hold 416 passengers. This blog was viewed about 3,600 times in 2010. That’s about 9 full 747s.

 

In 2010, there were 21 new posts, not bad for the first year! There were 43 pictures uploaded, taking up a total of 30mb. That’s about 4 pictures per month.

The busiest day of the year was December 24th with 142 views. The most popular post that day was Merry Christmas: Presents in the form of blogs.

Where did they come from?

The top referring sites in 2010 were facebook.com, peacecorpsjournals.com, markfullmer.com, twitter.com, and philipinnepeaceofmind.blogspot.com.

Some visitors came searching, mostly for emily grund, peace corps philippines, philippine peace corps, peace corps philippine, and philippines peace corps.

Attractions in 2010

These are the posts and pages that got the most views in 2010.

1

Merry Christmas: Presents in the form of blogs December 2010
2 comments

2

The last few days August 2010
3 comments

3

Timeline: How I got here July 2010
1 comment

4

Changing November 2010
5 comments

5

First week. Lots to say! November 2010
2 comments

I felt something tickling my foot. On reflex I shook it, as I was reading my book. A split second later, I dropped my book in a freak out moment, looking all around my bed to see what had been crawling on me. I looked around the floor of my bed but didn’t see anything. Nothing appeared to be on my bed either. A small moth had landed on the page I was reading minutes before, maybe that’s what it was. Or maybe, it was just the scarf hanging from my closet that was blowing from the wind of the fan. My fan tricks me often. I’ll see something moving out of the corner of my eye and jump a mile high thinking some animal is on my bed, when really it’s just flickering the pages of my diary.

I felt annoyed to be disrupted from my book. I thought to myself “why am I not used to the bugs by now? This is my home.” And then I paused. “My home.” And then I smiled. I laid down on my pillow, on my bed, in my room and smiled. I even let out a short laugh. I don’t know if I’ll ever get used to the bugs, or the mice, but getting used to this place, even if it’s just this bedroom to start, has given me a feeling of incomparable comfort. The kind of comfort that assures me I’m exactly where I’m supposed to be.

 

Recently, I’ve been in a writing rut. I fall into these often for many reasons: writer’s block, my perfectionist ego taunting me, exhaustion, laziness, etc, etc. I have so much to write about! I’m overwhelmed with stories swirling in my head, but when it comes to writing them down, I hesitate. What I do find myself doing, rather than writing my own blogs, is reading the blogs of other volunteers . Each experience is so unique but at the same time so relatable. I have so many “Me too!” moments, and I often think, why don’t I just link to these blogs and people can read their beautiful writing when I am unable to deliver. So that is what I will do, as a Christmas present to all my readers, share some of my favorite Peace Corps Philippines blogs with you.

First, I will say that all of the blogs are worth checking out, and you can pick and choose which ones you want to read here or here. The blogs I read the most are by those who I am facebook friends with and link to their blogs on a regular basis, so if you aren’t mentioned in this post, don’t be offended, I just haven’t found you yet!

On to the list!

If you ever need a good laugh, read Brandon’s blog. He manages to make light (and hilarious) out of any situation and adds pictures found on the web to support his content (equally as hilarious as his writing, but the captions make the photo). He also introduced me to Hyperbole and a Half, one of the funniest blogs in existence…in my opinion.

Mark’s blog is beautifully written. The blog has a poetic flow to it, really awesome story telling, and great photos. He also includes podcasts! And he published a book, so clearly this guy has some skills!

Another beautiful and poetic writer is Lillian (I’ve mentioned her before, she rocks). Her photography is absolutely outstanding. She has a way of explaining things so effortlessly and wonderfully, I am often tempted to plagiarize. BIRO LANG! (ONLY JOKING). But she does inspire me.

Lysette, ohhhh Lysette. I met her at the very beginning of training and we became really close right off the bat. Unfortunately, the Peace Corps has basically put us worlds apart, as she is in the Visayas and I’m on Luzon. But I still consider her one of my closest friends here, and she’s only 1 peso text away! All sentiments aside, her blog is as genuine as they come. You can feel her emotions in her writing, her excitement, her love. She puts it all out on the table, almost like a diary, stream of consciousness, story telling. She is amazing! And yes I’m biased.

Another humorous blog is Ryan’s. From the titles, to the picture captions, and everything in between, he really paints an accurate picture of how life runs for many of us volunteers. He also likes to compete with his girlfriend (can I call her that? I just did) Trisha over their grammar skills (sorry for mine, I’m working on it). So if nothing else, you can read a grammatically correct blog if you get sick of reading my jumbled mess of writing.

I thought I was done there, but then I looked at the Batch 269 blog page and realized, I really just love all of them. So I will end you with Carmen’s, Blake’s, and Andrew’s as my final favorites, again all entertaining, unique, and similar at the same time. But really, if you want a painted picture of our lives here, be sure to check out as many as you can!