Where Valdez says, Cacanindin goes...

This first week and a half or so we've been living on a schedule. There wasn't really time to recuperate from the four days in a row of sleeplessness so a dreamy haze hovered in front of my consciousness much of this time. Jason's family develops plans for us in the back room (or maybe mid-conversation, there's no way of knowing cause I can't speak Tagalog) and then we get ferried one place where we stay all day and into the night, then we're suddenly woken up the next morning working every moment trying to extract some sort of information as to what on Earth is going on. We spent a lot of time accompanying his parents on their Balikbayan. Balikbayan is an important tradition where relatives journey back to the place where they were born and raised. Filipinos always bring small gifts (called pasalubong) from where they live to give relatives staying near home. Furthermore, when Filipinos are born, they often bury the placenta under the home or in the town square. So they simply can't stay away from home for long. They are literally rooted there.

Given all of this, I was still instantly part of the family before I even arrived here because Jason's parents made it clear to everyone that they considered me their son. This meant so much to me and it was evident in all of the ways everyone made me feel like family while I was under their wings. I wish I knew how to better express my appreciation in a way that was appreciated by the culture. Hospitality is a completely different sort of give-and-take here that I'm still too unfamiliar with to describe. Hopefully Jason's parents didn't take my Vegan diet or cultural nascence as an embarrassment or lack of appreciation. 

We visited the childhood homes of both his parents. His mother grew up in Lucena south of Manila, and his father grew up in Pangasinan province north of Manila. Lucena is a beautiful beach-side village rich with bukos (coconuts) but not money. These welcoming, honest, beautiful people are the definition of poor. The lucky ones drive tricycles or a jeep or work as maids. The rest catch fish or have given up on the job concept all together. All of the buildings in the small village were nipa huts on bamboo stilts or cinder block with the same palm leaf roofs.

It was during two days visiting Lucena that after years of trying to get Jason into the water, he swam in the ocean for the first time in his life! With bright blue water like that it's hard not to. Plus, travel is all about first experiences right? Leave it to Jason to attract all of the strange creatures. At one point he screamed out loud after stepping on some sort of bottom-feeding sand-dweller. I was so proud of him for finally tackling his paralyzing fear of submersion. Still, I swam a good 200-300m out into the water and could still stand, so there wasn't really much to worry about... or so I thought.

In the afternoon on that first day in Lucena, I helped haul in a fishing net that contained small fish doomed to serve as bait for the next round, and a lionfish! Lionfish are deadly poisonous but one guy used his sinelas (flip-flops) to pick it up and put it back in the water we'd been swimming in all day. We cooled off with a fresh buko each, right off the palm. Coconuts are filling! The water and flesh from just one were enough to fill me up after I skipped out on the seafood lunch feast, crashed on a bench and woke up so I could skip the seafood dinner feast.

We spent the night at a place often used to accommodate for parties and tourists, courtesy of a family friend. Encaged in a small bird sanctuary were three immature Philippine Eagles! I've had a love for this creature for a quite a long time, but this was my first time ever seeing one in person. Hopefully my experiences here will lead me to encounter an adult in the wild. Jason and I spent part of the evening sleeping in these hammocks that look like woven baskets. In just a couple of hours, he was eaten alive, arms and legs covered by mosquito and flea bites when I had only one bite on my leg. I was wondering why I hadn't seen a single mosquito since I'd arrived and I realized then that they simply liked the Valdez family more than me. Figures that they also have a genetic allergy to bug bites. Yum! The next day was spent visiting other family members in the area, distributing pasalubong gifts, learning to count to 5 and say "you're handsome" in Tagalog, and somehow consuming four full coconuts worth of water and flesh in one sitting, alone.

Jason's father's home was different because his family grew up comfortably. More those who hire the maids. In fact, his father's side of the family hired extra hands specifically for the time that we were there. We stayed with them in Manila as well. In Pangasinan province, we visited churches and cemeteries, and visited the places his father frequented as a child. The house they grew up in had a sort of farm/orchard spanning a few acres behind the house.

The kitchen

 At one point, Jason's father and his brother got comfortable in the living room of the house we slept overnight in and told stories about how they spent their spare time as youths. Plenty of hacky-sacks, bee-bee gun marksmanship, various sports and games, bicycles and horse carriages rather than motorbikes and tricycles. My favorite story was when they would go into the jungle and catch spiders, blow on them in their hands to make them sleep, and put them in a portioned matchbox. Later, they meet up with friends, put the spiders on either side of a bamboo food skewer, rile them up and make them fight. Seems like there's a cultural tradition here of making entertainment out of nature in the in-between hours. If it isn't dogs or roosters, it's spiders or lizards or who knows what.

We visited several churches and I played along and went to mass... until the sermon turned to condemnation of the HR (Reproductive Health) Bill, when I simply had to walk out. I get overwhelmed with frustration seeing such a beautiful people taking the sword the Spanish used to colonize them by the blade and stabbing it deeper into their guts. I can only imagine what the people and the land would look like if the people and the government declared independence from the Roman Catholic Church (Islam in the southern island of Mindanao).

Anyway, I enjoyed walking around while the family visited churches. I saw a huge turkey hanging out in the passenger seat of a tricycle, I was a hot commodity in the eyes of girls at buto stalls, and I absorbed the full heat of stares from every mammal, bird, and reptile in the area. I stick out like a sore thumb in North America and I'm used to getting stares, but that's nothing compared to how people stare here. The farther away from tourist areas you are, the more you stand out. It's probably like fascination with abomination; it's hard to look away from the bright white light in a field of familiarity.

Sprout some balls

The bus rides to and from all of these places were atrocious. They were 4-6 hours each with far too much air conditioning and non-stop, loud, shitty movies. We were so tired but we just couldn't sleep. It reminded me of this serious bout of insomnia during college that I still don't know how I survived.

One of the last things we did in the provinces was visit a beach. There was a tiny fruit-bike where we tried some really unique fruits. My favorite was chico, which has the consistency of jicama but sweeter, with skin fuzzy like a kiwi, shaped like a potato, and yellow crisp and juicy on the inside. Excellent with salt and chili powder. There was also this big green fruit a little bigger than a grapefruit but very much like it. same skin but green, about an inch worth of that white inner rind before you hit the juicy stuff. It has the same color and texture on the inside as a grapefruit but tasted like an apple!. Then there was snake fruit. Aptly named for its surprising snake-like skin, it's much more sour than kalamansi or lemon. I don't care who you are, your face will squint at the taste of that thing.

Snake Fruit

Jason's family also took us to some places in the Manila area. We went to the Ayala Museum, which had specific galleries of Filipino art. Not much in the way of the clay or weavings or crafts you'd imagine. More the blue-and-white pottery from specific kilns in China, and there was an interesting exhibit on gold crafts and influences from China and India that created a "Filipino" culture, erasing differences between family groups scattered across the islands. We also went to the Mind Museum, a science museum that was fun and surprising at times.

Food was sometimes an issue because Jason's family brought us everywhere, including to restaurants. Especially his father's side treated us to some fancy places. If we ever ate at home, the maids did the cooking. They were fantastic cooks but it was hard to get a say in what happened in the kitchen, so I spent quite a bit of time telling myself that there are so many malnourished people here, just buck up and make it through the week. I'm really sensitive to my physical, spiritual, and emotional health. So, when my body was hating me on the first day, I knew it would be a long visit. By the third day, I was shaking from simply having eaten white rice and maybe nutritionally insufficient bittermelon or a banana here and there. By the time the week and a half was over, I was looking forward to sleep, rest, and cooking for myself.

Trinna, Jason, Misset, Jon, and Me

I also don't handle tofu well. Again, my body just wants it to be over and out. It's impossible to even find a salad here without a cheese-based dressing over iceberg lettuce that happens to be more expensive than half of the meat entrees. One day, I was sitting at a restaurant, his uncle is paying and he's helping me find something vegan. So he points at a Filipino word and says it's a bowl of soy beans. I ask him repeatedly to make sure it's not tofu, that it's soy beans, that there's no patis (fish sauce), that there's no butter or milk. He reassures me at every juncture. To be generous, he orders two bowls of this dish. It's a bowl of fried tofu, of course, swimming in potent white vinegar and soy sauce. I'm starving and I wolf it down as fast as I can, trying to match everyone else's pace and seem content. Then I reach the bottom of the bowl, and there are several obviously fish fins. As if I didn't feel like vomiting already. I thought it tasted funny. By the time I had finished that monstrous bowl, everyone else had taken what they wanted from the other bowl, and were all insisting that I finish the tofu bowl. Somehow, my desire to show my appreciation and my strong instinct not to waste food overpowered my nausea for the next few hours. I don't think even Jason had any idea how bad I felt. Sure, people have been startled by learning that what they thought they ate was pork was actually grubs or something. But for me, after going through similar experiences at almost every meal, exhausted, trapped by propriety and lack of choice, and having gone from nutritionally pristine to straight malnourished, this experience like this seemed like a big deal at the time. Sure, I've accepted the fact that I'll have to eat meat once in a long while. But making my own choice when, and having those meals surrounded by meals of my own nutritional choice, make facing that prospect a little bit easier.

At one point, all of our bags were lined up against a wall inside and Jason freaks out saying, "David, get in here quick and get this spider before i kill it." I was expecting a regular spider, I dunno, daddy long legs, or a thumb-sized thing that couldn't possibly be scarier than a black widow. This fucker was huge. It's called a hunter spider, and I immediately remembered the size shape and motions of the spider that was used for all the smaller spiders in Arachnophobia. This thing is quick-moving and intimidating. Legs included, it spanned bigger than the palm of my hand. I used a bucket to catch it (it was on my pack when I came back with materials). When I flipped the bucket over, there was a very obvious plop as it fell to the bottom. I left it on a tree outside. What an incredible creature that thing was.

I had a great time in Manila, and Jason's family are all so wonderful. It's so sad that Jason couldn't stay longer and come with me to visit Roselynne in Cebu. Long before sunrise, Jason and I went to the airport for our flights. One to Cebu, one to Los Angeles. Everyone else flew later that day. I can't wait to catch up with Roselynne, and I can't wait to be making decisions for myself again!