**Disclaimer: all views expressed in this blog are exclusively those of Bubbles the cockroach, not Christina the human**
Hello, giant two-legged creatures from a faraway land called Yew-Essay (forgive my spelling, I’ve only heard legends of the place). Let me introduce myself: my name is Bubbles Roach. I share a room with Christina the human, Gloria the gecko, Manny the mosquito, and Annie’s ant colony. Oh, and before I forget to tell you: I’m a cockroach.
I am sure Christina has told you much about our increasingly strong friendship, or at least – I hope she has. Sometimes humans just don’t understand us bugs, which is why I decided to hack Christina’s blog. Your kind chases us around, sprays us with poison liquids, crushes us with pungent-smelling caves that you call shoes, and screams at the sight of us. Well, let me tell you a little secret: we’re more scared of you than you are of us. You just need to give us a chance.
I mean, come on. Yes we cockroaches can survive a nuclear attack, but do you realize that we are the size of your big toe? We’re not out to get you. We’re actually pretty harmless little fellas. Does the fact that we have six legs make our lives any less valuable? A lot of you aliens seem to think so. You find the very mention of our kind repulsive. We just want to be friends.
Christina has actually done quite well at adapting to my presence in her room. Before formally introducing myself, I had been observing her for a few days from the wall – a cozy spot about a foot above her closet. It was high enough so she couldn’t reach me if she decided to freak out, yet close enough so I could still hear her conversations and watch her every move.
She is a funny pet to watch. She makes my normally boring life so much more interesting. Every morning, she scurries around the room, trying to find some sort of information in her pile of books, then scribbles jibberish on a piece of paper or types a flurry of letters on the computer. She sometimes talks to her computer too, calling it “Mom and Dad,” “Amberle,” “Vincent and Faith,” “Sneha,” “Hanna and Alison,” or a series of other names I can’t seem to remember. The computer talks back, too. In different voices! I hear it’s because of a program called Skype, but I just think she is creating voices those her head.
Around 10:30 a.m. every day, Christina dumps her computer, about 5 books, a slim funny-looking device that plays music, and her cell phone into her backpack. She bounds down the stairs, greeting the other aliens in the house, and flies out the door to her school, the library, the mall, Starbucks, or other faraway places in the world. She doesn’t return until late at night. I can tell she is tired when she comes back because her tread is so much heavier coming up the stairs.
When Christina is gone, I love exploring her stuff. It was so tempting to weasel my way into the canned food she has at the foot of her bed for the first few days, but I decided to use my better judgment and not break into her food before she invited me. I bet it doesn’t taste as good as bugs anyway. Her fuzzy blue blanket on the bed is so amusing. I hope she’ll invite me to share her bed sometime. It looks so much more comfortable than my spot on the wall. Maybe I’ll sneak in tonight and see what she says.
Anyway, back to our first introduction. Her first reaction was actually rather hilarious. She was in the process of talking to her computer when our eyes first met. She made no sound, but her eyes followed me warily. I thought it was love at first sight since she didn’t immediately start screaming and trying to kill me. After she ended the conversation with the computer, I tentatively crawled down to her level and started making my way toward her. That was when the scream happened. It was a short, high-pitched screech that was suddenly stifled, as if she were choking. She jumped on a chair and started hyperventilating. Fearing the worst, I rushed under her bed for cover. A few minutes later, she started breathing normally and murmuring something to herself. I peeked out again, but then she chased me with a chair and started dancing around, as if the floor were burning coals. Again, I ducked for cover and stayed hidden for the night. (See photos: Christina with a fake cockroach that her friends scared her with. Note that outfit is from the Victorian era because she was at a tea party.)
The next night, I tried introducing myself again. This time, she was a bit more amenable to my presence. She called me “Bubbles” and just stared at me rather than trying to crush me. I was quite impressed with her progress and visited nearly every night after that, either for a few minutes or a few hours. I even crawled across her feet once. Our friendship has developed beautifully. We talked about all sorts of things, from how her initial fear of roaches stemmed from a traumatizing childhood experience to how I learned how to speak human.
Christina and I have actually become quite close over the past two weeks. Sometimes she still freaks out and I see a raging glare on her face as sheeyes a big box to crush me, but I know our friendship is strong enough that she won’t actually do it. You know, that’s what all friendships are built on: trust. Sometimes you want to kill each other, but deep down you know you never will.
As much as your crazy two-legged giants hate us, I’d encourage you to give us a chance. There’s more of us in the Philippines than Yew-Essay, but I think I actually have some distant cousins that live on that faraway continent. I’d be happy to get in contact with them if you wish. Cockroaches really do make great friends. Just ask Christina, we’re not as mean and scary as we look.
Water, water, everywhere. But not a drop to drink.
This famed line from British poet Taylor Coleridge’s poem “Rime of the Ancient Mariner” seems to epitomize the dismal situation that has faced Metro Manila for the past few weeks. The Philippines is surrounded by oceans, feels inextricable humidity, and receives average yearly rainfall of 38 to 160 inches. Coming from a desert (New Mexico), I found it unbelievable that a humid, rainy city could have a severe water crisis. However, because of the unusually parched dry season that preceded my time in this country, the past month has brought citywide water rations.
According to GMA (a government-owned television station), 49 percent (344) of the barangays serviced by Maynilad Water Services, Inc. are affected by the water shortage. About 3 million people live in those barangays. Additionally, 32 barangays have no water at all. Government officials say the shortage is so severe because Angat Dam, Maynilad’s water provider, has hit a record low of 157.6 meters.
About 60 percent of Angat Dam’s water goes to Maynilad, while another 40 percent services Manila Water. In contrast to the nearly 50 percent water shortage rate of Maynilad, only 21 percent of Manila water customers are experiencing the crisis. Click here to see the story.
The Philippine Inquirer reported that the National Disaster Coordinating Council has dispatched soldiers to 177 barangays to prevent riots of the water shortage. About 1,120,000 residents of those barangays have either no water or have water for six hours or less a day. Click here to see the story.
If you remember from one of my earlier blogs, I wrote that my shower only worked every other day. Well, I guess this is why. Thankfully, the water shortage in Manila seems to be improving slowly as more rain comes.
The situation here has really caused me to reflect on my personal water usage. I lived in a desert back home, but I never had to worry about not having water in my house. I took 15-minute hot showers, ran through the sprinklers when I was hot, drank purified water straight from the tap, and complained when rain spoiled my outdoor plans. At my new home in Manila, I’m lucky if the cold water works for a few days straight, wouldn’t think of drinking from the tap, and haven’t seen a single sprinkler in the city (though there probably are some in the upper class or corporate areas). Rather than begrudging the nearly daily rainfall, I thank the Lord for opening the floodgates of heaven and letting it rain.
As I was heading home from church today, a huge downpour hit my city, raining for two or three hours. Children ran out in the streets, waving their hands in glee. A small child took a homemade boat made of cardboard and plastic bottles and joyfully “sailed it” through the streets. Another boy splashed along the highway with flimsy flip flops on his arms as “floaties.” While I worried about the cleanliness and safety of sloshing through a foot of water on a rubbish-filled highway, the situation did make me smile. Who knew a little rain could cause so much joy in an entire city? My challenge to you, dear friends, is this: appreciate the small things in life and learn to conserve our world’s precious natural resources.
Some of you may have heard about the recent typhoon in the Philippines – Typhoon Basyang (aka Conson). I am fine. We just had a blackout at my apartment for about 15 hours and LOTS of wind and rain. Others weren’t so fortunate. I hear that dozens of typhoons hit the Philippines each year, and “Basyang” was only the first one of this rainy season. Please keep this country in your prayers.
‘Basyang’ leaves 20 dead, 57 missing
By Helen Flores
MANILA, Philippines – Typhoon “Basyang” (international name Conson) left at least 20 people dead and 57 others missing after cutting a path of destruction through Luzon early yesterday.
The Philippine Atmospheric, Geophysical and Astronomical Services Administration (Pagasa) said Basyang weakened slightly as it moved northwest away from the country. The typhoon toppled power lines, causing widespread blackouts and suspension of flights and classes, bringing Metro Manila to a virtual standstill.
As of 4 p.m. yesterday, the eye of the storm was spotted some 180 kilometers west of Iba, Zambales, with maximum sustained winds of 85 kilometers per hour near the center and gustiness of up to 100 kph.
Signal No. 1 remained hoisted over Pangasinan, Zambales and Bataan as of yesterday afternoon.
Storm warning signals were lifted elsewhere.
Basyang was forecast to move northwest at 19 kph and is expected to be some 480 km west of Laoag City Thursday afternoon.
Pagasa, however, continue to warn residents in low lying areas and near coastal areas and mountain slopes under storm signal no. 1 against possible flashfloods and landslides.
Basyang weakened into a storm after making landfall over northern Quezon Tuesday night.
National Disaster Coordinating Council (NDCC) data as of 6 p.m. yesterday showed that the fatalities came from Central Luzon, CALABARZON and Bicol region.
The victims died from electrocution, drowning, head injuries, or were hit by falling trees, electric posts and other debris.
Among the fatalities were three minors – Michelle Alegre, 2, from Trece Martires City, Cavite; Darenz Cabrera, 4, and Nicolas Cabrera, 12, both from Laurel, Batangas – who were hit by fallen trees.
A certain Myrna Alegre, 35, of Trece Martires City, was also hit by a fallen tree.
Five of the fatalities – Alex Perpenia, 24, of Mariveles Bataan; Bendinita Redota, 90, and Joel Barza, 57, both from Camarines Norte, Crisostomo Awid of Calamba, Laguna and Maximo Lantican, 68, of Los Baños, Laguna – drowned.
A certain Marcelina Batan, 47, from Laurel, Batangas died from electrocution.
Four of the fatalities – Federico Caringal, 52, Alfredo Ventura, 39, Nelson Solomon, 19 and Romeo de Vera 57, all from Biñan, Laguna – died after a warehouse under construction collapsed.
Two victims – Inez de Leon, 83, of Lucena City and Victorino Capunan, 89, of Taytay, Rizal – died after they were hit by debris of fallen houses.
A certain Avelino Borromeo, 63, of Real, Quezon died of head injuries while a certain Ben Garcia, 55 of Taytay, Rizal was pinned by an electric post.
In a separate report, the Army’s 9th Infantry Division identified another fatality, Mar Gillen of Camarines Norte, who died of hypothermia.
The NDCC said that a total of twelve persons sustained injuries. Three of them – Jayjay Tacorda, Cesar dela Mede and Milagros Dango of San Pablo, Laguna – were hit by a fallen concrete wall. Another three – Norma Pamatmat of Sta. Cruz, Laguna, Manuel Villaflores, and his son who was not named, both from Lumban, Laguna – were carried off by strong winds.
A certain Jun Policarpio from San Pablo, Laguna also sustained injuries after he nearly drowned.
Also injured were Marygrace Malabanan from Taytay, Rizal and two other unidentified persons in Laguna. The NDCC did not state how they got their injuries.
An unidentified person was also injured in Kalayaan, Laguna after being hit by a flying roof.
NDCC said a total of 137 families and 752 persons in Bulacan, Aurora, Quezon, Laguna, and Camarines Norte were affected by the storm and have been brought to evacuation centers. The Social Welfare department also evacuated 43 families in the Baseco compound and Del Pan in Manila.
The storm also damaged a breakwater structure in Mariveles, Bataan and a bridge along Palico-Balayan, Batangas road.
Sea tragedies
Six of the 57 missing persons were from Central Luzon and were crewmembers of fishing vessel F/V Alicia that sank off Mariveles, Bataan. They are Leoncito Ombad, Marcelo Avila, Bong Fajardo, Jun Barbarona, Apad Capilean, and a certain “Toto.”
The 51 other missing were from the Bicol region, 40 of them still unidentified. Eleven of them went fishing last July 12 in Bagamanoc, Catanduanes on board three motorized bancas and failed to return home due to bad weather.
They were identified as Melchor Chavinia, Crispin Fajardo, Rodolfo Fajardo, Eddie Cordez, Ronnie Dejardo, Jose Rojo, Jeven Evangelista, Ramon dela Cruz, Raymundo dela Cruz, Rudy Evangelista and Noel Briones.
Another fishing banca with nine fishermen on board set sail from Pandan, Catanduanes but only five managed to return home.
Commodore Enrico Efren Evangelista, chief of the Philippine Coast Guard (PCG) Staff, said that the fishermen might have gone out on Monday even if there was already an advisory for vessels 1,000 gross tons and below not to set sail because of the typhoon.
The PCG also reported that Basyang left one ship captain dead, aside from those reported missing.
PCG spokesman Lieutenant Commander Arman Balilo yesterday said that the 56-year-old Efren Ledesma, captain of the LPG carrier M/T Deborah Uno, who issued the order to abandon ship, perished. The incident happened at around 4 a.m. yesterday.
The 294 gross ton vessel was reportedly at the Lamao Anchorage when the order to abandon ship was issued.
Eight crewmen survived the sea incident and were identified as Victor Glenn Mariposque, 38, of Cebu; Rolando Billones, 65, of La Union; Jessie Almario, 61, Malabon; Dennis Ramos, 32, Malabon; Ancel Fernandez, 32, Binondo; Mario Francisco, 35, Iloilo; Marvin Espino, 34, Dinalupihan, Bataan; and Jorlan Dupio, 29, Alabang, Muntinlupa.
Balilo said they have yet to determine how Ledesma died and the reason behind the sea mishap.
The PCG also rescued two crewmen of the barge LB1015, which was being towed by tugboat T/Side Winder.
The barge’s towing line got entangled with the propeller of the tugboat, thus causing it to experience engine trouble near the vicinity of San Nicholas Shoal.
Two of the nine crewmen on board the tugboat and the barge suffered injuries. The barge, which carried molasses, sank six nautical miles of Sangley Point in Cavite.
It was at about this time when the F/B Justin, which carried seven fishermen, went down. “The tugboat Sidewinder was able to rescue one of the fishermen because he was clinging to the side of the boat. The six other fishermen are still missing,” Balilo said.
A second fishing boat, F/B Angelika, with 16 passengers on board, sank off Manila Bay.
Only eight of the crew were rescued by a passing Australian vessel M/V Anagel Pride near Lokanin Point in Bataan.
Stranded
As of 10 a.m. yesterday, the PCG Action Center reported that there were 4,739 passengers stranded in three regions, with 3,670 from the National Capital Region (NCR). A majority or 2,470 of them were passengers of SuperFerry whose terminal is located at the Eva Macapagal Terminal, South Harbor while 1,200 came from the North Harbor.
There were also reports of passengers staying in five ports in Southern Tagalog: 150 in Batangas; 170 in Lucena, Quezon; 630 in Calapan, Oriental Mindoro; 38 in San Jose, Occidental Mindoro; and 62 in Puerto Real, Quezon.
The PCG prohibited a total of 32 vessels, 29 motorized bancas and 167 rolling cargoes from sailing.
Rescue efforts stalled
Meanwhile, water and aerial search teams carrying out rescue efforts for the missing fishermen in the Bicol region were stalled due to zero visibility.
Raffy Alejandro, Bicol director of the Office of Civil Defense (OCD), said that the helicopter provided by the Philippine Air Force’s Tactical Operations Group 5 aborted its aerial search due to zero visibility prevailing over Catanduanes.
Ensign Dante Ramon, spokesman of Philippine Navy (PN) in Bicol, also confirmed that big waves prevented the Navy ship PG 374 manned by Commander Federico Alcantara from conducting search and rescue operations in the areas where the three to four fishing vessels could have capsized. – With reports from Evelyn Macairan, Alexis Romero, Ed Amoroso, Raffy Viray, Ric Sapnu, Mike Frialde, Ding Cervantes, Cet Dematera, Michelle Zoleta, Celso Amo, AP
It’s amazing how three weeks can change your perspective on a city. When I first arrived in Manila, I found it incredibly intimidating – even more so than New York City. The metro Manila area is comprised of 16 cities, spans nearly 250 square miles, and has a population of nearly 11.5 million people. It is also incredibly diverse – you can find nearly anything in the city, and I learn new things about it each day. I have learned to love living here, but once in a while, a break from the city is a good. So, that’s what I did this weekend.
Early Sunday morning, fellow Fulbrighter Jessica and I hopped on a bus destined for Los Banos, Laguna (see photo above), about 2 hours south of Quezon City. As we ambled out of the city, the landscape changed from a densely-populated concrete jungle to acres of vast farmland. Greenery! Oh how I’ve missed thee.
Los Banos is located on the northern slopes of dormant volcano Mount Makiling and is famous for the hot springs that dot the area. Once we arrived, Naomi, another Fulbrighter based there, met us at the 88 Resort (see photo on right). The resort had several springs labeled warm (36C), hot (40C), hotter (43C), hottest (46C – that’s about 114 Fahrenheit), plus a cool pool and a bubbling Jacuzzi (see photo: Naomi and me at the hot springs). It was positively glorious. We slipped in and out of the various pools, sipped tropical drinks, and gazed at the stunning scenery for the better part of the day. In the afternoon, we all enjoyed massages at the resort. What a great way to unwind.
I’m perpetually amazed by the incredible diversity of this country. Comparing the bustling streets of Makati,the business district of metro-Manila, to the majestic tropical forestry-clad Mount Makiling (see photo: Jessica and me in front of Mount Makiling) and relaxing hot springs in Laguna – it’s hard to believe they’re less than 100 miles apart. Even within a city like Manila, the incredible infrastructure and squatter villages can be found less than a mile from each other.
In the evening, Naomi and I decided to go in search of buko pie (young coconut meat in a pastry shell) and cassava cake, two Laguna specialties. They’re supposedly pretty easy to find in Los Banos, but we had a bit of difficulty. After wandering up and down the highway and through various markets for nearly an hour, we finally found a shop with both warm tasty treats and hastily bought them (see photo). Once we got back to Naomi’s apartment, we devoured the goodies and took a short nap before waking up for the World Cup finals at 2:30 a.m.
I don’t have strong allegiances to Spain or the Netherlands, but I decided to cheer on Spain for this game. The setup for the game in Los Banos was awesome. One of Naomi’s friends ordered satellite television and all the guests brought food and drinks to share. People from the Netherlands, Spain, New Zealand, the Philippines, the USA, and other countries gathered in the living on to root for their teams. While most of the games we watched in Manila were a bit disappointing (i.e. nobody understood what was going on and cheered whenever anyone kicked the ball in any direction), this certainly wasn’t a let down. For those of you who didn’t watch the game, let’s just say it was intense. Nobody scored a goal until 28 minutes into overtime (nearly 5 a.m.), and when Spain won, we all went wild! Viva Espana!
By the time we left the house, the sun was already rising, casting a stunning orange-pink glow on the rice fields and creating a surrealistic haze around Mount Makiling. We drove briefly through University of the Philippines – Los Banos and the International Rice Research Institute back to the apartment, but since it was already light outside, we decided to take the bus back to Manila immediately rather than sleeping for a few hours first. Bad choice. The bus was jam packed – we were crushed standing in the middle of the aisle– and we hadn’t slept at all. That combined with three hours of terrible traffic and bumpy roads didn’t exactly make it the most pleasant trip ever. Nevertheless, I enjoyed our relaxing weekend getaway in Los Banos. Now, back to city life.
When you think of the Fulbright, what do you think of? When I was in high school – and even in college – I thought the only people who got the Fulbright Grant were genius nerds from Ivy League schools. They had to live, work, and breathe their research. It was the only way to receive such an honor, right?
I couldn’t have been farther off the mark.
During my past few weeks in the Philippines, I have gotten to know several Fulbright Scholars here (see photo: generations of Fulbrighters and friends that link them all). Although I am the first from my “batch,” several Fulbrighters from last year are still in the Philippines, and they have introduced me to Fulbrighters from previous years. Each and every one of them has certainly blown my mind as far as intellectual capability – but all of them are incredibly kind, helpful, and over all personable individuals, too. I haven’t met a single “nerd.” So much for my stereotype.
I don’t know how exactly it started, but it’s kind of like a family. A few locals befriended a couple of Fulbrighters years ago and started a tradition that continues to this day (see photo: locals Denise and Ryan with and me). I’m actually quite surprised how many Fulbrighters (especially Phil-Ams) return to the Philippines to research, work, or live after the grant ends. Whatever the case, they are all phenomenal people. I don’t know how I would have survived the first few weeks without the support and advice of the Fulbrighters and their group of friends.
The Fulbright projects are absolutely fantastic. I attended my first two end-of-grant presentations just a week after my arrival and was very impressed with the caliber of work I saw. One Fulbright Scholar conducted research on the impact of call centers on labor migration and another one set up marine protected areas (see photo: Guia, Dianne, me, Chris, and Erin at Chris’s despidida). These are the type of projects that can really create positive change in the local community and even in the world.
The mission of the Fulbright program is to facilitate cultural exchange. In creating the program, founder and Arkansas senator William J. Fulbright stated, “Why not create a program that would take students from as many countries as possible studying in the United States and young Americans studying – and living and getting to know people – in Europe, Asia, Africa, the rest of the western hemisphere, and the Pacific?” Fulbright himself traveled extensively through Eastern Europe and was a Rhodes scholar, so he understood the value of educational exchange.
“The prejudices and misconceptions which exist in every country regarding foreign people are the great barrier to many systems of government,” Fulbright said. “If, however, the people’s of the world could get to know each other better, live together and learn side by side, maybe they would be more inclined to cooperate and less willing to go off and kill each other.”
Authorized by President Truman on August 1, 1946, the first Fulbright exchange took place in 1948, bringing 35 students and one professor to the USA and sending 65 Americans overseas. Now, more than a quarter million people from 150 countries have participated in the Fulbright program. Historian Arnold Toynbee called the Fulbright program “one of the really generous and imaginative things that has ever been done since World War II” and the U.S. State Department lauded it as “the most fabulously profitable investment ever authorized by Congress.” I agree. Well done, Congress. Well done (see photo of three generations of Philippines Fulbright Scholars: me ’10, Alex ’08, Jessica ’09).
Yellow shirts, yellow umbrellas, yellow signs, yellow confetti. The bright family color of incoming president Benigno “Noynoy” Aquino III was everywhere; it was more than enough to make up for sun hiding behind the charcoal clouds. Jubilant shouts of “Noynoy! Noynoy! Noynoy!” rang throughout Rizal Park as crowds pressed into the Quirino Grandstand. An ambiance of exultation and excitement filled the air. This is June 30, 2010: Inauguration Day (see photo).
More than half a million Filipinos and about 80 foreign dignitaries attended Benigno “Noynoy” Aquino III’s inauguration as the country’s 15th president (see photo, courtesy of AP). Noynoy, son of beloved former president Corazon Aquino and revolution leader Benigno “Ninoy” Aquino II, has promised to combat the culture of impunity, fight poverty, and revise the country’s archaic judicial system. He also pledged to set up a Truth Commission to investigate corruption claims against his predecessor, nine-year president Gloria Macapagal-Arroyo
“Today our dreams start to become a reality,” Aquino said in his inaugural address. “It’s the end of a leadership that has long been insensitive to the suffering of the people.”
However, Aquino said he fears people may expect too much of him too soon. In recent weeks, he addressed the public saying things like, “I’m not superman,” and “I only have six years.”
Attending the Aquino inauguration was absolutely one of the most exhilarating things I have ever done. I didn’t just attend the inauguration though, I actually helped the BBC’s Manila correspondent Kate McGeown cover it. It really was a “God thing.” A few days ago, one of my fellow Fulbrighters mentioned that the BBC correspondent in Manila was looking for an intern or someone to help out occasionally with stories since she is a “one-man band”. Seizing the opportunity, I sent the correspondent a text message and offered to help whenever she needed anything. She quickly replied and asked if I could help with the inauguration. I nearly died of excitement.
We arrived early and set up the equipment for Kate to do a live chat with the BBC World Radio. As we were setting up behind the Quirino Grandstand, Noynoy’s presidential motorcade drove right by us. He exited just yards from where we were stationed. Since Kate had a live chat scheduled with the radio program during the program, she sent me out to get natural sound and a few soundbytes for a radio package, as well as text her tidbits of information from the inaugural address for her to use in her live two-way.
The crowd went wild as Aquino talked about his plans for the new administration. The people I interviewed came from across the archipelago, from northern Luzon to Mindanao. All had high hopes for Noynoy to create a new, better Philippines. After the inauguration itself was over, I taped Kate’s piece-to-camera for BBC World News Television, helped her with her live radio and television hits, logged soundbytes, typed script, and edited a quick video. I got to do a little bit of everything – from interviews and taping to writing and editing. Thank you, TCU, for teaching me convergence. If I didn’t have such quality training on all different platforms, there is no way I would have been competent enough to do everything that Kate gave me today.
Although the attending the inauguration and witnessing history was incredible in itself, even more amazing was experiencing the life of an international correspondent. Everyone that I had spoken to about it before said it was difficult, but nothing could have prepared me for this. We worked from 8:30 a.m. until 10:30 p.m., and she produced multiple pieces for online, radio, and television. We ate nothing all day and carried loads of heavy equipment across the park in scorching heat and humidity. I got sunburned (despite the cloudcover), dehydrated, bug-bitten, and swarmed by crowds. It was a hard day – and I was just the intern – but I loved it. Even more so than all my previous internships and experiences combined, this experience confirmed that international journalism is my passion.
Have you ever swam in the ocean and suddenly been sucked under by the waves? I have. It’s a very overwhelming and disorienting experience. No matter how much I tried to resist the current, it just pulled me deeper and deeper under. If by some miracle I managed to catch a breath, it was only for a second before another wave crashed over me again, stifling any air that I had.
I’m not writing this because I nearly drowned by any means (in fact, I haven’t even been to the beach yet), but I’m writing this because it’s exactly how I feel about life. Instead of the waves being bad though, these waves that overcome me are blessings and the ocean is God’s love. I’m literally drowning in my Heavenly Father’s love; He has given me so much that I simply can’t contain it all (see photo: new friends JR, Soleil, me, and Rodell after a World Cup watch party).
If you read my last post, you could probably tell that I was feeling very overwhelmed my first few days here. I’m still overwhelmed, but this time the deluge is an outburst of blessings instead of shock. It feels like God literally opened up the floodgates of heaven and dumped an outpouring of goodness on my life. Just when I thought I couldn’t be anymore blessed, God sends another completely unexpected flood of miracles. I don’t even know where to begin.
Let’s start where I left off. The morning after I moved into my residence, I started doing some research and attempting to establish connections with potential interviewees. I planned on spending my entire first two months here doing that and didn’t have too much success at first. It was rather disheartening. Midway through the day though, a very sweet girl who also lived in the residence came up to my room and started talking to me. She radiated joy and brightened my spirits just by being in the same room. During our conversation, she mentioned that her father was in Marcos’ presidential guard. She said she might be able to help me find interviewees with people through that. In the evening, my roommate arrived home. We spend the next several hours talking about Christ and his abundant blessings. Another resident in the house also was a Christian and offered to take me to her church, Victory – Quezon City, on Sunday. It was a fantastic church that burned with a desire for more of the Lord. How amazing Christ provided me with at least two Christian sisters in the first week and a way to get plugged into a local church!
Over the weekend, I received a text from a fellow Fulbrighter about the opportunity to intern with the BBC correspondent in Manila. I just stared at my phone for about a minute when I got the text. Was this real? Would I honestly have the opportunity to work with an international correspondent in the Philippines? I simply couldn’t believe it! Later in the week when I was at a friend’s café (see photo: awesome “Cycle of Life” tea at Manila Collective), someone heard me talking about journalism and said he was also a journalist. He then promptly offered to introduce me to sources at the Philippine Center for Investigative Journalism (PCIJ), the National Union of Philippine Journalists (NUPJ), and the Center for Media Freedom and Responsibility (CMFR) and even said he might be able to get me a writing fellowship at the PCIJ. It was as if my dream had just come hurling out of nowhere and slapped me in the facing saying, “Here I am. I’m ready when you are.” That was just the beginning.
Nearly ever night of the week, I met friends and friends of friends at different events and dinners. Not only were each of these precious people kind and welcoming, they were also eager to help me establish connections for my project and provided me with contact information for people who participated in the People Power Revolution, covered it, or had access to video archives from it. It was as if sources gravitated to me wherever I went, from comedy clubs and World Cup watch parties to coffee shops and universities (see photo: Erin and me at Global City). Never have I felt so overcome by the Lord’s grace. I wasn’t even looking for sources and they came to me.
Even better than the “professional” network, however, are the personal relationships. When I first arrived in the Philippines, I had a lot of fears, but none of them surpassed the fear of “not making friends.” Looking back at the past two weeks, the thought is laughable. God has brought so many kind and amazing people into my life (see photo: Guia and me eating the best cupcakes in the Philippines). Without any hesitation, they welcome me into their circles and offer to help. It’s like I have a big family of older brothers and sisters who will help me, support me, and mentor me in every way.
I could write so much more about the myriad of ways that God is working in my life, but if this isn’t proof that I serve an almighty God who works miracles big and small, I don’t know what is. My God really is an awesome God.
Comparing the Philippines to the USA is like comparing apples to oranges – or maybe a better analogy: apples to mangos (my favorite tropical fruit). They’re so different, and both are unique and wonderful in their own way. There’s no way I can give you a complete glimpse of Filipino culture in a single blog, but let me try. Here’s a taste of one day in my life:
You’d think that as a well-travelled, flexible individual, I’d know what I was getting into by moving to the Philippines. I had visited it twice before and had been to 37 countries for goodness sake. In all my travels, I had never truly experienced culture shock. Yes I was surprised by some things I had seen in my travels, but I had grown and learned to adapt very quickly. I had never really felt “overwhelmed” by another culture before. This week, I did.
It all started when I moved into my new home (see photo) on Wednesday. Maxine, the wonderful landlady for the residence, picked me up at 10 a.m. and drove me from Makati (in southern metro Manila) to Quezon City (in northern metro Manila). We were supposed to meet at 8 a.m., but due to the ridiculous Manila traffic and some other setbacks, it turned into 10 a.m. Lesson 1 for the day: learn to live on Filipino time (late). Timeliness is very important to me because of my type-A personality, but I’m sure I’ll learn to adjust over the next nine months.
Once I arrived at the residence, I started pulling my bags out of the car and lugging them upstairs to my room. Suddenly two women ran up to me and tried to take the bags from me. They were the maids for the house. I insisted that I could carry my bags myself, but I guess they didn’t quite understand. Lesson 2: just let the maids do what they want to do. I mean, I guess I’m ok with not cleaning house and doing chores like that. ☺
Everyone was shocked that I had SO MUCH LUGGAGE. Ok, I guess three bags is a lot, but I thought it was decent for nine months. After all, I did have to bring my printer and all my video equipment. Lesson 3: I – and most Americans in general– are ridiculously blessed and materialistic. We have so much “stuff” compared to those who live on bare essentials (if that). I must learn to live more simply.
Afterward, I started unpacking, exploring the house, and reading the rules. I think this is where the culture shock really hit. The house is ina gated subdivision called PhilamHomes and is very conveniently located by two malls and a public transportation terminal. Right now, about 28 young Filipina women live in this house. One reason I chose to live here rather than an upscale apartment was to immerse myself in the culture – and this is definitely immersing me in the culture already. Everyone is incredibly nice (much nicer than the average stranger in America), but since their primary language is Tagalog, I definitely have a language barrier. The home is simple, but sufficient. We have a kitchen with a stove, microwave, and refrigerator (but no oven), a very nice living and dining area (see photo) with cable television (woot!), a few bathrooms, a great veranda (seephoto), an outdoor laundry area – for hand laundry, and several bedrooms. Each of the bedrooms is equipped with four to probably 12 wooden bunk beds (thankfully I’m staying in aroom with four), some cabinets, and a few fans. I am also blessed to have a desk to do my research. But basically, my bed is my only “me” space. I don’t have any sort of private area. Since the room was a bit sparse, I quickly covered my bed and my section of the wall next to it with tons of photos and notes that people have written (see photo). For those of you familiar with my “wall of love” at TCU, think that on a smaller scale.
As far as amenities: we have three hours of air conditioning a day. Note that it can get up to 104-degrees here and humidity is ridiculous. The fans help some, but nothing can replace the good old A/C. We also have a limited amount of electricity per day and are allowed to charge our laptops and cell phones for 50-minutes each. Gulp. Yeah, um, that’s going to take some work on my part. Oh and the shower. The shower is clean, but there’s no door. It seems to be working every other day; the rest of the time, I use a large bucket filled with water that sits beside it. Lesson 4: Conserve conserve conserve! Electricity, water, air conditioning, food…I need to stop taking basic necessities for granted. They aren’t so basic any more.
But anyway, I like my new home for the most part and I look forward to really jumping in with both feet! In the afternoon, Maxine and her mom gave me “Filipino Culture 101.” Basically, this was my crash course on how to act, look, dress, and speak for the next nine months. I think I nearly started crying halfway through it. I have SO much to learn and it’s all hitting me at once. Lesson 5: Just go with the flow and lay low until I know what to do.
Later, we took a jeepney to University of the Philippines-Diliman (see photo). This is the school where I’ll be conducting my Fulbright research. Again, culture shock. UP is one of the world’s best schools, but it’s quite different from what I’m used to. I came from a mid-sized, private university in the American midwest (about 7,500 students) that was always constructing newer and better buildings. This is a huge (about 23,000 students) public university in the Philippines with 94 academic programs. The campus is gigantic and the facilities are much older, but it has a very prestigious feel to it. Most people get around in campus jeepneys. I don’t quite know how to describe them, but they’re basically really bright and colorful, crowded, open-air minibuses. Maxine showed me around a few of the buildings, and, of course we got lost. Lesson 6: Get used to very vague directions. Maybe I should just get a map and figure everything out myself.
By this time, you can imagine that I was quite overwhelmed. What better to squelch that culture shock than hanging out with Americans? So I did. But first, I had to get there. Maybe using public transit during rush hour isn’t the best idea, but that thought didn’t even cross my mind. As soon as I bought my ticket for the MRT (like the subway, but above ground), I was thrown into a sea of people – pushing, pulling, and jostling to get a space on the next train. Lesson 7: Don’t travel in rush hour. Manila traffic is terrible (Think New York City rush hour traffic times a billion). No matter what method of transit you choose – taxi, MRT, tricycle, jeepney – you WILL be late. Thankfully, I managed to squeeze in and find my way to Cubao, just a few stops away. Jessica and Chris, two Fulbrighters from last year who were still in Manila, met me for dinner and showed me around the area.
After dinner, we took a public bus (yet another culture shock) to a small Hungarian restaurant to watch the World Cup: USA vs. Algeria and England vs. Slovenia. While we were there, a group of tall, good-looking Filipinos came in and started cheering for the USA and England. After a few moments, we noticed they didn’t have Filipino accents – instead they spoke in perfect American or British accents. It really was a great game, and afterward we started talking to the mysterious group about it. Apparently, these men were all on the Filipino National Football team – and most of them were “imports” from the USA and England. Talk about serendipity! They invited us to an exclusive party with them, but we were so stunned that we just answered with “Uh, I don’t know. Uh maybe. Uh uh.” Once we had clearer minds, we tried to find them at a nearby club. Alas, no luck. Next time, we’ll know better.
I tried to catch a cab back to my residence around 11 p.m. and waited on the curb for about 30 minutes – flagging every cab I saw. During that time, only three of the taxis pulled over – two said my apartment was too far away and they didn’t feel like going there and one insisted on a 300 peso surcharge. Um, no. Lesson 8: People WILL try to take advantage of my “American-ness.” Don’t let them. Thankfully, Jessica just let me crash at her place for the night and I took the MRT back in the morning.
So, that’s a day in my life. I don’t believe in a hierarchy of cultures – and I don’t believe apples are better than mangos (or vice versa) – I believe each and every country has its own pros and cons, its own gems and junk. There is so much more to say about the Filipino culture, but I simply can’t fit into a single post. I know I’ll be writing more as the months progress, but after hearing about this day maybe you can understand why I was, for the first time ever, culture-shocked.
You know the great thing about jet lag (well, going west)? It’s so easy to wake up early! I was up and alert at 5:45 a.m., ready for my first day of Fulbright orientation. Now, everyone says that breakfast is the most important meal of the day. I personally question that since I rarely eat breakfast, but since I’m starting a new life over here, I decided to try to adopt some good habits – like eating breakfast. I was not prepared for the breakfast included with my hotel though: pasta, chicken, rice, and papaya. I love pasta. It’s not the normal “oh hey, let’s cook spaghetti once a month” type of thing either; I have a fetish for it. I’ll eat it for lunch, dinner, midnight snack – pretty much any time (maybe because it’s the only thing I can cook well, but that’s another story). I had never had it for breakfast though. Trying to be flexible, I hesitantly swirled the pesto-drenched noodles and took a bite. Wasn’t bad, but it will take some adjusting, as will everything else, I’m sure.
The Philippine-American Educational Foundation (PAEF) picked me up at 8:30 a.m. and took me to the office. PAEF (pronounced Pahy-eff) is the organization that administers the Fulbright Grant in the Philippines. After filling out some immigration forms and doing other paperwork, they took me to deposit my first check and open my bank account into which they’ll deposit my monthly stipends. Right now, the Philippine peso to U.S. dollar exchange rate is about .45 to 1. So, 1 dollar is about 45 pesos. I’m going to get really good at dividing by 45 over the next nine months. We finished day one by driving up to Quezon City in northern metro Manila to see the house in which I’ll be staying. Maxine, the landlady, was very welcoming and gave us a tour of the house and the gated community, Philam Homes.
The next day, most of the PAEF staff oriented me to the process of doing a Fulbright Grant in the Philippines and living in the country. They shared basic safety tips (use a metered taxi, watch out for pickpockets, etc.), tidbits about the culture, information about grant financing, and, of course, a research outline. I must admit that orientation was a bit of a shock – just being inundated with so much information and such – but I know that everything will work out just fine. I absolutely love everyone in the PAEF office. They are incredibly helpful and very nice. After orientation was finished, I got an awesome Fulbright ID that says, “The bearer [of this card] is a Fulbright Scholar…The Philippine American Educational Foundation sponsors the participant’s program in the Philippines. All courtesies, assistance, and cooperation extended to the bearer will be greatly appreciated.” Awesome. The only thing better than this Fulbright business cards (which I’ll be getting soon).
I spent the evening exploring Glorietta Mall and Greenbelt Mall in Makati and watching Toy Story 3 (I was super excited that it was showing here since I didn’t get to see it before leaving). Greenbelt Mall is definitely one of the more upscale malls here in Manila with stores like Prada, Gucci, and Louis Vuitton. The park in the center of Greenbelt was positively stunning. Palm trees laced in lights towered over a picturesque stream and waterfall while a Catholic mass in Tagalog was going on in a white dome in the center. I’ve only been here two days, but I am already loving it.
I know this is rather unrelated, but this was the front page headline of the Philippine Inquirer my first day in Manila: “Another journalist killed – Digos writer third media fatality listed in five days.” I won’t go into too much detail since the article pretty much covers it, but the Philippines is one of the most dangerous places in the world for journalists, right after Iran and Afghanistan. No need to worry though – most of the media killings are in Mindanao, the southern region of the Philippines where I won’t be going (plus I have God’s guardian angels around me). The sad thing is that it’s government officials who are responsible for them. Read this article for more information.
Another journalist killed
Digos writer 3rd media fatality listed in 5 days
By Orlando Dinoy, Inquirer Mindanao
MANILA, Philippines—A journalist was killed on Saturday in Digos City, Davao del Sur, bringing to three the number of media workers slain in just five days.
Nestor Bedolido, a writer for the local weekly Kastigador, was buying cigarettes at the corner of Rizal and Quezon avenues when a man shot him at past 7 p.m., police said.
During the elections, Bedolido was suspected of writing exposés against a politician in Davao del Sur.
“I believe the killing of my father is politically motivated. There is a politician involved,” his son, Marxlen, 22, told reporters.
Bedolido, in his late 40s, became the 103rd media worker murdered in the country since President Gloria Macapagal-Arroyo came to power in 2001.
On Monday night, a broadcaster was shot dead in Mindanao. Less than 24 hours after, a radio commentator was gunned down in northern Luzon.
The murder of the three journalists came after the expiration on June 9 of the five-month gun ban, which was imposed in connection with the May 10 general elections.
Inquirer archives show that no journalist was killed during the election campaign when the gun ban was in effect.
In November 2009, 32 media workers were among the 57 people killed in a massacre blamed on a political warlord in Maguindanao.
The Philippines is considered one of the most dangerous places in the world for journalists.
Chief Insp. Anthony Padua said Bedolido was hit six times in the body.
After shooting Bedolido, the killer casually walked to a waiting motorcycle driven by a still unidentified man, Padua said.
Padua said bystanders rushed the journalist to Gonzales Hospital. In a report, police said Bedolido was pronounced dead on arrival at the hospital.
Padua said the police were still trying to investigate the motive and identity of the killer. The weekly that Bedolido was writing for was allegedly financed by a group of politicians.
Critic of illegal logging
The two broadcasters killed earlier in the week were known to be critics of illegal loggers and corrupt officials.
On the night of June 14, Desidario Camangyan, 52, was killed while hosting a singing contest in Manay town, Davao Oriental province.
As Camangyan of Sunrise FM in Mati City was introducing a contestant, a lone assailant sneaked from behind and shot him in the head.
The broadcaster was killed in full view of the audience, including his wife and 6-year-old son.
Camangyan was known for speaking out against powerful groups involved in illegal logging in Davao Oriental.
Motorcycle-riding gunmen
The next day, radio commentator Joselito Agustin was gunned down by motorcycle-riding men in Ilocos Norte.
Agustin, 37, of dzJC Aksyon Radyo in Laoag City, died while undergoing treatment at the hospital. He had just come from his dzJC radio program, “Laoag City by day, Ilocos Norte by night.”
He was known as an outspoken critic of corrupt local officials.
Killing spree
The National Union of Journalists of the Philippines (NUJP) condemned the killings and pressed President-elect Benigno Aquino III to ensure the murders were quickly solved.
“The enemies of press freedom are on a killing spree,” said NUJP vice chair Nonoy Espina.
“But it is more than that. It shows that the level of impunity is just so high that they believe they can get away with murder no matter who sits as president,” Espina added. “Aquino has to hit the ground running from Day One.”
Detlev Mehlis, who leads an EU-funded program helping to train police and prosecutors in solving the killings, said he was outraged by the wave of murders this week.
“This is simply unacceptable. In a democracy, freedom of the press is essential,” Mehlis told Agence France Presse.
“It’s the job of government to protect its people. These crimes should be solved and we are ready to assist in any way we can.”
A human rights watchdog said the killing of Camangyan showed that outgoing President Arroyo was leaving a legacy of impunity.
“Camangyan was apparently among the few who stood and defied the consequences and was bold enough to denounce the environmental plunder and political abuse. His killers knew that Camangyan was a threat who must be stopped,” said Bishop Felixberto Calang, one of the convenors of Barug Katungod Mindanao.
Indignation rally
Calang said his group was holding Ms Arroyo accountable for the deaths of Camangyan and those of other human rights defenders and journalists killed under her administration.
In Laoag City, Melvin de la Cuesta, president of the Media Active in Ilocos Norte, said local media workers planned to mount a rally next week to express their grief over Agustin’s slaying and to protest the inability of the government to stop the attacks on journalists.
Nora Root, a dzJC commentator and Agustin’s friend, said she and her colleagues would continue to make noise until the brains behind the murder was identified and jailed.
Reporters, anchors and other station personnel have started wearing white ribbons to mourn Agustin’s death and to protest against people behind the killing.
Root said dzJC commentators were mindful of the fact that all the Ilocos Norte broadcasters shot dead over the past six years came from dzJC. Roger Mariano and Andy Acosta, both dzJC commentators, were gunned down in 2004 and 2006, respectively.
“This pattern has made us more conscious of our responsibilities as truth tellers. We have been advised to revisit the Radio Code as our ultimate safeguard,” Root said.
Suspect identified
Earlier, Chief Supt. Constante Azares Jr., Ilocos police director, said the case could be considered solved with the identification of the suspected gunman.
Azares said murder charges would be filed against Leonardo Banaag, a Bacarra resident, who was tagged as the suspected trigger man in the June 15 attack on Agustin.
Banaag and another suspect, however, have yet to be arrested.
With reports from Jeffrey M. Tupas, Inquirer Mindanao; Cristina Arzadon, Inquirer Northern Luzon; and Agence France-Presse
It’s hard to believe it’s finally here. After months of writing and revising my Fulbright application, weeks of preparation to travel, and days of anticipation about the journey, I finally begin my nine and a half month voyage to the Philippines. My whole family escorted me to the airport bright and early. As they bid me farewell, they gave me three pearls of wisdom.
First came my dad’s advice: sleep. Anyone who knows me well understands that I don’t sleep a lot. In fact, I was pretty proud of myself for getting an hour and fifteen minutes last night – I thought my excitement would prevent me from getting any! Apparently it’s not normal for most people to live on two to three hours of sleep a night though, and dad thought I would function better if I started practicing “normal person” habits. Next came my mom’s advice: drink water. This is yet another “normal person” habit that I’m not too fond of. I think I just forget that water exists since I consume such large amounts of caffeine. Mom warned that in a climate as hot as the Philippines, drinking one glass of water per week might not suffice. Lastly my sister gave her warning: just don’t die. In fact, that’s probably the advice that I’ve gotten most before this trip – from friends, family, and mentors. Whenever I tell people I’m going to the Philippines, the first thing to come out of their mouth about 75 percent of the time is “Don’t die.” To those of you who gave me that advice, let me offer you some consolation: I’m not planning on it. Yes I am a semi-risky person and will go pretty far to get a story, but I promise that I’ll take extra precautions and listen to my Spirit. I certainly will miss my family and friends while I’m overseas, but I can’t emphasize enough how excited I am about this opportunity. And, with Skype, email, and social networking, I’m not too concerned about keeping in touch with everyone back in the States.
Before I knew it, I was up, up, and away to the first of two layovers: Salt Lake City, Utah. Now, I as I wrote earlier, I tend to overpack. This was particularly evident in my “personal item” carry on. This purse was no ordinary purse; it was more like a 35-pound monster stuffed to the brim with about 15 books (not like I thought I’d read all of them on the plane; they just didn’t fit anywhere else). Thankfully, my roll-on carry on was gate checked to SLC for free since we were on a small plane. As I was trying to hoist the “purse” over my shoulder on the jetway though, the bag swung and nearly knocked me over the railing since it was so heavy. Near death experience #1 and I hadn’t even left Albuquerque!
The 2-hour flight to Utah was relatively uneventful, as was the layover. A few hours later, I boarded the plane to Narita/Tokyo Japan – but not before another adventure. This escapade was caused by nothing else but my height. Now, in order to get the right picture, you have to understand that I am 4 feet, 9.5 inches tall (I’ve been that height since 7th grade). Since I was seated in a bulkhead window seat (last minute seat change because I was assigned to a middle seat and hate that), my roll-on suitcase and my monster purse had to go in the overhead compartments. No big deal, right? Wrong. As I attempted to swing my carryon over my head to the compartment, I realized that no matter how much I stood on my tiptoes, the bag just wouldn’t make it. This is usually when a nice, tall man comes up to me and asks if he can help. Not this time though. Instead, people just walked past and stared at me as I held this 35-pound suitcase over my head. I decided to start jumping with the suitcase in an attempt to reach the overhead compartment, yet I was still met with blank stares. After several minutes, a man who had been sitting behind me the whole time grudgingly stood up and helped me secure my bags. Seconds later, I realized I forgot my fork for lunch in my purse. So, I promptly stood on the seat and thrust my arm into the deep, dark pits of the overhead compartment, trying to find it. Before I knew it, I was hanging from the overhead compartment like a chimpanzee, holding on for dear life with one hand, while frantically feeling around for my fork with the other. No luck equals no lunch.
But anyway, back to the plane ride. Even in something as simple as a seating change, I could see God working. I ended up sitting next to a Filipina named Andrea who was also flying to Manila on my same flight later on. We exchanged stories for quite a while. She had some fantastic insight into the workings of EDSA 1 and Filipino culture. When we weren’t talking, I spent my time watching in-flight movies, reading, and attempting to sleep (the key word is attempting). Once we landed in Narita (Tokyo), Japan, Andrea and I transferred to our next flight. We freaked out for a few minutes when the departures information board was in Japanese characters, but thankfully, they soon switched to English characters, allowing us to find our next flight without too many problems. I hope to come back to Tokyo sometime soon; but just in case, I got some genuine Japanese food (as genuine as airport food can get) for the flight.
At 10:10 p.m. Sunday, right on schedule and 26.5 hours after leaving home, my flight finally touched down at Manila Ninoy AquinoInternational Airport (NAIA), named after the political hero who was killed by dictator Ferdinand Marcos’ troops on the tarmac while returning from political exile. A think blanket of humidity cloaked the jetway, immediately bringing back memories from last time I was here. Immigration and customs were relatively quick and simple. After tracking down my bags, I hopped into the car that PAEF (Philippine-American Educational Foundation) booked for me and zipped off to the hotel. The driver and I made small talk about music, culture, and other random stuff. When I mentioned I was a journalist, however, he told me I was wrong to go into that profession. “It’s too dangerous,” he scolded me. “You’re going to get killed.” I don’t know about you, but I think that’s kind of deep to say to someone you just met. Oh well. Sensing my apprehension and trying to lighten the mood a bit, he asked if I was engaged. “No?” He was appalled. His tone implied some to the effect of “What’s wrong with you?” Um nothing, good sir. I just don’t want to date. Is that ok? Apparently not. For those of you keeping count of my marriage proposals (I know I have at least 5 friends doing so), you may mark your tally for the first marriage proposal of my tenure in the Philippines. It’s all in good fun and don’t worry – I’m here for much more important reasons than dating. Within a few minutes, I arrived at the BSA Suites hotel in Makati (one of the 16 cities that makes up metro Manila) and, exhausted, slept soundly for the first time in about 50 hours.
My life could not be more perfect. Honestly, I love my life and cannot imagine anything better what God has given me. As I reflect on the past year – my journey to the Fulbright – I can see God’s mighty hand so clearly in ordaining each of my steps. This is my story.
It all started in spring 2008. That semester, I took an honors sophomore composition class with Dr. Ron Pitcock, Wilson Honors Fellow and TCU’s Fulbright Program adviser (also one of the coolest professors on the planet). One day as I was sitting in his office, he randomly mentioned that I should apply for the Fulbright. As a sophomore, I thanked him, but dismissed the thought in my mind. I had my own goals and ambitions; I wanted to be an anchor at a big New York network. Yes I liked traveling, but I knew that in order to reach my goal at the time, I needed every year of experience I could get.
That summer, I interned at FOX News Channel in New York City (and loved every second of it). The hands-on internship renewed my passion for news and reaffirmed my desire to one day sit in an anchor chair. In fall 2008 though, God decided to start unveiling His plan for me. I spent that semester studying abroad in London, England (see photo: me at Houses of Parliament in London). While abroad, I both took classes and did an internship at the CBS News London Bureau. Although I had traveled extensively before studying abroad, the experience of living in another country and working at an international news bureau changed my perspective on life and news. When I returned to TCU the next spring, I had new goals and ambitions. No longer was my dream to sit in the anchor chair; instead, I wanted report on international issues. Participating in Model United Nations in spring 2009 heightened my desire to work in the global community and narrowed my focus to international humanitarian and political topics. By the end of the semester, I had a clear vision of God’s plan for my life. I just didn’t know how to get there.
But God did. In April 2009, Dr. Pitcock again mentioned that he thought I should apply for the Fulbright and recommended I start thinking of possible projects. Since I was no longer so narrow-minded about my future, I decided to actually give his suggestion a bit more thought. It wouldn’t hurt to apply. After talking with Dr. Pitcock and my parents, I decided to apply for a Fulbright Grant to the Philippines, my father’s native land. Not only did I have a personal connection to the country, but its rich history and culture also provided a perfect opportunity to study media as it relates to politics. By “chance,” around the same time that I decided to apply for the grant, my father decided that we should visit the Philippines in May to see his mother. Thinking ahead, I asked if we could pay a visit to University of the Philippines – Diliman (see photo), the school where I hoped to conduct my Fulbright research. My dad happily agreed and started trying to find sources at UP which which I could meet. By “chance,” he called the university on a day when nobody from the College of Communication was in the office. So, by “chance” he spoke to the Vice Chancellor of Student Affairs at University of the Philippines who just “happened” to be a broadcast journalism professor. By “chance,” the one day we could visit Manila was the day she got back in the office from vacation. Are you seeing a trend here? I’m beginning to think it’s not just chance.
As soon as I met Dr. Elizabeth Enriquez, the VC of Student Affairs at UP-Diliman, I knew without a doubt that this “chance” wasn’t just “chance” anymore. Dr. Enriquez had been a Fulbright Scholar to the United States and specialized in the history of broadcasting. She had just authored a book about the history of early broadcasting in the Philippines and told me that she was hoping to do research on media in the later Philippines history within the next few years. What a coincidence that was just what I was hoping to study! After discussing possible project proposals with her and getting a letter of affiliation from UP, I felt more confident than ever that God truly had laid out each of my steps. I had finally truly “caught the vision” of applying for the Fulbright.
I spent summer 2009 doing the International Radio-Television Society Fellowship in NYC and interning at FOX Business Network (see photo: doing a cut-in at Fox News Channel). This absolutely was the opportunity of a lifetime and gave me the chance to network with “who’s who” of the media industry. Several of the media executives that I met over the summer gave me very helpful tips about how to become an international correspondent – but one piece of advice stuck with me more than anything else: you have to establish an international niche first. That was when it all clicked. If I got the Fulbright Grant to the Philippines, I could establish an international niche there and use it as a launching pad for my career as an international journalist. It was perfect.
I spent the rest of the summer – and the first half of the fall – writing and revising my application. I threw away countless project proposals and personal statements because I felt they just weren’t “good enough.” Dr. Pitcock worked tirelessly with me to hone every word, and my professors were very supportive in their letters of recommendation and application suggestions. Finally, at 5 p.m. on October 19th – the day the application was due – I made my last minute changes, squeezed my eyes shut, said a quick prayer, and pressed the submit button. Then I tried to forget about it.
I actually did a pretty good job forgetting about the Fulbright. With 10 classes and more than 20 extracurricular activities to keep me busy, it wasn’t hard. So, you can imagine my surprise when I got an email in late January notifying me that I had been selected as a finalist for the Fulbright Grant to the Philippines. I screamed and jumped around my apartment in complete disbelief. The next few months were a roller coaster of ups and downs, trying to figure out what I would do with myself after graduation – but, as you learned from my first post – God was faithful and blessed me with receiving the grant.
So that’s how I got where I am now. It’s 10:48 p.m. on Friday, June 18th and I leave tomorrow at 8:30 a.m. It’s ironic that the day I leave is EXACTLY two months to the day from when I found out that I received the grant and exactly eight months to the day from when I submitted my application. I’ll be in Manila for nine and a half months. The title of my project is “Filipino Broadcasters in EDSA 1: An Analysis of Media as a Conduit for Social Change.” Basically, I’ll be talking to political authorities, social activists, journalists, and citizens who were around during the Marcos Regime and participated in EDSA 1 (also known as the People’s Power Revolution). I hope to use this blog not only as a way to communicate with family and friends back home, but also as a way to disseminate my research and promote cultural exchange. I hope to write and/or put up short video blogs and pictures at least once a week. If you have any questions or comments about my research, feel free to contact me at christinadurano@gmail.com or leave a comment. God bless you all, and thank you to everyone who has helped me this far!
Click here to see my statement of grant purpose or here to see my personal statement.
I overpack. It’s no secret. When I was little, everyone knew me as “the bag lady.” Those of you who saw my 30-pound backpack at TCU can probably guess why. As one of my friends says, “You don’t need to pack anything for a trip. You just need Christina” (because I have everything). Sad, but true. As such, packing to live in another country for nine and a half months was quite a task for me. So, what did I pack? Not a lot (in my opinion).
Basically I have one suitcase full of clothes, another suitcase with random stuff (toiletries, tripod, hangers, pictures, alarm clock, etc.), and another suitcase with my printer. My aunt, who is very involved in the Filipino-American community in Las Vegas, also pre-sent a balikbayan box with linens and stuff for me. For carry-ons, I have a roll-on with my video camera and still camera with their accessories and a purse with LOTS of books and my computer/editing system (what can I say, I have to be ready if news breaks!). Basically, I chose everything I wanted to bring and took out one-third of it. Looking at my luggage for this trip, I wonder how I ever traveled around Europe for three months with a carry-on suitcase!
For most trips, packing is one of the biggest pre-departure tasks. For me, it took some time – but it definitely wasn’t the most important thing on my infamous “to-do list.” Not only did I have to get new vaccines for travel to Asia and a multiple-entry clearance visa like most visitors to the Philippines (see photos: visa and me at Philippines consulate in LA), I also had to receive medical clearance (with what seemed like 50-billion medical tests and x-rays); get academic clearance (proving I graduated); find housing in Manila; contact the university at which I’ll be researching; make a list of student organizations, humanitarian groups, and churches to look into; and do a lot of other important things. The Philippine-American Educational Foundation (PAEF), the body that administers the Fulbright in the Philippines, was kind enough to book my airline ticket, hotel, and other logistics.
With just 13 hours until take off, I can feel my anticipation rising. I must admit I am nervous – but I am excited too. God has done so much to make this dream a reality (as you’ll see in my next post), and I know that he will finish the good work he started in me.
Just two months ago, I wore a necklace every day with those very words inscribed on it (see photo). Since the beginning of the spring semester, I had been asked the dreaded question “What are you doing after graduation” nearly every day – and it was getting annoying. I felt like people “expected” me to have a job before I graduated. I knew God would make His will clear to me, but with less than a month until graduation and a job market that didn’t look promising, I was scared. So I decided it would be best to just not have people ask me the question. My roommate made me the aformentioned necklace on on Thursday, April 15, 2010. I wore it for four days.
The next Sunday, my younger sister Amberle and I went out to dinner and I told her a secret. “I think I’m going to die before graduation,” I told her. “Really – I have no clue what I’m doing after May 8 and I can’t imagine life after it.” Obviously Amberle dismissed the thought as outrageous and told me that she knew God had great things for me that he just hadn’t revealed yet. Little did I know that the next 24 hours would change my life and this mindset.
I woke up early on Monday, April 19 and was studying in my room when I got an email from the TCU Post Office, notifying me of a package from the Institute of International Education (the organization that administers the Fulbright Grant). My heart was pounding as I “speed-walked” to the post office. As the postal worker placed the thin white manila envelope from IIE in my outstretched hand, I felt like time froze. This package – just a few ounces in weight – contained information that could determine my future. I tried to compose myself as I took the envelope. “Surely they send rejection letters in manila envelopes, too” I kept telling myself, trying to save myself from disappointment. Slowly I ripped top of the envelope and pulled out a starched white letter (see photo) with the Fulbright emblem. “Dear Ms. Durano, On behalf of the J. William Fulbright Foreign Scholarship Board (FSB), I am pleased to congratulate you on your selection for a Fulbright award to the Philippines.” I think my heart stopped right there. I read it again…and again…and again. A tidal wave of relief swept over me as I realized I could take off my necklace. After a minute or two, I stuffed the letter back in the envelope and sprinted to find Dr. Pitcock (see photo), the Fulbright Program adviser for TCU and one of my most valuable mentors. When I saw that he wasn’t in his office, I started sprinting to my apartment to call my parents. Who did I see on the way to my apartment but Dr. Pitcock himself. I, already hyperventilating, screamed his name and panted that I had something important to tell him. Since I was out of breath though, I could hardly say the words “I got the Fulbright” before simply handing him the letter to read for himself.
We went back to the Honors College office for a bit to read the full letter (which I still hadn’t done) and I called my parents and sister. Both my parents were in disbelief – and both of them screamed at the news. My sister’s reaction was a bit different. Within 45 seconds, she went from elated (for the blessing) to angry (at me for stressing so much) to depressed (that I was leaving the country) back to happy. That’s Amberle for you though. I couldn’t be productive for the rest of the day and spent it dancing around campus, telling my professors, and just staring at the letter as if it would disappear or if I really read it carefully, I’d see that it was fake. It wasn’t.
Now, nearly two months later, I still am in awe that God has blessed me with the opportunity to travel to the Philippines for nine months and research a topic about which I am passionate. I worked on my application between May and October 2009, throwing away countless grant proposals and personal statements, because I just didn’t feel they were “good enough.” With an untold number of hours of help of Dr. Pitcock and the Honors College, recommendations from Schieffer School of Journalism and TCU, and the support and encouragement of my phenomenal friends and family (see photo) though – I did it. Well, I didn’t do it. God did it.
I finished up my senior year with MUCH less stress than originally anticipated. As I walked across the stage on graduation day, my mind flashed back to the many amazing memories I had at TCU. Scattered throughout those good times though, were thoughts of the worry and fear I experienced. How unnecessary it was. I knew God had ordained each of my steps since the beginning of time; I just didn’t trust Him enough to not worry. He knew His plan for me, but I didn’t. As a reminder, I decorated my graduation cap (see photo) to read “Ang Diyos lamang ang nakakaalam” (translated “Only God knows” in Tagalog). Though I was sad to leave TCU, I can say without a doubt that I am excited about my future. I didn’t just “not die.” I am living my dream.
Christina Durano is an award-winning television reporter from Albuquerque, NM. She is spending the 2010-2011 school year researching media as a conduit for social change as a Fulbright Scholar to the Philippines. Afterward, she hopes to pursue a career in international or political reporting.
Anyway, back to our first introduction. Her first reaction was actually rather hilarious. She was in the process of talking to her computer when our eyes first met. She made no sound, but her eyes followed me warily. I thought it was love at first sight since she didn’t immediately start screaming and trying to kill me. After she ended the conversation with the computer, I tentatively crawled down to her level and started making my way toward her. That was when the scream happened. It was a short, high-pitched screech that was suddenly stifled, as if she were choking. She jumped on a chair and started hyperventilating. Fearing the worst, I rushed under her bed for cover. A few minutes later, she started breathing normally and murmuring something to herself. I peeked out again, but then she chased me with a chair and started dancing around, as if the floor were burning coals. Again, I ducked for cover and stayed hidden for the night. (See photos: Christina with a fake cockroach that her friends scared her with. Note that outfit is from the Victorian era because she was at a tea party.)
Christina and I have actually become quite close over the past two weeks. Sometimes she still freaks out and I see a raging glare on her face as sheeyes a big box to crush me, but I know our friendship is strong enough that she won’t actually do it. You know, that’s what all friendships are built on: trust. Sometimes you want to kill each other, but deep down you know you never will.
It’s amazing how three weeks can change your perspective on a city. When I first arrived in Manila, I found it incredibly intimidating – even more so than New York City. The metro Manila area is comprised of 16 cities, spans nearly 250 square miles, and has a population of nearly 11.5 million people. It is also incredibly diverse – you can find nearly anything in the city, and I learn new things about it each day. I have learned to love living here, but once in a while, a break from the city is a good. So, that’s what I did this weekend.
Los Banos is located on the northern slopes of dormant volcano Mount Makiling and is famous for the hot springs that dot the area. Once we arrived, Naomi, another Fulbrighter based there, met us at the 88 Resort (see photo on right). The resort had several springs labeled warm (36C), hot (40C), hotter (43C), hottest (46C – that’s about 114 
I’m perpetually amazed by the incredible diversity of this country. Comparing the bustling streets of Makati,the business district of metro-Manila, to the majestic tropical forestry-clad Mount Makiling (see photo: Jessica and me in front of Mount Makiling) and relaxing hot springs in Laguna – it’s hard to believe they’re less than 100 miles apart. Even within a city like Manila, the incredible infrastructure and squatter villages can be found less than a mile from each other.
fields and creating a surrealistic haze around Mount Makiling. We drove briefly through University of the Philippines – Los Banos and the International Rice Research Institute back to the apartment, but since it was already light outside, we decided to take the bus back to Manila immediately rather than sleeping for a few hours first. Bad choice. The bus was jam packed – we were crushed standing in the middle of the aisle– and we hadn’t slept at all. That combined with three hours of terrible traffic and bumpy roads didn’t exactly make it the most pleasant trip ever. Nevertheless, I enjoyed our relaxing weekend getaway in Los Banos. Now, back to city life.
During my past few weeks in the Philippines, I have gotten to know several Fulbright Scholars here (see photo: generations of Fulbrighters and friends that link them all). Although I am the first from my “batch,” several Fulbrighters from last year are still in the Philippines, and they have introduced me to Fulbrighters from previous years. Each and every one of them has certainly blown my mind as far as intellectual capability – but all of them are incredibly kind, helpful, and over all personable individuals, too. I haven’t met a single “nerd.” So much for my stereotype.
“Today our dreams start to become a reality,” Aquino said in his inaugural address. “It’s the end of a leadership that has long been insensitive to the suffering of the people.”
Afterward, I started unpacking, exploring the house, and reading the rules. I think this is where the culture shock really hit. The house is ina gated subdivision called PhilamHomes and is very conveniently located by two malls and a public transportation terminal. Right now, about 28 young Filipina women live in this house. One reason I chose to live here rather than an upscale apartment was to immerse myself in the 
culture – and this is definitely immersing me in the culture already. Everyone is incredibly nice (much nicer than the average stranger in America), but since their primary language is Tagalog, I definitely have a language barrier. The home is simple, but sufficient. We have a kitchen with a stove, microwave, and refrigerator (but no oven), a very nice living and dining area (see photo) with cable television (woot!), a few bathrooms, a great veranda (seephoto), an outdoor laundry area – for hand laundry, and several bedrooms. Each of the bedrooms is equipped with four to probably 12 wooden bunk beds (thankfully I’m staying in a
