Dadaps: The Musical, and Luzon Exploring with Jenny

Part I: Even More Dadaps!

After much anticipation, Nathan's family came to visit the Philippines during August. It was his sister, Sofie's, first time, and his dad's first trip back since he left nearly 30 years ago. You can read more about their visit in Nathan's blog! 

Nathan holds the music for Uncle Jemay (professional
 violinist),with piano accompaniment by cousin Jascha!
Photo by Jenny Qi

As always, it was great to spend time with Nathan's family. Since we came to Manila 8ish months ago, I've been able to get to know many of his relatives that live in the area. I've said it before and I'll say it again- I can't imagine how difficult the transition to living here would have been without the Dadap network! And quite a network it is- Nathan's grandfather is one of fourteen siblings, so there is a seemingly endless list of aunts, uncles and cousins (plus all of the great-, half-, second-, once-removed- level relatives!). When Nathan's immediate family visited, even more relatives came out of the woodwork. Over the course of a handful of family reunions and smaller gatherings, one thing really stands out about this family: Music. Whenever the threshold level of Dadaps is reached, music starts playing- singing, piano, violin, guitar, and contagious laughter. It's truly incredible how pervasive musical talent is throughout their family. Famous musicians from the Dadap clan reside in Manila, Los Angeles, New York and throughout the Philippines. As someone with no musical abilities to speak of, I can now happily attribute this to a lack of genetic predisposition! Though I'm hoping that all of this singing and performing will eventually rub off on me and I'll be able to join in.

Fishermen returning at sunrise on the shores of Hinunangan

The coconut forest of Hinunangan at sunrise

Dadaps: The Musical started out with performances  in and around Manila, mostly at family gatherings over food, and then began a national tour with a trip to Hinunangan, Southern Leyte. This is the place where the family of 14 siblings arose, and there are still many relatives living in the small, beachfront town.  The closeness of the small community was evidenced by Nathan's dad being able to approach strangers and ask "Do you know where I can find my cousin Long-Long?", and get directions to his relative's house (along with a suggestion that he might be at the bar)!

This was my second trip to Hinunangan, the first having been in June after a work trip to Tacloban. Since the last visit was only  2 days long and mostly spent recovering from an exhausting project, it was great to be able to relax and take in the beauty of the area over a few days. The highlight was a short boat trip to the San Pablo & San Pedro islands, located just off the coast. We spent a beautiful day on a white-coral beach, snacking and snorkeling until it was time to go home. A small resort type area had been established, but it was by no means a popular tourist destination, and I suspect it is largely undiscovered by anyone outside of Hinunangan. All the better, and I hope it stays as pristine and untouched for years to come! The tropical fish were incredibly beautiful, and I vow not to return to the Philippines without an underwater camera. Being the wimp that I am, I am usually pretty skittish about ocean swimming due to a mostly-irrational fear of sea snakes and sharks. Snorkeling has proven to be the perfect solution, and allowed me to spend hours at a time in the salty Pacific without the eerie feeling that something is lurking beneath my feet. Except when there was something lurking beneath my feet! On the sea floor, but not more than 20 feet away, I saw a 3-5 foot long, limbless, striped creature. 

This is how I remember the sea creature I saw

I immediately darted to the shore, and only returned to the water when Nathan's 16 year old sister went in, since clearly she would be the perfect person to protect me from sea snakes. Together we returned to the spot where I'd seen the animal and took a closer look, only to discover that instead of a serpentine face it had a mass of short, waving tentacles. I still don't know what exactly it was, and I can't find anything that looks quite like it on Google, so I'm going to have to assume we discovered a new species of hybrid anemone/sea snake. Luckily it took on the docile nature of it's anemone ancestors, and we escaped unscathed :)

The epic spread at the Dadap despidida
(complete with 3 vegan options- score!)
Photo by Jenny Qi

The 3-week-long visit culminated with a great family gathering at Nathan's uncle's house in Manila, with an incredible assortment of food, world-class musical performances, and lots of joyful family time. This was also the same day that my friend Jenny from California came, and one awesome Philippine experience blended seamlessly into the next!

Part II: Me, Jenny and Luzon- a whirlwind tour!

As it turns out, I'm wildly popular, so much so that in August I had a second visitor from across the world! Jenny, a friend from UCSF, wisely decided to take advantage of having a friend in the Philippines when planning her summer vacation, and we had an awesome time exploring the island of Luzon for the 8 days she was here. Travelling during rainy season has it's plusses and minuses, and the journey started out with a rude awakening to the realities of mother nature in Manila: urban flooding!

Sink or Swim (or Pedicab)

An empty jeepney trying to escape the rising flood

After a tiring but gorgeous day of exploring the historic walled city in Manila proper, light rain began to fall and we took refuge inside a nearby mall to pass the time until our night bus left for the north. Little did we know while we shopped for comfortable travel pants and cheap sunglasses that the light rain had turned into a full-fledged downpour outside. Stepping out of the mall into the throngs of wet Manileños was shocking. A horse drawn carriage rumbled past with water reaching the carriage floor. Four girls linked arms and braved the newly-formed river toward the main street. Tricycles sputtered water and stalled out.  Our 10 minute journey to the bus station suddenly seemed incredibly difficult, and my now-totally-irrational fear of water snakes (there it is again!), combined with the surety that the water contained rodents and human waste, was not making it any easier to step out into the knee-high flood waters.  After acknowledging that the luxury of time was not on our side, and that the many holes in the streets and sidewalks of Manila make it too unsafe to walk through the dark and muddy waters, we bartered with a pedicab driver to take us to the  main street where we could find a jeep.  This short journey involved the pedicab driver mostly pushing his vehicle through the street while we stood crouched on the seats, per his instruction. Eventually we reached a sidewalk with a high enough elevation and hopped out near the main road. Despite the fact that jeeps seem perfectly designed for this sort of situation, they were all passing by without picking up passengers, driving quickly toward higher ground. A tricycle (motorcycle with a sidecar) seemed like the only mode of transportation available- taxis had also fled the area. The water on the main street was too high, so we began a tour of a not-so-nice neighborhood, winding through the back roads in search of the most elevated path. The fact that Jenny and I were surrounded by unfamiliar road signs with two strangers who could easily have taken us somewhere other than the bus station set of all of my female-travel-danger alarms, and the stress and fear caused by the flood were magnified. An hour into what would otherwise have been a 10 minute journey, the bus station finally came into view. I was filled with relief as we climbed aboard, soaking wet, just minutes before it left the terminal. And so began our journey to Banaue, Jenny having been officially inducted into Filipino culture!

Rice, Glorious Rice!

The view from our Batad guesthouse

The next morning, we arrived in Banaue, home of the famous rice terraces. We quickly ate and tracked down a jeepney bound for Batad, where we planned to hike and spend the night. Following the example set by fellow travellers up north, I asked if it would be ok for us to ride on top of the Jeep for the 45 minute journey, and I'm so glad that I did! The view was incredible as we wound through the mountains and terraces. The morning fog kept the air cool, the UV rays at bay and coated the lush surroundings in a mystical haze. Though it may seem like it would be scary to ride on top of the jeep, the slow speed and handlebars allieviate any potential danger. If anything, the people on top of the jeep have a better chance of surviving if the jeep tumbles off the cliff, as I've heard they sometimes do. These paved, well-travelled roads didn't seem to threaten that very often. We did, however, have to hop down and quickly walk on a part of the road where a landslide had just occurred, while our guide gazed fearfully at the newly formed cracks on the rockface beside us. Thankfully the driver and road construction workers were there to recognize the potential danger and guide us through safely.

Harvest time in Batad

In Batad, the "Ampitheatre Rice Terraces" are breathtaking, and after quickly dropping our bags in a guesthouse ($4/night!) we began hiking. Eschewing some advice to hire a local guide in favor of the ask-everyone-we-pass-for-directions strategy, we made our way through the 2,000 year old terraces to a beautiful, misty waterfall. Another American tourist had joined us for the trek, but our hiking styles were not well-matched (careful and leisurely versus surefooted and speedy!), and we quickly gave up on trying to match his pace. We all reunited at the waterfall, passing our jeep mates and their hired guide who were on their return trip. After taking in the beauty of the falls, getting our feet wet and taking many pictures, we began the very slow ascent back up the terraces to our guesthouse. Rain was fallling and we were still weary from the long journey, so we took advantage of every stopover or photo-op to take breaks. Arriving at our guesthouse with most of the day still ahead of us, we settled in on the deck for a calm evening of gazing out at the terraces and getting to know the family that ran the guesthouse. 

The owner of our Batad guesthouse with her niece
Photo by Jenny Qi

I especially enjoyed talking with the father of the owner and hearing his thoughts on life in Batad. He had a strong appreciation for the way of life there, calling it "simple but beautiful", and noting that  “Barack Obama, he has so much power, but he has no time! He can’t come to Batad. He's probably stuck in an office, drinking coffee! Hah!” He made similar observations about the American ambassador in the Philippines and other world leaders, and clearly considered himself to be lucky in comparison, sitting on the porch of his modest family-owned business, overlooking one of the most beautiful views in the world. Hours later he appeared from the road carrying a large spear, and told me that it was for hunting wild boar in the forest, which he would kill and then haul back on his shoulder. An impressive feat for a man who appeared to be at least 70. His wife was a small woman of a similar age who, when standing, was around 2.5 feet tall. Short to begin with, she was completely bent over at an angle that looked to sometimes be less than 90 degrees. Still, she was incredibly industrious, removing mung beans from their pods and helping her daughter maintain the guesthouse. Rita, the daughter of this pair and owner of the guesthouse, was an unmarried, friendly but tough-looking woman who chewed betel nut all day (like the local version of chewing tobacco, it causes mild euphoria and warms the body). Her nieces and nephews lived next door and were also present. It was adorable to watch the 2 year old boy giddy with excitement when he saw his 6 month old sister smiling. To round out the family portrait, there were about 8 puppies scattered across the porch, occasionally latching onto their sickly flea-ridden mother but usually curled up into little sleeping fur piles.

Sagada, Mountain Province

Hanging coffins in Sagada

The next morning, we climbed back on top of a jeep and were on our way to Sagada- a city tucked away in Mountain Province, famous for its pine tree forests and laid back atmosphere.  We began another day of hiking, heading first to the famous Hanging Coffins. According to Ifugao tribal tradition, suspending the coffins serves the dual purpose of bringing the spirits closer to heaven and protecting them from wildlife. Some of the coffins were only around 3 feet long, and I learned that the dead were traditionally placed in the fetal position and wrapped in twine before being placed in the coffins. Immediately after death, the dead would be positioned upright in a wooden chair near the entryway to their homes so that neighbors and relatives could come pay their respects. Since these chairs couldn't be used after the ritual, they sometimes ended up hanging on the cliffs alongside the coffins.

Hiking in rainy season, without a guide, is not the most advisable course, and we quickly learned the error of our ways when we lost track of our trail after crossing a river. Panicking and facing a steep hill with houses above in the distance, we made the decision to just hike as directly upward as we could, trail be damned. Unfortunately, this was a particularly thorn-ridden patch of land and a week later my legs still show evidence of this poor decision making! Luckily, before any tears over our ensuing death were shed, we found the trail and realized we were actually quite close to the main road! Still, lesson learned: hire a guide. All the fear was quickly erased when we emerged onto the main road in front of a store with a sign reading "Hedgehogs for sale". Still filled with adrenaline our harrowing experience, I asked the storeowner if he would mind showing us a hedgehog even if we weren't ever going to buy one. He obliged, and ten minutes of cute-animal-therapy set the tone for a relaxing evening in Sagada.  We ate a delicious dinner in a Bob Marley themed restaurant, drank berry wine with some fellow visitors, and rose the next morning ready for a long day of bus rides back to Manila. 

Baby cow taking a nap in Sagada

Travel can be draining, but nothing revitalizes a bus-weary vegan like spending a stopover in Baguio with not one but TWO vegetarian restaurants. Thankfully Jenny is a fellow lover of vegetarian food, so I don't think she suffered too greatly.  High on veggie-power we began the next long bus journey, and safely arrived in Manila after around 14 hours of travel.

Back to Manila

Having completed the rugged, outdoorsy portion of our itinerary, we proceeeded to embrace the softer side of the Philippines. Starting with a foot massage for me, mani-pedi for Jenny, and a whole lot of food at a going away party for two of my office mates.  We traded in hiking boots and bug spray for dresses and sandals and spent a day browsing thrift stores, intermittently snacking and walking through the well-manicured gardens of Tagaytay. For Jenny's last day, we took on the necessary task of souvenir shopping at Greenhills shopping center, haggling-capital of Manila.  I've made it this far without succumbing to the temptations of cheap shopping, but the air of deal-making was too strong to resist and I ended up with a pretty cute cell phone case and some vegan lipstick. Jenny's bargaining skills were quite impressive, and featured lying about prices offered by other sellers and cooly walking away from goods only to be quickly offered a lower price. We made it home just in time to escape a monstrous rain storm, and cheers-ed to a great week with glasses of freshly squeezed coconut milk. 

6 month old hegdegog in Sagada
Photo by Jenny Qi

All in all, August was an incredible month full of family, friends and new experiences. Still, I'm happy to be back to work at SIBAT, and greatly appreciate having a job that I don't dread returning to after a vacation! 

Rainy July

SIBAT

Travel is tricky during the rainy season (June-September), and for the past few weeks the rest of SIBAT was working on the Mid-Year Assessment. For me, that's meant a lot more office time!
I understand the necessity of writing reports on site visits, submitting grants, evaluating employees and making long-term plans, but lately I'm wanting to spend as little time in Manila as possible. I think about the lush mountains and winding roads in the mountains to the north, and begin to loathe the crowded, smog-filled, traffic-jammed streets of the city. Hopefully I'll be travelling again come August!

SIBAT celebrating a triple-birthday at the new restaurant

Of course, Manila isn't all bad, and in some ways it's getting better- SIBAT opened a restaurant! How this came about is a total mystery to me. There had already been a very small store with not much foot traffic inside the same building as our office. Then suddenly, they've opened Sibol People's Eco Store and Cafe down the street! If I had stumbled upon this place- a store with organic rice of all colors, bountiful produce, Kalinga coffee and a whole variety of goods for sale from local organic sellers- I would have been giddy with excitement. Not to mention that the proceeds are funding the projects of this awesome NGO.

It's run entirely by people who worked either in the office or on the organic farm. At first my mind was boggled by the idea that no formal licensing or approval was necessary- just rent the space, start cooking, and open the doors. The only official who visited before we were allowed to open was a priest who conducted a short ceremony that involved everyone lighting candles, saying some prayers in unison, and the priest splashing holy water from a tiny plastic Virgin Mary shaped bottle.

Ate Del, the head chef, and Rox, SIBAT employee
turned restaurant manager!

My favorite part about visiting SIBAT's farm in the province of Tarlac was the awesome meals. Freshly picked veggies and fruits prepared perfectly by Del, a SIBAT farm employee of 20 years. Now, Ate Del is the head chef at Sibol People's Cafe, and the farm suddenly seems like a much less desirable place to visit! I don't know how much say Del had in her new job assignment, in a city where she doesn't have a home or family. Originally her placement was to be temporary while she passed her cooking expertise to someone local, but finding someone with her level of skill and work ethic has been proving difficult. Though I really do enjoy her being here & I will miss her cooking, I hope they find the right person soon.

A poster I made for Sibol People's Place

Aside from stopping by the restaurant and helping out here and there, I've also been focusing on SIBAT's No to GMO advocacy campaign. I'm learning a lot about the science and politics of biotech and agriculture, and simultaneously about the difficulty of organizing passionate, busy activists. Since February I've been serving as secretariat for the NO2GMO coalition- a loose group of 20 or so organizations committed to preventing the rise of GMOs in the Philippines. Since the coalition started almost 10+ ago, it's been an uphill battle trying to plan events, schedule meetings and organize mobilizations, since all the members have full time jobs with their own NGOs. In the past few months, two events have progressed into the design-invitations-and-confirm-venue phase only to be cancelled. Luckily, at our last meeting the coalition settled on a less ambitious idea than those we'd previously discussed. Starting in August we'll be offering a kind of service- if a group of people are interested in finding out more about GMOs, they can bring us in to give a short seminar series. So far it's looking good, with potential "clients" being another NGO in the area and a fancy organic weekend market downtown. I'm excited to see where this coalition is heading, and glad to be playing a role in its growth.

Kota Kinabalu

KK Harbor Walk

An exciting First happened in the month of July, when I packed my backpack and took a flight to Kota Kinabalu, Malaysia. I was travelling by myself to a place where I didn't know anyone. Though it was only a 3-day trip and I've traveled quite a lot in the past, I had been hesitant about the idea of going solo. For one, safety- my flight arrived at 1 AM, and I was concerned about the prospect of making it safely to my hostel. Would the taxi drivers speak English? Would they drop me off in the right place? Would they rip me off? Not to mention all the much-worse things that women worry about when doing anything alone at night. Secondly- would I get bored? Surely there would be plenty to see in a new, foreign city, but without companions to share observations with it could get lonely.
Very happily , I can now report that it was a great experience and I am excited about the new doors that have been opened now that I have conquered my fear of tables for one!

Beach sunset

As anyone  who has experience with budget travel can confirm, it's actually quite easy to meet people in hostels and join in group activities. I wrote about this a little bit in my previous blog post about Bangkok/Siem Reap-- sometimes the strangers you meet can really be the best part of a trip. But on my first day, I declined an offer to join an island hopping tour in favor of spending a day with myself. I loved being able to wander through this small coastal city at my own pace, stopping to read whenever I found a nice seat with a view. There are some things that you just can't do when travelling with other people. For example, I really like to explore grocery stores in new places. I hardly ever buy anything, but I feel like you can tell a lot about a place by its grocery store selection. In Manila groceries there are often entire isles dedicated to corned beef, tuna, or condensed/evaporated milk. Contrastingly, there is almost always a section dedicated to herbal remedies and tinctures. The selection was much the same in KK, but I still ducked into a mall grocery store for almost an hour to escape the mid-day heat.

The Ramadan Bazaar near my hostel
(not my picture!)

I also managed to see a lot of beautiful sights, eat great food (I had printed my HappyCow.Com list of vegan restaurants and carried it around the whole trip), and get a sense of what the city was about. I was taken aback by how not crowded everything was. The wide, clean walkway along the harbor was a striking example of how nice cities can be when they as packed-to-the-teeth with humans as Manila is. I felt worlds safer and more relaxed in the downtown area, and enjoyed being able to explore without having to keep my fist clenched around my purse and my eyes scanning crowds for potential criminals.

It was Ramadan when I visited, so that could also have contributed to the decreased number of people out during the day. The state is about 65% Muslim. Because they are fasting between dawn and dusk, there were less diners in a lot of the restaurants, but when the sun began to set there were a bunch of Ramadan Bazaars that opened sold pre-made meals, exotic juices and cheap snacks. I tried a few of the brightly colored, coconut-coated glutinous-rice desserts - I will definitely miss all the sweet rice creations of Southeast Asia when this year is over.

Making Friends

The next day, I was ready for some company. Since I had the same morning plans as some of my hostel mates I decided to join forces.  We had a nice morning exploring the famous Gaya Sunday Market and beyond, but come lunch time I was set on checking off another place from my Happy Cow list, so I decided to go my own way. I'm so glad that I did, because otherwise I wouldn't have met Chloe, my KK Guardian Angel. After placing my order at a small, Sunday-only, vegetarian food stand, I was immediately joined at my table by another solo-diner. She had heard me double checking the veganness of my order, and was eager to meet another vegan. Within a few minutes we had plans to go to the beach that evening to watch the famous Borneo sunset, and to travel to a nearby waterfall the next morning! Chloe is Malaysian and has been living in KK for a while, plus she's a vegetarian with a car, so I really couldn't have dreamed up a better travel companion. Along with one of my new found hostel friends, we all walked the beach until sunset, ate at an incredible veggie Shabu-Shabu restaurant for dinner, and spent the next day relaxing by a beautiful waterfall.

Natural Beauty

As soon as I got to the beach, I noticed beautiful, intricate patterns all over the packed sand. Crabs scurrying in and out of their tiny holes was something I’d seen before, but these crabs were different. They were artists. As they dug for food in the topmost layer of sand, they rolled up the sand they’d already inspected and left it in perfectly round balls along their path. Their paths were strikingly beautiful. They formed flowers, concentric circles, endless spirals.  The tinier the crab, the smaller the medium with which they created their installations- the smallest bubbles were the size of cous-cous. The larger crabs, still less than an inch across, were creating balls the size of a pencil eraser. The whole beach was transformed into a museum. A hybrid natural history and modern art museum. Every step footprint created a new blank canvas, and the encroaching tide would soon clear the whole slate.

The trip was a great mix of getting to know a new city, new friends, and myself.  I'm sure it won't be my last solo vacation.

Budget

Also-- not to rub it in-- but the cost was pretty unbelievable:
Flights: $71 Round Trip
Hostel: $7.25/night - $21.75 total
To and From Airport transportation: $20 total
Food: $10.50 total
Other (entry fee,buses,souvenirs): $6.50

Total for 3 day trip: $129.75
Total to extend my visa if I had stayed in Manila: $150
Escaping Manila for 3 days, while saving myself from a trip to the immigration office: Priceless

Nathan's adorable 4-year-old cousin, Julia

Also...

• There was a typhoon! Lots of wind, fallen trees, and 3 days of intermittent electricity. Otherwise, it wasn't very damaging in the area I live in. The storm woke me up around 5am, and I came downstairs to curl up in a blanket and watch the action of trees trashing around outside the window. Having seen some of the water-front makeshift homes that some people in Manila are living in, I couldn't stop thinking that for some people this must have been a terrifying morning. Luckily, Manila spared from the brunt of the storm and overall the damage was minimal.
• The more time I spend with Nathan's relatives here, the more grateful I feel that we ended up spending this year in a place with family.  I can't imagine how much more difficult this year would be without their advice & friendship.

Travel to Leyte

I found out I would be spending this year in the Philippines in October of last year, about a month before it hit front page news that the worst typhoon in history had pummeled parts of the country.  While it was horrifying to read about the damage that was caused by Typhoon Yolanda, it gave me confirmation that I was going to the right place and would be put to good use.

SIBAT in Tolosa, Leyte

Nathan's on the back of the motorcycle taking the picture,
so that's 4 grownups on one motorcycle

After 3 months of work in Manila and northern Luzon, I was able to join a team of engineers and agriculturists traveling to Tolosa, Leyte, one of the municipalities hit hardest by Yolanda. It is located just south of Tacloban, the city of 200,000 that was obliterated and shown on news channels around the world for the last months of 2013.

SIBAT had sent a team there in December to help address immediate agricultural needs, as most of the crops had been washed out in the floods. While there they identified 12 barangays (villages) that would be targets for small water distribution projects. With only 8 full days in the area, our team was constantly on the go, sometimes visiting 3-4 sites per day. While the team of engineers & technicians (including Nathan) went to the potential water sources and did measurements, I sat with groups of community members and held focus groups with the SIBAT agriculturist.

While the rest of the team trekked through the villages to find a deep enough well, I had the opportunity to engage with the community members and talk about their water-related needs. I learned a lot about how to ask questions--

Before:

Me: How many wells here have clean, drinkable water?
People: None.
Me: How many people buy mineral water?
People: Just a few
Me: Where do people get potable water?
People:.....They just buy mineral water
Me: Do you have water purification tablets from the municipal government?
People: Yes, we all have them.

After:

Me: How many wells are there?
People: 15
Me: How many wells are people drinking from?
People: All of them
Me: How many wells have clean water for drinking?
People: None of them!
Me: But they are drinking from them anyway?
People: Of course!
Me: Do people regularly use any kind of filter or purification tablet:
People: We have them but we don't use them 

We would talk though each zone in each barangay, figuring out what the current situation was with drinking water. One of my favorite comments--

Me: How many people in zone 4 are purchasing mineral water?
Woman: All of them! That's the millionaires zone!

Focus group

Our group + one of the communities we visited

After we finished with the focus group and the engineering team came back from the field, I would find out which source they thought had the most potential for a water delivery project. Then I got to put my biology skills to use (kind of) by heading out to the source and testing the water for the presence of fecal bacteria. SIBAT has never done on-site water testing before, but after reaching out to another Manila-based NGO I found out about a simple test that we could bring with us to remote areas. 

Initially when I found out the test we were using required a 98 degree (F) incubator I was concerned, knowing that we weren't going to be hauling around an incubator in an area that still lacks refrigeration. I asked the other NGO how they overcame this obstacle and they pointed out the now obvious fact that we are surrounded by 98 degree incubators. Humans! Solution to field incubation: place the test between some cardboard, wrap it in a scarf, and tie it around your tummy! So for the entire trip I was strapped up with incubating water samples, adding new tests as soon as the last one had come off. When it's close to 100 degrees outside all day, having a scarf tied around one's abdomen can be pretty uncomfortable, and it wasn't the best sleep companion either. Nevertheless, I was glad to be able to make a physical contribution to the project, and I liked the added benefit of being introduced as the team's microbiologist to each community. It does have a nice ring to it.

That's a lot of bacterial colonies for 1 mL
of mountain fresh water!

After one particularly nasty test result, showing high levels of E. coli and other fecally-derived bacteria in one of the water samples, I learned another lesson about field work. While the community agreed that this source was the best, cleanest drinking water, they weren't surprised to learn that my sample was highly contaminated (picture to the left). Turns out I had sampled just downstream of where children are known for playing, which I now know goes hand in hand with open defecation. So I can add "do children poop in this water?" to my list of good questions to ask when surveying for water systems.

Hopefully the information we gathered can be put to use in the designing of future projects. This week SIBAT is being trained on the construction of biosand water filters, and my hope is to return to Tolosa and conduct some filter building workshops in the next few months.

Day to Day in Tolosa
On a plot of land, newly freed up after the typhoon removed the house that sat on it, SIBAT built a plywood house for staff staying in the area. We stayed here for the whole time we were working in the area- me with 5 men sharing a bare one-room house, with a tiny bathroom stall (but no door). Given the living situation of many in the area, even before Yolanda but especially after, I know that we were lucky to have a roof over our heads and a place to call our own. Nevertheless, here's a very brief list-style rant!

• Shower: Outside, with a hand pump and a small bucket, mostly clothed, in front of whoever happened to be eating breakfast or doing laundry at that time
• Meals: Cut some vegetables with my swiss army knife and cook in a pan over an open fire
• Beds: Thin bamboo mat on the wooden floor. Ants, mosquitos, oppressive heat.



I found my new favorite mode of transportation

• Laundry:  Handwashing by the hand pump in a small bucket + clothesline. 

Cooking for myself with such limited tools went surprisingly well. With one of the guys cooking meat for the rest of the group every night, I had a lot of freedom with my meals. I loved picking out produce from the palenkes (outdoor meat/veg/fruit markets), chatting and haggling with the vendors and cooking whatever vegetables looked freshest that day. Especially when two days in a row that meant guacamole for dinner.

One thing I noticed in and around Tolosa is that people are pretty used to seeing foreigners. This was most obvious from children who seemed to have had a lot of practice saying "Welcome, visitors!". There were banners and signs everywhere thanking the various NGOs that had come before us or were there at the same time. It feels great to be part of such an effort, and was uplifting to see how much support had been given in the area. There was evidence of lots of good being done- rebuilt barangay centers, fresh paint on elementary schools just in time for the new school year, and a bustling health clinic in the municipal hall with supplies from Doctors without Borders. Unfortunately, there was also evidence of not-so-good NGO work. One focus group discussion revealed that the barangay we were in didn't have access to safe drinking water, people were getting sick and most people couldn't afford to buy bottled water. Just as we were wrapping up, someone mentioned that Catholic Relief Services had given every household a water filter. Every household! Had a state-of-the-art carbon water filter! So what was the problem with getting drinking water then? It turns out that most people weren't using them at all- they were collecting dust in their boxes. When we pushed further to see why the project had failed, we heard that didn't know how the filters worked (and therefore didn't trust them) or they thought the filtering would take too long (it's actually very fast). Other people simply didn't know what to do with them.

Filters from CRS 

One of the things that I liked about SIBAT from the get-go was the idea of empowering communities to develop solutions to their problems. It's the difference between teaching people how to build a filter out of local materials, so they can build new ones and maintain them on their own, and dropping off a big box of expensive technology and rushing off to the next village. When the community isn't engaged in creating the solution, they won't be engaged in using it and they certainly won't know what to do when something goes wrong with it. This was an problem I had thought about a lot before coming here and was saddened to see exemplified first-hand.

Onward, to Hinunangan! 
After we arrived in Tacloban, Nathan and I found out that for around $20 we could move our flights back a couple days and have time to visit his relatives in southern Leyte. Having seen his photos from his trip there in 2008, it was an easy choice to make- never say no to palm-tree lined beaches with crystal blue water full of tropical fish. So after a long, hard 10 days in Tolosa, we made the 3 hour journey to Lola Lilia's house in Hinunangan, Southern Leyte.

Me and the stylish Lola Lilia

Stepping into her home after our journey felt like winning the lottery. A huge,  sun filled, open floor plan greeted us, and we were quickly led to comfortable napping quarters. I will never take mattresses for granted again; beds are so luxurious. Lola Lilia's bright, welcoming personality made me feel at home right away. Her constant "You're so beautiful", "Your skin is amazing", and "So-and-So, isn't Emily so beautiful?"s might have helped me warm up to her as well!

For the next 2 days, we were living the good life. A trip to a tropical fish sanctuary, sunrise on the beach, delicious food prepared by Lola's caretaker, a canoe ride at sunset and a whirlwind of Dadaps-in-Hinunangan history and introductions.

Beach sunrise in Hinunangan

In stark contrast to the typhoon-damaged homes, fallen trees and graffiti saying "Help Us" that defined Tolosa, this place just 3 hours away was seemingly untouched, the beaches still lined with towering coconut palms. I imagine that this must have been something like what Tolosa looked like around this time last year, before the rug was torn out from under it.

All in all, it was an incredible trip. I am proud to be a part of the work SIBAT is doing in Tolosa, grateful for being welcomed like family into the home of Lola Lilia, and excited to return to Leyte in the coming months.

Hinunangan

Coming soon: Palawan island getaway, starring Emily & Nathan.

Ala came to the Philippines!

Ala is incredible! She flew all the way here from Boston and let me drag her all around Manila and beyond for 8 action packed days. 

I'll fill in more details later, but for now here are some pictures from her visit!

At Rizal Park in Manila- that's the Rizal Monument in the background!

Buying a young coconut (buko) in Manila

Ala made some bovine friends in Zambales

Day trip to Talisayen Cove, Zambales

Blissful after lunch in Sonya's Garden, Tagaytay

That crater behind her is an active volcano, Taal!

The whirlwind week ended with an incredible dinner over Manila Bay

Abra Conference, May 4-10

A farmer and his goats, Bangued, Abra

After getting back from Cordillera Day and having a few days to rest and re-pack, SIBAT headed north into the mountains again for a conference in Abra. 

In the province of Abra, SIBAT currently has 13 microhydro energy stations. They range in age from 1-20 years old, and serve communities as small as 13 households and as large as 150 households. For the first time, SIBAT held a conference to bring together community leaders from each of these project sites to share knowledge and plan for the future. 

SIBAT, pre-conference preparations

My role at the conference was concentrated in the 3 days leading up to the arrival of the guests, helping with the handout materials and audiovisual presentations. Once the conference began, everyone was speaking Ilocano which meant that Nathan couldn't be my translator, so I wasn't too involved beyond clicking through the slide shows.  I was really glad to have had the opportunity to join the team that went up early and be able to contribute something tangible to the event. As far as I could tell, it was a success! Communities met amongst themselves to discuss problems they'd been facing, and met with SIBAT to plan future upgrades and trainings. The event was supposed to culminate with a field visit to one of the communities that serves as a model for how to properly manage and operate a microhydro system. Unfortunately a prominent member of their community passed away during the conference so our presence would have been inappropriate.

Late night work session in the hotel before the guests arrived

No Filipino meeting would be complete without a solidarity night- these usually involve singing, be it karaoke or cultural chanting, drinking, and dancing. Representatives from each community delivered a speech in a singsong throaty style of chanting, played drums and demonstrated native dances. Some SIBAT engineers are from this part of the Philippines and joined in. I got a chance to demonstrate my newfound mastery of the Eagle Dance after all of my practice at Cordillera day. I still have a ways to go on my courtship dancing though- it's a dance where a man chases a woman in a circle to the beat of gongs, and at the end he catches her and they shake hands. I got elected for this twice, and I don't think saying no was an option. Unfortunately I don't speak any Ilocano, so I'm just hoping that I'm not now married to a microhydro system operator in Abra. 

Cordillera Day

The Cordillera is a mountainous region north of Manila that is largely inhabited by many tribes of indigenous people. Like indigenous people all over the globe, the people of the Cordillera are constantly struggling to maintain their ancestral land, resources and culture against transnational corporations and even their own country's government. 

The view from my tent!

This year was the 30th annual Cordillera Day. Representatives from different tribes, advocacy groups and countries attended to participate in workshops and cultural presentations. It was held in Kalinga, one of the 7 provinces of the Cordillera.

I was able to participate in a workshop on agriculture, and I learned a lot about the negative impact of international trade agreements on local farmers. For example, corn subsidies in the US make it cheaper for Filipinos in Manila to buy US imported corn than the corn grown by farmer's in their country. Pretty crazy! We also talked about the influx of toxic chemical pesticides and fertilizers that are being pushed on small farmers by transnational corporations like Syngenta and Monsanto, and the devastating effect these have had on health, the environment and the economy. Talking about these issues in NGO conference rooms in Manila is one thing, but hearing the same concerns voiced directly from indigenous farmers is incredibly powerful. It was a great confirmation that the work SIBAT is doing related to sustainable agriculture is necessary and important.

The main event hall with multi-colored tarp roof
and bamboo benches

While the workshops were quite serious, Cordi day was also full of celebration of local culture. There was lots of dancing, some of which I attempted to take part in. Communities performed songs, plays and gave heartfelt speeches throughout the 3 day event.

We slept in tents in the most picturesque mountain-side conference location. In fact there were no permanent structures at the entire event- the main event space was a giant tent made of bamboo poles tied together with rope, covered with tarps. The bathrooms were also small bamboo structures with tarp walls and a hole in the ground. Sometimes there was running water but it was pretty unpredictable.

The one that got away

Cooking lunch for 1000

Each morning and at various times throughout the day everyone was jarred by the loud screaming of pigs being slaughtered for lunch and dinner. They probably killed 4 pigs every day to feed the hundreds of attendees, plus one water buffalo on the third day. The screaming of tortured pigs sounds a lot like children. I was really shaken by it, and even though it was a couple weeks ago I still keep hearing the screams. Creaky doors, whining dogs and crying babies have all caused me to look around in panic, thinking I was hearing another pig being killed. When you really look at pigs, they're so human like in their eyes. I was pretty elated when I found out that on the last day a pig was actually able to hide under a stage beside the kitchen, even though he'd been left with his legs bound to a bamboo pole.  Because it was dark when they went to kill him he could not be found. He probably didn't add too much time to his life, but to me it really demonstrates the fact that pigs are smart animals that have a will to live.

This stirs up a lot of internal debate for me because I can certainly acknowledge that not everyone is in a position to immediately stop killing animals for food. I know that in the Philippines, eating meat is a big part of celebrations and people's cultural identities. I'm not passing judgement on indigenous people for slaughtering pigs for this or other events. Still I feel that it is a practice that will one day be looked back on by humanity as barbaric and unnecessary in today's society.

Holy Week in the Philippines

Good Friday in Pampanga

In a country where 85% of the population is Catholic, Christian holidays are a big deal. At SIBAT, the office was closed Wednesday-Sunday for Holy Week. Unlike in the US, we didn't even call it something PC like "Spring Holiday"! I've been called out for my attempts at political correctness here, which I'm beginning to think is a purely American construct. But back to Holy Week!

Since we had Wednesday off, we accompanied Nathan's aunt and uncle to University of the Philippines Los Banos to pick up their son for his break. It's a couple hours south of Manila, and the campus was a lush green, tree-filled paradise. On the way back, the roadways were lined with hoards of people waiting to board buses to the provinces. We must have passed thousands of people waiting for buses! Over the next couple days, the effect was staggering- the city was a ghost town! Streets that notoriously have standstill traffic at all hours of the day were like open country roads. (A similar effect was seen during the Pacquiao fight the week before, because everyone was inside somewhere watching, but it was much shorter lived).

Maundy Thursday

I spent most of the day at church, participating in a Lenten reflection and then attending the evening Maundy Thursday service. I’ll admit that I didn’t warm up to my new church right away, but I’m really beginning to feel like part of the community there.

Good Friday in Pampanga

During a 2-hour break between a Lenten reflection and the evening service, I was idly snacking on a glutinous rice dessert in a room with the members of the women’s guild- most of whom are probably around 70. I was thinking it would be a long two hours with nobody to talk to. I ended up spending it learning a huge lesson about presumptuousness.  I had sat beside an old woman during the reflection, and all I really noted about her was that I hadn’t seen her before, she seemed a little disheveled, and most of her front teeth were missing.  Then she introduced herself – she had attended the church in the 60s but now only comes when she visits Manila from Mindinao, the southernmost part of the Philippines. Once we started talking and I realized how much we had in common, I almost cried (I high-fived her instead). My advocacy work at SIBAT has been focused on organic, sustainable agriculture, and she’s an agriculturist with an organic farm in Mindinao.  She brought up Golden Rice and said “Why would they add vitamin A to rice! People just need to eat vegetables!,” which is essentially the punchline of a flyer I made last week at work.  She told me about her organic farm and her younger days as an activist. She smirked while talking about how in college when they were lecturing about "biotechnology" (chemical pesticides, fertilizers and GMOs) she didn't even save her notes because she knew she didn't need it. I was giddy for having met her and for finding a friend and ally in the most unlikely place. I love the way church can bring people from totally different backgrounds together that way.

Good Friday
One tradition that takes place in a couple towns within the Philippines is the reenactment of the crucifixion on Good Friday. A few people volunteer to be nailed through their hands and feet to a cross in the sweltering heat, believing that it will earn them favor in the eyes of God (despite the denunciation of the practice by the Catholic church, and the total lack of biblical basis for this belief). One man has already been crucified 23 times, and plays the main role of Jesus in the passion play. It sounds pretty gruesome but also like something that I might never get another opportunity to see, so I decided to check it out.
Through the magic of Couchsurfing, I found a travel companion with a rental car (Nathan had a choir performance and couldn't come). Nathan's cousin Jascha also came along for the adventure.

Good Friday in Pampanga

We headed north for about an hour, and once we got off the highway we knew we were close when we saw self-flagellation along the sides of the streets. This is also thought of as a way to atone for one's sins during holy week. As we got closer to the town where the crucifixion was to be held the number of bloodied backs we passed grew rapidly. We found a place to park the now blood-spattered car and joined the crowd of onlookers. There were hundreds of people self-flagellating while they slowly walked through the town, many wearing black face coverings. It was so crowded that I actually got whipped on the arm by one of them. Turns out the whips are pretty soft! Once I got a closer look, I saw that there were two big patches of about 50 razor cuts on the mens' backs. To achieve the bloodied look without using a real whip to pierce the skin, they make lots of incisions before they start and then spread the blood around with the whips.

The bloody procession was moving toward the beautiful Metropolitan Cathedral in the center of the town. Once the men reached this site, they would lie face down on the pavement in front of the church. Women and children were standing nearby to gently continue the whipping. The kids seemed like they were really enjoying themselves, slapping the men with their sandals and gently kicking them. After some amount of time, the penitents would get up, make the sign of the cross, and walk away to make room for the next group. Along with people carrying crosses, which is the third and least violent method of repentance, they begin the long walk to the site of the crucifixion.

Metropolitan Cathedral in San Pedro Cutud

The heat was pretty unbearable- maybe 95 degrees and no shade in sight. After we'd seen enough of the whipping for one lifetime, we retreated indoors until it was time to head to the crucifixion. The field with a hill that has been chosen to represent Calvary is pretty far from the town center, so we took a pedi-cab as close as we could. The walk was still pretty far, and involved crazily darting back and forth across the street through a massive crowd to catch every small patch of shade. We arrived at the field just in time. Squeezing through throngs of sweaty Filipinos, we found a spot just to the side of the action.  People with good views must have arrived hours earlier. Over loudspeakers there were shouts from Roman guards and loud weeping from Mary Magdelene, all in Filipino, before the three crosses on the hill were lowered. The first batch of men being crucified wore microphones so their screams could be heard throughout the crowd, but the loud cheering still drowned them out. Once the nails were carefully positioned and driven through the hands and feet of the three men, the crosses were lifted. 10 minutes later the nails were plucked out, the crosses lowered, and the process began again with the next group. Unable to stand the heat much longer, we began to make our way out of the crowd.  I had expected this to be a more gruesome, somber, reflective experience, and in that respect I was disappointed. Still, as a cultural experience it was definitely interesting and I'm glad I was able to see it. Even though it's not far from Manila, most of the Filipinos I've talked to about it have never seen it before and think it's a little over the top.

Easter Sunday
Sunday morning Nathan and I attended a beautiful sunrise service with some friends that live here- they're actually the parents of our friend Stephen from San Francisco. There was lots of joyful singing, an upbeat sermon complete with a jazzy interlude, and we followed it up with a picnic in the park. It was a great way to start the day. I really love Easter, it fills me with so much hope to remember all over again that He conquered death on our behalf. Hallelujah!