Back in Action... Update by Jacques

Warriors.  When Alana took me to upstate New York to see where she grew up I stumbled upon quite a surprise.  We visited the farm house where she feed the animals, planted trees, built back decks, swam the pond, sledded the snowy hills, searched for adventure in the wooded forest, painted the house, and sorted bolts when her and her sisters weren't getting along.

 Then we went to visit the high school she attended.  It was cool to see the cinderblock she got to decorate upon graduation in the "senior hall," experience her running into teachers she had had once upon a time, (one was even the superintendent of the school district and Alana's picture was on his office wall with a special math class he had taught when she was there), and visit the gym.

 Not many of my friends nor family may know what an athlete Alana is or that amongst other sports she played she actually played four years of NCAA college basketball for a small college in upstate New York.  When we entered her high school gym I felt like I had stepped back into time into my gym in Lafayette.  The hard wood floor creaked, the bleachers pushed back against the wall to make more room for practice, the banners decorated the walls up above the bleachers, the smell of sweat driven into the air, then I looked midcourt and saw the big blue circle with Warriors written in it.

 She is a Warrior!!!  So am I!!  I'm an Our Lady of Fatima Warrior.  Alana is a Hannibal High School Warrior.  Our connection grew significantly stronger that day :-) and our children will no doubt be raised as Warriors (those of you who played sports with Alana or I know what I mean).

 Arrived.  We have made it safe and sound back to the Philippines.  Denver to San Fran to Hong Kong to Manila.  Our luggage was way overweight and we paid dearly (may have to legally name our first child United) to have it checked to Manila.  Luggage was filled with books and gifts for our new Filipino peoples and only 30% of the weight was actually ours.  The trip took 26 hours, including a 14-hour flight from San Fran to Hong Kong.  Got a lot of work done on that flight, slept, ate, watched movies, and didn't even unbuckle my seat belt (Warrior).

 Can you say "HEAT WAVE!"?  (87 degrees, 85% humidity)  I'm more used to it than Alana from growing up in South Louisiana and it still hit us hard after sleeping with comforters for 4+ months in Colorado.  Time to buck down and start walking slower.  Nice to sleep naked though :-)

 Alana was a trooper as always.  She felt good throughout the travel, did exercises every chance she could get to stay limber and kept her blood moving.  We did let our guard down a bit in Hong Kong with a four-hour layover and almost missed our flight to Manila.  Finally arrived at the Pension house in Manila at 1am (Filipino Youth Hostel, no AC, only fans), got the American Idol update from Gale (Alana's mother) on email (it was way time for Jacob to go), and hit the hay working to get our internal clocks reset after the 14 hour shift into the future.

 We learned the next day from our regional director that our room with our last host family is being used by one of their nieces so we are on the hunt for somewhere to stay for a or two until we can properly look for an apartment.

 The Mall.  Forced ourselves to get up the morning after we arrived so we wouldn't sleep through the day, which would be our night in Colorado.  We needed to walk, stretch our legs, get some food, drink some water, get into the AC for a few hours.  To the mall!  Walked around, texted Peace Corps staff and Peace Corps friends to let them know we were here, saw a movie, then ended up eating at a restaurant called Gumbo. 

 Authentic Cajun food . . . right!  I saw those little Filipino suckers back there chopping and stirring and tasting and adding spices here and there . . . and none of them were drinking beer while they were cooking . . . how is that authentic Cajun?  Alana had seafood jambalaya and it was pretty good.  I didn't want to be to disappointed so I had salmon pizza :-)  Funny that we ate Filipino dishes when we were in Colorado (learning to cook mung beans) and then come to the Philippines to eat Cajun food.

 Taxi Shape.  Alana loves Manila.  When she was here by herself for a week of physical therapy in November she learned to ride the jeepneys to her medical appointments 10 miles away instead of taking a taxi.  I think she even walked it one time.  Saved lots of pesos (Warrior) and she was almost always the only white person on the jeepneys.  Big . . . white . . . American . . . woman.

 One day she got on a jeepney that was super crowded (they can hold 20-25 Filipino people in the backs of these old jeeps they used in WWII that would hold about 10-12 normal size Americans).  Have I told you this story yet?  A few stops later a young man got on and sat next to her and pretty quickly the women in the jeepney started to holler at him in the local language.  The next stop he got off and a local lady told Alana that he was going to try and put his hand into Alana's bag and steal something (Filipino Women Warriors).

 I don't like Manila so much.  Big big cities just don't do it for me.  Too much concrete, too much craziness.  My biggest peeve is the taxi drivers and how they have many tricks to swindle us out of our pesos.  I don't mind paying a fair price for a ride yet it's not cool to load all of our bags in the trunk and then 100 yards down the road instead of putting the meter on saying "300 pesos" for a ride that we know only cost 200 pesos.  We forgot about that trick and at that point, with our luggage in the trunk, it was hard to say "stop" and get out.

 Even when we insist on the meter, they drive around a bit.  We know where we are most of the time and just look at each other wondering if they are just incompetent (you don't even need a drivers license to be a taxi driver here) or shifty :-)  So, we are working on getting our "taxi chops" back in shape to be assertive (Warriors) so we don't feel taken advantage of and can continue to think highly of the Filipino people.

 Manny Pacquiao!!!  We love Manny, and the Filipino people are crazy for him (Filipino Warrior Hero).  We wanted to watch the fight today and also were scheduled to be re-sworn in at the Philippines Peace Corps office by our Country Director at 1:30pm.

 We watched the last Pacquiao fight in November at Lola & Amador's (first host family) home.  It was on regular TV and between each 3-minute round we watched 7-9 minutes of commercials.  Let's see . . . carry the two . . . move the decimal . . . add a pinch of insanity . . . that was 2 hours and 5 minutes to watch a 48 minute fight. Since there were three fights before the Pacquiao-Mosley fight and the fights started at 8am Filipino time, we knew we wouldn't make it to the Philippines Peace Corps office on time watching it on regular TV.

 So after we moved out of our private room with a bathroom for 1100 pesos ($27) a night, left my luggage in the 10-bed dorm room (bathroom down the hall) on the assigned top bunk bed for 400 pesos ($10) a night, and hauled Alana's luggage to the Philippines Peace Corps Office, we went walking looking for somewhere to watch the fight on satellite or pay-per-view (no commercials) even though we knew we would have to pay.  Too rich of an experience to miss watching Manny Pacquiao fight while sitting amongst his own people.  They all love him . . . did I mention that?

 Where's the best place to see the fight?  Follow all the other Filipino people carrying bags of food.  They were headed to the Mall of Asia (huge) and we got tickets for 500 pesos (about $12) each and sat in a huge air-conditioned theater that held probably 4000 people to watch Manny do his Pac-Man thing.

 What a trip!  Filipino people in public are very quiet.  There is no public display of aggression, no one yelling in traffic, no talking loud in restaurants, no children running around playing wildly.  We sat in the second row and were super early of course (Americans).  When we got there the first of the three warm-up fights was starting and there were maybe 50 people in the whole place.  When the Pacquiao-Mosley fight was about to begin the place was packed, people standing on the sides, and I hadn't heard anyone come in.

 When they interviewed Manny the place laughed like crazy, I think because he was so short compared to the blonde, skimpy dressed interviewer and maybe kept looking at her chest, which was eye level to him.  When Manny entered the arena at the MGM in Las Vegas our movie theater cheered with pride.

 We were the only Americans there, heck, the only foreigners there.  They played the Filipino National Anthem and everyone in our theater stood and sang.  We stood too (Warriors).  They played the American National Anthem and everyone sat down.  We sat too (non-Warrior).  The first time Manny knocked down Mosley our theater went crazy and everyone was on their feet.  Very exciting and very much worth the 500 pesos.

 I Swear!  Mama taught me not to swear in public.  Thinking about her a lot today as it is the third anniversary of her passing.  Happy mother's day.  After the fight, we ended up being about 30 minutes late to the Philippines Peace Corps office.  No worries mate, it's the Philippines!  Nothing runs on time here and in reality we were still very early.

 We sat through the opening ceremony of the Leadership Camp Alana will be helping facilitate for the next week outside of Manila then stood in front of the big Philippines Peace Corps logo on the wall in the reception area between the big American and Filipino flags and our country director swore us back in.

 Now the first time we swore in, in November, it was in Bacolod in front of a few hundred people, the American Ambassador for the Philippines, and all together as a group.  I didn't really swear in because I didn't say the words because I didn't really know what they meant (when I have to sign those six page forms to get a rental car in the USA and I don't have the time, interest, lawyer savy, or patience to read the fine print, I just sign James Taylor).

 This time it was just Alana and I repeating after our Country Director with a few of our Peace Corps Peers there to witness and take pictures.  The oath is the same one that the President of the United States takes.  To defend the constitution (I don't even know what the constitution says or how to defend it) against enemies foreign and domestic (Alana & I have no enemies and I'm not that much of a fighter) etc, etc.

 I didn't understand most of what I was repeating and there was a confused, wrinkled eyebrow look on my face.  So, in the end, I caved to the pressure of repeating the oath (non-Warrior) and then signed the written oath James Taylor (Warrior).

 Big Rain.  So Alana took off from the office for her 8 day Leadership Camp and I decided to head back to the Pension house for the evening.  It is a nice 30 minute walk (about 4 kilometers) and after the 500 pesos fight event and battling a few taxis since we've arrived I looked forward to stretching my legs a bit and saving some pesos.

 It was cloudy weather and a bit cooler and not 5 minutes into the journey I look across this huge parking lot and saw a sheet of rain headed towards me.  Of course I have no umbrella, no rain jacket, and there is no store or building to duck into.  I'm about 200 yards away from the highway overpass so I start to walk quickly then run thinking I can outrun the rain-sheets barreling at me like the bees in the 1978 movie "The Swarm."  NOT!  The quarter size raindrops caught up to me and in about 15 seconds I was soaked to the bone and laughing.  I actually love the rain in warm climates.  Very cleansing.

 I end up under the highway overpass anyway with all the homeless people.  They were collecting water to cook with and had buckets with clothes in them collecting clean water to wash with.  Every one of them holler out to me, most of them saying, "Hey Joe!"  I wave and smile with a big "Hey Juan" or "Hey Juanita" reply.

 One drunk old man came and started talking to me about the Manny Pacquiao fight, acting like he was sparring with me.  His friend, taking off and wringing out his t-shirt told me in the local language to not give the old man money cause he already had too much wine.  Two or three of them tried to call a taxi for me and then look confused when I told them in Cebuano (which they barely understand cause they speak Tagolog) that I would walk.

 Finally I took off in the drizzle (Warrior).  What the heck, I was already soaked and couldn't get any wetter.  I had about 3 kilometers left and taxis kept slowing down and honking at me as if to ask me if I want a ride.  Gotta start saving our pesos and I enjoyed the rest of my observations on the way back to the Pension house; children playing in the puddles, homeless cleaning their areas with the fresh water, birds hunkered down in bushes, water, water everywhere.  At least the temperature had dropped a few degrees.

 Looking Forward.  Got back to the Pension house, set my clothes up to dry in the men's dorm room under a fan, got a tuna curry sandwich, watched an episode of Stargate Atlantis on the computer, and went to sleep.

 I'm looking forward to getting back to Dumaguete and gathering all of our stuff from our last host family's house.  Still have to figure out where we are going to stay until we find our own place.  I head out for the 15 day traveling teacher's conference on Sunday.  I will present a 3-hour PowerPoint supported presentation called BrainClass 8 times in the two weeks (brought my air horn).

 Alana will arrive in Dumaguete on Monday or Tuesday after I leave and maybe find us a place by the time I get back, she has strong community connections already.  I admire her for getting here and jumping into facilitating Leadership training for local high school students inside of 48-hours (Warrior) and continuing to do her exercises to keep her back strong.

 I couldn't sleep long.  Lots on my mind.  It's 2am Filipino time and my head is still in noon Colorado time.  The electricity has been out for hours because of the storm outside and things are eerily quiet around here yet still comforting as I start to notice the few candles that have been put out in the corners of commons areas by the staff. Reminds me of hurricane season growing up in Louisiana when Mama would pull out the oil lanterns.  I thought I'd take the time to check in with you . . . yet alas . . . I have little to say.