Despite the blatant lack of posts and after realizing that my last post was all the way back in December, I thought I would come back to recap and revisit on the past three months that have seemed to fly by!

I have just over 48 hours left in the Philippines and I have a lot of thoughts and reflections that I will need to get out so expect a few blog posts, even after my return to Canada.

For now, what follows are a select few of my responses as part of my final report that I submitted to my internship program. 

What were your greatest challenges in the placement? How did you overcome them?

I would classify my challenges into two categories, personal and professional, and will discuss them separately below.

Personal 

One of the greatest challenges was getting accustomed to the noise and pollution that came with living in a developing country that has lax emission and noise regulations. Initially, this was not much of a concern but after my initial move, it began to affect my sleep and consequently, my performance at work. The differences in my lifestyle versus that of a Filipino family became very clear but I overcame this by talking with the party that I was living with and then ultimately deciding that it would be best for me to move to another place that is more conducive to my lifestyle. Since the other party was my coworker, the situation could have lead to conflicts at work but we were both understanding and open with each other, which made everything easier. Throughout my placement, noise was an issue but I managed to deal with it by using earplugs (a Godsend!) or closing my windows, etc.

At other times, one of the challenges I faced was trying to communicate with Filipinos that had little to no understanding of English, which, thankfully, did not happen too often but whenever it did I would resort to using my limited Tagalog that I knew to overcome the language barrier. If that was not enough, I would either find a Filipino who knew English well enough to help me communicate or, if I was lucky enough to be with a Filipino friend, ask him/her to get my message across.

One of the greatest personal challenges I faced was maintaining an (emotional and personal) connection with family, friends and significant other. Being so far away and dealing with the time differences and schedules was, at times, daunting. But, I overcame this by utilizing all the various technological means of keeping in touch (calling cards, email, blog, social networking, skype, etc) and, at times, having patience in technology. This allowed not only my family and loved one’s to know how I was doing/give them comfort but it also helped with the ‘homesick’ feelings I had over the placement.

Professional 

After my arrival and once my work commenced, one of the challenges was finding a chance or opportunity to receive feedback on my suggestions and work. Often times, my supervisor would be too busy and, at times, I felt that I did not have his undivided attention. Other times, I would send a report that I had done and days would go by without me receiving acknowledgement or feedback of my work, which made it hard for me to assess my performance and learn from my work. I overcame this by voicing my concern at the Planning workshop in Bataan during discussions with the entire office where everyone was outlining the concerns they had in regards to working at WorldFish. Afterwards, my supervisor was more attentive and receptive to my suggestions and was quicker in getting back to me on my submissions which allowed me to get a better understanding of what they wanted and allowed me to improve my work.

 Another professional challenge was the cognitive dissonance I felt when the experience at WorldFish clashed with my expectations coming into the placement. One the one hand, I expected to be actively engaged in projects (after all, my placement position title was Project Officer) but on the other, I spent my time in the office editing and contributing to reports on projects that had already been conducted. Not being able to go to MPA sites and other projects being conducted by WorldFish was frustrating and I wanted to understand why I had not been exposed to that area. I overcame this frustration by communicating and voicing my concerns to the Director and to Heidi which led me to understand that due to circumstances not under anyone’s control (e.g. timing of projects, timing of the start of placement) led to the situation that I found myself in.

However, because of serendipity, I ended up going on a trip with a friend to Gaspar Island (off the main island of Mindoro) with the main intention to donate school supplies and clothes to the local children. During my trip, I ended up discovering that there was a Marine Protected Area that had been newly established on the tiny island and how dependent the people living on the island were dependent on marine and agricultural resources for their sustenance and livelihood. Being able to interact (although to a limited degree because they did not know English) with the elders, the children and the community led me to appreciate the work that I had been doing and would be doing throughout my placement. These were the people that my work will be directly impacting and making a positive contribution to. These are the people that organizations like WorldFish help (and exist) in increasing food security and improving their livelihood. Seeing how the fishermen would go during early morning to catch fish and the others would tend to the farm and livestock – obtaining that perspective helped me overcome any frustration that I had once held. I was fortunate enough to have had this experience and this is why I believe that part of developing professionally is to form that connection between the work that you are doing (whether it’s in the office or wherever) and to the people and communities that your work impacts (either indirectly though policy or directly through new projects).

Why was this placement of value to you?

The opportunity of being able to be in a part of the world that I know little about, experientially, and being able to live and work in a different culture has been immensely rewarding, both personally and professionally. On a personal level, it has allowed me to extend my comfort boundaries, become flexible in tolerating noise, pollution, living accommodations and, ultimately, to appreciate the conveniences that afford a Western lifestyle. The placement has also allowed me to befriend local Filipinos and interact with them, learning about their lives and sharing my experiences along the way. This experience has allowed me to take the time to reflect on how everyone, all around the world, cares about their environment and their own, as well as their families’, prosperity. And, with enough education and empowerment, they can mobilize a change in how our ecosystems are managed to leave behind a planet in a better state for their children than how it was when they entered the world.

Being able to network and meet other individuals involved in different areas of international development, whether it is at the International Rice Institute or at the Southeast Asian Regional Center for Graduate Study and Research in Agriculture, and hearing their views, experiences and perspectives has been professionally enriching. Moreover, having had the opportunity to supplement my international development experience from Canada with actual international development experience will lend credibility towards my professional portfolio and make me more desirable to future employers and I am very grateful for that. Now, having the experience of working with natural resource management in an international setting, I have a greater appreciation of what is involved while working at an NGO, the activities the organization engages in and the results of their projects with the ultimate aim of increasing food security for coastal communities through fisheries research and management. I sincerely hope, and have good faith, that the work that I have done during my five months will be of value in developing future projects at the WorldFish Center, influencing policy on marine resources and their protection, and catalyze discussions on fisheries management.

One of the things that I have had to get used to was the way you’re told where things are. I’m used to being told street names, landmarks, and addresses, but in the Philippines you are usually told go straight/left/right and “you’ll see it” or “it’s right there” or “you can’t miss it” or “it’s kanaan [on the right]”. Needless to say, this leaves much to be desired so I’m often left guessing as to what they mean or asking them how far in minutes or if it’s near a church or something more recognizable. And good luck asking for street names as most streets either don’t have names (may have unofficial names) or even if they do, there are no signs to indicate the name so they might as well not have one! In some ways, it can be fun because going to where you need to go ends up being somewhat of a treasure hunt and you also get to talk to people along the way as you ask over and over again until you get to your destination. On the whole, however, most of the places that you would want to go to are fairly well known (big shops, malls, grocery store, produce market) so chances are anyone who you ask on the street could tell you. But sometimes, it helps to have a Filipino friend around if you’re going to a more obscure place.

One of the more frustrating experiences I’ve had a few times is when you tell the taxi driver or motor tricycle driver where you want to go and he nods or says he knows where your destination is. After you get in, you soon realize that he has no idea where the place is and then it turns into an awkward affair whereby the driver (sometimes) does not want to acknowledge that he does not know where it is to save face or not look dishonest and you are trying to ascertain how to get out of the situation, all the while saying “Sa’an [where] [destination]” repeatedly in a last ditch effort to see if there is a glimmer of hope. Other times, even if the driver doesn’t know, he can use his radio and ask other cabbies where the place is which is reassuring…if he has a radio at all. Welcome to the Philippines!

Wednesday, December 8, 2010 – 11:45 pm

I’m currently lying down on my bed in my new, sparsely furnished room in the (mostly empty still) house that I just moved into the other day. The constant hum of the fan competes with She will be loved by Maroon 5 playing at the nearby square in the distance (hard to discern if its karaoke or the actual song) mixed with sporadic car alarms going off and the low buzz of traffic on the streets (luckily, my room does not look onto the street so road noise is really low). All things considered, I’m thankful for my earplugs. Above my bed is a large opening that forms the cage that is holds the (currently non-existent) air conditioner, which is also the main culprit letting in the terrible singing (although, I’m not one to judge on that—more on that in another post) and, worst of all, the mosquitoes. This is why I’ve surrounded myself with the warm glow of a candle and a magical anti-mosquito plug-in device that I was given which I am almost certain does nothing, but with the threat of mosquito attack one will believe almost anything that promises to repel the ruthless bloodsuckers (I’ve even seen wristbands in stores).

It’s a bit weird settling in after already having “settled in” at my old place. When I arrived in the Philippines, one of the advantages (compared to the typical situation) was that I already had a place to stay with two other interns who happened to have an extra room since another intern had left recently, which I lined up while still in Canada after getting in touch with them. The caveat was that the two interns would be leaving around mid-December so I had to find another place to stay. So really, in the end, I did have to find a place on my own, which brings along with it certain, unique issues. For one, I couldn’t go to Kijiji or Craigslist and just find a place to stay, which is the first thing I would’ve done. Instead, I had to do it the “old fashioned way”: asking people and walking around town looking for ‘For Rent’ signs. Luckily, I asked around at work and was suggested a few places (since it’s a university town, student housing is abundant) or people to talk to.  I ended up looking at two places that were decent but I felt too isolated from the city and I would be living by myself. Around the same time, a colleague at work told me that another co-worker was planning on moving so he could be closer to work and had already found a place and was looking for a roommate. Hallelujah! So I went to look at the place and liked it the most compared to everything else I saw. This place definitely felt like it could be cozier and feel like a home. My place is in the central part of Los Banos which is very welcoming considering that my old place was up the mountain about a 20 minute walk from the main street of the town. Being close to convenience stores, restaurants, cafes and bars is very gratifying, especially if you have to get a few things last minute. I would have put up with a cockroach-infested, ant-riddled, dilapidated dwelling if I realized how convenient it is to live close to amenities.

Over the remaining week, I’ll be settling in, unpacking and making the new place look more like a home instead of the mostly empty expanse that it is right now. A lot of the things I need will be taken from my old place since the other intern, Matt, is leaving soon.  It’s interesting that the three interns went from living with each other to all of us living in three different places and all within a one month time span.

Pictures of the place as it slowly becomes my home for the next four months will follow soon. I’ve also realized that I haven’t made a post about the actual city itself so look forward to a post on that as well as my thoughts on the jeepny. Oh, and of course, the final installment of my adventure on Gaspar Island.

Paalam!

Earlier in the day, after painting nails of children until I turned blue from its vapours, we had lunch which consisted of rice (quintessential as anyone living in the Philippines will know), whole fried fish (locally caught, of course), and a lentil and chicken stew type dish. It was delicious in its simplicity and filling, to the point where I succumbed to a much-welcomed nap. After I awoke, I eventually ended up being surrounded by a group of boys as I sat in the hut on a tree trunk that had been morphed into a bench, trying to use my extremely limited Tagalog and the children using their Tagalog (most of the time completely oblivious that I did not know what they were saying despite my blank stares as I frantically searched with my eyes for a Filipino friend to rescue me from this language-induced stale mate) and very limited English to communicate. At some point, some of them started softly singing and it dawned on me that they were singing not just any song but a western pop song and not just any western pop song but Shaggy (Angel)! Soon after, I had joined in their chorus of Girl you’re my angel, you’re my darling Angel. Closer than my peeps you are to me, baby. All of them started to smile and laugh and next thing you know, all of them were singing along. And whenever it came to the more intense reggae parts, they would just perform a combination of mumbling/non-decipherable singing but as odd as it was I could still figure out what they were trying to sing just by their melody and rhythm. This went on for a little bit until someone switched to Sean Kingston (Suicidal) which was us basically singing the main chorus over and over again. Even though we didn’t know all the lyrics (I was just as bad as they were when it came to remembering all the lyrics of either of the songs), we were all so into it. And they could tell that I was engrossed in it too; one reason being that I was excited that they even knew a western pop song. At the end, we all laughed it off and then one of the younger kids (maybe 6 years old) came out from the small gathering, approached me and put his little hands on my arm and said, “I wub you.” I had been rendered speechless but cuteness. I sat there awash in his adorableness as my brain frantically tried to fetch a reply back, “I wub you too.” is what it mustered.

The late afternoon sun hung lazily above the horizon as dusk started to take over giving way to a spectacular sunset as silhouettes formed of the children playing in the distance. As the day gave way to the night, we sat under the bright orange glow of the kerosene powered lamp and had dinner (a similar affair to lunch with slight variations) while the children went up to their homes for the day. The day drew to a close as we played cards and talked amongst ourselves about our day, about how we were all attempting to remember some of the dozens and dozens of kids’ names while also telling them our own and trying to comprehend how they all have so much energy!

Our sleeping arrangements pressed us to be inventive as there were more people than there were beds to sleep on so we rearranged the hut furnishings and laid down a tarp in the middle to accommodate the extra bodies. After analyzing the beds (they consisted of nothing more than a flat wooden surface), I decided that sleeping on the coral sand would be a better idea (despite the presence of beach critters such as hermit crabs).

The following morning we rose with the rising sun as our bodies pleaded for more sleep. We were getting up early because we would be hiking to the other side of the island (I realized later that it was not literally the other side but more like around to the side). Our adventure began as we hugged the coral coastline walking under arching coral rock made smooth from the pounding of the incessant waves. It was the start of a somewhat treacherous walk as we had to watch our step so that we wouldn’t slip and cut ourselves on parts of the serrated coral rock that had not been the victim of the waves of the sea. Then there were the sea urchins hiding in the dark corners and shallow pools of water. Eventually our trek along the coastline led us to an incline leading to the dense forest, where the rest of our hike would be. It was at this point that I felt in I was in some movie or on The Survivor as our guide was using his machete to slash through the vines, branches and thickets to allow for safe passage. The day before it had rained substantially so the dirt on the ground was no longer dirt but a combination of clay-like mud mixed with forest detritus. As we hiked, we passed a cave, the floor littered with, what we were told, were human remains and parts of skulls, along with pieces of pottery. The thick, sticky mud became almost permanently caked onto my flip flops becoming almost as thick as the flip flops themselves. This made for a tricky hike as I had absolutely no grip and had to constantly stop to try and scrape some of the gunk off using the sharp coral rock, but the mud was like taffy and any attempt to take the mud off usually resulted in more mud becoming stuck. Eventually, I decided it was a lost cause and had to deal with the front end of my flip flops popping out as my feet slipped underneath the terrain. The first time it happened, I panicked and yelled “My flip flops broke!” because from my experience, whenever the front of the flip flop pops out, they were goners (and also because being shoeless on a hike through a muddy, unfamiliar jungle isn’t pleasant). Luckily, I had the so-called world’s best rubber flip flops and a friend popped the front right back in. Crisis averted. I love those flip flops and even more so after that. As we were hiking through the forest, in my mind I was thinking (naively as it turned out) how we were such explorers, navigating our way through unexplored jungle, after all, our guide was using a machete to carve a hiking trail. It didn’t take long for that realization to be shattered as we came across corn plantations, chickens and pigs. It turned out that even all the way near the top of the island the village maintained a swath of land for agricultural purposes! After resting and browsing through the guava, corn, kalamansi (makes terrific juice by the way—kind of like lemonade), papaya, and other crops we made our way down to the isolated white sand beach where we washed our mud-caked footwear and basked in the hot tropical sun until lunch arrived (in the form of a boat delivering our meal). Before lunch we were treated to BBQ corn and for lunch we had whole crab in a vegetable stew, squid, a big tuna fish, rice, and absolutely the best banana I’ve ever tasted in my life.

The area was surrounded by massive boulders of coral rock with clear turquoise water all around and with a cave-like cavity gouged into the rock behind the sandy beach. Sometime after lunch, I decided to grab snorkel gear to see the creatures of the sea but it turned out that with all the coral bleaching, the vibrancy and biodiversity normally associated with coral reefs was nowhere to be seen. I saw entire farms of sea urchins, small schools of fish, a box fish, a parrot fish and the occasional sunfish but nothing like Finding Nemo. I guess this was why a large zone around the island had been declared a Marine Protected Area (MPA) as the sign outside the newly constructed MPA administration building indicated. Not wanting to head back so soon, I snorkelled all the way out to the edges of the reef where the water was considerably colder and darker and saw a gigantic (almost school bus-sized) brain coral surrounded by the occasional fish but as I ventured farther, the water turned darker and, along with it, my hopes of seeing more marine life so I decided to head back to the shore.

After gallivanting along the isolated stretch of sand taking pictures, we headed back to our hut by boat (thankfully) and I was brimming with excitement because we were about to do what we came there for: donating clothes and school supplies to the children.

To be continued…

The evening air was heavy and thick as the jeepny trudged along on the way to Sao Pablo, stopping along the way to pick up more passengers. The ride left little in the way of any sort of comfort zone but that was soon overshadowed by the realization that this was the longest (and the fastest) jeepny ride I had been on since I had arrived to the Philippines. An entourage of friends and people I had never met (some, like myself, from Los Banos, and others from Manila) were all meeting at port Dalahican in the city of Lucena to embark on a ferry to the island of Marinduque and to our ultimate destination: Gaspar Island. I accepted that it was going to be a long journey. The jittery ride in the jeepny ended as we arrived in Sao Pablo to catch a one and a half hour bus to the port. Relief from the late night humidity came as I felt a cool rush entering the bus, only to be acoustically assaulted by a TV show blaring Filipino programming.  Once at the port (which I was impressed had free WiFi), after a 45 minute wait, we boarded the ferry, which ended up leaving little in the way of comfort. Upon entering through a gigantic cargo plane-like entrance we went up to the top level, away from the crowds for some peace and quiet, only to be greeted by more Filipino programming blasting away and harsh fluorescent lighting. The green, thin metal seats required a lot of imagination (and a lot of user-supplied padding) to manage anything remotely close to sleep so I opted to walk towards the front of the ferry where it was dark and quiet and planted myself on the bare metal floor, jammed my ear plugs and dozed off. The ear plugs worked remarkably well; in fact, a little too well (upon waking up, it took a few seconds to register that I was on a boat).

As we stumbled off the ferry in our sleepy stupor, we were greeted by hordes of cyclotaxi men and jeepny drivers yelling city names, all vying for our patronage. I was glad to find out that we did not have to haggle with a jeepny driver or wait for one that would have enough space for us and our luggage as we had our own jeepny waiting for us. The guy who organized the trip, Dominique, had done this for the past two years after he discovered Gaspar Island and had established a host family on the main island which provided a resting stop (however briefly) and good food during our journey. The sky was in a faint morning glow with the sun peeking over the horizon as we made our way to the house. Upon arriving to the crowing of roosters and rummaging of pigs and stray animals, despite being half asleep, I realized I was miles away from any city, minutes away from the coast, cramming into a small yet humble home of a stranger who was feeding us rice and fish for breakfast, on my way to an island without any running water, electricity or any of the modern conveniences that I have been accustomed to for twenty-four years. It was a riveting realization. After our breakfast, we walked to the shore, passing by more houses along with their pigs and chickens and palm tree plantations, where the boat of our host family was waiting our arrival. The rising morning sun painted a soft yellow hue across the earth as I looked back at the village one last time and hopped onto the boat towards Gaspar Island. The boat ride took longer than one would have expected if they were just looking at the distance from the main island, but as we closed in we could see children rushing to the shore to greet us and also our make-shift hut in the distance that would be our living accommodation for the two nights. The hut was as basic as you can get, with dried palm trees for the roof and flat wooden beds. Later during the day, we had to add an addition to the hut to accommodate the rest of the crew and also to put up tarps along the sides for protection from the dark rain clouds headed our way.

As we corralled our belongings into the hut, I surveyed the island. Parts of its shores was surrounded by grey coral rock and the white beach sand bar curved into the turquoise water, where you could see the sea covering a part of it in the distance. Our hut was on top of the mound of beach with the forest and village up the island. There was an outhouse that had been constructed (not completely) specifically for island hoppers and tourists, which was a relief, even though I had been camping in the past and was mentally prepared to do my business in a hole in the ground. Since there was no running water, they provided us one gallon containers of water and cups. These would also be used for bathing, although when I surveyed the outhouse, there was nothing resembling a tub or a place to take a shower. There was a sink that had been constructed, but no faucet. Alas, some improvisation would be necessary.

We spent the morning playing with the children as more and more were coming down from the village to greet us. Some of us, completely spent from the travelling, took a nap while others talked to the kids (the majority of the people that went were Filipino so they knew Tagalog but myself along with another intern, Stephanie, struggled a bit to communicate but it made for some funny ‘lost in translation’ type moments). Stephanie had brought nail polish in the off chance that the girls would want to get their nails painted. Turned out, it wasn’t just the girls because as soon as the girls started to get their nails done, the boys were clamouring for attention and wanted theirs done as well. Part of me wanted to tell them that getting your nails painted was a girly thing but I soon realized that this would fall on deaf ears, especially given the language barrier. Since I was just sitting there watching, I volunteered my services (and my hands). As soon as I had the nail polish in my hand, I had at least half a dozen hands in my vicinity competing for my attention.  So there I was, sitting on a beach to the rising sun, slathering blue nail polish on so many little fingers and thumbs that I lost count.

To be continued…