Nasty Parasites

Turns out I’ve had chronic amoebic dysentery for months. I was treated and became joyous about the prospect of getting my strength back. But improvement was slow and treatment side effects set me back. At times I felt like crying. I still felt horrible and was freaked out about bloody urine. My mood was saved by enjoying good conversation of other volunteers. When I finally saw Dr. Gozo, he said the bloody urine and nausea are side effects of the medicine. He told me to go on my planned vacation. So I left for Mindanao, though I was not feeling well at all. While vacation was fun, I remained sick. I doubt myself. Am I really always sick? or have I become a pessimist, or hypochondriac? When in town, it seems like I mostly sleep. My health and lack of energy is discouraging. By mid-August, though back at work, my health was poor. I felt hot, lacking in energy, and depressed. I’m wondering if this amoeba may be a permanent thing. On the last day of August I discovered that I’ve got worms—probably tapeworms—that’s what it looks like.

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The Great Peace Corps Exodus

I learned that Bob is going home. I can certainly understand. The day before I had spent in barrios Camangahan and Ilaures weighing children with the nurses and Mrs. Nava. I felt hot and listless. I was depressed and had no energy. I took a nap at 3 in the afternoon. I felt close to terminating, wanting to go home and be a hermit. My unhealthiness makes my motivation dwindle. When I woke from the nap I finished reading Rubyfruit Jungle, which I enjoyed, but it depressed me by reminding me of the independence I don’t have here. So I understood Bob’s decision.

For me, pondering an early departure, flying home is the result of a combination of things. I often get a feeling that I’m not useful here and I wonder if I’ll get much more out of the experience. It’s like that feeling you get in the middle of college, “What am I doing here?” and “Should I just move on to the rest of my life?” Perhaps we’re all just impatient in our early 20’s. It’s hard to make a decision and I can’t imagine what else I would do. Chances are I’ll probably stay here and complete my service, just like I did in college. But I want to be sure that my growth here is positive. I don’t want to act out of inertia. So many volunteers are quitting and going home. I think nine of our group have gone home already. That’s nine out of 28. There are only 3 volunteers left in my province. Our group has the highest termination rate in the Philippines and the Philippines Peace Corps has the highest termination rate in the world. Until this year it was the lowest. They’re calling it the domino effect, but at any rate, just about every volunteer talks about the possibility of going home for Christmas.

My mood was saved by enjoying good conversation with volunteers from other groups. It was nice to see some happiness, seriousness, and idealism left. The morale of our own group is depressing to say the least.

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Bahay Kubo (My Little Nipa House)

I’ve made a big decision to move. No, not back to America, but from barrio Pojo to barrio Ilaya about ½ kilometer away. I’m going to live alone. The extended family is too overwhelming and noisy for me just now. I want to do my own cooking and housework. Now that I’ve lost all the weight from amoebic dysentery, I need to think about maintaining my health and activity. The doctor in Cebu told me not to eat a lot of the typical foods that are hard to avoid when you’re living with a family. The family mostly eats rice and dried fish and a spinach-like green once a day. Not enough vegetables or fruit for my liking. I’m sure I’ll like living alone. I hope to get a cat.

Tomorrow I find out for sure if I can rent the Condez’ house in Ilaya. It will cost me 30 pesos/month I think (That’s almost $4.00). I will be disappointed if this falls through. The house is huge and open. It’s made of nipa (grass-like) and bamboo and is raised on stilts. The water pump is close and the toilet is water-seal (you flush it by throwing a bucket of water in). The toilet is a lot nicer than the one where I live now; it’s not outside. When you go down some stairs, you end up under the house at the toilet. Pretty nifty. I think I’ll get a 2 burner gas stove, like a Coleman, and maybe a “petromax”, like a Coleman lantern. I’ll need to buy a bed frame, mat, mosquito net, some pots, pan, dishes, and some buckets for showering, doing laundry and dishes, and flushing the toilet. It should be fun setting up house. I might even plant a garden. It’s a big step which will most likely make the two years better for me.

Telling the family that I plan to move was difficult. I told Inday first, then Nene. I think they understood. I explained that they were still my family and that I would come and visit often. But when I told Lolo and Lola, they were very upset and worried for me. I’ll surely have to come back here often to reassure them that my move is not an indication that I don’t care for them.

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Travel and a Retreat with Other Volunteers

Cebu City

Being in the big city, even with other volunteers,  life is so different. It was great to be with Patty from my group. We relaxed with a capital R, how fine. I enjoy her company. Just doin’ nothing. Patty and Linda and I toasted our 9 months of poignancy here in the Philippines. When I left Cebo, Patty took me to the airport and hugged me good bye. Feels like we’re sisters!

One day several volunteers hung around the Peace Corps Office having an interview with a State Department character. Then one evening we went to a consulate cocktail party. The PCV’s looked like tramps, but we all enjoyed ourselves and acted natural.

To fade in and out
of another human realm
can have impact immeasurable
independent of speed
and friction variables
less if approached
with safety devices

 War, Fire, and Pestulance – Visiting Volunteers in Mindanao

When I got to Cagayan I spent most of the day with Joe Shwegman in easy, natural conversation. We’re quite alike I think, only masculine and feminine versions. I’m loving being open, honest, and real. We went to a Walt Disney Movie and laughed hard.

I took a trip to visit Steve in Claveria. It took all day, with a swimming stop and a delay for flooding. I was still feeling sick and exhausted when I arrived at midnight. The next day, Steve showed me around and we went up to the mountains on motorcycles with Barry (another volunteer). I think Steve is growing a lot in Claveria, what a beautiful thing to see.

The return trek to Cagayan was miserable. We we met Joe and Rick, overdosed on ice cream, and went to a movie. I’m enjoying being with friends.The next day we headed to Iligan and got a room, did some crossword puzzles, took siesta, went to dinner and saw the movie Crazy Joe—too bloody for my taste. I was really exhausted and had weird dreams that I was sent home for being sick.

The following day we had to cancel our one hour trip to the Muslim city of Marawi because of the war. There had just been an ambush; 60 Muslim women and children were killed on that road by Christian radicals. They say the road is not safe until the Muslim radicals kill about 60 Christians in reprisal. The four of us decided to stay in Iligan. We had a good time, bought batik, native mats, baskets, shell plant hangers. Steve loves to bargain. We ate dinner at a neat restaurant and had fun bowling. Steve and I did terrible together. Joe and Rick are good.

We messed around in town and witnessed a huge two block fire. The buildings are cheap with bamboo houses scattered among the big wood buildings; so it burned rapidly. I swear the people saved everything from the buildings—mattresses flying out windows, everything. I think some people even saved their garbage. The people worked incredibly efficiently without specialized equipment and rescued almost all their belongings. Spectators did not get in the way as they would have in the states. In the afternoon we headed back to Cagayan with some very friendly Mormon Americans.

On the my last day in Mindanao, we shopped more and went to another movie, though I was burned out on movies. Kathy and I caught the Tuesday 7 p.m. boat to Cebu, sleeping in the boiler room, lower 3^rd class. The boat didn’t actually leave until 2 a.m. It took 12 hrs.; so we spent 20 hrs. on board. It was nice to see Patty again, and of course the doctor.

The following day I caught an early flight to Iloilo and a bus to Antique. It really is more layed back and slow paced here than in Cebu or Mindanao. I love it. Seeing the rice fields on the mountains is an exquisite welcome back. The family accepted me back as if I’d never gone away. I was afraid it might put distance between me and them. It didn’t.

Now I can see that this time
will some day be gone to flowering
in unapproached mind areas
transformed point of view
forever existent part of who I am

Skinny Dipping, Baptist Visitors, and a Stellar Breakfast

Just now I could stay here forever, at Camp Magsaysay. I would listen to the waterfall, watch the butterflies and lily pads on the pond, listen to folk music tapes, play Frisbee, skinny dip with the other Peace Corps women, read, and be free of staring eyes. I’m at a retreat with only peace corps volunteers, on the island of Bohol. It’s a luxury camping trip with a hired cook and a couple of spring fed swimming pools. The water is cool, but not freezing like in the Cascades. We’re at 2000 feet elevation in the mountains. The first day I got badly sunburned, but on the second day it was only 83° at 3:30 p.m., which felt cool and comfortable to me. I remember sprawling out on the meadow in the sunshine and someone finding a gray hair on my head. Days passed with Frisbee matches, volley ball, swimming, poker games, reading, etc.

The second day we relaxed all morning; having good talks with the women. I miss having American women in my assigned province. Then we went to the Chocolate Hills with John Loftus, Chris Hellwig, and Patty. That’s a scenic place 12 km. from our camp. Geologists still haven’t figured our how they came to be. They look like a bunch of rounded off chocolate chips. We had a good time, nothing dynamic, just mellow scenery, mellow people. In the evening there were poker games and comerarderie.

 

The food has been memorable. Last night we had dinuguan (pig intestines cooked in blood) and ampalaya (a vegetable with the texture of rubber bands and a taste more biter than anything I have ever experienced). The main course, however, was liver. The only thing to drink here is beer or coke (no milk or hot chocolate). I can’t even drink the beer any more because it aggravates my amoebic dysentery.  But the crowning touch was breakfast. We had asked for French Toast and we got it. The cooks had toasted all the bread and slathered it with the deep golden yellow French’s Mustard we’d brought for hot dogs. Great breakfast with a side dish of red rice and pork fat!

Its been a bonding experience for the two groups of rural health volunteers. One morning we occupied ourselves making tattoos on each others’ bodies with flair pens. Things like: “Sisterhood is Powerful” with a fist inside a female symbol.  Just when half of us were fully tatooed and the other half were skinny dipping in one of the pools, some Baptist missionaries from Minnesota showed up (we had rented a Baptist camp). The tattooed half kept Mr. and Mrs. Bible away from the pool and sent someone down the hill to ask the swimmers to be silent. Mr. Bible was quite a brilliant man, especially about politics. When I asked what he thought of martial law, he stated: “I think it’s good because now the men come home to their wives” (curfew and all). Isn’t that deep? Maybe Gerald Ford ought to try it in the states?

It’s been great skinny dipping with the other women when we slip down to the pool at night, singing old songs in the pool like Teen Angel, and doing the hokey pokey (you put your left boob in, you put your left boob out, you put your left boob in and you shake it all about, you do the hokey pokey and…) Between reading Rubyfruit Jungle, circumstances, and the fun I’ve been having with women, I feel myself being pulled in opposite directions, but I guess I feel safer with the female group.

To have the chance to walk alone unnoticed
stranger in a strange land having found
this week’s hideaway with naked nights
and freedom strolls for revitalization

Then, during the evening poker game, the blue eyes of one of the guys pulled me in. We began a mutual crush. We had a great time making up stories about how romantic the setting was. One evening we scurried away to one of the empty cabins back in the woods. He lit a candle and we sat down, but the rotting structure collapsed underneath us. He says, “this isn’t how it is in the movies”. I said “sure it is, if we’re Ryan O’Neil and Barbra Streisand as opposed to Ryan and Ali”. His gentleness and patience made me feel better than in as long as I can remember. It was nice to spend uninhibited time without any Filipinos staring or starting rumors.

Holding back from blue eyes calling
past other minds not hearing words
unsaid from you to me in crowds
leading inevitably to hours of skin
unguarded when I’d forgotten how to give