Sorry I haven't posted in a while. The following posts are a quick update of what I've been doing the past couple of weeks.
Friday, July 13, 2007
Sunday, July 1, 2007
Tomorrow I Get Deported
LOL j/k…but I hope the Philippine government doesn't read this post…
Before coming to the Philippines, I asked my parents if I needed to do anything regarding my passport, such as apply for a visa. "No!" they said. "You're the son of Filipino citizens—it should be okay." So I went on my merry way to the Philippines.
Last week, a conversation with O'Hagan brought up how she needed to apply for a multiple-entry visa. "Haha," I laughed. "I don't have to do that." "You sure?" she said. "Check your passport." I did. And then I realized that I'm an idiot.
Apparently you can stay in the Philippines for 21 days on a US passport alone. If you stay any longer than that, you need a visa waiver. And if you're planning to leave the country to travel around Asia and then enter again, like O'Hagan is and I was, then you need a multiple-entry visa.
My conversation with O'Hagan took place on Wednesday. I was like, well, I have time to get it renewed. Of course, I did not check how long it takes to actually renew a visa. Before learning that information, here is how I spent my time:
Wednesday: A tour of GK sites with Tito Tony—all day.
Thursday: GK1MB Rally—all day.
Friday: I got lazy—all day.
Saturday – Sunday: Government closed—all weekend.
Monday (Today): My visa expires—tomorrow.
The regular process for obtaining a waiver takes a week. For a fee, the expedited process takes 3 business days. But apparently, if you "talk" to the right people, it takes 1 hour.
Boo deportation. Hooray graft!
Karl and I went to the Bureau of Immigration, which is in charge of illegals like me. I walked in, expecting to find an office or a desk where I could renew my visa. Instead, I met Mr. X.
I told a random person wearing a
barong that I'm an American citizen and I need to extend my visa because it expires tomorrow. That was probably a mistake; I might as well have worn a shirt saying, "I'm foreign and ignorant—extort me please!" This random person introduced me to another random person, who shall be called Mr. X.
Mr. X is a bald, elderly Filipino gentleman also wearing a barong. He asks me in Tagalog if I speak any; I tell him that I know very little (extort me please!). He then lowers his voice to a shady volume and starts speaking to me in a broken English that I can barely hear or understand. He leads me over to a shadowy corner and somehow, through his broken English and my terrible Tagalog, I understand what he's talking about. There's a visa waiver fee, an expedited process fee, and his "fee."
Before coming to the Philippines, I heard that this kind of thing is standard operating procedure for dealing with police officers and government officials. Still, I don't know what I'm doing. So I tell Mr. X I need to go to my car. Instead, I meet Karl in a nearby Starbucks where he is waiting. I ask him if this is a good idea, but he hasn't been in this situation before—he's a citizen. So I call up a couple of relatives who might have been through this situation because they travel a lot, but I can't get a hold of anyone. Finally, I'm like: screw it.
I go back in. Mr. X takes me deeper into the building, into a dimly lit corridor, and we pass a poster that encapsulates the entire experience for me. The poster says, "Corruption and graft are not victimless crimes. Report people to this number xxxxxxxxx." Immediately, I think to myself: that thing is useless. I hand Mr. X my passport. I shake his hand, slyly slipping him the "fee." And he counts the money right in front of me, change and all, as nearby armed guards and government officials stare at us. I'm not going to be deported; I'm going to be arrested.
But nothing happens. Mr. X makes sure the money is all there and he tells me to come back in an hour. One more thing occurs to me as I leave the building; this guy could take my money and my passport and I would be severely screwed. I would spend the rest of my life as an American living as an illegal immigrant in the Mexico of Asia—oh the irony.
Karl and I wait patiently at Starbucks. An hour passes by. I walk back into the building. Mr X. is wating for me. He hands me this:
And inside:
Done and done.
Thursday, June 21, 2007
GK1MB Rally: Evidence of a National Movement
Today was the GK1MB Rally. 1MB stands for "Isang Milyon Bayani" (1 million heroes); it's a campaign to raise awareness about GK in the Philippines and around the world by getting people to participate in Gawad Kalinga through tours, builds, and rallies such as today's.
Today's rally was held at Araneta Center, where Karl and I watched a couple PBA games several weeks ago. Instead of basketball fans and bakla, however, the Center was packed with GK volunteers and beneficiaries. GK rented buses to get people from GK villages to the center.
The day was filled with music and dance performances by professional groups, volunteers, and beneficiaries. In-between the performances, GK fulltime volunteers, including the founder, Tony Meloto, gave talks on GK's impact on the lives of its beneficiaries. At one point, I was called up onstage alongside other Filipino-Americans and foreigners who were volunteering for GK.
The guy speaking in the picture is Dylan Wilk, a billionaire Englishman who sold off his video game distributing business in order to volunteer fulltime. He's also married to Tito Tony's daughter, Anna. O'Hagan and me are next, followed by Victor, Theresa, and Liberty, who go to Stanford. Calvin is the FilAm in the white polo; he goes to Georgetown, but he studied abroad at Ateneo University in Manila, where he also volunteered for GK. He gave an opera performance earlier during the day.
Karl and I mostly chilled backstage:
The day ended with more inspirational talks and a lot of dancing. Here's Myra and me looking hot:
In 3.5 years, GK has set up 1400 communities. That's thousands of former squatters whose lives have changed, hundreds of volunteers who take time away from their families in order to spend it with the poor, and a handful of fulltime workers who have given up entire careers in order to make that happen. I'll go into a comparison with other similar NGOs later, but if you knew and saw and what I know and see, you too would wonder why more people don't know about GK. I guess that's why I'm here.
Tuesday, June 19, 2007
The Killer Bus and Cute Baby Pictures
Karl and I decided to take public transportation to the GK office today. I did not realize this would comprise all forms of Manila public transportation.
Tricycle from Karl's neighborhood to bus station: 5 pesos.
Taking the "killer bus," which lacks air conditioning and flies through Manila traffic as fast as possible: 18 pesos.
Shaking hands with the guy sitting in the jeepney next to yours: 7 pesos.
Falling down inside the train because your hands are busy guarding your wallet and cell phone against pickpockets and snatchers instead of holding onto something: 10 pesos.
Getting to the office alive and seeing baby Pia's face: priceless.
Tricycle from Karl's neighborhood to bus station: 5 pesos.
Taking the "killer bus," which lacks air conditioning and flies through Manila traffic as fast as possible: 18 pesos.
Shaking hands with the guy sitting in the jeepney next to yours: 7 pesos.
Falling down inside the train because your hands are busy guarding your wallet and cell phone against pickpockets and snatchers instead of holding onto something: 10 pesos.
Getting to the office alive and seeing baby Pia's face: priceless.
Karl's 21st Birthday Epic
Today was Karl's debut. Women celebrate their debut at 18 and men at 21, although I don't know any guys in the states who celebrate their debut.
The party was held at my Tita Trixie's poolhouse:
This is the birthday boy:
And there are the event planners: Agatha, Karl's girlfriend; Tita Lydda, Karl's mom; and June, Karl's best friend:
Family and friends are great and all, but this is what Filipino parties are all about--food!
And this is what I'm all about:
The debut started with the food (of course). And then 21 of Karl's friends and family proceeded to give Karl 21 gifts and birthday wishes. I was number 18, and I gave him a book on the history of basketball, which is his favorite sport.
This is Karl's lolo giving his some elderly advice:
Here's a video of Mick-Mick's birthday wish:
The party was held at my Tita Trixie's poolhouse:
This is the birthday boy:
And there are the event planners: Agatha, Karl's girlfriend; Tita Lydda, Karl's mom; and June, Karl's best friend:
Family and friends are great and all, but this is what Filipino parties are all about--food!
And this is what I'm all about:
The debut started with the food (of course). And then 21 of Karl's friends and family proceeded to give Karl 21 gifts and birthday wishes. I was number 18, and I gave him a book on the history of basketball, which is his favorite sport.
This is Karl's lolo giving his some elderly advice:
Here's a video of Mick-Mick's birthday wish:
Karl's mom went last and presented him his birthday gift--keys to his new Honda CRV:
Dang it June we already know you're hot stop posing like an import model already!
And then the entire family took a picture:
Friday, June 15, 2007
Poverty in the Philippines
The Philippines has a huge problem with not only poverty, but squatters, people living illegally on property they don't own. Such situations commonly arise when a landowner hires someone, usually someone from the provinces looking for better employment in the cities, to take care of their land. While the landowner is gone, the caretaker invites extended family members also looking for better employment in the cities to stay with him for a week or two. Filipinos are very hospitable, and what started as a week or two may turn into months and eventually years; the caretaker won't kick out his family from his own home. In the meantime, however, that extended family might tell more family and friends about where they're living and the opportunity available in the cities, who will set up a new home on this piece of land that no one living on it owns, and who in turn will tell more people. And that's how a squatter colony is born. (Source: Jerick, a fellow GK worker)
If the land is needed for development, then the landowner will kick out the squatters; this is why, at least in Manila, most squatter colonies are located near landfills, where no one wants to live or develop. The squatters find that opportunity in the cities is not as plentiful or as profitable as they thought, especially if they lack specialized skills or an advanced degree, so they turn to scavenging the nearby landfill or engaging in illicit activities. And because they are living where they are illegally, they are outside the sphere of government protection, which consequently means they are at the mercy of syndicates, i.e. organized crime, who use brute force to control the squatter colony's access to illegally-tapped power and water lines, meaning they can extort the squatters for prices double what other residents pay. The syndicates also control the sale of drugs, which squatters are more likely to use in order to escape their daily doldrums.
The economic cycle of poverty is clearly illustrated by these anecdotes: squatters are not making much money; they have a higher cost of living because they are extorted by syndicates; and they're abusing drugs, which decreases motivation and hence productivity. But psychologically, what is happening? Squatters are spit upon by Philippine society; they are the outcasts, the spurned, the forgotten. No one wants to touch them; they are modern-day lepers.
But that's where GK comes in, and this is the most difficult part to explain about the organization. GK focuses on squatter colonies and it addresses the economic aspects of Philippine poverty; its shelter and productivity programs enable squatters to buy back their land and develop specialized skills in order to make money. Yet it is the psychological, even spiritual, aspect, that is what makes GK special, and what most people don't see. The work of GK is to restore dignity to the poor; the idea is that once the impoverished can believe in themselves, then they will want to own their own home, get a better job, and kick off drugs.
According to University of the Philippines studies, the average income in GK villages has actually decreased because the men are busy building houses or engaged in legal activities that pay less than illegal ones; nonetheless, happiness in the village and a positive outlook for the future has increased.
Today (or last week--I'm really behind in my blog posts), I visited Citigroup Village in Malacanyang Dulo (yes Citigroup Village--like PBA teams, villages are named after their corporate sponsors). This is what the entire village used to look like:
Most of it still looks like that. The roads are unpaved; there's a lot of trash; and there's even more flies. The smell is terrible; a couple of people were urinating in the street. And children are busy sweeping rubble:
Now here's how the village is starting to look:
This part, although a small part, is a lot cleaner and brighter. Here's how the pre-school looks:
The people sitting there are part of the caretaker team. Every GK village needs a group of local volunteers to help implement the programs and make the transition from a slum to a community. It also ties into GK's philosophy of dignity restoration; these volunteers are not afraid to reach out and touch their neighbor, leper or not.
Most volunteers tend to come from an organization called Couples for Christ, which serves the volunteer backbone for GK. I'll get into GK and religion in a later post.
Here are the villagers hard at work:
Here's me trying to learn what I can:
On the left is Jerick. He's a recent graduate of Ateneo University who works fulltime in the GK National Office, and he's in charge of evaluating the progress of GK villages in southern Manila. Many people in the office are young.
Of course I make time to play with the kids: (the knight doesn't move that way!)
And here's a video of a caretaker team member interviewing a villager. It's in Tagalog, so ask your parents to translate, 'cause I sure as heck don't know what she's saying:
If the land is needed for development, then the landowner will kick out the squatters; this is why, at least in Manila, most squatter colonies are located near landfills, where no one wants to live or develop. The squatters find that opportunity in the cities is not as plentiful or as profitable as they thought, especially if they lack specialized skills or an advanced degree, so they turn to scavenging the nearby landfill or engaging in illicit activities. And because they are living where they are illegally, they are outside the sphere of government protection, which consequently means they are at the mercy of syndicates, i.e. organized crime, who use brute force to control the squatter colony's access to illegally-tapped power and water lines, meaning they can extort the squatters for prices double what other residents pay. The syndicates also control the sale of drugs, which squatters are more likely to use in order to escape their daily doldrums.
The economic cycle of poverty is clearly illustrated by these anecdotes: squatters are not making much money; they have a higher cost of living because they are extorted by syndicates; and they're abusing drugs, which decreases motivation and hence productivity. But psychologically, what is happening? Squatters are spit upon by Philippine society; they are the outcasts, the spurned, the forgotten. No one wants to touch them; they are modern-day lepers.
But that's where GK comes in, and this is the most difficult part to explain about the organization. GK focuses on squatter colonies and it addresses the economic aspects of Philippine poverty; its shelter and productivity programs enable squatters to buy back their land and develop specialized skills in order to make money. Yet it is the psychological, even spiritual, aspect, that is what makes GK special, and what most people don't see. The work of GK is to restore dignity to the poor; the idea is that once the impoverished can believe in themselves, then they will want to own their own home, get a better job, and kick off drugs.
According to University of the Philippines studies, the average income in GK villages has actually decreased because the men are busy building houses or engaged in legal activities that pay less than illegal ones; nonetheless, happiness in the village and a positive outlook for the future has increased.
Today (or last week--I'm really behind in my blog posts), I visited Citigroup Village in Malacanyang Dulo (yes Citigroup Village--like PBA teams, villages are named after their corporate sponsors). This is what the entire village used to look like:
Most of it still looks like that. The roads are unpaved; there's a lot of trash; and there's even more flies. The smell is terrible; a couple of people were urinating in the street. And children are busy sweeping rubble:
Now here's how the village is starting to look:
This part, although a small part, is a lot cleaner and brighter. Here's how the pre-school looks:
The people sitting there are part of the caretaker team. Every GK village needs a group of local volunteers to help implement the programs and make the transition from a slum to a community. It also ties into GK's philosophy of dignity restoration; these volunteers are not afraid to reach out and touch their neighbor, leper or not.
Most volunteers tend to come from an organization called Couples for Christ, which serves the volunteer backbone for GK. I'll get into GK and religion in a later post.
Here are the villagers hard at work:
Here's me trying to learn what I can:
On the left is Jerick. He's a recent graduate of Ateneo University who works fulltime in the GK National Office, and he's in charge of evaluating the progress of GK villages in southern Manila. Many people in the office are young.
Of course I make time to play with the kids: (the knight doesn't move that way!)
And here's a video of a caretaker team member interviewing a villager. It's in Tagalog, so ask your parents to translate, 'cause I sure as heck don't know what she's saying:
I know my explanations are not very scientific or precise right now; the topic is too broad and GK is too intricate to explain in one or several blog posts (which is why I'm writing a paper on the subject). The only real way to understand it all is to come to the Philippines and do a GK tour--so visit!
Thursday, June 14, 2007
Enter Gawad Kalinga
I finally met with Gawad Kalinga (GK) today (Wednesday, June 13th). It took a while to find the place, and Karl, his tito, and I got lost a few times. Once we got there we had to wait a few hours for the person we were supposed to meet. But it was totally worth it, and I'm very excited to be working for them.
Gawad Kalinga is a poverty alleviation NGO (non-governmental organization) that helps the poor re-discover their self-worth and dignity through providing shelter, education, and healthcare with the aid of corporate and government sponsors. GK believes that poverty is behavioral, not economic. This is a holistic, psychological approach that makes the organizations different from other NGOs I've encountered. It is also a recipe for real social change in the Philippines. GK is not so much an organization as it is a movement.
The first person we met there was Bai. I want to interview her later, but from brief conversations with her, I learned that, before joining GK, she was a commander of one of the Muslim rebel groups in southern Mindanao. Her father was one of its founders. But after seeing the good work GK was doing in the south, particularly its ability to end fighting between Christian and Muslim families who had been killing each other for generations, she decided to join GK. I'm sure there's more to the story, but I just wanted to offer this tidbit as the tip of the iceberg of dramatic and life-changing stories behind the people who work for GK.
The next person we met was no other than--O'Hagan! O’Hagan was part of my Spring Break group who traveled to the Philippines to work with GK. During that trip, we met with Secretary Alvarez, the Director of Culture and Arts, and speaking with her changed O’Hagan’s life. O’Hagan is very involved with theater at Yale, but she’s also interested in politics, particularly how cultural movements impact national politics, and Secretary Alvarez spoke exactly to that. After our trip, O’Hagan planned to return to thePhilippines
After a couple hours of waiting, Karl and I finally met Jaja, who is supervising me. She's very nice and extremely helpful. I explained to her what I want to do for GK: study the organization, evaluate its work, and then write a senior paper on it. She immediately introduced me to the Executive Director of the GK National Office, Tito Luis. The two of them explained to me the programs that GK provides for the poor.
When GK goes into an impoverished community, it offers one program before any others: Kapitbahayan, i.e. Community Association. Before GK builds any houses or provides any services, it wants the community to end any fighting, establish rules its members--also known as beneficiaries--will live by, and come together as one. All the houses and money in the world will be useless if the community cannot cooperate. Its members are building each other's houses and living beside one another as neighbors, but the community needs to realize that it is rising out of poverty together or not at all. More importantly, though, community organization is the first step in giving the poor a sense of ownership, and consequently self-worth and dignity. This is all part of a philosophy called "values formation;" it's not so much the materials and services that GK provides, but an opportunity to change how one thinks and thereby change how one lives. Again, the underlying belief of GK is that poverty is behavioral, not economic.
After community association, GK typically follows up with shelter, the actual house-building part of GK, but there's more to it than that. GK employs a concept of "sweat equity;" members are entitled to a house once they have put in enough hours helping the community, i.e. building someone else's house or teaching the community's children.
The programs that follow depend on the needs of the community. Usually, education is next. More-educated community members have the opportunity to teach schoolchildren for their sweat equity. Other programs that GK offers include healthcare, i.e. providing basic health services, and productivity, i.e. helping beneficiaries develop specialized skills and gain better employment.
There's a lot more to GK's programs, and to the organization itself; like Bai's story, this is just the tip of the iceberg. But there's more to come, and honestly, as of the time of this writing, I'm behind in my blog posts (yikes!) but here some pictures:
The GK top brass: the guy with the white hair is Tito Tony Meloto, founder of GK and a very inspirational figure.
We found O'Hagan!
There's a baby room at the GK office (awww):
Gawad Kalinga is a poverty alleviation NGO (non-governmental organization) that helps the poor re-discover their self-worth and dignity through providing shelter, education, and healthcare with the aid of corporate and government sponsors. GK believes that poverty is behavioral, not economic. This is a holistic, psychological approach that makes the organizations different from other NGOs I've encountered. It is also a recipe for real social change in the Philippines. GK is not so much an organization as it is a movement.
The first person we met there was Bai. I want to interview her later, but from brief conversations with her, I learned that, before joining GK, she was a commander of one of the Muslim rebel groups in southern Mindanao. Her father was one of its founders. But after seeing the good work GK was doing in the south, particularly its ability to end fighting between Christian and Muslim families who had been killing each other for generations, she decided to join GK. I'm sure there's more to the story, but I just wanted to offer this tidbit as the tip of the iceberg of dramatic and life-changing stories behind the people who work for GK.
The next person we met was no other than--O'Hagan! O’Hagan was part of my Spring Break group who traveled to the Philippines to work with GK. During that trip, we met with Secretary Alvarez, the Director of Culture and Arts, and speaking with her changed O’Hagan’s life. O’Hagan is very involved with theater at Yale, but she’s also interested in politics, particularly how cultural movements impact national politics, and Secretary Alvarez spoke exactly to that. After our trip, O’Hagan planned to return to the
After a couple hours of waiting, Karl and I finally met Jaja, who is supervising me. She's very nice and extremely helpful. I explained to her what I want to do for GK: study the organization, evaluate its work, and then write a senior paper on it. She immediately introduced me to the Executive Director of the GK National Office, Tito Luis. The two of them explained to me the programs that GK provides for the poor.
When GK goes into an impoverished community, it offers one program before any others: Kapitbahayan, i.e. Community Association. Before GK builds any houses or provides any services, it wants the community to end any fighting, establish rules its members--also known as beneficiaries--will live by, and come together as one. All the houses and money in the world will be useless if the community cannot cooperate. Its members are building each other's houses and living beside one another as neighbors, but the community needs to realize that it is rising out of poverty together or not at all. More importantly, though, community organization is the first step in giving the poor a sense of ownership, and consequently self-worth and dignity. This is all part of a philosophy called "values formation;" it's not so much the materials and services that GK provides, but an opportunity to change how one thinks and thereby change how one lives. Again, the underlying belief of GK is that poverty is behavioral, not economic.
After community association, GK typically follows up with shelter, the actual house-building part of GK, but there's more to it than that. GK employs a concept of "sweat equity;" members are entitled to a house once they have put in enough hours helping the community, i.e. building someone else's house or teaching the community's children.
The programs that follow depend on the needs of the community. Usually, education is next. More-educated community members have the opportunity to teach schoolchildren for their sweat equity. Other programs that GK offers include healthcare, i.e. providing basic health services, and productivity, i.e. helping beneficiaries develop specialized skills and gain better employment.
There's a lot more to GK's programs, and to the organization itself; like Bai's story, this is just the tip of the iceberg. But there's more to come, and honestly, as of the time of this writing, I'm behind in my blog posts (yikes!) but here some pictures:
The GK top brass: the guy with the white hair is Tito Tony Meloto, founder of GK and a very inspirational figure.
We found O'Hagan!
There's a baby room at the GK office (awww):
Happy Philippine Independence Day!
Oddly enough, there was really not much happening. I was expecting to see parades down the streets of Manila and fireworks going off illegally in the gutter--but no. Filipinos were going around their business as usual. All Karl, Mick-Mick, and I could find was an army band playing and this fireworks show:
According to Karl's lolo (grandfather), we had missed the celebrations by not going out until later at night. Karl's lolo was a soldier in the American army following WWII and then the Philippine army for 28 years afterwards, and that morning, he marched as part of the independence day parade.
Philippine Independence Day (Araw ng Kasarinlan) has an interesting story behind it. The Philippines declared independence from Spain following the Spanish-American War on June 12th, 1898. US occupation followed, and the Philippines would not be recognized as officially independent until 1946; however, the US would only recognize Philippine independence on July 4th. Independence was thenceforth observed on this date until 1962, when the Philippine government switched back to June 12th. (Source: Wikipedia - Independence Day (Philippines))
Sunday, June 10, 2007
Floods, God, Providence
Filipino weather is bizarre. Yesterday, Karl, Tita Lydda, and I went to the noon mass and it was pouring outside:
Yet this did not seem to faze anyone. Kids were playing basketball despite huge puddles in the middle of their courts, shooting baskets against the wind. People were biking despite six inch high waters:
Mass took an hour and a half. It was especially interesting for me; my family's Catholic and Karl's family is Born Again. The name of their church is Christ Commission Fellowship. This was my first time attending a non-Catholic mass.
The differences in how the masses are designed are pretty clear. I'm no theologian and I've forgotten everything they taught me in Sunday school and apologetics classes, but I view the Catholic mass in four parts: 1st reading, 2nd reading, the homaly (a ten minute sermon), and the Eucharist (eating the bread and wine, or rather, in the Catholic tradition, eating the actual body and blood of Christ--see "transubstantiation"). The congregation sings at the beginning, in-between all the parts, and at the end.
The Christ Commission Fellowship mass, by contrast, seems to comprise only the sermon. Instead of a 1st and 2nd reading, the pastor works Scripture into an hour long sermon, which he appears to draw from the verses that support his argument, and there's no Eucharist to follow. The music is certainly different; the Congregation sings before and after the sermon, and the music is much more soulful than anything I've heard at a Catholic mass, powered by a full band and not just an organ or piano, and--this is a huge difference--the Congregation actually sings. Okay, Catholics sing, too, and our music is pretty but reserved.
The pastor spoke on God's unconditional love, i.e. sola fide, or salvation through faith alone. This is a huge difference between this church and the Catholic tradition, which preaches salvation through faith paired with good works. But in my opinion, this difference is actually semantic; although the "ten word phrase" describing each of these positions--sola fide vs. faith and good works--implies a huge difference, both this Born Again pastor and my Roman Catholic priest made the exact same argument in their sermons. They both argued that good works are an illustration of true faith. Theologically, the assumptions underlying these arguments are, of course, different, and both traditions argue different approaches to salvation. But operationally, they are both saying the exact same thing: do both.
The most valuable of the sermon came when the pastor invited up a middle-aged woman to make a confession to her fellow congregates. She gave a genuine and painful account of her life story. Growing up, this woman felt driven to perfection and success in order to please her parents, scoring highest honors in high school and college and becoming a high-powered lawyer. Yet later in life, she learned that her mother had tried to abort her, triggering a crisis of faith and leading her to this chuch. But her confession was that recently she realized that had been taking out her anger on her son, also driving him to hollow perfection. She came to this realization when she asked, "Mom, is it okay if I get second place?"
For me, the value behind this experience is not in understanding theological differences or finding alternatives to Catholicism. Rather, this experience brought me closer to my cousin, his family, and his community. And it was good.
After mass, we discovered that it was absolutely beautiful outside. Except for some fallen branches and trees, it was like nothing had happened. People were still using their umbrellas, though, but this time protecting themselves from the sun instead of the rain.
My morning, in short: floods, God, providence. Coincidence? Hmmm...
Oh and this is for my mom:
Yet this did not seem to faze anyone. Kids were playing basketball despite huge puddles in the middle of their courts, shooting baskets against the wind. People were biking despite six inch high waters:Mass took an hour and a half. It was especially interesting for me; my family's Catholic and Karl's family is Born Again. The name of their church is Christ Commission Fellowship. This was my first time attending a non-Catholic mass.
The differences in how the masses are designed are pretty clear. I'm no theologian and I've forgotten everything they taught me in Sunday school and apologetics classes, but I view the Catholic mass in four parts: 1st reading, 2nd reading, the homaly (a ten minute sermon), and the Eucharist (eating the bread and wine, or rather, in the Catholic tradition, eating the actual body and blood of Christ--see "transubstantiation"). The congregation sings at the beginning, in-between all the parts, and at the end.
The Christ Commission Fellowship mass, by contrast, seems to comprise only the sermon. Instead of a 1st and 2nd reading, the pastor works Scripture into an hour long sermon, which he appears to draw from the verses that support his argument, and there's no Eucharist to follow. The music is certainly different; the Congregation sings before and after the sermon, and the music is much more soulful than anything I've heard at a Catholic mass, powered by a full band and not just an organ or piano, and--this is a huge difference--the Congregation actually sings. Okay, Catholics sing, too, and our music is pretty but reserved.
The pastor spoke on God's unconditional love, i.e. sola fide, or salvation through faith alone. This is a huge difference between this church and the Catholic tradition, which preaches salvation through faith paired with good works. But in my opinion, this difference is actually semantic; although the "ten word phrase" describing each of these positions--sola fide vs. faith and good works--implies a huge difference, both this Born Again pastor and my Roman Catholic priest made the exact same argument in their sermons. They both argued that good works are an illustration of true faith. Theologically, the assumptions underlying these arguments are, of course, different, and both traditions argue different approaches to salvation. But operationally, they are both saying the exact same thing: do both.
The most valuable of the sermon came when the pastor invited up a middle-aged woman to make a confession to her fellow congregates. She gave a genuine and painful account of her life story. Growing up, this woman felt driven to perfection and success in order to please her parents, scoring highest honors in high school and college and becoming a high-powered lawyer. Yet later in life, she learned that her mother had tried to abort her, triggering a crisis of faith and leading her to this chuch. But her confession was that recently she realized that had been taking out her anger on her son, also driving him to hollow perfection. She came to this realization when she asked, "Mom, is it okay if I get second place?"
For me, the value behind this experience is not in understanding theological differences or finding alternatives to Catholicism. Rather, this experience brought me closer to my cousin, his family, and his community. And it was good.
After mass, we discovered that it was absolutely beautiful outside. Except for some fallen branches and trees, it was like nothing had happened. People were still using their umbrellas, though, but this time protecting themselves from the sun instead of the rain.
My morning, in short: floods, God, providence. Coincidence? Hmmm...Oh and this is for my mom:
To the Beetlecave Batman!
I made a friend today. Meet June:
She's Karl's best friend and she's looking to buy a Volkswagen Beetle, so today we shopped around and took pics, hence why she's posing like an import model (I suggested the idea, of course). In the words of a now imprisoned heiress:
Oops! I meant:
I went with her and Karl to visit his Tito (uncle), the President of the Volkswagen Association of the Philippines, who took us to the "Beetlecave."
In the States, Beetles are seen as less than impressive--Americans prefer their SUVs, gas prices and all--so I went with them not expecting much. But my views were completely overhauled. Those things are FAST and POWERFUL.
The Volkswagen Association of the Philippines is a budding organization and its members love their Beetles. The ones we checked out were stock Beetles from the 60s, some of them imported from Brazil.
She's Karl's best friend and she's looking to buy a Volkswagen Beetle, so today we shopped around and took pics, hence why she's posing like an import model (I suggested the idea, of course). In the words of a now imprisoned heiress:
Oops! I meant:
I went with her and Karl to visit his Tito (uncle), the President of the Volkswagen Association of the Philippines, who took us to the "Beetlecave."
In the States, Beetles are seen as less than impressive--Americans prefer their SUVs, gas prices and all--so I went with them not expecting much. But my views were completely overhauled. Those things are FAST and POWERFUL.The Volkswagen Association of the Philippines is a budding organization and its members love their Beetles. The ones we checked out were stock Beetles from the 60s, some of them imported from Brazil.
As a bonus, here's Karl being cute:
And me being...me:
Friday, June 8, 2007
Billiards at the Mall and Me being Stupid
Karl, Mick-Mick, and I played billiards at the mall. None of us are particularly good, but Filipinos are amongst the best players in the world; see Efren Bata Reyes and Django Bustamante.
We played at an arcade in the middle of the mall, not a pool hall, so no one there was competitive or hardcore.
Apparently, there are three big “B’s” in Filipino sports culture: basketball, billiards, and boxing. Two down; one to go.
And this is just me being stupid:
Filipinos and their Karaoke
Last night Tita Lydda had a small birthday party. She invited co-workers, friends, and family. And we all had a good time practicing the national pastime of the Philippines: singing karaoke.
Filipinos love to karaoke (also called videoke or KTV, karaoke TV). Whether at a bar, in a private room, or in the comfort of their own home, Filipinos will karaoke anytime, anyplace, anywhere. Karaoke is a very social activity and it’s perfect for parties; you can’t be self-conscious performing in front of friends and family, which means you have to let go of your inhibitions (and which also explains why karaoke and alcohol go hand in hand). Those who can sing have a chance to show off; those who can’t have fun screwing around; those who aren’t singing laugh at those who are. Everyone has a good time.
Although karaoke is a Japanese invention, Filipinos have taken it to a whole other level; karaoke is an essential part of Filipino culture. Every Filipino family, either here or in the States, owns a karaoke machine. Years ago, home karaoke was done using VHS tapes, then laserdiscs (remember those?!), and eventually DVDs. But now the most popular home karaoke machine is the Extreme Sing Sing Magic Mic, endorsed by Filipino boxer Manny Pakiaow, which is a microphone that contains a chip with thousands of songs. All you have to do it plug it in, which makes it easy to use and thus popular.
I have several theories why karaoke is important to Filipinos. Firstly, many Filipinos speak and understand at least some level of English. So there are a lot of songs for Filipinos to choose from, in both English and Tagalog (even Chinese for you Chinoys out there), unlike other cultures. Secondly, Filipino culture as a whole just feels more open than other cultures. Filipinos seem less inhibited and more willing to put themselves out there and make fun of themselves. Although there are definitely Filipino and Catholic traditions in Filipino culture, those traditions don’t seem as strict, as regimented, or as formal as other traditions, i.e. Persian tarof.
As a point of comparison, most family parties in
Now, let me say I hate evaluating culture for many reasons, one of them being that no one and no family can really be pigeon-holed into such labels. But the point to even having the term “culture”—and the point relevant to this argument—is that commonalities do exist and they are interesting to identify. My point: for whatever reason, Filipinos sure like their karaoke.
Thursday, June 7, 2007
Ryan and Karl go to a PBA playoff game.
Gay men take off their clothes.
Hilarity does not ensue.
Yesterday I went to a Philippine Basketball Association (PBA) playoff game. It was a lot of fun, although by the end I was exhausted from sheer jet lag. PBA seems a lot faster and more dynamic than the NBA, although I have yet to see any recent NBA games live. There are fewer power moves in the PBA than the NBA, but that means more team ball, which I prefer.
The teams are named after their corporate sponsors, not cities or mascots; last night I saw San Miguel play Air 21 and Ginebra play Alaska Aces. That’s like Budweiser playing Nike.
In addition to each team's corporate sponsorship, the arena puts on a lot of ads and allows corporate mascots. The mascots are unfortunately and comically unimaginative. A painkiller company's mascot was a bottle of painkillers. The popular Extreme Sing Sing "magic mic" karaoke machine was represented by--you guessed it--a guy with a microphone for a head.
The teams are named after their corporate sponsors, not cities or mascots; last night I saw San Miguel play Air 21 and Ginebra play Alaska Aces. That’s like Budweiser playing Nike.
In addition to each team's corporate sponsorship, the arena puts on a lot of ads and allows corporate mascots. The mascots are unfortunately and comically unimaginative. A painkiller company's mascot was a bottle of painkillers. The popular Extreme Sing Sing "magic mic" karaoke machine was represented by--you guessed it--a guy with a microphone for a head.
There is also a fair share of diehard fans. One fat guy was screaming at Air 21 to win; I could hear him from across the arena. He would then start dancing with his big belly, which made the crowd go wild. But the most hardcore fans are the bakla, rows of gay and transvestite men sitting behind the basket cheering wildly and effeminately for their favorite players and teams.
While the fat guy was making an ass of himself, a cute girl wearing a yellow shirt sitting next to the him proceeded to jump out of her seat and start dancing and taking off her shirt and throwing her hair wildly and screaming at Air 21 to win as well. I remarked to Karl, "pare, she's cute; we should meet her after the game." He responded, "dude--that's not a girl." We walked by her after the game and indeed, she was a he, and my nutsack shriveled up. But can you blame me? It looked like he had nice boobs from across the arena.
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