Home from Home

Last year I went to America over the holidays, for two weeks, and it put a lot of my service in perspective. It reminded me what I had left behind, what I had gained, and it pushed me over the tipping point when I decided to extend my service for a third year. As part of my third year extension I had a required one month special leave to America, and chose November as September, October, and December were all looking busy for me when I made the decision.

Like last time, my month in America offered a lot of perspective, but this time the experience was far more testing, the lessons more humbling.

No Shortcut to the Top

My generation is getting infamous for expecting an above average intelligence, and clever ideas will get us to the top of our careers before we’re thirty. I’d be lying if I said I didn’t want it as well, but as I looked at potential work or grad school for after my service, I was reminded again that my time in the Peace Corps is what will get me to the next step in life, it isn’t a magic ladder to the top of the mountain.

Luckily I’m now qualified for much of the work I had looked at after I got my undergraduate before I settled on the Peace Corps, even some jobs I hadn’t looked at before The public sector looks particularly appealing with the non-eligibility status I can get, decent pay, good benefits. The non-profit however is a mixed bag, with some opportunities out there, but many large groups such as the Red Cross, UNICEF, and USAID, still looking for a Master’s degree, even more work experience, and/or specialized technical skills for even a starting job. There’s also the private sector, but that’ll take a lot more research, as there aren’t really any databases on what private companies do public outreach, and what careers there are in that.

It’s definitely a better picture than before I signed up, but it’s still competitive, unemployment is still high, and as much as I’d like to think I’m the greatest thing since before and after sliced bread, I still have a long way to go, just like everyone else.

There are certain arguments I’ve come to loathe when it comes to education. “We’re giving you the skills that employers are looking for”, “We have an extensive alumni network”, “Prestige”, these lines are full of crap. They offer an illusion of big things to come without actually promising anything. I looked at several schools at a grad fair which was conveniently nearby, and honestly most the schools did not instill in me a lot of confidence. I’m looking for a Public Administration or similar degree, something to round off my skills with some management, analysis, and a better understanding of economics, and though I believe these schools can teach me those things and more, the cost is absurd. At this point in my life I feel like I don’t want to burden myself with debt the same way I did with my undergraduate degree.

With a Peace Corps scholarship, I can go to a state school with the reputed 29^th best Public Admin program (don’t ask me who determined that or how, I don’t know) for a total of about 12k (with potential for even more scholarships) over two years, a program that is accommodating to people with a full-time job. Most of the “top” schools will cost me eight to ten times that much, and though there may be prestige, alumni, and a higher quality (though I question how much gap there really is), I’m not convinced that it’s worth that much more. There are still a few schools who may be able to promise more for its cost, which I’ll be following up on, and we’ll see what pans out if I end up pursuing grad school.

Accepting my Blessings

One of the challenges in Peace Corps is being faced with poverty, sometimes crippling poverty, and coming to terms with how well we’ve had it in our own life. We live pretty humbly in Peace Corps making a comparable wage to our coworkers, but we still make more than many people in the community, and many of our coworkers with similar pay have to support a family, and have to live and save on that salary for a lifetime, not just a couple or a few years. We have a job, we’re getting experience, we get medical covered, we have a lot of freedom in our work, it’s a pretty darn decent job to have. Many of us (like me) came into service expecting to live with “the people”, and though we do to a large extent, we discover how blessed we truly are, and how many don’t get that chance.

However, the exact same thing exists in America. We may have more wealth as a country, more infrastructure, a safety net, but more than one member of my family and friends too are struggling with a job they don’t like, unemployment, debt, or all of life’s other problems. Yes, America also has “first world problems”, people complaining because they have to wait five minutes in line, or their multi-hundred dollar smartphone is already a year old, but it made me take a step back and see that in many ways my life in a developing country is richer, and better off than some people I know back home.

It’s a double edged sword. Though I wouldn’t trade what I have away, when I see people kinder, more talented, or just someone I love in a tough spot, it makes me question my own deserving. The best I can do for now is make the most of all my luck, and to do what I can when it comes to others.

Haiyan

Typhoon Yolanda, more commonly known as Haiyan in the international community, devastated the central region of the Philippines. My site, Dupax, in far, far north of where the storm hit, and  Manila where the Peace Corps office was also spared, but many volunteers were in the affected areas. All the volunteers were accounted for, and evacuated after the storm, some from sites torn apart, others from towns that though mostly spared, suffered its regional effects such as losing power, potentially for months. I chose November as my time away during the summer, the irony that I was away when this happened isn’t lost on me.

As the Volunteer Leader, I wanted to be there in Manila to help support the dozens who were struggling by the traumatic experience, by the uncertainty of what would happen next, and the frustration that there was little they could do to help. I also wanted to support our staff, some of whom had family where the typhoon hit, and who worked overtime ensuring everyone’s safety, security, and well being, but the most I could do was log onto facebook and chat with volunteers, and send out emails.

Volunteers often have to deal with tragedies of varying levels, a child who drops out of school, a girl sent to a center because she was abused, and occasionally even someone in the community dying. Since I’ve been in Dupax we lost two LGU workers, one a man in his early thirties with heart complications, and a daycare worker, a man younger than me, lost to a fatal motorcycle accident. What set Haiyan apart though from the experiences I’ve had, as well as other volunteers I’ve known the past two-and-half-years, was the sheer magnitude of it. How many volunteers it affected all at once, and how much damage it did the communities that had become their home.

The Peace Corps Philippines is not a massive disaster relief organization, in spite of how much we wished it was in the aftermath of the storm. We send one, or a few, volunteers to communities to work alongside existing organizations with limited resources. Our niche is that you’d be hard pressed to find an organization that grows deeper and more personal relationships to a community, but one of our disadvantages is our limited resources and budget. With something that has displaced over a million people, there’s a reason it was the US military that came with a carrier and helicopters, and not our organization leading the charge. 

There’s a lot to do still, though. We have to find new sites for those volunteers who can’t return, to support all the volunteers directly or indirectly affected, and to look forward into the next year of volunteers coming next July, so there is a lot for me to do when I get back, but it would have been nice to be there this past month. Another humble sandwich to chew on.

All the Beautiful Things

Despite all these sobering, annoying, and even terrible things going on, as I look back on these past few weeks, I’m glad I’ve been here, and I do feel better off than when I came. If nothing else, all the foods I’ve missed, a comfortable bed, and a cup of protein powder after every workout has physically made me feel great. Even mentally, I find myself more determined in part due to the new and old realizations I’ve faced, but also from all the beautiful moments.

My parents’ border collie is one the most ridiculous, needy, envious animals I’ve met, a dog who will put her paw on your hand if you sit next to her, just to have some contact, a dog that will lean her head on your shoulder in an act of empathy, only to tilt it up suddenly and try to give you a lick on the lips. We’ve wrestled, chased, played soccer, and just sat with each other.

At my grandparents I spent a morning out on their back deck doing some yoga stretches, as a few score hummingbirds floated about me, drinking from all the feeders in their backyard. It was a moment so relaxing, that my worries had faded away.

I visited a few friends who live in Santa Monica, and we walked around Venice Beach, stopping by a bar on top of a hotel, overlooking the beach, and the Pacific. We sat up their drinking red wine as the sun was high in sky, and I felt at peace, soaking in all those great things at once.

I got last in my family game of Trivial Pursuit on Thanksgiving, but I did better than usual. I even lived up to my usual antics at family gaming, laughing so hard that I had to excuse myself from the room so I could breathe again.

 

The lessons were hard, but the moments have been wonderful. Although I can’t say I feel completely refreshed, I do feel eager to get back and into the swing of things.

I’ll hopefully have my next post up late December/early January. ‘Til then.     

Dog

Another couple months have passed, more life lessons, more challenges, more rewards. Interestingly enough, I can’t actually talk about some of them. Part of my responsibilities as the Peace Corps Volunteer Leader is volunteer support, listening to other volunteers talk about what’s happening at their site, and offering an ear, and sometimes advice. However, I’m also obliged to keep peoples’ trust, and to not share that kind of information. So one thing you can assume is that it’s part of what I’ll be doing over the next year, but I’ll leaving it out of this blog, and keeping it close to the chest.

Besides that I’ve went to a USAID event with several of the more prominent environmental groups in the Philippines. I helped facilitate the Mid-Service Training of Batch 271, the group of volunteers that started a year after me. I’ve been learning a few more of the ins and outs, and what decisions are made in-country, and which ones come from Washington D.C. and why.

As for site, nothing new to report really. Only being in Dupax half my time has been a challenge to get things done. The biggest thing is still to find a person or persons to pass on leadership to. Since the youth government, the SK, is being discontinued in the entire country due to reports of corruption and ineffectiveness, it actually opens up more possibilities for me since there will no longer be the organization people normally passed all youth-related responsibility to.

A Tale about a Dog

On October 28^th, one of the longest days of my life, both figuratively and literally, I attempted to take a dog I had never met before from Manila to the U.S.

During service, many volunteers decide to get a pet. Luckily for me, my neighbors have a dog and cat I can play with, so I never felt the need. My friend Austin however did, saving one kitten off the streets of Cabanatuan City, and a street dog when she was a puppy, from a family who was giving them away. He finished his service last August, but only the cat came with him. During the summer months it costs several times more to travel with a dog because the plane has to control the temperature in the cargo, so trying to save between $500-$700, Austin left his dog with another volunteer named Christina, and convinced me to me the one to travel with her in October when I left for my trip to America. Everything was organized and planned out, I’d stop in Portland on the way to Denver and drop her off, but I wouldn’t be writing about this if everything had gone smoothly.

The first issue was that the airline didn’t want to release an animal unless a layover was at least 24 hours. So talking to Lani, our brilliant logistical goddess of the Peace Corps office in Manila, plus a fee for changing the flight, and we were set again. I’d just stay overnight, and make the rest of the trip in the morning. Then the next issue came, when I tried to call ahead for the dog, I was informed that they couldn’t take her because the airplane couldn’t control the temperature in the cargo. Phooey. Turning to Lani again, she tried a more roundabout approach and after a week of waiting anxiously, she got the approval just days before the flight.

So October 28^th rolled around, and I woke up at 3:20AM, grabbed my suitcase, messenger bag, small backpack full of the dog’s stuff, and a large carrier case with wheels, and walked outside the pension where I caught a taxi in short time (Manila’s awake all hours of the day). The taxi driver and I stopped by the animal care place that Christina had dropped the dog off. I was hit by a thick wave of animal smells, the likes of which I haven’t felt in a long, long time. Trying not to gag, it took a couple minutes to explain to the lady what I was trying to do, she seemed pretty tired, then I had to wait until 15-20 minutes as first we waited for the “assistant” to come, and then for this assistant to find the dog, come back for her leash, and then get her. She managed to slip out once from the carrier as we were trying to get her in, but luckily she wasn’t the fastest or strongest dog. We were on the road again, headed for the airport.

Suffice to say, she wasn’t happy, and was whining and barking most of the way. I put my hand against the holes of the carrier case, and it seemed to calm her down a bit as she licked my fingers. It was good she was such a trusting dog, and though the drive felt long despite no traffic, she was calmed down before we got there.

I took the dog to check in, my heart a knot wondering if everything would be okay. The lady at the desk seemed to know what she was doing, and we got through the steps, showing her the paperwork, paying the cost of the dog’s transportation ($200), and getting all the right stickers put on the carrier. I had to set up her food, water, and remove the wheels, which were simple enough. The one hiccup came when the internet went down just as they were checking the last thing, to make sure the weather was fine. Two years of living in the Philippines has conditioned me to see it as a normal occurrence, and so I waited patiently, with this stranger of a dog, in the middle of the airport. I didn’t dare ask what would happen if the weather was bad, and after another twenty minutes waiting the wifi was fixed, the weather was smooth, and I left for security, and the dog headed to the plane with the rest of the luggage.

The flight went well, and I arrived at the Tokyo-Narita Airport. The pilot announced for me to meet with an agent out at the terminal. I was met by a very rushed and flustered Japanese man looking for the dog’s documents, which I showed him. He took one copy and was off, leaving me to hang out in the airport for a few hours. I tried to take in the fanciness of the place, with a place to get massages (no, I didn’t get one), had some sushi from the convenience store, and got online to post that I was one leg away from getting to Portland. Then they called me up to the desk in front of the gate.

The lady told me that unfortunately the couldn’t take the dog, that the cargo hold didn’t have a temperature control. It was then that the universe came together and made crystal clear, heart pounding sense. That was why they originally rejected the dog when I called ahead. Some planes can’t accept pets for safety reasons and Tokyo to Portland was one of them. I had enough in my wallet for one more meal, I had no card to draw money from an ATM, the dog only had enough food and water for the rest of the trip, I didn’t even have a phone that could call anyone. In a world that’s relying more on more with communication technologies, I was finding myself without.

The lady told me they could get me to Detroit or Minneapolis, and that’s when I explained that I had to get to Portland, that it wasn’t my dog but my friend’s and I was dropped her off. She had an “Oh sh-“ look on her face, but only for a moment, and some quick thinking she offered a plane ride to Seattle, the nearest airport that could take the dog, and a flight she said was usually close to the airport. I accepted the changes, went to the gate… to see about twenty people were left in line boarding. Hopping on my computer and thanking the stars the airport had wifi, I sent Austin a very rushed message telling him plans had changed, I was going to Seattle, gave him the flight number, and arrival time.

I got on board and they gave me this nice sticker with a dog, cat, and bird, telling me that take care of my animal. Sometimes it’s the little things.

Luckily from Austin’s end he figured out that I’d be stopping in Seattle as opposed to his first guess that I was having a second layover. I had though he lived about halfway between the airport, but turned out it was a two-and-a-half hour drive for him. Regardless, I arrived in Seattle, got through immigration (and a random check on me), and headed to the information desk of Delta where I’d get the dog. I only had to wait for a few minutes for the dog to come out. Austin however, wasn’t there. Once again I thank the universe for wifi, I hopped on my laptop and checked to see if he had gotten the message, or if he was in Portland. Luckily he was on his way and had his smart phone on him. We talked back and forth, and he showed up in half an hour.

We arrived at his house about noon… October 28^th. The International Dateline is an interesting thing.

Although I had to return to the Seattle airport early the next day, the rest of my trip to Denver was thankfully uneventful. It was an enlightening experience and really I feel that I did the least of everyone involved from Austin who took care of the dog and organized everything, to Christina who took care of the dog for two months, to Lani who worked her logistical magic, to the Delta people who had to mve the dog from flight to flight, as well as make last minute changes. My job? I felt my job was not panicking when each hurdle came, a task I think I did well.

The dog’s name is Jezebel.

 

 Here's me with a very happy Jezebel now that she's no longer in her carrier, and a very happy me that it all worked out.

 

Not quite as happy at this guy now that he has his dog though.

 

 

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Next time I'll be talking a bit about my special month leave, part of the package of extending a year.