Leaving the homeland

I saw the weirdest commercial in the movie theaters last week. Before the movie started, there was a commercial for a pawn shop. First, it started with a young couple arguing. The woman was pregnant, and crying while pointing to her belly occasionally. Next, someone is removing a gold bracelet from their wrist, and the bracelet is slowly passed over a large counter and behind a set of bars. In the last scene, the same couple is jovial and they have a new baby. I didn’t quite understand the commercial until I asked Pam why is there a commercial for a pawnshop. She explained that the gap between rich and poor is so large in the Philippines that some Filipinos have to resort to using pawnshops to raise enough money to deliver a newborn baby. My mouth dropped in disbelief and laughed when she first told me.

Later, I started to really think about the irony of the commercial; how I couldn’t relate desperate nature of the commercial, while everyone else in the theater could. Notwithstanding the commercial, I’m repeatedly reminded how lucky I did not grow up in the poverty of Philippines. For instance, I will never know what it is like to speak “in Pesos”. A number of times I have been discussing what something costs, and someone will say it costs thousands of pesos. Confused, I ask how many dollars. Then they laugh, and say, “O, this guy here speaks in dollars not pesos”. They kindly perform the conversion for me, and tell me that the item only costs only $20 or 1000 pesos.

Last Friday, I started my journey back to Manila. I stumbled off the volcano, Mt. Mayon, to the seaside town of Lucena 8 hours away. I stayed in Lucena where I visited Pam, a local I met at the resort a week before. She showed me around town. We caught Mission Impossible 3 at the movie theater, and went to a videoke bar. After meeting her family, they insisted I stay at their house. I barely knew them, but I would have offended them if I objected. I really didn’t want to be a burden. So, I stayed. I learned later there were only two rooms in the house, and family decided to give me the only room with A/C. I felt really guilty when all of them piled into a room together.

After Lucena, I went to Candelaria to stay with Gramdma who insists I call her Aunt. She feels young when I call her Aunt. During my stay in Candelaria, I met my uncle who is a local businessman, and city councilor. He earned his fortune as a fisherman, and promoting cockfighting. He was busy promoting another event when we met him. Though he could barely speak English, he smiled and invited us for dinner and movie at his house. As city councilor and successful businessman, I learned my uncle is surrounded by five bodyguards that protect him night and day. He says that there are a lot of desperate people in the Philippines willing to do anything for a little money. At his house, I chattered with his bodyguards (who happen to cousins of mine through matrimony), and a shotgun on my uncle’s lap. I felt really comfortable. On our way out, the bodyguards and my uncle swept the driveway and road for any intruders with their shotguns in their hands.

I’ve spent the last 3 days in Tiaong. In Tiaong, I spent a lot of time with kids half my age. I laughed as they danced and sang for me. They made me talk to their friends, and scare their enemies on the telephone. I also witnessed the lead up to the Mayflower festival that occurs at the end of the month. Children gather to sing and pray a series of prayers to Mary, the mother of Jesus Christ. After the prayers are recited, the children offer a flower to Mary, and throw a flurry of flowers in the air. This occurs every night until the end of month. At the end of month, there is a large festival in honor of Mary.

I’m in Manila for one night, then I’m off to Singapore tomorrow. Singapore will be a stark contrast to the Philippines. There will be no pissing on the street here. Here, it is common to see Filipino men piss almost anywhere – on the wall, a bush, or someone’s tire. Littering in Singapore will probably land me in jail, or worse maybe the death penalty.