611/11
This was a busy day hiking around inspecting the progress on a huge
Buhi water system. After looking at the trenches and pipes, then met with the town councils. Our first stop at 7:00 was a village 40 minutes away across the lake by boat. To dock the boat they just run the front up into the mud bank. Getting off the boat is always a challenge. The young people just jump off the front, it’s about a 3 foot drop, and about another two feet to clear the water. My fat old lady body and bones would not have cleared the water or taken the jolt upon landing. If the little Filipinos tried to catch me, it would kill them. This time, at my suggestion, two men got on the shore and each grabbed an arm and on the count of three I jumped as they pulled me forward. It 
worked and I was flung ashore like a slingshot. Everyone was surprised and commented that they never thought anyone could get off the boat like that. I was super cautious because the last we visited this barangay I fell twice so I was extremely careful, watching each step. Again this time it had just rained and was again muddy and very slippery. I made it safely through the entire village, the meeting afterwards, and the ribbon cutting. However it was not to be, as we were walking back to through the fields I slipped in the mud and fell face first into a rice patty. 
I was covered in mud all up the left side of my body. To make matters worse that was our first village. I spent the next 8 hours visiting all the different villages, meeting the officials covered in mud, which eventually dried to just dirt. Filipinos are very polite and pretended not to notice my situation. However as I walked out of one barangay hall (village center) a little boy commented in English, “You are dirty”. Each delegation would insist we have our picture taken with them. So in addition to the embarrassment of meeting these all these people so messed up, there are dozens of photographic images of the, “dirty old white woman”. The Filipino culture insists that you feed your guests so at every stop we were given something to eat and drink. Because we were honored guests it was usually something nice. We had things like fire roasted bananas and sweet potatoes, delicious fresh pineapple, mango, papaya, all types of fruit
I don’t know the names of, wonderful steamed treats wrapped in banana leaves made of rice, or cassava, mixed with fresh coconut meat and juice. Each snack was accompanied by buko juice (young green coconut liquid) or a bottle of soda. After 6 hours of this I had to desperately use the restroom. Toward the end of the day I finally got up the nerve to ask if there was a “comfort room” handy. This request caused the ladies to scurry through the village to find a home with the appropriate facilities. I was too shy and embarrassed in my dirty state to walk through the village to the toilet. So I declined and suffered another few hours of
incredibly bumpy dirt roads and ever increasing bladder pressure. Finally I could stand it no longer. At our last stop I again made my request and was shown to a home with an indoor toilet. It was a water sealed squat contraption located in an open alcove in the kitchen. At that point it was a most beautiful and welcome sight to me. There was no privacy, I didn't care, but the family in deference to me vacated the house. Well it is all an adventure that I’m thankful to be able to experience. What other senior citizen has the opportunity to see and do all these different and interesting things
This was a busy day hiking around inspecting the progress on a huge
Buhi water system. After looking at the trenches and pipes, then met with the town councils. Our first stop at 7:00 was a village 40 minutes away across the lake by boat. To dock the boat they just run the front up into the mud bank. Getting off the boat is always a challenge. The young people just jump off the front, it’s about a 3 foot drop, and about another two feet to clear the water. My fat old lady body and bones would not have cleared the water or taken the jolt upon landing. If the little Filipinos tried to catch me, it would kill them. This time, at my suggestion, two men got on the shore and each grabbed an arm and on the count of three I jumped as they pulled me forward. It 
worked and I was flung ashore like a slingshot. Everyone was surprised and commented that they never thought anyone could get off the boat like that. I was super cautious because the last we visited this barangay I fell twice so I was extremely careful, watching each step. Again this time it had just rained and was again muddy and very slippery. I made it safely through the entire village, the meeting afterwards, and the ribbon cutting. However it was not to be, as we were walking back to through the fields I slipped in the mud and fell face first into a rice patty. 
I was covered in mud all up the left side of my body. To make matters worse that was our first village. I spent the next 8 hours visiting all the different villages, meeting the officials covered in mud, which eventually dried to just dirt. Filipinos are very polite and pretended not to notice my situation. However as I walked out of one barangay hall (village center) a little boy commented in English, “You are dirty”. Each delegation would insist we have our picture taken with them. So in addition to the embarrassment of meeting these all these people so messed up, there are dozens of photographic images of the, “dirty old white woman”. The Filipino culture insists that you feed your guests so at every stop we were given something to eat and drink. Because we were honored guests it was usually something nice. We had things like fire roasted bananas and sweet potatoes, delicious fresh pineapple, mango, papaya, all types of fruit
I don’t know the names of, wonderful steamed treats wrapped in banana leaves made of rice, or cassava, mixed with fresh coconut meat and juice. Each snack was accompanied by buko juice (young green coconut liquid) or a bottle of soda. After 6 hours of this I had to desperately use the restroom. Toward the end of the day I finally got up the nerve to ask if there was a “comfort room” handy. This request caused the ladies to scurry through the village to find a home with the appropriate facilities. I was too shy and embarrassed in my dirty state to walk through the village to the toilet. So I declined and suffered another few hours of
incredibly bumpy dirt roads and ever increasing bladder pressure. Finally I could stand it no longer. At our last stop I again made my request and was shown to a home with an indoor toilet. It was a water sealed squat contraption located in an open alcove in the kitchen. At that point it was a most beautiful and welcome sight to me. There was no privacy, I didn't care, but the family in deference to me vacated the house. Well it is all an adventure that I’m thankful to be able to experience. What other senior citizen has the opportunity to see and do all these different and interesting things
No comments:
Post a Comment