Travel

Learning the Way

| Chelsea

I’ve been in Casiguran for almost two months now but when my counterpart told me to finish up the tour of Casiguran’s Livelihood projects with our BFAR representative, while she attended to other business, my stomach dropped a little.

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Casiguran has a number of Alternative Livelihood Projects that have been funded by the Bureau of Fisheries and Aquatic Resources.  These projects are incredibly important in improving the quality of life for our fisherfolk, and helping them maintain financial security.  Alternative Livelihood opportunities allow people to learn new skills and diversify their income.  

Why must the fisheries sector diversify their income?

The Fishing industry is an extremely insecure industry.  Factors like climate change, population increase, and overfishing, among others, have caused a decrease in fish catch.  

Why don’t they just fish less?

Sounds easy right, just fish less.  This is much easier said than done.  Asking the fisherfolk to fish less is asking them to deprive their families of dinner and income.  But, when fishing grounds run dry, families also go hungry.

The beacon of light! Alternative livelihood projects!  These help reduce pressure on fish stocks and maintain financial security for the fisherfolk.  Our projects here include: a Municipal Tilapia Hatchery, a Post Harvest Facility enhancement project, and a Fisheries Products Value Adding Center.  These are all funded by BFAR and must be documented appropriately.  We had finished showing our BFAR representative, Gloria, the Municipal Hatchery when it was my turn to direct the tryke driver to our next destination, The Cawit Livelihood Center.

‘Cawit Barangay Hall po’ I say to the tryke driver.

We start down the road and I assume I’ve done enough.  Tryke drivers know Casiguran like the back of their hand, there’s no doubt he knows where a landmark like the Barangay Hall of Cawit is.

He passes the turn.  

‘Wait, wait!’ I raise my voice over the tryke’s motor, in english.  My Bicol proficiency is in no way reactive (yet) and it completely escapes me in times of urgency, ‘Cawit Barangay Hall!’

He stops the tryke and asks someone nearby ‘Hain an Cawit Barangay Hall?’

I think that I’m hearing him incorrectly; he doesn’t know where the Barangay Hall is?  Based on body language, and limited language skills, I piece together that he is definitely asking people for directions.  He doesn’t know where the Barangay Hall is, but I DO!  

‘I know, I know- er, aram ko, aram ko!’ He looks down at me like I’m a little bit crazy.  Granted, I probably look crazy, there are two Filipinos on the tryke but I’M the one trying to give directions.  I point behind me, ‘back that way.’ He turns around and heads towards the turn.

‘Tuo!’ I tell him to turn right.  He slowly takes the turn and slows again to ask someone.

‘It’s okay, aram ko, direcho!’ the woman from BFAR riding behind the driver is laughing now as I’m still trying to get the tryke driver to listen to me.  

‘Chelsea knows how to get there but the tryke driver does not!’ She is thoroughly entertained by the entire situation.

We continue, slowly, down the road and as we come up to another turn, still laughing Gloria asks ‘Which way Chelsea!’

‘Wala!’

For the first time in four months of living in the Philippines, I don’t feel like the visitor.  We turn left and pull in front of our destination. ‘Para, para po, right in here’

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These are the little moments we were told about during training.  Realizing you actually aren’t a giant stumbling two year old, and CAN manage basic life-sustaining transactions!  It’s so exciting!  Before Peace Corps, if you told me that knowing how to give directions in a small town would make me feel so accomplished I would have laughed.  I still laugh, it’s hysterical that this makes me feel so great but hey, I’ll take it.

The Cawit Livelihood Center is a small house that serves as a Value-Adding Facility.  The women who work here are Cawit Fisherfolk.  They have been trained on different ways of preparing fish in order to help fisherfolk make more money off of their catch.  They can also debone Silag (anchovy) faster than anyone I’ve ever met.

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A few weeks ago, the center was in full action during our Fish Conservation Week.  There was a fish deboning competition where the winner deboned 175 silag in 15 minutes.  After that there was a cooking contest.  My Grandpa would be pretty happy to hear that I ate an absurd amount of anchovies that day. Fried silag, silag lumpia, silag curry, these women know how to cook fish!  

I recognized the women as they showed Gloria around their little facility and I felt comfortable in the familiarity of it all.  I’m a homebody, but I love the challenge of finding that comfort while traveling.  Building that settledness is rewarding, and perpetuates my love of travel and living abroad.  Come visit, I know the way! 😉  

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8 Little Habits You Didn’t Know Were Different on the Other Side of the World

| Chelsea

It’s been a while hasn’t it, the past couple weeks have been busy but there is a treat at the end if you’ve been missing my writing. Enjoy!

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Every culture has little habits that are so ingrained in its people’s behavior that the actors don’t think for a second, that those actions may be performed differently in other parts of the world. While I’ve begun to learn about the habits of my corner of the Philippines, I’ve also started learning which of my habits are unique to the United States.

  1. Fork and Knife or Spoon and Fork?

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In the United States meals are typically eaten with a fork and knife. In the Philippines, meals are eaten with a spoon and fork, with the spoon being used more prominently than the fork—if they use silverware at all. It’s also very common to ditch the silverware all together and eat with ‘mga kamot mo!’ or ‘your hands!’

  1. What you’re looking for is just over there!

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Pointing in the Philippines isn’t done with your hands; it’s done by puckering your lips.

  1. ‘No shoes in the house’ isn’t just Mom’s rule!

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Every house here has a pile of shoes at the door. Wearing shoes inside is very uncommon. So kick off those zapatos at the door! Unless, they’re house tsinelas of course.

  1. Every day is an umbrella day.

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In the USA, umbrellas are for rain, and big umbrellas are for beaches and porches. But here, umbrellas are carried, and used, at all times. The Pinoy Sun is intense! Umbrellas are used to shade people from those extreme rays. I can personally tell you this is a worthwhile investment. Even short trips outside can result in sunburn!

  1. Sit, rest muna!

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This is a common, and comfortable, sitting position for Filipinos young and old! If people are sick of standing, watching an event, fixing a tryke, or even cooking they’ll just take a squat. Is there a United States equivalent for this?? Let me know below if you think of one!

  1. Can I get through a post without mentioning eating?

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No, no I cannot. But anyways, by bunching your fingers together (similar to ASL for ‘eat’) and touching your cheek you can communicate a number of things about eating. Depending on the context, this can mean ‘have you eaten?’, ‘come eat!’, or ‘we are eating.’

  1. ACHOO-EY

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S/O to my Dad who sneezes like that. In the United States we usually say ‘bless you’ after someone sneezes. This is not practiced in the Philippines. Most people don’t say anything. Sometimes I still say ‘bless you’ instinctively, can’t kick all those American habits!

  1. But what’s your nickname?

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In the United States, if someone prefers a nickname over their actual name, they’ll usually tell you upon introducing themselves.  I don’t have any preference on what people call me so when I was asked  ‘what is your nickname?’ I said I didn’t have one.  I received confused looks and was asked a few more times ‘but, what’s your nickname?’. I now understand those looks because EVERYONE has a nickname. I now I have many many nicknames, Chee and Chels are the most common (at the moment).  This can make things complicated when someone is addressing me, I have to listen for so many different syllables and versions of my name!

What other countries have you encountered that uphold these habits? Which countries don’t? What are some habits you’ve noticed elsewhere? Let me know, comment below!

AND AS PROMISED: Bonus Post! I recently wrote an article for the blog Travel Belles. The article is 10 tips for adjusting to life in a new country, check it out here, and pass it along to anyone who might find it helpful!

5, 6, 7, 8: Let The Town Fiesta Begin

| Chelsea


Prior to this fiesta my co-workers asked me if we had fiestas in the United States. I said ‘of course!’ Casiguran is a small municipality, so I talked about my small hometown. Our Grape Harvest Festival we used to have in Washingtonville, and the Cheese Festival in Monroe. I talked about the food, the music, and the dancing. How my family and I would walk through the winery or down the streets of Monroe. My sisters and friends would play games, go in bounce houses, and look through the vendors. We would eat good food, and always take home a jar of fresh pickles (my favorite). But as I sat packed into the Casiguran Gymnasium on day one of five celebrating Casiguran’s Patron Saint, I decided that a Pinoy Town Fiesta is like nothing I have ever seen before.

The Mayor stood in front of his adoring audience and entertained his community. He’s been described to me as a ‘jolly man’, which sounds odd to my American ears because the only person I’ve heard called ‘jolly’ in my entire life is Santa Claus. Yet, I can’t help but agree with them, he is jolly. As the jolly mayor finished up his playful opening remarks, the first barangay was ready to begin their performance. These performances are a culmination of a dancing, marching, flag twirling, and baton throwing; typically performed by young girls in elementary school or high school. However in this case, the only woman under the age of 40 was the young girl standing in the very front. The Town Fiesta in Casiguran has a tradition of having the older women of the community perform instead of the younger generation. The girl in front had been given the task of teaching and leading the women behind her in the routine they were about to perform.

As I watched them march forward they paused for a second before starting their number. All of them dressed to match one another except for the young girl in front. Her fancy costume had a bodice, skirt, and headpiece that were covered in golden sequins and she wore long heeled boots. As the band behind her began to play I watched as she mouthed the words; ‘five, six, seven, eight.’ I smiled to myself because I have repeated those four words throughout my life so many times I can’t even begin to count.

5, 6, 7, 8 and I remembered the tickle that would rise through my stomach when walking on stage in my little tutu and pink tights. I remembered how the hairspray would gather my hair into stiff little rows that were pulled together into a bun. I remembered how many scars I probably still have on my scalp from sharp bobby pins being pushed into my pile of hair and hitting my head.  I remembered how many pictures I have at home of me and my cousins dressed up in our dance costumes.  I smile at the thought of a little version of myself in bright red lipstick and a red and orange costume eager to go on stage.  I really appreciate how my experiences here have had a way of renewing memories I had all but forgotten about.  I turned my attention back to the gymnasium floor and watched as their performance came to life while I quietly kept count in my head.

These performances were not taken seriously whatsoever, and that was part of the beauty. The Ates, Nanays, and Lolas, in front of me had an absolute ball.  They marched, and danced with huge smiles on their faces. They twirled their flags and batons, and laughed as they dropped those flags and batons. They shook their hips in their short skirts and long socks, and the crowd went wild. The mayor would call aside the more animated dancers at the end and hand out P 1000 bills. The fun energy radiated throughout the municipality and got everyone excited for the next couple days.

If you plan on visiting me, which I hope you all are, make sure to do so during a fiesta. Fiestas here are a special outward extension of the sentiment held by the people who live here. It’s like a shortcut in which you get to experience, not only, the food, the history, and the culture of the Philippines, but also the fun-loving and jolly spirit of the Pinoy people. I will get to attend many fiestas here in the Philippines, and I hope you join me!

 

Filipino Palengke

| Chelsea

PEACE CORPS CBT: A WALK THROUGH THE PALENGKE

Walking through a Filipino Palengke for the first time is an explosion of sensory experiences. The warehouse is open on all sides and the aisles are lit only with ambient light from the city outside. It takes a second for our eyes to adjust from the strong Philippines’ sunlight to the dimly lit market aisles. The pungent smell of fish, meat, and produce, sourly climbs up our noses, but our brains are so busy with our other senses the smell seems to fade. The cracked, chipped and discolored white tile counters are filled with fish of every color and size. Each vendor has their own small bare florescent light bulb illuminating their counter.

We shimmy around one another in the crowded aisles and are sprayed from either side by fish scales and salt water. The Tilapia vendor lets close to 30 fish flop across his counter. In an attempt to escape, one throws itself on to the concrete floor of the market. I scoop him up and my stomach turns a little as I return him to the counter, where he waits to be de-scaled and gutted alive. The other fish lay dead in humongous piles on the tile. Almost every fish you could possibly imagine has passed through this market.

Barracudas, that must have been equivalent to the length of the vessel they came into port on, tuna heads bigger than my own head, beautiful watercolored Parrotfish the size of dinner platters. Cross sections of Morray eel’s whom, when they were whole, must have resembled the sea serpent that slithered through your childhood nightmares. Hundreds of lapu-lapu (grouper) bright red with metallic blue flecks concentrated at their heads and scattered across their bodies. As we walked through the market I realized I had never seen most of these fish out of the water and how many of them seemed significantly bigger here, than they did under the sea.

Fruits, vegetables, leaves, roots, and spices hang, drape and pile on every open surface.

As we walk deeper into the warehouse past the fish vendors we come upon the the prutas at gulay (fruits and vegetables) stands. Their stands have many tiers. Fruits, vegetables, leaves, roots, and spices hang, drape and pile on every open surface. The fruits are strange, and one vendor rip open red fuzzy fruits for us to try. The flesh is white and so sweet we decide to buy a kilo, 90P lang. Collecting new fruits and vegetables along the way we walk even further to the carne vendors. These stands are far from the ambient light of the city but they still glow bright red and I get that eerily feeling that we’re walking into a horror movie. Every part of the animal hangs from giant silver hooks or is set out on silver platters. The vendors wear a white apron stained pink by their work and swing a giant cleaver to chop up kilos of meat.

We approached the smiling vendors and watched as their eyes widened when we said ‘Magkano ito’ (how much is this)


We approached the smiling vendors and watched as their eyes widened when we said ‘Magkano ito’ (how much is this). They laughed ‘You speak Tagalog?!’. ‘Konti lang, konti lang’ (just a little, just a little). It went on like this for a few hours before we walked back into the Philippines’ sun to leave the market. Our brains were tired and our stomach’s growled at the ingredients in our arms. We made our way back to our small, quiet, peaceful Barangay with arms full of ingredients to make fish tacos (we’re all experiencing a bit of a Mexican food withdrawal). As we cooked up our tortillas and fish, we snacked on the weird little red fruits and decided there is nothing quite like a Filipino Palengke.

Magandang Umaga Po

| Chelsea

PEACE CORPS CBT: DAY TO DAY

That is the sentence that starts my every day. I wake up to roosters and motorcycle engines outside my window. I sit down to a breakfast of rice and tortong talong. My host sister and brothers leave for school and I walk down the dusty paved road toward the Peace Corps staff house for class. On my walk I greet everyone: “Magandang Umaga Po!”. Curious eyes watch as I walk around kal-asos and trykes, or as I squish to the side of the road as a large truck comes through. Mornings are usually language sessions and during breaks, we walk less than 100 paces to stand on the seashore. We stretch our legs, stand in the surf, and breathe in the salty air. We break at lunch and I head home where Kuya greets me. He makes me food for lunch, usually chicken (manok), and of course, rice. Little Job is usually home from Kinder-one by then and he hides behind my chair and pokes me while I eat. The afternoon rolls in and I accept the slow melting feeling that will loom over me for the rest of the day.

The afternoons are usually technical sessions. The past two weeks have consisted of learning to perform coral seagrass and mangrove assessments, learning fish coral seagrass and mangrove identification, in both English and Tagalog, and learning to perform a participatory coastal resource assessment. To say it’s been a busy couple of weeks is an understatement. But sitting on the edge of a pump boat at 7am waiting to jump into the water and assess coral is a pretty great way to start the work week.

To say it’s been a busy couple of weeks is an understatement.

When I come home at night I am greeted by ‘Ate Chelsea, Ate Chelsea!’ And hugs from little Job and Denise. I live with an Ate and Kuya. They have a daughter and two sons, but several cousins live close by so there are always kids around. The kids and I enjoy coloring, countless games of monkey monkey (go fish), and reading. At night everyone watches television and does their homework. We eat dinner, and I go to bed to the sound of videoke, kal-asos, and my fan turned on its highest setting.

…each day brings unique unexpected moments of being present.

Aside from my daily schedule each day brings unique unexpected moments of being present. Whether it’s drinking the best buko juice I’ve ever had from freshly cut coconuts on a beachside goat farm (and subsequently getting that coconut stolen by a goat), or dancing with the Ates at a birthday party while singing videoke. I’m amazed at the world of the Philippines as it unfolds before me.