A week on the island...

I've figured out the secret to a good internet cafe business...get an adorably cute dog to run around and distract people with its charm and therefore make them spend more time, thus spend more money. GENIUS! (And once again with my amazing ideas, someone thought of this first, and it's sitting next to me, sniffing my bags from the bookstore).

Ok, so with that said....

I've been in Cebu for one week. The funny thing is I've been more elsewhere than in Cebu City since I've been here.

First off, last week was All Saint's Day. Maybe some of you confused this with Halloween, its evil American twin. That is quite alright, I don't blame you. In fact, I hope you had tons of fun and got no cavities (or razorblades as the old urban legend goes). All Saint's Day happens on November 1st (not the 31st, so really they aren't twins, and I should know). It's very similar to All Saint's Day as celebrated by the Spanish influence cultures, because, let's face it, the Philippines after three hundred years of Spanish rule is HIGHLY influence in that respect. I didn't hear tale or witness any grand parades, but there were fiestas from what I've heard told, although I didn't attend any. I did get to visit the family of one of my PCPR co-workers, Beth, and go to two very different cemetaries to participate in the day. Families come together to visit their loved ones who have passed on. And where else would you do such a thing except the cemetary. You take flowers, candles, and food, and basically just hang out, or at least that's what we did. Many people have large dinners where they set a place for their passed loved one, and no one is allowed to sit in their seat or eat their food. Candles are also lit at homes to keep vigil for the souls of the dead so they can find their way home. Many people even spend the night at the grave sites.

As I said we went to two very different cemetaries. The first was a lot like those Americans are accustomed to, but even more spread out. We set up a tent on top of the grave (scandalous, eh? a sure way to get your foot grabbed), and I mostly played cards with Beth's son and nephew. The second graveyard we visited was at night and consisted of above-ground cement, er, tombs, I guess (I can't think of what you would call them). People sit on top of the caskets and drink, eat, and again, just hang out. We didn't stay all night, but went back to Beth's sister's house to sleep.

Something to note here is her sister's house. Her sister actually lives in Japan, and has for about thirteen years. She has a very impressive house, two floors, beautiful light fixtures, BATHTUBS, a washing machine (not like you would think, though), a gate, tiled floors. She doesn't get to enjoy it, though. She spends almost all of her time in Japan, having people visit her. She sends money back to her family, who sometimes use the house. Her daughter celebrated her birthday on All Saint's Day, turning 13, and has hardly seen her mom save for the two months she spends visiting her in Japan. That's the reality for a lot of Filipinos. Beth's family grew up in a poor setting. The only way their family was able to get enough money to buy a nice house (which is actually comparable to a middle class house), was to go abroad and send money home. When I see a nicer home, I sadly immediately think, I wonder which family member is in which country.

So besides that, this weekend I spent in the mountains of Cebu. In my assignment I work with Pastor Noriza Patahulang and her assigned churches in the Cebu conference. She is assigned to three very small, poor churches in the mountains outside of the city. It takes about two hours to get their, and one must travel up steep, paved, pot-holed roads to reach them. We actually stayed at a very nice house of a retired Bishop, Bishop Bintang, who houses one of the churches on his property. The church is being redone (financed by his brother who is a pastor in Hawaii) so it can hold the next conference meeting in April. We actually visited all three churches, which are a short distance apart as the crow flies, but take quite a while to reach for we flightless humans. The church we actaully went to for church today was Tanganilan, which is the smallest and most difficult to reach. It is more like a small covered patio on top of a mountain. Our multi-cab, as they call it (or actually moolti-cahb), couldn't reach the church, and we hiked up the mountain about one kilometer to reach it. I spent most of the time eslewhere in my mind because for a good five hours, people around me spoke only in Cebuano. I can't imagine how Kuyo Dan thinks I will learn Cebuano just by listening because I couldn't decipher any word that wasn't a number (and those were in Spanish). I am trying though. The church was very nice and the cool mountain breeze was very refreshing. It's nice to split time between the city and the country and I look forward to next weekend when we will go back to Bishop Bintang's home and attend a CYF (Christian Youth Fellowship) meeting of the three churches in Sak-on.

Until then I have two rest days and another urban poor immersion. Even though my first urban poor immersion was over two months ago, that experience still sticks with me, and in brutal honesty, I am terrified of Wednesday when I will return, even if just for a night, to intense poverty and no English. I feel very ashamed to have such thoughts, but they are ones any spoiled middle-class American would have. I am a product of my environment. I hope to be able to connect with these people and learn even more this time around.

I'll write again soon.

Peace, I hope