Friday Afternoon

A break was needed.

Bickering children and sighing mom, we loaded up the buckets and shovels, the blanket and chairs.

We packed up our shriveled and worn souls.

No music, no laughter. Just a gritting of the teeth determination that this is needed.

No matter if they/I deserve this respite from the messy house and littered life.
No matter if the oldest is about to pitch the fourth through the window (and with good reason, it seems...)
No matter.

Fighting traffic, fighting despair, we make our way to the open.

As the highway signs give way to trees and other life signs, my shoulders relax, my jaw un-clenches. The kids notice the birds: hawks and kites, swaying in the breezes that buildings of suburbia inhibit. The clouds are wisped with a painter's stroke.

Too long, I think. It's been way too long since we've done this.

Since we've escaped.

The weathered woman at the park entrance drawls her southern greeting and I smile. Unused muscles creak, and my tired eyes light up. Asking if we need a map, I shake my head. We have traveled this road... we have traveled these roads many times, too many times.

Yet not enough.

Winding our way to our place of respite, the kids squeal in delight:
















An empty landscape to make their mark.

No paths to follow, no mistakes to undo. Pure, clean and new.

We bring our burdens... we lay them out. And we work. Building and re-building. All of 5 of them work it through. The castles are tipped, the sand is carved. Moats, mortar, sticks and feathers.

Digging, laughing, squealing in the frigid water... wind-whipped hair, they circle around me as I lay on the blanket and soak in the warmth.

My camera dies, and I understand. The present is now, and I must capture within... the view of sand and children and sunshine reflected.

Muddy and spent, we head home... stopping for ice cream and treats.

No, we didn't deserve them. We don't deserve this.

Any of it.

:)

Advice From the Peanut Gallery

Little Boo (watching Sports Fan's basketball team get cremated this morning):

Hey, Sports Fan.... HULK- SMASH!!

No, I have no idea where she gets it from.

:P

Living in a Third World Country... Part IV

Part I here.

Part II here.

Part III here.


To be an American living in one of the upper provinces of the Philippines was difficult in so many ways. Not difficult as in "impossible to handle", but more as in "I obviously have so much to learn."

By the time I went to visit my family, they had been there for almost a year, and had adjusted quite well to their new life. I was duly impressed. Little did I know what a culture shock I was in for, when they took me from the big city of Manila to the upper part of Luzon where they had set up their home.

I had no idea how much we, as Americans, would stand out. I had no idea how much their life had become akin to living in a fish bowl. The differences in culture would be magnified a hundred-fold once we left the big capital.

The most obvious difference between Americans and Filipinos is purely physical. Well duh, I know.

Here in the States, we do not gawk at foreigners. I guess we consider it nosy or just plain rude. Besides, we live in a country filled with immigrants. Yes, we all fall into that category. Our ancestors were once immigrants, and to see citizens of other countries walking our streets is an everyday occurrence. Not so in the upper provinces of the Philippines. There, Americans are idolized. "Whitening" creams are sold, so Filipinos can lighten their skin tone... while we in the US have tanning creams... ironic, no? And blue eyes=beauty queen. My sisters were the belles of the school.

;)

Anyone over 5 feet tall is an anomaly. I can't tell you how many times I was asked my height before my name, when being introduced. And the inquiries were borne of awestruck innocence. They simply could not believe that anyone could be that tall.

I think the hardest part for my mom and I especially, was the seeming apathetic nature of the Filipino people. This is a tricky subject to navigate, but it must be brought out. Americans would not stand for a bridge half-built because the local government authorities pocketed the rest of the money. Americans would riot and demonstrate against a government that stole and lied and cheated it's people out of their due. Americans would stand up to police officers who attempted to extort money or demand bribes for the release of innocent citizens. Sometimes my mom would go on a tirade against the injustices of the Philippine government as she explained the depth of corruption that existed. I think she'd have taken on the whole country if my Dad would let her.

:)

It is difficult to watch a people that you have come to know and love, be cheated out of the necessities of life at every turn.

Yet, the people of the Philippines were not bothered by these injustices. They dealt with the half built bridge by taking a make-shift ferry across the river every day. They handed over hard earned wages to the police just to have the privilege of going home. These people are so poor that they must buy their cigarettes individually... not in packs or (oh, the luxury!) cartons.

And so it must seem very ironic that these people all have one amazing thing in common.

They smile.

They smile constantly. At everything, and everyone. As a reserved NYer, this was something I had to quickly adapt to. Like, instantaneously. My parents told me that it would be very rude if I did not smile at everyone I met or passed. And, being the only American family in the province, we attracted a lot of attention wherever we went. With eyes always on us, we lived and smiled.

It puzzled me then. As a spoiled American, I was astounded at their cheerful attitude. And it puzzles me now as I look back on it. I did not know what they had to smile about.

I am convinced, however, at the wisdom in their being content. Maybe "apathy" is too negative a word for their attitude. Maybe "resignation" is too weak a word. Maybe their joy came from simply living. From being alive and surrounded by friends and family. The government they regarded as a pesky fly that sometimes got in the way, but was tolerated.

They could be cheated, lied to, and stolen from... but no institution on earth could rob them of their joy.

Filed Under: I Don't Really WANT To Know....

And this is why...





















And yes, we are just now taking our Christmas tree down. We like to procrastinate prolong this joyous season!

:P

Living in a Third World Country... Part III

Even though my parents and siblings had work and school during the day, they were able to take some time and show me around like a regular tourist.

It was during these trips that the Philippine way of life became real and known to me.

Traveling with my parents to their teaching sessions (their ministry was to offer support to the teachers of the diocese) I experienced the insanity that is the "law of the road" in the provinces. There is a hierarchy. And if a bus wants to pass, everyone makes room. So a two lane road suddenly becomes a three or four lane highway! Jeepneys (open smaller buses) get the right of way over tricycles (small motorcycles with a sidecar) and bicyclists, though they also travel the roads, need to constantly pull to the side to let the other vehicles roar past. Allowing a bicycle to go first, and remaining behind it at a crawling pace will only get you honked at... as I learned while navigating the roads myself.

Another interesting sight in driving the country roads near the farms, is the inevitability that there will be huge patches of roadway covered with rice. The farmers need to dry out the rice pods before shelling them, and since the ground is marshy wetland, the obvious solution is to rake the rice right out onto the road. When possible, it is preferred that you navigate around these patches of rice, but given the hierarchy of vehicles, that is not always possible. I was horrified the first time we plowed over some poor farmer's swath of rice, but soon realized it was that or suffer a collision.. either head on, or from behind. And so we just drove on.

I think the scariest ride was the one we took to Baguio, in the province of Benguet. It was a three hour drive, through the most beautiful and rugged landscape. The city itself sits in the Cordillera Central Mountain Range, and therefore boasts more mild temperatures. I was eager to experience some cold air again! The last part of the drive, though, almost made me regret our trip. Since Baguio City is on a mountain, we were driving switchbacks on a road that really seemed to be meant as a one lane only. Now picture our little jeep sharing the road with buses and jeepneys, and yes, the occasional bicyclist? Yes, I kept my eyes closed a lot.

This is what I was fearing, and what actually happened during a typhoon last year:















(photo credit)

This is the very road we took.

As you will come to realize throughout the rest of my posts, one comes to the reality of "letting go" of the insulated fears of the west. It's hard to explain... but bouncing along in a tricycle on rocky, muddy roads, or holding on for dear life at the front of a fisherman's boat as you speed through an inlet on your way to an island in the South China Sea, you truly realize that your life is not your own. You are at the mercy of the elements, simply because you are too poor to keep the elements at bay. And you have a choice.

You can choose to live in constant fear of the next wave, the next bend in the road, or the next typhoon. Or you can simply accept what God has in store, relying on His grace and wisdom and love to see you through. Either way, you cannot have the final say. So you may as well smile a lot, (the Filippinos are always smiling) hold on tight, and enjoy the ride.

Living in a Third World Country Part II

In the humid and close mornings, Geckos scattered over the floor and walls as we wakened. At first, I was startled by these little lizards, appalled to think that my mother tolerated their presence in her home. When questioned, she shrugged her shoulders and explained that they were a natural mosquito repellent. After that, I was very careful about where I stepped and even regarded those little creatures as friends.

After our morning showers, we would all pile in our car (a very old sedan, no A/C). Since there were 7 of us, there were not enough seat belts. A very real problem here in the U.S. but not even a consideration there. I didn't say a word, but pulled one of my little sisters onto my lap to make room. Off we went to the church "compound" where my siblings went to school and my parents worked with the Bishop.

One day, my mom took me to the "marketplace" downtown. If you were to look in a National Geographic magazine that pictured marketplaces in Africa, the same would apply here. I was really enjoying myself, looking at all the exotic fruits and even purchasing a few to try. My favorite was a round spiky fruit called Rambutan. When you peeled it, there revealed a milky white slippery fruit which you popped into your mouth, being careful not to bite the pit. It was incredibly sweet and juicy.

What I wasn't prepared for, was the raw meat section of the market, located under the tents. There was no refrigeration, and the stench was unbelievable. My mom led me past the barrels of fish and, noticing my wrinkled nose and gagging mouth, warned me not to offend by my expressions. I pasted a smile on my face and tried not to throw up. We purchased our chicken, and I watched in amazement (and I hope, not horror) as the smiling woman whacked the head off the hanging whole chickens and handed them to my mom who placed them into her bag, paid, and walked serenely away.

I helped my mom carry our goods to a waiting tricycle (small motorcycle with a sidecar) and we zoomed home.

I'm pretty sure she held on to the chickens...

:)

Living in a Third World Country... Part I

To spare the reader, I will break this series down into parts. The recent destruction in Haiti, and the descriptions of their life has triggered many memories of visiting my parents in the Philippines the summer before my senior year of college.


When I was a junior in college, my parents sold everything they owned and moved the family to the Philippines.

Sometime soon I'm going to have my mom do a guest post on here. Their experience spans almost two years, and is something that would be good to read about given the recent devastation in Haiti... if nothing else but to begin to understand the way of life of a people so poor and desolate.

I was fortunate enough to visit my family in the province of Pangasinan, living with them in their second floor apartment in the city of Alaminos for two weeks before I returned to college as a senior.

During my stay, my eyes were opened in many ways. What I witnessed there would sometimes make my jaw hit the ground in disbelief, but there were also moments of extreme beauty and peace. Maybe because I knew I would be leaving I felt I could truly drink in my surroundings... but as someone who was not trapped there. I did not have to scratch my living from the harsh and fickle landscape. There was a rhythm to these people, especially in the provinces... a connection to the land that was not present in the cities. (And isn't that case, no matter what country you live in?)

While we did travel around sometimes in a borrowed jeep (with A/C... what a luxury!) we did sleep in our rooms with fans blowing and windows open. No covers were needed, and cold showers were taken at least twice a day. I have never known such humidity. I think we could have made water by trapping air in a cup and making it condense. Any clothing with an ounce of polyester was unwearable, and make up was useless. So, we were not insulated by any means. My family was out there, living and moving and breathing with the locals.

And this enabled me to experience firsthand, albeit for a brief time, what it was like to live in such a poor country.

Sunshine and Allergies Daybook

Warm weather has returned to the Nut House. Highs in the low 70's this week! But with it comes much pollen. DH is especially having a hard go of it these days.


Outside my window....

Abundant sunshine. I'm looking forward to my afternoon break outside in my patio chair with a good book.


I am listening to...

Little Love and Little Boo playing. No school today, so they are taking advantage of the quiet downstairs to spin their tales with Polly Pockets tucked into decorative shelving set up as exquisite homes.


I am wearing...

Pink and lime flannel plaid pj bottoms, lime green sweatshirt and crocs. Don't ask about the hair. :P


I am thankful for...

The return of the warmer weather. I don't feel so restricted and hunkered down anymore.


I am reading...

Edge of Sadness for bookclub, and In Conversation with God for me. For those of you who have read In Conversation... is it just me, or does it miraculously apply to just about every day of your life? The meditations are unbelievably timely and applicable. Gives me the goosebumps.


From the kitchen...

Two very ripe bananas. Guess I'll be making muffins today. Everything is stocked for the week, I just need to spin my magic and think up some delectable meals... that include lots of salad.


I am thinking...

That I do my best thinking in the shower at night. And I need to post then, not in the morning. Which means my time with DH will be limited. Not. Good. Hmmm. Need to think more about that.


On my iPod...

I hardly listen anymore. Does the soundtrack to Cars count? lol The kids insisted that DH put it on, and now that's their clean up music. A tad bit loud sometimes.


Towards a real education...

Catechism co-op today! We love that the kids get weekly time with their best friends. Delving into the faith with them and their awesome teachers is something I would never replace. It's amazing for them.


Towards rhythm and beauty...

Hosting 75 people here on Saturday night convinced me that our house is way more versatile than I thought. It was lovely. I'm excited to plan for other events in the future... and declutter everything we "packed away" from tiny fingers...


To live the Liturgy...

Love my spiritual reading. I can't say enough about it. Keeping those meditations in mind throughout the day has made me look at everything I do in a new light. Sanctifying our work as moms is a real thing. It raises our work to the supernatural. But it's not us. We need to beg God for His grace. Humbling, and yet awesome.


I am hoping and praying...
For so many situations.


In the garden...
The pansies are still alive, looking a bit wilted. Guess I need to water them! :)


Around the house...

Laundry. And lots of it.


On keeping home...
Still no chore schedule. What is it going to take for us(me) to get my act together? Any tips?


One of my favorite things...

Sunshine and a good book.


A few plans for the rest of the week...

Bunco Friday night. Playdates for the kids, and a meal for a friend with a new little blessing!


A picture thought I am sharing...
















This is how Little Boo plays hockey with Papa.

:P

Early Morning

Standing at the precipice
About to hurl myself over the edge
of today,
I wonder at my past folly.

To leap and not to care
if the net was secure
if the wind was right
if I was right.

To leap and not wonder
at the uncertainty of
the day ahead.
All that would happen.
Not to wonder
was I ready?

What folly
to cast myself into today
and not secure the bindings
and make safe my path
through His love
of words
and comfort.

And step out, firmly tethered
to weather the storms
directing my ship
with His hand
and
ride the waves of grace.

When Patience is Needed in Abundance

Little Love: Mama! Mama! I can count to 100... wanna hear?

Mama: Errrrm... sure.

Little Love: 1, 2, (...) 59, 70, 71... oh! Oh no no no no! That's not right!
Lemme start over.
1, 2....


:P