From Marty – Of Dark and Light

All of us on this GSE team have the kind of skin that leads friends to say, “oh, you burn so easily.”  I’ve had freckles all my life, and it’s true: I don’t tan, I burn. If I ever had them, I gave up dreams of ever becoming a bathing beauty years ago. All of us on this trip are like that, but Juliette has particularly fair skin, almost porcelain, and fair coloring. And she is clearly something of a minor sensation.

In America, women head to the beach or the tanning salon to ”improve” on Mother Nature, even though we know that long term, tanning can be dangerous to our health. Here in the Philippines, young women take chemicals and go to the bleaching salon, again to improve upon nature. And that can’t be any healthier.

While we are on the topic, I have met more dentists in this country than I think I have ever met in my life. It turns out that they are mostly doing cosmetic dentistry including orthodontia for adults – a big thing. And then there is rhinoplasty, and all sorts of options for changing the look of one’s face to be more “American.” In fact, it turns out that Amerasian is “in” – I have been told that the majority of movie stars and television personalities are, indeed, Amerasian by blood. Oh, those randy GIs.

So while Americans invest in artificial ways to appear younger and thinner, Filopinos are investing to  look more American. Just not the supersized version.

Self-perception is everything, of course. I have yet to meet a Filapina under the age of 40 who isn’t absolutely gorgeous.

 

The Sound of Music

As I write this, a tape is playing on the terrace and the TV is on in the kitchen. This is about as quiet as it gets. Throughout our time here in the Philippines we have encountered continuous piped-in music, in cars, restaurants, meeting rooms, even TV in cars. Sometimes the sound systems are “warring,” with us caught between several musical rhythms.  And in case of doubt: All music is rock. When Cat said she really sang classical music, someone said, “oh, you mean like Frank Sinatra?”

And then there’s the decibel level. All sound systems are set on “high.” All music is set on forte. Everything, from the ever-present karaoke to the TV, is set for better listening from the next room. Plus. every time someone starts a speech, it seems that the person sitting next to me starts a private conversation with me. If the phone rings, no one seems to expect that the conversation in the room will soften. And, people speak softly.

All this came to a head last night at the World Peace and Understanding dinner, where the music was loud and almost at screeching range, and the speeches monotonal. And the side conversations ever-present.

–Marty

   

 

From Marty: World Peace and Understanding Day

We started the day with a Rotary celebration at a new Rotary Peace monument in the center of Quezon City. Many speeches, more flowers, and then we released 103 balloons and two doves into the air to symbolize the day. A color guard provided youth and excitement, and all-in-all, it was a fine way to start off Rotary’s 103^rd birthday. Then the celebration and local Rotarians moved inside while we went off to see our first project of the day.

Wow! That’s the only word for it. Where there was once a shanty town of dump pickers, in less than five years Rotary has built a community of just over 300 houses, school, community center, paved roads and covered sewer, water supply, trees, plants, and most important, hope. The men build the homes, so I was told the cost per house is $1200US, refrigerators and furniture not included. Each house has electricity, indoor plumbing, kitchen and living area, and one or two bedrooms. And, because of the improved sanitation and closed sewer, the houses lie safely above high water, even in the rainy season. Wow indeed.

As I mentioned, the men – all former dump pickers – supply the labor to build their own houses. The families hold title to their homes, and their children can inherit them, but they cannot sell them. Moreover, if members of the community are caught with drugs or anything illegal, they lose title and are thrown out. “It’s the only drug-free community in the Philippines,” one of our hosts told me.

A sisterhood of nuns is providing job training and family counseling, and I was told that microlending is in the offing. The spirit, the excitement, the positive feelings of ownership and hope throughout the community was indescribable.

We had a flag ceremony in front of the water tower and I was asked to raise the American flag, which I proudly did. The children sang and danced, Rotarians gave speeches and more speeches, and we walked through the community and played with the children as they tumbled out of school. All this grew out of the RC of Loyola Heights’ Centennial project, the most remarkable Rotary project I have ever seen. On any continent. I make that statement based on the scope of the communityand the number of lives being changed. Later I learned that the club is ready to expand the community, and would like to use the concept as a model for elsewhere; the problem is acquiring land …

Then back to the City Hall for lunch, and to view RC Cubao West’s mobile surgical unit. The trailer is equipped with two chairs that serve as surgical beds, and volunteer Rotary doctors perform surgeries under local anesthesia – Juliette and I watched as growths were removed from two patients. Juliette is an old hand in emergency rooms; it was my first time in an operating room (sans anesthesia, that is). It was intriging from that point of view, and even more interesting from the matter-of-fact way the Rotarian doctor is truly changing lives. Then it was on to a preschool program, which serves yet another dump-pickers’ community. The children are just as lively and eager to learn as I have become accustomed to see in Guatemala, and just as happy to be hugged and photographed by strangers.

There has been much to think about today. About this world-wide mission we call World Community Service, about how one Rotary club’s good idea can take off and become transmitted and “owned” by clubs from around the world who come to share the dream and the passion and can put a few dollars toward helping families create a new future for themselves. Yes, we saw sanitation and schools and a water system. But what we really saw was a chance to help hundreds of people rewrite their own future. Hundreds of people who just a few years ago were recycling in the dump and now are learning that they can dream of so much more.

From Marty – Wealth of Nations

I’m glad that I was only recently in Guatemala, if only that it helps me to compare Filipino poverty with that in our own hemisphere. Bottom line: Guatemala is a much poorer nation than the Philippines.

Don’t misunderstand me: The shantytowns that line Commonwealth Blvd match just about anything I’ve seen in Guatemala, including the dump community. And the rich are certainly just as rich – maybe more! But most poor communities seem to have at a minimum open sewers, electricity, basic sanitation, a water supply somewhere.

And while it seems to be true that street children are on their own, and many other children don’t attend school regularly because they are working to help support the family, somehow most people ids seem to acquire at least an eighth grade education, even in the rural areas. I’ve asked the cost of attending public school, and I’ve been told that there are no costs other than uniforms … still, pencils, paper and other supplies come from somewhere, and it’s apparently not the government!

We visited one of these schools today. It was hot – very little cross ventilation in the classrooms, and of course this is the coolest part of the year. The kids are chock-a-block 60 or more to a classroom, using wooden desks and shared benches, with few books in evidence as the teacher writes on the blackboard. The kids are certainly well-behaved – almost placid. As we approached the door, they would rise on command and recite a poem of welcome, than return to their seats and their studies.

The principal said she only has two computers, and the library was, umm, basic. A World Book Encyclopedia in the Reference Section which I picked up at random was dated 1986, which means that according to it, Marcos is still in power.

Sobering conditions, yes, but in every aspect much more tenable than the public school I visited in Guatemala City that serves some of Safe Passage’s children.

The schools work on split-session, as they do in Guatemala, to deal with the overpopulation. Unlike Guatemala, however, the teachers work all day, not just the half-day of their classes.  So the younger kids are in school four hours, the older children six hours.  The curriculum for the youngsters includes an hour each of English, Tagalog, Math and Civics. The older kids also receive Science and what sounded suspiciously like Social Studies. We asked about music and art, and were assured that it was imbedded in the Civics lessons.

The boys we met at the reformatory yesterday didn’t have much English under their belts, and at the time I assumed that they hadn’t been exposed to it in school, but maybe they have but don’t have a chance or much reason to practice it.

The kids in the elementary school today are just as beautiful as those I have met in Guatemala, and just as excited to pose for their photos! So I tried to oblige as many as possible!

From Marty: Change, Commitment, and Corruption

Change, Commitment, and Corruption – Take 1

Newspaper banner headlines are screaming the latest corruption crisis here in the Philippines – the First Family is/is not involved in bribery/kickbacks in a telecommunications project. Specifically, the “First Gentleman” is/is not involved in a major way; meanwhile, the opposition’s chief witness and his family is living in a church for protection between days of testimony in the senate.

All of the above isn’t affecting us in any directly. Manny believes that the crisis will die of its own weight – that the real intent of the opposition is to embarrass the President so that in 2010 — the next elections — her party will be defeated. She herself cannot run again because of term limits, but term limits are notoriously resolved in this country by running a spouse, a child, a parent whose job is to just hold the seat until the incumbent can legally run again.

Manny also noted that EDSA 1 and EDSA 2, the last “street” revolutions, have been replaced by “intellectual” revolutions, in which masses and statements by intellectuals supersede marches by hundreds of thousands of Filipinos.  So if political change is in the wind, it’s all happening rather sedately.

The Philippines isn’t the only country undergoing  change. We woke this morning to CNN’s report that after 49 years and counting, Fidel Castro has “resigned” from the Cuban presidency. It’s a bit unclear what will happen next; what is clear is that a Cuba without Castro has long been in the offing and that a Castro-free Cuba is happening too late to matter to many of the “exiles” in Florida who have never known anything but life in the United States.

And then there’s the US presidential campaign, which has engendered as much interest from our hosts as I anticipated, but not nearly the knowledge level that I expected.  It’s a bit unnerving to have all one’s election information derived from CNN and MSNBC headlines. How about some analysis, please?

Marty – Change, Commitment and Corruption – Take 2

Juliette and I spent our first vocational day together, visiting two government hospitals. She went as a nurse; I because both facilities have benefited from Rotary Club involvement and the facilities clearly want more.

I’ve never visited a hospital in a developing nation before, but I have heard plenty of Rotary talks about Rotaplast and other medical experiences in developing nations. Invariably, the speaker talks about hard-working, dedicated medical professionals working amid appalling conditions, so I guess that’s what I expected.

Well, the second part of the equation proved correct.

The first hospital we visited was the major military hospital, serving military personal and their dependents. It took me awhile to catch on, but the Philippine army is experiencing casualties from both Communist and insurrectionist guerrilla forces, mostly in Mindanao.  We were met and welcomed by the commanding officer, a colonel, and his staff, which seemed to be top-heavy with colonels. After a briefing and a meal, we received a tour of the facility.

The tour quickly turned into a trip onto the set of “The English Patient.” Equipment and building were aging; nothing was sanitized or clean to modern medical standards. In fact, we never once saw medical personnel wearing gloves or surgical masks.  Soap seemed non-existent; clean rooms even more so. Juliette warned me not to touch anything long after I had realized that something was very, very wrong.

The facility had a fair amount of expensive equipment – CT scanner,  X-ray equipment, hyperbaric chamber, stuff described by initials that meant nothing to me. However, the vast majority of the hardware sat deserted – broken or in need of a part or just plain non-functional. When I asked about replacement parts or training for operators to run the equipment more effectively, I was told that the money just wasn’t in the budget.

We visited a section that makes prosthetics for both children and military casualties, and the aroma of glue used in the fiberglass hung heavy in the air, with no fan or other way to disperse it.

I won’t go on. The medical personnel we spoke with may well be as hard-working as I had imagined, but they certainly have allowed lax standards to prevail. Knowing what we know about the high quality of medical training in the Philippines, it can only be assumed that this is an option, not a matter of not knowing any better.

Meanwhile, we were told that army physicians make one-tenth of what their counterparts can earn in private practice, and much, much less than what they could make if they emigrated to the US or Britain or Australia. They remain in the army for the commitment to their work, we were told.

Later, we spoke to several Rotarian doctors about what we had seen. They explained that the problem is not budget, but rather corruption. The corruption starts at the top, they said, but also exists at the hospital level itself. If there is no budget for soap or gloves or training or equipment maintenance, it is because the budget is going into the pockets of a very few individuals rather than being used to support the patients.

None of which surprised me, I am sad to say. What did surprise me is that our medical hosts actually thought that this tour would motivate me to agree to a Rotary Foundation grant.

Nothing could be further from my mind.

From Marty: Natural Resources

p22119301.jpgWe left the city for the first time during our stay yesterday – we traveled up into the hills surrounding greater Manila to visit a reformatory school/residence area for young boys who are in trouble with the law.

Our host Rotary club provides free legal services to these boys, some of whom have gotten caught in the “system” and are waiting for their legal hearings … in some cases waiting for years. The Catch-22 is that as they wait, they get older, and eventually may be transferred to the adult prison system. The current boys’ reformatory looks like a summer camp, and in any event would be infinitely preferable to whatever passes for a “real” prison in this country.

As mentioned, it was our first time away from the smog and the noise of the city, of the six lanes (each direction! No traffic lights! No directionals! No traffic cops!) We climbed out on a new concrete road, one and one-half lanes total, fairly little traffic. We passed what were less villages than just subsistence farms, tucked against the hillside/the road. The farmers are squatters, some of them have been living in the same place for generations.  Most of the houses are made out of native materials, with additions of corrugated metal. Everywhere we went, even in the most remote areas, children in their school uniforms were walking to school. I asked about that and was told that in the most part, the desire of the parents to educate their children trumped inconvenience, and that the majority of the children do, indeed stay in school through the required 10^th grade. Or at least through 8^th grade and completing elementary school.

The land is remarkably lush for the dry season, but then it rained yesterday. Not hard, but rain nonetheless. We have been told that with climate change, the old distinctions of dry and wet are disappearing. I must ask if this is effecting the rice harvest.

And we witnessed our first accident. We’ve been remarking in the city on the casual driving – not bad, really, just casual about things like one-way streets, crossing lanes, and certainly the wearing of seat belts (except for extremely paranoid us) – but it was in the country that apparently a truck reached too far out into the oncoming lane, swiped a car and pushed it off the road. We saw the flames, and later the carcass of both vehicles.  And the crowds that gathered to watch.

From Marty: Pass it Along

If there are two things that every American Rotarian is taught early on, it is the story of  Paul Harris and the fact that the worldwide PolioPlus effort came about only after Rotarians in the Philippines stamped out polio in their own country. So it is with amazement that I learned today that Philippine Rotarians do not know either that they are the ones who wiped out polio in their own country  nor that almost 30 years ago ,they were responsible for and jump-started the world-wide effort that is now making its well-deserved mark in eradicating this disease from Mother Earth.

Philippine Rotarians  are unaware that it is they who have saved the lives of thousands upon thousands of people throughout the world.

Manny told me today that it is up to me to tell their story.

About 35 years ago, the Rotary Districts here in the Philippines decided to join forces to combat polio. Everyone knew they couldn’t succeed – the serum has to be kept refrigerated, and refrigerators weren’t exactly available in the villages of this tropical country. The serum has to be given to every child in the village, and then the whole process repeated some months later. Any child who doesn’t get the vaccine the first time around can later re-infect the entire village, negating the entire procedure.

Everyone knew it couldn’t be done, but it was. And within five years, Philippines was polio free, and seeing the results, Rotary International decided that if polio could be wiped out in the Philippines, it could be wiped out worldwide. We all know the rest of the story.

But the Rotary Philippine community doesn’t know the beginning of the story.

The lesson for us is clear: We must ALWAYS pass the message along. Whatever our clubs and districts do, we can’t assume that “everyone knows,” or that talking about our wins is self-aggrandizement, but we must always share the story and make sure the messages of our past are engrained in the fabric of our ongoing organizational culture. No, Rotarians don’t do good works for credit, we do it for results. But we need to share the story of how we were able to obtain those results, share it with ourselves and with others. If we don’t, if we fail to pass along our own story, how can we expect Rotarians in the future to be able to create new wins in an unforeseeable future?

From Marty: The Key to the City

Today we met the mayor of Quezon City, Sonny Belmonte, and he gave me the key to the city. (I gave him a bottle of Johnny Walker Black.)

It’s a real key – about eight inches long, bronzed, handsome engraved carrying case about the size of a cigarette box – you get the picture.

We arrived at City Hall and our appointment with Mayor Belmonte in time for the weekly flag raising … an opportunity for choral music, band music, a statement by a councilman offering an update of ongoing legislation (in this case family planning), and presentation of the aforementioned key. Fun!

It did occur to me as we sat waiting in the VIP section for the program to start that there were probably more people present at the Quezon City ceremony than the total number of people who reside year-round in Boothbay Harbor … but that though only made the drama more fun.   Afterword we went inside City Hall – a building that could take the place of your typical US state capital in terms of size and grandeur, and met the Mayor for breakfast.

City Hall has recently been renovated, and is , indeed, a beautiful  50s-ish building. But not well kept. The renovation may have brought new paintings to the walls and electronics to the meeting rooms, but not only are the bathrooms a disaster (both plumbing-wise and otherwise ) but complete seats are missing/broken in the visitors’ gallery of the legislative room. Here we are, in the epicenter of power, with missing seats, the kind of thing that in America one would expect in a less-than-seedy  movie theatre.

What is impressive, however, is not the infrastructure, but rather, the openness. Mayor Belmonte arrived for breakfast and promptly explained that Mondays were difficult because he keeps an open mike on Mondays, when anyone in the city can come and talk to him about whatever is on their mind. And when we moved over to the legislature, the discussion was about the erection or otherwise of a basketball court to combat local gang recruitment, about as small-town neighborly as it comes and pretty impressive in a city of several million population.

Moreover, we later learned that even though federal law defines marriage to be monogamy, religious law trumps federal law, and Muslim men are legally allowed four wives. The sense of democracy and individual rights are very much in evidence. 

The simplicity and, yes, democracy was endearing. It is almost as if the Filipinos have found a way to keep the town meeting format in a population where common sense would dictate that such openness  is not possible.

Now what does that tell us about our own system, where the town hall is most evident just prior to elections?

From Marty: In God we Trust

I was not raised Catholic, but rather, to appreciate other religions and to realize that it’s not the style of worship that is important. The Mass is a great tradition, of course, and the church has had 2000 years to figure out how to do it right. It’s always interesting to see how similar – and how different – the Mass is between countries and cultures, and I guess I anticipated that Mass in the Philippines would be more Spanish – more like the Mass we shared in Guatemala a few weeks ago than Mass in our more Anglo culture.

Wrong again. In actual fact, the Mass – and the chapel – were rather austere.  But  the church was filled with young people – not what we Americans are accustomed to in any religion, and the priest clearly spoke from the heart. I was strangely moved.

And then later, Manny spoke again of the rose that had turned into the Host, and which is in his family chapel. It seems that there is a local healer who has the power not only to heal, but also to have this effect on rose petals. They harden into a wafer. Other petals absorb an image of Christ. He and Marlye both showed us several examples, and the image is indeed there.

They spoke of this healer, and of her good works. They said she has gained some official interest from Rome – of the positive sort, I mean, and they know people she has healed, including one man who is Muslim.

Now, my own family history includes a g-grandfather who had been miraculously healed, and who believed in the power of the Lord to heal, so I have so problem with a modern-day equivalent. In fact, this healer seems to see herself as an adjunct to modern medicine, and to heal regardless of religious affiliation. My g-grandfather, on the other hand, was more parochial in his views … he could only ask the Lord for healing on those who were especially devout, and a trip to the doctor was seen as a sign of disbelief and even distrust in the Lord.

Later on in the day we visited a fung shei store, which sells all sorts of amulets and statues for good luck. There, in and amongst the birth signs and special stones were crucifixes and statuettes of the Virgin and various saints. The combination of Chinese astrology and Christian metaphor was striking. And a reminder, once again, that all religions are a manifestation of our attempt to understand a common Divine.

Do I believe in miracles? That was Manny’s original question to me. Intellectually, no, but emotionally, miracles cannot be understood or explained, and that is the way it is supposed to be. And whether its a rose petal taking on a holy image or a disease inexplicably halted, the reason doesn’t really matter. It’s the effect that counts.   

From Marty – Sunday – a day of new beginnings

Our hosts, Manny and Marlye, couldn’t be more warm or welcoming.

Manny,  a dental surgeon who also is a builder, lives in an incredible compound with his wife, son, daughter in law and grandson that itself is in a gated community. He calls his house old, and it is certainly furnished that way, with antiques and architectural columns and other details that came from the family’s ancestral home in Ilocos in the north. The house itself, however, was built only in 1973, and he has been adding on ever since. Today, the compound includes, all in separate buildings, a  bar, Rotary meeting room, office, guest quarters, small family chapel, karaoke space, basketball court and garden and several carp pools and waterfalls, plus main house, all sort of wandering in and out of doors without walls to delineate in from out. 

Manny moved from the north to Manila, and became a dentist like his grandfather. Marlye and both sons are dentists. One of his sons and a daughter live in the states; so does his mother, and his father died and is buried in California. Manny is a past president of the Philippine Dentist Association, and campaign posters adorn the walls. His office is a veritable Rotary shrine, with various presentation certificates, banners, and yes, a photo of him shaking hands with President Clinton, taken when he was GSE team leader to DC and Maryland in 1994.  Soon, a Boothbay Harbor club flag will join the collection!

Outside in the courtyard, a Rotary sign declared that Rotary meets here on Tuesday evenings. No, he explains, not now, but they did when he was president.  As he was showing us about the compound,  Manny asked me if I believed in miracles. I replied that I did not, but that I had seen them happen. He then showed me a flower that had turned into the Host. Actually, two such flowers/Hosts, sitting pride of place on the family altar. I need to know more.

Manny explained that whenever possible, he hires household help from his home province of Ilocos. This is a regionalism that in the US has been relegated to our pre-Civil War past, and I find it quite refreshing. 

He also talked some of the political situation. He said that no one is President of the Philippines without US approval. I said that that was certainly true in the old days, citing the Spanish American war that the two powers fought out on Spain’s colonies, the war of brutality between Filipinos and Americans that followed, the position of MacArthur in Quezon’s administration and of course, the US support of Marcos that kept him in power for what was essentially too long, but was that still so? Manny said oh, yes, and everyone knew it.  I have often thought that it is too bad that foreign democracies can’t get to vote in our Presidential  elections, since the results clearly impact them so much.

Marlye had been working in the clinic all day, but she joined us for dinner at a Filipino-style restaurant in a mall – all Manilos seem to gravitate to the mall, to shop, to watch the cinema or attend a concert, or just to see and be seen. The noise was even noisier than a similar place in America; in fact, warring background music has been much in evidence wherever we go.  The music is mostly western pop tunes of course; all sung in English.

Dinner was delicious – tilapia, fried pork,  battered squid, various kinds of rice, Chinese noodles; I can’t remember what else. Manny ordered too much, and we all took some of each. Marlye had invited another couple, San Franciscans returned to Manila for a visit, and they added spark to the conversation.  But Jules was fading fast – so were we all – and so we tumbled out of the mall and back to bed.  I was much astonished that we did not go back to the parking lot for the car we had arrived in – but quickly understood that we were all traveling back in Marlye’s family-sized car, with the driver bringing home Manny’s vehicle.

Evelyn, quintessential  HR manager that she is, cannot get over the quantity of staff in every store and every restaurant. She understands that minimum wage is about $10 daily, which means that human capital is easily affordable, but still, she wonders at the enormity of the number of people we see, with barely identifiable (to us, at least) job descriptions.

Marlye asked me at dinner if I were Catholic. I said no, but that if she were planning to attend Mass on Sunday I would like to attend. I explained that we all had the same God and that I doubted very much if the Good Lord cared what church I attended, as long as I remembered Him. She liked that, I think, and immediately offered to take me. I said I might need prompting about the right things to do during the service, and she said, “just follow everyone else.” So that is established, and we are attending church  in a building just across the street that is used by the residents of the gated community.  The church has no walls – instead of stained glass one looks out on the neighborhood – and Manny has explained that the priest comes from a nearby church, which makes it a chapel I suppose, instead of a church.

Marlye also text-messaged her home-service manicurist, and has arranged manicures and pedicures for us all. It looks to be a fabulous day, with glory both to God and to our own pleasures.

From Marty: First days

Flower leis and a poster welcoming us to the Philippines — we are welcomed indeed! And tired. We are finding it easy to get used to palm trees and tropical breezes; less easy to turn around our inner clocks . We had lunch with the GSE committee, and were introduced both to our own schedule and to the good works that this District does. I mentioned to Dan that I was impressed with the number of Rotarians and club projects that this District is involved with. His answer: “Sixty percent of Manila is very poor. We need a lot of Rotarians.” Words to live by. Thursday — a day we barely noticed as we flew across the international date line — was Valentine’s Day. We missed that day with our sweeties, of course, but are making up for it here: Not only were we met with the aforementioned flowers at the airport, but last night, the hotel restaurant had a “Valentines package” that included a rose for all of us, gifts of romantic movies (on DVD) and candied popcorn, and, of course, comments from the waitstaff of, “it’s my pleasure, ma’am.” Being called “ma’am” is easy to get used to, and doesn’t suggest the age differential it does in the states. Anticipation is high. In an hour or so we will be picked up to meet our first host families, and the adventure will continue! –Marty