I survived my first typhoon.

Sunday, my second night in the PI, I awoke to hear random loud noises banging on the roof and the roar of the wind that I have never heard before. It was a typhoon. I found out later from my uncle that the random banging noise was mangos falling from the tree.

I awoke in the morning to find two of my cousins still splashing in the pool in the back. There’s a typhoon. They’re in a pool. I stared at them for a few minutes and discovered, apparently, this is not unusual. I certainly do not want to disrespect their leisure activities, but I wanted to yell, “Dude – there’s a TYPHOON going on. Get out of the pool!”

The typhoon flooded many parts of Manila and surrounding provinces, but the area I am in was fine, except for trees falling, and my first brownout (when all the electricity goes out). I love that they call them brownouts instead of blackouts.

I went to church with my uncle that morning and sat in a big beautiful church. During the petitions the electricity went out and the roar of the wind got even louder. It phased no one. Well, except me. My eyes darted to the open windows and swaying chandeliers. My prayers were fervent.

On Monday, my cousins dropped me off at my dormitory at the University of the Philippines (UP) where I met the other members of the group. It was then I heard that 4 others dropped out at last minute and there was only 9 of us total. Only one is male. Phillipe is on this trip with 8 other women, ages 18-35. It’s quite a mix, but we get along fantastically. Navigating the city and UP is always an adventure.
Our orientation consisted of reviewing our schedules and getting our bearings of the campus. The group teases me incessantly by saying I am too uptight about germs, safety, and cleanliness. I packed up my laptop and camera with me everywhere we go. (Hello, like I would leave my digital SLR anywhere without me?) I don’t drink the ice, tap water, or eat salads in the restaurants. They laugh and say I’m paranoid. I just shake my head when they drink the tap water with ice. If they knew what a parasite in your stomach feels like that won’t leave for 3 days, they wouldn’t be so careless. I went through that seven years ago and some days I believe I have not yet psychologically recovered from how many trips to the bathroom I made in a 3-day span.

I went to Nicaragua for three months in 2000 and returned twice since then. My experiences there are affording me invaluable knowledge and confidence as I navigate a new country with similar economic struggles and political history. The PI is a tropical country with beautiful landscapes and people. Their problems, as I am learning, are complex and interrelated to the US and its policies. Today was our first day of lectures and classes and the intellectual stimulation has been remarkable. The classes are taught by world renowned poets, top professors, and experienced sociologists who keep me writing, thinking, and questioning. I am finding this experience to be as transformative as I had hoped, and it’s only been the first day of class!

Last night, the group went to the Mall of Asia, which is, as you can guess, the largest mall in all of Asia – what creativity went into naming this place! The PI is ironically known for its gigantic malls and commercialization, but I wasn’t ready for the mall of Asia. It was so enormous, there’s no way to describe it over a computer. Inside, I was able to exchange money, 43 pesos for every dollar. As you can imagine, the dollar goes a long way. It took forever to get a taxi, but when we got a driver, it cost $5 for a 15-20 minute drive. There were five of us in the car. My Boston ears couldn’t believe it. I nearly flipped with joy. A ten minute ride in Boston is nearly $30!

UP is a huge campus and we took a tour, by foot, that covered about a quarter of the campus and three hours of our lives. I nearly fell asleep in the grass by the end. The heat is hard to transition, even though it was summer in the US when I left, being this close to the equator is something else. Kris, another member of the group, and I were up at 6am (not unusual when the sun rises so early) and went for a light jog. We weren’t even jogging for 10 minutes when we looked at each other and saw that we were drenched in sweat. Our legs looked like faucets and our arms like brown Slip and Slides. But, it felt good to get some fitness in our day. It’s waaaaay too easy to sit in our air conditioned rooms after eating a wonderful meal for $1.25.

On Friday, we’ll be moving into our apartments, which are a few minutes off campus. There we will have WIFI and a land line. We’re all eager to have regular internet access. Everyone can tell we’re from the US when we ask people where we can set up our laptops to check our emails and blog about our travels.

I am pretty much adjusted to the time change, but not quite yet. I’m sleeping well, but wake up once or twice to itch my bug bites. I wake up relatively early, sometime between 5am-6am. (Nick probably read that sentence twice.) I’m VERY ready to get into my apartment, unpack and have my own permanent space. (Err, permanent means the next 6 weeks). The more I am exposed to, the more I am learning, the more 6 weeks seems so brief. There’s so much beauty and richness to this country and I’m so proud this is my parents’ homeland. And I give myself a pat on my back for having made this pilgrimage myself.

Growing up Filipino in the US, a child of immigration, is an in-depth consuming journey of self-identity. It encompasses constant reflection and self-analysis. It is quite an remarkable experience to be in a country where I look just like everyone else. The reflection of myself in this country is…what’s the right word?….unfathomable. It is the experience I have been waiting for and wanting my entire life: to passionately understand with clarity and awareness, who I am, who my family is, and where I have come from. Few are able to make a journey such as this. Few even ask questions such as this. I feel very graced and blessed to experience this. The questions that I have held, long in my heart, are surfacing each minute I am here.

I am finding myself.

I made it.

I’m in the Philippines. Specifically, I am in the capital city, Manila.

I’ll put this out there right now so you are aware – I’m so jetlagged, I can barely walk straight. But I have found my way to a computer and just wanted to write that I am well, happy, and slowly getting aligned with the time change.

The Philippines is 12 hours ahead of Eastern standard time. As I write this, it’s about 10pm on Saturday evening, so it should be about 10am Saturday morning in the US.

My travels began with a 24 hour traveling period, layovers included. Chicago was a breeze, naturally, but it was the flight to Japan that messed me up pretty bad. I has a window seat and was next to a very friendly young woman who repeatedly asked me to help her with her television screen (we all had our own). I was not much help, particularly when I was engrossed in watching The Other Boelyn Girl (very good movie, by the way).

The only problem is when she fell asleep for six hours and I, unusually, could not fall asleep. She had the aisle seat, so I had to get creative when I wanted to stretch my legs. I practically threw my right leg over the seat in front of me to get my blood flowing. My seat was in the back corner of the plane with no one behind me, so for about an hour, I perched on my knees and did quasi-yoga stretches in my seat. I felt fine until the last two hours of the flight. My feet looked like two basketballs, they swelled so much. I was worried until I saw other flip-flop wearing travelers and discovered other basketballed sized feet next to me.

Arriving in Manila was interesting. Customs was a breeze, but I was worrying about finding my Uncle and cousins. I didn’t worry too much when I was walking slowly down the ramp when I spotted someone looking eagerly at me. I tentatively smiled back and then he screamed, “LISAAAAAA!” I thought that was quite a Factora thing to do, so I trusted that was my cousin George. I was right, he led me to my Uncle, who was waiting with a very air conditioned car. (Nice.)

To say I was nervous would be the understatement of the year. Nearly everyone here in Manila speaks English, but going anywhere unfamiliar is always anxiety provoking and stressful. My family here, most of whom I have just met for the first time, has been more than welcoming and friendly. My Uncle, who runs a construction company, he built his home 30 years ago here in Manila and it is so beautiful. This morning, I sat with my Auntie Ina, and talked government, politics and updated her on the US presidential campaign while I ate fresh mango and listened to the rain. Not many mornings can be that beautiful.

I took two naps today. The first for an hour, the second for four. I never intended to fall asleep, let alone twice, but my body still feels like it’s in Boston, or Cleveland, or wherever time is set on the other side of the world. I’ve woken up in five or six different places in the past two weeks and my brain has been utterly confused in my warped life as of late. I woke up this morning and thought, “Now, where the heck am I? Is Nick already up?”

It’s going to be hard to blog about, aka update you on Nick, when we are apart for these next two months. What I can say is that our goodbye at the airport was awful. I cried like a big baby and could barely control my tear ducts. Such a pitiful sight, the ticketing agent had to pause the line to get me some tissues because I was crying so hard. Oh, I must have looked awesome.

Separation is never fun, but Nick was and is his usual supportive self; always looking on the bright side, encouraging me to remember the reasons why I applied for the program in the first place, and reminding me how temporary the situation is in the big picture of our life together. Our last few days together were spent moving into our new home, where I was able to make memories for about two and a half days before I left. My concept of home is wherever Nick is and I find myself thanking God, repeatedly, for such a supportive and loving partner.

So far, the only small things that have posed problems has been the very loud rooster that runs around the land and occasionally through the house. Not even my earplugs can drown that thing. Holy cow, it’s the loudest thing I’ve ever heard. Also, there is Lucky, one of the few dogs around the house. This thing has got eyes the size of UFOs. He stares at me intently and I try to ignore him, and his smell. I gently kicked him out of the way when my other Auntie was making her way onto the porch in her wheelchair. The kick felt justified because he was in her way. I think the Borchers anti-dog sentiments might have rubbed off on me.

My family here is inquisitive about Nick, my Borchers family, and what my life in the US is like. I’m showing them pictures and explain where everyone is. Sometimes they get so eager to hear my stories, they cut me off and finish my sentence before I’m through. Here’s an example. My cousin Paulo is a lawyer here and works for a firm doing litigation. I share, “My sister in law, Kelly, is a lawyer too – Nick’s sister. She works for the government.” Before I can explain she works in Columbus, Ohio, my other cousins exclaim and tell my Uncle, “Kelly is a lawyer for the District Attorney in Washington, D.C.!”

I try to interject, “Oh, no, she doesn’t work in -“

My Uncle, “Really! D.C?!” He speaks in Tagalog, which means he is impressed.

I give up after a few minutes of their talking about how Kelly works in D.C. Everyone in my family loves talking politics and we move on to the happenings in D.C., where, apparently, Kelly now works.

So, my first day has been quite eventful. Tomorrow, I check-in at the University of the Philippines where I will be staying for the next six weeks of my program. I’m excited to continue to adjust to my new surroundings and even more excited for my body to get with it and adjust to the time change.

Love from Manila!