last days

I’m sitting here in the library waiting for the next section to come for their library orientation. I have nearly finished all sections at the school. My voice is hoarse, my legs are tired, but it has all been worth it. A year of hard work has finally paid off and it’s a bit sad that I have only enjoyed it for the past couple of weeks. It has been truly rewarding to see the students enjoying the books. Their faces light up when I show them all the different types of books. For many of them, it is the first time that they have seen books like these. They are used to the dull, black and white, textbooks distributed by the Department of Education. Most libraries in Ifugao are only stocked with books of these kinds. One of my favorite books to show them is one on dinosaurs. When I open the pages, the room fills with “oohs and ahhhs.” They also get a thrill (and a laugh) when I open the pull out picture of the inside of a human body. We haven’t yet opened the library to the kids during their free time and yet every recess and break the door is filled with students asking if they can come in. The feeling I get now makes up for all the doubts I had, all the questions about whether this project will be a success. Despite all those sleepless nights, stressful days, headaches, you name it, it was all worth it.

I only have 4 more days here in Lamut. I am in a bit of denial that I will soon be miles away from this place I have considered my home for over two years. When I visualize being back in the US, being in the company of my friends and family, it seems like a dream. I honestly can’t believe that in less than a month I will be eating burritos, talking on a cell phone, riding around in a car, and laughing with my friends. I know that it will be wonderful to see everyone again, and eventually I will readjust to American life, but I still can’t help feeling sad that my contract is over. Lately, when I wake up in the morning, I look around my room, listen to the brooms outside, children running to school, the blare of Pinoy news on the TV, and I am content and happy. This is my life, this is my home, and I love it here.

We had a blessing at the house last Sunday. Mama Zonya wanted to have a thanksgiving for the past two years as well as wishing me good luck and good health on my return to the states. We invited the pastor and a few friends of mine (parents of students), and of course my host family. We cooked a bunch of food and I bought 2 gallons of ice cream, bananas, chocolate sauce, and crushed peanuts for banana splits. Like I said, I haven’t really been able to conceive that I am leaving. But at this gathering, it hit me. Mama Z gave a message and my host dad, Beda, followed. Both ended their speech in tears. I was given a chance to respond. I hadn’t prepared anything and considering this was my first and last chance to openly express all my feelings to my family, I kind of blew it. Like always, I started out rambling on, jumping from thing to thing, trying to get it all out at once. I finally collected my thoughts and that is when I broke down. It seemed that saying the words out loud made this parting real and final. Like before it wasn’t really ever going to happen. Until now, it seems I will just be going to Manila for another check up or seminar, and be back again within a couple of weeks. I managed to calm down and I hope that my message expressed how grateful I am to everyone who has been a part of my life here, especially my family. I don’t think I could even come close to telling them how I feel. It’s beyond words. But maybe my break down gave them an idea.

The last week has really been wonderful. Friday I had my despedida (going away party) at the school with all the teachers. I felt awkward being the center of attention and didn’t feel worthy of it all. I am the youngest at the school, in a country where age is highly respected so it was strange to have all this attention lavished on me. At the same time it made me feel that I did make a difference to these teachers. However small my projects were, however few the students were that I taught, I think that I showed these teachers the value of hard work and what can happen when you put your mind to something. I have worked relentlessly on this library and the results of this project are easy to see. I think I can also honestly say that I have supplied them with entertainment to their lives for the past two years. I think I added something exciting to their days, giving them a white face, tall body, and corn-like hair to stare at. I entertained them with countless stories from home, and surely got a few laughs from my cultural faux paus, misunderstandings, and my broken Ilocano. At my party, each grade performed a number (song, dance, or poem) specifically addressed to me. One friend wrote an acrostic poem, another teacher sang “beautiful brown eyes”, and another sang “Leaving on a Jet Plane.” It was all a bit goofy. I sat alone in a chair in the middle of the room while everyone gave their message or number to me. Although a bit overdone, I appreciated it so much. I feel their gratitude for my presence and am confident that I was appreciated here. This party also gave Mama Z the chance to see my role at the school. She has spent two years listening to all my problems with work and probably was a bit uncertain if I was truly appreciated it. This was proven not only with the messages but the numerous gifts. And despite my full suitcase, I am going to find a way to take home every last piece, including the “God Bless This House” weaving and the Spanish-style lace top. Tomorrow, for one last laugh, I plan on wearing every last piece.

My other days have been spent enjoying the company of my friends and those people that I have become close to over the years. I’ve been taking long walks in the mornings, stopping to have coffee with people along the road. I have been invited to numerous lunches, dinners, and get-togethers and have been staying up late to hang out with my family. My days are numbered and I feel an air of sadness in our home. My hope is that by Friday, when I have my final party with my family, we can put that all aside and just enjoy ourselves.

I’ve tried my best to express myself through my blog the past two years. I really hope you have some understanding of my life here. I hope I have at least given you a small idea of what it’s like here in the Philippines and I hope that you can get a feel for the people I have shared my life with. Now at the end, I feel a loss for words. I don’t know what I can say to do these people any justice. They are the warmest, friendliest, most hospitable people I have ever met. They take the time for each other and they take the time to enjoy life. Nothing in their lives is certain so they don’t take time together for granted. I am about to go home to a place where time is of utmost importance, where people don’t stop to talk or chat, where people aren’t interested in where you are going or where you have been, and where you often don’t even know your neighbors. I am going back to a place where I will no longer be considered special. I won’t have strangers greeting me with “Madam” and I won’t have masses of children shouting my name. I have been pampered and doted on here. Not only by Mama Zonya, but by the 30 women I work with who treat me like their pet. And while it drove me nuts and I fought it for at least the first year here, I am going to miss all the affection, the special gifts, being treated to meriendas (snacks). Just now, one of my favorite teachers came in with a native bag for carrying your lunch to the rice fields. It was filled with oranges from their farm. She told me how grateful that I was here with them and that I was their Princess Diana in their hearts. What she said was over the top, and I by no means compare myself to her (ha ha). But this is just an example of all the sweet attention I have received by these women. When I go home, I have to hold my own; I will be just another face in the crowd.

I love you all and my homecoming will be incredible but leaving here is bittersweet.