vacation angst

This is the first post I've written since I've been on vacation. I'd love to say that I've been too busy frolicking on the beach or soaking in the sun to write, but that's barely the truth. Plain and simple, I've just been lazy. I started journalling for the first two weeks of the trip, and then as soon as I got to Davao, I don't think I've even managed to make a scribble in my journal. The pages sit barren and white, still crisp from neglect.

Most of the time since we've been in Davao has been either spent with the hoardes of cousins (fun! fun! fun!), traipsing all over town with my sister to shop for various wedding acoutrements (yawn), acting as chaperone for my sister and her fiance (terribly old-fashioned, and slightly silly, but bearable nonetheless), or dining with various relatives and friends of the parental units (varying from mildly enjoyable or downright uncomfortable, depending on the dinner companions present). My cousins finally got out of school this week, so we've actually been able to spend more time with them, but since there's little to see or do here, we've primarily been hanging out at the mall since the air conditioned interiors are a welcome reprieve from the sweltering heat outside.

I walked around the city the other day, and nearly gave my aunt a heart attack. I can't decide whether it was because it's deemed low-class to walk around the dusty streets alone, or if she was afraid that I would be kidnapped. She insisted that I get her driver to take me around the city, but after much arguing, I won out and was able to walk around on my own unaccompanied - on the condition that i called her once i got to my destination. She was so much like my mom it was endearing.

That's the tough thing about being here in the Philippines. The heat, grime, and shoddy plumbing, I've sort of gotten used to, or at least come to terms with. The things that I'm having the most difficulty with are my lack of language skills and my inability to get around on my own. True, I can utter a small handful of words and phrases in Tagalog, and a few in Bisaya, but aside from "mag kano to?" (how much is this?), I don't have much other useful vocbulary to boast of. I mean, how far can I get with words like "kamatis" (tomato) and "tubig" (water)? "Tubig ang kamatis daw, po. Salamat. Maligayang Pasko!" (Water with tomato please, sir. Thank you. Merry Christmas!" Yeah. Like I said, useful.

And then there's the matter of getting around. Walking, like I mentioned, seems to be out of the question. Not only is it searingly hot on the dusty roads, but it's pretty unsafe to be a pedestrian. Unless you're a seasoned veteran, the chances of getting run over by vehicles swerving in and out of traffic without regard for people on foot, or being pick-pocketted or nabbed are quite high. Driving is another story altogether. I'm comfortable driving in crazy traffic cities like Philadelphia and New York, but driving in the Philippines is insane. First of all, there are barely any road signs left - making navigation slightly difficult. They've all either rusted or fallen off, never to be replaced again. Secondly, there is little or no regard for traffic regulations. The rule seems to be: 'If you think you can pass, do it! And if you think you can't, honk your horn, and maybe you can intimdate the other drivers around you enough so that you can squeeze your way through.' Today, I was in the car with my cousin, and we witnessed a car losing its sideview mirrors to the traffic whizzing by. The driver simply stopped as one of the passengers got out of the car to pick up the mirror, and they drove off again like it was a daily occurence. No surprise, no kaffuffle. I had to laugh at the ease with which the situation was handled. If it were me, I would have insisted on exchanging license plates, etc.

Another thing that I'm having trouble getting accustomed to is the disparity between the rich and the poor. Everywhere you turn, there are people begging on the streets. In residential areas, at the mall, on the streets, in front of churches. And if you give any change to one, you'd better have enough to supply the masses that swarm around you after you've extended your hand to offer the first donation! The sad thing is, most of the beggars are children. young boys and girls in tattered clothes and barefoot, carrying their crying infant siblings, or holding the hand of a brother whose face is burned beyond recognition. It's heartbreaking to witness, and even more so to have to shoo them away from the door, as they grab onto your pants begging for alms as you try to get into your car or taxi.

But it's not all bad. spending time with faily has been what's made this vacation enjoyable. It's been about five years since I saw most of my cousins, so seeing them now all grown up is pretty exciting. the cousins on my dad's side are all pretty well-off businessmen and women with families f their own, and the cousins on my mom's side are mostly all in college or working. There's a few kiddos thrown in the mix, and they make for the life of the party. And since my dad has ten siblings, and my mom eight, there's plenty of family to go around!

As for the angst, I got an e-mail from the folks in Sweden, and it looks like I won't be moving there anytime soon. For a while, it was sounding like they wanted me to fly to Copenhagen on my way back to Vancouver for a third round of interviews. When it turned out that flights would be more expensive than anticipated and that I wouldn't be able to get there until the new year, I was told that the pool of candidates had been narrowed down to three other local candidates, and that since they wanted to make a decision before Christmas, they would just pick from those three. I can't say that I'm not disappointed, but I guess I know well enough now not to get my hopes up about these sort of things. More than being disappointed about not going to Sweden (or at least flying to Copenhagen for an interview), I'm more upset by the fact that I have to go back to my seemingly dead-end job. Now, I'm even more motivated to find out what opportunities the US has in store for me.

In other angsty news, my sister's finace has suggested that he will be coming back to the Philippines to help with the family business after the wedding, since it seems to be falling apart at the seams. My sister isn't pleased, as "this wasn't part of the plan!" She and I talked for most of the evening, after the two of them got off the phone, hashing out the various possiblilities, and despite her reluctance to move down here, I think she's resigned herself to the fact that she probably should.

"Life never turns out the way we plan for it to," I said in my best Yoda voice.

She responded, "I know. I hate it. I don't want to move back to the Philippines. And get married and have to consider other people aisde from me and my husband. And have to support his family. And pay a mortgage. And their mortgage. And have to start life over again. And figure out how to speak the language. And talk to the help. And get around. And figure out how to get a job. It sucks! And now I have to go pee!"

And with that final exclamation, she collapsed on the bed, heaving a big sigh.

Life is tough. And then you pee.