infinite cebu

Home sweet home, the city of sprawling call centers and NGOs galore; a place filled with small-town dreamers and lifers with no escape. A hub for trafficking and exploitation, the port center of the nation. A hopeless domicile for squatters; an emerging HIV/AIDS problem. The heart of the Visayas, pumping idealism in the face of harsh realities. A metropolis filled with accommodation and generosity. The strength and resilience of a nation radiates amongst jeepney conductors and businessmen alike. Cebu is laughing, full of cheer and optimism. I just might have to join them. This place will eat me alive if I don’t. Value family and friends, all I have. Keep my mind on what is within my sphere of influence, lightheartedly of course. This is where my life has rooted and will stay for the next 18 months. My home, my Cebu.

At the end of April I spent the longest away from my site thus far, eight days. Three days to roam Manila in the midst of Holy Week. The capitol turned into a ghost town that Good Friday, with people fleeing home to the provinces or to vacation at a tropic hot spot. Little traffic, people, or businesses open. A warm, sunny day for strolling in Rizal Park and on Roxas Boulevard. Businesses began opening again Saturday but still no outdoor market to venture to. I did have an event to look forward to, a pre-Easter pool party/BBQ at the US Ambassadors house. I guess it was as “casual” as government socials go. Workers from the Embassy, State Department, USAID, and Peace Corps mingled over the American spread in a sprawling, outdoor patio. Us PCVs soaking in the luxury of the kind accommodation. Easter Sunday was less than eventful; consisting of eating Mexican and Indian food and resting. Next year I hope to venture to one of the renowned Holy Week festivals to experience the expression of culture in this highly Catholicized country.

 From Manila, I headed back to the resort where I first had PC orientation, this time for IST (In-service training) and PDM (Project Design & Management) workshop; by far the most grueling and mentally exhausting trainings thus far. My counterpart from EDC, a full-time Filipino volunteer, joined me for planning our strategy for linking out-of school youth with vocational programs. It was his first time on an airplane and to Manila; also the first formal training in his work as a community mobilizer. Not by surprise, he worked hard while providing much needed humor to the long sessions. It was impressive to see all the counterparts participating in the mostly English sessions, with little Tagalog interjected. The Philippines is probably the only Peace Corps post where trainings can be facilitated in English. Good for PCVs, challenging for HCNs. We took away a great strategy to an upcoming project with an ever-strengthening work relationship.

I certainly feel relieved to be back for an indefinite time. No more trainings or workshops, at least for the foreseeable future. I certainly am using the tools I learned from the HIV/AIDS workshop and PDM training back at site. It’s nice to feel useful rather than a body floating in and out of the pool of volunteers at work. Now I’ve been back in good old Cebu for a week and a half. A stressful time full of grant writing and reports, and trying to adjust to unexpected last minute changes and demands. I’ll push through, I always do. It will pay off when the CABRAD, youth vocation, HIV/AIDS, and environmental education activities all come together. For now, my eyes are glued to my computer hammering away at proposals.

I the midst of all this, I am soaking up as much time with my two close friends before they move onto greener pastures next week. An American volunteer, with an anti-trafficking NGO, heading back to the Bay area and a Filipina, recently hired by Quatar Airways, moving to Doha. I will miss our (mis)adventures that offer a fun relief to PCV life. I still have a great network of PCVs and non-PCVs all around. I’ll survive.