There’s a beauty to going someplace new—someplace you don’t yet know that doesn’t know you, where anything can be. But, there’s also something beautiful to returning someplace familiar where people know you, where people have shared moments of their lives with you and you with them.
Olongapo has to be one of the worst cities you could imagine in the world. Just think what would happen if you allowed thousands of, mostly young, military men desperate to escape conflict and in need of female companionship to lay out a city. That’s what Olongapo is. Since it’s creation is has grown and expanded without, it appears, a hint of urban planning. One club in top of the other for streets upon streets. Said streets are filled with so many exhaust pouring vehicles that within literally a few minutes of my arrival (while I was still on the bus, but it had open windows) my fingernails were filled with black something or another. There is garbage everywhere and it’s impossible to escape the, often sour, sounds of videoke spilling from the grungy clubs through flimsy house walls into your space. Girls are displayed on the street prepped for auction and the smell of cheap alcohol suffocates you anytime a man you’ve never met comes near you to serenade you with a song. The city is hot, it’s all the cement and the lack of trees, and shit river reeks of a stench that accurately describes its title.
Yet, there was something peaceful about being getting off the bus and fighting against the all too aggressive offers for a trike ride. There was something safe about weaving through this ally and that to reach a jeepney stop. There was something refreshing about driving down Magsaysay Ave and inhaling the amount of toxins a cigarette addict might ingest over a years time in only a matter of minutes. I was back to the place that first welcomed me to, or forced me to accept, the Philippines.
Before I went to my host families’ house I admit I ventured across the bridge into SBMA in order to get a vegetabe sandwhich. It was worth the trek through the eerie establishment. I was astonished how much has changed in just four months. There is a market where the entrance to SBMA used to be. The old mall is torn down. A new mall is built. The lady I would give food every time I walked to SBMA was gone. I met an American woman, my first one that isn’t in the peace corps or a missionary (actually she made me pretty upset cause she dropped 45 pesos in the jeepney behind the seat cushion and instead of trying to get it she said “don’t worry about it, it’s only some change.” That change could buy me lunch for a week at my site. She then talked about how her husband gambles 10,000,000 pesos a day at the casino. That’s more than I earn in a month and certainly more than many Filipinos make in a month, yet she had no sense of gratitude for the money or realization of what they were taking for granted and throwing away).
I then ventured to my house. I have no idea how many people live in Olongapo, but it’s a decent sized city. By decent, I mean it’s pretty large. The point is, as I was walking I ran into two people I knew. It was so nice to see their faces and to see that they remembered me. then the pandasal lady I would always buy from saw me walk by and asked me a lot about my site and how I’m doing there and what not. It was such a good feeling to see these people again.
I continued walking and noticed more changes. There used to be a house next to ours. It was just a shanty, but still, someone lived there. It has been destroyed to build a large apartment complex. This made me sad, but luckily later in the night I saw the little boy who used to live there.
Then I got into my house and was welcomed by my host sisters and host mom. I really missed them and couldn’t believe how nice it was to see them again. I then was informed that my host mom is pregnant. 4 months. That means right after I left. They have asked me to be the godmother, so in October I’ll return for the baptism. I can’t believe it. my host dad wanted to have a son but my host mom had said no more kids. I figured there would be no more kids. I never even imagined she would be pregnant the next time I saw her. They are all thrilled and have decided to name him (I don’t know what they’ll do if it’s a she) Renz. My host dad’s name is Randy and my host mom’s name is Liza, so they took the R and the Z to get Renz. There are also two new families in my house, both of which are very friendly and comfortable people for me. My host dad now also sells French fries, my old room is empty. And on a walk I saw the lady from the bridge now sleeps a few blocks away. She was surrounded by cats as she was sleeping. It reminded me how incredible the relationships between animals and people are.
The biggest, and most heartbreaking, change for me is that one of the girls who stays in one of the other rooms is no longer here. If I remember correctly she is about 18. Everyone is excited cause she got a job in Subic as a dancer. Subic is not a good place for a girl as stunning and young as she is to be a dancer. She apparently works at a place called the white rock and I’m not sure anyone realizes what she is doing there. They say she dances and models, but I’m afraid the truth isn’t as simple as that. All I could imagine are all those gambling old drunken white men. It makes me disgusted, and it makes me want to freeze my host sisters in their young ages where they still jump around and laugh and sing. I pray that they will never be in the same position.
I think I just wanted to write this because it’s all crazy. So much has changed and happened in such a short period of time. I feel I’m in a coma of time on Anda. I never know what is happening anywhere in the world, let alone anywhere else in the Philippines. And not that the destruction of one mall and the creation of another is really all that noteworthy, but it makes me realize how much other things will probably change before I come back to the states. Several friends have gotten married, and will continue to get married before I return. Babies will be born and little kids will grow up. Things as simple as music will change. The places that once looked familiar to me will be different. That’s a strange thing to realize.
I get angry when people say they joined the peace corps cause they weren’t ready for real life yet. I hate those words. Real life. of course this is real life. it’s real life for so many people. It’s not some fictitious place with imagined people and stories and events. But, it’s true to an extent. If real life means the life you can talk about with other people, the life you live and work through with other people, then this isn’t exactly real. Actually, I’ll save this for a different post.
The other thing I realized is maybe being in a place you become immune to realizing the change around you. maybe Olongapo changed a lot while I was here but because it happened day after day I didn’t notice it. it was subtle. How much is happening around us everyday that we don’t notice, that we don’t take the time to observe?but at the same time things are the same. Jo-el still sleeps under the stairs. the toilet still leaks all over the cr floor. i still wake up to basketball games outside my house. i still sneak into mdonalds to steal their wifi.
Time is in constant motion but always still
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