On being home

It's 4.00 a.m. in the morning and despite how tired I feel I am wide awake. Jet lag. The seven hour time difference between the Philippines and the UK means my body thinks it's 11.00 a.m. and way past the time for sleeping. Last night I fought the tiredness I felt in the evening and stayed up until after 10.00 p.m. in an effort to get back into a normal sleep pattern again. Clearly it's not working yet...

Jet lag is not the only thing I'm wrestling with as I adjust to being home after three months away. I always liken that first 48 hours or so of 're-entry' to an out-of body experience (not that I've ever had one of those!). My body is in the UK but a large part of my heart and head is still full of where I've been. I have to adjust all over again to things that are so familiar because they haven't been part of my world in the last few months. My world has been very different.

So I'm getting used to:

• Sleeping without ear plugs. The world outside my window in rural Cumbria is a quiet one compared to the life lived on the streets of Leyte. There are no motorbikes roaring up and down the street. There are no dogs barking. There is no karaoke bar. No one is sweeping the street, chatting loudly to their neighbour as the new day dawns.
• Drinking tea without ants. The ubiquitous tiny brown ants that have a surprisingly sharp nip are no longer floating to the surface of my morning cup of tea.
• Taking a shower under hot running water. No more lukewarm (but not quite warm enough) bucket showers for me for a while.
• Drinking cold running water from the tap. Filtered water is the norm whenever I am overseas and despite the luxury of now having drinking water literally 'on tap' I am still dehydrated. In a hot climate drinking water all day long becomes the norm but when the temperature is cooler the immediate thirst is not there. My body can't seem to adjust that quickly to this lack of water and the combination of tiredness and dehydration feels a bit like having a constant hangover (not that I've had one of those for many years...).
• Not sweating while just sitting. It's spring in the UK and although the sun may be shining by no stretch of the imagination could the temperature be described as even being 'warm'. There is a distinct chill in the air and as long as I remember that I now need several layers of clothing to keep warm all will be well.
• Walking down the street and not hearing 'hi' shouted at me by every child I pass, to which the expected response is 'hi' and a high-five.
• Not being with the friends I've made and the colleagues I've worked with over the last few months. The toughest part of coming home is having to say goodbye to the people who have enriched and touched my life, not knowing if our paths will ever cross again.

And so much more, including a house with carpets, driving on the left, no rats in the kitchen, no cockroaches in the bathroom, TV, a comfortable sofa to sit on, it not getting dark until gone 9.00 p.m., fast internet, a reliable mobile phone network, no power cuts, no water shut-offs, doors that open and close easily because they are not warped by the constant humidity, not eating rice, flushing toilet paper down the toilet. The list goes on and on.

I feel so privileged to have the opportunity to experience something of life lived in another small corner of the world. It just seems to take a while for my body and mind to get used to the differences. Now, let's see if I can get back to sleep...

Transforming a house into a home

This is Leena's* story. She is just one of the many people Medair is helping here in the Philippines and it seems a fitting story for my last blog post from this fascinating country.

Leena is a single mother with five children who lost her home during Typhoon Yolanda. In the first phase of the project Medair provided her with a basic house structure but she did not have means to complete it. She did the best she could but it wasn't really a good environment for the family to live in.

This year Medair is returning to families like Leena's and is providing them the materials they need to finish their houses. If necessary, we are also paying for a carpenter to do the needed work.

The materials are delivered

Within two days, and after some hard work by a small team of carpenters, the house that Leena and her family have been living in for nearly a year is virtually unrecognisable.

Inside there are separate areas for preparing food and for sleeping.

The family finally have somewhere they can truly call HOME.

* not her real name

All photographs in this blog post by Edsel Delopere / Medair Philippines

What's cooking?

On my arrival in the Philippines a few months ago one of the first things I learnt about was lechon. The people of the Philippines seem to love their food and lechon is one of the favourite dishes: sold in the street and served at all special occasions.

It is a young pig of about six months old that is seasoned, skewered and roasted whole on a spit for several hours. I have seen lechon stalls in the streets of Tacloban. Some have a cooked pig on display, while others just have the slices of meat waiting to be purchased. Until this week I hadn't seen the actual cooking process.

On Friday our neighbours at the office were cooking lechon in their back yard. The pig had been skewered with a large bamboo cane and two men were cooking it over an open fire. One man was constantly turning the pig to ensure it was cooked right through while the other was keeping the charcoal hot beneath it by adding dried coconut shells to the fire pit.

A few hours later we were informed that the lechon was ready so work stopped again to go and see what happens next. The head and two front legs had been removed and were sitting on a table.

The rest of the pig was lying on banana leaves on another table and one of the men was hacking it into pieces using a very large machete.

It seemed only right that I should taste this local delicacy so we purchased a kilogram for PHP 320 (about $7 USD or £5 GBP). There was no discussion about cuts of meat. We got the next kg the man cut away from the carcass - skin, fat, bones, meat and all...

I'm told, by others, that this was not the best lechon. By the time we ate it at lunchtime the skin had turned chewy rather than being crunchy and for me there was a lot of fat and bone to pick through to get to the meat (although my Philippine colleagues didn't seem to distinguish between meat and fat). But the meat was tasty and I couldn't really have left the country without tasting their national dish, freshly prepared and cooked right next door.

Easter Getaway

The Easter holiday in the Philippines runs from Thursday to Sunday and, due to the country's Roman Catholic heritage, it is probably the most important holiday of the year for many people. It is a time to spend with the family and to participate in the various church services that take place over the four days.

For me and my colleague Esther it was an opportunity to take a break away from work and to explore another part of Leyte Island. The office and the team house where we live are just 200 metres apart at opposite ends of the same street and so it is not uncommon for the majority of our time from Monday to Friday to be split between these two locations. I may be living on the other side of the world but the demands of work often mean I only see a very small part of that world.

We booked a three-night stay at a diving resort in Southern Leyte near the town of Padre Burgos. We had no intention of going diving but as this area is known for its diving sites most of the resorts are aimed at divers. On Thursday morning we left Dulag and drove south and within a relatively short distance you could see the landscape changing. Dulag and the area to the north towards the city of Tacloban were right in the path of Typhoon Yolanda (Haiyan) and the devastation caused by the typhoon and the accompanying storm surge is evident all around you. In the collapsed buildings, the missing roofs, the on-going construction, the blown down trees, the coconut palms missing their tops: everywhere you look you are reminded of that event. But further south is a different picture. It is less built up, less industrialised, which also makes a difference but I was struck by how many more coconut palms there were, how much greener, how much less 'broken' everywhere looked.

We had been invited to call in at the home of one of our suppliers on the way and so after an hour of travelling over the mountains that run down the middle of the island we arrived at her home on the west coast. The Philippine people are very hospitable and very generous and breakfast had been prepared for us and what a breakfast it turned out to be: fish, shrimps, mashed potato, salad, bread, watermelon, coffee. If we had not stopped eating I think she would have just kept on bringing out more food!

As we left we were presented with two cake boxes "for the journey". Her daughter is a baker and had prepared us blueberry cheesecake and some kind of mango desert. We accepted them with great thanks for her generosity although we were both wondering what on earth we were going to do with them*

Then it was back on the road for a further two hours drive to reach our destination. And what a destination! It was like being in a different world. Beautiful clear blue sea, the coral beach, the only sounds were the waves on the shore and the breeze blowing through the trees. This was a great place to get away to! On Friday we went out on a boat with the divers. We sailed across Sogod Bay and while some people went diving I went snorkeling. It was stunning. The corals were just so alive - vibrant in colour and teeming with so many fish of all shapes, sizes and colours.

Most of the rest of the weekend was spent relaxing by the sea, reading, sleeping and enjoying the view.

As we were on the west coast the sunsets were spectacular.

 

And on Saturday evening there was a partial lunar eclipse.

It was a weekend of rest, relaxation and awe-inspiring beauty - the perfect Easter getaway!

* We gave the cakes to the manager of the resort and asked him to share them with the staff - I hope he did!

Tourist Attraction

We have a visitor from HQ with us this week and as part of his Philippines experience he came with us on our usual Saturday trip into Tacloban.

It takes about an hour to drive to the city: 30 minutes to get to the outskirts and then another 30 minutes battling the traffic to get into the city centre. The congestion is not as bad as in some of the other places I have lived (such as Kampala or Nairobi) but the combination of pedestrians, pedicabs, motor tricycles, jeepneys (the local buses) and cars make for slow progress through the narrow streets.

Despite the tedious journey it's good to have a change of scenery after a week spent living and working in the same street. We usually go to a cafe and enjoy good coffee, tasty food and free wi-fi before heading to the supermarket to do the weekly food shopping.

In an effort to show our visitor something of the area we also stopped at what would seem to be one of the few tourist attractions in the area. The MacArthur Landing Site is the place where US troops, led by General MacArthur, landed in October 1944 to liberate the Philippines from the Japanese occupation. It would seem to be a popular place to visit. There were lots of people enjoying the park that has been created there: flying kites, walking along the seafront, eating ice cream, reading the plaques that describe the historic events, admiring the monument.

I imagine this park, which is so close to the sea, was badly damaged during Typhoon Yolanda and the subsequent storm surge that devastated so much of this area. So it is interesting to see that it has already been restored and reopened - a good reminder of the importance of leisure activities in people's recovery from devastating events.

The area is also known as MacArthur Park, so yes, I've had that song going around in my head ever since...

To catch a rat

I’m on a crusade. I have a mission. This is war.

I have become determined to rid our team house of the rats living in the ceiling. In many ways we live quite harmoniously together. They are not particularly visible house guests. Heidi frequently complains that she is kept awake by their scurrying around above her bedroom at night. Sometimes one of us will spot a flash of movement and see a long tail disappearing through a gap in the woodwork between wall and ceiling. Occasionally we will find a food package has been nibbled. But just knowing they are there is enough for me to want to be rid of them.

We already had a rat trap as this is not the first time that rodents have been an issue either in the house or at the office. However, rat traps in the Philippines seem to be of the humane variety so what we have is more akin to a cage with a narrow entry, and a one way platform that drops when pressure is applied to it and acts as an entrance to the section from which there is no return. Personally I would prefer a trap that immediately kills its victim as somehow I prefer the idea of dealing with a dead rat rather than a live one.

It's a rat trap...

I first set the trap with cheese but after several days the only interest was from the ants. One of the team suggested maybe a stronger cheese was required and offered her garlic and onion cream cheese. Worth a try, I thought, but still there was no sign of the rat. The third attempt was with peanut butter mixed with dried dog food (how we come to have dried dog food is another story but we know the rats like it because there is evidence of them nibbling at the bag it is kept in at the office).

Three times I put down the bait and three times it disappeared. Clearly the rat was now interested but, despite the fact I kept putting the bait in a slightly different place in the trap, it was also way too smart to get caught. At this point I decided that all I was succeeding in doing was fattening up the rat and so I stopped baiting the trap while I planned my next strategy. And then, last Sunday afternoon, with no bait in sight, rat number 1 was caught. I like to think I had trained him to expect there to be food in the trap and then curiosity and temptation got the better of him and he finally allowed himself to fall into the trap.

... and you've been caught!

So now the dilemma of what to do with it. I’d been told that previously caught rats had been given to the guards to dispose of so I carried the cage outside. The guard on duty that day was clearly unsure what he should do as I presented him with the rat in the trap. After a few moments hesitation he said ‘Ma’am I will take it’. Did he mean he wanted it as a pet (I have to admit this one did have quite a cute face)? Was he perhaps going to eat it (I know that’s what some people do in Chad when they catch a rat)? Then he said ‘You wait’ and got on his bicycle and cycled off down the street holding the handlebars with one hand and the rat trap with the other. He returned after about 10 minutes with the now empty rat trap and informed me he had left the rat at the church. I felt a momentary sense of guilt about giving our rat to the Roman Catholics but more than anything I felt relieved that there was one less rat in our house.

Round two of the battle began on Friday evening. Part of me was hoping that there had only ever been one rat but I know that is unlikely and so I was not surprised on Saturday morning to see that the bait had disappeared. Undeterred I baited the trap again and within a few hours I was rewarded with another catch. As I carried the cage outside I was met by the three workmen who were taking a break from their work repairing the roof. They were immediately fascinated by the rat in the trap and although they speak limited English they did manage three words: ‘mouse’ (no, it’s a rat), ‘video’ (really? You want to film it on your phone?) and ‘dead’ (phew, they are going to kill it).

They then proceeded to fetch a bucket and were obviously going to fill it with water so I deduced that this was going to be death by drowning for the rat. However, they then realised that the bucket might not be big enough for the cage. As they attempted to see if it would fit somehow the platform that was keeping the rat trapped got knocked and, seizing his opportunity and almost faster than the eye could see, the rat was out of the cage and gone. It ran into the room where the workmen are staying and despite giving chase they were unable to catch it again. I feel even worse about giving a rat to these men than I did about giving one to the church but they didn’t seem to mind. I’m also thinking it hasn’t gone very far from where it has been living and will maybe find its way home…

The one that got away

As I write the trap is baited for round three. It feels like I have won two small battles this week – I’m just not sure I’m winning the war.

Earthquake

Last Sunday evening, at around 11.00 p.m. there was an earthquake. I was in bed, in that halfway state between wakefulness and sleeping, when I felt the house (and my bed) shake. It only lasted a second or two and was accompanied by a rumbling sound, like distant thunder. I've had similar experiences in other countries and although, at the time, it was a strange sensation it was over very quickly and it wasn't long before I was asleep.

In the morning as I walked to the office I met our cleaner with her young son, aged about 4 or 5. She told me that her son was late for school because the whole family had been awake for several hours in the night, following the earthquake, as they waited anxiously to the radio listening for a tsunami warning. As I talked to other colleagues as they arrived for work it became clear that quite a number of them had also been similarly unnerved by the earthquake.

We are by the coast and there are signs up in every neighbourhood giving information about where people should go in the event of a tsunami warning and how far it is to what is deemed to be a safe place. However, I certainly hadn't thought that Sunday evening's small tremor would cause a tsunami.

Which made me wonder:

• am I the uninformed and naive foreigner who doesn't understand the potential level of danger, or
• have the local population been so traumatised by recent acts of nature that anything that has the potential to cause more death and destruction is terrifying to them?

Both questions probably contain some level of truth.

What am I doing here?

If, having seen the title of this post, you are hoping to read an existential theory about the meaning of life then I am sorry to have to disappoint you. If, however, you are interested in what I am doing with Medair in the Philippines then please read on.

On 8^th November 2013 Super Typhoon Haiyan, known locally as Yolanda, struck the Philippines causing widespread destruction. It is estimated that around 6000 people were killed, a million homes were damaged or destroyed and four million people were displaced.

Much of the initial relief effort focussed on Tacloban City, which was home to over 200,000 people and was virtually decimated by the high winds and the resulting storm surge (a wall of water with waves up to 25 feet in some places). There was widespread destruction across Leyte Island and Medair decided to work in Dulag Municipality, which is around 30 kms south of Tacloban.

The path of Typhoon Yolanda, tracking east to west.
The first place where it struck landfall is pretty much where I am right now.

After an initial programme, which built 600 houses for the most vulnerable in the community, we are now in the second phase which has four main objectives: 

1. To build a further 1080 houses for others whose homes were completely destroyed
2. To provide building materials and training to another 1200 households whose homes were severely damaged and who do not otherwise have the means to repair them
3. To return to the 600 houses built in the initial phase and provide assistance, where necessary, to improve them
4. To give all these households training and equipment to help them protect their homes in any future typhoon

Here are some pictures to show what the houses look like in the various stages of construction.

Laying the foundations

The house starts to take shape

Almost finished. Here the owner is cementing the area in front of their new home

A mother and child - happy to show off their new home

None of this can be done without money, staff and materials and that is where I come in. My responsibilities are to oversee the Finance, HR and Logistics activities of the programme. These are often the ‘hidden’ elements of any programme, but are essential to its smooth running.

• Every penny (or in this case peso) spent has to be accounted for
• We are currently employing 166 local people, half of them carpenters who are building the houses
• Sourcing, storing and transporting all the materials required to build or repair nearly 3000 homes is a significant undertaking

As the programme is scheduled to be finished by September this year a lot of progress has already been made and I am following on with the work done by others before me. It’s challenging, busy and diverse work, which I’ll blog about in more detail another time. 

Maybe one day I’ll also write about the meaning of life – but I wouldn’t hold your breath waiting for that post…!

10 random things...

…I’ve learnt about life in The Philippines since arriving here just over two weeks ago.

1. Karaoke is VERY popular.
 
2. You do not put toilet paper down the toilet – you dispose of it in the bin provided.
 
3. Clothes are dried by hanging them outside your house on hangars. I’m so used to seeing second-hand clothes for sale on the streets in East Africa that it took me a few days to realise these clothes were not for sale…
 
4. A favourite dish is lechon. This is a young pig (about six months old) that is cooked whole on a spit.
 
5. The most common form of public transport is the pedicab. This is a bicycle with a side-car and a typical journey will cost 5 pesos (about £0.07p or $0.11)

 
6. There are a lot of dogs. Most of these are strays although some do seem to belong to people. They all wander the streets during the day and night, fighting and barking.
 
7. Food can often be an unusual mix of sweet and savoury. Bread is usually sweet and finding cheese in a fruit salad was an ‘interesting’ taste sensation!
 
8. Cock fighting is a popular sport, drawing large crowds to purpose-built auditorium.
 
9. Each town or city is divided into smaller districts, known as Barangay. Each Barangay has its own council along with a ‘Multi-Purpose Hall’, which is the equivalent of a community centre or village hall. The Barangay we live in is just one street but there is still a sign that welcomes you at one end and says ‘Thank you for visiting’ at the other end.
 
10. February is meant to be the start of the dry season but it is still raining a lot. Nearly every day there are heavy downpours accompanied by strong winds, which blow the rain at all angles. Some days these showers last for just a few minutes but on other days, like today, it seems to rain virtually all the time.

Welcome to The Philippines

Ten days ago arrived in The Philippines. I will be working with Medair for much of this year as they continue to respond to the devastation caused by Typhoon Haiyan in November 2013. I will blog more about the project at another time but for now here are some of my first impressions of this country.

It is beautiful. I flew from Manila to Tacloban on an early morning flight and the sun was rising as we came in to land. The ocean, the forests and the mountains in the distance were bathed in the glorious early morning light.

It is scarred. From the moment of leaving the airport and all along the 45 minute drive to Dulag, where the Medair project is based, you can see the impact of the typhoon. There are huge numbers of buildings either partially or totally destroyed. You can see the power of the typhoon in the twisted and crumpled metalwork and collapsed walls of structures that were once functioning as factories, offices, schools and homes. You can see the impact on individuals in the broken down houses, many covered in tarpaulins as their only defense against the elements now.

It is recovering. Amidst the destruction there are newly rebuilt or repaired buildings, standing as a beacon of hope for what is possible.

It is Roman Catholic. A few weeks ago the Pope visited Tacloban and the banners to welcome him are still hanging in the streets. Many of the buildings that have been rebuilt are churches. Our rented office and one of our warehouses both have shelves containing icons and statues of the Virgin Mary.

It is tropical. Although this is now meant to be the dry season it still seems to rain every day in short bursts of heavy rain. In between the rain showers the sun shines and the temperature and humidity levels rise to the point where a fan is an essential piece of equipment in order to keep cool.

It is friendly. People seem very open and always pleased to see you. The adults will say 'Good Morning / Afternoon / Evening' as you pass them in the street and the children will put up their hands for a high five and ask 'What is your name?'

It is noisy. I think we are living on the corner of a particularly noisy street but there is rarely a moment (except maybe in the middle of the night) when you could say it was truly quiet. The roar of motorbike engines, the barking of the multitude of stray dogs that roam the streets, the (mostly) tuneless karaoke singing, the banging and hammering of construction and the chattering and shouting of the neighbours all contribute to a constant cacophony of sound. I am getting used to sleeping with ear plugs!

Over the next few months I am sure I will learn a lot more about the culture and the people of this country that is all a new experience for me.