So a main thing we are doing for this trip is visiting slum areas and interviewing residents. We film this and draw attention to it to show people that this is the reality for about 40% of the Philippines population. Poverty is a very real issue that requires actual attention. It's not pretty, it's not fun, but it's a long and depressing reality for so many Pilipinos. There are various reactions to this sort of environment - there's trash everywhere, the smells range from garbage to fish to even grosser things before you walk a step, everyone lives so jam packed together, and the standard of living is nonexistant. You make it with whatever you have, even if it means scavenging through insane piles of trash.
It's depressing. It's devestating. It's fascinating. In a community like this; in various communities like this, what is the common thread? This experience has made me grateful for what I have, and even guilty that I can't get them out of such a hopeless situation, but seeing these different slums and families and residents have shown me what being Filipino is at the most basic level. On the level where you have nothing but your mind, whatever you can find, and your community, who are you?
The first slum area we visited today was literally in a cemetery. There were large graves, jammed together, and at the end of the road, there was the community. This little girl, Tanya, was the first girl to walk up to us and speak to us. She wasn't shy. She liked the attention. Soon, most of the kids in the community, it seemed (I think they're on vacation?) were following our group in a huge mob as we walked around their buildings. The setting was intense. I was expecting bad, but bad gets worse when you see all the soaked garbage underneath some of the elevated houses.
We interviewed some residents, and to get to them, we had to pass in between houses, on crazy rocks and rubble, in the most narrow pathway I had ever been in. While the other people in my group were interviewing people, I couldn't help but keep my attention on what they had in their house. That, and the children, who were screaming and playing outside, and trying to get inside the house as well. I didn't say much for these first few interviews, in this slum area or the next one, because most of my attention was captured by what the residents seemed to value and keep in their house, and how the kids acted.
Some background - I love psychology. I love the conversations I would have with Dr. Rey about Filipino psychology, I love noticing what people value and what makes them act the way they do, and I love seeing the comparisons across a particular ethnicity or group. This is the kind of stuff I was hoping to find while touring the Philippines the way we are. What makes Filipinos Filipino? What connects every single one of us as Filipinos? I'm in no way, shape, or form an expert. But the things I'm noticing are absolutely fascinating.
No matter how poor the resident is, no matter how little they make a month or how many kids they have, three consistent things I've seen in the home are: window blinds, something to cover the windows, and oscillating fans. All of these things make sense, given it's crazy hot and they need something to protect from the bugs, but these items are consistent in every single residence house I've seen. It's something we do. This isn't a life-changing epiphany here, but it brings up other commonalities to be found.
Now the kids. These kids, across the different slums, ranged from having no shoes, or even pants, to having outfits that matched. I keep wondering where they keep getting all these things. There were tons of Disney shirts, Despicable Me Minion shirts, lots of pop culture stuff. But the way these kids were interacting with us really made me think. At the first slum area, they were totally trying to vie for attention. They were clamoring over each other, playing and screaming and just being kids. They were roughhousing, they were playing with whatever they could find, they were making up games. In the second area, the kids were a little shyer, but still curious. Still trying to get attention, but not entirely interacting with us. Again, there was roughhousing, made up games, resourcefulness, the same attitudes across the areas. For all these kids, I had an instant connection, a need to play with them, to interact, because they were so inviting to do so.
The reason I'm focusing on the kids is because the kids will be growing up in these areas for a very long time, possibly the rest of their lives. This is all they will know. But somehow, they're still smiling. They're still playing. They're still working with what they have, and doing their own thing, together. That's how I grew up, but on a much smaller scale. I would play like that with my Vedar cousins. We roughhoused in the backyard, whether it was a canyon or a street, and we would play pretend and even if all we had to play with was a broken scooter and a ball, there would be hours of entertainment. I connected. I felt like I belonged.
There's a variety of things that connect Filipinos, whether it's where we are from or how we are raised. But it goes deeper, down to things we don't think about, things that we just knew, that nobody had to teach. I want to find out as much as I can about it. I treasure every moment I have immersed in this environment. There's so much to learn.
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