I am Filipino.

Throughout my life, I've had my share of hardships. I divulged these hardships the night of the trip that we all shared our stories, our backgrounds, our reasons for coming on the trip, and what we're getting out of it. Of course, I cried. If you know me, I cry when I feel heavy amounts of passion toward something or emotion about something. My tears don't come from weakness, they come from strength. I cry because my heart is so full, my will is so strong, that I can't help but cry.

My journey up to this point in my life has lead me through some dark places, and in that darkness, when I felt most alone, I had nothing to fall back on. There were times where I found nothing to live for, and I got very low. There have been times of depressive episodes and anxiety attacks, and still, I pressed on in my life, looking for new reasons to live, to try and feel complete, to hope and pray that one day I'll wake up and be whole.

I used to live for other people's happiness before my own. I would thrive off of the energy and happiness of other people, so I would foster it in others rather than myself. I know, I know. "You can't care about others unless you care about yourself first." I made do for the last 20 years, I thought, "This is what I'll dedicate my life to, making others happy, helping people on their journeys, being someone to help and be there, no matter what." It was a strong motivation for being a drum major in band, for joining AB Samahan in college, for being a psychology major and aspiring to be a therapist for teenagers.

The key word there is was. Now, because of this trip and everything I've seen and felt, my heart is strong. I wake up in the morning and I feel whole. My heart beats hard, with all the passion for people as before, for the country I love and find my roots in, for the life I want to live, giving back to the Filipino people, to help rebuild and sustain our culture and country. I want to teach the kids from that GK village, I want to go there for a month in the summer or something and teach them music and dance. I want to get them uniforms, I want to find them chances to perform when they are ready.

I want to see the Philippines get back on the map, not just through a rockstar boxer, a famous singer, or lumpia (no matter how good it is). The Philippines will make the comeback of the century, rising from the damages of years of colonization and corruption and natural disasters. When Filipinos are knocked down, we get back up, we regroup, we rebuild, we start over. When we have nothing, we have each other, we have ourselves, we have hope. This is what makes Filipinos so special, this is what passes from generation to generation, something that isn't taught, but something we are innately born with.

These are the things that make all Filipinos, One Filipino.

This is what makes me, Erin Nicole Reyes Vedar. I am Filipino, and I am proud. I am whole. I am me, and I aspire to do great things for a great community of people. I'm part of something bigger than myself, and it means the world to me, I will do whatever I can to help progress and rebuild the Filipino nation. When I fall, I have this cultural identity to bring me back up and get me back on my feet and send me running again. I've found this missing piece of me, hidden in plain sight in my motherland, in the smiles of children who play how I did, in the determination and strength of people I've never met but share so much in common with.

This is what matters to me.

Home safe.

We're back and beautifully tanned! 

Today, on April 22, our fantastic Team GK-USA arrived back in California. There's a million things I want to write about my final thoughts on this experience and what happens from here, but I really need to sleep. <3 Much love to everyone who's been reading thus far! If you want to hit the share on Facebook button over there, share my story if you think it's worthy! 

Happy Easter!

If you're in San Diego reading this, Happy Easter early!

So I guess Good Friday was the last day of village touring. It's been an educating and enlightening last few days. I finally figured out what it means to be Filipino, and that I've been Filipino all my life, in everything I do and everything I am. On a basic cultural level, there is no difference between me, or Savvy, or Tony Olaes, or the hundreds of Filipinos I've gotten to meet. We are all one Filipino people, we all come from the same roots. It's going to take a long time to truly unite, but with these connections, we're on the right track.

I'm part of something so much bigger than me. In AB Samahan, in band, in the Filipino culture, on this trip. I love this feeling, of contributing to something incredible. Whether it's a field show, or an event, or simply finding myself culturally or helping people who need it, I always feel rewarded and like I'm doing something worth living for. This trip has helped me see the commonalities in Filipinos and Filipino-Americans. It's incredible to know that I share connections and things in common with people who live on the opposite end of the Pacific Ocean.

My heart beats so hard with pride, for who I have learned I am and for the country I love, the motherland I come from, the Philippines. I'm so motivated to live my life to the greatest and fullest and ESPECIALLY to give back to the country that's awarded me with so much.

On Friday night, we all gathered for dinner, and one by one, shared our stories. Our pasts, what this trip has meant to us, what we've learned. It was a huge reflection for all of us, to connect with each other and really show how far we've come since this trip started. Each and every person's story had beauty, and hardship, but in the end, we have hope. That's what being Filipino is. Not just endurance or resilience, but hope.

Conversations.

I have had pretty much the best conversations associated with this trip. The people on this trip are the kind of people who are fairly like-minded, in that we all want to help progress the Filipino community, and we value our culture.

Marty Lorenzo, a pretty intense corporate lawyer, and a Marine, told me that everyone here on this trip is here for a reason, and that this whole trip was meant to be. We had a pretty amazing heart-to-heart kind of conversation around 3 AM before we left Cavite to go to Tacloban. He left the trip early to go back to the States, for his son, who is becoming an Eagle Scout on Saturday. Marty is incredibly caring, geeky (HE MADE A HITCHHIKER'S GUIDE TO THE GALAXY REFERENCE TO THE RESTAURANT AT THE END OF THE UNIVERSE WHAAAAT NOBODY DOES THAT; also, Star Wars references and Disney songs for days), and I'm really happy that I can call him Kuya as opposed to Uncle. He's someone I can go to for an unbiased, but genuine, perspective. It's really weird to think that he was once an interrogator for the Marine Corps. He's a hardcore guy.

Levin Sy knows everything about everyone, all the time. He's a very strong and strategic activist for Filipino rights, ever since he went to college at UCLA. He was able to pretty much take over the student government from the fraternities that usually took it over, with a completely ethnic org-based slate. He used months of planning, fundraising, strategizing, and finally succeeded. The way he thinks is always in "the bigger picture" and Levin sees all and knows how to work a room, how to call people out to improve them, and especially how to make sure that everyone is fed and safe and okay. He's the kind of person I want to be around forever, because he constantly has my back, I never have to worry.

Rob, Reina, and Warren Bonta are an incredible family. Rob is the first Fil-Am Assemblyman, Reina has her own nonprofit org that donates soccer equipment to kids in need, and Warren has lived through so many historical moments, his life would be the most interesting memoir. The fact that they are able to come out to the Philippines, even though they're all crazy busy, and explore our homeland together, and appreciate it so much, it's incredible. I wish I had spent more time with them, since we met up with them in Tacloban, and they're leaving tonight. Well, not Warren. Warren's with us.

Dean is Rob's Chief of Staff. He's funny, and an awesome person to talk to, and he's been able to reconnect with a lot of his family members in the area, it's been amazing. It turns out that most places we go, he meets someone from his family that he's never met before. Unfortunately, we weren't able to go to Guiuan, due to rain and mud, and he missed out on visiting his grandmother's hometown nearby, but it means he'll have to take another trip. I feel like we did so much on this trip but we could do so much more. I can't wait to come back to the Philippines, hopefully with this group again.

Willy Santos, his wife Shelley, Trisha, DJ Bautista, and Uncle Pete are also incredible people. Oh, and Mike. I'm not sure when he arrived. I think Uncle Pete owns a cable company here? He donated free cable to two Gawad Kalinga villages, without a second thought. Once those villages are completed, they'll have cable as well. That's just so uplifting. Willy Santos, everytime he sees a skateboarder here, he's so chill about going up to them and taking pictures and giving them free things. The work he's been doing to support typhoon relief here is nothing short of amazing. I don't know enough about this group of people, but they're amazingly successful and I wish I could get to know them better.

Perla and her son, Zach joined us in Tacloban. Ate Perla is thoughtful, kind, and so good with children. She looks out for us, she's so open and incredible, and I absolutely love her. Her son, Zach has a long way to go, social skills-wise, but it's okay. He plays mad piano, his humor is sarcastic as anyone I know, and he's a great kid. Zach is cool. I wish I had more time to spend with them, because I think they're leaving tomorrow.

Derek and Deejay are the videographers. I got to be Derek's sound person for a little bit in Tacloban. Though their role here was videographer, they both have so much heart. Their lives have been battles, just like everyone else here. They're hilarious, and fun, and they look out for our trifecta of girls... I can't say enough about them. This trip would not have been this much fun without them. I adore everyone who came on this trip, and made me feel welcomed and important, as if I'm their equal. Everyone on this trip, I have the privilege of calling them Ate or Kuya, and that is amazing.

Tony Olaes is the reason we are all here, together. His vision of a united Filipino people is inspiring, and his passion is unparalleled. His life has changed so drastically in the last few years, and he has become such a giving and wonderful person. Everything he thinks about comes back to the Philippines, to helping families rebuild homes, to helping Filipinos get jobs, to bringing typhoon relief. As an entrepreneur, as a businessman, he's pretty awesome. As a kuya, as a friend, he's incredibly laidback and fun. I'm so grateful to have met someone like him.

Jen, Savvy, and I make the trifecta! We traveled here together, we've stuck together, we've gone through this incredible journey together. We make fun of Deejay and D-Rock, we explore our culture, and we've had each other's backs. I'm so happy that I get to share this amazing experience with these extraordinary ladies. Even though the things we've taken away from the trip have been different, our journey together is one we can really connect with, and I know I can go to these ladies for anything.

KUYA RICO IS AMAZING. KUYA RICO IS SERIOUSLY THE GREATEST PERSON EVER. He coordinates all of our travel, our meals, our itinerary; he's so organized and pleasant and at the end of the day, he still finds a way to relaaax. He and Levin make a great team. Rico is a loving father of two girls, and he cares so much about everyone, and he doesn't care about how people feel about his accent. I love his accent, I think it's so distinctly him. When I first talked to or emailed Rico, I thought he was all business.

Turns out nobody on this trip is like that. As intense and successful everyone is professionally, when it's time to come back to our roots and reconnect with each other, these people are so full of heart and soul. I'm so honored to have been on this trip with them.

Good Friday.

So today, instead of going to Guiuan like we planned, we went to GK villages and other Barongays in the surrounding area. There was too much mud from the rain last night to head into Guiuan, so we changed our plans. Tony's been having a lot of communication with Mayor Mel (I learned his name, oops.) about the plaza he's hoping to rebuild into a central plaza for the children, the families, etc. I think they're in a meeting with Willy Santos as well right now, trying to convince the Mayor of Tanauan to build a skate park in the plaza as well, as a good recreational activity for the kids.

Before we got to the first village, we had our first collective culture scare. This was the first time we saw something and nobody in the van could explain the why's or what's. There were people, dressed in pointy hoods and masks and their whole bodies were covered. There were crosses on their fronts and they looked like they were collecting donations for the church. There were people dressed in all white, or all navy blue, or in different color combinations. I'm assuming they were priests, and this was some kind of tradition for Good Friday. It scared us because they resembled the American KKK, but the connotation here is completely different.

The first village we visited took us down the bumpiest roads thus far. For people who have been here, you already know what I mean. For people who don't, take the Indiana Jones ride at Disneyland, and multiply it by a thousand, and slow it down by just as much. It's totally nuts. You really gotta have a strong stomach and roll with the bumps in the road. I taught a few people on this trip to fold paper stars, though. I've been folding stars this whole trip just to keep my hands busy without giving me motion sickness from writing or reading.

The village was apparently, already built when the typhoon hit. However, when it happened, the town suffered a lot of damages, but fortunately, nobody died. Apparently, at all the GK villages, nobody died during the typhoon, which is amazing. I was actually pretty proud of myself that I could have a basic conversation with the kids at this village. It was hard to talk to the toddlers though, they didn't really talk back. We bought a bunch of food from a small store and handed it out to the kids and mothers.

Since it's Good Friday, there were a lot of prayers and sharing of stories about the typhoon, and being a part of the GK village, and so on. Apparently, our current GK guide, who was at the GK village where we celebrated Reina's birthday, used to be a pastor of some sort. He's really good at keeping the crowd alive and entertained. I feel like today was a lot of travel, going from village to village quickly, instead of interviewing residents for a long time like we have been. It's still been a good experience, we get to interact with everyone, but it's not for as long as usual, I feel. Maybe it's because of the weather. It was insanely hot today, hotter than usual. Nutty weather.

We got a bunch of fruit on the side of the road when we headed off to the Leyte Landing, where the MacArthur Monument was. At least, I think that's what it was called, and I think that's how you spell that. o.o We took a lot of cool pictures with the statues depicting soldiers walking through the water. The heat was really getting to us though, and we headed out quickly. From there, we headed to a really tropical barongay close to the water. There was a convent there that GK had visited before, and we went to thank them for their work in keeping their community safe as much as they could during the typhoon.

It's pretty heartbreaking, thinking about how the typhoon affected this area. Apparently, when they were cleaning up, or when the coast guard was making their rounds, people would pile dead bodies on a raft and push them out to sea so the coast guard could collect them. There were 128 households in this barongay, and that doesn't even include a full count of how many families and people there are living in those households. Today was a day of reflection, as Good Friday should be. You can feel the Holy Spirit in the words we've prayed and the general vibe of all the communities.

Tacloban, Day 1

There's a huge difference between hearing about the damages of Typhoon Haiyan, and actually being in the midst of it. The airport that planes couldn't land in due to flooding, that's where we flew in today. There's literally half an airport left. There's tarps trying to cover as many holes in the wall as possible; and when I say holes, I mean entire chunks of wall that are just gone. The airport is working at its bare minimum, and the entire city looks just as destroyed.

As we were driving through to meet the mayor of Tanauan, I was so stricken. To say that the damages of the storm were devastating doesn't even cover it. You can feel the environment, and how hurt the land and the people are. There's green everywhere, from flooding and fallen trees, and mixed with that are the makeshift homes everyone lives in. There's tarps and metal sheets and so much trash everywhere. There's structures half-standing, without roofs or entire sections of wall. Everything felt like it was in a fixed state of reconstruction or hopelessness. At least, this is how I felt when we initially arrived.

I noticed a ton of signs saying, "No build zone." Upon meeting the Mayor of Tanauan, and even going to the Bayani Challenge later on, I realized that they are learning from the mistake of building homes so close to the coastline. The airport was right next to the ocean, right at sea level. As they are rebuilding, hopefully to make stronger and more durable homes, they know to relocate far from the coastline, to prevent such damages from being so great. The mayor of Tanauan, I think his name was Pat, was working hard to restore his city. He focused on livelihood, funding, infrastructure, and other big picture-type aspects to make his city stronger.

At the Bayani Challenge, there were guest speakers, talking about how they were taking the challenge, and how grateful they are to see such hard work and progress. There were a lot of house structures erected, they just need rooftops and some reinforcing. We were helping mix cement with "two shovels of sand, and one shovel of gravel," according to Marty Lorenzo, who is someone I've been able to get closer to on this trip. He has really amazing insight, and though his life is so busy, he is still able to come out here and reconnect, and help tremendously.

Something I noticed during the event was that while the speakers were talking, everyone, and I mean, EVERYONE was listening and giving their total focus and respect to the person speaking. That was incredible. I'm so used to crowds of Filipinos not being able to stop talking, in college or in other groups. The focus and respect in this process is amazing, and the spirit is inspiring as well. Everyone was helping out, from teenagers to lolo's and lola's. All these people are putting in "sweat equity." Since they don't have the money to pay for the houses in the village, they need to donate at least 2000 hours helping build, I believe. The houses they build individually may not even be their own, but in the end everyone still comes together to benefit the community, and houses are distributed fairly.

It felt good to finally do some work, digging and lifting bags of dirt. I got to use old leg muscles I hadn't exerted in a while, and I felt accomplished. There's so much work to be done in Tacloban, in this whole region. Although people have shelter, it's not anywhere near strong or sturdy enough. The lives of the people here are revolved around survival and rebuilding. Hopefully, the houses in the GK village will be finished by next year, and hopefully more schools will be rebuilt by the time the kids have to go back in June.

After lunch, we went to a place called Tent City. It's literally a village of tents. We were greeted by a huge mob of kids. We got to talking to them, and set off to find residents to interview. Willy Santos and Dean, Rob Banta's Chief of Staff, were handing out food to the kids, and they were completely ravenous for it. Soon, we were surrounded by kids with chocolate candy, cookies, and chips. Rob Banta's daughter, Reina, had her first experience in a village, interacting with kids. We had a lot of fun, singing and playing with the kids. They spoke a lot better English here, which made me feel a little bit better. I inferred that they still went to school.

After a while, a group of girls broke off from the crowd to play games together. There were lots of Tagalog rhymes and dances, but OH MY GOD THEY KNEW "RIDE THAT PONY." They started playing it, the way we learned it at Filipino Culture Night practices, and Savannah and I immediately started playing with them. Many, many rhymes and games later, we were able to teach them slide, before having to leave. Playing with the kids is always a very rewarding part of the village visits, because these kids can still have fun and be curious and be themselves, even in the midst of all the chaos.

We have 3 more days here, I think. There's so much to be done. People to meet, builds to partake in, and a lot of information to absorb. The resilience of Filipinos is 100% genuine and real, as is the resourcefulness in reconstruction. Tacloban is going in the right direction, it's just taking a while to process.

The Gawad Kalinga Village Contrast

So visiting the slums, or even acknowledging poverty in general, you realize a few things. The only things that matter are physiological needs, and very few safety needs. When you live with almost nothing, you have to think about what you're going to eat, drink, if your house is going to fall on you, where is your family going to sleep, etc. Very basic needs, no more than that, since life is literally money source to money source, and nothing was stable.

I visited my first Gawad Kalinga village today. I saw pictures online, the buildings are so incredibly bright, and compared to the slums, the ground was better and cleaner. All around, the Gawad Kalinga Village is a significant improvement over the slums. The houses are sturdier, the environment is cleaner, there's more opportunities for livelihoods and education for the many, many children. When we got there, I was in awe. It was like a beautiful community. When we got to the main square, I was totally floored. I wanted to leap out of the car and run to the incredible group of Drum and Lyre Corps, who were performing because Tony Olaes and our group were coming to visit.

The Drum and Lyre Corps was made up of students, ranged 8-16 years old, and they had 2 bass drums, 1 cymbalist, 2 tri-drums, and 4 snares, all the players were boys. A large amount of girls were on lyres and bells, and they were all playing, together. There was a little girl on a lyre and her mallet head flew off. She sighed, took off her lyre, and picked it up. I was so proud. If anyone knows me from band, breaking mallets like that is almost a rite of passage in my mind.

The music was cohesive, and incredible. I was in such awe, I had no idea that music was a priority in their education. IN ADDITION TO THIS GROUP OF MUSICIANS, WAS 7 GUARD KIDS. I'm not kidding. Guard babies. There was this FABULOUS boy named Mathew, performing his little heart out at the front of the performance. They had types of uniforms, but nothing really uniform. OH MAN I SHOULD HAVE ASKED THEM ABOUT WHAT LIFE WAS LIKE BEFORE THIS POINT. I got to talk to all of them, and even though only about 3 kids could understand me, I felt so happy to be able to connect with them on a performance level. They were so welcoming and so awesome.

Upon being able to talk to these kids, I was overwhemed with such pride for them because they are all doing something that I have been doing all through high school and the fact that they were happy and enjoying it and planning to continue it made me so proud. The whole time I was watching them and interacting with them, I was struck with a powerful need to come back, and live with them for a month, and teach them everything I know about guard and percussion. I'm not an expert, but I could teach them so much more. I fangirled hard over these kids.

They handmade everything. I asked where their instruments came from, and the conductor told me he has a business making these instruments. The drums weren't uniform, and the mallets didn't match, but they made music together and enjoyed doing it. The guard flags were about arm's length, and they were hand made and taped. The uniforms were borrowed, and they want more than anything to just have a set uniform for everyone. That really spoke to me. I know that Filipinos ask for things often, but the fact that these people went from living in the worst environment ever to a small safe haven in the middle of craziness really gives me hope.

When visiting the slums, the people knew that they could do so much more, and so much better, but they didn't have the options or ability to. But in the Gawad Kalinga village, they reached this point where they are able to provide their own physiological needs, and safety needs, and now they can think about livelihoods, music, other things. These kids are so happy, and they're going to grow up so smart and incredible just because they live in a better community than most, and they have the options of learning music or guard. I connected. I fell in love. This is amazing.