The Van Ride

Up to this point, I really didn't feel like I was some place that was as vastly different as I had anticipated.  Sure, the people around me were speaking in Tagalog or Visayan or Boholano or some other dialect of the Filipino languages.  And certainly the weather conditions were different then what I had left in New Mexico (we had snow on the grown when I departed Albuquerque).  But I hadn't really encountered the day-to-day Philippines yet.  Everything had been about international travel or occasional travel like the ferry ride to Bohol.  My seat-mate on the ride to Bohol was a Korean college girl on holiday.  When she found out that I was an American, she "practiced" her English with me, chatting incessantly for nearly the entire length of the trip.  Yes, she was "foreign", but not Filipino.

The van to Sierra Bullones

Once we had disembarked from the ferry and  gathered our bags, we were directed toward an awaiting van.  I was pleased to see that it was designed to accommodate "American"-sized people, as most of the crew from the US were significantly larger then our Filipino co-travelers.  We left the pier and meandered through the town of Tubigon (pronounced something like too-BIG-on).  I was immediately in sensory overload.  So many of the websites I had been to prior to my trip to the Philippines had ill-prepared me for the scene folding out in front of me.

Everything seemed unkempt and in disarray.  In America, businesses are forced to adhere to standards for appearance and general condition of buildings and so on.  City ordinances dictate the size and appearance of signage and such.  Not so in the Philippines.  It wasn't that things were dirty or in any way "trashed" -- I guess the best word to describe what I saw is "hodge-podge".  At least to my eyes, nothing was organized.  Maybe the sensory-overload concept is truly at work here, as I felt like I couldn't focus on any one thing before being distracted by another.  It makes me think of my ADHD students.

A common traffic scene in the Philippines

Then we were out of the town and into the "province", or country side.  There were two things that struck me the hardest.  First was the traffic.  Oh my gosh!  The first thing I can remember observing is that the line down the middle of the road has no real value:  it is merely a suggestion.  Most vehicles were either straddling the line or, in the case of motorcycles, were completely over the line -- often for no apparent reason other than that's where the driver wanted to be.  It was not uncommon to have vehicles overtaking other vehicles in both directions.  A motorcycle overtaking a tricycle in one lane, while coming from the opposite direction is a multicab overtaking a peddle-cart.  And while this "overtaking" activity is happening, everyone is honking their horns.  In the US, this type of situation would have ended in a road-rage incident for sure!  But wait, there's more.  Simultaneously with the vehicles passing each other on the road is a plethora of pedestrians: children walking to school (of all ages, rarely with a parent to accompany them), people walking to the market or to work or to some other destination, dogs laying in the middle of the road, chickens and roosters scratching for seeds along the roadside, and caribow (not caribou) pulling  sleds beside or half-on the road.  The amazing thing to me was that in spite of the apparent chaos along the roadside, no one was injured, no one was angry or upset, there were no near-misses . . . everyone just seemed to accept that this is the way things are and that they will all do their best to live with it and to cooperate with one another.

Bro Wayne trying the "Crocodile Dundee" move on a caribow

I think what affected my perception of the traffic was that I was simultaneously trying to absorb the scenes passing by my window.  Again, there was the sense that I couldn't stay focused on one scene long enough to comprehend it before another scene was taking form.  As I noted in a previous article, I really thought I had a grasp on living conditions in the Philippines before I left the US.  All of the web articles and Google photos I had looked at just didn't prepare me for what I was seeing along the roads through Bohol.

I had been under the impression that, while there were still bamboo and nipa-leave houses in the Philippines, that they were the exception, not the norm.  That was totally not the case.  The woven bamboo houses that I had thought were cute little reminders of days gone by were actually the majority of the structures I saw along the road.  Most had replaced the nipa-leaf roof for a corrugated piece of galvanized steel, but the buildings themselves were still very much made of bamboo and other native products.  I could see smoke from kitchen wood fires curling from under the eaves of many houses.  Windows were just woven bamboo screens with openings to allow light and air to pass through.  Doors stood wide open, with dogs, children and chickens coming and going freely.  About every 100 yards or so would be a little sari-sari store.  These are shops that are operated by anyone who can put together a store front and stock it with merchandise to sell.  They dotted the road side, each sporting a wide array of signage and advertising for whatever products they were trying to sell.

Typical bamboo house in the Philippines

There were certainly those houses and buildings along the way that were obviously more modern in design.  Not everything was like some scene from a 1901 travelogue.  There were many houses that were constructed of concrete block, much like the church we were all going to build.  But even then, it was not uncommon to see a bamboo structure attached to the side of a concrete block house -- either as a reminder of where the residents used to live, or as a kitchen where they use wood fired stoves to cook, or as an inexpensive storage unit for "stuff".

I knew that most Filipinos were poor (relative to the average American), but I guess I didn't realize just how poor they were.  There is a wide polarization of economic classes in the Philippines.  Just comparing the "lower" class with the "middle" class, the disparity appears to be significant.  Those who are poor are truly poor.  Those who have a professional career can afford more upscale houses and can shop at the contemporary-style malls that are found in the larger towns and cities.  The middle class people can afford to buy toys for their children; the poor families are lucky to put one meal on the table each day -- toys aren't even a consideration.

Sari-sari store

I wasn't sure what to expect when we arrived in Sierra Bullones.  It was essentially the same as what I had seen on the road through Bohol: a mix of lower and middle class homes (heavy on the lower class), fields of rice growing just about anywhere there was a place to plant it and the typical Filipino traffic scene.  I don't know if my Filipino readers will understand this reference to the Wizard of Oz . . . but I knew that I wasn't in Kansas anymore.