My mood recently has been pensive to say the least, my
natural cynicism has gotten the better of me and I’ve been calling everything
into question. It’s not as if I’d fallen madly in love with this country
anyway, it has failed to enthral me. I think this is largely due to getting
down to the grass roots level of things here, experiencing every day life
rather than the glorified tourist version. I can’t help but admire the friendly
manner in which I’m dealt with by almost everyone I’ve met. Without doubt the
national outlook on life is a happy go lucky one, but I can’t help feeling
they’re too complacent for their own good. Things like diet, health, birth control, corruption; they all stink. How can change come about if you
accept the corruption and social injustices that surround you? I don’t know if such
things are general topics of conversation, or whether as an outsider people
talk more freely to me about them. Without doubt being a foreigner sees me
treated differently on a daily basis. (Photo: Merry Christmas folks, from a not so sunny - Barangay Valencia, Cebu)
Simple things, such as entering a shopping mall, are easier.
Rarely am I subjected to searches by the ever present security guards, they
never bother to check my receipt on leaving either. Woe betide a local who
doesn’t openly display a receipt on the outside of his shopping bag. It’s
amazing the guys who gladly let me ride their motorbikes, even offering without
being asked. But it’s the adverse side that bothers me. Shopping in the local
market is more expensive, because they up the price at the sight of me. Such
practice is widespread for a huge variety of goods. It’s probably not as bad as
I think, maybe prices in general as higher than expected. But when I’m quoted
higher prices for fresh local produce than I’d pay at home I sincerely doubt
I’m wrong about them hiking up the price. The locals I speak to confirm this,
they have no doubts, I pay more than they do. Without qualms they say of course a foreigner is charged more. Which is a problem in a country where very few goods have a marked price, you're subject top the whims of the salesperson from the word go. So it doesn’t matter how long I’m
here, because I’m white I'll pay over the odds. But I’m whinging and I don’t wish
to, it’s not an attractive trait.
I’d rather relate the lovely playground scenes I face when I
walk Jaslyn to school. The calls from various groups of kids, vying for my
attention, often they’re little more than games of dare. I adore the doe eyed
girls sheepishly looking up at me, breaking into sunny smiles when I smile at
them. It’s always a joy to watch a playground heaving with kids and the only
sounds are of joy, not once have I witnessed any bullying or adverse behaviour.
Without toys their games are simple, most revolve around throwing flip-flops
around. Knocking down rusty cans with your flip-flop, tag with flip-flops as the
ball, piggy in the middle using a flip-flop. I’ll say one thing for them,
they’re very inventive when it comes to flip-flops. There is no canteen, so
those living near the school walk back home for lunch. Generally the mothers of
those living further away gather at the gate bearing Tupperware containers
packed with rice and some simple pork dish. Of course, in no time all the other
parents knew I was the foreigner who lived with Jaslyn’s family. She was quite
proud of the fact, often insisting I walk her not her mother. 
It was quite touching the praise heaped upon foreigners by a
taxi driver the other day. He had no qualms about how beneficial the abundance
of foreigners has on the national economy. He went as far as to claim it’s a
huge boon to the country, in fact he likened it to the Filpino working
overseas. With nearing a million overseas workers they are accredited with
bringing billions of pesos into the country. Even with a million pesos only
being the equivalent of £15,000 that’s still a lot of money. They’re often
quoted as national heroes, given express lanes through customs and higher
allowances on imported goods. It’s with pride that a family member declares
they have a relative working abroad. Mind you, having a foreigner marry into
the family is viewed as improving the whole family’s status. I guess it must
do, how else will the average family be able to avoid the government hospital
when any health problems occur. 
Of which we’ve had another round of dealings, unfortunately
right on top of Christmas. Same problem as last time for Zoe, seemingly fine
one minute the next seriously heavy haemorrhaging. No way were we going back to
the butchers in the charity hospital, so I bit the bullet, blew the cobwebs off
my wallet and took her into a private establishment. Wow, what a difference!
Floors polished to a high sheen, walls clean and nicely painted, individual
booths screened by curtains and efficient, attentive staff. OK, it did resemble
a prison in some ways, but certainly not the quality of service. We didn’t
actually see the gynaecologist that night, she prescribed appropriate drugs and
told us not to waste our money being admitted, she’d see us the following
morning at her clinic. She turned out to be a real gem, recommending the
cheapest way of dealing with the problem but also giving us other options. As
it happened the best way to ensure there was no future problem happened to be
the more expensive option. Which I decided would be the one to take, knowing
that if there was a reoccurrence the chances are I wouldn’t be around to help. 
As it turned out the procedure carried out by the government
place had been a sloppy job, rushed and incomplete. There was still a
considerable amount of placenta attached to the uterus. Whether it was a bad
decision to self-discharge from their care will never be known, in truth the
procedure, if done correctly, shouldn’t have needed further work. If they’d
been as sloppy the second time it would have cost more and still produced the
same problem weeks down the line. So she was admitted, on Christmas eve,
underwent the procedure on Christmas morning, but, I’m glad to say, was home by
mid-afternoon the same day. I won’t claim it to have been cheap, but I do think
worthwhile. And here’s the point I must be honest. I’m not saying there was any hesitation in any way shape or form, the treatment was going to get done, but deep down I
begrudged it. There was an unshakable resentment over the increasing amount I’d had to cough up in an attempt to help someone.
It wasn't directed at Zoe herself, but it did affect the amount of active support I could muster. That made me ashamed of myself. Thankfully she hardly seemed aware of this, I'm sure because the procedure was foremost on her mind. 
These experiences have all given me cause for some deep thinking. Being unable to feel overly positive about the nitty gritty of life in the Philippines, it brought too many every day experiences into question. It further tainted my already cynical view, made me withdraw from the close family folds of life in Valencia. People talking about their business ideas turned me cold, it always ended with the information that they just needed capital to initiate their plans. Suggestions that I should have this or that piece of household equipment, when it turns out it's what they have their eye on anyway. I couldn't help but feel people were trying to take advantage of me. Which is a bit harsh, is it any more than trying to benefit from my presence? However you see it, it's still attempting to use me for their own benefit. But, I'm sure they wouldn't see it that way, not with the prospective business dealings anyway, aren't all prospective business men? Though it failed to ease the sense of being seen as a walking cash dispenser, a means to better those around me. The worst aspect was people banking on me settling down there, which seemed further from my mind with each week I stayed. Not necessarily due to those immediately around me, but more for being seen as a rich outsider, a means to an end. In some ways my presence was having a positive effect, some kids were getting less candy because I thought it unhealthy. Some people were hesitating before beating their kids, due to a few reprimands by me. I also grew afraid of how dependant some were becoming on me. A few of the kids, and most of all Zoe, were getting very attached, even distressed at the prospect of me leaving. It hadn't been my intention to stay indefinitely, though no doubt I'd got more attached than I meant to also. All taken into account (especially considering the lack of managing to write whilst in Valencia) it was past the time for me to move on. Yes, I have managed to achieve was I set out to do. I got Zoe out of the dismal life she'd sunk into in Manila, she has been reunited with her daughter, for which both are very grateful, and she won't have another child to be concerned about, hopefully until she decides she wishes another. It hasn't been done without upsetting some people you have become quite dear to me, which upsets me. I think in the circumstances attachments were bound to be made, it's a shame that feelings have been hurt. For me, I'm now in Cebu City undergoing a different sort of pain.
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