Musings...

I've been thinking a lot lately about what I am learning here and what I want to take away from this experience.  One of the things that was most often said to me before we left the States was, "You will become so appreciative of what you have here."  I was actually slightly bugged by that because I have made a conscious and concerted effort in my life to live in a position of gratitude, and I think I have been pretty successful.  I have felt my heart overflow with thankfulness for great things, like my religious beliefs, my family and friends, the beauties of the earth, and for small things like the perfect running socks or a day of canning.  But I definitely have been feeling a different kind of gratitude here.  I feel just as grateful as I always have for the abundance in my life, but I also have had the realization that my gratitude is not only the kind that says, "I'm so glad I am where I am and have what I have," but it is also the selfish kind that says, "I'm so glad I'm not where she is and that I don't have to go through what he is." (Frankly, I don't even know if that second part is actually gratitude of any kind.)  I'm trying to sort out why some in this life are given a lot, and some in this life are given basically nothing.  (And if you, in this moment, consider even for a second making some kind of "Pull Yourself Up By Your Bootstraps" remark in the comments, I suggest you don't.  Because no matter how hard you pull those bootstraps, being born in a slum in a third world country is, with almost 100% certainty, a basically insurmountable barrier, and being born a white person in the suburbs of America does, with almost 100% certainty, guarantee a relatively comfortable life, particularly from a global perspective. And I'm not making any kind of a value judgement about the worth of those experiences or the worth of the person going through those experiences, I'm just saying that sometimes, despite our best efforts, we fall prey to our circumstances.) 

Something happened in church a few weeks ago that illustrates this.  A couple of things to know- if there is any kind of regular garbage pick-up here, I haven't managed to sort out what it is.  People throw their bags of trash to the curb and eventually they get picked up, even in the nicest neighborhoods.  Second, our chapel is windows on two sides, and looks out onto a busy street through Makati.   There we all were in sacrament meeting, and I noticed that a garbage truck had come to a stop out on the road.  As I was taking the sacrament, people had climbed up into the back of the truck and were picking through the trash.  My heart hurt so much- to sit there in a chapel in nice clothes with a full tummy and to watch another pick through trash was a juxtaposition in life fortunes that made me feel sick.  I felt like a lottery winner who had never actually bought a ticket. 

In sum, I suppose I am familiarizing myself with the flip side of the gratitude coin- I have always known that I have it good, but now I see first hand what it is to have it bad. I see the pressures of food and income insecurity, I see the toll on personal dignity to do everything humanly possible to raise your station in life and have it come to nothing, I have seen the sadness in a society that is a democracy on paper but not in action. 

There is a lot to love about this country- it's a beautiful place inhabited by a lovely people. I've been incredibly enlightened by the book I've been reading about the history of the Philippines.  I've lost track of the number of times I've set down the book and said to Bruce, "I FINALLY know why they do things this way!"  I have so much respect for the citizens of this country who labor and work to make a better life for themselves and improve the country.  They are a new society in so many ways- they were occupied by the Spaniards for three hundred years, and then by the Americans for 50.  (They say, "We spend three hundred years in a convent and 50 years in Hollywood.")  Many times we have heard the Americans praised as the liberators of the Philippines, but it isn't that simple.  We (the Americans) brutalized this country during the Spanish American War.  We lied to their leaders, we burned villages of women and children, and we were "Occupiers" not "Liberators."  The Filipino people had organized their own government and written their own constitution (much like America had only 125 years previous) and we squashed that movement through deceit and dirty tactics.  It's a complicated history between our two countries, and the citizens of the Philippines have done a pretty admirable job of moving their country forward.

I feel almost guilty expressing my stupid frustrations with life here, because I think they are largely born of my own background and expectations and maybe even a little tinge of homesickness.  Really, this country has only been on its own for 60 or 70 years, and has overcome a lot to get where it is.  Seeing a country struggle to establish itself in the face of corruption and conflict makes me so grateful for our democracy.  I have realized that a majority of our "complaints" about our government come from ignorance about how bad it could actually be if our government wasn't in place.  In the course of conversations with Filipinos, I have considered, just for a moment, making a disparaging remark about our government, only to realize that I would be voicing a complaint to a person who knows damn well that their ballot may have just as well gone into the shredder because of the pervasive election fraud in this country.  Not going to do it.  One of my favorite things about having met so many Americans who work for the government is that while personal philosophies differ, these people truly have devoted themselves to the betterment of our country.  When you hear a dyed in the wool Republican express heartfelt respect towards Hillary Clinton, you just feel like there is hope for us and our country.  I don't know that I ever would have learned that at home. 

The other thing I've been exploring is this: what unites the human race then?  I personally need to believe that something does- maybe I'm a hippy.  We are an entire world full of people with divergent backgrounds and experiences and perspectives, but I just really want to feel like something is common to us all.  I've been turning and turning this around in my mind, and I received a little clue over Christmas.  We were on a boat, cruising down the river for lunch, and our entertainment was just a Filipino guy and his guitar.  He played "Imagine," and of course we all sang along.  We were a group of people from different countries and religions.  We were of different races and economic backgrounds, yet when I looked at the faces of people singing this song, the hope we all felt was a light shining in all of our faces.

Imagine there's no heaven
It's easy if you try
No hell below us
Above us only sky
Imagine all the people
Living for today...

Imagine there's no countries
It isn't hard to do
Nothing to kill or die for
And no religion too
Imagine all the people
Living life in peace...

You may say I'm a dreamer
But I'm not the only one
I hope someday you'll join us
And the world will be as one

Imagine no possessions
I wonder if you can
No need for greed or hunger
A brotherhood of man
Imagine all the people
Sharing all the world...

You may say I'm a dreamer
But I'm not the only one
I hope someday you'll join us
And the world will live as one

Here is one of the things I will remember most about my time here: I think our emotions are the only truly universal experience. What is better to unite us than to know that happiness, grief, or hope feels the same in every heart?