Undoubtedly, the Philippines is rich with culture, and a sense of a strong community is paramount. Community and culture are interwoven; culture is embedded in every facet of culture. I was slightly aware of this truism from my Filipino-American friends, and from all I have studied; however, experiencing it in the Philippines was equal parts mesmerizing, breathtaking, and captivating.
Manila
My introduction to Filipino culture unsurprisingly started with karaoke on the first night. After our first day at the Philippine-American Educational Foundation (PAEF) headquarters, Filipino educators took us to a karaoke spot in a Manila mall. In the “Beyoncé Room,” dozens of U.S. and Filipino educators sang pop songs, ranging from Celine Dion and Beyoncé to Journey and the Backstreet Boys. Occasionally, our Filipino hosts would sing a Filipino song unfamiliar to us Americans. In those lyrics, I’ve learned in real-time that much of the Filipino language has plenty of Spanish and English words, which allowed me to understand a few of the lyrics. Of course, I sang Backstreet Boys’ classic “I Want It That Way.” Despite the fact that Filipino teachers put us to shame, we all had a splendid time.
Within a few days, it was immediately apparent how much basketball reigns supreme. In Manila, I saw basketball courts where teenagers played barefoot while dozens intensely watched and cheered. Basketball games are played on large screens in massive thoroughfares and on little TVs in shops and restaurants on skinny streets. This was especially telling considering it during the midst of the late stages of the World Cup. While the world watched Messi perform magic and Spain dominate, Filipinos stayed glued to their basketball.
A-HA! Learning Center
One of the first institutions we visited was the A-HA! Learning Center – a renowned nonprofit organization for Filipino youth. Based on our guide’s descriptions, I could not quite gauge what this place was going to be like. Was it a school? A community center? A nonprofit? It was everything and more, and thus, it is located precisely in this blog rather than the one regarding schools. Venturing to the AHA Center provided us with a different glimpse of Manila – one where skyscrapers, vapid malls, and large avenues did not dominate the landscape. Rather, we saw where the inhabitants of Manila lived and worked, and these harsh conditions were vastly different from the skyscrapers and shopping malls that dominated Makati. The country’s vast wealth gap was on full display.
When exiting the bus to enter the AHA center, I immediately noticed a strong stench. Our guides notified us that this is due to the nearby “Smokey Mountain,” much different from the Smoky Mountains in the States. This Smokey Mountain was akin to a hill atop a landfill, which reminded me of the Desire Projects in New Orleans – a neighborhood also built adjacent to a landfill. The hosts of the AHA center greeted us warmly. They ushered us into a room to sit at a table with an AHA teacher, a parent of AHA students, and an adult learner. The AHA teacher, Love, greeted us eagerly and kindly. She was a teacher any school would be fortunate to have. It was immediately evident she had a sense of pride in her work. The mother of an AHA kid, Lovely, greeted us in the same manner. I felt welcomed from the start.
The AHA staff gave a short presentation about the inner workings of the school. They emphasized kapwa– a recognition of a shared identity (elaborated in this blog). One leader stated, “Your team is my team, your joy is my joy.” To them, kapwa meant seeing “through the eyes of our learners, ears of our parents, and centering community needs.”
After getting to know one another, they gave us a tour of the facility. From the outdoor staircases, you could see shanty houses built atop a small river. In the center, each room hosted a different class for various age groups. I found the adult classes most meaningful. As kids learned in one classroom, mothers learned in a nearby one. We visited a women’s empowerment class and saw a vision that starkly contrasted with the patriarchy embedded within Filipino society. The class started with a chant: I am a woman, not just a woman. I live, I fight, I move forward. Many of the participants were single mothers living in destitute poverty; several told us the AHA center gave them “hope.” Another particularly moving part of the center was the room in which mothers sewed clothes, from school uniforms and clothes for mothers to whatever the community needed. There was no alienation of labor here. They made clothes with care and community in mind.
Later, I worked with a group of students who looked to be second graders. The teacher taught them strategies on how to count whole numbers. The teacher then asked me to work with a group of students. Although I teach much older kids, I did find immense value in this vital, albeit brief, work. One of the kids, Kyle, truly enjoyed my company. He hugged me tightly when I had to depart.
After our time with the kids, the AHA folks took us to visit a family. They assigned Teacher Love to guide another Fulbrighter and me to visit Lovely’s home, the first AHA mother I initially interacted with. Lovely’s home was a short walk from the AHA Center. It was a tiny, compact apartment in a large apartment complex directly across the street from Smokey Mountain. Two of Lovely’s kids greeted us with excitement. One of them, Akron – named after Lebron James’ hometown – ran around the place donning a Lebron jersey. Kids outside the apartment did TikTok dances – a universal experience. Lovely talked with us about her life, from working multiple jobs to being a community advocate. Although she did not employ the latter term to describe her life, it is an evident description of her.
It is always humbling and moving to see the living conditions of others. Such experiences indeed frustrate me, as I know we collectively can improve the living conditions of those at home and abroad. During our debrief, Teacher Love gave us some words of wisdom. She asked us not to “feel sorry for them” or just return home thinking about how fortunate our lives are. Rather, she asked us to let the experience move us to enact change in our own communities. I made a personal promise to do just that.
Chosen Village Orphanage
The Chosen Village Orphanage was the next community center we visited. Although it was a school, like the AHA Center, it also did so much more. Chosen Village was an orphanage, a home to dozens of kids whose parents abandoned them before they were two years old. Our guides ushered us into a small chapel as we waited for the orphanage staff to greet us. The small chapel had many figurines of saints, reminiscent of my grandmother’s home. Although I’ve only been in Manila a few days at this point, the presence of Catholicism seemed all-encompassing.
The staff greeted us in the Catholic chapel to give a quick background of the facility. We then toured various classrooms where students with special needs were giving it their all to learn. The kids immediately reminded me of the special needs students I taught at Trist Middle School during my first years as a teacher. I’ve always had a special place in my heart for those with disabilities, leading me to get certified to teach the subject when I first entered the profession.
Our Fulbright guides assigned us with groups beforehand. Roch, our main guide, asked if I would be ok with working outside on the farm. I figured this was because I was from the South and that heat probably did not faze us compared to our counterparts. It is a fair and accurate presumption. The Chosen Village director asked me, along with a few other Fulbrighters, to work with Paul, one of their older students (early 20s?), in the fields outside. Paul immediately displayed fixations on two topics: weather and basketball – both of which I knew, fortunately. We chatted about all sorts of weather patterns. He showed particular interest in the weather that occurs in the States. Interestingly, he asked me about Hurricane Katrina, despite not knowing I was from Louisiana. I told him a bit of story as we swept leaves while cows moo’ed loudly nearby. He also asked about tornadoes, which I witnessed pass right by my house – twice.
After yardwork, we visited the farm animals. The cows eagerly rushed toward us as we approached. I thought they were excited for new visitors, but they were actually trying to escape through the gate we just entered. I only noticed when they darted past us. Once they realized their fate was sealed, they became slightly more curious about our presence. Paul ushered us to the pig den, in which two men were pouring boiling water atop a recently slaughtered pig to burn off the hair. The sight reminded me of the time the leaders of a displaced Maasai community asked me to help sacrifice a goat for dinner, which I did. Such practices are a nice reminder that societies who buy their plastic-wrapped meat from horrendous factory farms should never judge. The pigs in the den seemed unaware of the fate of their nearby buddy as they sucked their mother’s milk. One pig in heat caused absolute madness. This was self-sufficiency in action.
We ate a home-cooked lunch near many of the students. Afterwards, children performed various songs that truly touched our hearts. The hip-hop segment was incredible as one kid went OFF. For the last song, all of the kids sang, “We Are the World,” with as much passion and spark as they could muster. Many in the crowd were moved to tears; tissues couldn’t come fast enough. Afterwards, one of the kids with Downs Syndrome who crushed the hip-hop dance decided to talk with me, which I later figured was probably because I had a backwards hat on. He talked about the Step-Up movies, none of which I had seen, but I listened intently. All conversations made its way back to the Step-Up movies.
I ended up buying loads of jewelry from this center to bring back to my family and my students. They all appreciated it. I have no photos of these interactions as we were politely asked not to take any.
Legazpi
After Manila, a few of us arrived in our home city, Legazpi. Our greeters displayed a sense of community upon our arrival. Edgar, our main Legazpi host, greeted us with banners and hugs. Despite being thousands of miles away from family, his warmness eased the blow. After settling in, the six of us stationed in Legazpi ventured to get nearby Chinese food, which is always much tastier and richer than the Chinese food in the States. The history of the Chinese presence and the “Chinese Mestizos” who emerged over the centuries is a culture worthy of explanation on its own. The food in Legazpi truly embodied Filipino culture. Every meal was succulent.
In Legazpi, schools truly embed culture, a topic elaborated on in this blog. However, culture also surfaced in the night markets, where people sold street food and handcrafts as the sun set over the bay. We took their “tricycles” to get there, which were three-wheeled motorized bikes with a side cart. I ate some birria tacos from a quaint taco stand, and they were the best tacos I’ve had outside of the States and Mexico. Given the region’s history, I should not have been surprised by the deliciousness.
On another night, we had dinner with Judge Carlo Martin Adille, a local renowned judge and former president of Legazi City Science High’s Parent-Teacher Association. He offered us one of the best meals I’ve ever had during my time in the Philippines. The taste was a stark reminder that, like New Orleans, the best traditional dishes exist on the dinner tables throughout the Philippines. Judge Adille discussed his desire to assist the school his daughter attends. His fundraising is apparently one of the reasons that some classes at Legazi City Science High have AC. He also told us about his LDS faith; I was unaware that the LDS Church made such headway in the Philippines. After a succulent meal and a wonderful chat, we ventured to his roof to get a nighttime view of Legazpi. As we looked at the beautiful lights under a hiding volcano, Judge Adille expressed his desire to do more to help his city. I left the home with my stomach and heart filled. A home visit is always a special experience.
On our last day in Bicol, we took a trip to various sites, including the Philippine Ceramics Arts and Crafts Center in the small town of Tiwi, which is also home to a geothermal power plant. That was my first time trying to make pottery, and I’d like to think I did a decent job – don’t tell me otherwise. It was also quite fun to mold a dish out of clay within almost minutes. It seemed that pottery was rather popular in the rural areas – not just in a token way – but in a way where folks still heavily rely on it.
Afterwards, we went to a restaurant overlooking the Mayon volcano to eat our last meal in Albay. I had a seafood dish cooked in a rich coconut sauce. The texture felt familiar but the taste was foreign. It was delicious, of course.
At the airport, we said our farewells to our gracious Legazpi hosts. Edgar and I took one last photo. I hope to repay his kindness back in New Orleans one day.
To be honest, I did not want to return to Manila as I felt our time in Legazpi was too short, and I already enjoyed the students I was fortunate to teach – albeit briefly. The pace of Legazpi was much more my speed. There was a community feel to the city that was absent in Manila. I took one last photo of the volcano before I boarded the plane as it showed its peak, just as it did the day we arrived. According to local legend, this meant our visit was a blessing.
Back in Manila
Back in Manila, the Fulbright team ensured to expose us to the rich culture of the Philippines. After we toured Intramuros, the ancient walled city, they took us to a restaurant that had a buffet of endless Filipino dishes, including desserts. After the meal, we had the opportunity to watch multiple styles of Filipino traditional dances from various regions of the country. In just one afternoon, we saw almost a dozen cultural dances, highlighting the true diversity of the archipelago. The Asik is a traditional solo folk dance from the Muslim Moro ethnic groups of Mindanao. Singkil is a famous royal Maranao dance where dancers weave skillfully through closing/crisscrossing bamboo poles to simulate a legendary forest. Pandanggo sa llaw is a famous folk dance that originated in Mindoro in which dancers remarkably balance oil lamps (tinghoy) atop their heads. These elaborate dances showcased not just tradition but resilience as many seemed to be speaking against outsiders who sought to suppress culture. I’ve rarely witnessed such a rich and mesmerizing culture on full display in one performance.
As with all major cities I have visited, I had to experience a touch of the nightlife – a defining aspect of a city’s culture. Teacher Love, from the AHA Center, took a few of us to The Spirits Library, a bar that had a massive library of alcohol – complete with ladders for bartenders to reach the top shelves.
We then traversed P Burgos Street, Manila’s famous red light district. Bright neon lights lined the streets as partygoers eagerly sought their vices. We visited two New Orleans themed bars, which were interesting. They had Saints memorabilia, Dixie beer signs, and everything that resembled a bar at home. It made me happy to know that the reputation of my home city is global.
Reflection
The culture and community of the Philippines is arguably one of the richest I’ve ever experienced. It is vast, diverse, and one of survival. Filipinos woven culture throughout song, dance, food, and story. It is their love language that they want all visitors to feel. Filipinos celebrate their captivating culture through communities in rich and empowering ways. No blog, book, or video will ever give it proper justice – only experiencing it will give a slight taste. Still, I recognize that I have barely scratched the surface of what this dynamic and beautiful country offers. The rich culture has left a significant impact on me in ways that are difficult to describe. For that reason and much more, I must revisit.
Chris Dier 