A SIMPLE TRIP TO THE MARKET? YOU DECIDE
It’s Thursday morning and Chris has agreed to substitute teach for the Home-Economics class at Faith Academy. She is up before the crack of dawn to prepare, shower and get ready and of course check her email before she leaves. She heads out the door at 6:30 grabbing the keys for our gate along the way. She goes down the steps, unlocks the pad lock to the gate that keeps our property secure, swings the gate open and hops in the car. She slowly backs out so the car won’t bottom out as she goes over the large transition from our driveway to the road. Then she gets out of the car, closes the gate and snakes her hand through the chain link fence and secures the property once again and then hops back into the car and drives about 10 minutes to Faith Academy.
[Allow me to describe the process I usually endure when I leave the premises. I head out the door, down the stairs, get to the driveway and realize I need the keys to open the gate. Back up the stairs and into the house and grab the keys. I go and unlock the gate, swing it open and return the keys to the proper place in the house. I head back out and get to my motorcycle and remember the helmet is in the house. Back into the house grab the helmet, out the door, hop on the cycle and drive just far enough so I can grab the gate and pull it to the point where I need to move forward again, pull the gate repeating the process until the gate is finally closed. Then I realize I need to get off the cycle, go back inside the gate and lock it because my hand is too big to snake through the chain link fence to lock it. So I lock it from the inside and exit through the pedestrian gate and 45 minutes later I am on my way!]
So Chris is gone by 6:30, what is Alex doing? I’m happy to report I got to sleep in for another whole hour! After some quiet time, I check my Threads of Hope email. Yesterday I woke up to eight emails to respond to and seven more as the day progressed. Today there was only two to start off my day. One of the emails came as a result of the Hrens, Strauss’s and Woulf’s selling the bracelets at a craft show. The family was so inspired by our mission that they bought fifty bracelets and then contacted me through our website (www.threadsofhope.com.ph). They wanted to order school colors for poor kids in their community while helping poor kids here in the Philippines as well. Many thanks to our friends and family helping out in the US to make this ministry a success!
We have been invited to attend and speak at a local pastor’s seminar tomorrow to demonstrate how the gospel bracelets can be used as an effective tool to connect with kids in their communities while sharing the good news of salvation through faith in Jesus Christ. A volunteer with Child Evangelism Fellowship here in the Philippines found our website with a Google search and contacted me to arrange a meeting. After meeting with them, they invited us to their pastor’s seminar because they wanted to support a ministry that would not only help them, but also bless the poor here in the Philippines.
From the seminar we need to head straight to Puerto Galera for the remainder of the weekend. We will be picking up an order of bracelets, checking out the property we hope to purchase as the site for the new chapel/community center, and, of course, attend the Sunday worship service. Next month we will be attending the church’s very first wedding ceremony where we have been invited to sit at the head table as the special guests of honor.
So what does all this mean for today? We need to go to the market to buy thread and beads to take with us to Puerto Galera. (For those of you that have not heard, this is the same market that I had my wallet pick-pocketed from me just the week before.) So I sat down and figured out what colors would be needed for all the custom orders that have been coming in. I called our supplier and placed the order in advance so it would be ready for us when we arrived because I like to be efficient when the opportunity presents itself, (unlike leaving the house and closing the gate).
By now Chris has returned home from her double block first hour Home Economics class. She changed into more casual extra modest, durable clothes “in case we got kidnapped” so that she would be more comfortable during the whole ordeal…(she tends to be “the glass is half empty” kind of person). We head out the door at 10am and this time leaving is much more efficient since we are both there, but it is still a process.
From our house we have about 30 minutes to debate and discuss if we will drive the whole way or park our car and take the train. A round trip to the market is 35 miles and will take two hours in one direction to get there. The train will take 17 minutes to cover the same ground. Maneuvering through Manila traffic is an all out battle for position. Nothing beats a well timed strategically placed “cutting off” of another driver, especially if it is a bus or jeepney or any other form of public transportation. Most of the time I have to hang my head in shame as they expertly beat me to the space I thought was already mine. Following at a safe distance is completely foreign here. A safe distance only gives your opponent opportunity to exploit your cowardly driving skills.
So the train must seem like a no-brainer, but you need more information. Once the train arrives at the final destination we will still need to walk or take a Jeepney to the place where we purchase the thread about a mile away. Why walk? Because it is often faster than taking the Jeepney and as a foreigner (with a very large sum of money in my pocket for the supplies) it is not the safest mode of transportation. Recently some friends of ours had a guest visit that wanted the cultural experience of riding on a Jeepney. While stopped at a traffic light, her earrings were ripped from her ears right through the open window from a person walking by outside of the Jeepney. Often the drivers will work in connection with these people cluing them in to the fact that they have a target on board and giving them their location. Furthermore we would be carrying 72 boxes, each holding 12 balls of thread, back to the train after making our purchase, not to mention the hassle of going through the search and inspection by the armed guard required before getting on the train.
Ok, it is settled, we will drive the 17.5 mile 2 hour trip to the market. For those of you who are mathematically challenged, that is a blistering average of 8.75 miles per hour! Chris decided to take her camera to frustrate herself with each picture she missed while driving through traffic, but still manages to get several good shots.
Upon our arrival at the market two hours later, we found a spot relatively near to the shop where I purchase the thread. I step out of the car and am immediately hit by a wave of heat and humidity and let’s not forget a stench that will test even the most seasoned travelers gag-reflex (very similar to the smell at the government hospital I recently visited, but that’s a whole other story). Then I’m greeted by a street parking attendant and pay my 30 pesos for the spot.
Within moments I’m approached by a woman holding her child dressed in rags begging for money. We have learned (the hard way) to not give in to them, first, because they are often the professional pick-pockets, and second, if you give money to one you will be harassed the rest of the time by all the other beggars wanting a hand-out.
Before we left, Chris decided to drink some water, lots of water! Nature ran its course so she needed to find a CR which stands for comfort room. This of course is an oxy-moron because they are anything but comfortable, and sanitary doesn’t even enter the picture.
Ok, now that that is taken care of we head back out into the heat, humidity and smell of what is known as “Divasoria” and I’m hit up for money by another beggar. We are almost to the shop and one more woman wants money from me before I can finally meet with our supplier, (supplier of “thread” that is), just a 5 minute walk from our car.
My efficiency has paid off, the order is all ready! I introduce Chris to the Chinese girl who speaks 4 languages very well that supplies us with our thread. I pay for it thus relieving myself of 15,000 pesos (and a lot of stress) or just under $350 (several months wages for most of the people at this market). The shop manager has one of the men cart our purchase to our car for us. I tip him twenty pesos and secure our car as we go to look for a backpack while Chris takes pictures along the way.
After about 30 minutes I find the backpack I want and pay 350 pesos or about $8 (both buckles and a seam broke the first time I used it) and we head back to the car with one more encounter with a beggar along the way. It is so difficult when this happens! We know they are poor, but we don’t know why. Are they for real or just con artists or pick pockets. You want to help but at the same time you feel taken advantage of, frustrated or even violated. If you help one, they will hit you from all sides hanging on you, clinging to you, pulling at your clothes until you give in. You feel vulnerable helping someone outside the safety of your car where you can close the window and lock the doors. It’s hard!
It’s about 1:00pm now and we are back to the safety of our car headed to the Quiapo market where we buy the beads. It is only about a mile or two away but it will take 20-30 minutes to get there. I have only been to the bead shop once so I’m not completely sure where to go, but once in the neighborhood I start to recognize things so I look for a parking spot. After driving around it becomes evident that we will not be finding a parking place in close proximity to where we want to go so I head towards a nearby mall and park in the ramp. The first 3 levels are all reserved parking, the fourth level is full and we finally find a place to park on the fifth level of the ramp.
From the parking ramp we make our way into the mall and down to the ground level where once again we are back out into the heat, humidity and smell of the streets of Manila. We walk for about a quarter of a mile till we come to the huge Quiapo Catholic Church. Now I know I’m within a quarter of a mile of the place where we buy the beads but before moving on, Chris wants a picture from just inside the side door of the church. Upon leaving, a little boy about the age of 6 or 7 clings to me with both arms and says in perfect English with no accent, “Daddy feed me, feed me Daddy, Daddy feed me, feed me Daddy”. He continued to hold on to me as I attempted to break away, all the time repeating the phrase over and over again. This is a tactic used to try and shame you into giving them money as on lookers stare at you and wonder why the rich foreigner won’t feed his child. Did I mention this was hard?
After finally breaking his grip we continued towards our destination and in just a few short minutes later we were at the DIY (Do It Yourself) bead shop. We found what we wanted but they didn’t have enough in their inventory so we agreed to wait while one of the workers went to get more. When ten minutes went buy we said we were going to look at some other shops while we were waiting and promised we would return to buy the beads. Of course they thought this meant we were going to look for a better deal at other shops so to assure them that we would return Chris left her umbrella as a good faith gesture that we would be back. When we returned they had the 1000 beads (and more) that we planned to purchase and would soon be threaded into future bracelets. They were grateful for the sale.
We stopped by a few shops that sold handmade native products on the way back to our car where Chris found a basket to put on our desk to help keep papers organized. While walking to our car I noticed a street vendor selling Mountain Dew in glass bottles. My throat was dry from the heat of the day and breathing in exhaust fumes for the past couple hours. I asked, “makano” and pointed to the Mountain Dew (how much ?). She said twelve pesos, so I nodded my head. She said “plastic?” I said, “Yes thank you”. Now to most of you I would guess that this means she will put the bottle of Mountain Dew into a plastic bag, and you would be right to a degree. What it actually means is that she will pour the contents of the bottle into a plastic bag so that she can keep the bottle and get her deposit back, and then she will put a straw into the plastic bag so you can drink it.
Nearby were two little boys wearing filthy rags, looking like they haven’t bathed in a month, yet not begging for money. We bought a couple biscuits from the street vendor and gave them each one as they looked up at us with their big brown eyes. It was a risk but we were close to the mall where we parked our car and beggars would not be allowed to pursue us inside. Almost to the entrance of the mall, one last little girl pointed to my plastic bag of Mountain Dew with just a few precious swallows left and asked if she could have the rest. So I gave her the last of my sacred nectar and entered the sanctuary of the mall.
Before returning to the car, Chris insisted on buying hand sanitizer before entering our car and touching anything! We got to our car and it was now about 3:00 pm. We descended from the parking ramp, paid 40 pesos for parking and we were now back onto the crowded streets of Manila. By this time we were fairly hungry since we hadn’t eaten lunch yet. We decided we needed to de-stress from the day, and, although we weren’t dressed for it, we stopped at a very upscale mall that was half-way back to our house. We were a bit dirty from the day’s events, but this was the only mall that had a real Taco Bell and we needed a break, so we stopped.
We were in and out in about 30 minutes. It was a real treat! We paid our 30 pesos for parking and were on our way back home. After another 30 minutes in traffic we were finally getting close to our own stomping grounds. We passed by Sta Lucia Mall where we would often go on our nights off in years past. A little of the stress from the day started to leave my body as I entered into familiar territory. Ten minutes later we were turning onto Sumulong Hwy and a little more stress left as the roads become less congested. Ten more minutes and we are turning into Valley Golf, through the gate and into a private subdivision greeted by a salute from guards wielding firearms making about $7 a day for a twelve hour shift. Five minutes more and we would we pass through another gate with another armed guard at the top of Santana Hill (a steep 400 yard street that we had our dorm boys push our car up for the past six years). We passed by the Unification Theology Seminary where we see several young students being brain washed into the teachings of the Rev. Moon also known as the Moonies.
A minute later we are on Tak Tak, a gravel and mud road filled with lots of pot holes and ruts created with the help of rainy season. This is a road that Faith Academy actually paid to have surfaced only to have the contractor run off with the money. Since most contractors don’t have enough money to pay for the materials ahead of time and aren’t willing to take out a loan because of people that don’t pay upon completion of the project, you need to pay in advance. Faith Academy got burned! I was burned in a similar way when I contracted to have a VW Beetle restored for our dorm boys to drive to and from school several years ago. You just don’t know who you can trust.
Once we maneuvered our way across Tak Tak we passed through another guarded gate and entered a small squatter village where we interrupted a game of pick-up basketball being played in the street for a moment as we drove through. We are now on one of the most peaceful, smoothest stretches of road in all of Manila and if I were to use my imagination, I could almost think I was driving down a highway in northern Wisconsin bordered with large beautiful trees. It is undoubtedly this nice because on it you will find, “The Parish of the Immaculate Heart of Mary” situated right in the middle of this mile long stretch of road.
We are minutes from our house as we pass through another pickup game of basketball and one last guarded gate and into our subdivision. We get to our house and Chris gets out the car and snakes her hand through the fence and unlocks the padlock securing the property. She manipulates the mechanisms holding the gate in place and opens it so that I can drive through closing and locking it behind me.
It is now 7 hours and 10 minutes from the time we left for Divasoria this morning. Chris enters the bathroom and looks at herself in the mirror, smiles and says, “at least I got a little color today” and I’m thinking, “How in the world did she get a tan during our time at the market?” After taking her shower she emerges from the bathroom with a frown on her face and says, “Never mind!”
The day has been an assault on our sense of sight, our sense of hearing, our sense of touch, our sense of smell and taste. It has been an assault on our minds, and an assault on our emotions, so why do we put ourselves through it all? After all they can buy thread and beads on the island where they live! But on their island a ball of thread costs about six pesos more than what it costs at Divasoria and a bead is about four pesos more than what it costs in Quiapo. We bought about 1000 balls of thread and 1000 beads. That’s a savings of about 10,000 pesos every month which can feed an entire family for a couple months. That is why we make a “simple” trip to the market!
It’s Thursday morning and Chris has agreed to substitute teach for the Home-Economics class at Faith Academy. She is up before the crack of dawn to prepare, shower and get ready and of course check her email before she leaves. She heads out the door at 6:30 grabbing the keys for our gate along the way. She goes down the steps, unlocks the pad lock to the gate that keeps our property secure, swings the gate open and hops in the car. She slowly backs out so the car won’t bottom out as she goes over the large transition from our driveway to the road. Then she gets out of the car, closes the gate and snakes her hand through the chain link fence and secures the property once again and then hops back into the car and drives about 10 minutes to Faith Academy.
[Allow me to describe the process I usually endure when I leave the premises. I head out the door, down the stairs, get to the driveway and realize I need the keys to open the gate. Back up the stairs and into the house and grab the keys. I go and unlock the gate, swing it open and return the keys to the proper place in the house. I head back out and get to my motorcycle and remember the helmet is in the house. Back into the house grab the helmet, out the door, hop on the cycle and drive just far enough so I can grab the gate and pull it to the point where I need to move forward again, pull the gate repeating the process until the gate is finally closed. Then I realize I need to get off the cycle, go back inside the gate and lock it because my hand is too big to snake through the chain link fence to lock it. So I lock it from the inside and exit through the pedestrian gate and 45 minutes later I am on my way!]
So Chris is gone by 6:30, what is Alex doing? I’m happy to report I got to sleep in for another whole hour! After some quiet time, I check my Threads of Hope email. Yesterday I woke up to eight emails to respond to and seven more as the day progressed. Today there was only two to start off my day. One of the emails came as a result of the Hrens, Strauss’s and Woulf’s selling the bracelets at a craft show. The family was so inspired by our mission that they bought fifty bracelets and then contacted me through our website (www.threadsofhope.com.ph). They wanted to order school colors for poor kids in their community while helping poor kids here in the Philippines as well. Many thanks to our friends and family helping out in the US to make this ministry a success!
We have been invited to attend and speak at a local pastor’s seminar tomorrow to demonstrate how the gospel bracelets can be used as an effective tool to connect with kids in their communities while sharing the good news of salvation through faith in Jesus Christ. A volunteer with Child Evangelism Fellowship here in the Philippines found our website with a Google search and contacted me to arrange a meeting. After meeting with them, they invited us to their pastor’s seminar because they wanted to support a ministry that would not only help them, but also bless the poor here in the Philippines.
From the seminar we need to head straight to Puerto Galera for the remainder of the weekend. We will be picking up an order of bracelets, checking out the property we hope to purchase as the site for the new chapel/community center, and, of course, attend the Sunday worship service. Next month we will be attending the church’s very first wedding ceremony where we have been invited to sit at the head table as the special guests of honor.
So what does all this mean for today? We need to go to the market to buy thread and beads to take with us to Puerto Galera. (For those of you that have not heard, this is the same market that I had my wallet pick-pocketed from me just the week before.) So I sat down and figured out what colors would be needed for all the custom orders that have been coming in. I called our supplier and placed the order in advance so it would be ready for us when we arrived because I like to be efficient when the opportunity presents itself, (unlike leaving the house and closing the gate).
By now Chris has returned home from her double block first hour Home Economics class. She changed into more casual extra modest, durable clothes “in case we got kidnapped” so that she would be more comfortable during the whole ordeal…(she tends to be “the glass is half empty” kind of person). We head out the door at 10am and this time leaving is much more efficient since we are both there, but it is still a process.
From our house we have about 30 minutes to debate and discuss if we will drive the whole way or park our car and take the train. A round trip to the market is 35 miles and will take two hours in one direction to get there. The train will take 17 minutes to cover the same ground. Maneuvering through Manila traffic is an all out battle for position. Nothing beats a well timed strategically placed “cutting off” of another driver, especially if it is a bus or jeepney or any other form of public transportation. Most of the time I have to hang my head in shame as they expertly beat me to the space I thought was already mine. Following at a safe distance is completely foreign here. A safe distance only gives your opponent opportunity to exploit your cowardly driving skills.
So the train must seem like a no-brainer, but you need more information. Once the train arrives at the final destination we will still need to walk or take a Jeepney to the place where we purchase the thread about a mile away. Why walk? Because it is often faster than taking the Jeepney and as a foreigner (with a very large sum of money in my pocket for the supplies) it is not the safest mode of transportation. Recently some friends of ours had a guest visit that wanted the cultural experience of riding on a Jeepney. While stopped at a traffic light, her earrings were ripped from her ears right through the open window from a person walking by outside of the Jeepney. Often the drivers will work in connection with these people cluing them in to the fact that they have a target on board and giving them their location. Furthermore we would be carrying 72 boxes, each holding 12 balls of thread, back to the train after making our purchase, not to mention the hassle of going through the search and inspection by the armed guard required before getting on the train.
Ok, it is settled, we will drive the 17.5 mile 2 hour trip to the market. For those of you who are mathematically challenged, that is a blistering average of 8.75 miles per hour! Chris decided to take her camera to frustrate herself with each picture she missed while driving through traffic, but still manages to get several good shots.
Upon our arrival at the market two hours later, we found a spot relatively near to the shop where I purchase the thread. I step out of the car and am immediately hit by a wave of heat and humidity and let’s not forget a stench that will test even the most seasoned travelers gag-reflex (very similar to the smell at the government hospital I recently visited, but that’s a whole other story). Then I’m greeted by a street parking attendant and pay my 30 pesos for the spot.
Within moments I’m approached by a woman holding her child dressed in rags begging for money. We have learned (the hard way) to not give in to them, first, because they are often the professional pick-pockets, and second, if you give money to one you will be harassed the rest of the time by all the other beggars wanting a hand-out.
Before we left, Chris decided to drink some water, lots of water! Nature ran its course so she needed to find a CR which stands for comfort room. This of course is an oxy-moron because they are anything but comfortable, and sanitary doesn’t even enter the picture.
Ok, now that that is taken care of we head back out into the heat, humidity and smell of what is known as “Divasoria” and I’m hit up for money by another beggar. We are almost to the shop and one more woman wants money from me before I can finally meet with our supplier, (supplier of “thread” that is), just a 5 minute walk from our car.
My efficiency has paid off, the order is all ready! I introduce Chris to the Chinese girl who speaks 4 languages very well that supplies us with our thread. I pay for it thus relieving myself of 15,000 pesos (and a lot of stress) or just under $350 (several months wages for most of the people at this market). The shop manager has one of the men cart our purchase to our car for us. I tip him twenty pesos and secure our car as we go to look for a backpack while Chris takes pictures along the way.
After about 30 minutes I find the backpack I want and pay 350 pesos or about $8 (both buckles and a seam broke the first time I used it) and we head back to the car with one more encounter with a beggar along the way. It is so difficult when this happens! We know they are poor, but we don’t know why. Are they for real or just con artists or pick pockets. You want to help but at the same time you feel taken advantage of, frustrated or even violated. If you help one, they will hit you from all sides hanging on you, clinging to you, pulling at your clothes until you give in. You feel vulnerable helping someone outside the safety of your car where you can close the window and lock the doors. It’s hard!
It’s about 1:00pm now and we are back to the safety of our car headed to the Quiapo market where we buy the beads. It is only about a mile or two away but it will take 20-30 minutes to get there. I have only been to the bead shop once so I’m not completely sure where to go, but once in the neighborhood I start to recognize things so I look for a parking spot. After driving around it becomes evident that we will not be finding a parking place in close proximity to where we want to go so I head towards a nearby mall and park in the ramp. The first 3 levels are all reserved parking, the fourth level is full and we finally find a place to park on the fifth level of the ramp.
From the parking ramp we make our way into the mall and down to the ground level where once again we are back out into the heat, humidity and smell of the streets of Manila. We walk for about a quarter of a mile till we come to the huge Quiapo Catholic Church. Now I know I’m within a quarter of a mile of the place where we buy the beads but before moving on, Chris wants a picture from just inside the side door of the church. Upon leaving, a little boy about the age of 6 or 7 clings to me with both arms and says in perfect English with no accent, “Daddy feed me, feed me Daddy, Daddy feed me, feed me Daddy”. He continued to hold on to me as I attempted to break away, all the time repeating the phrase over and over again. This is a tactic used to try and shame you into giving them money as on lookers stare at you and wonder why the rich foreigner won’t feed his child. Did I mention this was hard?
After finally breaking his grip we continued towards our destination and in just a few short minutes later we were at the DIY (Do It Yourself) bead shop. We found what we wanted but they didn’t have enough in their inventory so we agreed to wait while one of the workers went to get more. When ten minutes went buy we said we were going to look at some other shops while we were waiting and promised we would return to buy the beads. Of course they thought this meant we were going to look for a better deal at other shops so to assure them that we would return Chris left her umbrella as a good faith gesture that we would be back. When we returned they had the 1000 beads (and more) that we planned to purchase and would soon be threaded into future bracelets. They were grateful for the sale.
We stopped by a few shops that sold handmade native products on the way back to our car where Chris found a basket to put on our desk to help keep papers organized. While walking to our car I noticed a street vendor selling Mountain Dew in glass bottles. My throat was dry from the heat of the day and breathing in exhaust fumes for the past couple hours. I asked, “makano” and pointed to the Mountain Dew (how much ?). She said twelve pesos, so I nodded my head. She said “plastic?” I said, “Yes thank you”. Now to most of you I would guess that this means she will put the bottle of Mountain Dew into a plastic bag, and you would be right to a degree. What it actually means is that she will pour the contents of the bottle into a plastic bag so that she can keep the bottle and get her deposit back, and then she will put a straw into the plastic bag so you can drink it.
Nearby were two little boys wearing filthy rags, looking like they haven’t bathed in a month, yet not begging for money. We bought a couple biscuits from the street vendor and gave them each one as they looked up at us with their big brown eyes. It was a risk but we were close to the mall where we parked our car and beggars would not be allowed to pursue us inside. Almost to the entrance of the mall, one last little girl pointed to my plastic bag of Mountain Dew with just a few precious swallows left and asked if she could have the rest. So I gave her the last of my sacred nectar and entered the sanctuary of the mall.
Before returning to the car, Chris insisted on buying hand sanitizer before entering our car and touching anything! We got to our car and it was now about 3:00 pm. We descended from the parking ramp, paid 40 pesos for parking and we were now back onto the crowded streets of Manila. By this time we were fairly hungry since we hadn’t eaten lunch yet. We decided we needed to de-stress from the day, and, although we weren’t dressed for it, we stopped at a very upscale mall that was half-way back to our house. We were a bit dirty from the day’s events, but this was the only mall that had a real Taco Bell and we needed a break, so we stopped.
We were in and out in about 30 minutes. It was a real treat! We paid our 30 pesos for parking and were on our way back home. After another 30 minutes in traffic we were finally getting close to our own stomping grounds. We passed by Sta Lucia Mall where we would often go on our nights off in years past. A little of the stress from the day started to leave my body as I entered into familiar territory. Ten minutes later we were turning onto Sumulong Hwy and a little more stress left as the roads become less congested. Ten more minutes and we are turning into Valley Golf, through the gate and into a private subdivision greeted by a salute from guards wielding firearms making about $7 a day for a twelve hour shift. Five minutes more and we would we pass through another gate with another armed guard at the top of Santana Hill (a steep 400 yard street that we had our dorm boys push our car up for the past six years). We passed by the Unification Theology Seminary where we see several young students being brain washed into the teachings of the Rev. Moon also known as the Moonies.
A minute later we are on Tak Tak, a gravel and mud road filled with lots of pot holes and ruts created with the help of rainy season. This is a road that Faith Academy actually paid to have surfaced only to have the contractor run off with the money. Since most contractors don’t have enough money to pay for the materials ahead of time and aren’t willing to take out a loan because of people that don’t pay upon completion of the project, you need to pay in advance. Faith Academy got burned! I was burned in a similar way when I contracted to have a VW Beetle restored for our dorm boys to drive to and from school several years ago. You just don’t know who you can trust.
Once we maneuvered our way across Tak Tak we passed through another guarded gate and entered a small squatter village where we interrupted a game of pick-up basketball being played in the street for a moment as we drove through. We are now on one of the most peaceful, smoothest stretches of road in all of Manila and if I were to use my imagination, I could almost think I was driving down a highway in northern Wisconsin bordered with large beautiful trees. It is undoubtedly this nice because on it you will find, “The Parish of the Immaculate Heart of Mary” situated right in the middle of this mile long stretch of road.
We are minutes from our house as we pass through another pickup game of basketball and one last guarded gate and into our subdivision. We get to our house and Chris gets out the car and snakes her hand through the fence and unlocks the padlock securing the property. She manipulates the mechanisms holding the gate in place and opens it so that I can drive through closing and locking it behind me.
It is now 7 hours and 10 minutes from the time we left for Divasoria this morning. Chris enters the bathroom and looks at herself in the mirror, smiles and says, “at least I got a little color today” and I’m thinking, “How in the world did she get a tan during our time at the market?” After taking her shower she emerges from the bathroom with a frown on her face and says, “Never mind!”
The day has been an assault on our sense of sight, our sense of hearing, our sense of touch, our sense of smell and taste. It has been an assault on our minds, and an assault on our emotions, so why do we put ourselves through it all? After all they can buy thread and beads on the island where they live! But on their island a ball of thread costs about six pesos more than what it costs at Divasoria and a bead is about four pesos more than what it costs in Quiapo. We bought about 1000 balls of thread and 1000 beads. That’s a savings of about 10,000 pesos every month which can feed an entire family for a couple months. That is why we make a “simple” trip to the market!
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4 comments:
Love it! You are a VERY good writer and we thoroughly enjoyed reading this. Brought back so many memories... leaving the premises, the debate over driving v. train, getting a "tan".... I (Ann) was laughing out loud!! May God continue to bless you for your work there!!
It seems to me that this is the beginning of book material! How very interesting to read!
Love,
Thelma Neal
Nice blog! Don't forget to add the "about me" widget. Even though you have the web address along the bottom, it's nice to have a little photo and maybe a paragraph about yourselves on the top of the right column. ;-)
P.S. I volunteer to be your book editor! :-D
P.P.S Hi, Thelma!
i read your story! joey didn't, but i read the funny stuff out loud. you had us both laughing and reminiscing. you know, if you are going to write a novel every time you have an interesting weekend, you should probably learn how to type. just a thought... ;) love you!
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