the kindness of strangers

OK i have about 50 bajillion things to blog about, now that I finally have some time to breathe.  but where to start?

let's start with how NICE everybody is.

answer: SO NICE.

I mean, the people I've interviewed have absolutely overwhelmed me with their kindness.  First they give me their time - up to two and half hours, sometimes, that they take out of their busy days to patiently answer my questions - and they let me ask them questions of an often personal, controversial or sensitive nature.  That is generosity in itself!

And then on top of that - I have been fed home-cooked meals.  I have had platters of fresh fruit placed in front of me as the tape recorder was running, and been given plates of local desserts with orders to try them, tell us what you think, we can talk again after we eat.  I have been given an umbrella, because it was raining, and I didn't have one with me.  I have been given money for the jeepney fare, because I didn't have any small change and the taxis were all full.  I have been given travel advice, and directions, and rides.  I have had taxis hailed for me, with directions in Tagalog for the driver - and strict lectures not to rip me off.  I have been walked to the train station to make sure I don't get lost. I have been invited to rallies, of course, and everyone has tried to teach me Tagalog.  And I have been overwhelmed - I just don't know what to do, how to be properly thankful!  Salamat po, I say, Maraming salamat po, and I switch to English but even there I don't have the words - don't know how to say you shouldn't have, that I should be feeding you, that you are too too kind, and that you have no idea what this means to me that you are so kind.

And not just in my interviews - everybody I meet is just too darn nice to me.  They say "are you traveling alone?" and when I say yes, their eyes grow wide and they say - I will walk with you.  Don't stand there, come in here.  I will call you a taxi.  Do you know where you are going?  Who are you meeting?  What time do you need to catch your bus?  No worries, we will help you.  You said you are hiking alone?  I will find you a woman guide.  Yes, I know where that is - but go down this street, not that one.

I think I might actually be safer traveling alone than I would be if I were with friends, because while I haven't met a single person who has tried to take advantage of me, I have met dozens who were very concerned that I would be taken advantage of.  I walk around shielded by the kindness of strangers, who pass me off one to the other saying "take care of her, brave girl, she's alone!"  Saying "Text me when you get there so I know you're safe, here's my number."  Saying "she's a quarter Filipino, eh?  But speaks no Tagalog!  She is here for the first time.  Feed her something good, opo?"  Telling me, "don't pay him more than 500p, ok?"  Telling me, "the inn isn't open on weekends," but it's raining and dark out, and there's nowhere else nearby, and they look at me for a long moment and hand me the keys to room number 12.

(the moral of the story might be that for everybody back home worrying about me, I promise you there are five people here worrying about me, and between all y'all - and, you know, ME, I think I'll be okay.)

SO NICE!  I have only had one taxi that didn't use its meter - the big warning in all the guidebooks is to only ride metered taxis, at risk of being ripped off.  I told the driver I was worried I would miss my bus (which was why I didn't notice the meter was off, in fact), and he asked where I was going, and he tut-tutted at the fact that the last taxi I took had brought me to the wrong station, and he told me he would get me in time.  As we wove terrifyingly in and out of traffic he told me he had only made it through 6th grade, that he went long enough to learn some English and then his family had pulled him out of school so he could work.  His English was nearly perfect, but he said it was only so-so.  He asked if I had visited any of the squatter communities, said I should, said I couldn't do it alone, I needed a Filipino with me, but that I should go to see the other side of his country.  He said the Philippines was deeply broken in ways that were so hard to fix.

He said, "there's your bus.  No, no, I'll pull up right beside it, it's so dark out.  You have a reservation?  Good.  Go to the ticket booth, no, no, i'll get closer, there you go."  And I said, "your meter!  It's not on!" and laughing at myself - because whatever, sometimes you get ripped off, it happens - I said, "How much am I paying for this trip, huh?"

And he shrugged, and said, "How much can you afford?"

I am 85% sure I paid him less than the meter would have been - I didn't mean to, but I couldn't think about how much it should be.  and I am 100% sure I paid him less than I could afford, 100% sure i paid him less than I should have.  And he just told me to have a good trip to Banaue.

And on the commuter trains, stuffed full to bursting, when there's no room for anybody to move at all, people shift so that I can reach the door.  I don't know why - because I'm white?  because I look so young?  Because I am so clearly out of place?  They let me go first down elevators and escalators, they open doors for me, they translate.

And I want to ask, why are you being so nice?  And Walden tells me that Filipinos love Americans, "which is funny," he says, "you would think after all those years of colonialism there would be more bitterness, but there you go."  And I think that I am so lucky, and I feel so wealthy, so privileged, so guilty.  So grateful.  And I want to say, I am sorry that you are being so nice to me.  I should be so nice to you.  I want to say, I am sorry that I need your help.  I want to say, I am sorry that I am not helping you.  I am sorry that I do not speak Tagalog, that I know so little, I am sorry I cannot give you back what you have given me.

And instead I say, Salamat po.  Maraming salamat po. Thank you, so much - a thousand thanks.