First, he's a pastor, so he is a very busy man, receiving calls by the hour to visit a patient in the hospital, meet someone for dinner, see a friend's band perform, get a couple drinks with a couple he's witnessing to… It never ends, and with the desire to tend his flock and minister to the lost, he's not one to say no to a request. There really is no point in asking what our plans are for tomorrow, or for today, or even for the next hour, because plans change by the minute.
Second, he normally lives alone, so I'm sure he's not used to having someone like me who isn't used to his kind of schedule, who can't understand Tagalog, who is dependent on his plans, and has no other form of transportation or communication but to follow him wherever he goes.
Third, my frustrations stem from what is probably an exaggerated perspective because, this time, I am the only American surrounded by all Filipinos.
During my time with the Navigators, I had a difficult time learning to "go with the flow" and to be patient with not knowing what we were doing from day to day. But even then, I was with seven other Americans, most who were also struggling with this aspect of culture shock.
Whenever I was told we would leave at a certain time, we were able to ask whether they meant "Filipino time" or "American time," and they would understand because they were used to working with Americans and understood the cultural difference (generalized Filipino culture is very loose when it comes to time, often varying from half an hour to three hours late -- and that's completely normal). We would laugh about it.
I remember once we were riding in a van, and I asked if we were going straight to our destination, and I was answered yes and that it would only take two hours. But the trip ended up taking over five hours because we ended up taking like five stops for the drivers' various errands that he never announced to us, and I was frustrated by this. But at least I could vent my frustrations to my American team leader -- and he would tell me that's just part of the culture. That you can never ask someone if you are going "straight" anywhere, because their idea of going "straight" somewhere includes those errands, I suppose. I still don't understand why it's so hard to get a straight answer (pun unintended) from anyone.
But now, I am the only American, the only outsider, the only one who is driven crazy by the lack of schedule and details about what we are doing.
Even more so, I'm the kind of person who needs to emotionally and mentally process through the events of the day ahead of me in order to function. When I'm stressed, I make lists, I plan out every hour of the day on my calendar, I even cry. I need my alone time, and I don't mean just a two-hour block of time; I need a whole evening so I have time to settle into my alone time, and then slowly make my way out of it.
So with all that said, all of these cultural, occupational and personality differences stick out to me like a sore thumb, and I'm finding myself easily annoyed and frustrated with everything.
This all may seem trivial to you, but it's driving me insane. And the fact that it is is what frustrates me the most.
I'm frustrated because I thought that after seven weeks of living in this culture, I would be used to this by now.
I'm frustrated because it's so hard for me to just let go of all control, of all personal time and preference, and just submit myself as a guest in this country.
I'm frustrated because I feel like a slave to my tired body and emotions.
I'm frustrated because I'm losing sight of the things I thought God was calling me to during my time in ministry; I'm growing numb.
I'm frustrated because I feel trapped without a phone, which would have given me the ability to travel on my own every once in a while, to feel this city as I did in Manila.
And I'm frustrated because I'm not patient, gracious and strong the minute I ask God to make me so.
If anything, this experience is bringing me to my knees every second, begging God to give me His patience, to give me His grace, to give me His strength, to give me His peace. I don't think I've ever been as constantly in prayer, wrestling God for these things, as I have during this past week and as I will in the next week and a half until I return to the States.
I am constantly feeling at my weakest and shortest, which leads me to draw upon God's mercy each day. I am seeing the need to abide in Him all the more, although I can't honestly say that I'm seeing much a difference or that I can see evidence of God working in my heart as a result. Honestly, my prayers often feel empty and redundant, with no weight and no promise for an outcome.
But if I know anything about God, it is that He is faithful. And because He is my Father, I know He listens to me. And though I can't see them right now, I am committed to trusting that God is producing the fruits of the Spirit within me.
love
joy
peace
patience
kindness
goodness
gentleness
faithfulness
self-control
They are but a seed in my soul, some growing a little faster than others, but I have full confidence that they will reach full blossom under the faithful, steady hand of Jesus.
And now, as my best friend Joy reminded me to do, I want to be thankful in the midst of frustrations.
I am thankful for an uncle who is gracious enough to take me in, give me his bed, feed me, adjust his schedule for me, show me around, take me to beautiful spots, and even make me do things that make me uncomfortable because I am insecure -- but he is proud of me and confident in my abilities.
I am thankful for sights that bring back memories, for things that are so good for my soul.
I am thankful for cooler, rainy weather.
I am thankful for the opportunity to share my testimony and what God has taught me about presence here in the Philippines to the young adults ministry at the church.
I am thankful for the opportunity to see the places my Filipino family grew up in -- the neighborhood my mom and uncle would play in, the base my dad was stationed at, the chapel my parents got married in, and the school my late Lola worked at.
I am thankful for late-night talks, American snacks and falling asleep to the Olympics with a new friend.
We spent some time in one of Manny "Pacman" Pacquiao's training centers in Manila,
watching his band practice for their concert this past Saturday, where Manny gave
his testimony and preached the Gospel. Manny is a famous Filipino boxer, a really
big deal here in the Philippines, and he recently accepted Christ. It was so cool to see
him preach and share his life with so many people in the Araneta Center, a large
coliseum in Manila (which my uncle says my Lolo helped build!). Unfortunately
I didn't get to meet him because he left right away, but we did have VIP seats
up front during the event because my uncle is friends with Manny's pastor!
With the young adults at Clark Field Baptist Church, the church my uncle pastors.
I shared my testimony and experiences here in the Philippines with them and hung
out with them for the afternoon. We had lunch together, in the style of a
"boodle fight," in which the food is served on a bunch of banana leaves
on a long table, we eat with our bare hands and it's ever many for himself as
far as how much food you get, haha. I think I'll stick with utensils in the future...
On the drive into the mountains on our way to Subic! My uncle took me
and the lady drummer of his band (Pescadores), Lash, to spend a night
at the Venezia Hotel in Subic. Lash is a year older than me, and it was
nice having another girl about my age to hang out with!
Enjoying the nightlife of Subic, getting a drink, watching a
band play and playing pool while the storm raged on.
Camayan Beach in Subic. We ate brunch at an
outdoor restaurant right on the shore as it rained.
On Monday, I went with my uncle and a few of his friends to visit the Badjaos
on the riverside. One of the men with us was inspecting the community to see
what their biggest needs were, assessing that they needed their own water pump
for clean water. The Badjaos are called the "people of the sea." According to my
uncle, they used to live in houses on the sea, making their business in fishing.
But they were harassed by pirates and moved to land, living close to the water.
But the river that this community lives by, the Sacobia River, is too small to
sustain themselves. But they don't steal. The most decent thing they can do is
beg, and as a result, they are looked down upon. Because of the discrimination
in the Philippines, many have migrated to Malaysia or Indonesia.
As they inspected the community, I walked around, taking pictures.
The kids swarmed around me, wanting me to take pictures of them.
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