Break muna

Destination: Bali, Indonesia.

It's always nice to have a trip lined up as a Peace Corps volunteer. Something to look forward to on those dog days at site. I had been looking forward to this trip since a group of us started planning it in June, and on October 12, it finally arrived. 

7 days. 8 Peace Corps volunteers. 2 hospitable parents. 1 villa. 

2 days scuba diving. 3 days surfing. 1 day of art and culture. 1 candy land power hour. 

PHEnommmenal food. Shark, turtle, and cuttlefish spottings. A WWI wreck dive. An epic wave (to which I got destroyed). 

Balinese pants. A camel strip tease. A waterslide beer bong. And NO RAIN (I say this with enthusiasm since coming from the Philippines, this was truly a blessing). 

I was originally searching for a laid back, chill vacation. Something different from what we experienced last New Years. As our numbers increased, the more I thought this idea was a mere fantasy. But this trip wouldn't have been the same without our cohesive group. It offered everyone something different and in the end, everyone got out of it exactly what they needed. For me, it was that timeout from my "routine." A break muna as we say in the Philippines. A chance to remove myself from the life I had been accustomed to for the past year. 

As I sat around the dinner table my last night in Bali with my two friends Josh and Dan, we discussed this break muna and how this trip became more than we had ever anticipated. And at the perfect time. The following week was our MST conference, where our entire batch gathered to reflect and share on the past year and look ahead to our next one. 

For me, Bali set the tone for my MST and for my year ahead. My last one as a Peace Corps volunteer. Sure I wanted the time away to escape and in a way, to be reacquainted with western life. But it ultimately ended up being the opposite. Bali became more than a break muna, and reminded me that there is still so much more out there. More people to meet. More places to explore. More culture to soak up. In the Philippines and beyond.

 Our home for the week. Not too shabby thanks to Tito and Tita Crow

 The civet; its poop makes the world's most expensive coffee

 Jeff and our tour guide Wayan enjoying the civet coffee. Wayan wasn't a big fan

 Rachael, Russ, and Melissa (L-R) enjoying a nice stroll through the rice fields to our lunch spot, Sari Organic

 Waiting for the smoke to clear??

 A Balinese temple in Ubud

The Monkey Forest in Ubud. How many can you spot?

Routines

It’s very easy to fall into the day-in, day-out patterns of our busy lives. Wake up and grab a quick bite to eat before heading off to work or class, only to return to your home in the early evening. Maybe you mix it up and grab dinner with a friend or catch happy hour with some coworkers. Or maybe you hit the gym or go for a run before settling in for dinner, catch a primetime TV show or lounge with a favorite book before heading to bed. Repeat.

I was enjoying the fact that my life in the Philippines didn't lock me into a daily schedule. Constant nuances throughout my first year here kept me on my toes and sparked my curiosity. But it seems the times have finally caught up to me. Or maybe I have just caught up to the Philippines.

These past two months or so have flown by like no other, partly because I have developed a daily routine. Or so I think. To briefly walk you through…I typically wake up a little later these days (because my work allows me to). Sometimes I work from home; other days I will head to my Agriculture Office or the World Wildlife Fund office nearby. I work til 12 before heading home to have lunch prepared by my host family. Work concludes at 5, at which time I like to stop to grab pandesal (a bready wonder treat made by gods) for my afternoon merienda (snack). I try and workout at my house before cooking dinner for myself, then a little light reading or a TV show on my laptop before hittin’ the hay. Again…repeat.

Now, are routines a be all and end all evil? Not at all. A lot of times having a routine allows us to be incredibly efficient. Or provides us with some stability or continuity. Some of my most productive work has occurred in the past two months. I've designed four new proposals for upcoming projects (including my internship proposal for my Master’s), helped update the municipal fisherfolk database, and conducted several coastal cleanups in nearby barangays.  I've played in several local basketball tournaments, and had a few leisurely weekends with other volunteers and Filipinos. But for me looking back, it’s the feeling that that isn’t enough. That I could still be doing more. More work, more social activities, more cultural interaction.

Then I have a night like I did two weeks ago where you fully grasp that impact of what you’re doing and the appreciation others have for it. Once again, I was sharing my story as a Peace Corps volunteer.  Why I am here, what I do, how I live, etc. etc. The usual. This time with a bunch of basketball teammates after one of our games. I was repeatedly asked, “So why are you here?” I explain. But then I get, “So why are you STILL here?” I sat there a bit shocked because I had never been asked that before. But it didn't take me long to respond. “Because I want to be here. This is where I belong right now.” With that, my friends were stunned. Just the look on their faces gave me the most overwhelming feeling of humility, gratitude, and acceptance (I’m hoping it was that and not that we had knocked back one too many San Mig Lights ;)).

It is these moments that make routines not so routine. And that make ordinary days extraordinary.

I am now into my last 12 months of service. They say the time goes even faster now. Our daily routines always seem to make us say, “Jeez where did the time go?” I can guarantee I’ll be saying that when I COS (close of service) next year. Or years from now. “Wow my Peace Corps service is already over?!” Well…here’s to hoping I remember all those extraordinary days.