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Wednesday, December 18, 2013

Journal entry

Along with this blog, I started a journal for myself when I began my Peace Corps journey last July. It started off as a daily monitoring of my happenings, before going on hiatus when dengue hit me (knock on wood; don't want round two to strike) last August. But I picked it back up again after arriving in Tabaco. The journal is a bit more raw now; a way for me to jot down something important or a thought that visits my brain. No longer an everyday occurrence. It presently sits at a whopping 49 pages (with 9 more months to go!).

I normally like to keep journal entry's to myself, using this blog as a way to expand and share various topics. But I feel compelled to share a recent entry. Background: this entry was drafted up after a previous conversation with a few other PC volunteers the night before Typhoon Haiyan struck. 

November 26, 2013 - One thought that I just remember I stated a few weeks back the night of the typhoon (not at all related but nonetheless important): “eras” or “ages” come and go without us even realizing it. Looking back on history, how many people actually realized what was happening when it was happening? Like the environmental movement in the 60s. Or even previous World Wars. Or a presidential assassination. We never know exactly how our lives are going to pan out and how the little things we see on the news or throughout our day could end up impacting our world much farther down the line. Even something like music. How much it has changed since I was a teenager. And how my tastes and preferences have changed with what happens around me. So how do we attribute the world around us to our likes and dislikes? Our passions and desires? Are we wearing masks all the time? Are we just going with the trends, afraid to partake in a paradigm shift? Or are we contributing to that change and are the trendsetters ourselves? Bottomline, there are so many external influences that subconsciously influence who we are and who we become. But staying true to your personal attributes and really knowing yourself is the most important thing you can do to differentiate and blaze new trails in a world driven by a competitive lust.

Thursday, December 12, 2013

Lost in translation

I have been blessed with the ability to pick up foreign languages quickly. But to be fair, I'm not the greatest at staying motivated for retention purposes. I guess I'd like to think of myself as more of an experiential learner these days. Learning on the fly, out in the world, instead of hunched over a textbook or dictionary. And language is one of the best areas of study for this. I can walk around my city and have constant interaction. There is always someone new around, either a group of young kids walking to school or an elderly woman washing clothes. They are always mesmerized by the fact that I can converse with them in their own language (I'm fairly adept in Tagalog and have picked up a bit of the regional dialect Bicol-Albay from locals). The problem I have is that despite my persistence with Tagalog, a majority of these conversations always resort back to English.

I have asked myself over and over again, "why is this?" American influence back in the early 20th Century? English taught in schools? Their perceptions of me as an English-speaking westerner? Translation problems? Sure, all of these play a role. But when it comes down to it, English is commonly seen as a universal language in our world today (although not by all countries). It's also a way for them to practice their skills, and for many, as a means to a better life.

And we help facilitate this. Through media. Through everyday interactions. And through acknowledging that everyone we meet probably knows at least a few basic words. This is generally true in the US, but when I joined Peace Corps, I anticipated that adopting a new language would be a top priority. However, the Philippines has a rich Americanized past, one which has integrated the English language firmly into its society. Sure, many of the people I work with, mainly impoverish fisherfolk, don't speak a lick. But others, including many of my coworkers, are very skilled. So much so that when I can't think of a word in Tagalog, I use the English equivalent and assume that my counterparts or community members understand me. Hell, half the time I hope that someone else will speak to me in English so my brain can take a rest.

My mental struggle is over the sense of pride identified with language. I have come to appreciate a part of this as many Filipinos have exclaimed to me, "it brings me so much joy to here you speak our language." They genuinely care when foreigners take the time to immerse themselves in their culture, in their life. Even when I was in Bali, the warm look on people's faces when you said suksma (thank you) shared so much of their internal gratitude.

Whether its me sharing a bit of English vocab with my host family or an exuberant friend enjoying a playful conversation with me in Tagalog, the satisfaction I can see on their faces is something I will always hold dear. And it certainly helps keep my experiential studies going ;) Language is quite a powerful tool.