It is ok? (or how Kenny never has any idea what’s going on)

7-10
At least I never get bored here. I knew I was to begin working with the other center (Tibag) here in Montalban this week. But I’d already been to the church that holds the Tibag center and met one of the pastors, so I figured, no big deal, right? Just another center, and I’m already here. But apparently, I wasn’t.

Monday came with really no instructions about what I was to be doing. So I got up at my usual 6:30 and was ready to go before 8. But nothing happened. Pastor Manny said we were waiting on the other pastors. So I did some journaling and hung out in the A/C of my room, no big deal, I’m used to waiting. Pastor Manny mentioned going to some kind of touristy thing. Ten o’clock rolled around and we finally climbed into the XLT (the truck Pastor Manny has been driving me around in all week) and we pick up Rigel, the FH staff at the Curayao center. Five minutes of discussion somehow brings us to the conclusion that we should sit in the truck outside the church waiting on the pastors some more. Eventually the pastors show up and we somehow decide that we (me, Pastor Manny and his daughter) should go to this touristy thing without them (the other pastors and Rigel). So we waited for like 3 hours for people who didn’t come with us.

The “tourist thing” ended up being a cool little river flowing between two mountains. There are some Filipino legends about the mountains and a really old dam (Wawa Dam) left over from Spanish colonization (sadly, didn’t get too close to the dam) and in general, it was kind of cool. And then we got back in the XLT and headed back to the other center and picked up Rigel and headed back to the house where we had started for lunch. At this point, Rigel tells me I’m moving in with the other pastors for my time at the Tibag center. Again, clueless as to how this decision was arrived at, as the original plan for me staying in Montalban past Sunday was so I wouldn’t have to move. So I pack, two days ahead of schedule, we eat lunch, and then we wait. I’m told we’re leaving at 1:30, 2 rolls around and we’re still waiting (Filipino time). We eventually pick up the other pastors and head to Pastor Buddy’s house. And we’ve got a whole bunch of lumber in the XLT. Once we get to Pastor Buddy’s house they then begin to construct my bed out of the lumber in the XLT while I wait, yet again, in the church. Despite the fact that I know Pastor Armond is supposed to be my translator, he says nothing to me in English while we hang out in the office for half an hour or so. This is yet another Filipino thing, in which despite years of English study, the sight of an American causes them to become so shy they won’t say anything.

While my bed is still being constructed Pastor Armond finally informs me we’re going to do some community visits “it is ok?” Yes, it’s ok. So off we go into Tibag, once I grab my backpack out of my big pack, thinking I might have some interviews, and at least an opportunity to catch some pictures. But I don’t. Pastor Armond takes me into one house where I am introduced as “Sir Kenny”, and told to sit down. The inhabitants are told that tomorrow we will have a meeting but we are just passing through. Then Pastor Armond asks, “it is ok?” I reply tentatively, “umm… yes, it’s ok.” Apparently he meant, “is it ok to leave?”, because we do. We enter another house, I am told to sit, Pastor Armond tells them we are having a meeting tomorrow but that we are just passing through. Again, he asks me, “it is ok?” to which I reply in the affirmative, it’s ok, and we leave. This process gets repeated over and over. I discern that I will be doing a lot of interviews, and I will be doing them group style. Again, not sure who came to this decision or how, but I don’t mind trying some group interviews.

Eventually we stop in one house with a small store in the front selling food. Despite the fact that Pastor Armond does not ask them if it’s ok, we sit in their living room and hang out for 15 minutes, apparently this is break time. They ask what I like to eat, which is a dangerous question, but I saw some banana-cue (like barbequed banana) on the way in, so I say “banana-cue” all excited that I finally know enough to ask for something I like. But banana-cue doesn’t come. Instead it’s two whole bananas in some kind of milk/ice mixture. Which is good, but I’m at a loss as to why they asked me if they brought me something different. Eventually we leave and continue our rapid fire visits of FH families’ homes. “It is ok?” I’m not sure what would happen if something weren’t ok, but I nod my head and answer this question, asked oh-so-seriously, in the affirmative, yet again. All in all we visit about 25 families, and despite sitting in each of their homes, I think my butt touches a seat cushion for less than 20 total minutes.

We make it back to Pastor Buddy’s house. It’s about 15’x20’ with one big room serving as kitchen/dining/living room, a bathroom (squattee toilet), and two small bedrooms for a family of 4 (dad, mom, 14 yr old daughter, 2 yr old daughter). Of course, I am occupying one entire bedroom which had to have a special bed brought in for me, while everyone else crams in the other room. No mattress though, I’m on a few sheets of cardboard on top of plywood. All of this is perfectly fine with me, don’t get me wrong, and I’m only here for two nights. It all just kind of begs the question, why am I here? Who is making decisions? Why am I forcing this family, who is far from affluent, to house me for 2 nights, to cram into a tiny room together, and to build a bed for me? All indications seem to point to them wanting me to stay here, but really, I can’t imagine I’m worth the hassle. And I left a house with A/C and plenty of spare room to come here. All of this to say despite being asked about 100 times a day if “it is ok?” no one really seems to consult me on decisions. Not that I need to be making decisions, but it makes me wonder if anyone is making the decisions or if this is all just happening at random.