There have been times when I have wanted to quit, there have been times when I never wanted to leave. I am proud of the work I have done here. No matter the living conditions, no matter the social interactions and friendships, I am here to do work after all, they say to serve both my country and the Philippines. I am quite satisfied with that work and already feel like a success. Although development work in general, and Peace Corps specifically, ask us to quantify our success in reports, charts, documentation and meeting goals, it is the qualitative aspects of my work that really keep me focused and motivated. Its the support the students are now showing each other when one of them struggles through an English-only presentation, it's the books in the library, it's the fully functional computer lab.
Outside of my work, I have lived in Filipino households for 365 days now. That's 365 days of conversations, both in English and Visaya, 365 days of growing closer and closer to my family here, 365 days of rice, and seemingly 365 days of rain, 365 days of reflection, both quiet and contemplative and loud and emotive.
Of course I miss my friends and family back home, but I am a changed person. The Philippines has altered me in ways I can only imagine; the litmus test will be when my dad comes to visit in December. I have made some life-long friendships with other volunteers, seen some of them having left service for a myriad of reasons, some of them rooted at their sites, reluctant to leave for any reason.
I have made some friendships with Filipinos that have taught me a lot about basic human decency, the essence of commonality and what unites us all on the human level: the need to be understood and accepted.
I have had typhoid, ringworm, panuhot or my rib cage seized by my chest muscles, sinus infections and the occasional hangover.
I have never felt more complete as a person.
To all my PCV's in 267, happy anniversary. To all those who ET'd, you're here in spirit and I celebrate knowing you for 365 days of friendship in some extreme situations. To my friends and family back home, I could never do this without your constant support and proverbial shoulders on which to cry.
Thank you, Mr. Stanhill. Cabalian owes you a lot. You touched its heart, something which gets amiss with novelty. And that utang kabubut-on will be etched not on air but on our igneous rocks. It was a pleasure re-learning politeness and sensitivity from you.
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