Bile, Bile, Bile

Who ever thought having multiple children was a good idea?

It isn't.

You know what happens when you have multiple kids?  They get exponentially sick.

I have been cleaning up vomit and poop for the past three days double time.  And even worse, I have been sick right along with them.

Luckily yesterday the new Philippine president got sworn in and we got a holiday.  I can do anything when Seth is around.  Too bad today he will be working until far past the kids and my bedtime.

It is times like this I am really really grateful for my helper, Lani.  I can take care of the messes on me and the kids and she can take of the sheets, floors, and everything else that is soiled.  I will miss Lani when I am back in Virginia cleaning up sick kids.

Weightlessness

Seth has a birthday that is just a rotten day.  He never gets a proper birthday party, never.  And since Seth nor Jesus are going to change their day of birth recognition I have resolved to be super-wife at the lesser holidays that Seth celebrates.  Case in point: Father's Day.

Father's Day definitely plays second fiddle to the more all-important Mother's Day, but we can pretend.  Seth got one of these from me:  

My generosity was two fold here.  I really love Seth and knew he would LOVE this.  Another really good reason for this gift: weight.  We have eight, yup EIGHT bookshelves FULL of books.  And get this, we are acquiring more every week.  There are no such things as libraries in the Philippines so we have taken to calling the local bookstore "the library."  For the sake of all of our future moves, the Kindle is the answer.

So I am an awesome wife, get Seth an awesome gift, right?  Books are not enough.  Sleep is the only true gift that cannot be bought, or can it?  It can.

I booked a room at the Sofitel which is a really nice five star hotel in Manila (twenty minutes from our house, just in case).  It was the first time away from the kids overnight.  It was wonderful.  We slept a full eight hours, had a fabulous breakfast, and then had our yaya and driver bring the kids over to swim in the amazing pool and play at the park.  It is on Manila Bay and if you don't look closely at the water it is a fantastic view (if you do look closely at the water you may swear off seafood for the rest of your life).

Manila Twin

Today was a sad day.  I said good bye to my Manila twin, we lived parallel lives just two miles away.  Sara and I have been friends from pretty much my first week here.  She got here a few months before I did.  We both had blonde 14 month old babies that stuck out like sore thumbs.  She was that friend, the one you call in tears, the one you go shopping with, the one you force yourself to visit even during bad traffic, because you need to be recharged.

We both got pregnant while in the Philippines and had to endure the same smells, heat, and trial of being pregnant with a toddler in a place that is not known for ease of living.

Stella and Addie were thick as thieves, best friends (or occasionally enemies) at every encounter.   They both went to preschool together and they both became big sisters around the same time.

Bella and Tiger joined that party and our play dates of 4 became play dates of 6.

We love you guys!  You made this place home.  We are not saying good bye, instead see you later.

Leaving vs Left

I remember last year being the one that was left behind. It was sad to see people that you become close to move on and you have to hang around. The one thing I didn't understand last year, that I now get, is why people were so jaded and frustrated.

Now, comparatively speaking Manila is not Chad. Manila is not Congo. Manila is not something that has the word Guinea in it. Manila has so many silver linings among the dog poo covered cracks in the sidewalk (at least there are some sidewalks). And this is how I felt about the state of things a year ago (I think I must of also been influenced by the reality that I was free from in-utero baby carrying).

This year...I get it, I understand why in the final stretch you find that your fuse and tolerance is gone. We are in our third trimester of the Philippines and we are feeling it.

The problem is this, for two years I have had questions. Questions that I have patiently waited to understand culturally. Hope that things would someday make sense to me. And in a few ways I now understand (ie question: why do restrooms always have a wet floor. Answer: Funny you should ask, here in the Philippines people use Tabo, or organic bidet, which is a cup that they fill with water to clean their back end....ps love that they have a link on how to use a toilet in the Philippines). But the problem is, after two years, I still don't have answers to a lot of my questions. And it drives me crazy.

For example, last week we were out with our darling kids. They were enjoying the other place in this city with grass and all of the sudden a woman with a professional video camera starts filming Stella and Tiger being darling. I nod my head no and tell her to stop but she wouldn't. Then even-keel Seth with his Tagalog goes and speaks with the woman. He asks her what is the video going to be used for and why was she filming our children. The woman briskly walked away and avoided eye contact. BUT STILL. WHY? Why is it okay to film kids that are not yours for professional use.

I still have yet to have the question answered, why does it require three people to check me out of a grocery store line (with no speed improvement). I have yet to figure out why my driver still requires me to spell out every detail of a task if I want it completed. I still don't know why after six work requests we have water damage in my kitchen from the Typhoon a YEAR ago. These questions build up, and build up, and build up and then...an unlucky soul gets the brunt of it.

Sorry if that's you this week. I am trying.

White Like Me

I was watching TV the other day and saw the commercial below. I watched it because I know this local celebrity from church. I was fascinated and then horrified.

Placenta? Seriously people want to put placenta on their face. The part of the body that feeds an in-utero infant? I have had two placentas formed in me and for understandable reasons have asked to never see that part of me. Why someone would harvest it and put it on the face is beyond me. Apparently placenta has a age defying property. I guess that is why babies come out looking so young. But more distressing to me than having a bloody gut powder on your face was the promise that this cream will make you whiter.

The majority of Filipinos believe that the whiter you are, the better. This really bothers me. Everything from post-civil rights, post feminist era upbringing screams, "This is wrong." And it is. But around here it is not even on the radar as wrong. Commonly you hear people talk about how good or bad people are based on their skin color.

When you fill out a job application it asks what tone of skin you have. Really? Skin tone? I can only assume that is what happens when you have a homogenous culture, people start pointing out the tones.

The Philippines is slightly different than otherAsian cultures because it has a very long history of being occupied. The Spanish made their mark both culturally and in the population. Almost all names either first or last are Spanish in origin. Among the population itself thereis a variety in looks from more Asian to more European/Spanish looking. Many of the majorly wealthy families all have ties to Spain still and look Spanish.

The Philippines does not remember their time of Spanish occupation fondly, yet the cultural idea of white being good and dark being bad has transcended. And to me, it’s just not okay.

I was in a store a while back and was accosted by well-meaning but very very very annoying salespeople pointing out every product on their shelves (“shampoo ma’am, soap ma’am, mouthwash ma’am”). Finally in a moment of exasperation I gave them a mission. I asked them

for skin whitening cream. It shut them up immediately. After a long long thinking session one brave soul said, “But ma’am I think you do not need.” I jokingly asked her, “How do you think

I got so white?”

I am homesick. I am homesick for a place that may not have overcome racism but at least it is on the radar as a problem and there is awareness. That is the start.

Nasugbu

This past weekend was Philippine Independence Day. I think the story goes that it used to be July 4th but eventually the Philippines wanted to truly become independent and make its own date that it does not have to share with their former colonizer. And thus we had a holiday weekend. (The new date is the day they got their independence from Spain, it also coincides nicely as the weekend before school starts, sorta like Labor Day for us).

We were pretty ecstatic to have guests here. This is the first time since my mom came a year ago that we have had visitors. They got to see Manila for about a day, which is all you really need if you live in a dirty smoggy city, which they do in Beijing.

They went and saw Tagaytay, we ate good food, and then went with our ex-pat, but local, friend to her amazing condo. This place gave Disneyland a run for its money. My kids have never had so much fun. We all had a fantastic time. Thank you Rebekah!

To Don't: Overbook

I woke up feeling ambitious this morning. On my to do list for about a month has been to get Tiger's one year shots and Stella's yearly TB skin test. It also just so happened that I had an appointment with the nurse practitioner to deal with my phantom parasitic symptoms. So being the brilliant multi-tasker that I am I figured we could get the kids their shots and I would be able to get my physical and guts checked out.

Stella was the first to go. She lifted up her feet in protest and would not even walk into the clinic. I picked her up, Tiger crying the whole time (give me some small credit here, I brought our yaya to help me out with both kiddos).

Stella had her very short small prick and it was like holding a wild bronco down. Every month she gets bigger and stronger, I hope her common sense and will kicks in before she is unmanageable. I can't imagine doing that ten pounds bigger. After the shot she screamed, and screamed. Tiger heard her in the waiting room and started screaming as well.

Stella was so out of control I had Lani (our yaya) take her to the park. Tiger had his shots and also cried, he was much more manageable (it was really sad). I thought he would calm down enough for me to talk to the NP, he didn't.

So there I was with my shirt up as the nurse is trying to listen to my guts and my son is screaming. It was awful. Why? Why did I do that to myself? In the midst of Tiger's screams I heard the words: "possible giardia, appendicitis, worm, eggs, larvae." I hope it is none of those things because I don't like the idea of any of them. At the same time if it is I want to get better before I go back to the states because I don't know if they would even know to look for those types of things in DC. In Manila its like, "What TB, oh no big deal we all have the latent virus, what you don't" or "Yeah I just pulled a 24 inch worm out of my intestine, it was awesome" or "I just finished my deworming cleanse" in the same tone that you would say I just went to the gym.

I guess the moral of the story is, don't think you can do anything for yourself when your kids are getting poked and prodded, they need a mommy to give them hugs and kisses and all of her attention. Lesson learned.

Orders Ordered and Delivered

Today our thoroughly official final of the final travel orders came through. We have known we are going to Brussels next for close ten months now but today, the official official final orders came. Which means: we now have tickets to the U.S. Which means: I am not terrified to put our official official deposit down on our rental home in Arlington. Which means: we really are going to leave.

To celebrate we are leaving Manila for the weekend to go on our last beach trip. Lest anyone think the Philippines or the former Philippine Islands as they used to be called is not exactly a beach resort place, like Florida. To get to any decent beach from Manila it is a good two hours at the earliest. We will be traveling about three hours with friends to a beach resort that will be full of all sorts of adventures I am sure. Hooray.

My body has decided to celebrate its upcoming departure by pretending it has a third parasite. Seriously, you know you are in a developing country when you keep an entire cupboard of stool and urine sample cups in your home for future use. You also know you are in a developing country when you have no qualms blogging about because it is just that normal.

Also I have to point out a few things that make me laugh here:

The use of the word sexy, still. People think the word sexy is synonymous with pretty. This makes things very awkward when they say this to your children. It also is weird when people, whom you are not married to, call you sexy. I have tried to explain this to my maid and driver countless times but they can't stop. So I will adjust.

Apparently when referring to testicles people say eggs. I was really confused for about three minutes the other day.

My daughter claims she speaks Tagalog, she doesn't, but we let her think she does and it cracks us up.

PS Props to my hubby who got a 4/4 in Tagalog. Yay Seth! He really does speak Tagalog, or at least we let him think he does.

Million Dollar Facade, Nickel Pipes

We live in an amazing condo. Seriously, it is awesome. Never in our government career lives would this apartment be within our rent reach. We love it, it is perfect for our family, and apparently many other famous Filipino families because our neighbors are celebrities, politicians, and people who make it into the incestuous gossip magazines of Manila.

Being an expat I am not super star-struck or impressed but chuckle at the reaction of the condo staff at the VIPS. A few weeks ago some American kids were using the locker room/bathroom to use the toilet (which I appreciated because they were swimming and I don't like swimming in someone's personal latrine), they were talking at a normal level and a VIP was in the nearby indoor pool. They were told they were too noisy and they were going to disturb the person swimming. Gag. (The staff heard it from me that day, I think I used the words "equality," "sanitation," "rights," "unacceptable," and my personal favorite, "I don't care if X himself is in there, these kids can USE this locker room if they are behaved")

A few weeks ago while swimming with my children outside (I am usually the ONLY parent at the pool and always the ONLY adult in the l water), I chastised a (parentless) penthouse hailing six year old for climbing the sharp, slippery, and for-display-only fountain. His response was that "I can do whatever I want because my father owns the building" (which I don't think is really true). I then told him I didn't care who his father was because he was going to hurt himself and his father would be upset if he cut his skull open (which may or may not be true). The six year old then told me that he was "going to call security on me." I told him I would appreciate it he did call security so they could tell him not to climb on the fountain.

Ok, so maybe I have lost my focus here but my point is this: the building that we live in is filled with privileged and elite people. Part of the reason we live here is because it is very safe, which is a major concern for the embassy, the neighbors are just part of the package.

So you would assume that a place that houses local celebrities is posh and luxurious, which on the surface it is. However, once you move in you start to notice that everything isn't how it seems on the outside. For example, I have had to have my light switches replaced no less than four times. I think my parent's house still has the same light switches that they installed in 1954 when the home was built.

Today was another big upset, the pipes in my kitchen sink have rusted and now have holes all over. This place was built ten years ago and in my apartment and throughout the building all of the pipes are sprouting leaks from corrosion. Nice. Wouldn't want to invest in pipes that maybe last 15 years or heck even 20.

Since we are leaving in less than two months the embassy decided the best way to fix this is to put what looks like chewing gum over the hole (some kind of epoxy).

Last week we had the hooks on our blackout curtains replaced for the fourth time. Fourth! And guess what, in about three months they will break again. You might suspect that someone would get smart and use a NEW kind of hook, but why would you assume that? Nope every time they replace that broken hooks with the exact same kind of hook that is sure to break. Every Single Time.

And the Skies Open (again)

A view from my balcony as the thunder clouds were coming towards us.

This is my third rainy season in the Philippines. At first it was a big relief, this past dry season was desert dry. There was dust everywhere and it was ghastly hot, worse than the year before when I was preggers with Tiger. That is saying something when you think it is hotter un-pregnant. It has been nasty.

The day after Stella finished preschool we had our first big thunderstorm in six months, and it hasn't really stopped since.

I now have the task of figuring out indoor activities for the kiddies. I consider this preparation for our next post in Brussels. Which is supposed to be rainy pretty much all year long. I have convinced myself that the only way I am going to deal well with the forthcoming gloom is to embrace it. This next week I am going to the store to buy rain coats and boots for the kids so we can jump in puddles and embrace this monsoon season.

In other news, we have 54 days left. I am so incredibly excited. I have loved it here but there is something that happens to me once the U.S. summer starts. I get antsy, I get homesick, I get ready to get my barbeque on. And so it is now. I am so incredibly excited to go home.

Pink My Ride

The past 30 days of my life has been a whole lotta celebrating. Not that it isn't warranted but May is becoming the new December to me.

My baby girl turned three yesterday. I can't believe how fast she is growing up. She is a delight and Seth and I are so happy to be her parents.

She has been planning her third birthday party for an entire year. So there were a lot of expectations on this one. The theme of the party: pink. And she made repeated threats to her classmates that if they did not wear pink they would be denied entrance. Fortunately everyone obliged and we did not have a messy social situation on our hands. Three year old justice can be cruel.

We also made sure there were lots of accessories, just in case someone needed a bit more pink.