Nice to meet you, Clarin

It's been eight days now that I've been in Clarin, but somehow that doesn't feel possible.

Already, I have these shiny new things called "friends" that I'd kind of forgotten existed (my PC pals don't count - they long ago graduated to family), I've had more face time with the mayor here than I had in the many months prior, I've snorkeled the MPA (hello giant clam, aren't you supposed to be endangered?!), and been a dinner guest twice and a lunch guest once. Whew!

The change in pace is giving me whiplash. That is if whiplash was the best thing ever.

Before the transfer, I had some worries about adjusting to a new town all over again. The first few months at site are exhausting. You are endlessly attending courtesy calls and formal introductions, trying to remember names, reading old ordinances, and getting the same three questions over and over again, "How long you been in Philippines?", "Understand Bisayan?" and "You have boyfriend?" Okay that last one never goes away, but you get the idea.

I knew I wanted this, but wasn't exactly sure I was ready for all that to start again.

So here comes the good part. As it turns out, the whole experience of getting to know a new town is a whole heckuva lot easier when you are not simultaneously trying to get to know a new country. Back in Lila, I wasn't even sure which questions to ask in the beginning in order to familiarize myself with the current state of coastal resource management. Even when I did have an idea of what to ask, I had know way of knowing if my question would have betrayed an unforgivable lack of knowledge. So there was a lot of "fake it 'til you make it"-ing going on. Eventually, and organically, everything fell into place, but it took some time. Which brings me to my first meeting in Clarin, where I sat down with the Municipal Agriculture Officer and without much thought was able to ask exactly what I needed to know to get me up to speed. "Do you currently have a CRM plan? Are there MPAs here? When were they established? What is your management strategy for those areas? Is there an active Bantay Dagat (coast guard)? What is the state of your MFARMC? What are the primary challenges you face with regards to illegal fishing? Who are your community partners and what level of commitment have you agreed to" Yadda yadda yadda. It all just kind of works.

Another examle cropped up this afternoon when I was to be formally introduced to the Association of Barangay Captains. "Barangays" are essentially districts of the municipality, and the captains are the elected officials who run them. Together, the barangay captains form an important governing body. I remember this same meeting back in Lila. My supervisor stood up, unceremoniously read aloud my resume front and back, and I choked out a few rough lines of prepared introduction in Cebuano before going on to outline the work I hoped to do there. I asked if anyone had questions. The leader raised his hand, "Do you have a husband, or boyfriend?" Everyone laughed. I felt my jaw clench and I leaned back into the mic. "Are there any questions about my work or qualifications?" There were not.

Back to this afternoon - the same meeting but in Clarin. I walk into the room where all 24 barangay captains are seated and take a seat myself. The mayor opens the session, there is a prayer, and he moves on the the first order of business, introducing the new Peace Corps Volunteer. This he does all in English, then asks me to say a few words of my own. I pull myself up to a mic. "Maayong hapon sa tanan!" "Maayong hapon!" they reply, with many excited exclamations on my choice of language. And off I go, easily and in Visayan, introducing myself, my work, my intentions here. "And now most importantly," I say at last, also in Visayan, "I am single, but not available...and that's not negotiable!". And this time I'm the one getting the laughs. I ask if there are any questions, and there's a deep silence before someone admits that they are all intimidated. "Sorry about that!" I say cheerfully, and it's over. Done and done. Nothing prepared, not nervous at all, and now know how to get them to laugh as opposed to simply being laughed at myself. All this though no great ability of my own, but the simple passage of time. In all fairness it would be pretty sad if, a year in, I couldn't pull that off, but that's not the point. The contrasts are what are so striking.

Compound the ease of adjustment with an actual increase in work, and you have yourself one very happy camper. And good thing too, because it's been a while.

Oh Me! Oh My!

Pictures at last!

My new neighbor, Cathy, is off to Cebu for the weekend and dropped by my house this morning to ask if I'd like her to put all her Internet cordies and gadgeties out on the porch for me to use while she was away. Um, yes please!

So here I am, sitting on a bench, listening to chickens and cats scratch about in the yard, on an uncommonly cool day as I browse the list of Paul D. Coverdell Fellows Program graduate programs online. Not too shabby as far as Saturday mornings go.

I've been in Clarin five days now, but somehow, in the best way possible, it feels longer.

I think this whole transfer thingy might just be working.

The town is pretty and green, the people curious but friendly, and even though the population is twice that of Lila, its distinctly more rural feeling due to a prevalence of overgrown lanes and persistent manifestations of jungle life. I'm enjoying the amenities as well. The convenience store, bakery, and Internet cafe all mean that I'll have to travel to Tagbilaran less frequently now that I can actually do my grocery shopping and communicating in Clarin itself. Which means a lazy Saturday morning at home may become a tradition instead of an anomaly.

And now, for some pictures of my new house. It's actually quite a bit smaller and more rustic than my place in Lila, but those are both bonuses in their own way. I just love it.

My first decoration: My monthly call-in sheet, covered over in blue crayon through August 2011. When the right side is all filled up, I come home.

The wall between my dining room (space, area, walkway...? "Room" is a bit generous) and my bedroom.

My kitchen is a concrete room with a sink, to which I added a double burner electric stove. (The man outside is fixing the water.) The lack of refrigerator has altered my diet pretty dramatically, but it's an adventure. It's all a bit rough, but lends a quality of perpetual camping to my existence that I find appealing. No surprise there.

Necessary implements

My first breakfast - out on the porch with oatmeal, coffee, and Sir Ernest Shackleton

This little shelf was a doily-bedecked Mother Mary and Jesus shrine when I moved in, but Abby and I have reimagined it since into a more subtle presentation. The wooden figure is still Mary, but with the addition of a Found Image Press vintage American flag postcard, lucky bamboo, and my version of a doily - the circular design cut from a favorite tee shirt that met its death when I leaned into black hair dye in a salon in Taipei.

The dresser in my bedroom. I'll start sleeping in this room when my new bamboo bed is finished.

The desk in my bedroom. Moleskine central.

My bathroom! It's cleaner than it looks (that's a rust stain, not dirt), and smells like bleach and fresh paint. The extreme lack of water pressure makes that shower head just about useless, so I'll still be bucketing, but the really important thing here is the flushing toilet complete with toilet seat!!!! That's right, I'm fancy.

That's all for now!