Cats And Dogs

Street Dog With Puppies Near My Apartment

I've been in the Philippines for over a year and a half and I have had my cat for almost a year already. Laguna (my cat) was a lucky street kitten I found in the gutter one morning and was able to raise as my own. Since becoming a pet owner I've learned so much as an owner and how pet ownership works in the Philippines, I’d like to share what I've learned.

In the US, there is basically two pet choices: cats and dogs. Here, it’s only dogs (for the most part). When I adopted Laguna as a kitten I received loads of raised eye-brows. Co-workers were confused as to why I would want a cat. With my sickly Laguna I had to constantly repeat “yeah, I’m going to keep her” to those who couldn't believe it. After a year of having a cat and talking about her, I think I know now why cats aren't such a hot pet commodity: Usefulness, dependence, and image.

Street Cat Outside My Office

The usefulness of a cat is fairly limited almost everywhere. Besides being a companion, cats mainly focus on napping and eating. Neither napping nor eating rank high to my friends at work in regards to pets. Maybe if they could attack intruders or alert owners of intruders we could talk, but cats don’t do those things. I will say though that my cat is a champion cockroach/lizard killer, not totally useless in my opinion.

Laguna On Duty

Cats are very independent with regards to needing human help. I have seen more street cats in the Philippines than anywhere back home, here they can flourish without help. Cats are tough in the wild and can live and procreate at a rate that keeps their population high. Plus they have natural resources of food here they can utilize with ease (trash and lots of rats).

Street Cat Outside My Apartment

So we have an animal that can’t really be used for anything and doesn't need our help, no one is clamoring for a pet like that. The interest in cats mostly (in my experience) runs from apathetic (cats=local wildlife=who cares) to negative (pest).

Street Cats Under Houses In The Bajau Settlement, Cabanatuan

While most people here don’t care about cats, some have stronger negative feelings. Part of the more antagonistic view is that of seeing cats as pests. It is true where I live that there is a large street cat population, and I can assume it’s a city wide issue as well. This is where I've seen several cases of what could be considered some of the worst animal treatment I've seen; be warned, the forthcoming description is fairly disturbing.

I've personally seen 3 different cases, in different areas of my city, of killings of cats/kittens. The method I've seen has been the same but ultimately probably doesn't represent the typical method. The cats are put into plastic shopping bags, dropped in roads, and run over by passing vehicles. I spoke to my local friend and he told me it’s very common for people to put kittens in trash bags and to throw the bag into an abandoned lot.

This isn't to say that everyone hates cats. My good friend from my office has TWO cats and is one of a minority who tolerates cats. There are those who like imported cats as well. So cats aren't totally out of luck.

A Real Old Street Dog From Dupax Del Norte

Dogs on the other hand are another matter. We have local street dogs (Aspin, formally Askal) and the more favored purebreds.

Guard Dog with 3 ft. Chain, named Barack

Aspins are the local indigenous dogs here in the Philippines. The name is a combination of the Tagalog word “Aso” for dog and the word Pinoy denoting their origin (Philippines). These dogs are of low to moderate popularity. They are almost everywhere here and are a hearty breed. The typical use of an Aspin is as guard dog.

Beach Aspin In Siquijor

Guard dogs can be a sad sight. Typically guard dogs are kept on a short leash near the doors of a home. They are tied up at all times and are not played with, they act as a living doorbell. At worst the leash can be unreasonably short or the dog made to suffer in direct sunlight for portions of the day without shade. Some guard dogs are free of a chain and live a life closer to a pet dog. In my experience, I've seen more Aspin guard dogs on short leashes in squalid corners barking incessantly than any other way.

Street Aspin Looking For Food

Street Aspin are usually friendly to coy but almost never dangerous. These dogs will walk populated areas that have/serve food and will eat trash. At night, street Aspin will roam, procreating and eating where they can. Most people are not antagonistic towards street Aspin.

Guard Dog On The Beach In Subic Bay

Purebred dogs are the most favored of dogs in the Philippines (at least in my experience/city). These dogs are cuddled, cleaned, cared for, played with, and generally treated like pets in America. Some suffer the unfortunate fate of playing guard dog though.

Friendly Street Aspin That Followed Us During A Hike In Sagada

I’ll be making an addition to my pet family this coming week when I adopt my own Aspin. She’s the puppy of a locally owned guard dog Aspin named Tiger. Tiger grew up tired to a chair outside the front door of her owner’s apartment. She eventually was allowed to roam free of a chain, a fortunate allowance. She had three puppies two months ago and when I asked to see the puppies I was offered the pick of the litter. I already knew I wanted one that looked exactly like Tiger and it just so happened to be exactly one meeting my criteria.

Tiger Tied Up As A Puppy, Outside My Apartment

The interesting thing about Tiger’s birthing and puppy raising was that she was suddenly swept away to a much more secure and safe area of the apartment compound, like a true pet. She was suddenly afforded all sorts living upgrades. I think this effort was to keep the puppies safe, even if they are Aspin.

Gypsy, An Aspin Adopted By My PCV Friend

If you’re curious if I’ll be bringing my new dog and Laguna home, I can say for certainty that I will.

Man In Manila Dancing With His Dog

Dearest Austin, What Are You Doing?

It’s been a long time since my last blog post and things have changed. Here’s what’s up in a digestible snapshot, via list:

1.      EDUK has taken a serious backburner position. This has more to do with the nature of the beast; it’s difficult to fast-track a major social effort with an American at the helm. The program isn’t dead, but will be brought to life in a slow fashion, incrementally and likely not before I leave.

2.      The freezing of EDUK put me out of a program development job, so my main work has now been completely shifted from the office and into the field. I am now a teacher. I teach Street Children English in the best way I can, every morning until noon.

Teaching Street Children sounds complicated enough if you think of how much training real teachers get in their years of schooling. If I were to dwell on how un-certified I am at being a teacher, I would be reduced to puddle of tears. Ergo, I set my goals at a reasonable level: show up and try.

Class starts around 9am every day. The class is made up of two main groups: Street Children and Bajau Children. Street Children are defined in a myriad of ways but can be boiled down to: living on the street, working on the street instead of going to school, and can’t afford school. Bajau Children are the children of displaced Sea Gypsies referred to as Bajau. We have a settlement in Cabanatuan near the Street Children classroom and since the Bajau are incredibly poor, some of their children attend our classes.

The Children come in many different ages. We have a ultra-young group of children who are 5-7 and then the ages go up from there, all the way to one 18 year old. Median age is around 12. Usually there are 20 Children in attendance on any single day.

There are now three teachers, including me. My apologies to actual-fully-trained teachers for co-opting your title but please allow it in this instance for simplicities sake. The two other teachers are Susan and Odet and were formally volunteers but are now full-time employees. If you’re curious, they make 200 pesos a day and typically work over eight hours a day.

The classroom is simple and could be referred to as rustic in appearance. It’s in a donated room of the bus terminal on the edge of the city. The room is on the second floor. There’s no proper electricity but thanks to the police station downstairs (and a long extension cord) we have some electricity. There is no running water or bathroom. Most of the bus station is abandoned except for small stores, but the station is still used for transportation purposes.

Lessons last only until around 11am when snacks (merienda) are served before the Children leave at noon. The lessons us teachers provide are mainly Basic English and math lessons. The levels of the children range widely, some are still grasping the totality of the alphabet.

As a new teacher, I have modest goals. Currently I want to really nail the alphabet down. With the alphabet fully understood and the ability to write it as well, I think we can see some serious forward movement.

I’m still on the lookout for help from other PCVs here in the Philippines, and especially from the teachers in my batch. I’m hoping with their help I can at least push the Street Child Education in Cabanatuan City in the right direction before I leave in 6-7 months.

Hug/Kiss/Shake hands with a teacher. Education doesn't just happen magically. Although, I’m trying.

EduK Update and My Bathroom Woes

First off, the eduK project is still moving forward and is closer now to completion than before. Being the linchpin in a project is difficult and especially so as a one-person team. There are better and more efficient ways of doing business and finishing tasks and my experience and ability to only absorb so much best-practices hamstrings my efforts to do the project right.

Currently the video is in production. I think cinematography gets written off as a non-art because it seems so easy: point the camera at what you want and film. I can say as an outsider of the art, and it is an art, that things only look easy thanks to all the well produced movies and television programs we have access to all the time. When you actually lay hands on a camera and start fiddling around you quickly find yourself looking a replay of an unwatchable mess. At least, that's my experience with filming and editing.

Thankfully my cousin, Brenden, has stepped up to the task and is going to help me out from overseas. All I had to do was film and record the parts and get the pieces to him. The parts are all there and he's working his magic as we speak. You'll be hearing more about this soon!

Nothing Wrong Here. Shiny Floor, Hmm... What's In The Bathroom?

On an different and interesting note, I've been battling periodic, but reliable, flooding in my apartment. If you don't care for stories about human refuse or the triumph of the human spirit, give the rest of this post a skip. This is not your garden variety flooding either, this is sewage flooding. Here's the deal: Every now and again the pipes would go on the fritz. This meant my toilet would stop flushing in any meaningful way and the floor-grate would back up water from somewhere else. This back up water was likely a combination of my waste and neighbors, it certainly wasn't all me. I don't know what caused this fritzy issue but a call to the landlady would bring some friendly guys over who would fix the issue for me, at least for a little while.

Oh... Oh no.

Before I go on, let me tell you what “fixing” means. The lowest tier of “fixing” in my bathroom saga is basically plunging the toilet. The plunging was done by one guy who didn't have a plunger, so he would make do with what god gave him. I watched this guy “plunge” my toilet with his barefoot, then send his hand in for good measure. Eventually in these plunging sessions the guy would avail of some neighbors plunger, never early enough though, and would stand in my bathroom plunging the floor-grate and so on. He wore no shoes, sandals, gloves, or really any protective gear for that matter.

After awhile, the backing up issue seemed to no longer be an issue. Then I had new neighbors move in. I can't say with any certainty that they are the cause of all my ills but their arrival is correlated with the worst of my flooding issues. As we all know correlation is not causation and therefore, it's just as likely that my flooding caused my neighbors to move in, or that they're unrelated. All perfectly reasonable ideas.

Anyway, the flooding before was always short lived, small, and always confined to the bathroom. The flooding couldn't get out of the bathroom thanks to the small amount of back-up and that my bathroom floor is bout 2 ½ inches deep, under the height of my kitchen. This new breed of flooding took flooding to new levels when it filled the whole of the bathroom to the brim with sewage. I had a visit from Kaiti when the flooding hit it's worst level and she had to endure the following with me: Poopocolypse 2012.

The flooding reached it's new found level one evening and I was sure it would subside before long. Come the next morning I found my new roommate, floody-buddy, was still hanging out just as high as it was before, if not higher. Moments after walking down my stairs and surveying the mess, it came over the edge, straight into my kitchen and beyond. A trickle that only increased in intensity. I had a more apathetic feeling towards the issue, I figured it would stop soon and Kaiti and I could leave it befor awhile since it was out of our hands. Kaiti took a more reasonable and ultimately intelligent stance of standing, wading, and fighting the flood. After flip-flopping between running or staying, I donned my boots and stepped up.

A Slippery Step For Mankind

Stepping up meant wading right into the fray of sewage and straight into the pool in my bathroom. With the door finally open (I closed it to keep the larger ”bits” from flowing in) I could see it was only flowing in more. If you've ever placed a garden hose underwater while it was turned on and aimed the flow of water in the hose at the surface, causing a hill of moving water to appear, you can imagine what I saw in my bathroom, sewage flowing in with some force.

Again with some helpful counsel from Kaiti I decided bailing the bathroom out was our best choice of action. I started filling two buckets, one after the other, and handing each one when full to kaiti to empty on the street. Our initial efforts seems to only make room for more sewage and didn't seem to be of any help. After several buckets I decided to plug the floor grate with something and figured a plastic bag full of other plastic bags would do the trick. With the flow significantly reduced, our bailing efforts started to really show some results.

After filling and emptying more than twenty 5-gallon buckets and twenty 3ish-gallon buckets, we had reduced the problem to only a giant mess instead of a nightmare. In this whole event my landlady saw the flooding and was making preparations for fixes in the near future. She also walked barefoot through the sewage water for some reason, maybe she thought I was foolin'. Kaiti took charge of sweeping the sewage from my apartment-proper into the bathroom before we left to get replacement cleaning materials.

Welcome Home, Ace

You might think that professionals were promptly called in by my landlady and this horrible situation was cleared up in a jif. Think again! The landlady called in the plunger boys again and they worked thier magic but this time it didn't stick long enough for them to leave saying “it's alright!” The problem was standing its ground and was more than the plunger-man could handle.

At this point I had to leave site and wasn't going to be home for anymore work to be done. They needed me there in the house since I'm the only one with a key, so the flooding returned while I was gone over the weekend, a week after the first bad flood. Coming home to sewage is a bummer. My cat Laguna was thankfully watched by my local American friend Kathryn while I was gone. I went back to bailing my bathroom out.

After a couple more days of this bad flooding, I felt that my landlady wasn't appreciating how lame other peoples (and my own) poop all over my apartment was. The best way I could illustrate how bad it was, other than having her move in, was dump the sewage outside my front door. You might think that I'm just going to have to tread through that water too and I'm not really helping, but I had sewage in my kitchen, so things could get no more disgusting. After countless trips back and forth from my bathroom to my door, dumping the contents far and wide, I had emptied my bathroom as much as I could. Throughout this work detail I could see neighbors staring at me and eventually my landlady asked me why I was doing it, and a curt explanation that the flooding was back like before. She said she would call in another crew to replace the plumbing, and said to stop dumping.

Finally, several days later, the crew that was going to replace the plumbing showed up and they set to work tearing my bathroom apart. They dug down and tore the big pipe out that connected to the toilet and floor-grate and replaced it with almost a carbon copy but one with an extra reservoir-looking attachment. They then covered that over and brought the floor up from it's depth, to just below the plane of my kitchen floor. Having the level higher looks nicer but it costs me in that if/when it floods again, my bathroom wont be able to hold as much water/sewage as before. Everything seemed to be working when they finished.

The flooding came back. More sweeping sewage into my bathroom. The landlady called in another new crew and said she dropped 12k pesos to have the canal the sewage ran into cleaned out. The canal was certainly cleaned out and I bet everyone else is over the moon about how well their bathrooms work now, but mine stayed just as backed up as before. This time though, flooding only happens thanks to me alone (I think). Nothing is being forced into my bathroom, but barely anything is getting through the pipes. I theorized that the canal-cleaners forced something/s into my pipe inadvertently, or it was already there and they couldn't get to it. Anyway, still an nonfunctional bathroom.

Still Didn't Fix It.

Why didn't I just leave immediately? I paid first and last months rent. Unless the landlady can help resolve the issue, I'll be moving on to less soiled pastures. As of today, there is a new crew probably tearing the ground out in front of my front door, where the pipe from my bathroom leads. This is a last ditch effort. I couldn't imagine what else could fix this problem. If it's not fixed I'll move along.

For the readers delight, imagine the following:

I mean it, really imagine this paragraph, close your eyes and get that imagination working.

It's hot and sunny outside and you don't have air-conditioning to look forward to at home. You ride a bicycle home and work up a light sweat that only gets worse when you stop riding because you don't have wind in your face. You go into your apartment and find raw sewage in your apartment, everywhere on the floor. You're hot and the air is ripe. Turn on a fan and you only get concentrated sewage air in your face but you may as well since you live here and will be cleaning soon enough. It's the fourth week you've dealt with this.

Now think about what you actually come home to. I bet you feel great

When I wrote most of this, I was hoping to have this issue put to rest. Sadly, after a few days of better draining and no backing up, my house flooded again. This was after a handy-man was poking around. I don't know if his efforts contributed but he certainly didn't do anything to help in a significant manner. He came into my apartment in the early morning and splashed some water around, confirmed the toilet flushes never, and the drain has drain-problems. The drain did drain though, so all seemed well. After awhile he left, assuming his work done. While I was busily breaking apart a fortress built by Bad Piggies with some upset avian, I suddenly recognized an old smell. I turned around to find, to my over-used dismay, sewage creeping across my floor.

I popped outside to get the handy-man and told him about the problem. He said “it's okay” at first, but after a few gestures and me not leaving, he tagged along to see what I was whining about. After a surprised exclamation at seeing the sewage there he started in immediately to clear it away. His method lacked what I would call “reasonable finesse”, as far as the idea of cleaning is concerned. He grabbed a rough hand broom and directed his strokes toward the back door. The handy-man played hard and fast with his sweeping and was decorating my walls as much as he was moving toward the exit. He was also shuffling things of mine, things caught in the sewage flood, around in the sewage, rather than moving them from the actual pool. I watched him topple my full-trash can onto its top, spilling the contents, in one depressingly hilarious stroke of his broom. He set it back up, in the pool of sewage, and carried on. At this point I should consider fumigating my apartment with Purell since I cannot guess what all has been splashed with feces at this point.

I should just cut bait and start full blown bonfires in my living room and consider opening a vomitorium in my bedroom. What do I have to lose? Sewage is certainly way up there in the “do not want” category of what could be in your home, anything else is either an improvement or simply a lateral move.

I do admit, this bad situation is funny. My laugh-it-off resolve is taking a battering, but I'm not broken yet. Send me your plumbing prayers.

Siquijor Vacation (Old Story)

A while back, I took my first trip deep into the Visayan Islands here in the Philippines. I took the trip with Kaiti and boy did we get some serious vacationing in. We visited three different islands: Bohol, Siquijor, and Negros.

We left from Manila by plane for Tagbilaran, Bohol first. We only were going to be there for one day so we tried to get in as much sightseeing as we could. We were able to travel inland for an hour and a half to catch sight of one of the Philippines bigger bragging points, the Chocolate Hills. The hills are half interesting and half unremarkable. Kaiti and I were both unsure why the Philippines hoists the hills so high as a sight-to-see, there's are other interesting things around that aren't so far away. After the hills we traveled back by open-air bus just in time to get dinner at the Bohol Bee Farm.

Sweating and Eating Fish Chips

The bee farm is one of the more impressive places I've eaten at here in the Philippines. The food is all grown on the on-site farm and the food was all delightful, although a premium was paid. Kaiti and I were on the losing end of a bad trike driver who was actively trying to dance away with more than his fair share for the trip there and back. The price started at PHP400 (for comparison, one plane ticket to Bohol was PHP1000), I knew this price was wildly inflated but we needed the driver to take us back to the city after dinner, the price dropped to 300 after a short haggle session. During the dinner we learned the typical trike fare to the restaurant is around 25PHP, after learning this I was determined to make renegotiate the price. We walked away from the trike driver only paying PHP200, neither party involved was happy.

Roosters In Bags On The Boat, They're Alive

We left the next morning for Siquijor but had to take a detour through Dumaguete first. We went by boat and enjoyed a 2 hour boat trip, had some lunch, and loaded onto our next boat. We made it to Siquijor by around 2pm, after leaving Bohol at 8:30am.

Waiting For Our Boat To Siquijor

Our Sea Chariot, Leak Included

The Island of Siquijor is beautiful. Just stepping off the boat it was striking how blue the water is here. All the beaches surrounding the island are white so the shallow water truly pops, especially so at the port.

We were greeted by our PCV friend Ginna who lives on Siquijor. She was able to help us get a decent price for the tricycle going to our home-stay on the other side of the island. We were dropped off at Lorna's At The End Of The World and settled into our spartan room overlooking azure water. Lorna's is a house that butts up directly to the water, and for only PHP400 a night we were sold before we even got to the island, reserving a room in advance. The building was a two story house-repurposed-home-stay, The second story looked rickety but the rooms were nice and comfortable. There was even a deck on top of the building itself but the homemade steps leading to the top creaked too much and had more "give" than I liked, we stayed away.

Lorna's was a place of curiosities. It had the beautiful scenery in spades but the cast and crew of the places was what really made it unique. First, there was Lorna and her husband Herb. Lorna was a very pretty 30-something Filipina and Herb a older (60ish) Englishman with advanced degrees in Psychology, including a PHD from UCSF. Both were very friendly, Herb was mainly interested in building the new addition next to the current house, Lorna helped out and kept an eye on the house in general. Lorna had at least one daughter in the house and Herb had one as well that was older, in her twenties. There was also Herb's cousin who had some back-related injury that caused him to walk around hunched over at the waist, leaning forward to a steep degree. There was also the old woman (perhaps Lorna's mother) who couldn't speak words but could make vocal sounds, and possibly not hear, but did seem aware enough to help us out a few times in our stay. The mother would often talk to us but it was difficult to understand her, we relied on her hand gestures mainly to understand. Finally there were several animals at Lorna's. There was the goofy big dog that would try to bowl us over every time one of us got near enough. There was also a pack of cats, mainly kittens, that would get everywhere and one of them had a bad case of diarrhea, pooping loudly and without warning, spraying whatever was behind it. All these fun people and animals were what greeted us at Lorna's.

Our time spent on the island included the following in this order:

Resting

Walking along the beautiful white-sanded beach

Eating a whole chicken with our hands

Dining at a great local restaurant (JJ's burger was the best I had at this point in my stay in the Philippines)

Briefly seeing a big waterfall

Resting

Caving

Taking a rickety boat from Lorna's out for a little paddling and promptly sinking

Pushing the boat back in-land

Stepping on sea-urchins

Snorkeling

Resting

Dining at an extra-fancy resort with Ginna

Resting

Moved Around A Lot

Strange Sand Creations

Physical Humor, Quick Thinking

The island of Siquijor is beautiful. The whole place is so small and packs so much to see in such a small area. There is fresh fish caught everyday and brought to the shore and sold along the roadside. I feel like I made a major mistake by not buying any of the fish there. I assumed it was expensive but in hindsight realize, it would have almost been free food and the experience of eating such fine fish that fresh would be worth the price. There is even REAL milk on Siquijor. Way over in a distant Barangay Kaiti and I found the milk producer and were able to buy a liter of frozen milk to enjoy at Lorna's. The milk was exquisite after already going a year without real milk. UHP milk does not stack up to fresh milk.

I should talk about the caving experience since it was something else. Kaiti and I had to travel far up into the island to get to a tiny village that mainly deals in one thing: the Cantabon Cave tour. The people were typically friendly and they had quite the cave to brag about. This caving experience was intense. I'm used to caving in tight and dry areas, but this one went the wet route. Almost immediately, we were walking in an underground river after we got into the cave. The tour guides we had seemed to have an important meeting, and found we could keep up, so they moved the tour along as fast as they really could. It was about thirty minutes of quick paced walking, wading, ducking, hitting my head, ducking some more, and capering over slippery-edged gaps. We had to make a special effort to get over a pool of water that looked awfully deep. Being to difficult to explain via text, just rest assured it was a difficult task to cross over the top of this pool once, and then again from the other direction. Thirty minutes of water-hiking-caving brought us to the end where we enjoyed the sight of rock formations for about 2 seconds before our guides started us back to the opening. So far, this caving experience ranks as my favorite in the ~3 I've enjoyed.

The day we left Siquijor we were able to meet another PCV that lives on the island, Dan, and enjoyed some local pizza and NBA playoffs while waiting for our ferry to arrive. We finally loaded up onto our ship and set course back to Dumaguete on Negros.

We only had a single day in Dumaguete but thankfully we got there early enough to enjoy our time there. Going along with the theme of great places in the Visayas, Dumaguete was a big hit in my opinion. It has great restaurants, cafes with good coffee, sidewalks(!), and a large enough population of foreigners that Kaiti and I hardly noticed any “Hey, Joe!” or stares aimed at us. We stayed at the PCV-famous Harold's Mansion, a grand and uniquely well run dorm/hotel. Our time spent in Dumaguete was short but jam-packed, I would love to go back and enjoy it some more.

The Escalade Of Trikes

If you ever get the chance to visit the Philippines, make some time for Bohol, Siquijor, or Dumaguete, if not all three if you can. Delightful people in beautiful places. They also have the best tricycles.