Us and Them

Us and Them

18^th April 2007

Let's get together for a few quiets and talk about everything and nothing.

Rowen Knight – Philippines Volunteer

Handsome. Tall. Crazy. Smart. Correct. Hat. Hand. I can speak a little Ilongo.

Or, in Ilongo.

Gwapo. Mataas. Buang. Maalam. Chakto. Kalo. Kamut. Mahambal ako gamay gamay lang Ilongo.

I can induce giggles in Hello-My-Name-Is-Jane-Welcome-To-Chow-King by placing my order In Ilongo. Ditto for buying "One, large, white shirt" as the SM Department store. I can even manage to explain my complicated travel plans in Ilongo to anybody who was interested. I have learnt to speak Ilongo by talking to the locals on the odd formal lesson from my idaha (god child), Mae-mae.

Impressive? Maybe?

Useful in day-to-day conversations? Nope. Next to useless in fact.

The simultaneous machinegun staccato gossip sessions of Pulao teachers are but meaningless clatter to my ears. I have no idea what they are saying.

Drowning in Familiar Waters
If you want to be humbled, visit a Filipino house. They might not have much, but they'll treat you like a Prince. They'll cook you wonderful meals and will wait for you to finish eating before they themselves start. They'll give you your own room, complete with bless-ed electric fan and cram all the usual occupants into a single room. They'll even include you in family events and give you honorific title like Tito (uncle).

But – and this is a big Pavaroti sized butt – it makes you feel like an outsider. If you couple this with the aforementioned language barrier, then you start to feel as if there is an us and them.

Apart from the odd sixty-something year-old white guy with a twenty-something year-old Filipina on his arm, I'm the only white guy for miles around, so it is more like a "Them and I", than an "Us and them".

It's nobody fault. Everyone is trying their best. It just is.

Faltering, stuttering conversations, combined with being single out - with the best of intentions – adds up to a somewhat lonely experience.

I have often felt like an awkward out-of-place foreigner during my current visit. Conversations rattle around me and I end up quiet and sitting by myself. I sometimes chirp in with joke phrases like: "Sila! Wala laway. Si Malcolm Gwapo Gid!". (Incorrect! Not ugly. Malcolm is very handsome). You'd be hard pressed to call this conversation.

This is quite different to my first Filipino experience. It is like I am drowning in familiar waters. The difference is – of course – the presence of other volunteers^* with whom I can talk about everything and nothing. The "Us and Them" mentality still prevails. Take a bunch of volunteers and a bunch of locals, plunk them down in a room, and I guarantee you that will tend to form into their respective groups.

There are always exceptions to this "Us and Them" idea. People like Eden, Pom and Ray from the Philippines and the ever lovable Rose from Uganda are people with whom I could talk to for hours. Riza also to a lesser extent.

Those folks are all fluent in English. So when I say "Us and Them", it is not "New Zealander and African", or "European and Filipino" (thank goodness) but "Fluent Speaker of Language A and Fluent Speaker of Language B".

Us
Sometimes we fall into groups of "Us and Them". We seek the familiar. But we are all people. It is a lesson I keep learning and relearning on my travels.

I'm sure a New Zealander is just as capable of despicable acts like this guy and this guy, just as they are capable of great acts of kindness like this lady and this lady. Ditto for Africans, Filipinos, the Dutch…

This is all obvious when you adopt a Darwinian view of Evolution. Less so when you adopt a religious view.

^* Meeting volunteers has always rated highly on my top 10 lists. See here, here and here.

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