Living Life in Peace

I explained to Jay and King James (how he introduced himself) that I am a kambal (twin) too!

I have a friend from India who for years would ask me to visit her home country. I told her I could not go because I imagined I would not stop crying when I landed. When she found out I was going to the Philippines, she exclaimed, "And you're going to Manila??" So here I am. During the month of December, I enjoyed my good life - touring, shopping, dining with my cousin and his family, reading, and taking lots of pictures. Early January, I started volunteering for a ministry organization in the San Juan area. A different life. Various opportunities were available such as teaching, assisting in a women's clinic, and spending time at an orphanage. I settled on feeding the poor and eventually expanded to cooking the lugaw for the feedings. Lugaw is a rice-based protein porridge mix that actually comes from Minneapolis. It wouldn't be a Filipino dish without mounds of garlic. For flavor, the cook would add fried garlic, sautéed onions, fresh ginger, and any leftover dinner or scrambled eggs from breakfast. Twice a day, five days a week, a group of volunteers go to impoverished areas for "feedings". Songs are sung, prayers are said, then the children eagerly line up behind the van with their chipped mug, worn bowl, or stained plastic container in hand. For the most part, only really young children will line up. They are hungry, excitable, and anxious to speak English, asking our names and where we are from. They are so kind to us and kind to one another. There is no pushing and shoving, and the slightly older kids will guide the toddlers by the shoulders and allow them to squeeze in front. At one location, some of the children would step up to the van, smile broadly, and politely say, "One scoop please." We would give them as much as their containers could hold. One of the saddest parts of the feeding is when a child comes up to the van after the lugaw is all gone. But I have seen on more than one occasion, a child who had a large bowl pour some of their lugaw into the latecomer's cup. There is never any complaining, any whining, any crying. And though the children have mismatched torn clothing, rotten teeth, and no electronics, they seem happy. Yes, happy to see us and the lugaw, but there's something else underlying. Are they happy because they don't know any other life than the dusty one they have? Wherever they look they see everyone else's life around them is the same. It is all they know. Is their key to happiness not having a comparison, or having no want other than that of basic needs?

Young girl wearing a top with lyrics to one of my favorite songs