Hey Joe!

June 18, 2012

Epistle from the Philippines #8 - "Hey, Joe!"

Salutations once again!

I didn't get to describe my new companion to you last week, so I'll do that. Sister Rondina is 26 years old. Her birthday is next month. She is from the Tacloban mission area in the Philippines, and she is cute. And clean. She flosses after every meal. When I thought that I looked funny next to Sister Rosina, I sure was proven wrong when I inherited a Sister Rondina. Sister Rosina was about... 5'2" or 5'3." Short, but not insanely so. Yesterday I asked Sister Rondina how tall she was. She didn't want to admit it at first. "Are you 5 feet?" I asked. "Four foot nine" she answered. I'm nearly a foot taller than her. Yesterday we looked into the mirror together, and boy do we look funny. Let me rephrase. Boy, do I look funny. I'm a freakin' giantess. She's been on her mission for 11 months. She's over half-way done.

This week we're doing another volume of the Observations of the Philippines series.

Here is a list of the things about me that people make comments about/envy/like/etc.
- My hair (Stroked frequently)
- My puti skin (puti means white)
- My arm hair (I've been stroked/picked at many times)
- My mosquito bites (My legs look like I have the plague)
- My singing voice (I'm the only one around who has actually had vocal training, so they sort of laugh at me. Also, they think I'm in the Mormon Tabernacle Choir)
- My mole on my forehead
- My pimples
- My Left-handedness

Okay, this one merits a full story. Weeks ago, we were at a member's home eating dinner on the floor. When eating on the floor, you're not expected to use utensils, you can just use your hands. Well, I, being left-handed was eating my rice and fish with my left hand. The woman sees me and starts LAUGHING at me, like a nervous laugh. Everyone starts looking at me. I KNOW why she's laughing. I know the social faux pas I'm making. In this culture you use the left hand to wipe your bottom after you use the toilet. Eating or doing anything with your left hand is considered gross. The woman makes the comment "Sister King REALLY likes the fish!" This is what she really meant: "Sister King REALLY likes the fish [if she's eating it with her poop hand!] I get all self conscious, and switch hands despite Sister Rosina's and my pleas to everyone that I'm left-handed.

As I didn't makes clear before, there IS toilet paper here. It's just... not as important. Most people don't keep it in the bathroom regularly. Public restrooms (unless they're nice establishments) either have none, or have a single dispenser of toilet paper outside all of the stalls where you can take as much as you need before you go into the stall. In some places you have to pay extra for your toilet paper. I buy toilet paper at the grocery store. Not in bulk, but one roll at a time.

That's how people do a lot of things here. Since people are so poor, they can't buy a whole lot all at once. This includes cell phones. Here, everyone has a cell phone, but you pay as you go, basically. There are little stores/stands all around town where you can "load" more texts and more talking minutes. People rarely talk on the phone. Everything is done through texts, including our communication with the District Leader. We just text him the weekly report of our efforts.

For those of you who don't know the hierarchy of missionaries, here it is. Think of a mission as a country. The Mission President is in charge, like a president. In each mission there are zones. Think of those as states. The Zone Leaders are governors. Each Zone has districts, think of those as counties. The District Leader is like a county executive, and reports to the ZLs. Each District has areas, think of those as cities. The lowly missionary (like me) works in an area. The Philippines Bacolod Mission has 11 zones. Nine of the zones are Ilonggo speaking, two are Cebuano. Sister Rondina just came from spending 6 months in a Cebuano speaking area, so she's been having fun relearning Ilonggo.

Speaking of which, I wasn't called on my mission to speak Tagalog. I wasn't even called to speak Illongo. Or English. Or Spanish. It's kind of all of the above. Here's how I understand it. Ilonggo is the language of the people. That's what they talk to each other. In school, they learn Tagalog and English. Ilonggo has a lot of Spanish in it. Anyway, when people talk, it's what I like to call Taglonggolish. When people talk, Ilonggo and Tagalog aren't considered different languages, they're just synonyms of each other, used interchangeably, since everyone speaks both. People also try to speak English to me. I get wished "Good morning" at night all the time. To the joy of my teachers at the MTC, they call me Joe also. They think all white people are named Joe.

Love,
Sister Kelli King