"Fake it 'til you Make it"

As a teacher, or as someone who hopes to be a teacher, I've found that some of my favorite tools in the classroom are catchy adages to try keep my students processing. In the past, I usually teach kids younger than 5th grade so what helps them remember verses and rules are actions and acronyms as well as catch phrases. One of my more popular sayings as my kids learn their memory verse is, "Fake it 'til you make it." Now, it may not sound like an appropriate thing to teach little kids, but I always present it with the proper context.

Kids, when they can't seem to remember their memory verse, tend to shy away from the words. They lose their boldness. When I say, "Fake it 'till you make it," it's to encourage them to be bold, to not be afraid of making mistakes, to make the mistakes with gusto and to learn from them.

I find myself now clinging to that adage in my own life. As my trip to the Philippines winds down, I find myself resting on that phrase more and more, "Fake it 'till you make it," because at the moment...it doesn't feel like I'll make it. I'm starting to lose my confidence in my ability to let go of this place for a second time.

The thought that I can rest on is that "it's doable, coming to the Philippines is a completely doable thing." It's just a matter of how much you want it, how serious you really are about it. So...am I serious about this? Am I serious about the Philippines?

A part of me is screaming, "Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes. and Yes."

But there is a tiny part of me that is holding back, a tiny part of me that thinks of my dad and my mom, of my sister and brother, of my life in the States. Could I really give all of that up? It's one thing to give myself a deadline, to stay for a month or a year or whatever, but always know that I have a return trip already paid for. It's another thing entirely to buy a one way ticket and to submit myself to the prospect of saving money here to try and return to the States.

That is a more daunting task. To have to save 64,000+ pesos...or more realistically, twice that amount, to try and return home.

"Fake it 'till you make it." Feign the confidence until you have it...be bold. Be strong. Be brave.

Two years is a long time. Much longer than a year. And so much changed in that one year...how much more will change? What exactly will I be coming back to? It won't be the same. Is that what I want? To come back to something I don't recognize? I guess that depends on what my expectations are. The first time I came, I had no expectations and that's why the experience was so amazing. It didn't disappoint. This time around, I already knew what my disappointments would be. But I still enjoyed. I still love this place. But next time?

Who knows what next time will bring.

Yeah....maybe that's something that I've got to hold onto for another two years.

"Balikbayan"

There was one night in Maydolong when the electricity went out and it was too hot to sleep upstairs. Kimberly and Joey brought the mattress from the spare bedroom down to the sala (living room), moved the coffee table out of the way so we could set up camp. We left the back door open, but the metal screen door locked. Joey turned the music from his phone on shuffle and the songs melded with the sound of the crickets outside.

Kimberly lit candles around the house. Two on the kitchen counter and one by the bathroom. It was still early, so we all nestled in, staring at the shadows that the candles cast over the walls. We talked about different things, I asked them questions about school and they asked me questions about home and about Lolo and Lola. Finally, I asked Joey, "What does 'Oo nga' mean?" prolonging the sound of the "a". He laughed.

"What? You mean "Oo nga?"

His "a" was short and clipped at the end and I repeated it before saying, "Yeah, that."

He explained that it was like a, "Yes of course," but that I had to say it correctly because, "Oo nga" with a prolonged "a" was the sound of a caribao. He proceeded to demonstrate, "Oh oh ngaaaaaaaaa," and I laughed so hard and so genuinely that eventually both Joey and Kimberly descended into the giggles.

The rest of the evening tapered off into a comfortable silence. We all laid out in the sala, quiet, with a peace I've never felt before. It was so humid that we each clung to the tile floor to try and keep cool, but eventually, we all fell asleep, the steady breathing of each other joining the sophisticated orchestra of Joey's OPM and the sounds of Maydolong at night.

When I woke up the next morning, having barely moved from my place on the wooden bench and my back feeling better than it had in years, the first sound I heard was of a caribao, "oo nga-ing" at the rising sun. I giggled until Kimberly woke up and giggled with me.

That is one of my favorite memories. It is one of the memories that led me to fall in love with the Philippines and whenever I miss it, whenever I find myself drowning under the "#firstworldproblems", I think back to that night and I find that peace all over again. I remember how simple it is to be happy when you let yourself be happy and how uncomplicated God's blessings really are when you take the time to see them for what they are: moments of peace and love.

When I was leaving the Philippines I couldn't stop crying. I was so overwhelmed by everything that had happened. I was so empty and so full all at the same time that I couldn't reconcile myself. It was hard for me to move on. But I knew that God sent me to the Philippines for a reason and He brought me back home for a reason as well. It took me almost a year to truly embrace that, but I did and it has made my experience here now, coming back, that much more enriching. I needed the year to grow apart from who I was when I was here, because God has not finished with me yet and now I can truly be excited for that.

Things have changed. The "Balikbayan" has returned to a place that is in a different place in its life. Maydolong, along with all of my friends, have grown and changed and matured. It's both encouraging and saddening. I miss my friends, I miss our time together and the things we did as friends. But at the same time, its good that things have changed, they couldn't stay the same, because none of us are the same.

And more than that, this allows me to see that, in spite of all of the changes...I still love the Philippines. Memories like the one of that humid night so long ago, are still real and they are still beautiful and they are still important, because they connect us: me, Joey, and Kimberly. It binds us together as family and friends. God gave us that and every time I come here, for years to come, I will remember that night and the other nights I spent with the CYF, with Lolo and Lola. I will remember them and love them just as I did back then.

That's what a "Balikbayan" returns for, the memories of a time long since gone and the chance to make new ones in the time we're in.

There is no denying it, God has carved a special place in my heart for this country, most specifically this town and these people. I am enjoying the quiet and the peace and the love. I now only wish that I could share this with the world. If only they knew that the Philippines is still the pearl of the orient. If only they knew....

462

It has been 1 year, 3 months, and 6 days since I've been on Philippine soil. 

That means, it's been 462 days of me completely badgering my parents about coming back here, of me dreaming of missions work, teaching, and just living my life, of me praying that God would reveal the purpose of this desire, of me crying over how painful it was to not know why I felt so strongly for a country I had only spent a fraction of my life in.

462 days of me feeling so stretched thin that I felt I might rip in half...

So how does it feel now that I'm here?

Honestly? Kind of the same. I won't deny that I am over the moon to be back and to be able to share experiences with people that I haven't seen in over a year. I am excited to take on the day and visit friends and family. I'm excited to go back to Samar and see how everything has changed. But that doesn't alter the fact that I've been changed, that I am a different person than who I was when I left and so this whole experience is with different eyes.

I wish my sister and brother were here. I wish I could share this with my mom and dad. But there is blessing in them not being here. Actually, I see the blessing in even my family, who lives here in Manila, not being here to kind of navigate my journey. This way I am truly independent which will help me see this place as what it would be if ever there comes a day when I come back for more than just a month.

More than that, it allows for me to take this experience with the perspective it deserves: mine.

I am excited to take on this adventure. To find resolve for the things that I felt didn't have it 462 days before and to maybe become aware of some of the things that need resolve when I go back to the States. I'm excited to adapt all over again and to fall in love with the Philippines with greater passion.

I'm excited to be a Balikbayan. "Balik" means "to return" and checking off that box on my customs form gave me a thrill like no other. I'm excited to see what happens this month and how different I am going to be by the end of it.

462 days. We'll see what 25 more days will do, shall we?