Walang Iwanan: A decade of growing up with Gawad Kalinga

October 5, 2013 marked the first decade of existence for a non-profit that I grew to become involved in over the years. Just a month later, that same non-profit is on the move again in providing relief efforts in Typhoon Haiyan, showing much it has evolved beyond the perception in its younger years that it just builds homes for the homeless. Indeed, these past ten years have been quite an experience for this organization that has not only built homes, but have also provided so many programs for those that otherwise couldn’t afford to have. And as they implement their latest example of Operation Walang Iwanan amidst their 10th anniversary, I want to reflect on the experiences with this non-profit that aims for a better nation.

We've witnessed it whenever we visit the Philippines: the disparity between the haves and have-nots that can be seen from the towering condos and slums within a stone's throw away from each other to the children begging for change after exiting an air-conditioned mall. Originally, visits to the Philippines as a teen seemed more like literal guilt-trips for me. It certainly was a reminder of how lucky I am to have the comfortable lifestyle I have  back in the US, but it also brought upon something else: an urge to do more in combating the likes of poverty. But where do I go to help out? What do I do? What CAN I do?

I first heard of GK back in 2004 from my endless browsing of the SkyscraperCity Philippines forums. The discussion board itself became more than just a place to chat about buildings but about Philippine-related issues ranging from the economy to Pilipino literature. One thread was about a group in the Philippines that started off as an outreach program for a Couples for Christ, Catholic lay group, and eventually grew to become a large anti-poverty effort led by Tony Meloto, fondly known by many of us as Tito Tony. And honestly, it took me a while to correctly pronounce "Gawad Kalinga" (Tagalog for "to give care"... you should see me try to pronounce "Gawad Kalasugan", the community healthcare arm).

A lot of folks remember at the time remembered them as a Habitat for Humanity-esque program as donors could help provide a house for a homeless family for as low as $1,200. However as I dug through the thread, I began noticing that they provided so much more than just homes: community, youth development, food self-sufficiency, environmental awareness within those communities that they built. In a nutshell, it looked like they were in it for the long run! They didn’t provide just roofs over their recipients but also a chance at a life beyond poverty.

And as much as I wanted to help out more, the mobility of a fourteen year old combined with supportive but busy parents proved it to be hard to participate in events. It took me a couple more years before I participated in my first ever group fundraiser, which, out of all places, was during my study abroad experience in Japan! I ended up dancing the Maglalatik in a dinner fundraiser hosted by Tita Susan, where the proceeds would go to GK. I never did get involved with the Pilipino clubs in my early years of high school in the US but I still couldn’t escape the rite of passage of having to do at least one Pilipino dance as a teen.

Returning to the US, I would make an effort to attend the GK’s summits up and down California and would donate here and there, but I never did become more involved. That all changed during a fateful encounter that occurred in a snowstorm that shut down roads between LA and my hometown. The only way to get in and out was by train and that ended up being as packed as a Tokyo subway. As uncomfortable as it was, I somehow ended up sandwiched next to a Fil-Am family who turned out to be GK advocates. Through that bit of coincidence, I ended up being linked to Ate Josie, who was coordinating an awareness event at UCLA. And through that I ran into Jonathan, an advocate from Chicago. A few weeks later, I ended up tagging along with him to Zamboanga, and what an experience that was!

Each year, GK hosts a five day event called the Bayani Challenge where teams from all walks of life and all around the world come together to a GK site and build homes alongside interacting with beneficiary families, working with local groups, and create relationships with fellow compassionate souls. While admittedly it would’ve been more efficient to have just donated the money that would’ve otherwise been spent on the airfare, the ability to be on the ground ourselves and see the results of our donated dollars was rewarding in its own right. It helped remind us of why we advocate, and that GK goes beyond just building homes, figuratively and literally. I was eager to join the first one in 2006 as a response to the mudslide that struck in Southern Leyte. Unfortunately though, solo visits to the Philippines were a no-go for my family back then. It took me three more years until I could finally set foot on a BC build site.

I first attended the Bayani Challenge with students and alumni from Ateneo de Manila then eventually with GK USA’s own team and the experiences I had in those builds were nothing short of memorable. The sort of teamwork seen and is something that still resonates. I always remember folks ranging from little kids to Marines jumping in to create a human chain in bringing cement to a totally different team’s house. And let's not forget the other international teams we've worked with. I'd have friendly jabs with our Pilipino-Australian friends from Team Southern Cross a couple times while in our most recent BC we had back-up from our Pil-Can buddies! Admittedly though there are trying times as well as I’ve had my fair share which is then further exacerbated by the tropical climes that would have both tempers and temperatures rise as the days go by.

The hardest was in 2010, when I was with the Ateneo team in Palawan. I had lost my brother just a few months before and was still admittedly a grieving mess. I was in no position to emotionally be there yet I committed to it, and with much difficulty. However, the patience and kindheartedness of my teammates stood out despite my constant outbursts. I believe I held the group back, but they didn’t make it seem that way. Instead, they took time to help me out. Looking back, the same kindheartedness I received while on the ground on that specific BC is a constant reminder how much more compassion I can share as an individual, that I can do more in helping comfort others beyond just an “I’m sorry,” and a reminder of how simple things, ranging from a simple greeting to taking time to touch base, can help make or break someone’s day.

But what's most touching is meeting the people that benefit from all this. A few days after attending Bayani Challenge 2011 at Bantayan Island (which ended up being in the crosshairs of Haiayan's path a couple years later), I joined Team GK USA in visiting the Hope Village at Bagong Silang, Caloocan City. Bagong Silang is home to the largest slum in the Philippines, and happens to be the location of the first ever home built by what was to eventually evolve into GK. There, we met a gentleman by the name of Raffy Saberonio who was the president of the homeowner association, and the tour guide of the Hope Village and the slum butting alongside it. On one side we saw the makeshift homes, while on the other side the bright colored GK homes; truly the epitome of night and day. He himself has been waiting 14 years for a permanent home, after being relocated by the government. I can't forget the tears he shared, but how thankful he was to have us visit a place that progress seemed to forget--until GK came in. As what teammate Frederick Aguinaldo commented after the visit:

"It is one thing to hear the background of Bagong Silang, it is a totally different experience when actually visiting  ground zero."

And as I see GK utilize their resources once again in disaster response via Operation Walang Iwanan (no one left behind), I'm reminded of the legacy they've made in the past decade and the people that made it possible. The tens of thousands of volunteers worldwide, the generous donors, the celebrities that put their reputation behind this cause, all united under one goal: bringing millions out of poverty. Unfortunately there will always be challenges to reaching that milestone, with the most recent reminder being Typhoon Haiyan. Yet GK's efforts seem to be the embodiment of the Japanese adage "fall down seven times, stand up eight." We see it through the actions of their immediate response via Operation Walang Iwanan, and long term by the planning going on towards providing housing for those displaced.

Indeed my experience with watching GK grow this past decade has been exciting and has me looking forward to what's to come in the next ten years with hopefully more fellow Fil-Ams joining us in events such as the Bayani Challenge, Bayani Tour, and many other programs!

If you want to become more involved in GK's efforts, check out the GK USA website for more info!

Photo credit: Gawad Kalinga

The Journey of a Brown Girl Community Launch Party

The Journey of a Brown Girl's launch party on November 15 brought attendees to The Living Gallery in Brooklyn, a cozy space just waiting to be christened with community. The walls were decorated by original creations by Journey's own team members and performers, including Vanessa Ramalho's handmade scarves, apparel by Inez Galvez, the iconic Journey painting, and even live art created on site by Karoleen DeCastro. Aside from fundraising for the production itself, 15% of proceeds from donations would benefit Sagip-Tulong sa Pilipinas (STP)'s relief funds for those affected by Typhoon Haiyan. The four actresses, Vanessa Ramalho (Fire), Karen Pangantihon (Earth), Renee Rises (Wind), and Precious Sipin (Light/Mother) opened the show, along with a piece from the show's creator Jana Lynne Umipig. The night was akin to an intimate family gathering, including familiar faces from Tagalogue, with an abundance of drinks and people, packed in to the point where some were sitting on the floor. A wide range of acts went on, including those by Chris Celiz, Andre Dimapilis, Nicole Maxali, Renee Rises and Luis Guillien, Deep Foundation, and Hydroponikz. Spoken word, stand up comedy, beatboxing, rap, and song were all part of the lively mix–a testament to the growing Filipino Arts Renaissance. The center of the room played a stage, and the absence of boundaries allowed the vibrant audience and artists alike to absorb one another's talents and messages.

Learn more about The Journey of a Brown Girl's message at thejourneyofabrowngirl.com. Keep posted for its debut in Spring 2014.

Photo credit: Kristina Rodulfo

Blood is Thicker than Water: The Importance of Family in the Pilipino Culture

THWACK

A thin bar of plastic had descend on my shoulder. A hanger and my older sister wielding it.

SMACK

My sister was crying. My clenched fist had just collided with her stomach.

I was not quite ten and she not quite fourteen.

If you have siblings then you probably are, I venture to say, familiar with this type of experience. Growing up with two sisters – who were more like brothers when they were angry – I have experienced, and inflicted, my fair share of emotional and physical blows. I cannot count how many times I’ve been hit, punched, bitten or screamed at. How often I heard the words, “I hate you!" or felt the sting of a cold shoulder is beyond me. When we fought—and we fought A LOT—no feelings were spared, no insult was unused and at least one of us walked away with a bruise.

When I reminisce about all the childhood clashes that classified my sisters as enemies, two things happen. One, I realize that my sisters and I were little barbarians when we were younger. I mean when you resort to biting an adversary, you've regressed a few evolutionary steps.  Two, I look at us now and wonder how did three people who could so easily "hate"  each other become three people who could not live without one another? I suppose some of it has to do with getting older. As the number on our birthday cakes increased, the petty differences that pitted us against one another dwindled in importance. But was it really just time that changed us? Definitely not.

A blur of flying fists and ugly words — especially now, more than a decade later— I remember very few details about our fights. What I do remember is my father saying this:

"Love your sisters. At the end of the world, your family is all you have."

Repeated each time I ran to my room in tears, my dad's advice became tradition. No argument felt complete unless it ended in his voice and these words. There seems nothing abnormal about this; just a father trying to mediate between his bickering children.  However, there was strange and remarkable about this advice: I didn't have to fling a toy at my sisters to hear it. Any situation in which my dad had my attention, he found some way to remind me how essential my family is (the man could turn conversation about Christmas dinner into a sermon about family!). But however much fun I like to poke at my father's lessons, they worked. There is no one I trust more than my little sister, no one I can joke around with like my Ate. And as I became older, I began to understand these values were not exclusive to just my family. Like the eight-rayed sun, close family bonds are indicative of the Pilipino culture.

The family stands at the center of the Pilipino culture. A beautiful feature that only adds to the richness of our culture, many Pilipinos - myself included - do not often ask why. Why is family such a crucial part of life for Pilipinos?  According to Ador Vincent Mayol in the Global Nation Inquirer, religion is the driving force behind this mentality. Mayol asserts that the family is a gift from God and as a cohesive unit it is a representation of the Lord. It is no surprise, then, that the arduously Catholic Pilipinos feel the need to strengthen family ties as another means of showing reverence to God. No doubt, the family, my family,  is a great blessing. However, I would like to share a different possibility.

The Philippines is a poor country. Yes, it houses the very modernized, very affluent Manila, but the greater majority of this island nation is in a state of seemingly perpetual poverty; its poverty level have remained stagnant for the past six years.  So impoverished is the Philippines that the goal of many of its younger residents is to leave the country, unwilling to raise a family in these dire conditions. This is a disheartening fact, but it is one that, I believe, encourages Pilipino families to develop such unshakable relationships. When you have  no financial stability and very few material possessions, and when you live in fear that at any moment you could be removed from school because of insufficient funds, the only constant thing is your family. In a country whose economic state is constantly testing the physical and emotional resilience of its people, the family in the Pilipino culture is a gold mine of strength.  It is the cushion for when one falls and the holler of joy when one succeeds. The family provides, for Pilipinos, a sense of togetherness and emotional stability vital in a situation earmarked by toil and inconsistency.

Am I glad that my parents, my titos and titas, my grandparents faced such hardship? Never. No one should have to wonder if they'll have enough money to buy a decent meal or suitable clothes. However, I do consider myself lucky having been born to Pilipino parents, born into a culture defined by endurance and a clear understanding about the importance of family.

"We never had a lot, but we always had each other." -Glenn Estavillo, my dad

Emerging Leader: An Interview with Storyteller Kent Truog

Meet Kent Truog, a photojournalist currently on the ground in the Philippines. Kent believes in the power of visual storytelling, and has been working on his craft since 2008. His work focuses on telling the stories of individuals in Honduras, Indonesia, Cambodia, and Kenya, many of which are rarely seen in today's media. Kent has helped to shed spotlight on endangered dolphins in Thailand and Cambodia. He has even worked with social entrepreneur and impact speaker Mark Gonzales on suicide awareness and prevention. His most recent work has been covering the aftermath of natural disasters in the Philippines, including the earthquake that hit the Visayas, as well as Super Typhoon Yolanda (Haiyan). In this interview, Kent gives on the ground insight to the situation in Tacloban. He continues to update his social media networks on his experience there, weeks after the typhoon crashed into the PI. For regular updates, follow Kent on Tumblr and Twitter @kenttruog.

1. What brought you to the Philippines? How long have you been there?

I’ve been living in Southeast Asia off and on for about four years now. During a stint in Cambodia, I was lucky enough to meet a girl with a similar passion for international aid work, which has since taken us to India and now the Philippines. We’ve been in the Philippines since April 2013.

2. What do you do there?

I work as a freelance documentary filmmaker and photographer.

3. When did you reach Tacloban? Have you been to other areas hit by Super Typhoon Haiyan/Yolanda? What is it like?

I was in Davao on the island of Mindanao when the storm hit, having just returned from Bohol, where I was documenting the relief work from the recent earthquake that devastated the island. I was immediately summoned to Leyte, with a first response team of an international NGO, to survey the damage. With the Tacloban airport out of commission, we had to fly into Cebu, where we then took one of the few ferries in operation to Ormoc -- a town a little over 100km from Tacloban. We had no idea what to expect upon arrival, as Ormoc also received extensive damage, and due to some travel delays, we didn’t arrive until about 10pm at night. Except for a few candles burning, it felt like a quiet ghost town. You cold see dark shadows in the damage behind the pier. One of the team members walked into town and found us a hotel that still had open doors (albeit no running water or electricity), so we stayed there the night.

The next morning, we found a jeepney willing to take us to Tacloban. The military had already begun to clear the roads, but the normally two-and-a-half hour journey took closer to six. We arrived in Tacloban the third day after the storm hit, and the sights on the ground were hard to process. There was devastation everywhere. Few buildings were left standing.

4. Are there any particular events that you've encountered (since the typhoon, or even the earthquake) that have made you question your work or what you're doing there? Are there any events that have reminded you why what you do is so important?

Not at all. Although Typhoon Haiyan has been by far the hardest even I’ve covered, my experiences in Bohol, and with Typhoon Phailin prior to that in India, prepared me well for everything I've experienced here in the Philippines. I knew what I was getting myself into, but seeing loss of life is never easy. All I can do as a storyteller is to help the rest of the world see what the people of the Philippines are going through, and help build a bridge between the international community and the people of Samar, Leyte, and Cebu. The Filipino people are amazing and are handing this calamity with a strength that is really inspiring. Each day I visit the field, I  find more people and more communities, working hand in hand and helping each other rebuild. It’s inspiring.

5. Have you been able to identify the major need in areas hit by the typhoon, or even the country as a whole in general? What can Pilipinos who are currently not living in the Philippines do to help?

The devastation is so extensive it’s been really hard to mentally process at times. I just wish that aid could rain from the sky. There are a lot of good NGOs out there doing great work. Find one you trust and believe in. A little bit of money can go a long way here.

6. Based on your experiences thus far, do you have any advice for our Filipino leaders, who are still figuring out their passion/work in life?

For those living abroad, return home if you can. Get to know your roots. The Philippines is an amazing place with wonderful culture and great diversity. I’m grateful to be able to live here at the moment and tell stories throughout this magnificent island chain.

Photo credits: Kent Truog

Gunshots and Ballot Boxes: Election Violence in the Philippines 2013 Regional Elections

On Monday, October 28, 2013, Pilipinos poured into polling stations throughout southern regions of the country. This election would place over 42,000 village heads and more than 300,000 national councilors into power. Unlike the U.S., Pilipino citizens did not need to be encouraged to participate in their village elections. While local U.S. elections dotted street corners and college campuses with political advocates in an attempt to raise election awareness and voter turnout, local elections in the Philippines had drawn out 75 percent of registered voters from their homes. “Election fever, even on a village level, is always intense in the Philippines,” commented Pilipino voter Carlo de Jesus. Pilipinos, it seems to me, better understand the value of a democracy. If this were the only distinction between Pilipino and American elections, I would be in higher spirits. However there is a second major difference and, sadly, it is not one to celebrate.

On Tuesday, November 5, 2013, the general elections occurring in the United States proceeded quietly, garnering no notable media attention. The winners peacefully ascended to their new positions of state and local power and, save the battered egos of the losing parties, Tuesday’s election claimed no casualties. The Philippines, however, could not say the same for itself. On that Monday, a symphony of grenade blasts and gunshots heralded the opening of the polls as violence erupted throughout several barangays, or Pilipino villages.

In Catubig of northern Samar in central Philippines, twenty people were reported dead while thirty were wounded in the wake of the 2013 village election.

On the island of Jolo, a vehicle carrying voters was gunned down, leaving the driver dead and four passengers wounded as reported by provincial police chief Senior Superintendent Antonio Freyra.

And in the Maguindinao province, a convoy of civilians were killed in what is now termed as the Maguindinao Massacre. Guilty of nothing save their support or familial relationship to Mindinao governor elect Esmael Mangudadatu, these fifty-seven dead embody one of the most merciless cases of election-inspired violence.

Voting centers, too, were targeted, as classrooms in a Buldon school were set ablaze and gunmen opened fire on a voting center in Midsayap in North Cotabato.  Even before polling stations were opened, the impending elections tainted southern Pilipino villages in blood red. In the weeks leading up to the election, twenty-two candidates were killed in pre-election violence. According to Associated Press, the cause of most of these deaths were shootouts.

Election Violence:  the Philippines' Unwanted Friend 

To the dismay of the Pilipinos, these examples make up only a small cluster of the 2013 election-related bloodshed. What is worse is that this is not the first year the Philippines has experienced such carnage. In fact, it would be unusual if voting seasons did not greet the Philippines with bullet wounds, overturned vehicles or countless casualties.  In 2009,  fifty-eight people died in a shooting allegedly plotted by a rival clan. This execution was the ranked the single worst killing of journalists in the world, leaving thirty-one media workers dead at the hands of armed militia seeking to maintain political control over southern Maguindanao. In 2010, according to the Commission on Elections and the Philippine National Police (Comelec), the Pilipino elections were defined by 180 outbreaks of election-related violence. Of the deaths that resulted, four were candidates but most were civilians, barangay officials and mayors. So familiar is the Philippines with these types of fatalities that the country tightened security in 6,000 villages in preparation for this year's elections. Before Catubig even saw the twenty deaths and thirty wounded mentioned earlier, 147 of Samar's villages had already been placed on a watch-list of areas where election-related incidents were likely to occur.

Elections are emblematic of democracy, representative of the people's choice. Preparation for an election should be a time of excitement as voters impatiently await the chance to contribute their opinion. Pilipinos embody this democratic spirit, hoards of them rushing to vote during each election. It is a travesty that their enthusiasm may cost them their lives.

Photo Credit: gulfnews.com