Brianwongderlust

In just one week, I’ve gotten used to a lot of the situations I thought would initially difficult to adapt to. The intermittent running water, electricity, and internet hasn’t really been much of a problem, and bucket flushing the toilets has become completely stress-free. Before coming here, I thought the cold water showers were going to be the hardest part about living here, but they feel absolutely amazing with the humidity and heat. I’ve also gotten used to the thin layer of dirt, sweat, and bug spray that immediately covers my body once I get out of the shower.

Living like this seemed so incredibly hard when I was used to all of the comforts of home, but getting accustomed to base life has been a lot easier than expected. (So easy that any of my theoretical readers should totally log on to www.hands.org and sign up for a project immediately!) In the grand scheme of things, we have it a lot easier than most of the people in the area, so there’s absolutely no reason to complain. I’m really glad we have everything that we do at base, and it’s starting to feel like home.

On the other hand, my biggest fear before touching down in Tacloban was getting Dengue Fever, but since I’ve experienced the joys of diarrhea-induced dehydration on a work site with a bucket flush toilet, I guess the fear of that resurfacing has been added to the list. Though Dengue Fever is still at the top of the list, and there’s even a highly informational warning board on base that can attest to why.

Summary: Don’t get dengue.

But above all, it’s been so easy to get used to the living here because the work that this organization is doing goes above and beyond what I thought coming in, and the impact can be felt every day. Whether it’s the person who gives you a free ride from the airport or the half-hour long conversation that pops up as you are leaving a café while wearing an All Hands shirt, the organization has created solid positive roots in the community. All Hands has worked on builds for temporary housing, permanent housing, beautiful local space, shelters, hospitals, schools, and so much more. No matter what kind of tough or different living situations they throw at the volunteers, we will always show up because this work matters.

We’ve currently got four major projects:

1. Building a classroom for a school
2. Building a dorm, office, study center, and clinic for a local organization
3. Beautifying the immediate area we live in, called Utap
4. Satellite project – Building an evacuation center in Hernani, a municipality on the eastern coast of Samar, a few hours from base

I’ll do individual posts about each work site I go to in the future (possibly much later since I want to post pictures and uploading them has proven difficult).

This has been a quick post, but just wanted to let everyone at home know that all is well and I’m feeling healthy and great. To wrap it up, the quote of the week went something like: If you get cement on your skin, it will eat through it and you will get a cement burn, but you can avoid this by washing it off immediately in the water over there, except the water has E. coli, so avoid touching your face afterwards. And if you have cuts on your hands…then maybe don’t.

Love it here.

Home sweet home

The All Hands Philippines base is three stories tall with a fourth story roof. There are bedrooms on the first and second floors and a common area on third as well as the kitchen and the staff offices. Everything is open air, so whatever temperature it is outside is also the temperature in the base. There are bathrooms and showers on the two first floors, and toilets on the second.

The bedrooms are coed and dorm-style. I’ve got three bunk beds in my room with six beds total, but people sleep all over the place. Some stay in the rooms, others bring their mattresses to the common areas, some to the roof, and there’s even a few people in hammocks. There hasn’t been a case of dengue fever in a few weeks.

When you let me pick my own mattress, you get a blue polka-dotted bed

Now this is where it gets interesting. Electricity and running water seem to be intermittent. Bathroom trips seemed problematic at first when there is no running water, but I’ve acquired the skill of the bucket flush, where pouring water into the toilet let’s gravity do the flushing. Internet connectivity is also pretty tough to come by, so expect blog posts to come slowly and sporadically.

The tap water isn’t safe to drink, but we’ve got filtered water in jugs at the base. Meals are served on work days, so we are left to our own devices to cook or buy food on Sunday, our day off. Most of our schedule can be found on the third floor, where there are a bunch of whiteboards detailing the different projects the All Hands is doing and who is assigned to each project.

Live and die by the board

The people here are from all around the world. I’ve met volunteers from the US, Canada, France, Italy, Germany, Poland, the Netherlands, Israel, and England, and it’s only been a day so far. There are 43 volunteers on base and about 15 staff, so there are so many more people to meet and stories to hear.

Even with all of the lifestyle changes, base is amazing. There’s something about bare feet, sweaty bodies, and optional shirts that’s liberating and refreshing. It’s eye-opening to see so many people from all walks of life who are eager to help out, and everyone has incredible stories to tell. I could get used to this.

View from base

Our driveway

Home

First floor

Second floor

Third floor

All packed up and ready to go!

The night before I left, I couldn’t sleep. I knew I should be savoring the warmth and comfort of my childhood bed one last time before a month of uncertain bed situations, but the road ahead was too exciting to let my mind rest. Instead, I tossed and turned, anxious to step onto the first of five planes and for the adventure to begin.

When 4:30am rolled around, I had probably only gotten an hour or two of actual sleep, and if that’s not the best way to start a trip halfway around the world, I don’t know what is. The next few hours were a bit of a blur, but I must have slept through most of my East-to-West-Coast flight because I woke up in San Francisco.

I boarded a short flight from San Francisco to Los Angeles, arriving at about 2:00pm only to realize that I was the king of planning stupidly long layovers. I must have thought it would take forever to gather my checked bag and exchange currency, but there I was at 2:30pm with my bag and my Philippines Pesos, with my next flight taking off at 10:30pm that evening. I wandered into the International Terminal to find that I wouldn’t even be able to get my ticket and check my bag until 6:45pm.

So I sat on the ground and waited. And I sat. And I stood up because my butt hurt. And I sat. And I changed out of my work boots because they were hurting my feet. And I sat. And I tried to find a chair because the floor is hard and the hours were not moving faster no matter how often I checked my watch. And I sat. And then it was 3:00pm.

Did I mention I am the king of planning stupidly long layovers?

Luckily, I eventually found a seat and fell asleep for an hour. When I finally checked my bag and got through security, there were only four hours left until my flight took off – halfway there! I grabbed some dinner and took out my laptop to try to pass the time which ended up working because the LAX internet was so slow it took me about 30 minutes to log into Facebook. So I wrote the beginning of this blog post instead.

Dinner at LAX – Umami Burger’s truffle burger. I long for this now.

Is this a flight list or just the list of places I want to go?

Tickets!

When it was time to leave the states, I boarded a large plane complete with personal entertainment devices at every seat. Gotta love international travel. The flight was scheduled to be about 15 hours long, so I settled into my seat, chose a bunch of music to listen to, started the playlist, and then dozed in and out of slumber until the drink cart came by.

The airline supplies various Chinese newspapers for the flight

Essentially says: easymode or hardmode

Now, I’ve been on international flights a fair number of times, but I never knew about this whole “alcohol is free” rule until recently, so I decided to try it out. Sure enough, the flight attendant supplied the materials to make Calimocho, and I was set until dinner came shortly after. The meal was some kind of beef and mashed potatoes, which I forgot to take a picture of despite my love of plane food, but you’re not really missing anything. After dinner, I pumped myself up to marathon a few movies, but passed out before I even started the first.

I’m pretty lucky in the sense that I can fall comfortably asleep in most situations. Floor of an airport? Check. Back of a car? Check. Seat on an airplane? Double check. I slept until they served congee/jook for breakfast, which I did manage to get a picture of. I watched a movie and a half (I think the universe never wants me to see the end of Argo, because this was the third time I’d started it and didn’t get to the end) before we landed in China.

Super excited for the Chinese breakfast on the flight

Turns out there’s not much of a line to get through immigration at 5:00am, so I quickly passed through and found my way to my gate for the flight to Manila. Luckily, the shops in the terminal started to open up at about 6:00am, so it wasn’t long before I was perusing through different teas and packaged preserved chicken thighs. I also found a place called Mike’s Pizza House, where I learned that the concept of Hawaiian Pizza had spread all the way to China.

Hi Mike

As the sun rose and the airport windows started to show something other than the black of night, I was able to catch glimpses of the mainland buildings before leaving to the Philippines. In the back of my mind, I made a mental note that I must come back and stay a while some time. With another destination added to my ever-expanding travel list, I boarded the fourth of five planes (almost there!) to get me to Manila.

Next stop, Manila

The flight from China to Manila had the best plane food of the trip so far. (Did I mention that I love plane food?) They served what would be my second breakfast and the choices were fish noodles or “Chinese Dim Sum” – do you even have to ask what I chose? My seat partner chose the fish noodles which looked like lo mein with fish, but the dim sum was delicious. The taro cakes were pretty good, but the chicken bao was amazing. If I am ever faced with “Chinese Dim Sum” on a plane again, I’m going all in.

So. Very. Delicious.

The flight was only two hours long, so I soon landed in Manila, but not before looking out the window to survey the landscape a bit. I’m not entirely sure what I saw, but from what I gathered, there seemed to be a lot of house skeletons submerged in water near the airport. It was pretty haunting to see as we descended from the sky, and the stretch of sunken houses seemed endless as we flew into the airport.

Haunting

Obligatory wing picture. Also, I’m in the Philippines now

Customs and immigration went extremely quickly, and I was soon ticketed with my bag checked for the last time for flight five of five. I got through security and immediately hit the shops to try and get my first Fanta sighting. I found “Royal,” which appears to be the name of Fanta in the Philippines, but all I could find were Orange and Grape flavors (or Tru-Orange and Tru-Grape). The search will continue.

Lorde would be proud

I found my gate with three hours to spare, so I decided to check out the food options in the airport, eventually settling at the most crowded place in the airport, a spot called “Let’s Chow!” I ordered the only thing on the menu I didn’t know how to pronounce and didn’t readily recognize, something called Tokwa’t Baboy, but they were out, so I settled with Pork and Rice instead. There were a bunch of places advertising something called “Rice Toppings” and from what I gathered from the pork and rice (Asado) dish, it is exactly as it sounds. With food in my stomach and the truest of Tru-Grape Royal in hand, I sat at gate 120 for the final leg of my trip, a short plane ride to Tacloban.

How can you go wrong?

Asado rice topping

The ever-elusive Tokwa’t Baboy

If it didn’t take me 10 minutes to load each picture, I’d reload this and rotate it

The plan was to board the plane at 3:00pm, getting me to Tacloban before 5:00, a perfect amount of time to stop by one of the shopping malls to buy a foam mattress before getting to base. But the plan is always open to unexpected changes, remember? So when the announcement came on that the flight was delayed, I sat back in my chair and got comfortable.

The woman to my left was named Josephine, or Josy for short. She was 69 years old and visiting her ancestral home in Tacloban for the 9^th anniversary of her father’s death. She was a widow with four grown children and she had taken to traveling the world when she was able. I told her all about my volunteer trip and the All Hands Volunteer program I’d be staying with in Utap, where it happened that she was staying as well. We chatted about travel and our families until our plane arrived, and she mentioned that we would be getting into Tacloban at 6:30, where it might not be safe to bring all of my luggage with me to the store and then base afterwards, so it would be best to get the mattress another day. She added that her nephew owned a tricycle, so she’d at least be able to help me get a ride from the airport to base without any of the locals trying to overcharge me for the trip.

When we touched down in Tacloban, I met up with Josy and she was unable to reach her nephew, so her brother-in-law and grandson offered to give me a ride in their car instead. They even went so far as to take me to the store so I could get a mattress before arriving on base. I made sure to thank them profusely and excessively over the course of the trip, but they all seemed happy to help. We said our goodbyes as they dropped me off at the base, and I’m not sure I’ll ever see them again.

There are people in this world who have kind souls, and I was lucky enough to meet one of them in the Manila airport. There are people who will help others without any expectation of payment or reward, without giving a thought to recognition or credit. These people can be found in the most unexpected places, under the most unexpected circumstances, but they are everywhere, and that thought makes me feel a little more optimistic about this world. Josy and her family are some of these people, and as I looked up at the All Hands base, listening to the other volunteers moving around inside, I hoped I could be too.

Over the past seven years, Washington, DC has become the place where I thought I could spend the rest of my life. It’s where I went to college, had my first full-time job, and where I finally felt like an independent adult. I may have spent the first 18 years of my life living in Massachusetts, but DC is where I truly grew up. I had heard stories of people falling in love with cities and I never knew what they meant until it happened to me. I love DC. DC is my home.

So when I decided that it was time to leave, most of my family and friends were confused. I had a great job, lived in a great apartment, had great friends, and constantly ranted about the great city where I had spent a great seven years. Everything was great. Everything seemed great.

My social life was great. I had a group of friends to nerd out with and watch League of Legends games at different bars around the city. I had a group of friends who cooked meals together and watched stupid TV shows. I had a group of friends who ran steps and hills at 6:30am and shouted “Fuck Yeah!” at the feet of President Lincoln.

My professional life was great. I had recently closed the biggest project of my project management career, and I loved every second of it. I loved the people I was working with and the company we were working for. I loved the feeling that I could be friends with my coworkers and that we could share ideas without feeling judged or embarrassed. I’d heard this kind of culture wasn’t that common in most workplaces, and I knew I was a part of something special.

My five-year plan (or whatever you call it) was great. I was saving enough money to pay for my apartment, eat out at nice restaurants every so often, and take annual international tourist trips. I had a 401k and health insurance and I owned stocks that I may have purchased by accident but I had stocks nevertheless. I was thinking about buying a condo and my life was set to be comfy and financially stable.

So why did I leave?

I grew up with the impression that happiness was defined by the stability of my job, the depth of my compensation, and the title on my business cards. If that were the case, I’d be spending the rest of my time living out the life I’d built in DC, but I’ve come to realize that there’s more.

I once feared change. I feared that I was always moving forward, working towards this life achievement of being happy through a narrowly defined version of success, and that unexpected change derailed me from that path. I had everything planned out, and if I followed the right steps, the plan would make me happy.

But the beauty of life is that there is no plan, and unexpected change can be amazing. Smiling at someone in the street might lead you to meeting your new best friend. Spending time with the family you distanced yourself from in the past can help you finally understand them. Helping a random stranger in the street can turn their entire life around. Leaving a well-paying, comfortable job can challenge you to become a better version of yourself. And leaving a city you love can help you grow into someone more capable of making a difference.

I thought I was immune to the DC revolving door syndrome that had claimed so many past acquaintances, but I guess I was wrong. Since I’ve left, the plan I’ve crafted is to volunteer in the Philippines and then hopefully eventually teach English in Korea. But this time, the plan is open to unexpected change. The plan is open to building new relationships and repairing old ones, starting with the family who knows me best. The plan is to become a better version of myself, and to inspire better versions in everyone around me. The plan is to travel the world and learn new perspectives on life, whether it be in different countries or at home on US soil. The plan is to stop planning and start living, and it’s ever-growing, ever-changing, and ever so exciting.

Originally posted on Thought Catalog