Category Archives: Miranda

It’s strange to think that only a couple of months ago I was in the Philippines meeting with communities and agencies, hearing their stories, their challenges, and hopes for a conflict free society. It is so easy to forget about a place you have visited when you become engrossed in the daily grind of graduate school. Whenever I come back from being in developing nations I am initially aware of my consumption patterns, the waste I create, and the things take for granted. Over time this awareness decreased and I go back to my western consumerist lifestyle. Mindanao is no longer on my mind they way it was before. Initially, everything I did or heard brought me back to thinking about Mindanao. During class lectures when the topic of economic development having a “trickle down” effect for impoverish communities was mentioned, I thought about the presentation we were given by MIDA (A government development agency). When there was discussion on structural violence, I thought about how the government of the Philippines has neglected the island and how its children remain malnourished in many parts of the region. When I prepared a meal, I would think about the food from the region, and how much I missed my vegetables and bland food. Food always brings me back to the meals we had in the mornings and how we would pile in the van and be off to our next destination. Especially all the food that was prepared on behalf of our visit.

I really like the fact that when I see students from the trip around campus we have an automatic connection. Seeing them brings back a flood of memories. When we are together we joke about some of the more funny things about the trip, like the horrible tiny red chairs in the Van that all of us took turns sitting in. Or the “benches” that consisted of a single 2×4 board, that we rested our bottoms on for almost 8 hours, and the cockroaches that most folks were afraid of. Had I not participated in the trip, I may never have gotten the opportunity to know most of its participants. It was great that some of the students came from different disciplines and had such different research topics. It forced me to learn about subjects that I would not have necessarily researched on my own. It is always interesting to see how others think and perceive information. I am incredibly grateful to our host organization for giving us the opportunity to meet so many different actors in the Philippines. Most important, I am grateful to my professor who provided me with this experience. I have said it once, and will say it again; the J-term course to Mindanao was the academic opportunity of a lifetime.

It is over! One of the things I have been dreading most since our return from the Philippines to the central coast; OUR PRESENTATION! Naturally I do not like a lot of attention and am terrible at public speaking. I am the person that becomes red, sweaty, and has a quiver in their voice; where you would think I was crying. Knowing that I was going to have to present my findings in front of a big group of people was incredibly frightening. I prefer to be more behind the scenes; it is nice and comfortable there. All the participants from the trip contributed to the presentation as well. We even had a rehearsal night that was long and taxing, but the use of humor helped us through the evening. It was nice to see the group working together again, helping one another and providing positive reinforcement when someone like myself, became nervous and forgot what they were supposed to say.

I anticipated that the presentation that would be boring. Most academic presentations about research findings can make a person like myself, who already has a short attention span, mind wander and create a mental grocery list. I can say without a doubt that our presentation was anything but boring. In fact it was a bit avant-garde and had a theatrical element to it. It is incredibly challenging to share with a group of people your findings about a conflict, while at the same time not having them fall asleep. How is one able to present the gravity and complexity of a conflict that is happening in Mindanao, is there a right way? We told our story and the stories of others from the field the best we could. I feel the presentation was an overall success.

Being a childless adult woman, I don’t often think about children and their development on a regular basis. I am the aunt of 7 nieces and nephews and it is only when I am around them that I start to ponder their development, their innocence, and the wonderful cliché;  that they are the future. While some elementary school photos and abstract artwork hang from my fridge, I never think about them in the sense of having the responsibilities of ensuring peace, meaning, and insuring the absence of war in their community. It is something I naturally assume will always be. They are incredibly lucky that their parents can afford to have them grow up in safe neighborhoods; attend decent schools and that they have both their parents in their lives.

More than likely, they will not have to carry the burden that many of the children in central Mindanao do; the burden of being the creators and sustainers of peace in their communities. I am truly hopeful that the various forms of peace education will have a significantly positive effect on the population and the region at large. There appears to be a tension between the peace instruction they receive in school and the violence they experience at home or in their community. A cultural of violence appeared to be engrained in their daily lives, from the presence of weapons by security forces, to the graphic news on the TV and in the papers. There was also the phenomena of professional jealousy, something I had never heard before. Where someone is harmed or killed due to their occupational successes. This happened to a peace school’s principal. I remember my own principal dying during my childhood, but it was not from murder. The thought never crossed my mind to ask, if there were other titles that existed to cause harm or death to another. Like many other children in the world, the children of Mindanao are resilient, incredibly intelligent, and super cute. I believe they will ultimately have a positive impact on the peace process and society.

After our trip, several students and I stayed behind to travel on our own for a couple of days before the semester started back home. As I relaxed on beautiful sandy beaches and visited a “natural wonder” on Palawan Island, I tried to escape from all the information and sad stories I had heard during the previous two weeks. I did not want to think about the conflict anymore. I wanted to be like many of the other tourists, ignorant about the country and enjoy only its beautiful scenery and charming people. Someone said to us on the ground, “after this you get to go home, we have to stay behind and have to live here”; touché! I had no idea that the day I hopped on my plane back to the US, that a botched military operation to capture some high profile rebels left close to 70 people dead and a community terrorized. It is amazing how fragile some situations are. One day you can be talking about peace and all the things you are doing to keeps its momentum, and the next day violence breaks out causing thousands to once again flee their villages.

The feeling I had when I left the island was positive; I believed things were going to get better. As I sit here reading the news I feel sad with a powerful sense of hopelessness about the situation. I keep thinking of all the people we met who had so much hope, and had worked so hard to keep the peace. This news article I read earlier this evening is claiming that Malaysia is assisting the Philippine government in preparing for the eruption of war and surges of displaced people to the southern region of Mindanao. It further predicted that if Bangsamoro Basic Law is not passed in June; there will be full-out war. Others contend that the president of the Philippines along with the prime minster of the Malaysia, are using scare tactics as a last ditch efforts to pass the BBL. The only information I have access to regarding the situation is from the press, and who knows what biases they have. I vividly recall talking with a worker from a peace organization that made the statement “if the BBL does not pass there will be fighting, if it does pass there still will be fighting”.

I love the fact that the trip consisted of a mostly female entourage. We heard several times that women are the builders of peace. It was exciting to see the work that women are doing with their NGO’s, community programs, and even their experiences being in politics. It was very inspiring and empowering. On the other hand, we had some interesting experiences when we met with Barangay leaders (village officials), which were predominantly male. There was the occasional woman that assisted these officials, but it was clear they were not being given very many opportunities to speak. Of course, there could have been factors such as shyness, or lack of English speaking skills: there always seemed to be a male that would speak on their behalf, and at sometimes speak over them. In one of the meetings I recall a female official, struggling to speak over another male. Initially she was somewhat quiet, but as the presentation progressed she became more boisterous. I wanted to stand up and tell the man, will you let her speak without interrupting!? We talked about this quite a bit on the trip; the roles women play in the public sphere and in the home. We were told that, although it may appear that some women have little authority in society, however when you enter their homes they rule the roost.

I keep thinking about some of the responses we had from males while we visited organizations; it makes me smile. I wonder if they were prepared ahead of time, like, “Hey tomorrow you are going to be visited by a group of very tall women all from academic institutions in the United States”. Their initial facial expressions once we arrived and even after we commenced our meetings, made me think that they had not been forewarned.

I don’t know what it is this semester but so far it’s been pretty weird. I wake up every morning tired and linger in bed. I think to myself, 30 more minutes and I will have enough energy to leap out of bed and start my day. This doesn’t happen, though I stay in bed most of the time half awake. I have been having a hard time getting back into the swing of things, but this process has been painful and somewhat unsuccessful. I initially thought it was my jetlag; it took quite a long time to return to decent sleep schedule and yet it has not been the same since before the trip. I still find myself getting tired midday. I’ve talked with fellow trip members and some report feeling similar. I don’t know what this is. Do I have a case of the post J-term blues of some kind? This was not my first trip abroad, let alone to a developing country. I can say that it has been one of the most informative trips by far. Never have I learned so much about a regions social and politically issues.

People around campus along with close friend and family have asked me about my January-term wanting to know what it was like, what I saw, how was the food. Of course those who knew what I was specifically visiting for, asked what was the craziest thing that happened. I have been responding with a question, “how much time do you got” because I find myself thinking how can I possibly encapsulate my experiences in 2 minutes. Most people just want a quick summary, sometimes I give details and other times I just respond with, “it was amazing, one of the coolest things I have ever done bla bla bla…”

It’s interesting the conversations I have had with people over the topic of guns. I somewhat used to the occasional handgun on a police officer, which I have had many encounters with due to my previous job. I remember when police would come to our offices I always found myself staring at their belts and all the gadgets they had hanging from it, what they were for. My eyes would move to their Tasers and when I would get a glimpse of their the gun I would become transfixed. I found myself thinking about how heavy it might be, what it would feel like in my hand. And how I would be one of those people who accidently shoot themselves by mishandling it. Its funny the paranoid thought would cross my mind: I hope they do not notice me staring at it, and think I am going to reach for it. Perhaps it’s been an obsession of mine. I recall being around 8 years of when a police officer came to my school assembly. I asked him if he had ever shot anyone before. Kids say and ask the darnest things.

In my travels I have seen weapons quite a bit, men standing outside of banks with shotguns or soldiers at checkpoints, so the image of a semiautomatic rifle was not too big of an issue in the past. I never liked when they stood around with their guns pointed straightforward rather than having them pointed at the ground. So what was it about this trip that made me uncomfortable when seeing security forces with a weapons? Was I playing too much into the hype? Was I dramatizing my visual experiences? The answers to these questions are yes and yes.

We were told that participants of the M.I.L.F., M.N.L.F, B.I.F.F., N.P.A. etc. live as civilians, and take up arms when the time is ripe. Many times when I sat in a room with Government officials and community members I often found myself scanning the room, looking from one community member to another, from head to toe wondering, who are they? Have they ever fought? Who have they lost in this conflict? During the presentations I always tried to see who official looked at in the community when there was discussion about combatants, as if their look would give some kind of secret away. Or if there was something more to that frequent laugh and smile when we asked uncomfortable questions.

I remember thinking what a stark contrast: just yesterday I was in an internally displaced persons (IDP) camp and today I am at a resort where a small bottle of water costs more than 30 pesos. What exactly does that mean? Well while we were in a farming community, it was shared with us that the average farmer makes a small income of 150 pesos a day, which is around $3.50. Amazing and sad. Even more disturbing was our visit in the evening an IDP camp. So like taking a tour bus the way someone would if they were visiting the lavish homes of the movie stars in LA, we drove through their community. During our ride to the camp we given information about the community, the government construction of these camps and even the numerous challenges community members face when living in such close proximity to one another. The vehicles tinted window’s obstructed people’s views from outside the van. Many of the makeshift homes front yards had been converted in to stores selling everything from bread to tools. We saw children playing in the street being kids and a group of teens practicing a dance routine, being teens. Then we were told the unfortunate reality, that these communities have high incidents of crime, substance and physical abuse and sexual assault. After we were told why we could not leave the vehicle. Never had the thought crossed my mind that if people saw us, a group of women with notepads and pens, looking different than Filipinos, they might assume we were there to provide some kind of relief. Who wants to give false hope to a community that has lost so much and continues to struggle? We drove home in the darkness; most of us were silent. I assume we were lost in their thoughts. I kept thinking about this community and how many family members were killed or had disappeared after the typhoon, how many had lost a parent, a sibling or perhaps all of their family.

There is something that has stuck with me for quite some time, that I still find myself reflecting upon. Again during an informal conversation that some of us students had with a peace activist, the topic of corruption, threats of violence, and one’s own imminent death were discussed. We were able to engage in intimate conversations when we broke for lunch, which allowed us to mingle with different individuals from the community. I had heard previous stories of failed assassinations and threats back in Davao from another peace builder but for some reason this particular conversation stuck with me. When this person spoke they appeared calm about the prospect of harm. They halfway joked by saying the community was so small, and the issues so transparent that if one day they were murdered everyone would know who was responsible for their assassination. I was shocking and saddened to hear someone speak so candidly about something so terrible and scary. At what point in this person’s life, did they come to terms with this idea? Why not just stop doing what they do? I am beginning to see that being an advocate for peace can have serious consequences.

I marvel at the courage individuals have when they strive to create more peaceful societies. Trying to create peace in a region or community can take ones entire lifetime before real progress can be seen. The peace work being done with children at this very moment in time might not show its benefits until they are adults themselves. I started thinking about my own future goals and if peace building will have any place in my future professional and personal goals. I wonder if I would be capable of putting my own life on the line to create peace? We discussed in class last semester the potential danger individuals may face when they work in post-conflict areas. The threats a person can face are beyond those of ex-combatants or military. What I am seeing are the various actors that become entangled in conflicts, and even how there are corporations and people who will exploit conflicts to achieve their own objectives. When you are a threat to someone’s or a group’s agenda or business prospects, you can easily be ‘eliminated’.