An Explanation of Half

Like I said... A story.

So I didn't write on my trip. I wanted to. Like all the time. I kept having so many strong emotions. Mostly emotions about understanding why I am the way I am. And then I would see the poverty, the illness, the struggle, and it made me ask so many questions. What I was realizing is that my knowledge and experiences in each moment didn't completely make since when they happened, but rather afterwards in reflection. So here I am, about to piece together an explanation of half, a half of me that might not have always made since before.  

One of my favorites. 

Even in the most darkest shadows and alley ways I would always see a bit of light. Not literally... it wasn't like a beam of light that parted between the clouds as if God were showing you a sign. But a light in many of the kids faces. There was some kind of joy deep inside. And not just the kids, but the people in general were some of the happiest I've ever met. As we went from town to town and did camps and clinics I started to understand why I am so "happy go jolly." Nothing could bring down or deepen the spirits of the kids we worked with. Even if we gave them a basketball drill that they couldn't do or a conditioning workout they might not liked, they found a way to laugh it off and have fun doing it! Off the court I see this in some of the "street kids." It didn't matter how bad their situation was, they still seemed to be the happiest person. 

Complete Joy! 

The other part to this, was their kindness and generosity. In my family I've always had tons of Tita's and Tito's (Aunts and Uncles). And we never really knew who were the real ones! Everyone it seemed, was either your cousin or aunt or uncle. Simply understanding it, it really doesn't matter! Family is family and kindness is kindness. They give and expect nothing back. It's this gratitude and generosity that I am constantly learning from and striving to have. 

Of course throughout the trip there were some frustrating parts. One of which was the food. Sad to say I couldn't eat any of it. Everything looked like the animal! I mean a chicken came out with it's head perfectly baked along with the rest of the body. Pork is served as a big fat pig and fish well, that wasn't so different. I just couldn't do it! About the only part I showed of being Pinoy was the fact that I do eat rice and I can eat with my hands. The end. Well there was one other frustrating part, the part that my dad always does. This is, ALWAYS having an answer for something. I mean seriously, even if they didn't know the answer, they made one up and gave it to you. I gave up asking the question "Where are we going?" and getting the response, "Over there" (even if we were 10 miles away). 

In the end, it was such a blessing and privileged to have taken this trip. It's not just a coincidence that I went, but a purpose. One day I plan to return and give back even more to the kids in need. They have my heart and if you only knew their story, they would have yours. 

Americans by tradition, Filipinos at heart.