The Thriller in Manila- week 1

Having taken the big plunge and moved to south east Asia for all of one week so far, I'm prepared to give my first, admittedly naive impressions of the city. I was forewarned that Manila was a big, dirty, developing city. It is big. I don't get the impression that it's dirty. I take that back MY neighborhood is not dirty. The rest of this massive and sprawling metropolis is probably dirty. The dirt is linked however, to the slow and ongoing development. There are 11.5 million people living in Metro Manila. That's almost twice the population of London!
Most of the city's residents live in tiny, one room, cement shacks with corrugated metal roofs and dirt floors. These places have neither running water, nor electricity. In one of our orientation sessions, we learned that in large families (which most Filipino families are- thanks Pope for telling Catholics not to use birth control!) houses are cramped, so they have to take turns sleeping at night so that everyone will have a chance to stretch out. That means in a typical family of eight, four people stretch out on the floor and sleep while the other four sit and lean against the wall to sleep. In the middle of the night, they switch places and the four lying down sit up so that the four sitting up can lay down. I'm guessing that if I had to eat, sleep, bathe, and live in one room with seven other members of my family that room might not be the cleanest place on Earth either. Dirty is relative.
This kind of abject poverty exists all over the city, but I live in a small, sanitized bubble of wealthy foreigners. On our way to a market Wednesday afternoon, I saw the shanty town behind the high, fortified walls of my school. All of the houses were precariously perched on the slope of the hill just below the high school track- invisible from anywhere on campus. Hand washed clothes were hung on lines between the corrugated metal roofs- four shirts and a pair of jeans comprising an entire wardrobe for people who exist for a month on what I spent drinking last night. Both incredible and sobering. My plan for my time here is to volunteer as much as I can and try to put a Band-aid on the poverty bullet wound that exists here.
In other, more frivolous news, my school is much more than I imagined. It is absolutely massive. I've been on two tours and left to wander on my own with a map, yet I still manage to get lost even after spending every day there for the last week. For the record, this is a testament to the largess of the school, not my poor sense of direction. There are three pools, two AstroTurf playing fields, a track, three gyms,and an 800 seat theater with a hydraulic lift in the orchestra pit. The three cafeterias have a mall food court style set up offering everything from sushi, to smoothies, to vegetarian and vegan meals, to pasta and pizza to soup and salad. My classroom is roomy. It came with pillows for sitting on the floor or doing silent reading. There are three desktops in there for student use and a desktop for my personal use. There's also a laptop cart for the MS English department. My classroom is tucked away on the third floor. I don't teach on Friday afternoons, so I plan to escape as often as possible for long weekends. That is if I make it past the two armed guards at the gate. No, seriously, they have weapons. By weapons I mean guns, seriously.
My apartment is about a 15 minute walk from work. There's always someone in the lobby to greet visitors. There are guards at the front gate. The place is a two bed, two bath, but a bit on the cozy side. I'm on the 28th floor, so I can see all of the way to Manila Bay from my living room window and the Pasig River from my bedroom. Now all I need to feel at home is my stuff. Yet sadly, that won't happen until August 31. On the bright side, Yemi is coming on August 21 to spend my birthday with me! I'm looking forward to my homeslice bringing me a little slice of home!