| TRIP
MAGAZINE VOL. 4
Turning Into Something
Else
It has been more than a decade since I
first set foot on Malipayon, a far-flung barrio in Bukidnon.
Before I arrived in Malipayon, I heard stories about it
from former JVP volunteers in our orientation seminar. The
stories were not exactly encouraging for me. Even the assurance
of Tim Gabuna, then National Director, that “Only
the best are sent to Malipayon,” was not enough to
convince me that I would be okay. To me, it was not a good
sign that JVP was sending volunteers to Malipayon for the
tenth year. By JVP standards, Malipayon is a 5th world JVP
area.
Despite all the discouraging talk about
Malipayon, I mustered enough courage to go to my area of
assignment where I was going to teach. I could not understand
how I felt when I saw my area for the first time: impassable
roads, barren and dry fields and people staring back at
you like you were an intruder. I remember trying to hide
my disappointment when I saw the shack where my partner
and I were going to stay and live for a year. I looked for
the basic necessities of a comfortable life, but to my disappointment,
they where nowhere to be found: there was no running water,
no electricity, no telephone, no soft mattress and no toilet
with flush. I had heard from another volunteer that Malipayon
was becoming too dependent on JVPs. The judgment seemed
unfair, but also true. Being the tenth batch of JVPs to
be sent there, I wondered why the barrio appeared not to
have changed or progressed at all over the years. In trickles,
I began to understand why Malipayon received that 5th class
classification.
I remember that in one of our home visits
to another barrio, I saw high tension wires from afar and
asked a co-teacher why those wires had not reached Malipayon.
“If those wires reach us, we would have electricity
and having electricity means turning Malipayon into something
else,” she said shrugging her shoulders. I looked
at her puzzled, wanting to ask what she meant by “turning
into something else”, but I chose to be quiet instead.
I figured that the barrio folk might not just be prepared
for electrification because having electricity would change
their way of thinking. But Malipayon was bound for change,
though it would take years.
One time, my neighbor invited me for lunch.
She was obviously well-off compared to my other neighbors
because she could afford to use a generator almost everyday
to watch television. Apparently, the gauge of wealth in
the barrio was whether one could afford to accumulate appliances
and run them using a generator. The owner of a rice mill,
for instance, had a generator that lit up five additional
households. An entrepreneur who owned a batchoyan at the
market square owned a generator powerful enough to make
a jukebox transform her eatery into a karaoke bar. Finally,
there was the enterprising farmer whose betahan or makeshift
cinema would shake when moviegoers stomped their feet and
screamed in horror or cliffhanging scenes. In Malipayon,
the generator was not only a source of power, but a part
of barrio life.
Malipayon was not left behind when the
government engaged in an electrification project. Two years
after my volunteer year in 1991, a visit to Malipayon proved
to be a revelation. The high-tension wires that once reached
only the neighboring barrio finally crossed Malipayon’s
territory. Electric power became available not only to the
well-heeled but to majority of the barrio folk. Soon, everyone
changed their gas lamps to incandescent and fluorescent
lamps, and their transistor radios to portable sing-along
systems. The betahan’s avid customers dwindled because
most households preferred to have their own television sets
and VHS players. The nipa rooftops became dotted with antennae,
totally changing the once barren skyline. Even the usual
screaming of children running around and playing hide-and-seek
and the nocturnal sound of crickets chirping in the cornfields
were no longer heard because they were drowned by the sound
of stereo or television. Telenovelas might have done the
Malipayon folk a favor for it kept their children inside
their homes. The once roaring generators, symbols of wealth
and prestige, now quietly gathered dust. In less than two
years, electricity changed Barrio Malipayon. In a few more
years, in 1999, the remote barrio made its first cellular
phone call. These changes validated what my teacher-friend
said: electricity would turn Malipayon into “something
else”.
While these changes were obvious, my
succeeding visits led me to discover other changes that
were not easily discernible such as the barrio folk’s
renewed drive for self-sufficiency. I theorized that this
could be partly attributed to the JVP volunteers who stepped
into Malipayon and influenced the people; they challenged
the old structures that were no longer appropriate for the
changing times. The Malipayon volunteers were committed
to preserving the people’s good traits and practices
such as cooperation, and at the same time, preparing them
for changes they were bound to face like electrification
and new farming practices. It was the goal of the volunteers
to help the people not to feel threatened by the changes,
but instead to be challenged to learn more about them and
take advantage of their benefits. In the classroom, for
example, lessons on language and self-sufficiency were taught
by asking the students to read a set of instructions on
how to use a household appliance like a telephone. Students
learned how an appliance can be used to one’s advantage
and how it can be a mere tool of consumerism.
Self-sufficiency, foresight, and magis
(the Jesuit tradition of striving for excellence) were an
unwritten advocacy of the JVP volunteers in Malipayon. Despite
the impression that Malipayon was assured that JVP volunteers
would be sent there every year, the move towards self-sufficiency
had already broken ground in the early ‘80s and continued
to the ‘90s. JVPs influenced the students and farmers
to conquer their fears and embrace self-sufficiency, and
they, in turn, influenced the other Malipayon folk to do
the same. Through the initiative of former Malipayon volunteers
led by Tim Gabuna, and the efforts of the barrio folk of
Malipayon, a scholarship foundation and a farmer’s
cooperative were founded.
These developments led me to think that
Malipayon is no longer a 5th class JVP area. The succeeding
volunteers in Malipayon might not have had to deal with
the same fears the first batch of volunteers faced, but
this is another story and might even be debatable. But the
good news is that things appear to be rosy for Malipayon
because she did turn into something else.
| Jay, JVP Batch12-Malipayon/13-Iloilo,
is a psychologist. He is currently teaching psychology
and its disciplines at Miriam College. He is the founder
and coordinator of Eskwelahang Sikolohiya, a group of
educators and psychologists who teach psychology at
the New Bilibid prisons. He is married to AMA volunteer,
Isabel Bautista, and father to two-year old Lia. |
It was in school year 1999-2000 that
JVP sent its last batch of volunteers in Malipayon. Today,
former volunteers continue the task of helping the barrio
through its established foundation and its farmer’s
cooperative. Three students of former volunteers in Malipayon
have themselves joined JVP. The latest, Fivemay Reston,
is among the current volunteers of Batch 25. She is assigned
as a Program Assistant in Davao City and ARMM with the Philippine
Canada-Local Government Support Group.
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Trip Vol 01
Trip Vol 02
Trip Vol 03
Trip Vol 04
Josephine G. Maribojoc, Batch 13
Tina Pineda
Fr. Jose Ramon “Jett” T. Villarin, SJ
Nathaniel "Nikki" Hipolito
Jesus Enrique "Jay" G. Saplala
Sarah S. Balane
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