Siem Reap: Just Below the Surface

 It's Saturday!  And we are at the end of our second week of field research in Siem Reap.   It's been good to be back in the city and already have a little bit of orientation to where we are going and what we are doing.   Our work here, as I have mentioned before, is an exploratory study of boys and young men working in the "massage" industry.   For those of you who are unfamiliar, Siem Reap is a major tourist destination in Cambodia.  This is mainly due to its proximity to the  ancient Angkor Wat temples which spread out for miles just northeast of here.  The small city draws backpackers, adventurers and general-issue tourists from all over Europe, the US, Asia and the Pacific--something which has made this otherwise small, scenic city a kind of thriving commercial center in the middle of the Cambodian outback.  

The downtown area, which runs alongside of a small river, is jam-packed with bars, restaurants, night markets, and just about anything else that will make a buck.   One of the first things that you are likely to notice upon arrival in Siem Reap is the constant, diverse, and sometimes nagging presence of massage options.   They are literally everywhere.   Foot massage, back massage, hand massage, four-hand massage (whatever that means), and yes, even fish massage--for those of us who enjoy having our dead foot-skin harvested by a swarm of ravenous fish. 

The city is built upon foreign tourism and the money that comes from catering thrill-seekers from around the globe.  Needless to say, the sex industry is booming, and massage is oftentimes just another front for these kinds of services.   Although, "male for males" (M4M) services can be found everywhere, they are not always apparent at first glance.  This is partly due to the stigma and shame that is attached to men in the sensual/sexual services trade.   Still, there are a number of options that are openly advertised for LGBT tourists in the line of guesthouses, saunas, spas, and of course massage services.   

Our first week of fieldwork involved a great deal of walking, listening, and observation.  We conducted interviews in a few of the places that overtly advertised male massage services, listened to stories, asked questions and took notes.   Through this, we were able to talk to people involved in the industry and get a few clues of where else to find respondents.  Each contact and conversation was like another piece of a big puzzle that would eventually help us to better understand the situation and needs of the young men involved in this industry.  It was an informative week, and we were able to meet a number of insiders who helped orient us to the industry and social networks.

As I said, this first week involved a number of the solely male, overtly LGBT establishments.   For the most part, the data collection was easy.  We made phone calls, and appointments.  The interviews were conducted.  Data gathered.  Job done.  

However, as we are starting our fieldwork anew on this second visit, our task has been a bit more challenging.  We have been turning our focus to the less overt, mixed massage establishments which feature both male and female masseurs.  The social atmosphere in these places has been quite different.  There have been a number of places in which the air of unease has been almost palatable.  We are quickly realizing that we are having to spend more time building rapport and nurturing trust.  This takes time and requires a more immersive approach.   Its more difficult, but the process is entirely worth it. 

Immersion in the community here has been both insightful and humbling.  We've been able to spend a few evenings at a number of the local bars and restaurants.  We've caught a couple of shows at LGBT bars, usually running into a number of the guys that we have previously interviewed.  It's been a privilege to get to know them on a personal level, engage in conversation, and learn more about their lives and contexts in greater detail.  I have enjoyed their often vivid, exuberant, and yes, sometimes flamboyant personalities.  There is a beautiful resilience among these guys.  Many are vulnerable, many have been hurt, but they seem to have this strong camaraderie that is clearly visible in their identification with one another.  I suppose this is something that is very basically human:  We naturally mesh with the people with whom we can find acceptance, affirmation, and validation as being fully human--not a masseur, not gay, not straight or anything in between.  But simply and fully being recognized as an individual--a person of great value.  

There's so much beauty here.  So much goodness.  So much truth.  It just might not be clearly visible at first glance.   But as it usually goes: the best and most valuable things are not found on the surface level, but just below.   

Of course, there's much more to be said about this--good things, even holy things--particularly about beauty in brokenness, and finding God in places that you would least expect to find him.  

But those are thoughts for another post. 

Diving In -- Exploring Phnom Penh

As part of a deal with myself to not work on anything this weekend, I decided to explore Phnom Penh and, to the best of my ability, to do it on foot.   I spent hours upon hours walking and exploring the nooks and crannies of various markets and districts of Cambodia's capital city.  It was a chance for the nerdy ethnographer in me to come out and take some field-notes. 

Its refreshing to see that this part of world has been far less influenced by the rip-tide of western and international media and--apart from the odd prevalence of Angry Birds paraphernalia--the culture is  distinctive and brilliantly Southeast Asian.


I have genuinely loved walking past the grand and ornate Buddhist temples, seeing groups of monks pass at the market and to have the spicy fragrance of burning incense ever-present on the streets.  There is something that I love about Buddhist art and tradition.  It possesses this particular sense of ornate transcendence that is rich with philosophical meaning, and I absolutely love it.  Now, don't get me wrong--I'm not a Buddhist.  But, I see something beautiful in what sincere Buddhism tries to attain and how it harnesses this sense of unity, balance, and harmony that so epitomizes (in a very broad sense) Asian values and ideals.   

Yesterday, I was walking along the Mekong riverfront near the Royal Palace.   I sat for a while just behind a large shine and watched people, young and old, come and gather their incense, light it, and proceed into this small ornate structure to offer prayers and offerings to the spirits of their ancestors.  This particular ritual is something beautiful to watch.  It is done with such care an delicacy and seems to involve both parents, children, and even young couples equally.    Outside of the shrine were vendors carrying cages filled with small birds.  A number of people, upon leaving the shrine, would pay a small amount for a couple of birds.  Then, walking away from the shrine, they would release the birds into the air and watch them fly out over the river.  I'm not entirely sure if this is directly connected to what was happening inside of the shrine, but the process was nevertheless beautiful.  

Something else that I have greatly enjoyed is the thriving nightlife here in Phnom Penh.  Saturday evening, during one of my treks, I stumbled upon a night market, near the Royal Palace.   It was a great opportunity to grab some Southeast Asian "soul food"--if that's what you can call it.  At the center of the market were a number of woven mats ("banig", if you are filipino) laid end-to-end in a matrix of what seemed to be a two-dimensional restaurant of sorts.  Each mat had condiments, salt, chili pepper, and a variety of spicy, sweet, and sour pastes to choose from.  

"Pho Bo" - the Vietnamese version

For me, this was my opportunity to grab a bowl of something that I had been craving for quite some time--a Vietnamese soup called, "Pho Bo" (this was the Cambodian version, of course, but good enough for me).   I have developed somewhat of an addiction to this particular soup over the past couple years, and I was excited to discover that it is quite common in Cambodian cuisine.   The dish is essentially made up of rice noodles, bean sprouts, beef, basil, and a deliciously-rich beef broth topped with shameless amounts of cilantro (my favorite herb).


Something else that should be mentioned about evenings in Phnom Penh is how animated the riverbank and its nearby parks become as the sun starts to set.   Last night was particularly lively, as it was the night before the birthday of the Queen Mother of Cambodia (a large picture of her can be seen in the first image of this post, hanging on the front of the Royal Palace).    Standing near the Liberation Monument, I was surrounded by literally 360º of some sort of local game involving a small, hollow, woven ball that is kicked around in what seems to be a cross between soccer and hackie-sack.  Beyond that were groups of local Khmer men and women dancing--some to traditional music and others to hiphop.  In all honesty, I wanted to join--but let's face it--I had no idea of what was going on.  As I walked through the animated scene, I came across a hilarious lip-synced dancing-drama which involved what appeared to be a man declaring his un-dying love for a what seemed to be a woman(?) wearing a mustache (played by a man in drag).  


Words really don't do it justice--so I video'ed it: 

Exhausted, I started the long hour-and-a-half walk back to the Russian Market district where I am staying (I grabbed another bowl of Pho Bo on the way). 


Walking through Phnom Penh is surprisingly easy.  Compared to Manila, I would say that Phnom Penh is rather calm--and for those here in Cambodia who haven't lived in Manila, they are usually shocked to hear me use the word "calm" to describe the bustling chaos of Cambodia's capital city.   Although the traffic here is wild and usually unpredictable, transportation is simple, easily available, and usually involves hopping on the back of a public-use motorcycle or climbing in a tuk-tuk, which is a kind of motorcycle-driven pedicab that is common in this part of Southeast Asia.   For the Filipinos reading this post, I am sad to report that there are no jeepneys in Cambodia, no screaming or cackling horns and no barkers calling out for passengers--just group after group of hopeful pedicab drivers on every corner asking, "Tuk-tuk, sir?  Tuk-tuk?"  

And now a note about language.  Throughout this weekend's wanderings, I have been doing my best to pick up what I can of the language.   I am learning a little bit.  I can greet people, say thank you, and ask a (very) few basic questions.   Other than that, I don't understand a blessed thing--and without a keen and constant observation of non-verbals and vocal tones, I am usually completely and utterly lost.    I had somewhat hoped that Khmer (the national language) would have had some rough relation to Tagalog (the Philippine national language) so that I could at least have some kind of bridge for learning.  

No such luck. 

As it turns out, Khmer is a Sanskrit-derived language (the ancient, liturgical language of Buddhism, interestingly enough) as opposed to Tagalog, which is Malay-derived.  There is NO connection that I can see between the two languages, except for the fact that they both use sounds to make words which carry meaning.  --Blah.

Looking past my language issues, and the fact that VERY, VERY few people actually speak English (or Tagalog) here, I feel that my adjustments to Cambodia have been fairly effortless.  Looking back on my years in the Philippines, and the time that it took me to adjust there, its comforting to know that culture-shock is no longer a big challenge for me.   I remember that my initial culture-shock upon first moving to Southeast Asia five years ago took a number of months to work through.  And as it turned out, culture-shock was much less of a "shock" as it was a slow, creeping anxiety--like a kind of subconscious stress and frustration that I couldn't really put my finger on, but nevertheless was very real and, at times, very debilitating.   Those days are over, it seems, which puts me at ease and allows me to focus more readily on the tasks at hand.   

And with those thoughts, I think I'll save the rest for another post.  Tomorrow will be a big day.  In the morning, we leave for our first few days of fieldwork in Siem Reap.  Today has been a productive time of literature review and a very useful discussion with a long-time researcher and social worker here in Phnom Penh.  I'm looking forward to jumping in.  

More on this to come. 

Research in Cambodia? : a brief explanation

I am at the end of a very long, very full week of meetings and information-gathering for next week's initial fieldwork in Siem Reap.  For those of you who do not know, I am in Cambodia this summer working as a research intern with an organization called "Love146" which specializes in the prevention of human trafficking/sexual exploitation and providing aftercare for its victims.  The commercial sex industry is a thriving business in this corner of the world and much of it revolves around tourist hotspots and (naturally) the red light districts of Cambodia's urban centers.  My work this summer will be an exploratory study of the sexual exploitation of males working as masseurs in a number of these tourist destinations outside of Phnom Penh--namely Siem Reap.   

As I mentioned in my previous post, there is little-to-no research focusing specifically on men and boys in the commercial sex industry.  Most research has focused primarily on women and girls--often framing men as the predators and women and girls as the quintessential victims of exploitation.  However, men and boys are also victims.  One earlier study found that nearly 20% of Cambodian boys are sexually abused between the ages of 9 and 15--that's about 1 in 5.  However, in this climate of research, where men are solely predators and women are solely victims, it becomes very difficult for NGOs and other social service providers to take male issues seriously--thus, very few services exist to meet their needs.   This research is part of a big "first step" in uncovering a great blind-spot in our understanding of sexual exploitation.  

Next week we will begin with our preliminary fieldwork in Siem Reap.  The primary data for our research will come from one-on-one interviews with masseurs.  Some of these young men may work for legitimate spas and massage parlors, some will be prostitutes, and others may be somewhere in-between.  This first week of fieldwork will consist of four days of observation and information gathering from NGO workers in the area and impromptu conversations in a number of area restaurants and bars.   

Hopefully, this gives a bit of context to what I will be doing this summer.  I thought that it was important to dedicate a full post to a an explanation of my work, because I will--no doubt--be drawing reference to this subject in a number of posts to come, and I don't want anyone to be lost.  Hopefully, not everything that I write will be as heavy and academic as this post--I'll be posting some lighter things as well--but I thought it was important to give this brief explanation as a backdrop for my posts to come over the next few months.

A few pre-flight notes from the Philippines:

It was an absolutely amazing week-and-a-half in the Philippines.  And the strangest and most comforting thing was that it felt like I had never really left.  I have felt completely at home.  I was able to pick up the culture, language and--more importantly--relationships, right where I had left off.   More and more I am becoming grateful for the solidarity that I have in my Barkada both at home and abroad.   

In some ways, this has been a reassuring visit for me.  Last August, after leaving the Philippines and taking on my old job as a waiter and a substitute teacher, I had these irrational fears that--this would be it. I feared that I wouldn't find something else and I would eventually just settle into doing something for which I had no passion or calling.   Although, I still don't have a career--this summer is just an "internship"--my short visit back to the Philippines has been a much-needed reminder that everything is stil here.  There still more left to be done, and the story is not over.  

That... gave me a great deal of rest.  

I've stayed with a very close friend and colleague of mine, Glen Loyola (he's the one giving the "peace" sign to the left there).    Glen is one of a number of super-ultra-high-quality individuals at APNTS, with whom I am very close, who share with me this incredible, passionate belief in the dramatic potential of human beings--regardless of who they are, what they've done, or where they are from.  Socially active and insatiable thinkers, we never seem to tire of sharing thoughts and ideas, no matter how late into the night the conversation goes.  So many quality conversations have marked my progress through the last two weeks, this had been precisely the prelude that I have needed as I enter into my research over the next few months.   For this, I can be nothing but thankful.   

There are a number of thoughts and themes that have been circling through my head, over the past few weeks--subjects that Becca and I have discussed and debated, and a few things that have simply been hanging on my heart.   Many of these thoughts and themes have to do with personal transparency and community.   I feel that many of these thoughts have some very real connection to the issues that I will be researching this summer (Human Trafficking and Sexual Exploitation of Boys),  however, I still have to figure out how to best articulate what I have been thinking.  

As I write this very sentence, my flight for Malaysia is boarding in front of me.  There is much, much more to be said, but nowhere near enough time to write it all down before my flight leaves. 

This evening I will have a 12 hour layover in Kuala Lampur, Malaysia.  I am going to try to use the time to make it out ti the city and see a few sights.   I'll do my best to finish a few of these thoughts when I'm back on the ground.  

Mabuhay!

Prelude to a Next Chapter: Cambodia

Dr. Miles and a few of his PhD students at APNTS

About a year ago, while still in the Philippines, I met Dr. Glenn Miles.  Dr. Miles serves in Cambodia as the Director of Prevention and Research with an organization called Love146, which specializes in the prevention of human trafficking in Southeast Asia and provides aftercare for its victims. 


    I asked to meet with Dr. Miles for a couple of reasons.  On the surface, he was visiting campus to teach a course for our school's PhD program in Holistic Child Development and I was working on an article about the course and his work in Cambodia.  However, truth be told, I was really just personally intrigued by his field of research and passionate about the work of Love146.   


At the time, I had been working part-time with an anti-trafficking initiative at our school in a program called, "StepUP".   In this program, we worked with youth from at-risk communities providing them with employable computer skills, values education, and human trafficking advocacy.  While I was passionate about the work of StepUP, and felt that it was greatly rewarding, I wanted to understand more about the system of trafficking and exploitation in Southeast Asia and what essentially allowed for this multi-billion-dollar, anti-human, deplorable industry to operate so freely and seemingly unchecked in this part of the world.  

Dr. Miles was my connection to the front-lines of this battle.   We met for dinner and talked for a long while about the work of his organization and its single-minded focus of ending the plight of trafficked and sexually exploited children.  He detailed the role of research in this process and the great need of understanding the "whos", "hows" and "whys" of this dark context so that these issues can be addressed appropriately.  

In recent years, Dr. Miles' research has been focused on the sexual exploitation of boys in Cambodia.  It was a subject matter that had gone nearly untouched by most organizations around the world.  When we think of Sexual exploitation, our minds (and research, as it turns out) go solely to women and children.  The plight of boys, more often than not, is overlooked entirely.   We would like to think that the absence of research on this matter is due  to the fact that sexual exploitation/trafficking of boys is not as prevalent as with girls.  However, the more this subject is researched, the more this is found to be incredibly untrue. 

At the time, I had just finished a year of my own research focusing on identity development in a marginalized community just outside of Manila.  My research hadn't been specifically about trafficking issues, but it had raised a number of related and pressing questions that had fueled my interest in human development issues all the more. 

I look back on my dinner-meeting with Dr. Miles as a kind of defining moment for me.  This was the kind of research that I wanted to do.  It was like a great "ah-ha" moment in which all of the steps that had led me to THAT moment had seemed to have been guided or orchestrated by God to lead me right there to THAT part of the world, with THAT particular person at a time when I had just concluded THAT particular thesis research and had been processing THOSE particular thoughts.   In a moment, I had felt that I knew what I wanted to do with my career.  

Moments like these are truly gifts from God.  They provide clarity and insight and seem to re-enforce this beautiful thought that there are no random accidents, but that things happen for a reason.  It's a feeling of comfort and connection and nearness.   

Needless to say, it was a very meaningful dinner. 

Parting ways, I told Dr. Miles that I was greatly interested in his field of work and that I wanted to write and conduct research on human trafficking and development issues.   We decided to stay in touch, emailing now and then. 

As I've come back from the Philippines and begun the long, grueling process of applying for PhD Programs, Dr. Miles has offered a lot of encouragement as I've applied for schools and even helped me refine some of my application materials.   When I received my final letter of non-admission (aka: "rejection") from the final school,  I wrote him a quick note to update him on where I stood.   I told him that I had not been accepted but that I still would pursue this research in time.  The letter was positive--although, I felt utterly defeated. 

And then I received his response.

As it turned out, Dr Miles' research intern had backed out and he was in need of someone to help him conduct followup research for a paper to be submitted at a conference this fall in Nebraska.  It would involve flying to Cambodia and spending a few months collecting data and interviewing respondents in Seam Reap.   The position would be unpaid, but provide substantial experience and hopefully open some exciting doors in the future. 

After collecting myself from the floor and briefly dancing about like a little boy, I calmly wrote a response indicating my interest.  Within minutes of exchanging emails, I was quoting prices for airfare.  Days later, the tickets were reserved and my summer booked.   And as an added bonus--I found that flying to Manila is much cheaper than flying to Cambodia from the States.   So, in an effort to save the organization a good deal of money, I will be stopping in Manila for an extended layover to visit my Philippine "family" for a few days before continuing to Cambodia.  


For this, I am unreasonably excited.  :)   

The past month has felt like nothing short of a marathon.  I have been working non-stop, trying to "pad" my bank account so that I can cover my state-side bills while I am away.  I have been reading up on previous exploitation research in Southeast Asia and completing the endless laundry list of tasks to be done before leaving for the airport in just a few short days. 

The way I see it, this isn't yet the "next chapter", but maybe it is, at least, a kind of prelude to it.  I think of it as a kind of reminder that there is still more out there, there is more story to be told, and more plot to unfold.  


In the end, that's really what moves us forward, right?   The hint that there is something more, a next chapter, another adventure, some greater narrative that is bigger than the sum of its characters.   That is what the unfolding of this internship has been for me, to some extent.

There were a number of months after returning to the states that I struggled to see that greater narrative.   It was a frustrating and disorienting experience.   If anything I hope that I have learned that the "Place In-Between"---the seemingly empty space between the end of one chapter and the beginning of the next---is there for a reason.   It gives a much needed pause and allows the reader to gather his bearings, reflect on the past, and take a deep breath before diving back into the greater plot-line in progress.

This may not be the next chapter just yet but the knowledge that there is more to come--a prelude, of sorts--is just what was needed. 

That Place In-Between...

Today, I made a big change--a change that stands as a testament of my personal growth and emotional fortitude.  

Yes.  As of today--on Facebook--Jarrett Davis lives in Circleville, Ohio.  To most of you reading this, you will probably think I'm trying to be sarcastic or ironic making a statement like this; but I am quite serious.  This seemingly insignificant, digital change in my virtual life symbolizes a grand period (or at least a semi-colon) in the long and monotonous narrative between the turning of chapters in my life.  

Over the past few months,  I have transitioned from the busy life of a graduate student and communications officer in the Philippines to a substitute teacher hushing high school students in rural Ohio and working weekends as a waiter in Columbus.  Throughout this tumultuous transitional period of my Life,  I have learned a great deal about who I am as a person.   

I am one of those personality types that has the tendency to helplessly define himself on the basis of what he can-or-cannot do or accomplish.  Under this delusion, a person is only worth what they can produce and their value is directly proportional to the ground that they can cover towards a particular goal.   This mode of operation can have its advantages.  It can make you into the kind of person who gladly pulls an all-nighter to finish a project, or who works extra hours--without pay--just to ensure that something is done well and on time.  

However, it also has its downfalls:  

During my years of living, working, and studying in Asia I was constantly inundated with classes and projects and research--all of which aided to shape who I understood myself to be.   I was fulfilled because of all of the "hats" that I got to wear and the projects that I undertook.   There was great potential and much work to be done.  Step-UP, the anti-trafficking initiative of which I was a part, had the potential of taking great steps forward with our partners in India; there were numerous possibilities and projects outstanding in communications and marketing at APNTS.    However, in the midst of all of this, my student loans were coming due and personal finances growing scarce.   I had to return to the States in August of 2011.  It was difficult to leave the Philippines knowing that there was still work to be done and much of my identity rested in those efforts. 

Thus began, "the time in-between"-- my own personal purgatory of sorts -- to which I was banished to learn life's tedious lessons that I would have otherwise been oblivious to.

As soon as one chapter of my life ended and the next one failed to immediately begin, my impatience took over and drove me to frantically improvise new material.  Nearly before the suitcases were unpacked, I had begun studying for the GRE (Graduate Records Examination), writing statements of purpose and applying for PhD programs.   I began applying for careers, as well. I drafted and redrafted reams of cover letters, and polished and perfected my Resume  enough to make its readers weep.  

February came and I was still without a "real job".  I hadn't received any positive responses from any of the jobs that I had applied for--except for one research position in Nigeria.  I had made it through the final set of interviews, but in a toss-up between myself and the one remaining candidate for the position--I was the one just slightly less qualified.   "It's alright," I thought to myself.   I felt certain that something would work out with a PhD program.   I had a load of experience overseas, I was cum laude in my MA and BA programs, and didn't do to shabby on the GRE either.  Something was bound to work out. 

And then the letters came.  

One.  
Then another.  
Then the final one.   


Each letter carried the same disappointing message, stated in the same awkwardly optimistic tone.  My applications had not been accepted.  I had been back in the states for just slightly over 6 months and I felt that I had accomplished nothing.  


I dreaded that horrible and unrelenting question from others, "So, what are you doing now?"   Up until this point I had a story.  I had a vision in my mind--an exciting picture to paint.  I usually responded with something like: 

"Blah, blah, blah... applying for PhD programs... blah, blah... looking for graduate assistantships at OSU... blah, blah, blah"

And now... I didn't really have anything impressive or exciting to say at all.  In all honesty, I was spent.  Discouraged.  Frustrated.  I was left with nothing more than what was really there.   I really had nothing to say, except that: 

"I'm living with my parents, substitute teaching in Pickaway County and waiting tables on the weekends."  

That was perhaps the hardest pill to swallow.  


And so, after an entire gestation period of being in the states--nine long months--I have finally changed my Facebook status.   Jarrett Davis no longer lives in Taytay, Rizal.   Jarrett Davis is a waiter and a substitute teacher, living with his parents in rural Ohio.  


Don't get me wrong, I still cringed as I wrote those words.   I didn't enjoy typing them.  But I can type them, because I have accepted them to be true.   And I feel that--to some extent--I can never be ready to begin the next chapter until I can be present, here, in the place in between.   That annoying--but entirely necessary--place in-between. 


And with that, I begin the next chapter. 

"I'll Be Back"

Much has transpired in the seven months since my last post; I've changed continents, changed cultures, and starkly changed my day to day way of living.  There is so much to write about, but I can't write about what I am currently thinking until I bring this blog up to the present day.  So here is the first entry of a multi-part rundown of the past few months of my life.

Just before my flight at Ninoy Aquino 
International Airport in Manila

August 16th of last year, I boarded a plane in Manila bound for the United States.   I bid a tearful good-bye to a group of friends--and way of life--that had become as much a part of me as my left hand.  Throughout the weeks preceding this event, the words: "I'll be back" had become a kind of mantra for me.  It was not so much a statement of fact as it was a reassurance for myself, helping me to hold myself together while I undertook the tying-up loose ends both socially and with my work at APNTS.  There was far too much to be done; falling apart emotionally would certainly not aide the tasks at hand.   And so, I came to that final night when I left the Philippines.   Myself  and about 10 of my closest friends piled into a van and made our way to the airport.   The conversation in the van was exactly what is to be expected in Pinoy culture during times of heavy emotion:

Jokes.  Sarcasm. And side-splitting laughter. 

This is something that I have come to both love and be annoyed by--and something that I greatly miss.  In Filipino culture, more often than not, when the mood is too sullen for too long---people instinctively start cutting up.  As much as I wanted to wallow in the sadness of leaving, my friends would not allow it.   I made it through the car ride, the hugs, and the final goodbyes.  It wasn't until we parted and I stepped through the doors of the airport that the waterworks cut loose.   I tried to hide it, but the tears were no-doubt obvious--far too strong to pass off as a random flair-up of allergies; as much as I hated it, I was crying.  I dealt with my emotions by striking up conversations in the terminal with anyone who would have it, and savoring what few minutes I had left to use Tagalog--a language that would be all but useless once I arrived in the states.  

Mindlessly, I stood in lines and went through the motions of passing though security, checking my luggage and exchanging my colorful Philippine Pesos for the familiar monochromatic American greenbacks.  I boarded my flight and started the first of five flights eastward, each one carrying me a bit farther from the people and places that I couldn't seem to shake from my mind.  I was ever-mindful of my "I'll be back" mantra of the past few weeks. I knew I would be back.  But when?  And under what auspices?     

After some 15 hours of prayer and melancholic reflection over the Pacific, I landed in Texas with a fresh mind, excited about the few days to come.  I had done something on this trip that I had always wanted to do:

I had kept my return home a secret from my mom and brother.  

At the time, my family had been on vacation in Garden City Beach, South Carolina.   I had made arrangements with my sister, Leah, and planned to meet her at the airport in Myrtle Beach.  Leah had slipped away from our condo stating that she had needed some "alone time".   The entire ordeal of sneaking around and orchestrating an international transition across social networks and the globe without leaving clues on Facebook left me feeling a bit like James Bond or Jason Borne (at least, I liked to pretend that it was so).  And---apart from a small "farewell" left on my Facebook wall (thankfully, in Tagalog) the plot of secrecy had worked!   

We had it all worked out.  Leah picked me up and we drove to a small Ocean Front restaurant just a few doors down from where my family was staying.   We grabbed a table and my sister left to meet my family to come to dinner where I was patiently waiting.   A half an hour later, as my family walked down the beach to the Cafe, I headed down to the sand in front of the restaurant, acting as if I had been there all along and didn't know them.  Leah had tried to get Mom's attention by getting her to look at this guy on the beach that looked just like her son.  After a few awkward and confused glances, her face was priceless. 

Thankfully, Leah caught it on video:

My first three days in the states were spent at the beach with my family re-living old, archived memories of vacations past.   They were a great few days; and, as I remember them, almost surreal as my mind lagged to adjust to the dramatic the change in culture, timezone and the faces that surrounded me.  

I was back. 

It was great to be with my family and spend some much needed time catching up with them.  However, I was still unsure of what being back meant.   What now?  

"Where Do I Go from Here?"

Ah, Robert Frost...

For those of you who read my previous post, you will know that I am sitting at a kind of juncture-point in my life.   I have just finished a masters degree in Intercultural Communications in the Philippines.  My research is done, my thesis published, and my degree conferred.   However, I am still here in the Philippines.  I've used these past several months following my graduation to gain more practical experience and explore a field that is of particular interest to me, Human Development---particularly with the issues of human trafficking and exploitation.   While the time spent has been good and a great opportunity, I have recently had a strong and persistent feeling of release--as if I am being reassured that, its alright to start writing a new chapter.  I am realizing that my time here is quickly drawing to an end.

Looking back, I have lived a full and meaningful three years here.  I have made friends who have become my family--people who have both seen me at my best and at my worst, yet they are my friends all the same.   I've crossed cultural bridges which I, three-years ago, didn't even know existed.  On the same note, I have eaten foods that I, three years ago, did not even know were able to be eaten.  There are so many unique experiences that have shaped me in how I think and understand myself, and--not to sound dramatic, but--I know that I will never be the same. 

However, the question remains, "Where do I go from here?" 

I have certainly given the matter a good deal of thought.  I've given it incessant thought, as a matter of fact, but thinking does little good.   On my good days, thinking about it fills my with hope of opportunities and new adventures to come.   However, on my bad days, these thoughts fill me with this lacrimose and tiring feeling that maybe I missed a turn or two somewhere along the journey.  It is the feeling that I should have had a well-defined destination in mind from the beginning and the simultaneous sense of regret that I didn't. 

To tell you the truth, I honestly would love to work for USAID (United States Agency for International Development) in Human Development.  I want to work with the predators and victims of trafficking and sexual exploitation in Southeast Asia.  I would like to understand them, tell their stories, and then aid in the broader developmental struggle to holistically restore both groups.  

I believe a Master's Degree in Christian Communication has a beautiful place in all of this.  I just need to find out where to put it to use as I continue this riotous journey called life.  And so my question (and fervent prayer) remains, "Where do I go from here?" 

My Best Answer to an Ever-Difficult Question

So how have things been going lately in the life of Jarrett Davis?

This is a question that I feel obligated to answer, in one form or another, every time that I post an entry on this blog. But to be entirely honest, it's a question that I dread answering. I dread it because I don't entirely know how to answer, "how things are going".

I am presently giving about 70% of my work hours to be the Director of Communications for Asia Pacific Nazarene Theological Seminary on a volunteer basis. This is not something that I am particularly passionate about, however this short 5-6 month placement is giving me great practical experience in communications and doesn't look too bad on a resume either.

My real passion, however, lies in the 30% of work that I'm doing on the sidelines. I am working with a team of people to further develop an anti-human trafficking initiative called, "StepUP" which works to provide employable computer skills, values education, and trafficking advocacy to out-of-school youth from at-risk communities. This has been an on-going initiative of APNTS in partnership with several other large organizations in the Philippines.

We are hoping to expand this program in South India in July. India has been of particular interest to us in that it is ripe for this kind of work. The country has become notorious for various forms of trafficking and bonded labor. This is exciting work and I greatly hope to do more--especially in the area of research and advocacy.

This is a little of "what" I have been doing. "How" I have been doing is another story.

With my apologies to Dickens, it's the best of times, and it's the worst of times. And, just as it was with "A Tale of Two Cities," a preface like that, usually requires a novel's worth of pages to sort out. However, I will try to give you a two-part, bloggable summary.

PART I

"It's the best of times: meaningful interactions and definitive steps toward my call."

The past few months have been great. I have been immersed into the world that I am passionate about: Communication and Human Development. I have recently met Dr. Glenn Miles of Love146, a non-profit Organization that specializes in research and advocacy about Human Trafficking and Sexual Exploitation. We had the greatest conversation. It really "defined the field" into which I am moving and gave me a lasting motivation.

Dr. Miles' particular work is in the area of exploitation. He has spent a good deal of time, in the Red Light districts of urban centers in South-East Asia, trying to understand about how the economy and culture of human trafficking operates. This is vital work, in that it is not until we really understand "how's" and "why's" of these situations, that we can put a definitive end to the issue of trafficking and exploitation.

This is particularly true in the Philippines.

It is startling to know that, EACH YEAR, around the world, there are 1.2 Million children (below 18 years old) that are trafficked for sexual exploitation, labor, and other forms of abuse, more than 100,000 of these children are filipinos--remember, this is the number EACH YEAR--not in total. That means that 1 out of every 10 people trafficked are filipino.

Ending human trafficking and sexual exploitation is much more complicated than simply outlawing prostitution and jailing the pimps. It is a system, an economy of supply and demand that thrives on the abuse some of the most vulnerable members of society. This is where one's faith has a distinctive edge.

I am of the persuasion that community development is largely meaningless if it is not built upon the foundation of human development. That is, Community Development can clean up the brothels, build community centers, create new legislation, and even improve the poverty level, but if it the development has not been transformative to the human person, it will be short-lived.

My life has reached an equally exciting and pressing point of juncture. I am honored to have been a part of such experience and work in this part of the world. I am also thankful for the road that has lead me here. In the last few months, I have felt closer to my calling than ever before.

I also know that I can't be a volunteer forever. In fact, I can't be a volunteer past August of this year, when my second set of student loans go back into repayment. Although, I am excited for the work that is potentially before me, this road has some significant obstacles--many of which I am already facing.

Those, I leave for Part II of this blog entry.

A Short Letter from the Jungles of Cebu

I am writing to you all from deep within a jungle, somewhere outside of Cebu, Philippines. I'm here representing APNTS (Asia Pacific Nazarene Theological Seminary) for the Philippine Nazarene Youth Congress (PNYC) 2011. We're at a place called "Hidden Paradise," and it is very well hidden. It took about an hour on a bus from Cebu to reach the foot of the mountain and another 45 minutes to drive the long and winding mountain roads that eventually brought us to the resort. The place is beautiful enough that you almost don't miss the internet and cellular service. There is one satellite internet connection (presently not functioning) which can be used for a mere 20 pesos an hour. They tell me it will be fixed in a few hours… but that's what they told me yesterday as well.

The event has brought about 400 youth from all around the Philippines and Micronesia. It's been great to see familiar faces from around the Philippines. I'm bunking with some Dabawenyo friends if mine from the East Mindanao district. They usually use English with me in one-on-one conversation, but everything else is in deep, Davao-style, Bisaya (a common dialect in Mandanao). I understand Tagalog (the national language) but it doesn't do much good here. English and Tagalog occasionally garnish their conversation, in which case, I am able to have a very brief window of understanding where I get to determine the basic topic of conversation. Other than that, I'm usually in the dark about most of what they are saying (however, I'm quite fluent in non-verbals). Hopefully, I will be able to brush up on my Bisaya before heading back to Tagalog-speaking Manila this Saturday.

The week has been a wonderful time of reflection and connection with friends from around the Philippines. I have been encouraged to talk with so many people that share my same interests and passions in ministry and social action. I'm very excited to work with some of these dynamic leaders in the future. My conversations this week have started my mind turning and thinking about new and creative ways to live out one's faith and theology in a world and church that is need of new and renewed hope. I don't know what the next few years may bring but I hope that these people can somehow be a part of it.

(more pictures to come...)

"The Art of Bridge Building": Redefining Seminary

As a disclaimer, the following was written by me, but its not really an official blog-post.

I really wanted to blog something today, but there are still so many other things for me to write. I just couldn't justify taking the time to satisfy my blogging appetites. Instead, I decided to post an article that I wrote yesterday for a newspaper column. It gives a good picture of some of the work that I am doing here in Manila for APNTS.

By Jarrett Davis
APNTS Communications Officer

What comes to mind when you think of “Seminary”? Pristine brick edifices? Arched church ceilings? Monks and Priests behind high walls? Asia-Pacific Nazarene Theological Seminary (APNTS) believes that a Seminary should be more about bridging divides, than building walls. Its founding motto is, “Bridging Cultures for Christ.” Through this key drive, the school has committed itself to developing leaders from its surrounding communities.

StepUP

Human Trafficking is perhaps one of the greatest and darkest challenges of today's society. It is an inhumane business that nets a global profit of nearly 32 Billion US Dollars. As a part of the fight against this terrible crime, APNTS has partnered with the Visayan Forum Foundation as well as Microsoft Philippines, to offer the StepUP Program. This program offers employable computer and life skills to out-of-school youth from at-risk communities.

APNTS utilizes what they call the "Multiplier Effect", which is the idea of training trainers from the local communities that are able to, in turn, train others. This method had greatly aided in the programs ability to spread in a grass roots fashion. Dr. Robert Donahue is professor of Missions and Urban Ministry and Director of Donald Owens School of World Mission. He has directed the "StepUP" program since its inception 2 years ago, and reports that nearly 600 trainers and youth have been trained in the program over the past two years, and nearly 150 have been trained to train others and establish community centers.

The stepUP program brought a new awareness of the communities surrounding the APNTS. Many participants in the program came from socially and/or economically underprivileged areas and were delayed in their educations. Although, the StepUP program was able to give them employable skills, it was not able to help them finish a basic education. Something else was needed.

Alternative Learning System

In response the greater educational needs of its surrounding community members, APNTS partnered with the Philippine Department of Education (DepEd) to establish the Alternative Learning System (ALS) on their campus. ALS is designed for filipnios who have not gone through formal schooling. The program, funded by a grant from Overseas Council International, helps academically delayed students to meet requirements for graduation, employment, and even higher education.

Dr. Nativity Petallar is the Director of the Holistic Child Development Program at APNTS and coordinates the ALS program at the school. Dr. Petallar is able to work alongside of her Masters and PhD students to help them not only teach and minister to the children and youth, but to help them to become advocates of the children and young adults in their contexts. She comments that most NGO's focus on social and economic development a people groups, however, the approach of APNTS the approach of APNTS adds another special concentration on the spiritual development of children.


The students of this program come from a diversity of backgrounds. Some are coming out of Human trafficking situations and receive rehabilitation from the School's partnering agencies. Other groups are vulnerable to drugs and other social equally significant social problems. The HDC students of APNTS strive to work in this context to bring a holistic kind of development these young people.

Why a Seminary?

While the common image of Seminaries may be their walls and edifices, APNTS hopes that its image will be of the bridges that it is able to build. APNTS president Floyd Cunningham says, "Seminary education must not only convey knowledge, build competency, and shape character, but direct attention to our immediate context of ministry. ...We must think outside the walls and reach beyond whatever seals off the church, by bridging the walls that separate us from the people among whom we live."

APNTS continues to expand its advocacy in these areas through the integration of trafficking and migration issues into its curriculum, and by encouraging its students and ministry partners to support such community-based initiatives. The school is excited to be an integral part of the lives of the people it serves, however it recognizes that it would be unable to do what it does without the generous participation and support from its partnering organizations.

A Significant Gathering:

Yesterday, I had the privilege of attending the “Commitment Day Against Trafficking in Persons." The event drew a host of significant political and civic figures from the Philippines and partnering nations as well as humanitarian, religious and academic groups to reaffirm and celebrate their commitment to end Human Trafficking and Exploitation of persons in the Philippines. Everything about this gathering excited me. It excited me not only because I care deeply about the fight against human trafficking and exploitation, but also because there were few people at this gathering whose job I did not want. Namely, the jobs of the Ambassador of the United States to the Philippines and absolutely ANYONE from the US Agency for International Development.

I was there in behalf of APNTS and in support of the school and Nazarene Compassionate Ministries which have both played some big roles in programs for trafficking awareness and prevention. While there, Dr Donahue gave the school's official pledge to aid in empowering vulnerable communities through alternative learning, values formation and vocational, life skills and computer training.

I truly enjoyed to see the great amount multi-sector collaboration that had gone into this event. Religious Groups, Academic Instituions, the Department of Justice, and even MTV. The crowd was incredibly diverse, but incredibly unified in their passion and support for the work against trafficking and exploitation.

It was fascinating to see how each group played it's own unique role. I remember one group, called "HapPinoy", who teaches with rural Sari-Sari Store* owners in Philippine villages about the dynamics of Human Trafficking. Why Sari-Sari store owners, you ask? Because, anyone who has ever lived in a filipino community knows that the local Sari-Sari Store is the hub for all of the community's gossip. Seriously, if you need to know anything about ANYONE, at all, at any time, ever, in a filipino community, just ask the local Sari-Sari store owner. They are the eyes and ears of every barangay. HapPinoy works to teach these shopkeepers about the system of trafficking and what signs to look for. Its an immediate grassroots, community of informants, operating in the rural, hard-to-reach places, where eyes and ears are needed most.

This was an encouraging day. It gave me new ideas, questions and made me want to do much more in this line of work.

That brings me to tomorrow. I will be going to Antipolo to the "Center of Hope" to talk with the director of a center that deals with girls that have been rescued from trafficking and exploitation.

(* A Sari-Sari Store is like a Small, rugged convenient store--sometimes even a stand--which is found on nearly every street corner in the Philippines.)

A Brief Update:

Greetings, readers of this blog!

I have made it back to the Philippine Islands safe and unharmed. (Also, on an unrelated side note, I have not been killed by a giant Tsunami, nor have I perished in a gaping crater opened up by an violent earthquake. After receiving a few long-distance phone calls, I realize that this might be something that I should say. ) My journey back was long, stressful, and deserving of an entire blog post (maybe two) in its honor. However, that story will take some time to tell, and time is something that has been running scarce. So, that story, along with its pictures, is still to come.

As many of you may already know, I have returned to the Philippines to serve temporarily as the Communications Officer for APNTS (Asia-Pacific Nazarene Theological Seminary). My goal is essentially to get people talking and connected: person to person, department to department, committee to committee, and then APNTS to the Globe. A large focus (and my personal interest) will be with an initiative against Human Trafficking and Exploitation called "StepUP". This is a large partnership between APNTS, Visayan Forum, NCM, and a few other NGO/Humanitarian groups. I hope to become well acquainted with this kind of work and eventually do my Dissertation in the community/human development and the integration of such programs. That is another story that is yet to be told.

In the meantime, my life has been consumed with papers and final revisions to my thesis before it goes for publishing. I have felt terrible for, once again, allowing this blog to gather dust while my life galavants onward--stories untold, and thoughts unrecorded. So... to stave off the encroaching feelings of guilt and soothe the inklings journalistic negligence, I thought I would jot you all a quick note to say that all is well. And it is.

Until next post,

Jarrett

(** The picture above is from "American Culture Day". I made it back to the Philippines just in time to join. At APNTS every cultural group has their own day in which they share a little about their culture and provide some "cultural food". This year, we made Peanut Butter and Jelly.)

"If It Ain't Broke..."

This morning began in disappointment. I woke up thinking that I had a job as a substitute at Teays Valley High School. In my rush to get to arrive at my assignment on time, I neglected to pay attention to the date and time of my assignment. I found that I had actually made it to the school early--an entire day early. "There goes a good 70 dollars down the drain," I thought to myself. To make matters worse, I had turned down two other teaching assignments for today thinking that I already had an assignment.

Frustrated and disappointed, I headed home. As I made my way down State route 23, I was inspired by a simple sign. It read, "Diner" and featured a crude arrow pointing to the rear annex of a highway gas station. Before even considering to stop, my decision was made. I turned the car around and arrived at "the Fork and Spoon Diner" for Breakfast.

I’ve learned that diners, much like barber shops and hardware stores, are epicenters of rural culture. They are indigenous hubs for the exchange of the stories, thoughts, and ideas of whatever local community that they are a part. If there is anything that you want (or don't want) to know about a certain place, you'll most likely hear it over bacon and eggs at a place like this--and I do mean anything. Not to mention, their waitresses are priceless!

The other day I visited "The Fork and Spoon" cafe, and it was certainly no disappointment. I mean, how could it be a disappointment? It was very clearly printed on the restaurant’s doors and menus that, this place--- was the "best forking place in town." A true place of class, I'd say. I mean, who could argue with a statement like that?

I walked right in, entering into an empty diner.  For a moment, I wondered if the place was even open. The walls were boldly painted and decorated with a vague mexican theme. Across the room hung a giant fork and spoon which bordered a large plate-shaped chalkboard announcing that on Fridays, $8.99 would get you all the fried fish you can eat with fries and cole slaw. Beside that was the "Wall of Flame"--two shelves loaded with a enough hot sauce to euthanize a hippo.

I walked up to the counter and immediately a hearty-looking, woman of middle age, burst through the pivoting kitchen doors calling, "You jus go 'head and have a seat, honey."  She was a brawny woman, wearing an open flannel shirt and a baseball cap. She had a tough, straight-forward personality, and looked like she could hold her ground in a fist-fight. She was a hoot and a half, plus two thirds of another hoot.  She came to take my order and spoke with each other in short clips:

"Start with coffee?"

"Sure."

"Cream?"

"No thanks."

"Getcha some water?"

"Sounds good"

"what'll ya have, hun?"

"A la carte: eggs, bacon, and home fries.

"Right back, hun."

She had that characteristic truck-stop waitress finesse: tough, quick, with a rough and tumble, tell-it-like-it-is attitude. She seemed to know the life stories of nearly all of "the regulars" who come in to eat there. She prides herself in givin' the boys big, hearty portions of home-cooked food. She knows just what they like. That's why she's had to teach the new managers a thing or two about the gravy. "I told her there just wasn't enough flour in the roux; wasn't anything like what we had before." she explained. "You know they tried to put hot sauce in the gravy--no one around here's gonna eat that." Before long, I knew the entire history of "The Fork and Spoon Diner", formerly known as "The Hot Spot", formerly known as "The Iron Horse Cafe," but unanimously known to the locals as the "Whompler truck stop".

Apparently the new management had come in to the place with the idea of "cleaning it up" and giving it a few modern twists. They added a couple LCD TV Screens, brought in the new "Texican" (my word for it) theme, changed the menu, and even put the place on Facebook. What they didn't realize is that they had introduced two things that most of their local clientele were not comfortable with: change and "foreign stuff".

"This place used to be packed," she explained. "I'd spend 8 hours back there just trying to keep up with the dishes." But this morning it was just her. She was the cook, dishwasher, cashier, waitress and entertainer. We talked for some time, she behind her counter, and I on the other side of the dining room. She gave me a real ear-full how NOT to improve a Truck Stop Diner. "A lot of these guys that come in here they say that I'm the only reason they come in... and I do my best to give 'em a generous helping of good food," she said. I realized something very important this morning. Diners are not restaurants. They are deeply interwoven into the fabric of their surrounding culture, and the facilities and food are really so important. Diners seem to be a kind of outgrowth of the people of a community. Like I said, if you want to know anything about a place, find it's local diner.

Earning a special place in my heart, "The Fork and Spoon Cafe" delivered a "forking good time," just at they had promised.

What is the moral of the story, you ask?

"When it comes to small town america (especially Circleville), the old saying, 'If it ain't broke, don't fix it,' always rings true."