Category Archives: Tylie

Blog #8

3/5/15

We’ve begun March and in many ways Mindanao seems to be worlds away. It’s easy to fall into the stress of school, work, family, friends and succumb to the drama that can dull our once vivid memories and recollection of our time in Mindanao. MIIS students find a certain prestige in traveling, whether it be for leisure, work, or in our case, academia. Yet, after such an incredibly powerful trip – after months of brain freeze when it comes to my ability to think back on Mindanao – I’m stuck wondering what makes travel meaningful at all …

Since out return, Professor Iyer has made it a priority to give us the space and time to self-reflect, meet in a group and meet with her to process. We’ve got important deliverables to carry out in the next couple of weeks and we’ve also got a responsibility to those we met on an island far South of Manila.

I know our long meetings, smaller discussions and private reflection are crucial to making this trip meaningful as I’ve learned in my coursework. This is true for intercultural competence and personal growth and for real learning to occur. I know this as an international education management and TESOL student – I know this in theory – but being back for two months now (which sometimes feels like 8) I’m surprised how difficult it is to put my money where my mouth is (as it were).

Since returning at the end of the semester I have been asked by friends, teachers and classmates, “How was your trip” – and I’ve hesitated. Are they asking because they want to know? Are they asking in a perfunctory way? How do I answer honestly in a mere sound bite? Do I say, “great” and move on? Do I offer up a particularly juicy anecdote that highlights a more dramatic and deemed “interesting” moment in the trip? And if so, to what end? To shock? To make an impression?

Do I sit them down and explain the details, challenges, amazing moments, heartbreak, policy in theory and practice on the ground, the surprises, the self-reflection process, and so on and so forth? That could take hours, and bottom line: maybe I don’t fully understand, and maybe that’s why no one cares.

I’ve found it challenging to reflect. And not because I haven’t had allotted time to do so. I keep coming back to snapshots in my head, sketched portraits of the people we met. Thoughts on what they are doing. Feelings of guilt that I haven’t done enough to justify my long flight over to Mindanao. Feelings of frustration that I am unable to quell – what shall I do with all of my notes from out countless meetings? What can I do with these etched faces in my head?

I think the first step is to accept that I feel lost and at time impotent. I am thankful for the meetings I have with the other members of the Mindanao team. We’ve got some powerful and talented individuals, led by a powerful and talented professor who guides us along the way. So, without further ado, I’ll prep for the meeting that we’ve got – collaborate with my peers on awesome and inspiring ideas concerning Peace Education… and start actively combatting this brain freeze with this cathartic (albeat disjointed) blog post.

Speaking to the local pre-school teacher. (Photo Credit: Maritza Munzon)

Blog Entry #7

1/22/14

We’ve all dispersed to the four corners of Monterey (by way of very long flights spanning the globe), or at least we’re all currently in transit. I’ve stopped in Cebu for the night. Reverse culture is a problem, I would say, of the privileged and those that have the ability to leave and travel as easily as MIIS students do. Oddly enough, my culture shock began before I left the Philippines.

Cebu city is an entirely different world and although we’re an hour flight from Mindanao – of the handful of people I’ve spoken to while here, three are from Mindanao. Often times, when I get very excited to hear there from Mindanao – they’re confused as to why I went there in the first place. “Are you a journalist?” They ask. More often than not I’m vague in that response… students… interviews… community meetings…

Peace petals, a part of a school’s peace education curriculum.

Sunset over Cotabato City

Most left Mindanao in the early 90s and haven’t been back in sometime and whenever I ask them more about their thoughts on the insecurity or the BBL, I don’t elicit much of a reaction. I wonder if its because I’m a foreigner asking prying questions or because even Mindanao transplants aren’t fully aware of the goings-on of the BBL and other Mindanao news. I have a small sample size, I will fully recognize that.

The man that drove me to the airport was my most favorite conversation and I found myself back into the groove of asking him open questions in order to understand more of his life. He’s originally from Cagayan de Oro so I told him that we were also there and visited a community in the hills, “Wow” he responded “Didn’t you feel unsafe? The NPA are in that community”. I didn’t know exactly what to say. I continued to ask him questions: he didn’t know much about the BBL, but his father was a news anchor in Cagayan and had received many threats from politicians and other groups over the year. He had been in Cebu since 1993, beforehand he even tried his luck auditioning in Manila to travel to Japan and be a magician and entertainer. I asked him how he learned magic and he say “oh, my friend taught me”.

These details seem stupid and I know I’m asking these questions, trying to uncover something elusive, because that’s the most we’ve all been in during the past two weeks. I also think I’m trying very hard to grasp on to my last interactions here. Trying to maintain a connection with the Philippines, to etch it into my brain before I fly very far away. I’ve been here almost a month, but the impact of this trip will extend very far into the future.

What do you think of Cebu? I asked. “It has a lot more opportunities” he replied, “tourism, call centers. If you stay in Mindanao you have a much simpler life. And that’s good if you want a simple life.” I said goodbye to him at the airport, thanked him for his stories and headed into security. Trying not to romanticize, I felt it was apt to have him be the last story I hear. It’s a midway point from those we met in Mindanao to the people we’ll speak with about the Mindanao situation, violence and peace-building challenges back in Monterey. Now, it’s on to my 24 hour flight.

Blog #6
1/15/15

Today was an extremely full day. It’s also Corinne’s birthday! Happy 25th Corinne, today for her birthday we got to meet some heavy hitters in the peace community. We spoke to people that were present throughout the peace negotiations from the 1970’s about their stories and their insight into the continuing stages of the BBL. It’s hit home everyday that the BBL is an extremely important piece of legislation that, whether passed or not, will shape Mindanao’s socio-economic, cultural, and religious future. It’s getting harder and harder to write this blog, not for lack of material – but thanks to days like this (and that’s a good thing). From 8:30am-6:30pm we meet so many people, our late night debriefs with the entire team are extensive and yet barely scratch the surface. I’m excited about what we’re doing, I’m inspired by my classmates and professors in meetings and I’m out of my comfort zone in the best way possible (I’d even say I’m sleep deprived and don’t mind a bit).

The beauty of the Philippines

Bearing this in mind, I won’t talk about all the particular groups we met today. Instead I want to very briefly write about the last meeting. We met a very lovely woman that works with an international NGO here in Mindanao. She was articulate, very informed, very experienced and presented us with the bigger picture of the impact that the conflict here has had on children. It wasn’t merely the content of the facts that she laid out for us – but how it fit in with the greater picture of our trip. Going from meeting to meeting, community to community, I’ve begun to zoom in on the details of an individual’s experience, what the meaning behind a certain man or woman’s answer to a question about their experience with peace education may mean on a broader scale. This trip is so rich with knowledge and experience that, honestly, I had started to focus in on the details – the details that lead you to the broader picture that these international organizations maintain. And, don’t get me wrong, this isn’t a bad thing – people are the ones who suffer from violence, killings, poverty, hunger, so on and so forth. And in the past 10 days that’s exactly who we have been talking to – real people in a real context.

Maybe it’s because I’m new to all of this type of data collection or maybe it’s because I’ve been swept up in the newness of Mindanao in general – but this widening of the lens that came at the end of the day really hit me. Only 25% of children complete basic education (that’s primary school) in Mindanao – that’s well below the average of the Philippines of approximately 70%. I could have looked this statistic up online in about 20 seconds prior to the trip. I’m torn on whether or not I should have. Of course, I knew that poverty was an issue in Mindanao and with poverty comes great issues of access, equity and completion rates of schooling across the board. On the one hand, had I been armed with a specific number, rates of completion, etc. and so forth – would my approach as a researcher have changed at all? Might I have made assumptions I shouldn’t necessarily make when meeting with young school children or indigenous college students? Yet, on the other – what if this type of overarching statistical information could have allowed me to make even more specific and targeted questions. Yet then again, the people we’ve spoken to that have given me the most insight into what’s going on here in terms of how conflict and education interact would balk if I threw out some number at them because it’s a completely detached way of looking at this (in my position).

It’s detached – but it’s crucial. The work local and international organizations do here is important and their data collection is fundamental. The work we’re doing here is also as important, but the reasons, framing, motivation and time frame for which we are here is entirely different. Again, I could go on and on about linking statistics to individuals – my role here… comparative education… challenges for children in poverty… coupled with intermittent violence… lack of attention Mindanao receives from donors, the central government, myself before I arrived and began asking so many people for their opinion on their daily struggles.

But I won’t have answer today – nor coherent thoughts for that matter. Perhaps tomorrow, though it’s unlikely! I know one this for sure, as the next semester approaches I’m excited to continue researching and working on this ongoing project and put all of this information to meaningful use.

Blog Entry #5
1/14/15

It’s official. We’re halfway through the course and I don’t want it to end. I realize that this is common, we’re in the honeymoon period of a time abroad. 7 days in, we’ve met so many people, we’ve spoken and shared and cried numerous times. We’re straddled between comfort and that shiny new relationship feeling that has us buzzing. Yet, I haven’t yet written about my time before coming to Mindanao. The Philippines, as I have come to realize, is a vast and diverse place.

Maritza and I visited a fellow MIIS peace corps volunteer, Lindsay, to ring in the New Year in Cebu, the second biggest city in the Philippines and the biggest within the Visayas. I arrived after two days of travel (24 hours plus the time change means I lost a day!). I arrive, bemused and with a 40 pound bag of presents for Lindsay who has been assigned to a volunteer position with the local government unit in a rural area of the Visayas. I had stuffed pickles, beef jerky, nice scotch, US magazines, new dresses, energy bars and make-up into a tiny bag – hoping to surprise a volunteer who lives on very little and often doesn’t get those creature comforts we’re all used to. Jet-lagged and bleary eyed, I hauled my awkwardly packed bags through customs hoping not to be stopped by a customs official. Walking out of customs was overwhelming and the few couple of days in the Philippines were laced with comparisons and a bit of culture shock. But when heading to Mindanao – I went through a mini culture shock flying from island to island. When comparing it to the commercialized Cebu center, bustling Cebu port or beautiful coral beaches – it is just night and day. Cebu was overwhelming, at times I wondered if I had ever left the USA. Here – it’s green, lush, with rice paddies and I’m not heading to a mall so the peace corps volunteers can stock up on essentials prior to returning to site. Don’t get me wrong, I could do that too in Mindanao there are malls and shopping etc. – but the experience here is entirely different. I mean, the natural beauty alone of this island (natural beauty threatened by industrial development of mining and palm oil deforestation) is unique and tourists

The last meeting of the day in Davao.

I knew absolutely nothing about the Philippines and except for a glimpse into the education system and the conflict in Mindanao, I still have a lot to learn. And that’s how I usually do things before heading to an entirely different country – I almost purposely put on a mental block. I do minimal research on what to expect – I did this before moving to Spain for a year, I did this before heading to Scotland for undergrad and (you think I would have learned) I did this prior to my move and subsequent 3 years in Uruguay. That’s why, during pre-trip preparation weekends, I really appreciated Pushpa’s take on our preparedness for Mindanao and the Philippine in general. Don’t get me wrong, those weekend were pretty packed with information, tips, things to know, and on an on. Yet she assured us that when we got on the ground, the plethora of acronyms, names would all just make sense. I didn’t realize how comforting this was to me at the time, especially as we were in the throes of finals. I’m not sure where I’m going with all of this – except for the realization that I knew nothing before I came here and now have such an empathy, perceived connection and knowledge of the goings-on in Mindanao – that I can’t believe we’re halfway through.

Blog Entry #4
1/11/15

There are a million and one languages spoken in the Philippines. Well, no, that’s not true. There are actually more than 10 indigenous languages (plus tagalog) spoken throughout these islands. [Warning: Nerd-alert coming next from a very amateur linguist and international education enthusiast]

So why does it matter that from one barangay (community) to another might speak an different tongue? Sure, most people that speak Tagalog will understand those that speak Cebuano (A language spoken in the Visayas) – but the languages spoken by the indigenous communities (referred to as IP in Mindanao) are, as a local leader said to us yesterday after hearing a prayer from the Manobo tribe, it was “all greek” to him.

So, when you go from one end of this island to another and then from island to island there is incredible linguistic diversity. The Philippines doesn’t deal with one language of instruction, nor with two

A community gathers around a legendary peace builder.

– it deals with a whole heck of a lot! And with a fairly centralized education system – speaking with teachers, principals and community leaders alike – the Department of Education rules supreme. Follow their directive or receive sanctions. And often times executive orders are passed down from Manila, but lack of staff, funding and clear implementation strategies make these mandates merely symbolic in nature (Wait for it, I’ll get to that later).

I came to the Philippines to see how multiplicity of language might play a role in the conflict here. And that said, it is certainly not on the forefront of the people that suffered war after displacement after all out war again. But time and time again, I ask – what language do your students learn? What language do you want your students to learn?

This is just the beginning of what I’ve found out. The Philippines Department of Education recently installed mother tongue based education (MTBE) for the first three years of primary school education. Then the students transfer to studying in Tagalog as well as English (ESL content based education).

But, wait! There’s now a new education reform coming down the pipeline. Currently, the Philippine school system goes until grade 10. Then a student can choose to go to a 2 year preparatory bachillerato-type of vocational or academic institute. Then the student will attend university or enter into the workforce – so essentially a kid can finish schooling at the age of 16 if they want. Now the Department of Education is reforming the entire system – making a K-12 system. The last two years of secondary education will force students to choose between four options: 1) academics (medicine, science, literature), physical education, vocational (think welding or mechanic) or culinary skills. So, at the age of 16 a kid will decide their career path – this type of restrictive tracking isn’t so different from many other countries like Germany or even the USA (in certain school districts or magnat school programs). I garnered all of this information from the OECD publications as well as from a local lawmaker in a small community in Central Mindanao who had also been a school teacher for 15 years.

Why does this matter? Yeah, maybe it only matters to the education nerds out there and most readers will have drifted off – but government mandates and subsequent education systems and how they are structured are what encourage or eliminate equity and access to quality education for all citizens (especially the most vulnerable). So, the language a student learns in their first three years of education is important! Many people have told us that sometimes the teacher isn’t well-versed in the mother-tongue of far-flung areas as they aren’t locals and commute to more remote villages – this impacts a student’s ability to learn. And what about the text books and materials, are they all in that specific language? What if certain students speak a different language in the home than the language of instruction?

Many others have told us that although the government might mandate certain changes or reforms, they are unable to put their money where there mouth is. That is to say, the lawmaker I spoke to confided in me that the newly created K-12 system requires funding, new facilities, new teachers (well-versed in the new subjects) and the national government (Manila) may not provide the financial and structural support needed to implement these changes.

The language a child learns in early education is crucial – it affects literacy and fundamental critical thinking and comprehension skills. The final years of a student’s formal schooling is equally as important. The fact that the education system is so centralized implies uniformity, but also means that swift implementation is a fantasy. And who is to blame? Certainly not the teachers that I’ve met who can have up to 50 or 60 students in an elementary school classroom at a time.

This is where I’ll stop for the day. Education and how it plays out on the national scale is a vital component to understanding Mindanao and how it plays a role in the conflict (both visible and invisible) here. I’ve barely scratched the surface in this post as well as in my questions concerning the education sector. The most appropriate ending to this blog is, to be continued…

Blog Entry #3
1/9/15

The longer we are here, the more I learn – and more and more I realize I know nothing at all. Is that a saying? If it is, it is certainly more eloquently put than how I just said it. What are we doing in Mindanao? Well, day to day, we head into meetings with stakeholders and get a very brief glimpse into their work, life, point of view, biases and prejudices.

I’ve never done field work. I’ve never conducted group interviews like this. We’re a big group, a group of 13 students, plus our professor and our local contact, James. We’re a pretty big crew and I can tell by the faces of our new acquaintances that this is a big… intimidating, off-putting or even just plainly, strange. Some meetings have been extremely rewarding – the people we meet have been candid (after a couple of warm-up questions) and we’ve been on our game in terms of asking questions as a group, coherently, with passion and interest. For example, our meeting with AFRIM, Alternative Forum for Research in Mindanao – was an amazing experience. We were able to pick the brains of some seriously smart and well-spoke

The entrance to a peace zone in central Mindanao.

n women about their curriculum design work with peace education and mining practices (the challenges to documenting environmental and health issues).

Some other meetings have not have gone as we had hoped, probably because our expectations set our selves up for “failure”. Perhaps due to our beginning days as very green researchers (honestly? I haven’t quite bought into the idea that I can consider myself that – I’m more of a well-spoken questioner with little trepidation) or perhaps due to the reticence of certain informants in certain meetings.  At times gender roles can get in the way, our presence as foreign strangers doesn’t lend itself to immediate trust and we don’t get a candid response. It should be recognized, however, no matter how frustrating an interview session goes – and the individual or group skirts around an issue – this information (or lack thereof) is incredibly valuable.

This brings me to a feeling – a feeling that there is so much under the surface here. I vacillate between hope and paranoia – mistrust and warmth. There is a pervading sense that people aren’t what they seem. And why should they be? We’re here for 2 weeks collecting stories and data. Who are we to be trusted? Dr. Iyer is so experienced in being in these types of conflict areas and alluded to these types of feelings when on the ground. I certainly don’t mean to be negative, on the contrary – I’m so pleased I have a place to write out these new and unexplored feelings. Tomorrow will be a new day, I’ll build on everything we’ve seen so far – challenge myself and my classmates to dig even deeper.

Blog Entry #2
1/7/15

I’m not sure whether to label this second post as “fatigued”, “overwhelmed” or “elated”. I mean those first two terms, in truly the best way. It’s our second day in Mindanao and just as Dr. Iyer promised we have become relatively comfortable with the subject matter on the ground, the acronyms and, as our host organization put it – we have begun to approach the beginning comprehension of a socio-economic and political conflict with “a religious flavor”. But, can we really take that at face value? Mindanao, an island of war, clan fighting, peace zones and the like – is a whole new world (forgive the cliches, I’m working on little sleep and a 14 hour day). Yet, at the same time – Mindanao is oddly familiar.

The group sits down before our meeting with a Muslim community within the A.R.M.M.

How do I explain this familiarity? It’s just a feeling, I suppose – something I need to follow up on as I continue through this trip. It began yesterday, our first day of stakeholder meetings and group interviews. We were lucky enough to gain access to a military base and meet with a joint-task force of high ranking Philippine military personnel. As we went through the awkwardly perfunctory pleasantries, andintroductions and then the nitty-gritty of the presentations – the conversation turned to the notion of reintegration of combatants and impunity. Then again, this conversation reemerged as we met with the Mindanao Development Agency.

Suddenly, I felt like I had lived this before – in a not so far away life. My three years in Uruguay came flooding back and with it it’s own history of conflict. Quick rundown – Uruguay’s military dictatorship held a referendum in 1980 in which the people voted to extend or annul the military’s proposed constitutional reform (extending their rule). The constitution was struck down, bringing in a period of 5 years and a relatively smooth transition into a democratically elected government. In the midst of all this, the notions of transitional justice and normalization were on the forefront of everyone’s mind. If the military officials were giving up their power, thanks to a successful democratic process, would they be processed for their crimes? Were the detainments of leftist individuals, the torture and disappearing of civilians going to be prosecuted? The answer was no, and the “Ley de imputabilidad” or the law of impunity was established as a prerequisite to a democratic transition. This law allowed for potential spoilers (military) to ruin the transition – but also perpetuated the injustices caused by many during the more than 20 years of the Uruguayan dictatorship. It left open wounds in the communities of Uruguay and systematically ignored the trauma felt by many families of the victims of these crimes.

Admittedly, the transition to a democracy and the building of peace are two different beasts – but they certainly are branches of the same peace-building and conflict-transforming tree. Here in Mindanao, with the introduction of the Bangsamoro Basic Law (BBL) – normalization and transitional justice is a pillar of the framework that is to be set into place. There are 10,000 to 15,000 MILF fighters in Mindanao – what will happen if this law is established and they are suddenly no longer ‘freedom-fighters’ (or call them what you will)?

Various stakeholders have told our group – local communities and NGOs alike – that the victims of martial law (civilians) that have been mistreated by the military (rape, torture, land grabs, harassment, etc.) will be able to “claim what is owed to them”. Yet, what does this mean? Additionally, MILF fighters will be reintegrated into the community and be placed under a general law of impunity – surrendering their guns to be considered “beyond use” upon the establishment of the BBL. Something for me – doesn’t compute. Will the military truly be placed under fire? A large part of me doubts that – and thinks that any type of trauma or social healing won’t stem from that type of justice *if so, what incentive might the military have in allowing the ceasefire to continue and bring a new era for the Moros in Mindanao.

I look at Uruguay – it has attained sustained peace in its transition. It has strong and transparent government institutions and more importantly it’s people are proud of their democratic tradition. Yet, the inability to prosecute the military still hangs over their head. Like in Mindanao, the dark years of the U.S. backed military doesn’t get taught in school – it is blotted from existence. Maybe someday, as the generations pass on – it will be? Or perhaps it will fester and manifest in other social and civil unrest.

Mindanao doesn’t have the same infrastructure, history (well, same Spanish colonial ties– yes), resources, transparency nor culture as this South American country – it is a completely different story. And I can’t help but wonder how this will actually play out if the BBL passes. Will it be the utopia that many people here hope it to be? Questions for me, turn into more questions – and so many things in my past seem to appear during these long group interview sessions and I’m basking in the opportunity to reflect on my own experience as I learn a mile-a-minute.