daniel bowman simon

The invitation kit to serve in Peace Corps Philippines mentioned something about many volunteers living in nipa huts. As of last week, after 17 months and three caring host families, I finally have my own place to live, and it is indeed a nipa hut. So just what is a nipa hut? Nipa is a type of palm that grows low to the ground. It has been used traditionally as the roof of huts since time immemorial for all I know. My nipa roof only leaks a little. Now that we got the roof out of the way, you might want to know about the walls. They are amakan, which is split and woven bamboo. The beams are lubi (coconut wood), and the floor is lipak (bamboo slats.) My hut is very modern. It has running water, a telephone, electricity, and a comfort room. (None of these amenities were promised in the invitation kit, and although I try to live simply, it’s hard to resist a modern convenience or four. Some people tell me I need a fridge, but it’s not necessary when I cook everyday. People are also bemused that I can survive with no TV.)

For too many reasons to mention, it took about four months to build. It should have taken about two weeks. But I can’t complain, because the wait gave me the opportunity to get to know my neighbors pretty well before I moved in. And the neighbors drop by all the time, because they are worried I am lonely. You see, Filipinos generally don’t live alone, and they seem to dread the thought of it. Filipinos also have a knack to tell the same exact joke. I have a tally sheet for all the times someone tells me I have many American neighbors…American frogs…ha, ha, ha, sorry I don’t get it. Sure, it’s rainy season and the field beside my hut is flooded and home to copious amounts of frogs, but American?

The custom here is to have a priest bless a new home, and roast a pig in celebration. I chose to do things a bit different, but in the same jovial spirit. I hired a clown, and convinced my friends at Meat Magic (soy, wheat, and corn proteins, plus carrageenan) to come over and prove that being vegetarian for a meal isn’t that awful. I also ordered a bucket full of taho, a sweetened soy drink which is usually sold by an ambulant vendor door to door in the mornings.

I spent the week prior to the party inviting everyone I know, and plenty who I don’t know. But people are shy, so many of my neighbor friends decided not to come. Instead, when the food arrived, I tried to make a speech, but my brain experienced a momentary lapse of all the Cebuano I ever learned (and I know quite a bit.) So I just said “Thanks, let’s eat my house!” and hordes of people, most of whom I’d never seen before, descended on the pots of sweet & sour, curry, spaghetti, and spring rolls, as well as the platters of pineapple. The plates were piled double and triple high, and if a person didn’t take off with a whole lot of food, he or she found a good spot to wolf it down and come back for seconds. I don’t think anybody even realized it wasn’t animal flesh they were ingesting. Within twenty minutes, all the food intended for three to four hundred people was gone…devoured by less than one hundred. When hosting a party in the Philippines, the #1 rule is don’t run out of food. Thankfully, an experienced Filipino friend had stashed away a few servings of each dish in case friends of mine showed up late…which as sure enough as The Simpsons are yellow, latecomers there were.

So if y’all need a place to stay in the Philippines, you’re more than welcome to crash my shack for the duration of my stay. (After which it will become the municipal office of solid waste management.)