(with apologies to Mr. Robert Fulghum)

As a child, I’ve learned early on about the “do’s” and “don’ts” that every sensible person needed to observe in order to survive or do well in this world. What I didn’t count on, however, was how my experience of “this world” would change in scope and significance every decade or so. As far as the “world” that I am immersed in now is concerned, a lot of the things that have become second nature to me in the culture that I grew up in are simply not applicable—or at least, not practiced. The following are just a few of them:

1. Don’t talk to strangers.

It is impossible to walk the streets of Mazabuka—or of any town in Zambia, for that matter—and not be greeted with a “Hello, how are you?” by complete strangers who actually expect you to respond to them as if you’ve known each other forever. For someone who grew up in a big city where anyone you don’t know (or even those you actually know) could potentially be a thug or a thief, exchanging such pleasantries with random passers-by takes a bit of getting used to. Sometimes, I can’t help but find it a bit intrusive (because there are some people who really just push things too far). For the most part, however, I find it refreshing. It, after all, speaks of a world that has not yet been so debilitated by fear or cynicism such that people could still afford to take time to acknowledge every other person they encounter in the streets.

But then again, in a small town such as Mazabuka, each person that one crosses paths with could be one’s neighbour or a friend of a friend. So essentially, no one is really a stranger…everyone is a “friend” whom you just haven’t met yet.:D

2. Keep right.

As a pupil, I would remember our teachers reminding us to always “keep right” when passing corridors, staircases, street lanes, or what-have-you. Hence, as we got older, it just made perfect sense to always stay on the right side of traffic to preserve order in the streets (although the words “order” and “streets/roads” don’t really go together when talking about the traffic situation in the Philippines).

It is, thus, no wonder that I got quite disoriented when I first ventured out into the streets of Zambia aboard a vehicle. Hugely influenced by its former British colonizers, Zambians are naturally “left-oriented” when it comes to driving on the road. While I’ve been to London and some “lefty” countries before, I never had to live in those places; hence, there was never any need to adjust my orientation. But that isn’t the case where I am now. How many times have I, as a passenger, entered on the right side (front seat) of a vehicle here, only to realize that it is the driver’s seat? Good thing my work doesn’t anymore require me to drive a motorcycle in my placement as originally intended—otherwise, I would probably have caused some interesting accidents in the usually not-so-busy streets of Mazabuka.:P

(On the other hand, Mazabukans are not exactly the best of drivers, so maybe I’ll fit just right in. Hehe.)

3. It’s good habit to take a bath everyday.

In a tropical country such as the Philippines, it is almost considered a crime not to take a bath at least once a day. In fact, for many Filipinos, bathing twice a day—first thing in the morning and last thing in the evening—is the norm. It’s just one of those things that almost every Pinoy child was born into—no ifs and buts about it.

In my current country of residence, however, a bath is not an essential part of the locals’ daily routine. This is especially true during the colder months (May-July) when people do not perspire as much and, as such, do not feel the need to take a bath—never mind that such (lack of) practice is not too olfactory-friendly.:P It doesn’t help either that water supply runs out about thrice a day in this humble town of ours. I could just imagine how such a situation could create a dilemma for some people—go on without bathing or dying of thirst? What’s the lesser of two evils? Go figure.

It is not just about the weather or the water supply though. There is actually a myth circulating around these parts which states that for every day that an individual takes a bath, one day will likewise be subtracted from his/her life span. When I heard of this, I thought, “if this were true, and if the average Filipina reached 70 or so years, then I’m nearing my dying age.” Hmmm…somehow, that doesn’t worry me as much as not maintaining my hygiene.:)

4. One hour of planning saves you three hours of work… (or something like that)

I do not know who to blame exactly for my near-compulsive tendencies when it comes to planning, but I suspect it had something to do with filling up all those time budget sheets in my elementary classes all those years ago.:) (So okay, perhaps this “lesson” is beyond Kindergarten level already. Harhar.) At least no one could say that my teachers did not instill in me the value of forward-thinking all those years ago.

Where I am right now, however, an hour of planning is sometimes just that—an hour wasted on planning. Whether it is planning a trip or a work programme, a million fortuitous developments (i.e., accidents, tardiness and absenteeism, event cancellations, unscheduled events decided on a whim) typically crop up, which often overturn the original plan and/or bring it to a different direction.

To be fair though, I also learned that preparation and planning can only take one so far. After that, it’s one’s own diskarte (sorry, no exact English translation for this word) that will enable one to go the full distance. And the ways things are going, I would need a lot of that (diskarte, that is) here in Africa.

5. Don’t leave food on your plate.

Friends who know me well can attest that I typically leave nary a trace of food on my plate when taking my meal. It’s just one of the habits I’ve acquired as a kid, which I attribute to my aunt’s penchant for awarding prizes to the child who has the cleanest plate after eating.:) On top of that, I was always surrounded by elders who constantly reminded me, “Finish your food…children in Africa are dying of hunger.” At first, I didn’t really get the logic of that statement. “What did my eating habits have to do with the food shortage of an entire continent halfway across the world?,” I wondered. It was only later that I realized that it was about promoting the equitable allocation of the world’s resources, or the value of not getting more than what one needs, so that others may have their share.

Now that I am in Africa, however, I am told that it is not good manners for a person to finish all the food on his/her plate. Such practice, they say, connotes that the person was not given enough to eat, and might be found offensive by the host.

Isn’t that sooo ironic?

But then again, a lot of things in Zambia are. And truth be told, these things don’t bother me much anymore (except, perhaps, for #4…I stand by my belief that planning is important, no matter which part of the world one is in). Immersing in these realities is part of my continuing education about the world around us, beyond the context that each of us grew up in. And I shall continue to learn with openness and wonderment—just like in Kindergarten.

(So yes, Mr. Fulghum, you did speak the universal truth, after all.:D)

I am Pia…

Having three first names and a compound, hyphenated surname is a fate of mine that I would not wish on anybody else. Over the years, my classmates, teachers, work associates, clients, acquaintances, and even close friends have managed to come up with countless permutations derived from my first and last names. I’m hardly surprised anymore whenever I would find myself registered as Pia Ortiz, Johanna Luis, Joanna Ruiz, Maria Ortis-Luiz, and so on and so forth.

Well, my list of “pseudonyms” just got longer upon my arrival in Zambia. Here—where people are commonly called Mwanza, Mutinta or Phiri—my name is entirely too complicated. Hence, I just go around introducing myself simply as Pia. That, I thought, would be easy enough for anyone to remember. However, just when I’d see a smile of recognition dawning on an acquaintance’s face upon the mention of that name, the same person would say, “Ahh, Pia…how do you spell that? P-E-E-R?”

Encounters like those always make me smile.

My favorite “name game,” however, happened just last week—I was reading a documentation report of an event I attended, when I saw my name spelled “P-E-A-R”. Great, now I am a fruit! Oh well. So much for attempting to make life easier for all of us.:)

My agnominal woes, however, do not end there. If my first name is already proving to be a bit of a challenge for the locals to spell, then my family name seems to be entirely too other-wordly for them. They try to manage, though, by making “short cuts” to my name, such that in most documentation reports, I’d see it written as P. Otis or P. Louise. Close, but not quite. Nice try though.:)

…and I’m a Filipino.

After learning my name, most locals would typically ask where I come from. Then, on the same breath, they would almost always venture a guess pertaining to my country of origin—except that 8 out of 10 times, they do not get it right. Ever since I’ve arrived in Zambia, I’ve been mistaken to be Chinese, Japanese, Labanese, Irish (!), Russian (!!!) and a host of other nationalities.:D Of course, I would then tell them, “I am from the Philippines,” to which more than a couple of my acquaintances have replied, “Ah, so you’re a Philippian!” Haha. That has got to be my favorite “nationality” so far.

On the rare occasion that someone would actually guess correctly that I am “Philippino,” that same person would then ask, “So, how’s Ina?” The first time someone asked me that, I was absolutely clueless as to who this Ina was—until a friend told me that that is the name of Kristine Hermosa’s character on the drama series entitled “The Promise” (“Pangako Sa ‘Yo”) which, apparently, was a big hit in Lusaka a few years back. (It has become so popular such that it actually has re-runs even now.) Talk about the power of ABS-CBN—este, of prime time television, that is.

Amazingly, though, I’ve had the fortune to meet two people who actually know about the PhilipPINES (pronounced in this country as if it rhymes with the golden cones that are so abundant in Baguio) not through some telenovela, but through the international news. They would discuss with me how much they did not like Marcos’ regime, and how they’ve liked things ever since Aquino took over as President. Obviously, they haven’t heard much about FVR, Erap or GMA.

The abovementioned topics, in a nutshell, comprise the Mazabukan databank of information about the Philippines. And I’m fine with that…for now. I think I’ve already gotten used to making small talk about Ina what’s-her-name, or about Imelda and her shoe collection, or about Cory and her “People Power”. Thank goodness they do not ask me about the latter’s showbiz daughter—that would be just too much for me to handle.:)

~*~*~*~*~

My name. My nationality. Those are the first few things that people got to know about me in this land that, for the next two years, would be my “home”. Hopefully, as time goes by, I would go beyond just letting them know the correct spelling of my name or how to pronounce “Philippines” properly, or how not everything is rosy in my country post-Marcos. Rather, I hope to be able to share with them myself, as a Filipino and a citizen of the world.