A Surreal Experience
Jackie Dempsey*

I've been home for more than a month now, and I still find myself waking up in the middle of the night wondering what country I am in and ever so thankful to find toilet seats and toilet paper in just about every bathroom. While it is nice to be home, I find myself missing the beauty and warmth of the Philippines and some of the wonderful people that I met while on the 2003 mission. When I am asked about my trip to the Philippines I describe it as a "surreal experience". Surreal, in the sense that I saw so many extreme contrasts in every aspect of life. Incredible beauty in the countryside and people along with horrible air and noise pollution and poverty. There were moments that my brain had difficulty believing what my eyes were seeing.

Some nights, when I closed my eyes, I would see pills, plastic bags and labels. As a volunteer without any experience in the medical world, I was assigned to the duty of "pill counter". Fortunately, I had a lot of company in this never ending task and it was an opportunity to get to know the other members of the mission. Occasionally, I was promoted to the duty of dispensing some of these pills at the pharmacy table. It was then I was able to interact one on one with the Filipino people. It was also when I became painfully aware of my lack of foreign language skills. I found most of the people could understand me (and my feeble attempts at sign language), but I was at a distinct disadvantage when they would ask me questions in Tagalog. I relied on Ruby, Ching and Emma to cheerfully help me out with translations.

I was amazed at the willingness of people to wait in long lines to have their teeth pulled out. The teeth were quite literally flying from mouths into buckets with the occasional tooth landing in one of the dentist's shirt pocket. Once again, I was impressed with the strength of the Filipino people. There was barely a sound from the dental patients as they endured removal of tooth after tooth. I asked Brenda, one of the dentists, what was her secret to pain-free dentistry. She told me that she tells patients "no one cries in my chair". (I was offered the opportunity to be a "head holder" for the dentists, I graciously declined.)

After seeing nearly 10,000 people in three weeks, many with upper respiratory problems and parasites, it struck me that if the country could improve sanitation conditions and the air quality, at least half of their illnesses would be eliminated. I expected the sanitation to be lacking in the rural areas but the terrible air pollution from so many oil burning road vehicles really did surprise me. I found myself gasping for fresh air on the busy roads and wishing for one of the many surgical masks or bandanas to breathe through that I saw the locals wearing.

In between counting and re packing pills, I managed to sneak away and shoot nearly a thousand pictures with my new digital camera. The camera turned out to be a wonderful way to communicate with people, especially kids. I would take pictures and show the kids their pictures instantly.They were fascinated by the image and would point at themselves and laugh.

I found the Filipino people to be patient, openly friendly and very thankful. In spite of their health problems and poverty, they were quick to smile. I feel fortunate to have been part of the 2003 CMM team and to have had the opportunity to meet and work with a group of dedicated people. It was an unforgettable experience that has enriched my life.

Oh, and did I forget to mention the mangos? The Filipino mango is the best!

*A trained psychologist with the Domestic Abuse Center , Jackie Dempsey comes Derry, New Hampshire. She is the sister of CMM volunteer Steve Dempsey