Courtesy Calls: A Peace Corps Blog
"Welcome, all of you. I am mayor of Palo. I was recently elected in the May election, before this I was the governor of Leyte, for three terms, that is the most terms allowed, and before I was a congressman, and most recently I worked for PAGCOR, not for the gambling but for the dentistry and the health because I want to make things better."
Mayor Remedios Matin Petilla wore a simple silk dress, deep royal purple. She had huge earrings that looked like--and probably were--pearls, and she wore a huge ring on her left hand, also pearl. She looked fresh as a daisy and years younger than her long political resume. Behind her hung an oil painting in the style of JMW Turner, an American flag in mid-flutter. Around her sat 15 smiling and sweaty Peace Corps volunteers who had just struggled through formal introductions in the local dialect, Waray-Waray. I had succeeded competently in pronouncing the Waray-Waray. I had also succeeded in mispronouncing the mayor's name.
This visit to the mayor was one of the many the opicial nga magbisita, or courtesy calls, we made during our first week of training. We'd called on the local barangay kapitan, sir Nelson P. Mendiola, who gave us coffee and cookies and explained the workings of neighborhood government. Judicial mediation took up a significant part of the barangay council's work. Sometimes, Kaptain Mendiola explained, there were three or four cases in a month. We asked him about the most common complaints.
"Oral defamation," he replied. "And property disputes. Property disputes can take ten years."
We'd called on Ma'am Sarah Apurillo, the regional superintendent of the Department of Education (DepEd), who gave us hot dogs and orange soda and chatted with us for a solid hour and then invited us to the upcoming anniversary fiesta (which we attended--it was understood that we couldn't not attend--and spent much of the time sitting for photos with regional administrators). We decided not to attend the DepEd's bloodletting session, however [for my Filipino readers, 'bloodletting' in the U.S. is referred to as 'donating blood', while 'bloodletting' refers to an old practice of draining the body of blood to remove sickness].
Since I'd be teaching at the Eastern Visayas State University in Tanauan, I'd also called on the mayor of that city. He had offered me coffee and chatted about the projects ongoing in Tanawan. A citywide camera surveillance program was occupying much of his time.
"The cameras will provide added security and peace," he explained.
I asked him how many cameras would be installed.
"I am not yet certain," he said. "But there will be many cameras."
I also called on the director of academic affairs at EVSU Tanauan, sir Benedicto Militante. He gave me an energy drink and a tour of the small campus and explained that I would need to compose a formal letter to the president of the university.
"And you will need to provide supporting documents," he added, smiling. "We want the president to know that this is an important matter. We will need to know your personal circumstances. What supporting documents will you provide?"
I didn't exactly know what he meant by 'personal circumstances,' but I suggested copies of my transcripts and my resume and information about the Peace Corps program, which he seemed to consider satisfactory.
Each time, I found these courtesy calls to be a very Filipino mixture of formal and informal. Of official procedure and overwhelming hospitality. And without fail, they featured meryenda, snacks. Courtesy calls, our Peace Corps teacher explained, helped us get to know important people in the community so that when we needed help on a project we would have someone who could help.
This was never more evident than during the courtesy call with Mayor Petilla. The Petilla family had dominated politics in the region for a long time (the mayor's son was currently governor of Leyte), and as the mayor listed the many projects she was considering, you began to realize how much Filipino goverance happened first at the local level.
"I am thinking about improving the public parking," Mayor Petilla had said. "Because it is a big generator of municipal funding. And I am thinking about improving the market. I have requested an engineer last week to evaluate the market to see how we can improve. And I am thinking about a new municipal building. Because this building is very old. We will have windows like old houses and we will use wooden frames and we will make this into a center for cultural arts because Palo is very rich in history. This painting," she gestured to the American flag behind her. "This was painted by a local artist. But I must have my office, too."
We collectively nodded in appreciation.
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