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This is a subdued version of what we hear at night after a good rain, which is just about every night.
Modesty standards are another part of cultural differences I find fascinating. Women here, good women, nice girls, can wear shorter shorts, shorter skirts, or skin tight slacks. But I almost never see tank tops, more rarely spaghetti string tops, and definitely never, ever cleavage, no matter how hot it gets. On the other hand, nursing in public isn’t even remotely an issue. If you’re feeding your baby, you feed your baby. No covers. Plenty of exposure, and older women may come up and coo at the baby or hold his hand while you are obviously, clearly breastfeeding. I have seen this in church, and elsewhere and it warms my heart.
Otoh, revealing my own cultural imperialism, I am far less charmed by the fact that men will stand outside, back to the street, to urinate, and the only rude thing about it is if you stare. This does not warm my heart. But it is what it is.
Just for Fun:
Excercise class at a nearby mall here in Davao City.
I’ve only been saying that at least ten years, and it wasn’t particularly visionary of me..
(Racially, I was a member of a distinct minority in high school (perhaps 15% caucasian). For five years we lived in Japan. And now we are in the Philippines.
There is a medical school in our area, and it is attended by lots of students from India. There is a street of authentic Indian food along side it. There are also a lot of Korean missionaries here, and Korean businessmen as well, and many of them put their children in the school where my husband teaches. Not too long ago I got to do some of my little bit and help out the librarian who also teaches language arts to Kindergarteners and combined grades 4 and 5. The children were adorable, and I thought they were sweet, even the boys who climbed into an empty cupboard while I was reading (I let them, because they are children, and I could tell they were still listening).
They were reading stories about winter, which is interesting, since all of them talked about how in the winter it snows and we build snowmen and make snow-angels, and of course, here it gets ‘cold’ which might me on a very chilly night it gets down to perhaps 80 F. but mostly not even close. But as it turned out, the majority of the children are Korean and they had gone home for the holidays, since it’s only a half day’s flight, so they had seen snow, and made snow angels and ice cream, and one enthusiastically told me, had even eaten the snow. I have been reading that there are almost as many Korean missionaries as American these days, and perhaps my view is skewed since we are much closer to Korea here than America, both geographically and culturally, but just based on what I see and here in this area, Korea is outstripping the Americans on the mission field.
The American children were even more outnumbered than I realized. I had assumed one little girl was American, based largely on the fact that looked so much like one of my one little girls, very blonde, almost tow-headed, with large, limpid brown eyes and an adorably expressive face (my own little one practically spoke a third language with her eye brows alone). I nearly laughed aloud at myself when she spoke in answer to a question and I realized she’s more likely Austrian than American.
I knew we would be a minority. I am just amused at how much of a minority we are. I don’t even think Americans are a close 4thrd if we were ranking the ethnic groups I see, and that’s even with me mistakenly including random Europeans.