Moonlit Nights in the Beaches of Bataan

You'll never know who will remind you of something in your past life.

A few weeks ago, our AC service-technician who had just visited the Philippines told me he was island hopping in the Visayas - enjoying the wonderful tropical beaches, the food, the drinks and the people. As we talked of night swimming in the beaches, he took me back to a former life and those moonlit nights in the beaches of Morong, Bataan with my dorm mates and friends from dorm 49. Oh, that was a lifetime ago.

When I was hired by ICMC (International Catholic Migration Commission) as a Cultural Orientation teacher, I had no real understanding of what was waiting for me in Bataan. I knew I was to work with Indochinese refugees and was to live and work in the same place, but the actual life I lived there is hard to put into words. It is something one has to experience to fully comprehend. It was challenging and enriching; it builds up one’s character, making one a better person.

The Philippine Refugee Processing Center (PRPC) was on mountains of Morong, Bataan. Was - as PRPC closed in the early 1990s. Its operations were funded by the United Nations High Commissioner for Refugees (UNHCR) and in that center (or what we called the "camp") worked and lived an international community that served and "processed" Indochinese refugees who were bound for a number of host countries. The majority of them were US bound.

ICMC had the biggest staff composed of American ex-pats and Filipino professionals. It also offered its staff opportunities to advance their knowledge, skills and careers. As the ESL-CO Program (English as a Second Language and Cultural Orientation) worked directly with the US State Department and the Center for Applied Linguistics (CAL), those who had visions and ambitions thrived. *

And so it came to pass that my stars were aligned. Babes Katima (Gelvoria) was the ICMC administrator in Bataan. Babes happened to be my sister's good friend when Babes was the Prefect of Students and my sister was the Guidance Counselor at the Benedictine Abbey School. They parted ways when both pursued different careers and had not seen each other for a few years. We did not know Babes worked with ICMC until that day when I left for Bataan. She was there and welcomed all of us - as my mother and sisters were there to see me off. She told me then that I would stay with her, and that was all there was to it.

She lived in dorm 49 in a room by herself. People were surprised when she informed them that I was to be her roommate. She did not have to have a roommate, given her position. She could have assigned me to any other dorm with a different roommate. But I was a little sister to her, so folks immediately understood I was special. That started the chapter in my life with dorm 49.

Staff dorms in the refugee camp had seven rooms each, with two people sharing a room. Fourteen people shared two bathrooms, a kitchen, a living room and a laundrywoman who washed staff linens. She was also hired by individuals for their personal laundry. Each room was no more than a 12' x 12' square box, with two small closet spaces - but it was enough. There was something about the chemistry of the people in dorm 49 that made it an amazing place to be. In those limited living quarters, we shared our meals, our lives, our dreams and our careers.

I stayed with Babes for a couple of months, until Marilyn, one of my dorm mates, left for abroad and I told Babes I would move in with Cora in the next room so she could have her space to herself again.

As a dorm 49er and Babes' "little sister," I had perks. One of them was access to company vehicles. At that time, very few could drive (all vehicles had manual transmissions with absolutely no power steering!) and negotiate the zigzag roads of Bataan. I was one of them. Dorm 49, with me (or Tristan, another dorm mate) at the wheel, had many evening and weekend excursions.

Working and living in the same place could be lonely and monotonous. Away from loved ones and sheltered from the distractions of city life, melancholy hit a lot of people. So whenever we could, we would steal away to the beaches of Morong during moonlit nights. We would swim, no - float - in the warm tropical sea, gaze at the moon and allow the beauty and silence of the surroundings to lead us to individual solitude....until Albert starts swearing - and then the air will be filled with laughter as we would all join in, not in swearing, but in the mirth of the moment.

And then there would be silence again - as the soft waves of the sea lull our loneliness with their soothing rhythm...and calm us - body and spirit - leading us once more to solitude. It is amazing how beauty could leave one speechless - considering that we were such a noisy bunch (Dorm 49 had a reputation of being the noisiest dorm in those days.)

PRPC, ICMC and Morong, Bataan - these are nothing but memories to me now. But Babes, Albert, Cora, Tristan, Alma, Baby, Nanding, Pacing, Marilyn, our only Brit - James, and Grace – Lita, Rodil, Oliver, Taboy, Benjie, Evelyn, Nina and Issa - they are part of my life. They helped mould the person I am today. I will always cherish the moments we shared - especially the moonlit nights in the beaches of Morong.





* ICMC staff members were given opportunities for professional advancement, training and travel. They were encouraged to be creative and submit ideas to meet program objectives. I taught as a CO teacher for two class cycles. (Each cycle was 6 weeks.) Towards the end of my 2nd cycle, I proposed the Comics Project (Life in the New Land) to the CO Program. This project involved writing a book in the comic form to teach CO competencies. The material included a teacher's guide and discussion questions at the end of each story. This project was my charge from conception to completion. I worked with artist Vir Salvador who gave life, forms and texts to my dialogues and stories, as well as with the project committee who critiqued the contents and ensured that objectives for each story were met. The first 30,000 copies were used as a consumable resource by the CO Program in Bataan. Copies were sent to other processing centers in Asia who asked the Center for Applied Linguistics (CAL) for translations in the refugee languages. In the meantime, I was promoted as CO supervisor before the original publication of the Comics, and was Materials Developer for Level A students (those who were illiterate both in their native language and in English) by the time I was working on the revisions with refugee translators. The US State Department, CAL and ICMC were coordinating the 2nd printing in English and publication of the translated versions of Life in the New Land when I started a new life of my own in the US.