Manila, Philippines (Part 1)

It had been two months since our last program and by now you know I was nearly going crazy, itching to get back to what we do. The past two months had been particularly difficult, alternating ups and downs. I really felt like I didn’t have my head on straight anymore. My world was spinning and Around The Worlds, usually the centerpiece of it all, had taken a backseat to more pressing things.

I had spent the better part of nearly four weeks in the Philippines, reconnecting with my family I hadn’t seen in three years due to the COVID-19 pandemic. Cousins were taller, titas and titos were now wiser, and my grandparents older, but time together was to be cherished. We never get enough of it you see.

I found myself caught between worlds. Torn between places, people, and things, it was easy to feel lost in that in-between. Around the Worlds was missing and it felt like my joy was too. I was eager to get back to it. I always am, but now more than ever.

Before we had landed in the Philippines, I talked with an old contact from the pre-pandemic days. Her name was Sister Carmella, and she ran point at Bahay ni Maria, an all-girls home in Makati.

I ran a free session with them back in September 2018. That session would forever hold a piece of my heart since it was our first ever all-girls program. It was an important step to increase access to sport, especially for young girls who do not get as much exposure to it like their male counterparts. Plus to hold that first program in the Philippines, a place that feels like home with such an incredible group of young girls back then, was always going to be a special memory to cherish for quite some time.

With a break in my family’s schedule and a quick conversation with Sister Carmella, who was unfortunately out of town at the time of the program, we set up a date and time that worked and that was it. I won’t lie, two months without sessions had me feeling antsy. I was going through all of it, but the emotions felt good. They felt real. They felt genuine and I hoped that it was a sign of something good to come.

Following a four hour night sleep mixed with equal parts anxiousness and excitement, I caught a Grab, the Filipino version of Uber, from Quezon City to Bahay Maria. My mother talked with Sister Carmella beforehand as well, who had informed us that many of the girls from last time would be there again, though they had already grown older and might not be quite as interested in playing as they previously were. I remained optimistic though, and as we dragged a bag of equipment through Bahay Maria’s familiar front gates, that optimism paid off.

“Kuya Stephen!” one girl yelled out.

“Kuya Stephen is here!” yelled another, alerting the other girls, who had just finished attending a Sunday morning mass.

“We told the girls yesterday that you were coming,” shared a Bahay Maria staff member, “They’ve been excited since last night.”

After a very brief greeting to the girls, I excused myself for a moment and left them in the more than capable hands of my mother, who talked to them for a bit about how the past years have been and asked them about some of their favorite parts they remembered from that 2018 session way back when. Meanwhile, I walked a couple blocks further into the subdivision to the park we would be using that day, which was the same one from over four years ago too.

Buzzing with a mix of nervous and excited energy, I laid my luggage on top of one of the park’s benches and took out my essentials to begin the set-up process. I prepared three rows of cones with four in each one and eight soccer balls perched atop those cones so we could jump straight into our listening exercise. By this point, the girls had already arrived at the field with my mom, and had eagerly inserted themselves into my half-made grid, offering their hands and help in organizing the soccer balls we would be using. Arriving just after them was a friend, Rronyth, who would be helping run the day’s session and assisting me when my Tagalog fell short of the mark.

The last time I ran programming here was back in September of 2019 with a couple different sessions at some local orphanages in metro Manila. As a result, I hadn’t spoken much Tagalog in the past three years and as expected, it was going to take some time to wear the rust off. For that reason, I was grateful to have Rron around to tap her in whenever I couldn’t find the right words to explain our drills. Playing grid now complete, I called the girls over to one side of it for a brief introduction.

First, a formal introduction for my mom, then another for Rron – both followed by thunderous applause from my little kababayans. Then, I quickly reintroduced myself.

“Magandang umaga lahat sa inyo” or “Good morning to all of you,” I started off, brandishing a big smile under my surgical mask.

“Ako si Stephen. Super masaya na ako maging dito kasi,” I added, the latter half in admittedly very bad Tagalog. (“I’m Stephen. I’m super happy to be here now because…”)

I hit a roadblock and had to pause. However, the girls speak English and we ran like 95 percent of that 2018 session in English too. I switched over to English to finish my sentence – telling them how excited I was to see them again after four long and difficult years.

“Cge, kailangan mo isang partner,” I said, partnering off the participants and transitioning things into our listening exercise.

We hadn’t done this one back in 2018, likely due to my below average Tagalog, so I was excited to see how the girls responded to it. Plus, Rron and I had run through the basics of it the day before, just to make sure I could somewhat explain the rules in the kids’ native language. I tried my absolute best to explain the rules, but fell short and tapped her in to finish things off.

“When he says head, you’ll touch your head with your hands,” she explained in Tagalog. “And when he says ‘kili kili’, you’ll touch your ‘kili kili’,” she said, drawing a chorus of laughter from all of the girls – as Rron had just instructed them to touch their own armpits.

From there, I kicked things off with a practice round, just to see if the rules had sunk in for our participants. They absolutely nailed it. With everyone on the same page, I took out three different colored captain’s bands for the sake of variety and polled the group to see who might be the day’s chosen leader. An older girl raised her hand, and I immediately recognized her from our 2018 session.

“Anong pangalan mo?” I said, asking for her name. 

“Rhian,” she answered with a radiant smile.

“Ah, parang Rhian Ramos, yung artista,” I said, referencing the famous Filipina actress with whom she shared a first name.

“Opo,” she said, that same smile widening,

Captain Rhian ran a couple more rounds before I switched rules for the kids to use their feet instead of hands upon hearing the word “bola”.

“My turn!” I yelled out to the girls, them all standing at the ready, ears attentive and feet itching to hear the right command.

“Cge, Listen na!” I exclaimed, hoping to mask my lack of Tagalog body part vocabulary with a mixture of confidence and humor.

“Ulo!” (Head) I yelled out.

“Kamay!” (Hands)

“Kili kili!” as expected, more laughter.

“Kili kili ni partner mo!” (Your partner’s armpits!) “Ewww kuya!” The girls yelled out, amidst more laughs.

“Kadiri!” (Disgusting) yelled an older girl, refusing to honor the command.

“Cge Cge, joke lang,” I assured them that I was kidding.

“Ulo ni partner mo!” I yelled out, this one a task they were okay with carrying out.

“Bola!”

With our listening exercise out of the way, we divided into three teams of four girls and I handed each group two soccer balls to jump into our relay races. I demoed a variation, Rhian another, and Rron as well – with the girls excitedly trying each round to complete the course before the teams to their left and right could do the same, I mean, it was a race after all. Following our relay race, I split the dozen girls right down the middle into two groups of six. We were going to be practicing some basic ball control. The intention was to get them comfortable with heading the ball before rounding out the day’s session with mano o cabeza. Well in this case, Kamay o Ulo.

I took my team of six over to an already-made grid, while Rron manned the other one – patiently guiding our respective groups through each technique. At first, the girls were hesitant to head the ball as expected, just letting it gently graze the back of their head as it narrowly missed their desired forehead target. Soon after, the girls were confidently heading the ball, unafraid of failure, pain, or anything else they may have felt prior. I knew it was time for head it, catch it – so I quickly blew my whistle and drew the girls in, asking them to organize themselves in a semicircle.

As I began to explain the game, a girl interrupted things with a raised hand – “I think we played this one before Kuya!” she said.

As I finished the rules, they were even more than convinced that we had done the same game back in 2018.

“Pero English lang, dba?” I asked, trying my best to remember if we did the rounds in English in 2018. I then asked them which language they would like to play it in this time.

“Taglish,” said one girl, with a smile.

“Kahit gusto mo,” I said, telling them they could pick whichever they’d like. “Even Spanish too.”

“Hindi, Kuya!” they responded, showing their displeasure with the last suggestion.

I wasn’t completely convinced that we were all on the same page so I decided to hit a practice round, first moving to the right side of the line to quiz an older girl on the rules. “When I say ulo,  anong ginagawa mo?” I asked, questioning if they knew what to do next.. “Kamay,” she answered softly, saying she should catch it.

“And when I say ‘kamay’?” I said, as a follow-up question.

“Ulo,” she responded.

“What about if I say ‘utak’ (brain)?” I said, slyly.

She burst into laughter, as did Captain Rhian, next in line beside her. I had Rron run a round to grab one winner, and then closed things out with a round myself – the winner being a young girl named Geneveve who was present back in 2018 albeit much younger then. With all of the day’s activities exhausted, the girls all sat down behind the park’s goal for a little chat and a distribution of prizes.

I asked them if we had done a ball for each of them back in 2018. One girl quickly responded that they had been given a choice between a soccer ball or a brand-new camp t-shirt.

“British Soccer!” said an old participant, Angel, remembering the branded tee shirts that had been given out way back then.

First, we passed out a few bookmarks for the group, a set chock-full of readers as we were to see later that day during their free time – many of them getting lost in a nice novel in Bahay Maria’s living room. Next, an Around the Worlds colored bracelet for each girl with many of them requesting a second one – a request happily granted for those who asked. I remember back in 2018 we had started to teach the girls how to make the bracelets themselves before ultimately having to depart back home due to a busy schedule. Next, our two prize winners were called up. They received their choice of a new soccer ball along with the drawstring bags every girl was getting. On top of that all, a strong round of applause, too. Because of course they deserved that.

They both stepped forward and chose the smaller, colored soccer balls. A blue number and a pink one too. I can’t fault them, I would’ve picked just the same if it were up to me. After, we told the girls to check the corner of their bookmarks, for on them there were numbers written from 1-15. This would determine the order of selection for our variety of drawstring bags – Grey Around the Worlds ones, Blue Better Everyday ones, and the remaining orange Around the Worlds ones I had left from last year.

“Ah, it’s the brand of a friend playing professional soccer in Mexico!” I said excitedly, before sharing my take on its meaning. Shortly thereafter, they shared their own as well. “Like to always be improving, right?” one answered.

Caught in a bit of an in-between, with the girls decompressing before heading back to Bahay Maria to wash up and eat, we took some time to sit around and chat for a bit. The girls excitedly shared their dreams of what they wanted to be when they grew up.

“Lawyer,” said one girl with conviction.

“Engineer for me,” said another.

Among the rest were nurses, and other incredibly important careers. I turned to my left and saw Rron talking with the girls. I didn’t want to eavesdrop but I faintly heard her ask the girls what their favorite songs were, with each of them excitedly sharing their current, go-to track. As I headed over to that same park bench from earlier to pack up my bags – I was caught in my tracks by some of the older girls. Recognizing them and their faces, I ran over to my bag and grabbed my iPhone – I knew I still had pictures saved on it from our session back in 2018.

“Oh my!” they’d all exclaimed, seeing pictures of themselves from four years earlier. I, of course, was proud to see how far they’d come and how much they had grown, but I reckon they were more just embarrassed to look at old pictures of themselves.

Regardless, it was a treat to compare those photos against the day’s present company.

“Look! That’s Rhian!”

“Ah! That’s Geneveve!” they’d yell out, cross-referencing each picture with the current list of residents both at Bahay and at the park that day.

Already well over our closing time of 10:30, we packed up bags and began the short 3 block trek back to Bahay. Speaking with a staff member named Rosie, she shared that one girl named Jana had actually just celebrated a birthday, her 18th one, which can be compared to our Sweet Sixteens back in the states. They are incredibly special, and feature a wonderful mixture of family, food, games, speeches, and more. I’ve been fortunate to attend some of them in the past for my younger cousins, and always appreciated their significance both within the family and within the life of the celebrant as well.

“Jana!” I yelled out, she was already further down the road, readying to turn into Bahay’s front gate.

She turned her head, “yes Kuya?”

“Maligayang kaarawan!” I exclaimed – as she flashed a big smile, fondly remembering her January 2nd birthday.

With nothing on our schedule for the day, Rosie invited mom and I to dine with the girls for lunch. On the menu was pork sinigang and pancit palabok. How was I supposed to say no to that, those are two of my favorite Pinoy dishes!

Stomachs full and hearts fuller, we bid farewell to the girls and staff members and called a Grab to take us back towards Quezon. As I sat there in the back of the SUV, I couldn’t help but smile. Scrolling through a collection of pictures and videos captured from just moments ago like a time capsule of joy and happiness, I felt like myself again. For the first time in a long time, I felt like my joy was back. I turned the camera off and just looked out the window – enjoying the scenery a little more than usual, finding myself a little less bothered by the heavy Manila traffic than usual. It had been so long since I felt at home and finally, I was.