| Many love stories have been told about Americans stationed in war-torn countries falling in love with local women. Unfortunately, many stories often follow the script of "Miss Saigon," a play which ends tragically because of societies' opposition to intercultural and interracial marriages. The Philippines, which had been home to U.S. naval and air force bases in the main island of Luzon after World War II, has many such stories. Stereotypes of local women emerged soon after the war ended. The term "hanggang piyer" (only up to the pier) describes a Filipina left behind by her sailor lover. It was uncommon to see a native girl and an American man getting married in church. If people see an American man with a Filipina, the common thought was: "She must have been picked up at a bar in Angeles City or Subic (the sites for Clark Air Base and Subic Naval Base)." This was the prevailing societal belief when Bruce Allen Best, a young American Peace Corps volunteer, met his future wife, Eugenia Fule, daughter of a prominent politician and a Peace Corps trainer. The Peace Corps The Peace Corps traces its roots and mission to 1960, when then Senator John F. Kennedy challenged students at the University of Michigan to serve their country in the cause of peace by living and working in developing countries. From that inspiration grew an agency of the federal government devoted to world peace and friendship. Since that time, more than 187,000 Peace Corps Volunteers have been invited by 139 host countries to work on issues ranging from AIDS education to information technology and environmental preservation. Today's Peace Corps is more vital than ever, working in emerging and essential areas such as information technology and business development, and committing more than 1,000 new volunteers as a part of the President's Emergency Plan for AIDS Relief. Peace Corps volunteers continue to help countless individuals who want to build a better life for themselves, their children, and their communities. -- www.peacecorps.gov Bruce Allen Best It was 1972. Bruce Best just graduated from Indiana University with an economics degree. Like many young graduates, Bruce wanted to see the world. "I knew that I wanted to travel and see other places,"Bruce began in an interview with Asian Wisconzine. "My main goal wasn't to make as much money as I could, and I wasn't ready to get married, and so I wanted to go to other places." He applied for an airline steward position with the now-defunct PANAM Airlines, a sure shot for free international travel; and with the Peace Corps, after hearing a radio ad for volunteers. "I decided I wanted to go to Africa because my minor in college was Afro-American studies. I'm always interested in cultures, so my interest was going to Africa. About three months later, the Peace Corps called and said, 'How would you like to go to the Philippines?' Actually it's a little bit difficult for people with business-type degrees to get an assignment in the Peace Corps. If you're in (the fields of) fisheries, health or education ... those were in demand. But they called me, so I said 'OK.'" Bruce arrived in Manila three weeks before martial law was declared by the late President Ferdinand Marcos (September 21, 1972). There was a big flood in Metro Manila so the Peace Corps volunteers were put to work right away. "I can never forget my first impression of the Filipinos," Bruce recalled with a big smile. "We were in bancas (boats) going to Manila areas that were flooded, distributing rice, and I would see people sitting on the roof of their house, playing guitars and singing songs. To me, the flood was catastrophic, but the people weren't like really distraught or anything, they were OK. But they were not downtrodden; I thought they were a happy group of people here!" Bruce couldn't recall any negative experiences when martial law was declared a few weeks after. "I had no idea what it was," he said truthfully. "I was just totally naive and ignorant. I just got out of college; I didn't know what martial law was, I knew nothing about it. We actually did go out and went to Manila and we'd be stopped at certain places; the soldiers would look in and talk to us. But I never felt threatened, the whole time I was there. I always felt safe the whole time I was in the Philippines." The 50 new Peace Corps volunteers, that included Bruce, were housed in San Jose Seminary in Novaliches, Quezon City. They underwent an intensive three-month language and culture training before they were given their area assignments. "The Peace Corps staff didn't waste any time," Bruce observed. "Immediately, we had four hours of language every day, starting at seven in the morning until lunch time, and then in the afternoon, we had sessions scheduled where speakers would come in from the various departments, or they had organized sessions. The evening was reserved for social activities. We'd be singing songs and learning dances. The whole staff was there the whole time. They had to be. When they wanted to go to bed, too bad, their job was still going on." Eugenia Fule Eugenia, or Gie, one of 11 children, was born in San Pablo City, Laguna province. Gie's father was a former mayor of that city. Gie attended Catholic schools and graduated from Stella Maris College in Quezon City with an English major. She taught at her high school alma mater in San Pablo City, the Our Lady of Fatima Academy (now Canossa College) for six years. "Because of my exposure to nuns and priests in high school and college, I wanted to become a nun, even when I was still in high school," Gie confided. "I never allowed myself to fall in love because I knew what I wanted." But as fate would have it, Gie was involved with the Constitutional Convention (ConCon). "At that time, all professionals, (such as) teachers were encouraged to go out to the barrios, educate the masses and tell them about their options and explain so they can make a sound, informed decision," she recalled. "So I went with some friends. We were very idealistic. We learned and after a few sessions, we were doing teach-ins. My talk, based on my studies, was about American imperialism, and how big businesses were owned by Americans versus those that were actually owned by Filipinos. I would go on teach-ins not only in the barrios but PTA meetings, and I would dish out this information with passion." But Gie was disappointed with the results of the election that legitimized the Marcos constitution and regime. "We knew for a fact that the votes were bought for five kilos of rice and maybe 50 pesos each." At that point in time, Gie knew she could not be a nun. "I decided to leave that environment," she said. "I had a friend who invited me to join the Peace Corps. She said she had a very good experience with the Peace Corps. I told myself, I know about the U.S. military and why they're here; the American businesses and why they're here; the tourists, the embassies and the diplomatic corps and why they are here. Not the Peace Corps. And that tickled my curiosity." Gie applied and was hired as a language instructor in Tagalog to Peace Corps volunteers who would be assigned in the Tagalog region. Part 2 will be the love story of Bruce and Gie. |
| (Above right) Gie and Bruce in 1973; (left) Bruce and Gie in 2007. After more than 30 years of marriage, their love for each other is still growing strong. They have been blest with two wonderful sons, a daughter-in-law, and a granddaughter |
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| Heidi M. Pascual* Publisher & Editor heidipascual@sbcglobal.net * 2006 Journalist for the Year for the State of Wisconsin (U.S.-SBA) |
| At the Peace Corps Working for peace, finding love Gie and Bruce Best's Story Part 1 of 2 By Heidi M. Pascual |
| Children as innocent victims Suicide rates high among farmers in India by Shree Sridharan Madhav, a 12-year old child of a farmer is suddenly responsible for his entire household. Why? His father, Agose, a farmer in the cotton-belt of India, on a gray Wednesday morning, swallowed a bottle of pesticide and fell dead at the threshold of his small mud house. He was not alone in this situation: Over 800 farmers have taken their own lives since January 2007 in this region and an estimated 100,000 over the past decade throughout the country. In some districts, the suicide mortality rate for male farmers was 10 times the national average for all males. On average, one Vidarbha State farmer commits suicide every eight hours. The suicides have left thousands of widows in the region, many of them between the ages of 19 and 25 with two to three children. Vidarbha State follows a pattern seen in other states such as Andhra Pradesh, Kerala, Karnataka, and Punjab. Sadly, the media choose only an occasional moment to throw its spotlight on the crisis. In a drastic measure, in some affected villages, debt-ridden farmers have announced that their kidneys are for sale. Something is wrong with this picture. What is happening? Isn't India an upcoming roaring tiger often compared with China in economic progress? India's economy may be soaring, but agriculture remains its Achilles' heel, the source of livelihood for hundreds of millions of people but a fraction of the nation's total economy and a symbol of its abiding difficulties. Most of the 700 million people in India who live off the land, survive on less than two dollars a day. Indeed, one or two crop failures, an unexpected health expense, or the marriage of a daughter, has become that much more perilous in a livelihood where the risks are already high. Coming back to the epidemic of suicides, what is the source of the problem and can something be done about it? A recent New York Times article explores a confluence of forces from moneylenders to American multinationals selling genetically modified seeds, government subsidies to farmers in U.S.A., Europe and Japan and global free trade. The NY Times article offers a somber, but important counterbalance to our frequent praise of market-driven development. "The suicides are an extreme manifestation of some deep-seated problems which are now plaguing our agriculture," said M. S. Swaminathan, the geneticist who was the scientific leader of India's Green Revolution 40 years ago and is now chairman of the National Commission on Farmers. "They are climatic. They are economic. They are social." The problem is a complex one. Monsanto, for instance, invented the genetically modified seeds that Mr. Agose planted, known as Bt cotton, which is resistant to bollworm infestation, the cotton farmer's prime enemy. Monsanto heavily advertises in the region with no competition. But the price of these modified seeds can cost nearly twice as much as ordinary ones, and they have nudged many farmers toward taking on ever larger loans, often from moneylenders charging exorbitant interest rates of 60 percent APR or more. Virtually every cotton farmer in these parts, for instance, needs the assistance of some veteran moneylenders who charge an interest rate of 60 percent APR. They collect their dues at harvest time, but exact an extra premium, compelling farmers to sell their cotton to them at a price lower than it fetches on the market, pocketing the profit. These moneylenders' collateral policy is cruel and inventive. The borrower signs a blank official document that gives the usurer the right to collect the farmer's property at any time. Business for the illegal moneylenders has boomed with the arrival of high-cost seeds and pesticides. Many moneylenders have made a whole lot of money, indeed, and many farmers are ruined. Monsanto company has more than doubled its sales of Bt cotton in India in the last year, but the expansion has been contentious. This year, a legal challenge from the government of the state of Andhra Pradesh forced Monsanto to slash the royalty it collected from the sale of its patented seeds in India. The company has appealed to the Indian Supreme Court. Monsanto's Bt cotton is a genetic "cash crop" and not the traditional "harvest crop" that the farmers had been using for centuries. That means the farmer cannot plant the harvested Bt seeds the following season (they don't grow) but has to shell out cash every year to buy a new set of Bt seeds from Monsanto. After all this, if you are wondering "We in Wisconsin -- what can we do? Can we do something, anything about it from here?" The answer is, "Yes, here is what we can and should do." We can't solve the problem. But we can offer a little to help the children of farmers. Asha-Madison, a local nonprofit chapter, has taken the initiative to increase awareness of this issue by conducting a candlelight vigil at the campus recently. They are also joining hands with UW-Indian Graduate Students Association (IGSA) by presenting a fund-raiser whose proceeds (with 0% overhead cost) will go directly to help primarily the education of the children of the affected families and the widows. We can help by sponsoring and/or attending the fund-raiser -- an Indian classical dance performance* by buying tickets, online or at local outlets in advance. * "Sacred Geometry: an experiment in Time and Space" by Kripa Baskaran and Natyarpana Dance Group** on Sunday, November 18, 4-6 p.m., Orpheum Theater, Madison. Tickets: Students - $8, General - $10, Premium Seating - $20, At the gates - $15. Buy tickets online at: http://www.ashanet.org/madison/events/sacredgeometry07.html Downtown: Orpheum Theater West Side: Borders, Maharani Grocery, Bombay Bazaar, India House East Side: Borders, Maharaja Grocery You or your company can be a sponsor for the event-- there are various sponsorship categories. For more information visit: http://www.ashanet.org/madison/events/sg_sponsors.html -- (Reprinted with permission from Asian Wisconzine [November 2007 issue]) |