Vehicular Vulnerability

Roads in the developing world are much more lively and interesting than back home:

• buildings are two feet off the edge of pavement; 
• if you want a drink, you stop, jump out, hold up traffic and make your purchase;
• it is acceptable to text and drive... your moped
• its the dogs' responsibility to move out of the way
• honking is a friendly form of communication, usually translated "scoot over, or this game of chicken is going to end badly for us both."

Our form of transportation mimics our economic status and subsequent vulnerability. In the States, we fret over side air bags and have evidence-less laws preventing our children from sitting in the front seat. We discuss safety mechanisms with an air of 'ethics', questioning the dangers we expose our family to in our car purchases.

For the vast majority of the world, the dangers are much more evident. Within this society, the roads are filled with Land Cruisers (for the UN, of course), Toyota trucks, Suzuki mini-vans (not to be confused with minivans), motorcycles, mopeds, bicycles and walking. Citizens of the same community, but of clearly different levels of susceptibility to the inherit dangers of the roadway. For the first world vehicles, a crash damages the exterior and causes a delay. For the father on the moped, flip flops, no helmet, and the family hugging on behind you, a minor accident can have a major physical and economic toll.
There's no pithy statement to wrap this up; it is just an observation made from a few days riding through this land. 

Dirty Santa Failure

Just finished a White Elephant gift exchange here in the Philippines with the DART team of ~30 people. The lack of planning for said event, as well as to a dearth of time and being in a recovery-stage town, limited the gift ideas.
We had ten packages of survival food: protein bars, pasta, Gatorade powder... passing unnecessary goods from one teammate to another. Coming here, we tended to pack for the worst case scenario, which has thankfully not materialized.
Battling for supremacy were ten almost identical #Tingdog Tacloban t-shirts ("rise up Tacloban"), which has become the unofficial city slogan in this season. Apparently, everyone individually discovered the secret t-shirt shop two blocks from here.
I bought a hammock, and wrapped it in anticipation of providing an original gift amongst the crowd. My anticipation continued through the full event and then some, being the one gift not claimed by anyone, with a motherly nurse in the crown putting in two gifts just in case someone forgot. Apparently, my wrapping job was utterly unappealing.
I received a handgun, including laser sight and 10 bullets. It's pretty accurate, and has helped me waive down a few taxis, so I'm good.

I returned to the gift box a couple of hours after we finished the Dirty Santa exchange, and my gift was missing. I'm looking out for a horizontally-lounging Westerner, and have my last bullet saved for him.

Texas Roadhouse, Tacloban Franchise

Samaritan's Purse is utilizing the property of the former Oriental Hotel (adjacent to MacArthur Landing Park) as a warehouse storage property. The current state of the property prevents its use for much else.
A few of the kinder-hearted ladies here among the volunteers set up dinner for everyone, along the beach, with carols and prayer.
Dinner was catered by Steve from go-big-or-go-home Houston, Texas, who runs the local Texas Roadhouse. Steve lost a part of his restaurant, all of his Expat customers, but seems to be confident that he'll make it through this intact.
Traditional Christmas dinner: burgers, corn dogs, cole slaw, cucumber salad, onion rings and chocolate cake. Don't forget the Coca Cola.