Maybe because I was young.
I joined a team of volunteer artists to teach an indigenous tribe in Bulacan, Philippines, about expressing their culture through the means of theatre. The one-week immersion included us teaching the kids the entire day and living with our host families, normally the kids’ own families, to learn about their lives.
Being a city-dweller, I remember having snuck in bottles of shampoo and conditioner in my bag for the trip, despite being seriously reminded not to bring anything that can ruin the natural habitat of the village.
As we took turns cleaning ourselves in the local stream, I couldn’t help but use the shampoo and conditioner I brought with me. The kids saw that, for sure. They were also standing nearby, watching young college girls, learning to “shower” in a flowing body of water.
As we learned these kid’s lives, their struggles and their daily issues, with our daily interaction with their community, we slowly realized that they were the ones teaching us about life.
On our last day, right before we boarded our jeepney on the way to the town proper, one kid, my housemate, approached me boldly. “Ate, pwede mo bang iwan nalang yung shampoo mo?” (Older sister, is it possible for you to just leave your shampoo bottle behind?)
I tried to hide my shock, but with the organisers looking on, I took the bottles from my bag and gave her not just the shampoo but the conditioner as well.
