The Collection of Journals: Poverty in Philippines Essay Example

world I inhabit, discarded trash may appear rusty, discoloured, and ineffective, but it is the most luxurious possession I could hope to find. I spent several hours cautiously scouring for metal to use for my roof, food to eat, paper to sleep on, and anything else that could be useful at home. Despite losing faith, I stumbled upon a grey flip flop which was unsightly with multiple stains and a worn heel, but it was still soft, smooth, and surprisingly comfortable. Though I abandoned hope of finding its mate and was infuriated and grinding my teeth, having one was better than none. Being able to walk with less pain on one foot was truly appreciated as purchasing flip flops at shops or markets cost 50 pesos, which is too expensive for me to consider when prioritizing food for my family.

I couldn't afford comfortable footwear, so I picked up a large piece of metal to hide a hole on my way home. It fit perfectly, but trying to climb on my shanty house would have made it collapse. I long for a real house with traditional brown roofs, oak or pine bed frames, soft mattresses, glass or marble tables, a marble sink with sterling silver taps, clean and hygienic fixed floors, and a consistent water supply. My current scrap metal shanty house is not even suitable for a dog, and the walls still radiate the intense heat from the unforgiving sun.

After injuring my hand during a roof repair, I retrieved the Sampaguita flower garlands that I had worked on for five hours the previous night. These garlands would be offered as gifts to saints during

prayer as a symbol of sacrifice. The flowers looked pristine with their white coloring and fragrant tropical scent. Despite my swollen and tender fingers from creating the garlands, I journeyed to Las Pinas estate to sell them before mass or individual prayers at the church.

Feeling outraged and grinding my teeth, I struggled to earn enough money to provide for my family. My sister has fallen ill, and my elderly grandparents are no longer able to work. Despite this, I summoned the willpower to regain my composure. With my grimy, swollen hands, I dried my tears before entering the church to implore the Lord for strength and assistance in overcoming the challenges of living in an area where 60%-70% of the population struggles. After praying for help, I trudged home exhausted and hungry at 1:00am, battling heavy rainfall that persisted since I left the church.

Upon entering, I hastily procured some salt and applied it to cleanse my body, sores, and hair. Subsequently, I ventured outside to rinse myself in the rain before returning indoors to dry off without dampening anything else. Otherwise, the area where I'll be sleeping will become muddy. It has been several days since my last complete meal. Upon spotting a piece of blue bread infested with mold, I managed to consume it despite its revolting taste which induced gagging. My stomach twisted and contracted resulting in difficulty breathing due to dehydration for three consecutive days; thus prompting me to search for water prior to slumber.

At approximately 2:00 in the middle of the night, I trekked up to Almanza estate clutching two old and grubby plastic buckets with the intention of collecting

water. After waiting for roughly thirty minutes, I approached a brown and rusty pump and began pumping water. The sound of metal grinding against metal was so loud that it seemed to deafen me, but after ten exhausting minutes, my buckets were finally filled. Desperately trying not to spill any water, I carefully made my way back home while feeling as though every step was draining what little energy I had left. Finally arriving at my house, I took time to rest and recuperate before repeating this process again the next morning in order to get enough water for college.

As I sit in this challenging classroom, my discomfort is palpable from the creaky chair beneath me. While tasked with writing an essay on national hero Jose Rizal's life, I am instead tempted to record my thoughts in my personal journal. Unfortunately, while pencils are provided by the college, they cannot be taken home. Despite this obstacle, I am optimistic that a solution will arise and offer gratitude to God for his blessings.