The Tondo District of Manila

I love my job. At this moment in time, there is no other profession I would rather be in. And I adore my class. They think, they make connections, they care. The unit we are studying right now is intense. It is eye-opening. It is shocking and disturbing. And full of opportunity. I love that our inquiry units allow us to “look at the big picture:” to identify, to wonder, to think, to plan and to take action. I was not taught how to teach this way in university. And I was not taught how to teach this way in Las Vegas public schools. And I did not teach this way in Egypt. Over my four years in Manila, though, I have learned and connected with a new way of thinking about teaching. And for that, I will always be grateful for working at ISM, no matter what other frustrations there may be.

This week, I went on an ocular visit to Tondo, a non-profit Preschool-Grade 6 school with 532 students made out of 75 donated shipping containers, set on Smokey Mountain, one of Manila’s largest dumpsites. I went there to meet the school’s principal and discuss opportunities for a field trip, a chance for our students to see where their students “come from.” In conjunction with our Child Rights unit, we have been reading the book Trash by Andy Mulligan, set on the very same dumpsite. We are fortunate that he lives in Manila and has taught at BSM, just across the street. We are also fortunate that he wrote a book about the dumpsite and the kids who live there (having to change names of places in order to protect the reputation of the Philippines). We got to meet him and talk to him about his life as an author and as an advocate for children. We didn’t think it would come together, but we finally got approval for a field trip to the Tondo school, in the exact location of the book’s setting. You can imagine how ecstatic the kids are to go – to physically be in the space that they have been visualizing for weeks.

I can assure them that they will not be disappointed.












Viewing the environment surrounding the Tondo school is what you might expect it to be. As you gaze out of the glassless windows of one of the second-story classrooms, you take in the Pasig River, one of the world’s most polluted waterways. The very same river the government says they are “cleaning.” This suggests that there are “tourist” cruises down the Pasig, and then there are the “real” tours down the Pasig. On the other side of the river is row upon row of shanties – corrugated metal, cardboard, tire and mattress spring “houses” that sit on stilts and lean perilously over the water. Kids bathe in that river. Parents wash their clothes in that river. Its number one pollutant is human waste. Raw sewage. The stench lingers when the wind blows it through the classrooms. If you look the other direction when standing on top of the school’s roof, you view a burning mountain of trash. At first site, the giant hill looks just that: a hill with grass and a few trees growing on top. But on closer inspection, you can see that it is really pile upon pile upon pile of layered trash, mostly plastic, unrecycable waste, that has been dumped, stepped on, picked through, burned and dumped on again. Until it swells into what is now a burning heap of rubbish. People live on top of it. And inside of it. When you drive around the site, you can see these little caves, dark openings where the trash-pickers have burrowed through. These under-trash pathways sometimes collapse. They also provide homes for the poorest of the poor. In yet another direction, you can barely make out Manila Bay, less than a 10-minute walk away. But the air around the shipyards is so polluted that it seems miles in the distance. Just in front of the bay are more squatter villages. All three of these places – the riverside shacks, the dump itself and the shanties by the bay, are where the kids at the Tondo school go home to after their day at school is over. For them, Tondo is their sanctuary because without it, they would be sorting through trash on the dumpsite. They would be child laborers. That is what their parents do and that is all they know.

When the dumpsite school was at a previous location, just a few blocks away, a run-down warehouse with no running water or electricity which was prone to flooding and extreme heat, it had 200 students and an 18% dropout rate. After incentive programs were put in place, such as a food program for good behavior, regular attendance and good hygiene; along with free transportation to and from school, free breakfasts and lunches each day, free uniforms, free vaccinations and free social services, the new site, Tondo, opened in December 2010, tripled its student population and now has a 4% drop-out rate. I was told that the kids felt so much guilt about not helping their families by sorting through the trash and bringing in what meager income they could from doing it that they had to implement these incentives in order to encourage kids to stay in school, where they should be. With the food program, the kids get to bring home canned goods, hygienic products or rice and noodles to share with their families. There is also a livelihood project wherein the parents of these kids can learn a trade while their youngest attend free daycare at the school. These mothers learn to make trash into treasure. Using ring pulls from the top of soda or beer cans, plastic bags, newspapers, juice packs and glossy magazines, they can create handbags, jewelry, wallets, pencil cases, waste paper baskets and pouches. They are trained, given the recycled materials, and encouraged to go home to make these items. They then return them to the school, who sources consumers and stores who wish to sell their products. The women earn between 1500-4000 pesos a week, significantly more than they would sorting through the rubbish heap. All of this, from the school building itself, to the payment of teachers to the social workers and nursing staff to the food program and other incentives to the livelihood project, are only possible through sponsors, pledges and donations of national and international corporations and individuals.

But I’m not writing to ask for donations. I’m writing because this is a positive action being taken by a handful of wonderful people who care very much about those in their community. I’m writing because our unit at school is Child Rights and I see injustices every day in the country that we live. What struck me upon visiting the dumpsite was that these people will never have the simple joy of a clean shower, a cozy bed, nutritious food, pure drinking water, appropriate medical care, physical safety, loving and supportive family structures or any other basic rights that ALL humans deserve. There is no fundamental difference between me and them. We are human. I am simply more fortunate, luckier to have been born into my life. They are simply less fortunate, unluckier to have been born into their lives. But we also see injustices in our own country, in the United States, not only for children, but also for adults, for animals and for the environment. Some people do not think about these injustices. Some people pretend not to see them. But they exist and they will only continue to mount unless more people start taking positive action, right this very moment.

And that’s where our class comes in. The final stage of our unit focuses on taking action. Doing something to inform, persuade and encourage others to act on behalf of a necessary cause. We are visiting the Tondo school next week as a collective grade. And then the task of choosing a meaningful cause (or a need/right that is being infringed upon), based on the other visits, guest speakers and experiences we have had throughout the unit, will be underway. I’m really enthusiastic to see what our kids come up with. I will be posting photos and updates about their Action Projects soon. Stay tuned…

If you are curious what the Philippine Christian Foundation or the Philippine Community Fund (PCF) is all about, I encourage you to check out their website.