At the Peace Corps
Working for peace; finding love
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, 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 Fisheries or 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 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 naïve 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.
Gie and Bruce Best's Story
Part 1 of 2
By Heidi M. Pascual
     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
(Above) Bruce & Gie Best (2007); (Right) Gie & Bruce in 1973.
     "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, 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.
Gie Fule wanted to be  a nun in her youth. It seemed the natural course for her, having attended Catholic schools since childhood to college. In this 1966 photo, Gie poses with Mother Superior Angela Confalonieri.
Homepage
October 2007 Issue