By Joseph Cabrera
III Marine Expeditionary Force Public Affairs
SOUTHWEST ASIA - At the age of 24, I joined the Marine Corps thinking that I had a pretty good grasp of the world and what to expect in the corps. All of this I based on my experiences growing up in Joliet, Ill., a small speck in the world nestled southwest of Chicago, which didn't lend itself to giving me knowledge of either topic.
I joined with high hopes of being a war hero, fighting the good fight, living in unpleasant conditions, forging bonds through shared hardship, and to my dismay, I haven't experienced any of it yet.
Like a fantasy, I imagined throwing grenades, covering the Marine to my left and right, saving the world from evil and walking around as an ace of hearts when I returned home, living and breathing the myths and legends that epitomize the Marine Corps and combat to so many people.
Coming into the Marine Corps, I never thought about all the non-combat missions Marines conduct, such as disaster relief, community relations and civil assistance projects.
Visiting schools and orphanages in distant countries and spending time with children wasn't something I considered when I raised my right hand.
The Talon Vision '09 exercise has played a key role in changing my outlook on the Marine Corps and Navy, and it made me realize how much good can come from just showing you care.
I went to the Philippines thinking I would learn what it is like to practice my occupation on a deployment in the field. However, what I didn't expect was to learn about the world or myself.
By spending time in the barangays (neighborhoods) at medical and dental civil action projects, where U.S. Navy doctors and dentists worked with their counterparts in the Armed Forces of the Philippines to provide care to people who cannot afford it, I learned about what it means to be alive and how to appreciate everything I have.
I witnessed thousands of people flood the temporary medical and dental clinics set up by Philippine and U.S. Marines and sailors. The care most people take for granted back home is what draws neighborhoods of people to these types of events, even if they have to wait for hours in the heat to receive it.
I saw adults and children get multiple teeth pulled then smile because their pain was alleviated. I also saw people treated for illnesses, from minor to serious, given the care they needed to get back to health, or referred to specialists who may be able to provide further treatment.
I even went to the homes of some of these people and saw firsthand the conditions in which they lived. I wondered what it would be like for me to leave behind a life of luxury in the U.S. to live as they do.
I was surprised to see the home of a Filipina who gave birth to her sixth child in a one-bedroom house with no electricity or plumbing and a stone floor.
I was amazed at how people with so few material possessions and no medical and dental care available to them, could be so genuinely happy and hospitable with so little, when a dead iPod battery is enough to ruin my day.
It made me think about myself, my family, friends and the Marines I know who won't get to see and experience what I did. It made me think about how many people I know who would never consider visiting these places because they don't want to see less fortunate people or concern themselves with the problems of others.
After all, we all have big problems throughout the world, someone's service is bad at a drive-thru, someone's Internet connection is too slow, someone's flight is delayed, and someone with health insurance is upset about having to sit for an hour in an air-conditioned doctor's office waiting room with a TV.
Interacting with the people made me evaluate my own mindset about why I'm rarely happy with anything.
I spent time with the children and adults talking, joking and laughing. The children were genuinely happy and playful, and the community shared a bond that I have yet to see in the U.S.
Groups of children would ask for autographs from Marines and sailors who couldn't understand why the children would want their autograph. Maybe in the U.S. or Okinawa, we are just service members who are a dime a dozen. But in the barangays, we were treated like rock stars.
I wasn't there to provide services to the Philippine communities like many of the Marines and sailors—I was there to tell the story.
I am confident that those children, when they hear the title Marine, will remember the Marines and sailors who came there to help, and in the end we parted as friends.
Most of all this deployment made me think about how much better the people of America would be if they could simply witness what I saw, the genuine sincerity and joy of life in conditions most Americans consider unbearable.
To see a group of people whose happiness and mental well-being is not affected by material possessions, made me think about what I want out of life.
I now understand that having family, friends and an appreciation for the life I'm given is what's most important. Like the Marine Corps, people can do so much with so little, if they have to.
I wonder what the future holds for me, and I certainly wonder what the Philippines will aspire to be in the years to come.
I wonder if I have changed, but more importantly, I wonder what I was meant to learn on this journey. I look forward to returning at the first opportunity and possibly living there someday.
I didn't go there by choice. I went there as part of my job, but I think it was definitely the eye-opening experience I needed to better understand what is really important in life. Above all, I learned that we are only as happy as we choose to be.