This is not a book about running away. It’s about the years you have left, and where they’re warmest.
I didn’t come to the Philippines to be brave. I came because I’d run out of other ideas, and
because a plane ticket cost less than one more winter of being a line on somebody’s to-do list.
What I found here I couldn’t have planned for — women and men our age, seen again, useful again,
looked in the eye by strangers who had no reason to be kind and were kind anyway.
So now I sit with these women on their porches and write down what they tell me — the mornings they
cried, and the doctor who charged them twelve dollars and forty-five minutes both. The pretty videos
lie to you. I’m not going to. If you only came for the numbers, they’re all in here. But read one
story first. It will still be true when you come back to the arithmetic.