Negros Occidental

The flight into Manila was smooth and rather uneventful. In fact, thankfully, we even managed to get all of our luggage – and on time. After retrieving our bags and going through customs, we proceeded outside to meet up with our contact Mhel from Singles for Christ. The only problem was, Mhel was no where to be found. We scoured the crowd and the various placards on display. None of them said “Josh” or “Brooke” or “Josh and Brooke” or “Brooke and Josh” etc. By this time, the street was filled with people, all looking for a contact or cab. I must’ve bled, “Westerner in need of assistance” because within a few minutes, two different security guards and a woman, who appeared to be an airport maid of sorts, offered to help us find our contact or assistance with the phone. The cop gave me seven pesos to make a phone call. Still, no Mhel. Eventually, the woman whom I perceived to be a maid allowed me to use her cell phone to contact Emma Randall, our primary contact from Heart of the Father. Finally, some sort of contact. Emma informed me that Mhel was trying to text her and told her that he is on his way. About that time, Mhel arrives. Brooke yells over, “Josh, here’s a guy with a placard that says ‘Josh’.” Bingo.

Mhel (pictured above) is friendly and eager to meet us. He’s in his late 20’s and his nonchalant approach to life is particularly typical here in the Philippines. There’s simply no rush. On the one hand, it’s rather refreshing. On the other, it’s probably been the toughest adjustment coming from a region of the world that is fast-paced, that places emphasis on the transaction in a relationship and prioritizes punctuality and efficiency above all else.

Mhel, Brooke and I called for a cab and made our way to our condo downtown. Mind you, it’s about 11 pm at this time and everything’s dark. It’s extremely humid and has been raining for about 3 weeks on and off. The drive through Manila was exciting and contradictory to the rest of Filipino culture. Everyone drives like a New York cab driver here. It’s almost as if they’ve adopted the “hurry up and wait” approach to life. Anyway, we arrive to our condo which ends up being in one of the more upscale portions of the city. As Mhel puts it, “where all of the money is made.” We settle in, unpack our bags, and go to 7-11 for some siopas (see picture).

The next morning, we went out to breakfast at Jollibee – the Filipino version of McDonald’s – with everything from burgers and chicken to traditional local food such as beef tapas and garlic rice. After breakfast, we returned back to the condo, cleaned up and headed off to Manila’s domestic airport. Mhel had to go to work early that day so, we told him just to take us to the airport when he went and we’d wait there until our flight for Bacolod City. At 4:30 PM we headed out and were on our way to our new home.

We arrived at the Bacolod City airport around 6 PM Saturday and finally met our contact, Emma Randall. Emma said, “I looked at all of the people waiting for the luggage and saw this head towering above all the rest. I though ‘that must be Josh’.” She knew we were exhausted so, in typical Filipino style, she drove us to our new house as quickly as possible – with one short stop along the way for chicken BBQ. Bacolod City is renowned for their chicken BBQ and I can now attest to its greatness.

We finally arrived to our new home. We live on the lefthand side of the building pictured above and have a bedroom, bathroom and a kitchen/living room area. It’s much more than we expected and we were pleasantly surprised. AC and a warm shower, what more do you need? Shortly after arriving we headed off to a party, yes a party. It was a wonderful birthday celebration for a fourteen year old girl in our neighborhood. The sense of community here is marvelous and is to be commended. There, we met several wonderful people who all made us feel at home. The fed us, took us in, cared for us, and treated us like part of their family. There, we met Ricky Lacson. Tito Ricky not only owns our subdivision but is the head of productivity for GK and has a heart for bringing the rich face to face with the poor with expectations of poverty being alleviated. He is a well respected member of the community here and seems to make friends easily, whether it is with the rich or poor. Oh, and he was educated at Philadelphia’s own LaSalle University – bonus points Ricky, bonus points. After the party, it was home and to sleep.

The next day, we intended to attend church with Emma but jet lag has a funny way of knocking you off your feet at a moments notice. Brooke and I woke up around 5 am, were up for 3 hours, and woke up again around 12:30pm. Weird. Emma and her 3 curious daughters Deborah, Anna and Ellie arrived with lunch. They brought their friends Ben (left, with Emma in the background) and Joe (below, flanked by Anna, Deb and Ellie), two ornery young men, along from church. Needless to say, with 5 youngsters in the house now, Brooke and I were awake whether we wanted to be or not.

Skipping ahead to Monday. A group of us headed out to a few of the village sites today. Admittedly, it was hard. The children were enthralled with us. Many of the young boys would climb steps in an attempt to become eye level with me. The children were beautiful. I now know what Jesus means when he says whoever does not receive the kingdom of God as a little child will never enter it. Amidst their poverty, they smiled, laughed, played in the street and were simply alive. The life in their eyes was unlike anything I had ever seen. Their innocence was contagious. But they were also hungry.

We were welcomed into one of the villager’s homes. I counted her and 8 children living in a space, no bigger than a few hundred square feet. She was holding her youngest daughter Ariel. Ariel must’ve been a year old, tops, and she had big beautiful brown eyes. I held her hand and pinched her cheek in an attempt to get her to smile. I think she was a bit in awe of us as she had probably never seen someone’s head almost hit the roof of her house before.

As we made our way though the village, we found out that several of the fishing boats had been destroyed by the bad storm the night before. Without fishing, they have no source of income. GK is working to develop alternative sources of income – easily sustainable micro-businesses within the villages so that fishing is not their only means of subsistence. We noticed, at one point, Emma was lagging behind a bit. She was surrounded by the villagers. She came to learn that many of them had not eaten for 7 days. She bought them all food, mainly rice. Again, because the fishing has been so poor due to the weather, it has been even more of struggle to eat than normal.

As we left the village, Ricky began immediately talking about chicken BBQ. It caught me off guard a bit as we had just come from the worst poverty I had ever seen. I thought, “How can they be so numb?” Well Ricky and Paulo, one of the other GK workers, apparently picked up on our silence and explained the desensitization that most of them have undergone. They see it everyday. Ricky explained, “These are the poorest of the poor.”

As I thought about what he said, strangely a part of me became envious. Not of the poverty, the starvation, the combined stench of human waste with the salt water of the Pacific, but of the humility and curiosity with which they approached life. They were the image of God not yet corrupted by the ravenous quest for mammon. They were lives uninfluenced by the powers of consumerism and a market-driven economy. Their quest was for their daily bread, nothing more. They are those whom Jesus calls blessed, for theirs is the kingdom of God.