Tuesday, February 16, 1999

JESUIT NOVITIATE: MISSION TRIALS 1999by Frank Savadera, SJ


February 16, 1999 (Tuesday) – MISSION TRIALS

I woke up early in the morning today with my whole body freezing, especially my feet. The weather is surely cold here in Catablaran … almost like the weather in Tokyo. Our guides were all ready to go. We left the place at 7:00AM for a place called UMAYAM. Father Mat initially told us to simply wear our shorts and our pair of slippers. The trip proved to be truly perilous. All in all, the expedition took us 12 hours of walking on rocks, waters and mud. In some cases, we needed to climb steep slopes, hang onto roots and rocks and risk life and limb. And … for what purpose? For exposure? For adventure, perhaps? What am I doing here?, I told myself. Soon, I can already feel the heavy weight of my backpack. I slipped a dozen times. The rocks were ‘danlog’ and their surfaces can sometimes be rough and dangerous, as well. One time, I was hanging onto a rock and looking at the gushing water below me. Then did I realize that I can take this fall and die immediately. But what a painful death, I told myself. At his age, Father Mat was truly remarkable taking things in stride. Father Rich was doing okay, too. The priest was short for an American. One time, while traversing the river, the jolly Father was holding his bag above his head, protecting it from the water. We had a big laugh to eventually see only the bag moving on top of the water. Father Rich’s whole body seemed to have been completely submerged in the not so deep waters.
We took a break for lunch near the meandering river. We passed by beautiful water falls earlier in the morning. The place is very pristine. No tracks and no trails yet except those familiar only to the tribespeople living here. We settled a while to cook our food and waddle in the water. Our guides were cooking rice and fish. We opened some cans of cornbeef. Viola! Lo and behold … from no where, across the river … a local … a white-haired old man … dressed in ‘bahag’ … almost like an Igorot … coming out of the cluster of trees … carrying what looked like a spear. Yes, it was a spear … a real one … the blade even reflecting the light of the noontime sun. Our local guides talked to him … and seemed to convince him … thank God … that we’re good people. After lunch, we continued our walk. Apparently, we needed to rush. It would be more difficult walking in the dark, Father Mat says.
I was getting extremely tired. Eventually, I was telling myself: “Slow down, Frank. No need to rush. Take your time.” After 12 hours, we reached our destination. It was pass 6:00PM. Umayam is not even a town. It’s a settlement of about nine huts and inhabited by 14 families. Datu Hakbangan welcomed us. Everyone was just so tired yet thankful that we survived the ordeal. I am very thankful to Murando, our guide for helping me through the difficult trails and for the times he carried my bag. The tribespeople seemed amused to see us. We were as well, amused to see them.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------

February 17, 1999 (Ash Wednesday) – MISSION TRIALS

I woke up early with the sound of the rooster crowing above my head. We slept in the datu’s house. The place was a two-storey house, with poles to hold the roof. There was hardly any wall to protect us from the cold … and it surely was cold. Everyone stayed on the second floor since the ground floor was more of like an activity area. A simple pole with rough markings served as a ladder. “What am I doing here?,” I was asking myself. My silent crying wouldn’t relieve me of the cold. My legs and feet are still aching and blistered from yesterday’s full day of walking. I can still even feel the terrible cramps on my legs.
Today is Ash Wednesday and what a day to remind me of the frailties of being human. This morning, for a Lenten treat, we were served ‘baki’ (yes … frogs) for breakfast. Sige na lang. Anthropologists would have tried tasting this ‘cultural’ thing. Why wouldn’t I? I moved around the place after breakfast, making sure that I’d derive most meaning from this whole thing. I wandered around the village to see women pounding rice (not the men?), kids running around undistinguished from goats and pigs. And yes … there were plenty of chickens. The lips of men, women and children were already dark from chewing ‘mama’ (nga-nga). There I saw Ben, one of our guides fixing his hut. He introduced his clan ... through Bukidnon and sign language, of course. At least two families stay with him in his small hut. Ben even showed me a priceless possession … a Nike lady’s watch that he wears around his left arm. This place is truly different … yet the people here smile and welcome strangers into their midst. The fog was beginning to disappear when Father Mat signalled for everyone to go. We’ll trek the same route again … yes, for the next 11 hours … through the river, the rocks and the steep slopes. We filled our bottles with drinking water from the river and off we went. This second time around, I was more than sure that I can fully survive this next trip.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------

February 18, 1999 (Thursday) – MISSION TRIALS

Yesterday, we returned to Calacapan and had Ash Wednesday mass with the locals. The service was short … nothing fancy. Everyone seemed comfortable sitting on the wooden improvised benches … some even wearing the local headgears. “Are these people already Catholics?,” I asked. Apparently … they seemed to be. Father Mat said mass in Bisaya. People were very attentive. It was truly fascinating to see people lining up to have their foreheads marked with the cross. In this very isolated place, where I’m sure no city- person would dare and opt to go … the Lord’s presence is very much at work. More, I’m sure can be accomplished by the Spirit in this place … in no time.


---------------------------------------------------------------------------------

February 19, 1999 (Friday) – MISSION TRIALS

Back here in the convento, we celebrated the death anniversary of Father Leoni. Father Mat displayed the late missionary’s photographs and memorabilia in the sala, on a table where a candle was kept lit for the day. Nevertheless, it was work as usual for everybody. In the afternoon, the alagads started coming in. There’ll be a leadership training seminar until tomorrow to be conducted by Karel. The rains likewise started to pour. I was just very thankful that the rains came just now and not yesterday when we were in the mountains.
Now let me see how things will work. Chris and I are supposed to prepare for a recollection that we’re giving to some high-school kids. Hmmm … let me see … who will prepare the module? Sister Claudia already gave us some initial instructions. How would things be? Should I simply prepare on my own ... should I? We'll see.
It was also good to see Kuya Tony around. He’s attending the leadership seminar. He had a hair cut in time for today. There was more of them from Cabuluhan. It was like a reunion. Glad to meet up with everyone again. What a blessed opportunity!

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------

February 20, 1999 (Saturday) – MISSION TRIALS

Whew! Another full day with the high-school kids of Cabuluhan. More than 250 students came for the recollection. No choice … Chris and myself had to divide the group into two. Gaspar, Len-len, Wilma, Nelma and other youngsters from the barrio were around. Sister Claudia, our mentor, was taking a doze while we proceeded with the activities. I can give it to her … for sheer respect for her age. I eventually asked the kids the question: Unsa ang inyong mga damyo (pangarap?) sa inyong kinabuhi? The responses by Laylay, Karen and Ann-ann were truly remarkable. These kids have hope. I just wish that they are all willing to make their wishes come true … regardless …
A male student joined the class … obviously under the influence of alcohol. I can easily smell alcohol from his mouth. The other kids joked that he’s a Muslim. I won’t be surprised, I told myself since this is a public school. But Muslims don’t get drunk, at least in public, as far as I know. He sat near the corner and kept his quiet. I was content enough to know that he was willing to listen to our discussion about our hopes and wishes. I’m praying that he would eventually have his own dreams, too … that is, for his own sake.
We ended the meeting with songs like “Huwag Limutin” and “Huwag Mangamba.” The students easily learned the songs … proof of how appropriate the messages were for them at this particular time. I can only hope that these kids learn to recognize more what they can do … to love themselves more and keep on dreaming.