Bulalang
by Muriel Heppel
November 30, 1999
Dear Son,
Please sit down and make
yourself comfortable as I have an experience to relate which happened last
Sabbath.
Dad was up. “What time is it?, I asked.
“Thanks”, I answered and then
snuggled deeper under the covers. The
alarm would go off at 3:30 a.m. and I could easily be ready by 4 a.m. for our trip to Bulalang.
Later, I squinted at the
clock. Horrors! No alarm and the clock registered 3:40
a.m. Dressing quickly, I took my sack
lunch from the fridge, the bottle of water from the freezer and putting the
flashlight and things into the backpack, I was ready for the jeep.
Two jeep loads left the
college check point at 4::15 a.m. and we were on our way. I sat in the back with Mr. Panes and Albert,
our Manobo guide, for we were going to his village. We were in the uncovered “rumble seat” and so
could see the starry heavens as we drove along.
I spotted the constellation of Orion and recalled that Inspiration has
predicted Christ’s return through there.
The Giant Dipper made me feel not so far away from you, as you can see
it also. Venus was brilliant and Mars
kept blinking at us. The sky was so
beautiful an unclouded.
We passed through Governor
Fortich’s ranch as it is a shortcut. At
the exit, Mr. Panes informed the guard that we’d open and close the gate. But no, he came out from his post with his
pistol in case of any trouble.
The closer we came to the
mountains, the lighter the sky became.
We passed rice paddies--some ready to harvest, some just planted and
some being cut. People go to work very
early in the Philippines.
We began climbing when we
reached the mountains. We passed many
barrios and sitios, drove over 11 Baily bridges (like over the Valemount Rivers
long ago) and crossed 11 creeks or rivers.
At river # 7 we waited while a jeepney on the other side got
underway. It was loaded with sacks of
rice, the customers sat on the roof and a juge black pig was hanging by his
feet at the back doorway.
We turned to watch the second
jeep cross when we were on the opposite bank.
The water was over their tires and sloshed onto the floor of the
vehicle.
At one place we drove in the
river water for about 1/4 mile. It was a
case of up, down, and around to the next crossing.
After four hours of driving
through beautiful terrain, corn planted to the hilltops, sugar cane fields,
winding rivers, and bumpy roads--we came
to the end of the road--high up in nowhere!
There was a Manobo village and people were very friendly. We met the Datu (Chief) and tten our guide led the way for our three
hour hike.
First off we had to cross a
river. I left my shoes on, rolled up my
pants legs and plowed in. For a short
while the path was level. We came to a
stream--what to do? No bridge. We followed the leader through and
then up the bank and through a jungle area.
Carabaos had been ahead of us and it was the rainy season anyway so the
path was deeply muddy and indented.
You would have laughed to
have seen your mother balancing across small logs, sliding down riverbanks,
being hauled up on the other side and in general having a great time. The men on our trip were exceedingly
helpful. We really could not have gotten
along without them.
We were late for church
services so our lunches were eaten while we rested. Later we peeked into the classrooms. Grade 1 room had one small bench which could
seat 3 for 30 students, ranging in age from 6 to 13 years. A few pictures were on the wall and a
blackboard. Period. The other classrooms had no desks or seats of
any kind--I guess they sat on the dirt floor.
The dormitories need new
roofs for the sky peeks in. The
cafeteria needs a new floor and cookhouse.
The student missionaries had only been there two weeks. but they had
done a great deal of work. A garden plot
had been dug, flowers and shrubs planted round, weeds cut back, the outhouse
put in order, and a small cookhouse was by the girls’ dormitory.
\the young children sang for
us and could they sing--in English and in their dialect. Dr. Webb preached the sermon in the
afternoon. The church was filled--young
wigglers on the front seats, older ones in the middle and young eligibles took
the back sets.
Many pictures were taken of
the Manobos in their distinctive costumes.
The women have pierced ears and a necklace of beads hangs from the ears
causing the holes to become quite large.
(I will model the costume of a Manobo woman when I’m home and Dad will
wear his Manobo shirt.)
The mountains surround this
barrio completely. The flat valley is
large. At one time the airstrip was
through the middle of the barrio.,
Houses line the airstrip for some distance and it is a clean place. Christian places are easy to spot.
The mission has not had a
school there for several years but the church services have always
functioned. When n church, one little
girl kept staring at Mrs. Webb and me. I
guess she had never seen a white person before.
She managed to sit on the windowsill and watch us. Then she stood up to have a better look--always
with a wary expression on her face.
Mr. Panes sat on the
dormitory steps and had a picture book of Daniel and his three friends. How absorbed they were to see the coloured
pictures and hear the story. A camel? What was that?” of course, they have never seen one. He is a superb story teller.
Mrs. Lonergan, an 83 year young missionary had been one of our group. It was decided that we would take the “shortcut” over the mountain and she would go by horseback. If it only took one hour to go up and over, we were for it!
She and her guide went ahead
and we followed at a slower pace. The
mountain had not looked so high but when we started to climb--that was a
different story. The lower part wasn’t
so bad but when it became steeper, Wilmer Balbein, an academy teacher, gave me
his hand and literally hauled me up.
Three times I stopped to catch my breath and give my racing heart a
rest. Traveling along the crest of the
mountain was not so bad but descending presented another challenge. It began to rain and the muddy path was
slick. My shoes were nearly sucked under
the goo but I pulled them out each time.
By this time, it began to get
dark, fortunately I had brought my flashlight which I gave to Albert, the
Manobo guide, who was helping me over boulders.
The path had become like a dry water-fall. Rocks were all sizes and shapes and where to
put your feet was a problem. I blindly
followed him. There was no use in
resting as we had to get down somehow. I
kept praying, “Lord help me.” And He
did. We finally reached the bottom and
there was the river to cross. It was
deeper because of the rain and was up to our knees. At the bank, Albert hauled me up for the last
time.
When I was the lights of the
jeep, believe me, I was happy! Wet and
cold as I was, I knew I could sit down.
I was soaked to the skin. My
teeth were chattering so hard I had to clench my teeth. My knees were shaking so hard my feet were
tapping the floor. My pink sweater was
sopping wet (my pink sweater was the object which Mrs. Webb watched, as we came
down the mountain, for she couldn’t see the path as it was so dark).
Later, when we asked Mrs.
Lonergan how they had managed coming down that trail she told us the
saddle had broken. The horse neither
stumbled, nor slid. Now that has to be a
miracle!
That trail took us two hours
instead of one hour. But our journey was not over. We were still 90 kilometers from MVC.
The rain continued to
pour. All was blackness except the
shining jeep lights on the road. We had
crossed through 11 rivers going but coming back, I kept counting more. I kept praying, “Don’t let us get lost,
Lord.” We were out in the
hinterland--”boonies” we call it. If we
took a wrong turn, who knows where we would be and if we ran out of gas--Oh,
My!
Mr. Lachica later told us we
had crossed the same river 32 times coming back (11 times going up). When we passed the dam, I knew we were on the
right road. Weary hours later we arrived
home. A trip I would not have missed!
The student missionaries are
courageous young people for the Lord--working under adverse and stressful
situations. They will be successful as
they are trusting in the One Who knows no defeat.
You really have never lived
until you experience a trip like we had.
When you come it must be during the dry season though. Bring good walking shoes!
Our Love and Prayers,
Dad and
Mom
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