Tuesday, September 11, 2012

CHOPPED TO DEATH
By Romel Mansaloon
Lapangon Mission School
Lapangon Mission School villagers, the once most feared group of the Manobos for their being bloody warriors are now baptized SDA believers.  They now gather every morning and evening for village worship.  During the last baptism, the vice-chief had his bolo (machete) baptized with him symbolizing the end of using it for killing.  After the baptism, he gathered all the warriors with all their blood stained bolos for a picture.  After that, the bolos will be good only for display and no longer kill.
 
A church was built to hose the whole village for worship.  It was planned that it would be a two-story building.  The second floor would be two classrooms and the ground floor will house the church.  We started the project with a budget from the Thirteenth-Sabbath Offering for SULADS Jungle Chapels.  Our SULADS Director, Daryl Famisaran, hired an experienced carpenter to supervise the construction with the trust that he would be of help and shine as he was also known as an SDA member.

He indeed helped a little in the construction but caused much damage to the village people.  This approximately 60-year-old carpenter seemed to want to help and offered to send a 10 year old girl to formal school in San Fernando.

He arranged with the parents, gave them some gifts off food so that they would give the 10-year-old away.  He was successful and brought the girl with him to his home.  The carpenter’s wife was also happy to have a girl at home.  They arranged to enroll the girl to a nearby school.  The wife treated the gild as one of her grand children.  She bought school materials for her and was very happy with the girl.  The girl always wore a smile showing her dimples.  She was just a happy little tyke.  She sings beautifully and the neighbors gathered around to listen to her sing.  She was loved by the children of the neighborhood.

One day, however, they noticed that she was sad.  She was no longer the same smiling, singing little girl.  Nobody knew what ordeal she was going through.  The wife noticed that she wanted to go with her wherever she goes.  She did not want to be home while the wife went out.  “You should stay home,” the wife would scold her.  “I have to meet appointments and you need to stay home.”  So the girl had no choice but to stay home with the carpenter.  He beloved Lapangon home was too far away and she couldn’t go home alone.  School was to start in June but it was only April.

The girl’s life was getting worse everyday.  One day, she saw one of the lady student missionaries in town.  Clasping her hand, she started to cry.  She said, “Ma’am, I want to go home.  Please help me go home,” she cried.  “I need to go home.  I don’t want to stay with that old carpenter anymore.”

Something must be the matter.  Something must be wrong, the student missionary was certain.

And so it was that the girl pleaded with the carpenter’s wife to visit home because she missed her folks.  It was good that she consented and the carpenter accompanied her as the two of them went on that long eight-hour hike through the jungle.  I was surprised to see the girl home in the mission school.  Everybody noticed that she kept her distance from the carpenter.  She kept telling everybody that she would not return with the carpenter.  This seemed strange.  At first she was happy that she could get a formal education and she was the one urging her parents to send her with the old carpenter.  Now she was hiding so that she would not go back with him. 

 The time came when they were supposed to leave but we could not find the girl.  We searched the village but she was nowhere to be found.  The parents promised the carpenter that they would send her in time for the start of school.  The girl came out of hiding after the carpenter left.   

“Sir,” she started to cry.  I was sure there must be something very wrong.  Why would she behave like this?
 
“Tell me, Girl.  Tell me.  Don’t ever hid anything from me.”

 “I’m afraid, Sir,” she continued to sob.  “Please don’t tell my parents.  I’m afraid they will kill me.”

“Yes, I promise I won’t tell them.  Only tell me everything.  OK?”
 
“Sir.”  There were sobs and a long pause.  I waited.  “That beast old man carpenter raped me.”  She continued to sob.  My heart broke.  I joined her in tears.  This girl had been my very good pupil.  She is talented.  She had been dreaming of going to college and now she feels wretched.  Telling her parents would be bad because, according to their culture, she would be chopped to death by her parents because now she had been contaminated with sin from the lowland.  The rapist should also be chopped to death with her.

I was gritting my teeth.  I was angry.  I went to Mountain View College and told Sir Daryl, our Director of the SULADS, about it.  We had the girl examined and the medical examination revealed that indeed she had been penetrated and she was in very bad shape.  We filed the case and by now the judge should have issued the arrest warrant for him.  We will pursue the case to give due justice to the girl. 

Meanwhile, the people of Lapangon have sensed the big problem.  To the, justice is in their hands using their bolos.  It is well that I had escaped from Lapangon with her and she is now in the Director’s custody.  To the villagers, any lowlander including the SULADS student missionaries are their enemies until the problem is solved.  Innocent lowlanders who wonder into the forest are prey to these deploying bloody head-hunters and anytime the blood would flow again.  This would cause a big problem in the municipality.

The SULADS, who are always on their knees during smooth times, are now doubling their praying time during this most trying hour.  It was so timely that the missionaries were on the campus of MVC for a two week long seminar when the incident took place and there were safe.  We could not send the missionaries back because of this danger.  This would mean that five mission school in the area would have to be closed.

Providentially, the chief, together with four other warriors came to MVC to see our director to settle the matter.  He said, “You educated us with the light of truth.  You don’t kill but we used to do it.  Now my bolo was already baptized with me.  But this big problem urges us to kill again.  This would include you and your missionaries because you were the ones who sent that beast carpenter.  Now, I beg you, please don’t let it happen that we will kill again.”

“I’m sorry, Chief, for the mess,” our director pleaded. 

“My people especially the father of the girl are crying for the blood of the rapist.  We want him killed according to our tribal law.”

“I’ll take care of that,” Sir Daryl assured him.  “We will have him killed by our law to be processed in court.”

“Yes, that is good by my people are crying to kill him now or else many more will be included.”

 “What do you want me to do, Chief?” Sir Daryl asked.

“We need a peace offering.  Two pesos and one peso,” came the reply.  This meant Twenty thousand pesos and a carabao.  Although it was a large amount, it was small when we considered the lives of our missionaries.  Our director was able to arrange for a carabao peace offering only minus the Twenty thousand pesos.  They agreed for a carabao and a sack of rice.

The carabao was brought to the village, tided to a post, and the first one to strike the carabao with a bolo was the girl’s father.  They were in a rage.  Shouting with anger, each villager, with a bolo, shopped the poor innocent animal to death.   

“Maestro!” the chief shouted.  “Here is a bolo, you chop your share.”  So I made a chop at the carabao with the bolo.  Then the bolo was handed to my partner and he also chopped the carabao.  Even the children took their turns at chopping up the beast.  What a terrible sight! 

The chief said the carabao represented the rapist beast carpenter. 

The incident is not over yet.  The chief will come back to Sir Daryl to ensure that the beast rapist is captured and killed and if not there will be a bigger problem to solve.   

When I saw that carabao chopped up, I saw in my mind’s eye, the image of Jesus spilling His blood for me, for you, and for those Manobos in Lapangon.  Please continue to pray for us.

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