HIDDEN VILLAGE
By Ricky Serrato
Katalawan Mission
School
May, 2000
After the most trying time of the killing of Datu Hudasan
and two NPA leaders by a lowlander (see story about Joscoro),the people of
Katalawan Village scattered themselves into the forest. We SULADS missionaries were left in their
abandoned village not knowing what to do nor where to go. The almost completed school building can no
longer be used. Nor more singing! No more morning and evening worship with the late datu announcing, gathering,
and encouraging the villagers. “Now what
shall we do?” I asked.
It is a practice in their culture that if anyone dies in the
village, especially a tragic death like that of their datu, they abandon the
village. They believe that some bad luck
will claim more lives if they insist on staying. They will wait for ten or more years before
they will return to their abandoned village.
As for our case, they won’t welcome us to be with them in
the forest because we would be a burden to them. They are every ready with their bows, arrows,
and spears because they were threatened by NPAs suspecting foul play in the
death of their slain commanders. They
live like half awake chickens, always holding their weapons.
We took shelter in the neighboring village of Tacucon. The villagers of Katalawan had at one time
sent their children to the Tacucon Mission School before the SULADS established
a mission school in Katalawan. From time
to time, the villagers contact us when they come down to the village. One day, they told me that they were making a
new village hidden in the forest. The
new long-haired chief, Datu Balintinaw came to the village one day to see
us.
“It is good that we met again, Maestro,” he exclaimed. He hugged me tight as his eyes were misty. “Please come with me, Sir,” he pleaded. “I need your company to see the Mayor to have
our new village registered under him directly.”
We met with the Mayor and got his consent and support. Datu Balintinaw decided to settle his people
in a village again. He took the advice
of the Mayor to remain calm, gather together in a village and report to him any
problem they might encounter. The
courage of the datu was revived.
We climbed up mountains, over streams, through forests,
crossing over more streams, and inched our way up rock cliffs. We clung to protruding roots and small stable
rocks. One would get lost on the way as
there is no trail. Many times the trail
went through the streams where no footprints could be visible. One must be very careful of the footing, as
one slip would send one crashing down the mountainside where one would be
smashed to pieces in the deep ravine.
Inch by inch we laboriously and carefully, we stepped on not so loose
rocks. We found we had to help each
other by grasping each other’s hand as we climbed up. Splashes of water fell down on us from the
top soaking our clothing until we reached the village. Leeches clung to our bodies and had to be
removed one by one leaving behind drops of blood. Giant virgin timber grow in
the area towering to the sky. There was
a cool breeze and because of the tall trees, one seldom sees the sun near the
ground.
Eventually we reached the village. New huts made of sticks and the bark of trees
stood like mushrooms in the newly cut woods.
What a sight!. When the children
learned we were there, the came running to us with hugs and tears of joy. “Thank you, Sir! You’re back!” they chorused. “We thought no teacher would ever come this
far at the risk of his life to visit us.”
“We are your missionary teachers,” we assured them. “Wherever you are, whatever the situation, we
will live with you.” They all wiped away
their joyful tears.
We had worship that evening and once again the forest
vibrated with heavenly music. “Why did
you come to this highest mountain and most difficult place to reach?” I started
my message with a question.
“This is a hidden place, Sir. It is secure from our enemies.”
“What if the NPAs find out that you are here and they come? What will you do?” I asked.
“We will not kill them,” one leader of the youth
answered. “If we kill, God will curse
us. Only in God can we trust,” he
said.
Praise God for the change in their hearts. “Wherever we are in this world, we will
always have enemies. The only safe place
on this earth is where Jesus is,” I stressed.
“Whether we are here or in our old village we abandoned,
when we continue to sing and pray and serve Him only, the Lord will send His
angels to keep us safe. Please stay and
leave us no more, Sir” they pleaded.
“Please continue to pray for our safety.”
No comments:
Post a Comment