SULADS STORIES

What Christian Education Did for Me

by Cristita Bandalan Garnado

Missionary to Balambangan Mission School

 

            My father was much feared in our tribe.  A chief in his own right in the village of Palakapakan, nobody would dare break his word.  He was a headhunter and the fiercest among his brothers.  His brothers joined him in headhunting causing bloody tribal conflicts.  At that time other villages often attacked our village.  I remember, one night when we were attacked that we groped in the dark as we ran for our lives and taking cover in the bush.

            I can’t forget also the time when I was a small girl, my father would hide by our window with his bow and arrows.  Aiming at passersby, he shot the arrow, and whenever somebody was hit especially on the leg, he would enjoy laughing especially when the victim, crawls in pain.  He seemed to enjoy this as a game.

            He was known as notorious killer. Wherever he went, he would kill wild animals or humans.  He divided the corpse in pieces and would place the head in one village the  left hand in a forest, the other hand in another place, and so on with the rest of the pieces of the body scattered around.  This left the bereaved crazy and furious searching for the pieces to assemble them.

            In our home, he roared like a lion and we, his children, trembled before him.  Mother couldn’t do anything either.  There seemed to be no way to change my father.

            Most of the time, we tended a little farm between our village of Palakapakan and the village of Da-o and we watched daily as children from our village would pass by our hut to attend school in Da-o.  Then one day student missionaries from Mountain View College came to our village.  They said, “we came to teach your children how to read and write and many more things.  This seemed strange to my father and he showed little interest.  He was cold in welcoming the missionaries. The people in the village were happy for the good news that a school would be built and two teachers would stay in the village.

            I could hardly wait for the school to start.  The villagers, except my father, helped the student missionaries build the school.  Children and women helped gather cogon grass for roofing, while men gathered sticks and lumber.  It just took us a week to finish our school.

            Even though my father did not want us to attend school, I kept begging and finally he reluctantly agreed.

            Our new teachers’ ways were strange.  They didn’t smoke like the lowlanders we knew.   They sang a lot to the tune of the guitar they brought.  At the sound of the bell we gathered every morning and evening to listen to our teachers tell stories from a big roll of pictures.

            School was fun.  We learned many things in school.  What I loved most were the stories from the Bible, reading, writing, drawing, and singing.

            The teachers hardly knew me because, shyly I would hide in a corner but would listen attentively to the stories.  The teachers never knew that secretly I had learned to admire them because of their being kind and good examples as missionaries.  This led me to dream to be a missionary teacher someday.  I did the best I could in my studies.  I took the government’s placement test and I passed it. 

            Although my father did not want me to go, the student missionaries arranged for a Seventh-day Adventist sponsor for me to attend high school.  I feared my father would not let me go but since my mother wanted us to attend, he eventually agreed.  I lived with the sponsor and did house chores while attending high school.

 
            As I visited at home from time to time, I sensed that my father was happy for my presence but he just kept quiet.  I later learned that he was happy to see the changes in me.  I observed that my father’s prejudice against the student missionaries was diminishing.  When the five of us children wanted to be baptized, our father did not resist but gave his permission. 

In March of 1988, I invited my father to attend my high school graduation.  He came and stood proudly with a glowing face.  When we went home that day, my father asked to be baptized.  Dr. Bernabe Atiteo, now Vice President for Student Affairs at MVC, baptized him. What a miracle that was when his life was transformed by the Holy Spirit.  He was the last to be baptized in our family.

I later got a privilege to study at Mountain View College.  With that opportunity, I worked hard to fulfill my dream.  Finally I achieved it with a major in Elementary Education.

            I promised my Lord and myself, that because the missionaries gave their lives for me and my Manobo brothers and sisters, I would also give my life to go back to my own people who have not been reached yet by the gospel.

            I, together with my husband and child, am now a current missionary to my own people in Upper Balambangan.  My sister also finished college and is now married and teaching in an Adventist elementary school.