Friday 6th December
It is 4.30am, the rain has gone and it is already hot. At 5am I could just see a small boat one hundred yards off the beach. I joked that this was our boat and everybody laughed... but it turned out to be true! We waded out to it for the short journey to the island of Hilantagaan.
This is clearly a poor community but a proud one. Of 847 houses on the island only seven are undamaged, with houses tilted on their sides, houses flattened completely and most roofs gone. But what pride they have. It seemed that the whole village was up and busy with a team of ladies, young and old, sweeping the road and the sandy beach. As far as possible, everything is meticulously clean and tidy and again the smiles and welcome - all the more startling in the face of such ruin. A main source of income and food is fishing. Of the 300 boats of the islanders, 48 were damaged and 4 destroyed.
We met the Barangay Captain, a young man voted into office just one month ago. His full-time job is to be the organiser, decision-maker and all-round boss of the community. This works throughout the Philippines meaning that everyone belongs to a small community. In the cities a barangay may cover a few streets, but it means that there is some immediate, local structure and point of reference. Not an easy job since most Barangay Chiefs receive only an honorarium. This young man gave up a job in Cebu as a security guard and now he faces making the decisions for the survival of his community.
We went to the local primary school, with no roofs and three classrooms completely destroyed. There were classes today under tarpaulin sheets for 825 shy, laughing Filipino children. Not too many discipline problems there! After all the poultry yesterday, I noticed many cockerels in the village. Some were roaming free, some were tethered and some locked in very confining spaces. Were they for meat or trading ? No, for cockfighting. They are increasingly confined and limited so as to raise their frustration and make them more aggressive. It seemed to me such a strange "sport" for such a gentle people. Yet it draws big crowds and betting is rife.
We left the island about 10am and fortunately there was some tarpaulin in the tiny boat to shade us. And now I am turning towards home. From Hilantagaan island back to Santa Fe, then the ferry back to Polambato on the northern tip of Cebu Island and then the drive to Cebu City in time for the flight to Hong Kong and on to London. We have to be back at the airport in less than ten hours from now and, given the unpredictability of ferry times and traffic, that makes one of two of the group quite nervous. I write this on the white sandy beach of Santa Fe on Bantayan island, an excellent holiday choice in better days.
We had quite a storm on the ferry trip back to Polambato, with very dark skies for just about half an hour, and heavy rain; then it was over and the heat intensified. Most people here travel in little open buses, with all the heat, or on one of the very many bicycles and motorbikes. It cannot make for comfortable traveling, particularly in the long traffic jams. I was pleased to have a good conversation with Agnes, on the boat. I know very little about South Korea but the Church seems to be alive and well, with about 10% of the fifty million population. Apparently it was never mission territory. It was Korean students, studying in China, who brought the faith back to Korea.
The group had a last meal together just before we split up. Agnes is returning to Seoul, Korea and Mark to Belgium. Alistair is on his way to Switzerland, Morris to Maynooth, Ireland. Mark, Paul, Matthew and I are all destined for London. Yvonne remains here for ten more days, Julian for two months and Roman, the Ethiopian lady, lives here permanently working for Caritas. Mark, of Caritas New Zealand, came to see us off. These are impressive people, driven by a sense of justice and of generosity. It seems quite unbelievable that we have only been here four full days. We have done a lot and certainly had long days. Jim Murphy left us on Wednesday evening, but that feels like several days ago, just as our arrival seems well over a week away.
Meantime, I have the thirteen hour flight back to London. We touch down at 5am on Saturday morning - just in time to get on court for my regular slot of racquetball! I hope you have found this diary of some interest. END OF DAY SIX.
