medical mission: Exploring Bayawan

Bayawan --

Went to a private little spring called “The Source”. Apparently during WWII, this spring provided water for families in hiding from the Japanese and provided water for the city of Bayawan for many years after. The land is now privately owned by a prominent family in this area, and they have created a small fresh water swimming area here. Families can picnic, bring their own food, take a swim in the cool fresh water surrounded by one hundred year old trees. It was very peaceful.

Swimming hole at "The Source"

"The Source"

We borrowed a motorcycle from a neighbor and along with my cousins and friends visiting us from Bacolod, we drove to a neighboring barangay (town) called Kalumboyan. This is the location of my mother’s family farm of sugar cane, rice, and mango trees. This little village is approximately 15km, across a mountain range that was fully equipped with waterfalls, gorgeous scenery, and a nice drop in temperature! The countryside is too beautiful for words! I’ve never seen a green like this- so alive, fresh, bright, contrasted with the blue of the sky, and specs of bright pink and red bougennevilla along the roadside. The road was cement, clean and smooth all the way. We passed a few other motorcycles carrying entire families, “carabaw” (water buffalo) being ridden by his owner and hauling a load behind him, or people walking alongside the road while carrying loads of water or a child on his shoulder. There were plenty of farmers stooped in the fields.

Helmets are for football!

The road to Kalumboyan

VERY old church in Kalumboyan

Cousin of "Gus" the carabaw

The houses are built right along the roadway here. Most are nipa huts that are on stilts. They are small. I’m sure one of these simple houses would fit nicely into any of our garages in the US. They remind me of the little playhouse I played in while growing up- one bedroom, dirt floor, makeshift furniture out of whatever you had around, tiny play curtains in the windows. The difference is that an entire family actually lives in there. There are clothes hanging in the trees and bushes surrounding the homes. I’m not sure if they have electricity or gas, but I see people cooking over outdoor flames quite a bit so I don’t think these folks need it! We even passed women and men doing laundry by hand in the river over the rocks. What amazes me is that people here are so detached from the rest of the world. They don’t know any other life. They have no idea who Brad Pitt is, or what Modern Family is, or who Lady Gaga is, or what the Twilight series is. Do they know who President Obama is? I would guess they probably know who the local politicians are, as I do see some political signs here and there hanging on the electrical posts. The world here is all about self-sustenance. People grow or raise what they eat. They drink from wells or natural springs. They raise their kids, feed their families. It’s so simple.

Farmers at home in Kalumboyan

Outdoor "dirty" kitchen

Motorcycle repair shop, downtown Bayawan

We Americans seem so wasteful and frivolous by comparison. We think we need so much more than these people. Is that bad? I know that since I have seen with my two eyes what poverty looks like, I feel more conscientious about the way I spend my money and my time. Do I NEED this or do I WANT this? Is what I’m spending time on important?

Joel says I shouldn’t feel guilty about buying anything. I work hard too and because of that, I’m given the opportunity to come here and give to others in different ways. Tonight, we gave P100 to a girl who was serenading customers on the sidewalk outside the bakery. This is more than a day’s wage for some and that’s equivalent to $1.50. I was told that farmers make approximately P200 (almost $3) per day, but they split that between all the laborers that work that day. Could your family live on $1-$2 a day?

Exploring the market with cousins (girls directly in front of Christine)

Shopping for fruit at the market

One of the most touching moments actually happened in Labo and it was about shoes. Joel became friends with the security guard of the hospital there. His name was Mr. Allan. Before leaving, Joel handed him a plastic bag stating that it was full of hazardous material. When Mr. Allan opened the bag and realized it was Joel’s pair of Mizumo trail running shoes, he almost cried. I think Joel just made a ‘pare’ (brother/friend) for life!