About three weeks ago our area experienced a 6.7 earthquake followed by a series of aftershocks that kept rattling the area and people’s nerves. The quake created many landslides in the mountains and those mountain people all headed down out of the mountains for fear of more quakes and landslides. The mountain people were met by those who lived along the seashore who were heading away from the lowlands to the mountains because they feared the potential tsunamis. In other words, people wanted to run to safety, but no one knew where that was. A few days after the earthquake, we received a call from the church’s area welfare/humanitarian service director who wanted to know the extent of the damage in our district from the quake. A couple of days later we took a drive north about 50 miles to the top of our mission on Negros Island. As we were driving we saw houses and churches leveled, buildings with big cracks, roads that were significantly damaged, bridges that were pretty scary to drive over because of visible cracks and pieces missing and landslides being removed from the highway. The devastation was obvious and the damage further north, in the other mission, was actually worse we were told.
The church put together a relief effort that consisted of three semi-trucks full of food and relief items. Arrangements were made with the cities that were most effected for the goods to be distributed by church members in each area. One of the cities in our area wanted to have the goods delivered to the government and they would be the ones to give it to the people. The church has learned that if a city makes that request, the city officials will take the goods for themselves and give them to those who voted for them and no one else. Knowing that, the church doesn’t give the goods to the city but will only distribute the goods through the members who will see that the goods get into the hands of the people who need the food and supplies.
We were scheduled to have one of those trucks deliver its goods in a municipality called Tayasan. Just a brief explanation of how municipalities are set up. A municipality is composed of a number of barangays that can be spread out over a fairly large geographical area. Well Tayasan has twenty-one barangays spread out over about 400 squares miles--from the seashore up far into the bukid (mountains). We were asked to accompany those who would take the relief goods into an area called Bago—an area deep in the mountains that had been cutoff because of landslides and, as it turns out we found out later, was infected with the NPA, a militant army that had its roots when I was here forty years ago to oppose Marcos and carried over. These are the modern Gadiaton robbers. They kill, pillage and plunder in the name of government opposition. It is well known, except we didn’t know anything about their presence there until we got back. We were told that they only bother the government. Hmmm.
Our truck “broke down” early on its way up the mountain. The driver heard where we were headed and refused to go any further, saying his truck could not make it up that high. With the pickle we were in, the Municipal offered to provide two dump trucks that would take the goods and volunteers up into the mountains to deliver the goods. Is there something a little concerning that the NPA doesn’t like the government and all these goods and people are being delivered in government vehicles??? But we were still oblivious to all that. We were driving our pick up and had it loaded with missionaries and members, and we arrived ahead of the first dump truck, but behind the van in which the leaders of the excursion, two church leaders from Cebu, were travelling. The 
first truck finally arrived. We learned that when the other dump truck had made the transfer of goods, up the road it went to Bago and about 100 meters along, it got a flat tire!
But all eventually arrived. The people had been waiting for the distribution for a few hours by then. They had been briefed on how it would go, the volunteers had given out tickets—small pieces of paper with numbers on them—
that they would exchange for the goods. Our people had all been given assignments so that everything came off the truck, and was in the hands of people within an hour of the truck’s arrival. It was really like something out of National Geographic—the rural, native people, the need in their faces, the sense of this being part of their way of life, this subsistence, the hordes pressing in, knowing there could be not enough, the volunteers fearful we would run out, the smile pressed on our faces, the moments of connection when eyes would meet and real love communicated, an recognition on each side of our mutual humanity, yes even divinity. 
The Barangay Captai
n had said there would be 800 heads of households, but only 600 showed up. Some, we were told later were fearful of coming. We delivered to each family 3 kilos of rice, several cans of food, and some hygiene products, a huge contribution to these folks who had been so isolated.
And now, the rest of the story—all of which we learned later. The government of the Municipal of Tayasan has not been up to these remote Barangays for over a month because of the fear of the NPA. The people are mostly safe from all but some maurading, but government officials are not welcome in those parts, so the relief goods from the church were much needed. 
As we were unloading the truck, one of the locals was working with one of our volunteers. The volunteer brushed against the local and saw a gun he was carrying. Hmmm. The local used to be a member of the NPA and quit but now carried a gun for protection. We were glad we didn’t know any of this before we went. The road was harrowing enough; the climb up the dinosaur ridge of mountains, the jarring and perpetually in risk of sliding off the mountain ride was nail biting enough; the dizzying decent into the remote valley over roads that threatened to dislodge, and had done in places, was paralyzing enough. Had we also known we were going to an area where Municipal government workers don’t go, I’m pretty sure we would have ignored church policy and just handed the stuff over to the Barangay Captain. Luckily we didn’t know, and besides, we were not in charge, but were just along as pretty faces. 
Well we packed up and it was off to the next barangay. It was starting to get dark now because of the delays we had with the trucks. As we pressed forward it really started to get dark and the road really got dark and even more bumpy and even more steep. I was worried that Mary Anne’s air bag was going to deploy at any minute. We are beyond the realm of the Edison light bulb. We occasionally came to a few houses with their kerosene lamps lit. People would see our headlights coming and walk out to to the road to see us drive by. What crazy people are driving in the dark around here on these craters of the moon roads. Well maybe not their exact thoughts but we were thinking that. As the roads got steeper and almost impassable, we started to worry. At this point the two passenger vehicles, we were one of them, in the other was the area directors for Humanitarian and welfare relief from Manila and Cebu, behind the dump truck. We were looking for a place to turn around and get out of dodge and just send the goods this time. We finally found a turn around that took four people to turn each vehicle around and off we went back down the hill waving at the dump truck as it lumbered up that road that looked like a spine of a stegosaurus. We ducked out and two hours later the truck did show up back in the Municipal empty. The people got their needed relief goods, we think.
This was our first experience delivering relief goods in a Gadianton area and hopefully the last. It was a great experience and there was a lot of good done for people who were in real need. The church and its members is an amazing organization. This was the act of pure Christ-like love. This might be the only contact these people have with the church for years, so it certainly was not a missionary effort, in terms of spreading the gospel, but only in terms of spreading His love. The prophet is more concerned that God’s children who stand in need get some relief.
When the people came through the line to get their goods they would say the only English words of appreciation they knew, thank you, thank you, thank you, congratulations (huh?) well that is the only English word he knew that kinda had the same meaning.
