Sister M: No Pictures

I wrote this a couple of weeks ago, but didn't post it yet.  Maybe it's too sad for this venue, but then, maybe not posting it is not real honest.  There are no photos, but maybe my words will paint picture enough.

Today sister M came to church for the first time in a while.  She is a tiny, elderly, emaciated, hunched-over woman with the look of death.  Her teeth are all but gone, her mouth black inside, her bones too sharp, too prominent, her flesh non-existent under her draping skin, under her drooping clothing. Her mouth stays open, of necessity: her breath comes shallow, with a tiny cough on every exhale, until eventually she gives in to a wracking, gurgling fit of coughing.  Her eyes, hollow and deep, reflect bull-dogged tenacity and echo desperation.  She shuffles, too weak to really lift up her feet. The Branch President helped her get treatment (arranged for rides to the clinic, church funds for appointments, medicine)  which she has been on for 6 months, for her tuberculosis, but her chest is not clear.  I have no idea how she stays alive. 

Today, as usual, she has a child (anywhere from 2-7--you can't tell by normal size or developmental cues due to malnutriton) with her—this one a granddaughter, you can guess by the pink shift she has on—sometimes it’s two or even three kids.  Last time I saw her, maybe a month ago, she had the same girl with her and the girl’s head and shoulders were covered with angry red and black scabs.  Back then, sister M had to take the child out of Relief Society because she was crying--sort of a moaning, high-pitched whimper--but she was too weak to pick her up, so she just pushed her along with her foot, till the lady next to her picked up the child and carried her out. Think of the risk involved in that act of unselfish kindness—the child almost certainly a TB carrier, and the disease that caused the scabs?  This week the girls scabs have healed, the shaved head covered with an ultra-short layer of hair, but the scars from them on her back are still visible.  She didn’t cry today.  Her big empty eyes and blank expression tell the story: she has learned that crying is futile. A sister translated for me, as we listened to Sister M tell of her most recent plight.  Her granddaughter had a baby recently, and after 5 days, left the child with Sister M and fled the island.  Sister M is left to care for yet another child she cannot carry or feed—an infant she will most certainly infect with TB.

Back in the flooding last year, Sister M and her husband ended up at the emergency shelter several times, each time rescuing from the flood waters the multiple kids whom I don’t even think are all related to them. We delivered rice and canned goods and water to them there at the shelter.  When we first met them, they lived in a hut near the mouth of the Amlan River, a hut that we later saw filled with sand and debris after the worst flooding, but which has since been rebuilt. Elder Cropper and I thought she had recently relocated to Dumuguete, but then here she was at church in Amlan today.

You needn’t ask the questions—Why? How? Who?  There are no answers big enough for a life this broken.

Some people are so close to this edge that precarious-ness is their way of life.  They teeter, grab a limb to steady themselves, wobble, regain their balance, catch a gulping breath, then slide a ways and grab hold again—maybe they are grabbing hold to a relative with a job who can give them a day’s rice. Maybe they grab hold to a lender who is willing to lend them more money (this time though they have to put up their ancestral home as collateral, even though the loan is for 1/1000th of the house’s worth). Maybe they grab hold by marrying their daughter off to a wealthy foreigner. Maybe they grasp a government program for the indigenous, or a free visit to the health clinic. Maybe they grab hold of a Branch President who gives them assistance not just of the material kind but an actual plan to get off the tight rope. Maybe.

We spend our time giving the most stability we can to the most receptive people we can, in the broadest path that we can.  People who are willing to grab hold of the Gospel, who experiment on Christ’s promises, who have the patience to hold on to the Savior even when their trials worsen during the process; those are the people who make it, who get strong enough to be the one doing the rescuing.  Somehow Sister M holds tight to her hope for a better life to come, and with the power that only that hope can illicit, she finds strength to rescue the little ones for yet another day. But when we go to bed, we are haunted by her face, her little ones, her tenacity. I wonder where the newborn is tonight.  I let out a sob, and pray that Sister M. will let go. Just can't she please let go?

  

Clara Tillie and National Family Day Celebration!

It was National Family Week in the Philippines!

Congratulations Taylor and Anne, Blaine, Roger, Carter, and our co-grandparents, Rozanne and 

Roger!! A baby daughter, sister, cousin, granddaughter!! Anne gave birth to Clara Tillie on Sept 20, 2012 in her patented fashion--quick and easy (I know, the word easy should never be used to describe a delivery, but I'm talking in relative terms).  If only her pregnancy could have been as uncomplicated. 

We got to Skype with them within a few hours of her birth, and Rozanne sent a picture immediately, so we got to feel as if we were there--well, actually, a far cry from being there, but . . . you know. And we have Skyped since and can see that though Anne will have her hands full with Carter (busy busy boy) and Clara, they all seem to be settling in to yet another little Cropper.  That’s an even dozen grand kids for us in case anyone is counting. For more information about Clara Tillie and pictures go to: mrscropper.blogspot.com

As the numbers grow and the list of birthdays expands, it would be easy and maybe forgivable to think of this as just another grand kid.  But we don’t.  Every life is a miracle.  Trite statement?  Yes, but true nonetheless. How can something that has occurred 6 or 7 billion times seem so unique, so mysterious, so personal?  I don’t know how that is, but I am grateful that we can revel in another miracle given to our very own family.

Elder with part of the band. Not too close sisters.

To acknowledge Clara’s birth, the entire Tanjay District held a celebration.  Actually, the whole of the Philippines celebrated all week—National Family Week—and the District decided to participate by having a parade and an all day open house.  There were lots of dignitaries invited.   I’m not sure any showed up, but the Branch members showed up in great numbers, and Amlan in particular was extremely well represented which made Pres. B. very proud and I think personally grateful.

The gathering pre-parade

Our little branch leads the way

On the national highway 400 strong!!

 Colina Family poster

The sister we baptized in action

Bais Branch poster

Of course I had to cry about the whole parade.  There were no floats, and only one vehicle, but there were banners, and family t-shirts, and most people dressed in white (the designated costume) and a marching band, complete with majorette and ‘’minors” with batons a-twirl from Tanjay Central High School and another from I don’t know where, in glorious Mardi Gras colors and lots of people marching and a cop to direct traffic.  It was full on awesome!!  Imagine, the District decides on a parade, and traffic is blocked, people come out to watch, and the band plays on.

What is a parade without majorettes

...and a band

Who knows families better than LDS

Even balloons and missionaries

After the parade, everyone gathered back at the District center for an open house where there were displays set up in every room and videos going and activities for the kids, and tours and a program and awards.  We learned about 72 hour kits and disaster preparedness, and saw demos on how to make virgin coconut oil by hand, and how to make soap from Kalamansi juice.  There was a family picture-taking booth built in the parking lot, with guess who taking pictures (actually he passed it off for much of the day, but his camera was in duty all day).

Elder Cropper and I were the concluding speakers at the end of the day and amazingly there were still people there!!  Most, 400 plus, stayed all day!  The district provided snacks mid-morning and mid-afternoon, and each branch fed their own people lunch, so that right there makes for a great activity.

The parade stretched with members to about a 1/2 kilometer long

Ya gotta love the youth

and more.....

It didn't rain on our parade but it sure rained at lunch time

and rained......and rained

Making virgin coconut oil

WHAT A GREAT EVENT!!  WHAT A GREAT DAY!!!

Welcome to this world Clara, where there are whole countries and small Districts, and individuals who still know and celebrate the value of strong families—a place where God gives his children the guidance of Prophets and Proclamations and, most important, parents.  Clara, yours are the best.  And we all celebrate, YOU.

Shake Shingles

Filipino's are masters at efficiency in mass transit

Who is driving?? The big screen TV?

Hi-Tech power line work

Can’t think a lot of edifying things to share of late, but we promised to try to get back to weekly, and there are some who actually look for a blog weekly, so I’ll have to come up with something, edifying or not.  As some of you know, Elder Cropper has come down with shingles.  (Why do we say “come down with”? I can see, “is down with”, as in, “down for the count”, or, “down and out”, but why, “come down with?”) Well, regardless or irregardless, he is down, and shingles is the cause (subject/verb agreement becomes a real issue in that last phrase; does shingles begin with a single shingle? Is the disease singular, but the symptom plural?).  According to Melissa, our roving reporter and woman-on-the-street, practically everyone she talks to has had shingles.  According to our internet sources, it can get really ugly and last for literally ever, so the fact that Dean’s has been mild is really a miracle.  He is fatigued, headache-y, then the rash and shooting nerve pain and some skin numbness in patches, but all are on the mild end of what we have been told.  We have slowed WAY down in doing any work, and that is another trial connected to the disease.  We are struggling to stay focused and motivated about our work while unable to do it or plan.  It’s tough.  Although it is true that shingles cannot be passed on, it is contagious in that a person who has not had chicken pox can contract that disease from someone with shingles, so in addition to having to stay home a lot to rest, we feel confined due to possible contagion. But we’ve read that if your sores are healing and covered, it is safe to be around people, so we will teach our class tonight, after he takes lots of ibuprofen and acetaminophen. And we will go on our scheduled trip to Cebu tomorrow.

I guess the edifying part of this is this: when we finally realized what it was, we started on the anti-viral medicine, but it is said to be most effective when started in the first 48, or at most 72 hours, but we didn’t start until 4 or 5 days after the initial symptoms. The missionaries in our area had travelled to Cebu for training, and we were hesitant to call on Elders from the next city, but we did, and they came and gave Elder Cropper a blessing.  I was so proud of them.  They conducted themselves like true representatives of the Savior, and gave the blessing with confidence and power, seeking and gaining the direction of the Spirit. The Elder who sealed the anointing promised a miracle of healing, and we truly feel we have received it.  Like I said, we started the medicine late, but the case has been mild, the pain mostly controllable, and the area affected small. It is still no picnic, but we know God intervened in the severity.

We did take pictures of the sores, but we are going to spare you that experience.  Yuck!!

Okay enough of that. 

Looking up under an Acasai Tree

Does the baby standing up have a child restraint seat?

Mildy interesting language items:   1) In the island group called the Visayas, which cover, I think more than half the Philippines, including the large southern island, Mindinao, the people mostly speak a language called Visaya, though there are other distinct (meaning incromprehensible to each other) dialects with in the region also.  Then, within the dialect of Visaya, is a sub set that has regional differences only—like Scottish, compared to English.  It is called Cebuano. Though Cebuano is a smaller subset of Visaya, it is also more codified/formalized. So, for example, the Book of Mormon is translated into Cebuano, but not into Visaya. 

The National language of the Philippines is called Filipino. (I have no idea why the switch from Ph to F or from one p to two). It was formerly, and is still commonly, called Tagalog. But interestingly, the language spoken by the largest segment of Filipinos in their homes is Visaya. So, at school, the children are spoken to and taught in their mother language (depending on the region), then they study Filipino as a separate subject and English as another separate subject right from grade one.  Imagine! 3 languages in school from 6 years old!!  Unless of course you live in a native Tagolog speaking area, like Manilla, then you are taught in Tagolog, and study the subject of Filippino (same thing) and also study English.

Item 2:  There is no gender in third person in the Visaya language, only singular and plural.  So you can’t say, “give it to her” You can only say give it to siya which means him, her, and/or it or sila which means them.

So, when Filipinos speak English, they have to really work at adding the right gender.  Of course they know the difference between male and female, but in their language, there is no place for it in the pronouns they use, so it's hard to get it straight.  Therefore, we often hear a sentence such as, "the old woman, he said . . ." It's kind of the opposite of Romance languages which have (in my humble opinion) far too much gender--every blessed table and fig is a boy or a girl. Anyway, it does get confusing trying to follow a story where there are several people being told of and the hes and shes are being tossed around, and you're not sure if they are being used correctly or consistently. It's hard to tell if Jane went to school and Mark went to work or vice versa.  And that's when people speak English.

The really big news of the week is that Taylor and Anne will welcome Clara Tilly into the world later today!!  Anne hopes to be delivered of her new little girl in a few hours.  

I'm trying to find what's edifying about us not being there for that, but instead I will focus on the miracle: yet another miracle.