2.17.13

Merloquette Falls, Vitali Zamboanga City

It was a fun day!

I woke up at 7am, took a shower, ate breakfast, and finally left my host house at 8am. I went to Rio Hondo, a Muslim community here in Zamboanga. When I told my hostess I was going to that place she asked me with matching raised eyebrow, “Are you sure?”

Her dubious look was convincing enough to tell me that it’s the worst idea to do in Zamboanga. Even they haven’t tried going there. That statement woke up a tremendous curiosity in me telling me more that it’s actually a great idea going there.

A mysterious joke, which you can’t tell if a joke or not, said that once you get there, you have no way out. You’ve figured out the ending of the story already, I went out alive and well. But that’s not the whole point.

They said it’s a slum, and a very dangerous place. A place where they bring people they want to kidnap and bring to other parts of Mindanao. A place where people cannot be trusted. A place where they leave dead bodies along the mangroves. The negative description by most, even random people in the jeepney who I rode with, reiterated these brainwashing information.

But when I was there, I felt, and experienced the opposite. Well, sure many parts were a slum, and didn’t smell good. But I felt secured while I was there. To be honest, I was afraid at times that a crazy random guy would stab me with a knife at my side (which is my worst nightmare. I hate knives and blood). But nothing of that, nor any of their descriptions happened.

The only killers I met were the men who looked at me first, from head to toe, and then looked straight at my eyes, killing me with their enticing look while biting at the right side of their lips. (O Gosh! I can’t stand!) I believe it goes with the beautiful eyes (that appears to be so horrible), which I assume to supposedly seduce me. I died. (It killed me for a second, I couldn’t move!)

Kidding aside, my experience over all was something to treasure in my heart. People were welcoming, generous, kind, and receptive.

My host in that community, kuya Gammar Hassan confirmed what people outside said, “Yes, this place is a place of no return; when you go here, you wouldn’t want to return home.” I ate until my tummy had to give up. I laughed until I had to catch my breath. I grinned until my smile reached my ears. And I listened …until I finally heard how they felt.

I felt the pain from the stories of them all (yes, ALL). Stories about how people treat them, and stereotyped them. “Sure there are people who kidnap, but they are not true Muslims. True Muslims don’t hurt innocent people. If they did, then those people weren’t innocent, and if they were innocent, the people who hurt them were not true Muslims.” Said one of their leaders. “When a Christian kills or kidnaps someone, no one dares to say, ‘Christians are murderers and kidnappers’. Isn’t that unfair?” He painfully pointed out.

At that point, I decided not to talk. I’ve always wanted to be a counselor where people could just tell me what’s wrong, or what’s in their heart, and not offer any apathetic solutions (that I usually thought about while the person is sharing). It’s a challenge for me, because I have opinions about so many things, and I love speaking a lot. So I thought this is going to be a training ground.

It was a mission accomplished. At least the first part of mission. I listened attentively. Until they finally open up their hearts, sharing some deeper secrets to me. They opened their homes in other parts of Mindanao (I found out that the people on my left and on my right were actually MILF Generals). They even offered to travel with me not just in Mindanao but also in ASEAN countries (Malaysia is only about 12 hours using a big boat).

We went from one place to another. I was introduced to everyone we saw. Little talks here and there, I was sure about what I felt, I can come back here anytime I want to –with prior notice. New friends make me really happy.

I am very happy for the friendship we built. I am actually looking forward to coming here again. Next time, I want to go around Mindanao, with these dangerous people –dangerous but trustworthy.

Though I didn’t agree with many things they said about life, against Christianity, and about their statements concerning the superiority of Quran than the bible (and I guess they know I disagree, because they know that I also happen to love reading and studying the Bible). I am happy that I can agree to disagree with them while maintaining the friendship.

I went with a mindset to minister to them, but they ministered to me more. I’ve used that statement a thousand times, but I still find it to be true whenever I choose to serve people, in any way, for the glory of God. They ministered to me by reminding me big time that labeling others could affect lives more than you know.

Yes, more than you know.

I arrived at my hostess’ home 6:30pm. I was so exhausted. I turned the air-con on before taking a shower, so that by the time I’m done the room is cold. And then I had dinner. I was thinking it would be a very fast dinner so I could rest early. But no.

The boyfriend of my hostess was around, and he happened to love talking …a lot. So there he was sharing his seemingly endless stories. And here I am, trying to be polite as I give occasional nods and UHUHs.

When I was ten minutes done with my meal already, he was still talking. He continued for twenty minutes, maybe thirty still. Looking for that awkward silence, I might as well give the gesture that I want to rest already, while still doing my best to look polite.

When maybe his talk time hit forty minutes, I finally was able to sense it was nearing to what I long await (drum roll, with smoke machine) …the awkward silence!!! Then I said, “Alright! Thank you so much for those stories. They are really nice. I have to rest.”

“Right! You need to rest after a long day, and for your trip tomorrow.” He agreed. Before I could even stand up, he asked me, “What was your last name again?” Naïve as I was, I answered, “dela Cruz”.

“OH!!! DELA CRUZ!!!” He exclaimed. “There are so many dela Cruz here! I even had a workmate in Fujairah whose last name was dela Cruz.” (You probably know where this is going). He spoke for another …eternity. I couldn’t interrupt him because he was so passionate about what he was sharing. And honestly, he actually shared a lot of interesting topics and insights. But I was just so tired after that whole day community-visit.

Maybe for another thirty minutes, he continually spoke. My eyes were occasionally closing, my shoulders shrunk, and my mouth wide dropped –not in awe.

When I thought he finally noticed how dead tired I was, he initiated the good night. It brightened my night! “This is the threshold to my amazing bed!” Before I could finally shake his hand goodbye, he said something like the Singapore airport is so beautiful. I agreed. “Like that of Korea’s.” I side commented.

You’ve been to Korea? He asked. “Umm, only in the airport. It was only a lay-over going to Israel.” I responded slowly while smiling hesitantly.

“COOL! My mother came there last year also!”

This time, I was shouting inside myself already, “Why can’t you be so sensitive about how I feel?”

Anyway, we ate dinner at 7pm and left the table 9pm; if I’m not mistaken I only ate for 15 minutes, and listened for 1 and 45 minutes.

The way I stopped the conversation was really awkward. Maybe it appeared like I was shooing him away because even though he was not yet done speaking, I gently stood up and interrupted; “Thank you so much for your stories, I’d love to talk about that more when I get back here.”

When I finally entered the air-conditioned room!!!! Oh you bet! I was dancing for joy! I could feel that cold breeze, I hear the bed calling my name, and see those pillows asking for cuddling. I sighed and prayed a thanksgiving prayer, “Thank you God for stopping that.”

I turned off the lights, lie on my bed comfortably, and still in the attitude of thanksgiving. Then suddenly when you hear that voice of God. It was not an audible voice. In fact, it was so loud to be audible. It’s a voice that you hear inside your heart, asking a question; “Why didn’t you pray for him? Why didn’t you ask him about his relationship with me?”

“LORD!!!?? I thought we’re on the same side here?” I grudgingly asked. “You saw what happened today, it was a very fruitful and tiring day. Will you not ask me do something more tonight?” (Now imagine I was already lying on my bed comfortably).

But anyway, I stood up, and started looking for words to say. “After shooing him away, why would I still come back? And what am I suppose to say?” I struggled and thought. I was sincerely lacking of any creative tactics or words to start another conversation.

Because I didn’t want to delay my rest that night, I knew I had to move instantly so I could sleep earlier. So I knocked at their door. The TV was on, and they couldn’t hear me. My excuses were ready as it echoes to my soul; “They’re not interested, go to sleep. You are just bothering them.”

Then I said, “Lord, no one’s answering!?” Then a question popped again, if you’re crush is in there and you want to meet her badly, and want to tell her something and she’s not opening the door because you know she can’t hear you, what will you do?

“Ahhh eehh… I’ll… …call her.”

So I called her, and she opened the door for me. God is amazing, he orchestrated from the beginning (before I even go to Zamboanga) for me to bring two New Testament bibles that came from my Israel journey, and two hats that Jews wear to symbolize humility and God’s authority.

I said I have something for them. My introduction was pretty awkward, but it gets better as we continue the conversation. I said I might not be able to see them tomorrow already (because I was planning to go to the falls far from the City). So I want to express my gratitude by giving them something really dear to me.

The bible, so that God would be clear in his will and direction for them. And the hat, so that we will always remember to humble ourselves and be aware God’s presence and His authority in our lives. I elaborated a little, and hoped that they were touched by the message.

Finally, I asked them what I can pray for and with them. They shared their prayer concerns. Actually, for a newfound friend, I found their prayer requests quite too deep and personal. I was excited to pray.

As I was sincerely asking God’s grace to cover our failures, while uttering our desires to please him with our actions, and seek for his guidance, I heard them sobbing.

When I think I’m done praying, I didn’t want to say the word “Amen” yet, because I didn’t know how to react or what to say after seeing God’s Spirit work that night. I was blessed all the more, I feel privileged to witness that event.

When I get back to my room, I remember telling God I would be willing to sacrifice my sleep tonight just to share God’s Word to those hungry souls.

“Long day huh?”

Tiring, but it was amazing. God is amazing.

Finally, I had a great night’s rest.