Typhoon Haiyan Relief Effort: Travel to the Philippines and ZEDRU

I remember when we got to our gate Chantel threw her things down and sprawled out on the ground in between two aisles of chairs. We started people watching and laughing. She whipped out her phone and started making final arrangements before falling off the grid. My favorite of these was selling tickets to an event she no longer was going to attend on KSL. When the plane doors shut and the plane began to move I could hardly believe that this was actually happening. I was returning to the Philippines with Chantel to help assist a devastated island. It never really registered. It’s been almost a month since I’ve returned home and it still hasn’t. I’m sure Chantel felt similarly. Despite the 26ish hours of flights it took to get to Manila, it was an enjoyable experience filled with great conversation, goofy outbursts of laughing that likely bothered other passengers, and a slew of movies.

On our way into Japan we took as many complimentary blankets we could find on the plane and stuffed them in our bags. We made a nest of probably twenty plus blankets in between vending machines and pay phones to sleep in during our layover. It was awesome. I dozed in and out. I remember hearing the voices of philippinos talking in Tagalog about the flight being delayed. I perked up and listened to their discussion. I stood up and walked over to them. They paid no attention to me until their conversation ended and I engaged the attendant with a fluid sentence in Tagalog. Her surprise delayed her response for about three seconds before answering that the plane would leave later than expected. As I groggily returned to the nest, I laid down and reset my alarm clock. I woke up about an hour later to see an entire relief team geared out five feet away. I stood up again and started conversing with them about their plans. They were surprised to hear what our plans were (or lack thereof) and admired our willingness to help. We wished each other well and they continued on. I realized again how unfitted I felt but was immediately reassured that our work was different and would be meaningful. I trusted my prompting and fell back asleep. We eventually got up, abandoned half of our nest, and boarded the plane.

When we touched down in Manila (the capitol of The Philippines) it was the beginning of the day. It was 1-2am. We had to switch terminals to fly to Cebu. As we walked towards the shuttle station I saw the ramp that I had walked down those four years before to begin my mission in the Philippines. A bit of emotion touched me as I tried to relive that feeling so many years ago. In that instant I reflected on how much I had experienced during those two years I had served here and how much I had grown since that time. As I imagined myself walking down the ramp, I viewed how different the two of us were. I felt like a shadow in a dream, a time traveler unnoticed. I had a companion from the real world with me this time so I knew that it was reality; yet it felt so surreal, so dream-like. Combine this with the idea of over 5,000 dead, cities flattened, and thousands without food or water and we were the ones being sent to help. I tried to vainly wrap my mind around it all and expressed on the plane in writing:

Surreal is the perfect word to describe it because within these seven letters is an almost universally experienced phenomenon that no one can really describe. When we say it is surreal most get the idea. I guess it’s like the word love. A word rich and full of meaning but without true definition.

I believe both these undefinable words are playing a huge part with how we feel, why we are acting, and certainly why life was able to take a multiple-day timeout.

As I look out the plane’s window I see the ocean of white water vapor blanketing the sky in a dream like haze.

Maybe feeling surrealty can be defined as expecting to wake up. 

After passing that ramp, we got onto a small bus that was packed and overflowing with bags and people. A fellow American looked lost and confused as the driver said “20 pesos” which is pretty close to 50 cents in America. This man pulled out a 20 dollar bill and looked ready to hand it to the guy which would have only been a 4,000% markup. I paid for his fare and asked the man if he had any Philippino money. He said he didn’t. We invited him to join our little party once we discovered that we were both flying to Cebu. He introduced himself as Josh, an ex-military gun for hire. He owned a gym with his wife out East but on occasion was hired by an anonymous multi-millionaire to accompany a team of doctors to travel to disasters zones. Josh was not at liberty to say who the man was or what company he represented but did disclose that this guy steps in when the government can’t in order to provide relief to disaster zones. Josh had been hired to protect a team after the massive tsunami hit Indonesia a few years ago. He down played his very dramatic sounding line of work as he explained that he usually just walks around for 12 hours a day holding a gun. He expected to do the same in Tacloban.

When we arrived at the other terminal Walter was waiting for us. I was so happy to see my good friend after all this time. Walter and I had gone through some incredible experiences together, more so perhaps than anyone else in my life. It was good to be with my brother again. We caught up for just a few minutes before passing out on the other half of the blanket nest we had preserved. We were exhausted and got a few more hours sleep before our plane to Cebu.


That plane ride was very brief in contrast to the hours and hours of flying we had done previously. When we landed in Cebu I remember stepping out into that hot sun and the wave of humidity washing over me. It was a therapeutic cleansing from all the motionless encaging we’d experienced in the multiple fuselages that trapped us like chickens in a pen for the last 20+ hours. A giant smile took my face as another wave of reality struck me. I thought in my mind “Here we are. Let’s get to work.”

Chantel patiently waiting at the computer shop

A friend of Walter’s named Apollo met us at the airport with two of his sons. He was an older gentleman and unfortunately did not speak very much Tagalog. He mostly spoke Cebuano so Walter did most of the translating. He was very kind and even offered us a place to stay the night. We walked from the airport a kilometer or so into the outskirts of the city where we found, of all places, a Starbucks. I wanted to access the PayPal account to see if there were more funds ready to be used. The Wi-Fi in Starbucks wasn’t working, so we went to a computer shop close by. We accessed our funds and tried to figure out how to get a hold of Preston Olsen. What we had arranged prior was to contact an elderly couple that lived in Cebu that Olsen was friends with. The number he given me was an American number and it wasn’t working. We had no idea how we were going to find Olsen in this massive city.

Apollo then led us through Cebu to multiple warehouses throughout the inner city trying to find a store that would give us a good deal in bulk goods. I was prioritizing the importance of utilizing our funds in the most effective way possible which cost us some time as we jumped from place to place. We searched for the best goods at the best price. We discovered that a lot of the middle-grade and low-grade rice and canned goods were already bought out and that expensive brands were all that remained. Fortunately we found two warehouses willing to sell us some middle-grade goods at a discounted price. I bartered those shopkeepers to grief. I remember looking over at Chantel who was sitting on a few sacks of rice with a glazed over look staring into nothing. I chuckled as I felt bad that she probably felt so lost not knowing the language. I went over to her a few times in between calculating prices and goods to see how she was handling all of this. It hit me that this all probably seemed so bizarre and foreign to her. This experience had been nothing like America. When I did approach her she always responded with a smile waiving off the effects of jet-lag. She was never bothered by the differences between this third world country and the comforts and safeties of America. I'd say she may have even enjoyed the Philippines a little more. Over a year before, she had gone to India which she described to be even more hectic and diverse. It certainly was a huge help to prepare her for this journey.


We finished purchasing our goods and left to one of the LDS chapels which was just finishing conducting services. The whole ward enthusiastically offered to help us package all of our goods which consisted of rice, sardines, noodles, and water. With everyone’s help we finished in roughly an hour or two. We had enough sacks for 108 families. The church authorities I had hoped to work through originally were still in stasis and unmoving. They were organizing relief but just like everyone else they had yet to send over a team. We returned to a computer shop to see if Olsen had responded yet.  I was grateful to see that Olsen had sent me a message on Facebook explaining he had bought a phone to contact him with. We used Walter’s phone to get a hold of him. We talked about meeting up at the chapel we were close to. He also relayed that a team of EMTs wanted us to join together in going to Leyte. I was surprised and excited by the news. We returned to the church where Olsen arrived shortly after with a few members of the EMT team. He brought with him an incredible story:

Olsen arrived in Cebu Saturday night just after midnight. He got there about 6-8 hours ahead of us. Knowing that he had some time to kill before we arrived, he took a taxi from the airport to the LDS temple located in Cebu City. He spoke to the night guard (because the temple was obviously closed) who directed him to the Cebu Guest House. When Olsen checked in there, he started talking to another night guard. That guard was an investigator being taught by the LDS missionaries and informed Olsen that the owners of that guest house were also members of the church. Through them he was able to get contact information for the local missionaries, the elderly couple aforementioned, and the Cebu Mission President. The next morning Olsen went out bought a cell phone, Facebook messaged me, and returned to the guest house to wait for our call.

He met the owners who had invited the missionaries over to teach the guard. After the lesson they invited Olsen to join them in attending a church service. When they got to the chapel Olsen met about 30 of the Tacloban missionaries that had been evacuated. He asked them which areas were hit the hardest, where we should go, and what was the best mode of transportation to and within the island. They shared some incredible stories with Olsen about the devastating typhoon. They told miraculous experiences of surviving the storm, walking through the eye, and finding shelter. Remarkably not one of the over 200 missionaries serving in that mission were killed.

Very convenient photo

After the church services Olsen was wandering around talking to a few people when he ran into the EMT team. They called themselves ZEDRU (Zion Emergency Disaster Relief Unit). Olsen explained that he too had EMT training and still had not heard from Chantel and I. They invited Olsen to join their
team. They traveled to a store before returning to an office where they had stored some of their own supplies. While waiting there he finally received my phone call. Interestingly ZEDRU had had some frustrating delays before meeting with Olsen.

They had been sponsored to fly from Manila to Cebu and then to Tacloban but had been put off over and over again. They finally made it to Cebu at the perfect moment to meet up with Olsen. Their relief goods were also delayed in getting to Cebu which meant that their medical missions would have had to be delayed an additional two to three days. That is why our timing was providential. Mom Beth, as their leader was affectionately titled, had ties with the Philippines Coast Guard which allowed her special privileges and access to the ports where we could find a boat to Leyte. With her transportation ties and our relief goods we were
able to merge our resources and leave immediately to Leyte. The urgency was able to be met and addressed due to how God allowed everything to fall perfectly into place. If we had been able to contact Olsen any earlier we would have lost this opportunity. If ZEDRU hadn’t been delayed the few days they had it wouldn’t have happened the way that you will see it was supposed to happen. There were so many variables that wove and interconnected in such a perfect way that when I was told this story I was astounded. I was awed and humbled throughout our journey at the significance of our meeting. I knew once again with an even stronger certainty that we were meant to be here, Olsen was divinely placed and supposed to accompany us, and we were on God’s errand.


We combined our teams, retrieved the relief goods, and headed out to the port to leave to the island of Leyte.