A big group of people congregated in the main entrance hallway of our little
chapel. More people (especially children) entered to see what all the
commotion and excitement was about. ZEDRU had blocked off the chapel
with a desk. They protected a pharmacy where people who were diagnosed
would register to receive a particular medicine for their ailment. Just
in front of that area sat Olsen and Chantel who were recording people’s
names, heart rate, and blood pressure. Across the hall was the rest of
the EMT team preparing an area to treat any injuries that the survivors
had. I walked to the back room where Walter was organizing our personal
gear, food, and water. Our relief goods laid there stacked and ready to
be distributed. I helped organize our gear for a moment then returned to
the main hallway to try contain the hundred children trying to watch
the EMTs. We set up some benches for them to sit in to wait their turn
but that didn’t do much. We resulted to magic tricks. 
Once
the initial wave of people began to die down I stepped outside to see
who else needed treatment. I walked around the grounds of the church
with the children finding the stubborn teenagers who were trying to just
tough it out. Their wounds had a pale swelling
to them where the bleeding had stopped. They looked infected and
decaying. Even the small half-inch slices looked like healing was
refusing to take place. I… eh… “encouraged”
these individuals strongly to go to the chapel to have their injuries
checked out. The most resilient ones were forced by my small band of
children followers. 
One of these stubborn adolescents consented by
handing me the infant in his arms and began subtly limping towards the
main hall. I followed with the infant in my arms. I was happy to see a
baby this young had survived the storm and looked strong, healthy, and
uninjured. What a miracle that was. I would say that probably half to two thirds of the survivors we interacted with had some sort of injury that needed some sort of attention -- at the very least disinfecting.
It had been over a week since the storm and even if they had
miraculously avoided injury during the typhoon the danger of slipping on
debris or stepping on sharp glass or metal as they tried to recover was
just as hazardous. I
quickly realized that starvation and thirst was not as prevalent a
danger as infection and disease was. These humble people likely did not
understand how great a risk it was not to treat their seemingly minor
injuries. It was a good thing that I was rather bold and forward with
them or otherwise they likely would have gotten very sick, lose limbs,
or even died.
Once
again I was reminded the importance of how we and ZEDRU were divinely
meant to work together in this effort. With our combined resources we
were able to get to this neglected town sooner and have a swifter impact
on healing and feeding the survivors. To emphasize the dire situation
of this isolated town was the appearance of a military helicopter
arriving close to our chapel in an open space. This aircraft landed down
and a swarm of Philippinos
ran over. The soldiers unloaded a big box full of goods and then as
swiftly as they landed they took off. ZEDRU tried to organize a proper
distribution but this was fruitless. The strongest forced the goods into
their possession and carried them away while the injured
or weak could only watch. ZEDRU was cautious due to the story
circulating that during one of the last drops a man was stabbed in the
back as a quarrel broke out over the delivered goods. We initially
watched in disappointment as the goods were carried off but we did see
that once they were a safe distance away the men opened the goods and
began handing them out to people who were standing by.
I
took the opportunity to step outside the chapel grounds to find more
survivors who needed treatment and food. I encouraged those living in
the rubble to follow me back to the chapel and to bring anyone they knew
who had injuries. Some gladly came with while others set out to inform
their friends and family that help had arrived. 
Once
everyone within and around the chapel were treated we began to shift
everything in the room to create another line of benches and desks.
ZEDRU had set up their banner against one of the blown out windows.
Olsen and I helped bring out our relief goods and stacked them in the
hallway at the end of the line. Survivors began walking in one by one to
sign their name and receive a package of well needed food and water. I
will be honest, the presentation seemed staged and I didn't like the way
it felt. It felt almost political. One person would come, one of us
would hand them a package, and then a picture would be taken by the
designated photographer. In case you were wondering why or how we got so
many pictures it was because one of the team was always tasked with
recording our daily events. I appreciate this and respect that a small team like ZEDRU needs to perform acts of publicity so that they can get further funding and support to continue helping. However I still didn't like it -- it felt unnatural, so Olsen (who felt similarly) and I slid uncomfortably into the doorway where the sacks were trying to remove ourselves. Above all else I didn't want the people we were helping feeling like we were only helping to get money, and reflecting back I am sure they didn't. I bet they were just stoked to get some food. I suppose my inexperience to relief groups and my semi-self-righteous view of anonymous-selfless service is the best service caused me this discomfort.
Also an interesting observation that we noticed was the contrasts in gratitude
expressed. There were only a few who you could see in their eyes and
feel in their words were truly grateful for the help being offered them.
Many of the survivors gave off a feeling of entitlement, as if they
were to say "It's about time you got here! What took you so long?" Which
is completely understandable and I'm sure I would feel similar
frustrations if it had been over a week before anyone came -- especially
if I was an LDS church member and the humanitarian relief effort had
yet to arrive. It was interesting nonetheless to see the differences in one of the ten returning to give thanks. 
Once
we handed out about half of our supply and the survivors were fed we
finally were able to settle down and grab a bite to eat.
…
oh yea, we need to eat.
I
wasn't hungry, at least I didn't think I was. I was so focused and
engaged in our tasks that only when the idea of eating was brought up
did my mind think, "Oh, that's probably a good idea." We hadn't eaten a
meal since before we had left to Leyte. So we set up our pots and began
cooking the rice. We ate sardines, noodles (ramen status), and rice. Every
day, one meal in the morning, and maybe a small bit at night once the
work was done -- Rice, Sardines, and Noodles -- the adventurers
provision.
Once we were fed our anxiety to go out and help some more grew even more. We gathered up our equipment, returned our relief goods to the storage room, and headed out to find the city center.
No comments:
Post a Comment