Typhoon Haiyan Relief Effort: Broken Promise

I made a promise before I left on this mission to my sister Jessica. She was crying in fear on the phone for my well being. My sister isn't usually emotional like this; I've very rarely seen her cry and probably never before out of distress. I was in my room packing and preparing when she had called me. I held the phone between my shoulder and head talking as I gathered clothes and equipment but when emotion touched her voice I halted. I dropped what was in my hands and lifted the phone to my ear and listened. She was pleading with me not to go. She shared with me all her fears about what she had seen of Tacloban in the news. I comforted her telling her that we wouldn't be going to Tacloban, that there were rescue efforts there already, and that our focus were the forgotten towns outlying. She plead another time for me not to go. I informed her that the tickets were purchased and that I was going no matter what. She began to cry and say, "Promise me you won't go to Tacloban. I know you want to help those people, but it's not worth losing your life over. It's dangerous there, people are desperate... Promise me Charles, you won't go to Tacloban." The formal use of my name combined with her emotion led me to make a promise that I usually otherwise wouldn't have made. I am a man of my word and impeccability is a foundational value for me. I try my absolute hardest not to make promises I don't intend on keeping. In the end my word is truly all I have and in this moment it was all I could do to console my worried sister. I told her, "I promise."

These were the thoughts racing through my mind as we crossed the threshold into the city of Tacloban, Leyte.

When we had woken up that morning I was uncertain exactly of what our plans were. I was under the impression we would be leaving to Tolosa, a town we had passed through on our way to Tanauan which was Walter's last area. I was informed by Mum Beth that we needed to find a way to Tacloban to retrieve the supplies from Manilla. I was seriously confused at first but then everything registered. The supplies that ZEDRU had been waiting for which had previously delayed their travel to Tacloban before meeting us was finally arriving. Apparently they had been able to get off a message to the Cebu team to forward the delivery straight to Tacloban. The Cebu team was intending to travel on that boat with the supplies to join our team to continue our efforts. This was without question the best thing to do for our purpose in being here and the accomplishment of our mission.

I was torn and even a little fear crept into me. Call it superstitious but I feel like broken promises usually end badly. I had yet to feel that our security had been compromised in our recent efforts, however the idea of entering the epicenter of confusion, chaos, and uncertainty caused me to feel anxious about going. Despite this I did believe in our mission and the deliverance that we had experienced up to this point and built within me a confidence sound and utterly certain. I bowed my head in prayer to ask God if this was His will to break this promise, a legitimately difficult thing for me to ask. I knew it was and so we went.

Chantel was feeling much better this morning which was great news for our next expedition. Chantel was in quite the dilemma however. She still had not been able to get in touch with Delta to verify whether Leslie was able to change her flight or not. ZEDRU was planning on returning to the Municipal to hopefully hire a truck to transport our goods and team to Tolosa as predetermined. Chantel and I did the math and realized that we had about a half-hour to get to city hall and make the call before Delta closed back in the States. We took off for the only place we had found any sort of signal before the rest of the team was ready. 

We got there and rushed to the top story where signal would hopefully be stronger. Chantel inched her phone up, down, left, and right trying to find a spot where she could get service. This process continued about ten minutes until the tarped roof began to be weighed down by the rain water collected the last few days. RescueNet workers were unloading the water weight causing waterfalls inside the building in the gaps where roofing no longer existed. I pulled off my scarf and covered Chantel and her phone as a certain stream landed a few feet from us splashing us both. She finally got hold of a signal and started through the most frustrating automated system ever. People began showing up and pushing past us. I took stance at the front of the traffic protecting Chantel from being disturbed from her calculated signal spot. Despite our best efforts the phone call dropped right before Chantel was able to confirm her flight change. It would have to be resolved post-trip.

Chantel instantly dropped the weight of that burden from her shoulders assured that it would take care of itself in time if it hadn't already. That was impressive to me. Tickets are over a thousand dollars and the fact that she just shrugged it off like that was admirable. Her perspective was true and focused on what was at hand. 

ZEDRU got denied once again for a truck from the mayor who was insisting that the only way we would get a truck is if we brought all our goods to his hall to be distributed in his town. We weren't going to operate under such politics and we had already distributed most of our goods there anyway. Tolosa was still in need so we decided to just start walking towards Tacloban and hope for a way to travel the 12 kilometers through the city and to the dock. 

After about five minutes of walking a truck passed us as we held out our thumbs hitch hiker style. It was a flat-bed with a small group of people in the back. Mum Beth asked the driver where he was

going. He was headed to the airport and offered to take us that far. Beth thankfully agreed and we all hopped in the back. Within moments we were once again provided a way to accomplish our urgent mission.

Enter the introduction. I saw the Tacloban outskirts and the devastation that had extended the last five or six miles. My sisters promise rang through my mind. I asked Chantel for her phone. Sure enough as we entered the city, service was restored by the relief agencies who had been pushing communication restoration. I used her global phone to send a brief text message to my sister with my confession.



Jessica, I'm sorry I had to break your promise. I'm safe, alive, and accomplishing a lot of good. Please forgive me.