60 sacks of relief goods. That is what we had left. Each sack consisted of three kilos of rice, two cans of sardines, three packs of ramen-like noodles, and two liters of water. Each sack was intended for a family. Though this sounds like hardly enough for one meal back home, a smaller family could survive off of it for a few days. It was minimal but possessed the necessities for survival. That was our whole mission all along -- to satisfy the immediate need to buy time for the larger relief groups to arrive. Even our medical missions were much more temporary relief and infection staying until more supplies and greater medical attention could be rendered. This was the whole reason we spent over $10,000 combined to make this trip instead of simply donating that money to the general cause. There existed plenty of money and supplies just no one to distribute them. So we went. So we were there.
The sun had gone down by the time we returned to the Tolosa chapel. The Cebu team hadn't returned from their medical mission. Our unit had been talking with the local church leader in helping us find sleeping space. We were told we could share the chapel space with half a dozen family refugees. We gratefully accepted. We took some chairs to section off a corner of the big room to separate our gear from the slew of children running and playing. We were all completely exhausted but the people wanted to be with us. Chantel pulled out a large bag of lollipops donated to her from a friend back home. The children kind of lined up and all got some of the sweet candy. They were ecstatic. The children were good about making sure everyone got one instead of trying to steal for seconds. I was impressed by that. It demonstrated the culture's attitude once again of spreading and sharing what was available to everyone. It reminds of me scriptural tales of communities having all things in common and sharing everything with the old, the sick, and the poor. I have traveled many places in my life and it is easy for me to say that the Filipinos exemplify this attitude more than any other culture I have come in contact with. I love them.
After taking some photos and getting settled in I laid out the last remaining red delta airlines blankets I had for Chantel, Walter, and I. I chuckled at how cozy the thin pieces of fabric looked on the tile floor. Reality struck me for a moment as I realized that though I felt completely at ease or at home, the scene would have been intolerable back home. A small dinner of rice and ramen-like noodles, tile floor beds, children playing and stepping on Chantel's hair as she laid down, absolutely no luxury existed in that moment save perhaps the generator that gave partial light to the chapel for a few hours before we retired. I was utterly happy. I laid down on my knees and thanked God for the success of our mission and the safety of everyone. I thanked him for how we had been shielded. My consciousness began to fade as I was jolted awake by one of the ZEDRU team. We needed to make a decision on what to do with the remaining relief goods. I rose from my knees and went with them into the other room.
We had reached the end of our supplies and it was time to return to Cebu to restock. The plan was to wake up first thing in the morning and catch the bus back to Hilongos. We were down to 50 sacks of relief after bartering with our driver friend. For his services we offered him the remainder of our fuel and ten sacks of relief goods to share with his barangay (village segment). Money would still be valueless for a few days if not a few weeks. It was too late in the evening to distribute those fifty sacks and so we talked with the local church leader. Walter knew the man and quite a few of the survivors. Walter had served here over a decade before as a missionary. They were trustworthy individuals and so we commissioned the Branch President as he was called to distribute the relief goods to those staying within the chapel and then to reach out to those in the immediate surrounding areas.
The Cebu team had returned and everyone was getting settled down to sleep. Many of the children had quieted down after we performed some magic tricks to entertain them. They joined their smiling parents. I grabbed my travel pillow and laid my head down to it. A storm rolled through but I didn't notice. I was out cold.
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I was awoken by the alarm of one of the team. It was still dark out but it was time to roll. We were up at 4 am to be packed and out on the street by 5 am. With headlamps and tip-toed feet we did our best not to wake up the sleeping families beside us. We gathered our gear, said goodbye to the Branch President, and headed out onto the street as light began to peak up over the horizon. I remember as we stood by the side of the road waiting for the bus beginning to feel the utter exhaustion setting in. I evaluated my status. I was enervated, starving, dehydrated, and mentally drained. My brain felt like it was operating at about 40%. I felt sluggish and weak. Perhaps my body understood that our first mission to Leyte was finishing and so that urgency adrenaline that had carried me the past few days was depleted. I know God carried me and my companions through the extreme circumstances, but the consequences of the reality of what we had been through, even just emotionally and mentally, was enough to floor a normal individual for a week of needed recuperation. I looked at Chantel and Olsen, my strong and faithful companions. They too looked weary and fatigued to the point of collapse. We all felt that way...
The bus arrived with it's headlights blinding. We threw in our gear and started the long four hour ride back to the port city.
One hour passed by, then another. We had tried hiding behind our truck but the high noon-day sun was bearing down on us. Some of our Filipino friends had tried to spark up conversation with the other port inhabitants, most of who were US military. They were disappointed when they were rejected by them with "orders not to speak to civilians."
We were waiting for the boat from Manila to arrive with our second EMT unit and enough relief goods to resupply a small village for a few days. It was the goods that ZEDRU had been waiting for since the storm had first hit over a week ago. Finally they were going to arrive just in time for us to help the forgotten town of Tolosa.
Ultimately, after anxiously waiting at the port, our ship came into sight. As they pulled up ZEDRU and Olsen hurried on board to meet up with the Cebu team and to coordinate our next move. They returned to our truck with furrowed brows and pinched lips. Olsen was shaking his head. I asked what the problem was. Apparently a large company, after everything had been brought on board, purchased the entire boat's storage space. The workers removed everyone else's supplies and replaced them with this company's cargo. The Cebu team were only allowed to bring what they could carry. Beth was beyond frustrated with the way their humanitarian organization had been treated and the complete disregard for previous agreements and arrangements.
Our first seeming roadblock on our endeavors. You will see though how it played perfectly into the grander scheme. Fortunately the Cebu team had the foresight to know that fuel would be a valuable bargaining chip in the recently made wilderness. We loaded up our new team and the new gear and headed back out onto the road the way we came. It was a long drive back to Tanauan as two storms soaked us to the core. When we arrived at our chapel safe haven we communed indoors. A slight disagreement arose at how we were going to execute our next move. Tolosa was another devastated village small enough to pass under the radar of larger relief groups. It is a flat coastal town. The 15 foot storm surge (pause in reading and imagine that for a minute. A flat, coastal town, engulfed in 200+ MPH winds, and a fifteen foot WALL of water) washed out everything. The only remaining structures were two churches that had miraculously survived.
Anyways, the specific needs of the village were yet to be determined. To Olsen and I, it seemed blatantly obvious that they needed as much help as Tanauan did, if not more. Beth however felt that a scouting team should be sent ahead with the truck to determine the need and contact the city hall. The problem this posed was the fuel it would take to drive back and forth to scout and then pick up the remaining teams, then back again. It seemed like a redundancy. We came to a compromise. We packed up all of our equipment and moved out to Tolosa. We dropped off our gear and most everyone to conduct an immediate medical mission in the surrounding area of the remaining LDS chapel.
Olsen, Chantel, Beth, and I went with the truck driver to the municipal to talk distribution, needs, and possible arraignments to mutually benefit from one another's abilities. All we found was another politician seeking to horde what he could and execute authority over the inhabitants of the city. An agreement in exchange of transportation/goods could not be made so we once again headed out trusting in God to provide a way for survivors and relief workers to find one another.
A massive storm struck once again as Chantel and I huddled inside the cab of the truck trying to avoid the torrent. We chuckled as we saw 4 Filipinos chilling underneath the frame of a large truck, as if this was the most normal thing in the world. Chantel and I were in a near delusional mentality because of the fatigue of the day, the constant storm soaking followed by brutal heat, and having eaten and drunk so little. We were laughing at the scene. Chantel squealed and giggled as she pulled out a massive bag filled with yellow crackers brought by the Cebu team. We ate so many crackers. They were so bland but so delicious.
This reminded me of another funny story that had happened earlier in the day. In preparation of the likely event of us foreigners getting sick I caused Chantel to purchase a large amount of immune system boosters (E-mergen C powder, Airborne, vitamin C stuff, etc.). We had been diligently taking our supplements about 2-3 times per day. During our long ride back from Tacloban Chantel busted out the Emergen C powder. We didn't have water to mix it with so Chantel and I poured small amounts into our mouth which would in great sourness foam up and fizzle causing us to flinch and
laugh. Walter and the others asked what it was we were eating so we shared it with them. Chantel handed them the packets and said to just put it in their mouths. Trustingly, and quite unknowingly, the Filipinos dumped the whole packet of Emergen C powder into their mouths. Their faces twisted and contorted in painful ways as we all started laughing at the reactions. Walter was coughing and tears came to his eyes as he, through coughs and laughs, asked, "Are you trying to kill me?!"
Though grave the situation we truly inherited the Filipino way -- that is to not allow any change in situation or circumstance affect the way you live, the way you treat others, or how happy you are. We were close friends, family even, though we had been together only a few days. Our bond surely was strengthened by the ineffable experiences we went through, but more than that was all of our ability to just open up and be true with one another. No reservations, no insecurities, we just were, and we existed in harmony with each other. It helped us immensely to cope with the extreme conditions and difficult scenes. We were able to spread our light with others who were discouraged or downtrodden. That is the power of human relationships.
Finally we arrived at the Tolosa Chapel as darkness signaled the end of our day. We entered the edifice greeted by children's happy screams and parents' looks of relief. We had made it in time.
Our driver was on his way to the airport to evacuate his family. They had somehow secured tickets on one of the military C-130s. Over the course of our drive into the city Mum Beth asked for his assistance with delivering the new team and relief goods past Tanauan into Tolosa. That was a fair distance to drive, especially with how scarce fuel was. The driver said he was willing though if we would supply him with the diesel required. He asked for 5 relief good bags for his family and his neighbors. Mum Beth agreed to it.
To step out of this story for a moment I feel like I should ask you... Have you seen the hand of God in all of this? Have you recognized the impossible amount of impracticalities that "conveniently" happened in such perfect succession? Can you see how we were figuratively standing still while purpose was fulfilled independent of our ability? We were used as tools to accomplish a masterfully orchestrated sequence of events that would, in the most effective and efficient way, reach those who we were supposed to help according to His designs.
Once Beth had told me our driver's willingness to help I just gawked shaking my head astonished at how perfectly everything had been falling into place.
We pushed into the city and began to see just how hard Tacloban had been hit. Unlike Tanauan, Tacloban was much more developed with malls, tall buildings, and stores. The destruction appeared less cataclysmic compared to the flattened city we were coming from, but it still was utterly devastated. We drove by a mall that was still standing but looked completely gutted. We covered our faces as that unforgettable smell of death stung our senses as we passed some rubble with the fallen trapped inside. A long line of people stood in the blazing heat in front of a military outpost that was distributing relief goods. Hundreds of people, single file, hoping for some sustenance for their survival.
Today was the day that everyone else began arriving: The Red Cross, the Salvation Army, etc. Helicopters, C-130s, and Ospreys filled the air flying to and from the airport rapidly. As we approached our destination I felt a chill run down my back. I recognized the very spot that I had seen Anderson Cooper reporting from on CNN just under a few days before reporting on the looting, chaos, and disorder of the post-storm city. I was uneasy but felt reassured as I saw some of our own US Military patrolling. Right as we pulled into a stall for the driver's family to leave a heavy storm rolled in. Big drops of rain came down in sheets as we all jumped out and ran for cover. There was only room in the front for 3 and there was 11 of us. Everyone found separate hiding spots underneath tarps, lean tos, and some just stood out in the middle of it getting completely soaked. The storm passed by quickly to be replaced again with a scorching sun that quickly dried us and began again to burn.
Throughout the day this pattern of heavy storm and immediate return to high heat continued even until the night. I think we counted six waves of storms that soaked us to the bone in the bed of that truck only to be dried a few minutes later. I was worried though. This kind of constant cold soaking and heating would cause illness very quickly in normal circumstances. However, as was the prevalent theme throughout this trip, we were mercifully protected.
After an hour or so at the airport (our driver had to ensure his family's departure) we finally headed back into the heart of the city to wind around the hill down to the port to meet our crew. As we drove through what we would call downtown, Walter began to sob softly. I asked him what he was feeling. He said he could feel the sorrow and the pain of the people there, those who had passed and those who had survived. Walter is sensitive in that way. He recalled how the city used to be the decade or so ago when he was living there. How it had changed, how it was hardly recognizable. The storm had destroyed its history.
We arrived at the port.
