Typhoon Haiyan Relief Effort: The Last Chapel

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.

----

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.