I am hoping this post will not be too long,
but I have to admit that two weeks is a lot of time. Lots have happened, yet,
nothing was out of the ordinary. After acting as an amateur guide around Seoul
for nearly three days, my friends and I took a plane to the Philippines on the
first day of 2014. I had barely prayed about this trip, so I was a bit hesitant
to jump on board. Then again, I really had not been praying much, ever since summer
break was over at the least.
Because of the serious disaster that occurred
in the region, my parents were worried about me going. My friend did make some
changes, so we were actually nowhere near the site of destruction. Most of my
friends thought I was going there as a mission trip or as volunteer service,
but the truth is that I was too lazy to find a project group.
The three of us landed in Manila around midnight.
Since the whole trip was built around the notion of poor kids traveling, we
spent the night sleeping in a remote area in the airport. As much as it was
exciting to be adventurous, I got cold quickly with regrets growing slowly inside.
We took another plane to Tuguegarao. It took an hour, but it was enough time to
change the environment completely. Tuguegarao was indeed a developing town,
mostly a place known to be the center of transportation. It seemed like the hub
to get to other regions of the country. More time was spent on transportation.
After a four hour crunched up in a little van filled with too many people, we
arrived in Santa Ana, still yet another town young at its technological
pollutions.
The sky was indeed blue and the ocean,
endless. As much as it was difficult to get there, being surrounded by nature
really helped me get back in the right mind. Nature was big. God was big. My
world was small. I was small. I would not say I found my humility again, but I certainly
had time to reflect on it.
Santa Ana had many scrappy people. The
market was small and quiet, yet bustling with energy. We stayed at a neat
resort, and we were able to kayak a bit into quiet, peaceful waters. We also
hiked to a lighthouse in an island, while getting in some snorkeling time as
well. A trip to the aborigine village and a little adventure into the woods was
also part of the itinerary. At the end of our days in Santa Ana, we were fortunate
enough to sit around the chat with the resort owner. He would tell us about the
country, the people, and their culture along with the history. Meeting good
people certainly was a running theme in this trip. Most of the people we met
were eager to help.
A little side note: My friends who were
white got a lot of attention from the locals. I, on the other hand, was trying
to blend in as best as possible. I even let my bear grow. Whether or not it was
the beard or just that Koreans were more common in the Philippines, I certainly
got less attention as the days went on.
We traveled on to Tabuk, Bantoc and Banaue
via bus. It is marvelous how the scenery can change so quickly. At one hour we
were in a bustling city. The next hour would lead us into a seaside village,
while another would have us in the middle of mountains with houses built on the
edge. Traveling about in Batad was truly dangerous. I had not thought about it
when I had gotten there, but after having sprained my ankle, I quickly saw how
it could only get worse from there. Steep rice terraces were only connected by
tiny rocks protruding from the walls. With each morning dewdrop, the steps
would turn slippery, not to mention mud covering half the way.
Though nature was at its finest there, I
had trouble sleeping yet again. The huts we stayed in had such strong mold
odor, and the walls did little to keep the cold mountain air out at night. A
little fire helped bring the heat up, but the smoke would soon amass in the
hut, forcing us to open the window soon. I am certain that I enjoyed my time in
the Philippines, despite my seemingly negative whining in the writings, but
most of the memories would be built on the tough times I had, allowing me to
feel stronger about myself having gone through the rigors of nature.
There could be so much more that could be
said, but my final comment would be this. It was fascinating to see Bible
verses written on public, governmental boards. Christian music would be playing
at the most random places, while churches were always in sight. Though I had
not planned it, the trip certainly was a vision trip in many aspects. I was
able to get a sense of how life would be if I were a missionary in a tropical
region. Perhaps a quiet, simple life would be possible, but I could not picture
myself in such a place. North Korea was still in sight. These people here had
God engraved in their hearts. At the least there culture was deep within the
Christian grasp. They had no need of me. Though I have no confidence in what I
say here, again, as I am desperately lacking in prayer, but I had strong
feelings leaning towards North Korea. Who else but us, fellow Koreans?
Hopefully, the trip was led on by God,
despite my lack of love. Hopefully, I had not wasted my time in the
Philippines, for all is meaningless without Him, while all is meaningful with
Him.
