Our schedule for today’s preaching took us out of Baybay to
work with a small church in a rural area. By “rural,” I do not mean that was
just separated by physical distance from the city, but also by style and
practices. The dwellings in the area were almost all made of bamboo and thatch.
The fragrant scent wafting over the area left no doubt that the crops had been
very recently and heavily fertilized. It was also obvious that having a white
American to visit was an oddity for those of the area, especially the children.
(I know how a goldfish in a bowl feels.) The little ones especially wanted to
touch my arms, evidently to see if the white rubbed off.
After checking out of our hotel, we loaded up in the van at
8:30am to head south of Ormoc. To get around in areas where no brethren have
reliable transportation, we rent a van and driver to take us to the venues.
Jonathan makes those arrangements as he can communicate in the dialect and can
get a better price as a Filipino than I could possibly get as an American.
(When the average Filipino sees an American, the price of whatever is being
sold goes up four-fold or more.) For today’s journey to Baybay and on to
Tacloban, he was able to find a new van and its owner to drive.
It is usually a drive of about one hour to drive from Ormoc
to Baybay. This morning, it took about half of that time. It seems our driver
mistook me for a NASCAR owner and was auditioning to be a race car driver. Only
two things need to work for this guy’s vehicle – the accelerator and the horn.
Both received liberal use today. On the way to Baybay, our driver moved to pass
another van which must have been driven by his twin. On roads that are safe up
to 45mph at most, we were stuck in the left lane of the two lane highway with
traffic oncoming quickly as these guys had a drag race at about 70-80mph. It
was a long day of riding with this guy, though that may be good since I was
convinced at several points that it might be over rather quickly.
Once we arrived at the building of the small congregation
with whom Juanito Escuadra labors, we immediately started with the preaching.
The first lesson was again “Salvation and the Seed, the Gospel of Christ” with
some fundamental points on authority. About 95% of the audience understood
little or no English and the vast majority were Catholics. We changed our
lessons significantly to meet those needs. I abbreviated my presentation of the
sermon and Jonathan then used my charts to go over the lesson in some detail in
the local dialect, Cebuano. In an effort to get as much material as possible
before the audience, Jonathan then presented a lesson on the church before we
broke for lunch.
During the lunch break, brother Juanito’s wife informed me
that their daughter had given birth yesterday. The little girl was lying on the
bed all wrapped up in a blanket and knit cap. I was informed that the child was
being named “Hara” since I had come to visit. I gave my deepest apologies to
the child and headed back to the building.
In the afternoon session, I taught a lesson on “New
Testament Baptism” that dealt with the subject in detail as Juanito had
requested. Jonathan then took my charts and presented it in detail using the
dialect. Brother Juanito extended the invitation and Jack Jaco led “I Surrender
All.” One man responded to the invitation and was baptized into Christ.
Since we had a two hour drive to Tacloban, we took off
immediately on the road in an effort to get there before dark. Amidst the
constant panic punctuate by moments of sheer terror from the driving, I caught
quick glimpses of scenery in the countryside that were remarkably beautiful. The
lush green mountains and beautiful valleys as we crossed through the middle of
Leyte wer sights I had never seen before. As we got closer to what they call
“the Pacific side” of the island, there were also stunning views of the sea. In
the midst of all the splendor of the natural display, there were the striking
examples of deep poverty so prevalent in this country.
Despite the best efforts of our driver, we arrived safely in
Tacloban without hitting a single motorcycle, tricycle, car or truck – though we
closely examined a large number. What a day!
