San Jose and our Introduction to Tabgon

I am now internet famous. Or at least that's how I felt when the Facebook reel I made in Salvacion got to over 1,000 views. It featured me groggily describing how I was getting a time lapse video while Kendall preached, and how I was roasting in the sun in one of the prettiest places to do such a thing.

I say "groggily" because the sun has a way of baking my brain to the point where it doesn't respond as well as usual. Like a bandaid on a kids dirty knee, my thoughts just wouldn't quite stick. Thankfully we had an extended car ride and a hotel stay in Naga in which to recouperate.

On the drive into Naga we saw our very first (obvious) car accident, or at least the aftermath of one, where a white freight truck and an orange Toyota had bumped into each other. The damage was minor, but it still amazes us that we have seen so few collisions in our extensive driving here.

That evening we got to do our first stay of the trip in the town of Naga. Dale had told us that Naga was our last real "modern" city before going out to "the provinces", so it would make an ideal spot for any last-minute shopping. The CBD [that's Central Buisiness District, you goofballs] Plaza Hotel was indeed a completely normal hotel: there was a toilet AND shower! Not everyone has the things here that we take for granted in the US. There wasn't, however, a door to the shower so it was impossible to bathe and not get water everywhere. Since at this point I still didn't have a good idea of how the Filipino bathroom situation works (known here as a CR, or comfort room), I guess I could chalk up my inability to not make a mess without a fully-enclosed shower stall to my American upbringing. Or that I'm too much of a coward to just ask someone.

(not pictured: Jollibee rice cakes, burger steaks, or spaghetti)

There was a bus depot and a mall right across the street so we availed ourselves of some shopping and our first experience with the wildly popular original Filipino food chain: Jollibee!

Two buckets of chicken, some rice, tiny cups of ice cream, and some lemonade later we were strolling about the mall, eager to discover the differences between the mall shopping here and in the US. Turns out, they are about the same, just with some things priced WILDLY differently. It was weird being in such a commercialized location after spending so many days out among the people in the rural areas of the island. We got a few souvenirs, fancy coffee, a spare set of headphones, and then marveled at one of the most miraculous things we had encountered the entire trip: movie tickets for just $4.84 with a free bottle of water thrown in. This truly is a land of wonders. How we wish we could still attend a movie for that price in the US. Point, Philippines.

Kendall says the gas here fluctuates between $4.50 and $5.50/gallon, so some things are expensive everywhere.

The evening at the CBD Plaza Hotel was just the recuperation Kendall and I needed. The break from the heat and humidity helped my brain and body prepare for the next leg of our journey: San Jose.

It wasn’t an early morning start, which was awesome! Well, except that we were both awake by 6:00 am or whatever. All these days start so early and end just late enough to bring us to the cusp of being overtired, but so far the line hasn't been crossed.

On a very serious note I can say this has got to be our heavenly father looking out for us. I've been to the edge of exhaustion and gone over it before, and know what it's like to be bereft of my ability to function because of fatigue. We keep coming close, but never truly cross over that line.

The rest we needed, not the rest we deserved

Dale had told us that there was a catholic cathedral in Tigaon, a town along the way, that would provide me with some good drone visuals. He was familiar with it because it was close to the bus terminal, and back in the day that was the way he had to get around most of the island: crowded, hot buses. Oh, and boats. He’s done plenty of travel on boats. Boats were the only way he could travel to the other side of the island back in the day and it was a great example of the sorts of real adventures that he has experienced in his time in The Philippines.

According to Dale the trip from Manila to the town of Tabgon would start with a bus ride that left Manila around 8:00 pm and arrived in the town of Sabgon around 6:00am. There passenger boats would be waiting but because of the shallow water they couldn't get all the way to shore, especially during low tide. What the boat people would have to do is carry the luggage, and the people, one by one out to the boat, which according to Dale was always a big task for them when he was the one riding on their shoulders since he is about 6’4”. He assures us, however, that he never once fell off into the drink. The boats were usually overfull, and the going was slow in inclement weather and waves would slosh over the sides a lot, but in calm weather it was an enjoyable 2 hour ride around the peninsula and the port town of Guialo, on then on to the coastal village of Tabgon where everyone and their luggage would once again be unloaded one by one in the shallow water.

San Jose was a very pretty area. Lots of fields, interspaced with clumps of trees, and in the distance a big old volcano., the side of it's caldera having caved in eons ago. Again we were greeted with food, and there was a lot more people to meet in San Jose than in Ragay or Navotas. Living right next to the church was Pastor Benjamin Corral and his family. He's an older guy, and we interviewed him, his daughter Raquel, and his nephew John. John was a hoot, and a very active person with the church youth because as is a recent college graduate (though he looked like he was 18, he was actually 22 and works on big ships for a living). Raquel, too, had many responsibilities in the San Jose church and has long been a very active part of the ministry there. The both of them spoke very good English, and Raquel had the most adorable little 1 year old daughter ever.

This was a good interview day, but difficult because while the Ragay church was up on a hill overlooking a busy highway, the San Jose church was about 10 feet from one. I officially gave up on the concept of having noise-free interviews this day, a decision I do not regret.

I was also able to do some more refining of my drone technique here because it was easy to take off here with hardly any power lines to avoid. It was also the start of my favorite trend of the trip: Drone = Kid Magnet. There were a few kids hanging around the church all day, and some teenagers were lurking about doing practice for their evening worship. Whenever I would take the drone for a spin it would ALWAYS draw attention, but when I would bring it back I would notice a curious kid or two closeby. So I did what I always do: turned the screen towards them and showed them what I had shot. This was almost always an instant hit. Soon I would have a gaggle of youngsters surrounding me, patiently watching as I reviewed my footage and pictures. When I flew it that evening to try out it's "night mode" one teenager wouldn't leave in spite of her friends constantly yelling at her to join them. I can't remember what exactly was said, but at least 4 times the friends would say something like "Come on, get over here!", and she, eyes glued to the flight controller screen, would respond along the lines of "Just a minute! Hold on!". It was a good experience, and I'm happy when I can share these sorts of moments with the people here.

Midway through the day we also took a trip down the road to San Jose proper, as the church itself was a few miles out of town. The intent was to get drone footage of the catholic chapel there, but what it turned into was Kendall finally getting to play basketball with some local kids. The chapel is right next to the community center, a place where the church hosted many events like concerts and film showings, and wouldn't you know it there were three kids playing basketball in there. While I slowly got the drone ready to fly we convinced Kendall it was finally the time to defend the honor of America by playing against the native people of the Philippines, and to his credit he did an awesome job, just not in the way one would expect. In the end playing basketball was simply a good way to connect with people in a manner that wasn't directly church related, much like my time with the drone now that I think about it.

Kendall (unsuccessfully) defending America’s honor

Sadly, though, the honor of America was forever tarnished because Kendall lost the game. The two kids on the opposing team were pretty good, able to move quickly, and make their shots almost every time. Kendall had been sitting in a car all day, had to play in his bare feet, and was dealing with the oppressive heat. Plus the kid on Kendall's team was a little on the short side... for a hobbit. While Kendall may have lost the game, he did gain some time to recreate while in his non-church element. I was proud of my friend.

Also, later on Kendall recruited John in a plot to go back and totally school those kids.

The "church event" we had been told would happen that evening turned out to be the youth group doing a LONG worship service followed by Kendall doing his message. It was fun, and I very much enjoyed watching the kids sing and my friend as he did his work. I especially enjoyed some of the worship stuff. The lead vocalist was exceedingly enthusiastic and I'll have a good time re-listening to some of the songs when I'm doing my editing later. The teenage team had a TON of talent! Drums, keyboard, electric guitar, bass guitar, and multiple vocalists: they kicked butt, and could honestly transition their skills to something bigger with more practice.

And then things got awkward.

I was standing at the back of the room, patiently waiting for whatever was going to happen next, when John (who had been running the service) came up to me, put his arm around my shoulder, and asked if it was alright if I came up and shared my testimony...

My first question was how long until it happened?

He told he it would be in the next minute.

I panicked a little.

I'd been told a month ago that I would need to be ready to talk about myself, which I was ready for. I hadn't been ready to share my testimony, though. Why? Because I haven't been able to even figure out HOW to share it in my own church! I'd tried for years to think of what my testimony even was and had never been able to give a straight answer. It's not very specific, kind of confusing, and in my opinion I didn't exactly have anything inspiring to say. So of course John wanted me to share it in front of a room full of strangers. So I did the only sensible thing and said no, I wasn't ready. John said that was ok.

And 45 seconds later I went up and delivered my testimony anyways.

Courage isn't one of my salient strengths, but a part of me knew that this was one of those things that if I didn't give it a shot I wouldn't have an opportunity like it ever again. So... I winged it!

I had three things going for me. First was that I already had an introduction I'd worked out, though it was originally going to be the entirety of what I had planned on saying. The second was that everything I said had to go through a translator, giving me long pauses to work out what I would say next. Third, I was already sweating and a little red-faced so any nervousness had some camouflage.

My intro, as planned, went something like this: I'd get up and introduce myself, then tell them I was from a "cowboy state". Then I'd teach the audience how to say "Hello" in cowboy, which was "Howdy". This went over very well! Then I winged the rest, and if it hadn't been done in this time, and this place, in this particular way, I would have said that I'd done a terrible job. Kendall, Lyn, and everyone else had a different opinion though. They all had high praise for me, for which I am grateful. I did have the presence of mind to end by teaching the audience to say "goodbye" in cowboy, which was "so long". This also went over well. Then Dale got up next and wrapped up what I was trying to say in a much more succinct fashion than I had done. I would later tell him thank you for the save, to which he said "Thank you for the introduction!". He's a good guy.

Hopefully my attempt at a testimony helped to tell the gospel in some small way, as that is really the reason why we're here at all: to be witnesses to Christ through his gospel. All I can do is have faith that I said something that needed to be said to someone who needed to hear it.

After some more worship we wrapped up the evening, our second major church event under our belts and plenty of memories to keep forever. Oh, and Kendall kept saying I was now an international speaker. So I got that going for me.

I wouldn't be surprised if #howdy were trending after the evening in San Jose. "Howdy" turned into the way that everyone was greeting each other for the rest of the evening, which made me a little proud but also a little scared: had I somehow damaged the effectiveness of my witness by using cowboy terminology? Only time will tell.

It was no surprise that after our eventful evening in San Jose, and another sweltering night in the church sanctuary (with very little wind), we would be exhausted. Exhausted indeed we were. But special moments have a funny effect on exhaustion. The youth (group?) of the church who had led our worship earlier, are a very passionate group for the Lord and each other. They spent the evening after the event sitting on the front porch singing worship songs together. Like sitting around an old campfire with your best friends, and nothing but an acoustic guitar and the sounds of the night to accompany the symphony of voices. Taking the advice of a much more experienced mission-video-guy, Mark Hanson, I set up my audio recorder to capture them (about 10-12 teenagers in all) singing worship songs like Oceans along with an acoustic guitar. It was a beautiful thing, seeing them singing together, with Dale sitting there in a chair, taking it in while a little boy sat with him. Dale said this is a common thing for them whenever he makes his way to town. And it makes one wonder how we take such a small act of community for granted where we are from. They are close to one another, because they need to be close to one another. Here, this version of Christianity is the minority, and they need to know that they are not alone.

The most wonderful music I’ve ever heard. I only wish I had more energy to continue hearing it.

Dale is a father figure to so many of the people here, and is constantly being referred to as "dad", or something similar. He's done a great job during his time here in filling the holes in people's hearts for with the good news of the gospel and the love of Jesus, but he has also filled the hole's left by absent dads. That's been one of my favorite things to witness in my time here; how easily he interacts with kids and former kids alike. They always seem to find him very approachable, which upon further thought is likely a big factor in why he's been so successful here! As he has told us in interviews and phone calls, VBS is one of the best tools to bring local people into the church. While he doesn't run individual children's events like VBS or Sunday school it's obvious that his very presence is, in itself, a way of drawing kids in. So while the teenagers sang praises Dale just sat and enjoyed it.

Kendall once again beat me to the blissful release of sleep. His snoring confirms this. Though I was determined to get my tasks done I'd begun to stumble around and forget what I was doing, so I reluctantly gave it up. I passed out on my air mattress in my sweat-soaked clothes from the day, feeling extra slimy but unable to care.

The good news, at least, was that we didn't have to make an early start the next day! Some extra sleep would do us good. In spite of getting to bed around midnight we all inexplicably started to wake up around 5:30 am. It makes no sense, but we did. Again. It turns out that this has happened every single day we've been here. I tried to take advantage of it, though, by doing another thing Mark Hanson suggested: get up and film early in the morning. So even though it was pitch black outside I got to work with an attempt at a sunrise time-lapse and practicing my new habit of getting audio recordings of an area's background noise, or "nat sound", for use in drone sequences. The time-lapse turned out mediocre, and I was reminded that it's very difficult to ever actually capture an image of a sunrise that gives it justice. God is a better painter than we will ever be able to photograph. The magic of the moment is something intangible and needs to be experienced in person. So I resolved to make an odd attempt at it here and there, but not to put much work into the attempts since chance, not effort, would determine my success in this venture.

In a few hours we were able to get moving and on our way to Tabgon, Caramoan on the far side of a mountain range from San Jose. As we prepared to leave, though, I experienced the first time on the trip where I noticed that I had formed an emotional bond with our hosts, and I quickly realized that being able to speak with them so easily in English, and therefore just communicating with them more in general, was more important than I had understood it to be. I resolved to be more active in building the same types of relationships here that I would have been making if I was staying at someone's house in the US.

The drive to Caramoan from San Jose was, like all the driving here, twisty, bumpy, and slower than what we are used to in the USA. In many ways the drive between San Jose and Caramoan is comparable to the one between Red Lodge and Cooke City. Both have a good amount of changes in elevation, both are winding, and both take about 2.5 hours. They differ in that, mile for mile, this one is half the distance. Also, the roads are far bumpier so we are constantly slowing down and weaving all over the road to avoid rough spots. Also, as much as I love the view from the Beartooth pass it was tough to beat the sights along the road. The jungle is so cool, and for a brief moment as we went over the top of the mountain we looked out and could see vast expanses of jungle valleys on either side that just went on for miles, sloping down in both directions and off into the distance.

Kendall would excel at driving here. He and the Filippinos both tend to think of the painted lanes like Captain Barbosa viewed The Pirate Code: they're more guidelines than actual rules.

This leg of the trip also gave us the best views of the ocean we had experienced yet. We kept getting tantalizing glimpses of it as we winded through the hills and along the coast, but when we finally arrived at the Tabgon church we all spent our first few minutes just taking pictures of the view.

The view from Faith, Hope & Love Church, Tabgon, Caramoan

The church is, like Ragay, up on the side of a hill/mountain. You'd never have been able to really see the way the Caramoan church is perched on this hill (the only structure on it) without the aerial view from the drone. It's gorgeous. The steps leading up to the church are cool, too, because they're very wide and the last portion of them were completed using a work crew from Havre. As we got up the steps we were greeted by a group of the church matriarchs (for lack of a better term), and once again there was an amazing meal for us.

It was a good afternoon there. We were able to pull off an interview with Raphael, a former elder who helped hold the church together for many years when they didn't have a pastor. We also weren't in a rush for once so I was able to really take my time just looking around the area. We were right up next to the jungle so the amount of sounds from native birds, bugs, and lizards was intriguing and I found it was easy to just sit and take it all in: the view, the sounds, the sea breaze, the smells. However, there is one particular type of Cicada-ish bug that I really could have done without: Dori Dori. They were LOUD and consistently LOUD. I'll have one heck of a time trying to edit around their noise, which is roughly the equivalent of having a semi truck with a double trailer barreling by at 60 mph every minute and a half...

Maybe a Dori Dori? This one lacks the tiny maracas they all apparently have.

Most of our meals in Caramoan were seafood because Tabgon is a coastal town. I loved that I could eat fresh fish that were caught that very day, and within a mile of where we were sitting, but I felt out of place trying to accomplish eating them. Especially the little crabs they cooked up for us. I looked forward to eating one of them, but we had nothing to crack the shells with which left me at a distinct disadvantage to the other times I'd eaten fresh crab. That, and they were spikey little buggers. Even in death they defied the humans who preyed upon them by stabbing my fingers or lip every time I attempted to get a grip on them. Sharky enjoyed them though.

The biggest success of the day was actually the interview we did after walking down to the boat dock. It was time for Arnel to talk to us, and he did GREAT. He's been very close to Dale for a long time, and he's very active in the church. He's kind of the second in command, as Kendall and I understand it, and he was comfortable enough with us that he got vulnerable a few times during his interview. I started to REALLY feel like we had some good interviews "in the can" (done and recorded) after Arnel's time because those vulnerable moments, those TRUE moments, are interview gold. They are where real people meet our work here, and the reason why we came.

Speaking of Arnel, the more he and I get to know each other the more we seem to have in common. In many ways he and I both serve the same sorts of roles in our churches: we fix tech stuff, we man the booths during services, and we struggle in vain against the people on the worship team messing with everything. Also, we have the same Sony headphones. Twinning. He also has "stolen" my hat a few times. I'm making a friend!

The most memorable part of the day, though, came when we had walked back to the church and I decided to take the drone for a twilight flight using its "night mode", knowing now that once the sun was down it would be too dark for anything after my night flights in San Jose. I took off and buzzed over the town, getting some gorgeous stuff of the catholic church's lit-up steeple.

I was landing the drone in front of the church when I heard the scampering of many small feet and calls of "Drone! Drone!". It would seem that I'd caught the attention of a gang of local kids who were following my drone as it flew over their houses. I had a fun time (once again) showing them the stuff I'd shot, and pretty soon I (once again) was surrounded by kids, all watching the footage and pictures I'd just taken. As I suspected, the drone is a kid magnet.

That night was one of the nicest ones we had had in terms of heat because the sea breeze was almost constant. There were a lot more bugs, though, so it was hard to relax knowing they were around somewhere, buzzing loudly overhead and apparently ready and willing to spontaneously die and fall down to the church floor. Also, the worship team was practicing and setting up late for the next day's festivities so getting to bed was another challenging affair, but probably only for Kendall and I. We of course don’t mind. We are just happy to be a part of everything here.

Have I regressed in age, or just mental capacity? If given the choice, which should I pick?

On a side note, Kendall and I have determined that the humidity must have some sort of regenerative properties along the equator because we consistently under-estimate the ages of the people here. Our driver, Joseph, is pushing 50 but looks 40. Arnel is 50 but looks maybe 42, his little sister (and our translator) Jocelyn can't be older than 45 but looks like she is in her late 30's, and every time we tried to guess the ages of the teenagers they've turned out to be an age bracket above what they look like. Maybe I'll come back looking 37? Wouldn't that be nice...

We all settled in and went to sleep, hoping to be prepared for the festivities the next day.

In the eyes of the ocean, I am endless.

The Road Journey Begins