It's going to be a difficult journey, we were told. But despite the forewarning, I joined the wagon of nine young men and women, all Carolinians by heart-four writers, three student leaders and two photojournalists-to brave the odds and take a decision that may cost us our very own lives.
To journey to an uncertain destination that is Mindanao, that fact alone is self-consuming to anyone. But on the other side of my consciousness, there sat the idea that this journey was something God laid out not for the nine of us, but for a purpose far bigger than our own. And so while the rest of the world jubilated in honor of the birth of Jesus, on the other hand, our team that fateful morn was set for an odyssey to where the spirit of Christmas did not abound…
We found ourselves at the hills of Trento, Agusan del Sur, and it was clear to us that there was no turning back now. The relief goods had been packed ready for distribution the next morning. Hundreds upon thousands of kilos of rice had been sealed off in sacks. The pails and cartoons upon cartoons of instant noodles and canned goods were already waiting for embarkation. Used clothing had been segregated into little packets. Our medical kits and snack bags were already kicking in excitement, too.
Little teams had been created for mobilization in such a way that in a team, there was an SVD brother, a writer and a photographer. It is necessary to mention that the municipality of Trento, where the SVD District House is and where originally the goods had been housed for repacking by several uncomplaining volunteers, was, for this mission, only the point of convergence and divergence.
Later on, these little teams will be expelled to different SVD-run parishes of Agusan del Sur, to wit: the parish of Santa Maria, which is nearest to Trento; Veruela, second nearest covering a distance of 30 kilometers from the House; Loreto, the biggest municipality in Agusan del Sur, which is 90 kilometers away; Binucayan, more or less of the same distance with Loreto; and finally, the parish of La Paz, an overwhelming 120 kilometers away from point zero.
From the very beginning, we were all briefed that we would be delegated a specific place to help in the operations, but to be sent to a place so far-flung-more like we were to travel to the tip of Cebu Province from the heart of the city-God knew all the second thoughts that resided in our hearts. But still, amid all the uncertainties lying ahead of us, there was a resounding drive in our inner selves to carry on the mission, to never hold back.
Everyone knew ever since that this was not all about us, not all about the rough roads, not all about the muddy trails or the mosquito bites. It was not even all about the SVD or JPIC-IDC that made significant contributions to this undertaking, or the priests and brothers who came along with us, or the hundreds of unrecognized institutions and individuals whose kind donations made all this mission possible. The overpowering fact was, this was all about the people-the hungry, the thirsty, the bare and unclothed-our brethrens in Mindanao who were left lonely and hopeless by Typhoon Pablo.
Yes, Typhoon Pablo became the jumpstart for this mission, but hope and compassion will be its intended aftermaths. Now and more than ever, clinched with a courageous spirit, we were all ready for the greatest adventure of our lives. Tabang Agusan was about to be carried out to actuality.
And so to Loreto, I and Brother Errol were bound. Our “habal-habal†easily scaled through the thick fogs of Agusan that chilly morning of December 28. The damp air brushed through our faces as often as the motorbike's tires reeled through the holes on the road.