Homegrown Harvesters: Lifting the spirits in Mansawan -- Subanen outreach Part 3

Queen Bee getting ready for the trip in her sarong and
borrowed Alabama national championship hat.

Our final journey into the mountains of Mindanao was to visit the village of Mansawan, affectionately known as the Beehive. My hostess for the trip, Aiza Buyog, is from Mansawan. Her family name means "Bee," and most of her family fled the threat of communist rebels in the mountains to live on the plain.

However, her father and some relatives still live on the mountain, and thus I call it the Beehive, since we were going to see so many Buyogs.

We had a couple of purposes to the trip. First, since Aiza and the entire church are praying for me to marry Aiza, I had to meet her father. Second, Aiza's brother, Ronilo, founded the church in Mansawan. He also fled the rebels and now preaches in Lingasad, Polanco. However, the church in Mansawan is his extension church.

Pastor Romolu Yarag, left, and
Pastor Mario Montero take a break
from riding the motorbike up
the mountain.

Of all the trips into the mountains, the Mansawan trip was probably the hardest. Characteristically unpaved, the road also was very steep in many places. The village was high up on the mountain, and the rocky, muddy road was too rough for us all to ride on the motorbikes. In fact, at some points we had to push the motorbike up the mountain. Rather exhausting.

Joining us was Pastor Romolu Yarag, who is a pastor to the Subanen near Salug. He preaches in the mountain, and he is supported by Pastor Mario Montero. Those two, as well as Pastor Buyog, Peter Buyog, Joel and Leah Elorta, the Queen Bee, and I all made the trip up the mountain.

Part of the way up the mountain, Queen Bee's uncle met us with a horse. I think I was supposed to ride it, but I felt it more appropriate to help the others push their bikes up the mountain. So Leah took my spot.

Queen Bee and Leah horsing around.

Mansawan from the viewpoint of the high school.

The views going up the mountain were spectacular. It was a very steep climb, and we stopped along the way to view the villages or the scenery. Pastor Buyog was driving the motorbike I rode, and he was a bit more of a risk-taker than the other drives at times.

Finally, we arrived in Mansawan. The air was very thin up there. In fact, we were above the clouds. When the fog rolled in later that day, it had to roll up to us.

One of the first people I met was Papa Bee, the father of mga Buyog (mga is the plural form for a noun; I'm just trying to appear smart for a moment and show off my limited Visaya). Not long after that, I met his mother, Aiza's grandmother. As is customary in the Philippines, she was rather blunt. She asked through an interpreter, "Are you the one to marry Aiza?" My standard response, "I'm praying about that."

Papa Bee

The family is not rich, but they treated us with great hospitality. We ate lunch there, and one menu item was a dish involving coconut milk, rice, pineapples and a bunch of other stuff. My indulgence in said goodness may have contributed to the sickness I suffered that night and the next day.

The church is right next to the family's home. Even though it was a Friday, we held a service with the intent of encouraging the believers who remained in the village. Many of the church members had fled the threat of trouble, so the church was greatly reduced in members.

Before the service, the church members gave a love offering for all of us travelers. They gave cabbage, "cute" pineapples and chayote. (Where we were, "cute" meant "little." Up in Mansawan, the pineapples did not grow very large, so they were called "cute" pineapples. No one ever referred to my nose as "cute.")

Our love offering from the people in Mansawan.

Unlike other expeditions into the mountains, the focus was not to share the Gospel. The people in attendance here were already believers. Instead, we tried to encourage them to persevere in their difficult circumstances. The mountains are rife with rebellion by the New People's Army. Much like the American war in Vietnam, the civilians often get caught in the crossfire.

So, my message for these people was from 2 Kings 5. I encouraged them with the story of Naaman, how his conversion and healing were brought about by the testimony of an orphaned slave girl in his household. It amazes me how God often uses the disadvantaged to accomplish His purpose.

I preach, with Pastor Mario interpreting.

After my sermon, Pastor Buyog encouraged the members further. I have no idea what he said, though, because he spoke in either Visaya or, more likely, Subanen. Even Pastor Mario, my host pastor, does not understand Subanen.

After the service ended, Aiza's father gave me a chicken. The chicken endured the drive down the mountain, and it enjoyed a few days of living at the church in Punta. My last night in the Philippines was the chicken's last night on earth. She made an enjoyable dinner.