Mountain Village, Philippines

Several of the younger generation (mostly guys in teens and 20s) at our congregation routinely visit villages and small churches up in the mountains. The places they go are only accessible by motorcycle and on foot. For some of their routes they leave their motorcycles at the last village accessible by trail and then walk a few more hours. For some, they walk their motorcycles part way.

Last week they took my husband with them, something they’ve all be wanting to do for a while, but it isn’t always safe. There are rebel soldiers in some areas, and frankly, out in the mountains you don’t necessarily want to have a run-in with government soldiers, either. In fact, they had to change their plans 3/4 of the way there, because at the place where they left the motorcycles they were told rebel army and government soldiers had been spotted in the area they planned to go, so they should visit somewhere else. They did. They still had a small meeting with a couple government soldiers. One of the young preachers was filming some of their visit and the soldiers were concerned that he was filming them. They came to the home where the guys were staying and asked him questions about who they were, why they were there, and had him show them all the images on his camera so they could make sure he wasn’t filming them. My husband, for a brief and foolish moment considered surreptitiously taking a picture of them because soldiers in uniform with their very large and obvious weapons questioning our preacher friend is the kind of picture the folks at home would just love to see. But then he remembered it wasn’t only himself he was placing at risk, so he didn’t. I punched him in the arm anyway when he told me about it, just for thinking about it.

Pictures below:

 

That bridge:

One of the churches they visited:

 

 

Drying cacao:

Beautiful:

House where they slept- six on the floor, two in a bed:

 

Laundry room:

 

Leaving motorcycles with a friend, they start walking.

The road narrows to a mud path.  My husband took off his shoes about here:

Tramline: You can walk it- that’s what people did to get from village to the other before the tramline went in. It’s a steep walk and you have to cross a river. But it’s free. The tramline is about half a day’s wages.

 

This is back in our neighbourhood, just a couple blocks from home:

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2 Comments

  1. Posted October 25, 2018 at 11:57 pm | Permalink

    That bridge… the whole place looks amazing. I wish I could come hang out for a few weeks.

    • Headmistress
      Posted October 26, 2018 at 9:24 am | Permalink

      Last night one of the young preachers sent me video he’d taken of my husband crossing the bridge. It’s much more rickety than it looks like from the still pictures!

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