Having been forced into early retirement from UNICEF, I became interested in doing a short time working for an NGO that a had a mandate aligned with UNICEF, but which preferred not to pay me at all. However, not being numbered amongst the independently wealthy, I finally accepted a tour with OXFAM in the Philippines as a volunteer – paid per month what UNICEF would normally pay per day. Oh, well, you can’t win them all. At least they didn’t expect me to pay my own airfare to Mindanao, and food was provided as part of the package.
Mindanao, a very large island at the southern end of the Philippine archipelago, demographically is quite mixed. Where the Philippines is mainly south Asian and Christian, Mindanao was mixed Muslim/Christian with one political group – the Moro – seeking to become self governing. While there was an agreement between the Government and the Moro to set up the ARMM (Autonomous Region of Muslim Mindanao), there was a splinter group known as the MILF (Mindanao Islamic Liberation Front) that sought to rebel against the agreement and fight to secede. The administration in Manila, the capital, found this to be a challenge too far and the army was sent to Mindanao. Sadly, the army was rather too proactive and many civilians were caught in the crossfire. A number of makeshift IDP (Internally Displaced People) camps were created for which OXFAM was attempting to provide some basic services. My remit was water, sanitation and hygiene.
A violent Islamic fundamentalist group known as Abu Sayyaf was operating on the southwestern fringes of Mindanao, and the Filipino army seemed not to differentiate between the Moro, the MILF, Abu Sayyaf and non-aligned civilians who were mostly very poor agricultural workers concerned mostly about simple survival. Naturally, there were many casualties and shell-shock was seen frequently.
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The arrival:
I was met in Manila by local staff, made welcome by being taken to eat Filipino food in the market (delicious) and thence back to the home of the OXFAM, Philippines, Chief, where she had turfed out her mother to provide a room for me where I could sleep to catch up on some of the jet lag which the flights caused. I didn’t meet mother to apologise for this inconvenience, but was told that she was often made to sofa-surf like this to accommodate the occasional expatriate consultant or staff member. Who would be an OXFAM staff mother ?
Next morning, I was well ‘prepped’ by the Chief, and looked forward to some new adventures. I was shuffled off to the airport for the flight which took us direct to General Santos over the archipelago’s volcanic remains and lush growth, where I was met by the OXFAM accountant, Judith (not her actual name), who had been given the task of being my ‘minder’.
Having a personal ‘minder’ was not to ensure that I didn’t spy on anyone, but rather purely for my own safety – so they said. This was because expatriates were sometimes targeted by the Abu Sayyaf rebels for ransom. Not knowing how fierce/cruel they could be, I decided to accept my lot of being looked after by a pleasant female accountant.
Perhaps I should elaborate here a bit. Judith was charming, delightful and – as I discovered later – a very astute professional. I was in good hands. You’d better believe it as she was built like a Sumo wrestler and I had no doubt whatsoever that if she saw someone whom she felt was a threat to me, all she needed to do was lean on them.
Apparently, some time before I arrived, an expatriate woman had been kidnapped by the Abu Sayyaf rebels and placed in one of their dugout canoes – which immediately sank due to her girth. They abandoned her in disgust. Perhaps the rebels should have known that ‘size matters’ ? Whatever the case, I was far too light to feel safe without some added weight, so Judith was ideal, and we had many good laughs during this time.
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The settling in:
I am quite deaf – the result of meningitis as a child – which means that barking dogs and cats caterwauling normally don’t affect me. I was to discover that Filipino dogs have very loud voices and twice we had to relocate so that I could get some sleep. The accommodation provided was in line with that to be expected for a volunteer. Fleas and bed bugs came as extras though we were provided with mosquito nets.
The bird life on Mindano is colourful and noisy – especially the parakeets and mynahs. While looking into the trees to see the birds, I noticed that there were many tree orchids, too. With the steamy atmosphere, everything grew vigorously, including the mosquitoes.
Talking of noise, the Army contributed their share. Army personnel liked to Video-oke (the film version of Karaoke) usually when fully tanked up on alcohol which was a frequent affair, and I think many of them felt they had good voices though the jury was out most of the time on that score. They did, however, manage much volume. Between dogs, cats and the Army, it’s a wonder that I got any sleep at all.
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Local transport systems:
Transport on Mindanao is different from anything I’d met before. Definitely suited to the environment. ‘Skylab’ motorcycle arrangements where a single machine could carry up to ten people were standard, and the open-sided Jeepney buses were ubiquitous. Who needs air-conditioning when one simply sits under a roof ? When it rains, it saves having to use the shower though clothes do take some time to dry out.
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Getting down to work:
My immediate OXFAM counterpart – imaginatively named ‘Engineer’ – was of Chinese extraction and came with a work ethic to envy. Absolutely nothing would stop him and I cannot be credited for any of the work that was accomplished for water and sanitation as he did everything. When it came to technical discussions, he was the proverbial sponge and would not let me off until he fully understood every nuance of the profession. As the Philippines has created a range of imaginative handpumps with a wide variation in effectiveness, it became a badge of honour for ‘Engineer’ to brand the next version as ’OK’, ‘No-OK’ or ‘Velly bad’. He got them right every time.
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Handling on-site excreta disposal in a hot and steamy environment was not for the faint of heart. It was always the least attractive – but most necessary – aspect of public health in displaced communities, and ‘Engineer’ seemed completely immune to the smells. Many were the times when we had to deal with plastic bags of human excrement which had been used to avoid open defecation, and we found the evening shower on return from the field, an essential.
A lightbulb moment came for ‘Engineer’ when I was able to tell him about some UNICEF work on various simple latrine types in Bangladesh from the early 1980s. Because of the way in which the latrines had been evaluated, it wasn’t just the main purpose (excreta disposal) that was noted, but also the degree of privacy which the associated superstructures provided. We found that the dominant determinant (if I might call it that) of latrine use by women was the degree of privacy afforded; while for small children the complete reverse was true. Smell played no role whatsoever. We explored this conundrum with some of the communities in which we worked and it became clear that small children needed to be seen to feel secure. If the superstructure screened them completely, they simply wouldn’t use the latrine. This led to the obvious conclusion that the ‘optimum’ latrine would be one inside the house. Most of us take this for granted – because of the convenience – but even for the less well off, rural communities, if one wants to have a health impact, the latrine really needs to be part of the house.
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An extract from a letter home at the time, which was lifted from the diary:
“Over the past couple of weeks I have seen real Christianity at work. And I mean real, real Christianity. In the major centre where I have been working, there is a Catholic Church (naturally of the Immaculate Conception) with a priest running it called Father Bert. Filipino. Diminutive. Never wears a dog collar and is usually seen in rimless glasses, vest, long and baggy shorts, plastic flip-flops and with crew cut. Wears a cross which is mostly made of beads and it seems that everyone likes to arrive to see him at a few minutes before lunch. Without informing him beforehand, of course. You are always invited to take lunch with him. Rice just keeps appearing until all hunger is satisfied - and I have rarely seen two fish and five loaves go quite so far.
“When 300 to 400 people were displaced by the fighting and arrived in Pikit (where the church is), he immediately opened the gymnasium for them. When first I went in there, it was a real domestic scene. Hanging from each of the netball rings was a child's hammock, each occupied, and swinging in the way that parents - both men and women - lull their babies to sleep or keep them cool. At least they were out of the rain, and had Father Bert there to ensure that they didn't go without food.
“We store a lot of our materials with Father Bert because his staff is ultra-reliable. And he doesn't close shop - you come when you need to and go when you need to. And he is our security advisor. When you are in the least bit troubled about whether you should go to one or other place, consult Fr Bert. He seems to have a bush telegraph operating which is hyper-efficient and very accurate.
“He has a sense of humour. When I arrived last Sunday to find a church service in progress and him not taking it, he muttered something about his co-pilot being at the controls. When we were discussing going to Paidu Palangi that is presently mostly underwater but still with many people living on tables and platforms, he indicated that it might be quite useful to be able to walk on the water to get there. . .
“Father Bert cares little for the way the Government is waging the war because there are many injuries and hundreds of thousands displaced unnecessarily. And he speaks of the communities with which he is dealing with considerable passion even though they are mostly Muslim. And he is feeding tens of thousands of people who cannot be reached by government, without any fuss. And he is also leading a medical mission that has been operating recently in the flooded areas where the government staff cannot go or are unwilling to do so.
“In essence, a man driven by care for the people around him. He knows a lot about them. He is known by a lot of people as well, inevitably. And, most interestingly, he appears to be authoritative about the weapons that are being used by both sides - and is quick to condemn either side for human rights violations - of which there are many. Fearless he is, and I wonder if this will be his undoing. I hope not because he seems to be such a good focus for the humanitarian work that must inevitably go with such a conflict.
“It's been an honour to know and work with him.”
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Compassion – an attribute found in different places at different times:
Some years previously, I had had the good fortune to work with UNICEF in Northern Iraq where Christians were few and Muslims (mostly of the Sunni persuasion) were many. UNICEF staff numbers were quite limited but we were able to guide the NGOs in the technical details of water supply designs and made a lot of good friends as a result. The compassion that the Muslim NGOs showed for the Kurdish population (of Sunni or Shia branches and including a few Christians) which had suffered grievously under Saddam Hussein was no different than that shown by Fr Bert for his multi-faith flocks for whom he cared. I kept reminding myself that these ‘faiths’ seemed to share the same God.
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Back to the diary for a few more observations:
The days just seem to run the one into another. Up at about 4:30 - that's when the dogs start their day next door - and leave for the field by about 7:30. Back again by 6pm and then discussions in the office to ensure that we know exactly what is going on where and what is the next thing to do tomorrow; out for food and then back to bed. Luckily, we have had two evenings when the Accion contra el Hambre (AICF) have invited us to their home, so we have had some respite from the continuous yapping.
‘Engineer’ remarked that he had been disturbed by dogs in the night. Knowing by now that local people appeared deaf to dogs, he explained that he had had to get a torch to see what was going on and found a python squeezing a chicken. And I thought I had nightmares - but he was deadly serious. He and his neighbour managed to kill the python but only after the chicken was squeezed to death. He was quite upset – it appears that the chicken was his prize fighting cock.
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The final farewell:
When I was due to return home and undergo a de-briefing in Oxford, I spent one night in Manila before boarding the plane. The Chief had arranged a surprise party to say thank you and, as part of the process, I was handed a huge parcel, carefully wrapped in brown paper which was only just small enough to qualify as airline carry on baggage. I groaned inwardly as I could forsee a surcharge, but the Chief had done her homework on this count. I was told that when I was to be collected from her house to go to the airport, she would not release me until she had inspected my room to see if I had hidden this gift. . . . . .and she would be watching to ensure it got into the car with me. It was explained that this was the result of an income generating project funded by OXFAM. Happily, it hardly weighed anything as it was a wire frame for holding wine bottles – and I still have it in our larder at home, and I smile every time I take a bottle out.
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Nice report, Ken. Thanks.
ReplyDeleteHi Ken,
ReplyDeleteI was extremely touched by your article on Mindanao.
My father was a medical doctor and he was captured in Mindanao during WWII (1941-1944). But they did not harm him because they let him set up medical facilities for wounded soldiers and civilians, Japanese and Filipino alike. He never talked much about it. What I remember distinctly were his words, "A good Moro is a dead Moro."
Your article made me understand more about the situation in Mindanao that still exists to this day, the differences between the groups: MILF, Abu Sayaff, Moros, etc., and how far the government in Manila feels from the situation in Mindanao.
I was also exposed to the budget of OXFAM when they rented an apartment unit from me when they were renovating their office in Quezon City.
Thank you for the brave work that you do.
Maria Diaz