Filipino Way

I had planned on writing a log every day but there are some things that interfere, a very busy schedule for one. I will have spoken about forty times from the time I arrive until the time I leave. Then, there have been several times that I could not get on the computer because of my two secretaries, Hanelyn and Alma, who have been busy typing all of my notes to give to the pastors. I have preached so much and written so much that I have told them all that I know and a lot of things I don't know. But those that know me know that I do not need to have insight, knowledge or wisdom to talk about anything and everything.

The Filipino way of thinking constantly amazes me. As we were approaching the graduation ceremonies disaster struck. The generator that supplies the camp with fresh water went out and we did not have any water. And then the electricity went out during one of the services and was out for several hours. Severe rains came and the road became nothing but mud. But I was the only one in camp that realized we were having problems. No Water? How was I to get clean, brush my teeth, use the comfort room? No electricity how was I to charge my phone, get on my computer, use my electric razor? I thought life was over as I knew it.

The next morning I awoke and remembered to conserve what little water we had for the couple hundred people on the camp grounds. Breakfast, oh my, what was I going to eat? As I was wondering if I had enough body fat to survive until the electricity came back on. One of the girls came to my door and said “Pastor, your breakfast is ready”. Eggs over easy (3), 4 pieces of toast, sausage, bacon, coffee, juice and water. A banana, mango and something I had never seen before. The Filipina woman is not confined to electricity; they cook over an open flame.

I took my towel and did my best to wipe the sweat from my body. I used enough deodorant to cover the most offending smell, put on my clothes and with dirty hair walked out to preach. As I left my room I came face to face with Bro Poqueta, a mountain preacher to the communist, a great man of God. We shook hands and hugged each other and I found that Filipino men smell good when they sweat. Then, much to my surprise, all of the ladies had wet hair. I was really upset that they had not followed the save the water order. Then, on the basketball court was the men, all covered from top to bottom with soap, as they all took a bath. You see, in order for me to get clean I need electric energy and running water. All a Filipino needs is a rain barrel and a river near by. In the whole crowed that morning all they needed to do is sniff, and it was easy to find the dirty American.