A postscript to faces of living hope
Sprawled in an
orange and pink colored mat are a couple of diapers bundled with colorful,
bulging eco bags. Excited hands were
untying gray, plastic bows, and female chatter was in the air.
“Wow! There’s also
a baby dress set in our pack, I got a blue one...do you like this color for
your baby boy?” “Sure, thanks! Here, I’ll
exchange with you this pink one- suits
your baby girl better.”
It was while
observing these moments, amidst my frantic implementation of World Vision’s Women
and Young Children Space (WAYCS) at the relief response in North Cebu, that I
was reminded it was in fact the festive month of December. Although the scene wasn’t kris-kringle,
it appeared that Christmas wasn’t suspended afterall. Not even in those parts, bulldozed just weeks
earlier by typhoon Haiyan. Surprisingly
at that moment, seven mothers who were victims of an historic natural calamity would
remind me not only of festivities to look forward to when I get home for the holidays
after my deployment. Marie, Myrna, Rossan,Shirley, Cris, Fe, and
Marilou- these women wore a
burst of a refreshing aura in the aftermath of the Haiyan disaster- the human
face of living hope.
Inside that WAYCS tent
in the village of Bagay of Daanbantayan town, breastfeeding babies succumbing
to sleep were oblivious of their mothers’ excited remarks and frequent
giggles. If not for a breastfeeding poster
behind one of the moms who was nursing her baby, the scene wouldn’t immediately
appear to be an emergency tent put up to help mothers and their babies
recuperate from the terrors of the calamity that had striken. At that moment, there was hardly a trace that
these women and their young ones were in a life-threatening situation just
weeks earlier.
“I hid under the
sink holding my baby tightly. I was so
scared watching our house stripped of the whole roof over our heads, and the
glass window smashed. We were all rain-soaked
and trembling of fear and the cold, but I held on to my child,” recalls
Rosann.
She invited us to
see the house later on, a two-story structure seemingly skinned to the bone,
with the family’s meager possessions inside piled up in mud and rubble. Rossan picks up a baby shirt covered in mud,
saying it’s good there was a replacement inside the infant kit she received
from the WAYCS. Pointing at a bed suspended
on a door, she continued, “my baby and I were lying on that bed when the
typhoon came. We had to move the bed to
seal the door from the angry wind; my husband went up to hang on to the roof,
but the wind was stronger and lifted it,” says Rosanna, pointing to the open sky
over head.
“But my baby did
not get sick even after being soaked in rain and the displacement. I believe it was my breastmilk that saved
him- my baby Edson has been purely breastfed until six months,” proudly shares
Rosann. The other mothers nod in agreement,
as if hearing the talk of the village midwife again, which emphasized on the life-saving
potency of continued breastfeeding of babies.
Amidst what they
went through, these mothers were among some 300 who would regularly troop to
the WAYCS tent put up in Rosann’s village, on invitation by health workers. They listened to the midwife or the local
nurse discuss basic practices to ensure that proper nutrition and care of their
young children is continued even in disaster situations.
“Honestly, it’s my
first time to hear that it’s alright to breastfeed another baby other than your
own. I’ve always thought it was not
good. Older people in my neighborhood
said that if you breastfeed especially a baby girl, you will become
malnourished and your milk would dry up.
Your own baby would suffer because you won’t be able to feed it
anymore.”
Marilou was happy
that she attended the WAYCS when the midwife discussed breastfeeding because
she learned that what she believed in was just a myth- now she knows the truth. “Now I
can help breastfeed the baby of my neighbor if its own mother cannot do it
herself. I have to tell my old neighbors
about it,” continues Marilou.
It still amazes me
to this day how these mothers managed to become attentive to new information,
and think of others to whom they could share what they learned, considering
their situation that time. How can
someone stripped of the comforts of normalcy, of life-long earned material
belongings, perhaps in extreme situations- even loss of loved ones- live at the
hard moment and look forward to a happy tommorow where they can’t wait to share
what they newly acquired?
I remembered these
raw images in the communities where World Vision responded in Cebu at the turn
of the new year when I was already in the midst of holiday revelry in the
comfort of home and family, when I received messages about hope for a new
beginning. It was not new in fact, but a
rehash of that seasonal message theme. Just
like what Marilou experienced from the village WAYCS, it was as if I heard the
information the first time in my life.
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| A burst of gold in the horizon never failed to light up my way back to the city after a day at the community. |
I fumbled to
recall those Greek words I last re-learned from Darrel Johnson- kronos,
the reality, tick-tack time of the moment, and kairos,
the spiritual-level time, God’s time,
and how they concretely met in the Haiyan response in the community. I saw both the kronos and kairos times
intersect because of the face of hope I saw in mothers and babies as their eyes
locked at each other while breastfeeding, giving life to each other. I could visualize the promise of a new
beginning in mothers sharing their stories of survival and plans for the future. Living hope is also materialized in village
health workers working 24/7 to serve their community even when their own
families were also victims of disaster.
Take Maribel, a
registered nurse volunteer in Tabogon town in Nort Cebu, dedicated facilitator
of World Vision’s WAYCS in two barangays.
She has five children, including a six-month old baby. Maribel is the current family breadwinner
because her husband recently underwent a major surgical operation of his liver. Her house was also damaged by the typhoon and
the whole family had to momentarily move to a sibling’s house.
When Maribel rode
back with me to Cebu City where she was scheduled to take an exam with the
Department of Health, she confided that her family
did not receive relief
goods. She apparently missed the
validation process because she was facilitating a session during the opening of
the WAYCS in Somosa village and there was no one in their house.
“It’s alright, I
don’t regret leaving my house to facilitate the opening of the WAYCS in the
barangay and discussing the importance of breastfeeding to almost a hundred mothers. What I ask for from God now is to allow me to
pass the RN Heals exam so I can continue to work for my community and support
my family,” says Maribel.
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| Sugarcane flowers adorn the hills in North Cebu, the previous typhoon path. |
