The plane started to descend into the city whose name I couldn’t even remember at that point. The hour and a half flight from Manila, Philippines had been fairly uneventful. But with the intensity of our Australia ministry still fresh in my mind, I felt a bit apprehensive about my ability to handle what I could only assume was coming next. I took a little peek out of the plane window, and became even more nervous. All I could see was water beside our plane. I mean, there were some trees across the water, but right next to us, there was only that liquid substance that makes earth unique from all the rest of creation. My heartrate increased some. And then BAM, we landed. Oh my, there had been a runway there the whole time. It just uniquely jutted out unto the water to trick passengers into believing that certain death was coming.
We walked off the plane into the beautiful city that I now know is called Dumaguete. And as we walked to get our bags, the scene that surrounded us took my breath away. We had landed in paradise. The palm trees grew there without reserve and the ocean surrounding the island was a deep blue that transformed to aqua blues and even light blues sometimes. The weather was warm but not too hot and it was just humid enough to keep one’s skin from drying out, but not humid enough to drown you in the air. And the feel of this place…!! while even two months before I would have been hesitant to speak about spiritual environments, I quickly discerned that there was a spirit of joy here. How did I discern this? Because I was grinning like an idiot and my apprehension was quickly turning to anticipation even as we walked.
There is a reason that Dumaguete is called the city of gentle people. The people we meet are beautiful on the outside and the inside. They smile and greet us in English and are quick to answer our questions when we are lost or need assistance. We are often served so kindly and given more than we have even asked for. If any of us attempted to help by doing dishes or cleaning, we would quickly find ourselves sitting on the sidelines out of a job because of how servant-minded these people are.
Without stop lights or signs, we find that we are thankful to be driven around the city. The traffic is a harmonious cacophony of cars, buses, trucks, and little vehicles called trikes. We often ride in these trikes to get where we need to go in the city and they are an inexpensive way to see more of this beautiful place.
The vehicles move in and out of the lines of the roads with ease and a daring spirit that is lacking in the U.S. We often like to count how many times a day we have avoided “death” as we weave in and out of traffic. One of the native Filipinos here, who also happens to be named Annie Rose, informed us that while there are traffic rules in Dumaguete the people rarely follow them. Yet through their combination of horn beeps and eye contact, we have yet to see an automobile accident here.
There are fruits that grow here that I’ve never even heard of and every kind of banana you could ask for. There are small ones that are extra sweet, green ones that taste like your every day banana, and every size in between. I’ve eaten a bar-b-qued banana that tasted slightly caramelized and delicious. I’ve eaten boiled bananas that were also quite tasty. And wherever we go, bananas are the dessert of choice.
The sights, sounds, tastes and smells of this place are so different from what we are used to and they entice us to worship our God who is near. But more about that soon….
