For the sake of this story, I’m changing my subject’s name to Matthew. The reason being that as I walked away from him, my hands were shaking in rage. Not all my conversations are roses and happy endings, but some of them are true battles and tests of strength. Matthew has been here in the Philippines for 16 years. He came over here as a missionary, but as he grew to know the culture, he grew to hate his mission. It seemed like every time he tried to give or help out, no one would appreciate it, and five more people would show up with their hands out. Finally, after a few months, he called his supporters in the States and asked them to stop supporting him because he was no longer a missionary. However, he chose to stay in the Philippines.
Over the next couple of years, Matthew developed an intense distrust, dislike, and I’ll even say hatred for the people he came here to serve. He told me how much of a rat hole this place was and how these people would never change and despite their best efforts, they’ll always be 100 years behind the rest of the world. I’ve never disagreed with someone more in my life, or even seen such intense hatred. I finally asked the question I never should have, “If you hate this place so much, why do you stay? You’re not doing anyone any good.” The smile that came on his face made me sick to my stomach.
He then began to tell me that even though this country may be decades behind and are in a constant mode of taking (his words, not mine), they still have a ton to give. I already didn’t want him to finish that statement. At this point he asked me my religion, and why I was there. When he heard my answer, he said that was too bad because I would never get to experience the true blessing of this culture, the women. The only thing that held my fist by my side was his age and the Holy Spirit. He went on to tell me way more than I ever wanted to know and I just tried to hold the tears back. This is why we’re constantly in a battle and why it’s hard to reach out to Filipinos at times.
Finally he told me about his wife to be. She’s a college student. She needs the money and financial backing, and he likes the idea of her. He said he’d be dead in a few years anyway, so it wasn’t like a lifetime plan for either of them. Maybe not for him, but she’ll never be the same. I was thankful I had somewhere to be because I couldn’t take anymore of this conversation. Matthew eventually told me he had converted to Islam because he felt he had more freedom to do what he wanted. At this point I literally laughed out loud. When he asked me why, I just said, “Freedom? In Islam? Wow, you really are believing some lies.” He just gave me a smile and said he wanted to take me to coffee sometime because he couldn’t have a discussion like this with anyone else out here. I just walked away.
I see this guy around town a lot. White people tend to stick out here. Every time I’ve seen him, I’ve felt uneasy. Now I know why. No matter how much good we do, there will always be an opposing force lurking somewhere close by. That’s the reality we have to face and choose whether or not we’ll still stand grounded in the foundation we believe in. As frustrating and even devastating as that conversation was, I chose to stand.
