"Do you know what police station we are at?"
"Number 3, in Beverly Hills."
"Where is THAT?"
We shrugged and motioned out of the Jeepney with the flippant response, "Right there."
I made the mental note to not let this blog opportunity pass by. I mean it certainly will not be everyday of my visit to the Philippines, or any other country for that matter, that I chill for a bit at some random police station waiting for the public transportation I'm taking to receive approval to continue the route.
Our contacts last words, spoken in jest at the time, were rather prophetic, "should we send the dogs with you to lead you back home?" We all just laughed as we all piled in the KIM vehicle we were borrowing to get us across town. The vehicle was only available for an hour so we have to find our way back. No problem, I thought, I'm with a Filipino social worker and my squad mate speaks Tagalog. What I didn't know at the time was the neither the social worker nor our driver had ever been where we were going. Lucky for us, an industrious Filipino adopted our car and literally ran us across town. He'd point out turns, right or left, and then would sprint ahead to jump on the back of a tricycle that was heading the same way. When it was time to turn he'd jump off, motion and sprint ahead to the next tricycle going in the needed direction. I was amused and absoultely in awe of his stamina. P90X ain't got nothing on him!
When we finally arrived at the social service headquarters the social worker took me and my squad mate by the hand, "Watch your bags" she whispered. Looking around I didn't feel at all concerned or threatened but I heeded her warning, adjusted my purse accordingly, and smiled to myself, "I love unexpected adventures like these."
At the feeding Friday we were brought to a little boy who was 7 months old, being cared for by his 10 year old older brother, and sustained for the duration of his short life on dirty water from a bottle. The reality of his situation weighed on us all so we have been working through the system to try provide a better living situation for him. Largely watching the process from the sidelines, I was surprised today when my squad mate asked if I'd join her on the errand of filing the official papers to start his case. Wanting to widen my view of what it means to live in the Philippines, I capitalized on the opportunity. Of course, I was really just dead weight as we went from desk to desk at the headquarters attempting to find someone who could help but I didn't mind. While plodding along I learned there are 12 steps to every case you file. Steps 1 and 3 have to be reviewed by the same person. Each social worker provides their own computer, or they handwrite files, and the single room, about the size of my parents living room, held 20 to 25 desks.
Watching our social worker advocate just tickled me. Speaking a blend of English and Tagalog I gathered, and my squad mate confirmed, the social worker we were seeking assistance from was asking what next steps should be. Really, um, isn't that your job? A conversation I could totally relate to from my life experience; sigh, I guess somethings just aren't that different half way around the world. Needles to say, the papers are filed (Step #1 is complete!) and they will go pick up the boy tomorrow.
All smiles, our faithful sprinter met us as we exited. In repayment for his services he requested that we visit the shop his family kept just up the way. It was a nut shop and I gladly accepted his "Free Sample!" of roasted cashews. They were delicious! We could not linger as our time wandering from desk to desk inside had eaten up much of the morning and, according to my grumbling stomach, we needed to get back for lunch. Mr. Smiles placed us in a tricycle, rattled off our ultimate destination to the driver and we were off.
Riding a tricycle is a kick. Envision a motorcycle with a little cab built around it that miraculously holds 6 – 8 people. It is all about wind in your face and fresh exhaust up your nose!
Mr. Smiles served us well and our tricycle driver dropped us off just in time for our transfer to the aforementioned Jeepney. As the three of us piled into the already fully loaded vehicle I smiled to myself, "To think you pray about trusting God more. You are aimlessly weaving and bobbing your way across a city on pure faith that someone knows where we are going; shouldn't trusting the God of the universe be a walk in the park compared to this!?!" As the engine turned off and we sat, all 15 – 20 of us in the back of the refurbished World War Two Jeep, watching our driver get escorted inside the police station, I admit, I gave my willing trust a second thought. Thankfully, after about quarter of an hour wait and one more tricycle ride we are back safe with bellies full of good food.
The social worker asked me if I'd be joining them to go pick up the boy tomorrow?
Sure, why not, you never know what surprises await!
Speaking of surprises our team has had a few:
1) Tim and Jamie, both members of my Team Nikao, are each seeking additional funding as a result of expected funds not coming in. I encourage you to check out their blogs and consider partnering with them on the journey. They are a meaningful part of my experience and I'd like to see us all finish together.
2) Tim for the last 10 years has been sponsoring a Compassion International child and he has the opportunity to go meet this child in person next week. A requirement of World Race culture is that we always travel in pairs so Tim has giving me the honored privilege of traveling with him next week. The day trip will involve additional air travel and, after today's adventure, the possibility of a good story or two. Your prayers for traveling mercies would be appreciated.
3) It has been confirmed that we will not have the ability to blog next month. I wanted let you know in advance to avoid any concern. Prayers know no boundaries so, please, keep up the steady stream of petitions. I'll look forward to catching up with all of you from South Africia in November.
