On Monday, we went to Uncle James’ office again. Today was supposed to be Dad’s last day there, but once again (for the second time in a row), it wasn’t. We spent about five hours in the waiting room only to find out that we have to go back. I did get a lot of writing done though.
I found out that we have to get up at two of the clock tomorrow morning to go to Baguio again. I am guessing that we are getting an average of six hours of sleep each night. We either get back very late at night or we wake up before the the crowing rooster gets up- or a combination of both- and I’m surprised that I still have energy each day. Maybe it’s the food I’m eating.
I wonder how the cooks at camp do it- get up early go to bed late. Maybe it’s the food they eat too.
It’s neat to watch this house being redone. Everyone works so hard, even though what they get paid is basically nothing compared to what I get from just one week at camp. Ken, [the nephew of someone we were doing stuff with], told me last Sunday that he once made 11,000 pesos ($200) in one month.
He told me that here in the Philippines 11,000 pesos is above average for one month. On the other hand though, most of the stuff here is cheaper than the stuff back home. At least almost all the food is. It
We ate breakfast with Pastor Palotes at Chow King, and then we headed on over to the church. It’s called Bible Faith Baptist Church and I think it’s four years old now. I played my piano for them and Dad preached the sermon. It was exciting to be with them that morning. Of course, it would have been nice if I could have understood everything they said, and I wouldn’t have minded if it was a little cooler, but I still enjoyed it.
One of their outreach ministries is to the deaf and mute. During the service, some of the deaf people sang a song for a special number. Afterwards, a few of the deaf had Dad sign their Bibles on the inside. In one of the families, both of the parents are deaf, but they have a son who is not. He translates the service for them through sign language. After the service, some of the church members and the Palotes family made a meal for the deaf.
They then took us to the WWII memorial in Bataan. On the way we got to see people planting rice, rice drying on the side of the road, people taking baths by pouring water over themselves, and bamboo drying on the side of the road. When we got to a certain mountain in Bataan, we drove up it and found the memorial. We went to a small museum there and learned about what happened at Bataan during WWII.
Bataan is also the location of the beginning of the “Death March”. Through everything, though, the Filipinos still supported the US, and it paid off. Never before had any people been as loyal to a Western country as the Filipinos were to the Americans during the war.
The first street we turned onto was paved but it proved to be very bumpy. In fact, in my opinion, it was almost as bad as the mountain roads.
