Philippines Outreach Centre Ministries

Please take some time to read the diary and look at the pictures that I compiled during my time at the Philippines Outreach Centre. The ministries have been going for more than 25 years, run by Chrissie Hailes Perillo. Now it runs services in jails across Luzon and looks after more than 60 children at homes in Subic.

If you'd like to find out more about the charity, please check its website: http://www.philippineoutreachcentre.com/

Tim Forrest
April 2010.

Friday 9th April

I cried today. We met one last time as a group and started talking about the children. Chrissie came along too and gave a short speech about how important our visit was to kids like them. Then Tony added to it by saying that he felt emotional every time he was with them. That you only had to turn around and there was somebody else stretching out their arms. And I realised that I knew some of these people by name. Beya, Annabelle, Jojo. And I knew what they were like. Their arms hugging onto me. Their laughter and the way they screwed up their noses at what they didn’t like. And I knew that I wanted to make them smile. And I didn’t want to go home.

So I looked out of the window, over the trees at the shipyard in the distance and I thought about the children. And I cried for them. Because I felt helpless. And if I hadn’t been in a room full of people, I would have cried some more. Big salty tears. I would have bawled and shuddered and wept. And I wish I had done.

So now I’m rereading the notes I made at the start of my trip and I’m pleased I was wrong. Because I’ve been shown some humanity and some people who matter.

They’ve been writing me cards. And Dianalyn has made me a line drawing with my name in bubble writing in the middle. Some of them gave me gifts. Hannah Joi gave me her school pass – all scuffed and chewed and ready for throwing away. As I sat in my room, tiny brown arms reached through the railings asking for a memento, “Please Kuya Tiiim, a remembrance for me. Kuya Tiiim, Kuya Tiiim. Meeee.”

I gave away my cap and my torch. And I put more clothes into a bag that we were leaving behind for the centre. Randy came up to the house and thanked me for the Manchester United shirt. John reckons he’s also asked for a City top. I told Randy to burn it if he ever receives one. I made some cards for the children who’d written me one but finding the right words wasn’t easy.

We did what you do on a final day. We called everyone together for a set of group photos and the lad who was taking them was swamped with our cameras. We gave out the wash bags and handed out sweets. We kissed and we cuddled and we made all the same jokes one more time. Time dragged along but rushed by all at the same time.

The coach left at 5pm. Most of the girls came out to wave us off. The younger ones wore red eyes and begged one more time for us to stay. I leaned out of the window as we left to wave them goodbye and watched the house disappear as we went down the hill.

So now I’m sitting in the same state of mildly hazy alertness in which I started writing. I’m back to normal life, with women in neck-ties offering me drinks periodically and dozens of movies to choose from on the television infront of me. I’ve text my friends and taken their drinks orders. And I’ve bought the rum that wouldn’t have been allowed at the girls’ house.

It’s been quite a trip.

Thursday 8th April

The children know we’re going and they don’t want us to leave. Lots of them keep asking why we’re going and pulling long faces. Hannah Joi keeps calling me daddy. For the first time today, she stopped jumping around and put her head in her head in her hands. Some of the children have started giving away their teddy bears. They want us to have them. Tomorrow’s going to be difficult.

I spent much of the day getting rather frustrated by things taking too long. Becky, Saskia and I went to Subic market to search for souvenirs but could only find tat or rather plain items. Becky was trying to find an iPhone cover for her brother but the mobile stalls only seemed to cater for rather dated looking Nokias. We ended up going to Jollybee again and eating burgers. Then after getting back to the house for lunch (which I ate very little of due to my earlier err… lunch) I spent three hours trying to sort out the washing bags that we’re planning to give the children. Some bright spark had the idea that we should personalise each one with initials. While it seemed like a good idea, it meant that we had to start checking that we’d properly labelled each bag. By the time I went out to play with the children, I’d missed most of the sun and I only managed about half an hour with them before they had to go in to eat their dinner.

There was time for one last game of basketball. The boys only had to win this evening to be crowned local champions. They’d heavily beaten the team they were up against last night, so there was an air of inevitability going into the game. Even Chrissie turned out to watch – a rare occurrence – but given that her son was one of the players, perhaps an expected one. It was supposed to start at 5 but Filipino timekeeping meant we didn’t get going until 6.30. The boys were in for a shock. The opposition came out intent on making a game of it. But Ablaze were too strong and ran out comfortable winners in the end. For once the boys celebrated. Several of them celebrated the final hooter by taking off their shirts and spinning them around their heads. It seemed a fitting way to leave the team, even if there wasn’t any kind of ceremony to mark their win. We all just got back on the bus and went home.

This evening John called everyone up to the hill behind the girls’ house. He’d bought a pile of paper lanterns, which he planned to set off into the night sky. The children waited on a mound of earth while the men tried to light the lanterns. It took a while. The wind was gentle but it was gusty enough to keep blowing out the flames. Added to that was the uselessness of the matches and the unwillingness of the touch paper to set on fire. Lito emerged from the gloom with a huge lighter, which helped a little. But then Randy kept his finger on the button for so long that the plastic melted and the front fell off. Gradually we did manage to get the lanterns in the air but they weren’t keen on staying up there. One even landed in a tree just behind the hill and for a moment we were worried it might set fire. It wasn’t quite the magical experience that John had in mind.

Our quiz seemed to go down well. Mandy and Ian won, which wasn’t surprising given that they’ve probably spent the most time with the three of us over the past few weeks. For once, I’m not the last to bed. I’ve left mum making cards for the children in the dining room. She’s making one for every single girl. I imagine she’ll be up for quite some time.

Just Children

They’re just children
Growing up to be adults in a house full of kids.
And I’m just a visitor who plays games.
But they’re affecting me.

Beya’s big eyes;
Genalyn’s giggle;
Hannah Joi’s joy.
In a moment, I’ll walk next door and they’ll see me.
Kuya Tiiim, Kuya Tiiim,
And they’ll throw their arms around me,
And press their faces against my legs as they hold on tight.
Effhia and Patricia will stand slightly further back,
Watching.

What they’ve seen,
What they’ve all seen.
Misery, misuse.
Pain.
Not forgotten
But this is a happy home.

And these are just children
Growing up to be adults in a house full of kids.

Appear, Disappear
It’s a game of handclaps with Daniel Zabel
While Angel skips and Hannah Eliza cares for a kitten
By the neck.
And laugher’s just swept us all up
And left us in a bundle of giggles next to the playhouse.
I don’t want their smiles to disappear.

Wednesday 7th April

The children’s big day out. There were so many of us that there wasn’t enough space in the vehicles to take everyone to the Ocean Adventure theme park on the far side of the airfield in Subic Bay. Some of the older boys were told they’d have to commute half-way there before being picked up by some of the coaches who’d already dropped off a load of us. It seemed like hundreds of us waiting in the car park. All the girls had colourful clothes on and many wore small rucksacks carrying their swimwear. The younger boys who’d travelled on the coaches had already ditched their bags and were running after a deflated volleyball and a smaller plastic ball that we’d bought in the shopping mall yesterday.

Mum and I had been assigned a group of 6 boys in their early teens to look after. They duly introduced themselves to us and for the rest of the morning mum kept trying to keep count. The managers at the park had been particularly good to us. For a nominal fee, they’d granted us access to all the main shows, provided lunch and set aside a stretch of beach for us to play on during the afternoon.

We began with the organised entertainment. After a mishap in the aquarium in which several children witnessed a small fish being eaten by a larger one, we found ourselves at the Sea Lion show. There were two of them and one couldn’t really be bothered to show off. At one point the animal’s handlers asked for volunteers from the crowd. Dozens of hands went up around me but Randy’s was the most persuasive and he made his way through the crowded auditorium to a huge cheer. Once at the front, he was asked to take part in a competition against the Sea Lion by copying its moves. To the handler’s surprise, Randy was better.

First the Sea Lion balanced on one flipper and raised the rest of its body off the ground. Randy did the same. Then the Sea Lion was encouraged to roll across the floor. Not that it wanted to. It took the handler several attempts and swooshy hand movements to encourage the beast to bother. Randy needed less encouragement. He took off his sunglasses and got straight down on the wet floor. Finally, the Sea Lion waddled across the stage, building up enough speed so that it could slide from the middle to the end. The park’s staff sprayed extra water onto the stage. Randy took a run-up and dived to another huge roar. They ended up giving him the rosette that was meant for the Sea Lion. You could tell because they asked for it back as he walked off.

The morning continued with similar displays that included high-platform diving, dolphins and a strange collection of animals that were supposed to be connected to the rain forests but actually included a dog, a cat and a bat that flew away half-way through the performance. The children were incredibly well behaved and seemed to enjoy all the shows despite the stifling heat.


After lunch, most of the younger ones jumped straight in the sea. We’d bought a range of inflatables, balls and other seaside equipment with us, expecting them to be used in games. Although some of the balls were thrown about a bit, most of them seemed to disappear up the children’s t-shirts. They were being used as buoyancy aids as many of them couldn’t swim. Even some of the early teens were frightened to let go of their floats. Many of the adults spent the afternoon teaching them the basics.

The older teens hardly went in the water at all. They hung around in the shade desperately trying to avoid the sun. It seems where we spent the early part of the holiday working up a tan to impress our friends, the Filipinos actively try to make their skin as light as possible. Some even use skin-whitening products. Just before they left, a couple of them did a spot of paddling. On the way home, Becky suggested that some of them might not be able to swim either.

So, another day has come to an end. We’re all starting to talk about leaving and no one wants to go. Brian, John and Alan were working late this evening, trying to finish off as much of the kitchen as possible. They’re still finding problems. Tonight they were trying to fix a hinge to a cupboard door, only to find that it was heavily rotting. Later, Saskia, Becky and I went down to the guesthouse that’s being used by Brian, Ruth, Marian and Tony. We sat with them for an hour-or-so, talking through how much we’d enjoyed the day and the trip in general. Later, the three of us composed a quiz about what we’ve got up to. It’s everything from ‘What was the memory verse that we were asked to learn at the Shine service?’ (Hebrews 4 verse 12) to ‘What is the motto being used by the local 7-11s ahead of the election? (7-Election: Every Gulp Counts – It’s the title of a straw poll in which special drinking cups have been produced with the pictures of candidates on the side. The shops are counting up how many of each are bought and are displaying the politicians’ popularity based on sales). We’re not leaving until Friday, but tomorrow’s our last full day in Subic. There’s still a lot to do.

Tuesday 6th April

Today we went back to Gerry’s jail. It was our second prison visit of the day and – like last week, we spaced out the two of them with a trip to a big shopping mall in San Fernando. As we entered the first jail this morning, Lynne and my mum turned to me and asked whether I would be doing my testimony again. I said that I hadn’t brought my notes but thought that I could probably remember most of it anyway. I thought Lynne had been joking when she said I’d be delivering it more than once but it actually felt just as easy without prompts as it did with them. As I sat back down, the pair of them asked me how I’d change it if I was to deliver it a third time infront of Gerry. I said I’d think about it.

As the afternoon went on, I kept getting mixed messages. First they told me Tony would be giving his testimony, so I need not bother. Then they thought that the service might be split into two and that I’d need to speak at one of them. Then we heard that Gerry was in hospital with high blood pressure and the talk turned to whether we could afford to pay for his treatment.

As the coach pulled into Pampanga County Jail it still wasn’t clear what was going on. Eventually we found out there would only be one service. But Tony didn’t fancy giving his testimony, so mine was back on. I asked whether someone could find out about Gerry’s condition and it turned out that he wasn’t being kept in hospital at all. Although he had been in for an ECG scan, he was back at the prison and was planning to lead the worship.

We walked out and the service began. This really was a prison like no other. The ministries at the other jails are enthusiastic affairs but this seems to involve most of the inmates. This afternoon, hundreds of them joined in a chant-off around the four sides of the square. Gerry numbered the different groups of inmates and as he shouted, “Uno,” a pocket of prisoners would shout back, “Jesus saves”. Then he’d say “Quarto” and another group would chant back, “God is love.”

I was called to the stage off the back of the worship session. I’d changed the ending of the testimony a little so that it didn’t seem as though the only thing I’d memory I’d take from Pampanga County Jail revolved around Gerry, but the sentiment remained the same. He cried. Once again, the service felt more like a religious festival than a gathering of inmates. And it isn’t just because there are dogs and children wondering around. Towards the end, around thirty came forward for prayer at Pastor Jimmy’s invitation. Before we left, they called our group up on stage for a group photograph. Brian, John and Alan handed their cameras out to the inmates to catch the moment. All the equipment came back.




After a long trip home, everyone’s pretty tired this evening. Mum’s one to bed with a migraine and even Becky and Saskia have turned in early. We had a late dinner before bed. As we were finishing the first course, the chef proudly walked in carrying a dish for desert. She stood back and smile, explaining that she’d made a local dish for us. The pudding looked like a magnolia coloured mousse with cheese on the top. And there was loads of the stuff, enough for at least three big portions each. Ian volunteered to pass it out and the chef handed him a knife. It turned out the substance was more like a jelly and it had sweetcorn in the middle. I managed two mouthfuls. It tasted sweet but vary savoury. And the cheese made it even stranger. Everyone else was very polite and finished their serving. John was in hysterics and even Val was pulling faces. Tony and Marian who never have a problem with any food loved it and Tony even had a second helping. The food’s been lovely so far. I hope the chef doesn’t mind that we’ve left so much of her masterpiece.

My Testimony

Good morning. I want to talk about the faith I’ve seen since I arrived in the Philippines. My group travelled to Subic almost two weeks ago, to help at the Philippines Outreach Centre’s Children’s home. We’ve painted, we’ve played with the young people and we’re still working on two kitchens that need repairing. We’ve even been guests of honour at a school graduation where we’ve handed out awards.

But it isn’t our efforts that I want to talk about. Since we’ve arrived, we’ve met so many people who’ve challenged us and encouraged us. And all of those people are making a difference because they’ve chosen to believe in Jesus Christ.

First there are the leaders of the P-O-C. Chrissie, Lito, Pastor Jimmy and others. They’ve given support and hope and love. And the children are beautiful and educated and raised knowing the word of God. Both the boys’ and the girls’ homes are happy places to be.

Then there are the people like you who we’ve met on numerous trips to jail. I know many of you have spent years locked up, often because the justice system is too busy. But despite your lack of freedom, we’ve shared with you in praising God for helping you where you are. The Spirit is with you.

One man in particular has stood out. When I arrived at his jail, I thought he was the governor. He seemed happy and confident and full of grace. He led the service we attended at his jail. Then, when he started singing, I thought he was a worship leader brought in from outside. So many inmates were joining in his worship songs, the service felt like a carnival.

But Gerry is a prisoner. He sleeps in a small room with 40 other men. And he’s been there for 15 years. His faith doesn’t just keep him going – it’s having an effect on the whole prison. And even though he’s locked up, his belief in Jesus Christ extends beyond the jail’s walls.

Today I give thanks for Gerry and for the leaders of the P-O-C and for the children in their care. And for everyone at this jail. When I travel home to the UK at the end of the week, I plan to take all your stories with me. Thank you.

Monday 5th April

This morning we returned to the same women’s jail that we visited last week. Once again, emotion was close to the surface, especially among the inmates who gave their testimonies. A lady called Leona gave me a booklet called Leona gave me a booklet called ‘Guidelines for Peace of Mind’ by Harold J. Sala. She also wrote a prayer request in her notepad, which she tore out and gave to me. It read,

“PRAYER REQUEST
FOR BETH EUGENID FOR HER EARLY
RELEASE ON ANYTIME. PRAY TO GRANT HER CASE WILL BE DISMISS.
ALSO PRAY FOR ME
TO GET OUT HERE ON MAY SO THAT I CAN BE WITH MY KIDS IN U.S.
LEONA
ZIOBRONSKI
THANKS FOR COMING ESPECIALLY FOR SHARING THE WORD OF GOD.”

She passed me the note shortly after I’d finished giving the testimony I’d prepared. It seemed to be well received and it made mum cry.

On the way out we passed one of the jail’s wardens with an AK47 across his lap and a prisoner massaging his hands. The officer looked up and casually nodded at me as I walked by. He looked like he was enjoying it.

Mum was crying for a different reason at lunchtime. She’s stubbed her little toe so hard it appears to have broken. While she managed to hobble round the jail, by lunchtime the pain and probably the heat of the day had caught up with her. She packed herself off to bed, with several of the women following her to pray for her. This evening she was back up and limping, saying that she felt much better.

This afternoon, I went to Subic market with Becky, Saskia, Ian and Mandy. We took two of the 16 year olds from the girls’ home, Alexia and Rachelle, with us. We started with trip to Jollybee, where the hamburgers are served by well turned out, eager looking assistants. At least they should be. A sign in the window was offering work to 18-22 year olds with a college education who were “good looking”.

Once in the market, we realised that there were beach balls, flumes, buckets and spades and other seaside items on sale. Ian recalled a conversation the group had been having over lunch about buying similar equipment ahead of a trip Wednesday when the whole children’s home is going to a resort. We agreed that it would be cheaper to buy the items in Subic, rather than at an expensive shopping mall as was planned tomorrow. But we didn’t have the list. The sun was already beginning to dip behind the mountains, so to save time, Rachelle and I took a sidecar back to the house. There’s a steep hill just before the end and the motorbike coughed and spluttered it’s way up. I had to keep my head tucked into my chest to stop it banging against the roof. On the way back, the small sidecar became even more crowded as the driver took on two boys. At least one of them had the sense to sit on the motorbike. The other one crammed in with us. Ian offered to take the return sidecar ride once we’d bought the equipment. I was happy to let him go.

The Ablaze basketball team was back in action this evening. It turns out last Monday’s match was the second in a best of three. With both sides having one each, tonight was the decider. Again the match was tight, with overtime looking likely as the game entered it’s final 10 seconds with the teams tied at 28-all. Then with 3 seconds to spare, Benji, the boys’ team’s best player and captain got free on the right. It was a race between him and the clock, as he dribbled from the halfway line towards the basket. The announcer called in the seconds. He’d reached 1 as Benji leapt up. The ball left the fingers of his right hand and travelled in slow-motion towards the hoop. We waited. Then we cheered. He’d won it with 0.5 seconds remaining on the clock. A hundred children screamed their delight.

Benji the hero was particularly well mannered in victory. Mandy and I went over to high-five him and he didn’t know what to do. We bowed at him instead and he looked rather embarrassed. His mother works at the children’s home and his father’s the caretaker at the church, so he wasn’t travelling back with the other children. As the bus bubbled past him, the kids shouted encouragement out of the windows. He smiled and waved, then climbed onto the handlebars of his father’s bike to be cycled home.

Easter Sunday 4th April

So many mornings on this trip have past in a blur, usually because I’m tired having stayed up talking to Becky and Saskia until around midnight. This morning was notable for extreme sleepiness and depth of church services. I was woken at 5am to go to the first one. It was supposed to be held at dawn (which made Becky laugh as she related it to a Michael McIntyre joke about meeting at dusk) but in true Filipino style, we were at the church about half-an-hour before everyone else. And by the time the singing started, most of the cocks had given up crowing. 90 minutes into the service our group was ushered out so that we could go to another church up the road (or down the hill as the locals describe it) in Roosevelt.

The second service was in a small community apparently in the middle of nowhere. Rows of wooden pews had been placed in a concrete hut and the words for the songs had been written on a make-shift flip chart, which one of the congregation flipped over at the appropriate moment. The singing went on and on, although the words for the songs had to be quite brief in order to fit on the sheets. It meant most verses were repeated about half-a-dozen times. Mum gave another sermon, which was her strongest yet. She’s starting to learn how to play the congregation. The Filipinos like their ‘praise God’s and ‘A-men’s. I’d written a testimony which I wasn’t asked to deliver. I was quite pleased in the end. By the time the Sunday school, meet the visitors (pronounced vee-say-tors), extended worship session, Bible teaching bit, prayers, readings, youth songs and offerings had been factored in we already over two hours. It meant we’d managed around four hours of service before lunch.

I enjoyed a siesta, which is fast becoming a habit.

This afternoon we organised an egg hunt for the children up at the Philippines Outreach Centre’s school. The hunt itself took longer to set up than it did for the kids to finish it and pretty soon they were running around playing basketball, tag and other games in the school grounds. Chrissie took the opportunity to show us round the derelict hospital that overshadows the classrooms. She wants to buy the building to extend both the school and the children’s home. At the moment she only has a couple of thousand pounds but she’ll need around half-a-million if the work is to get completed.

And there’s a lot of work to do. The building is a wreck. The roof has disappeared and rooms are gradually being taken over by plants, graffiti and rubbish. There’s even a twenty-foot tree that’s growing between the first floor and the area that used to be used for surgery. I moved from room to room, taking pictures of the children in the remains. On the top floor there was a spectacular view across the whole of Subic Bay.

Later, I joined a game of volleyball with some of the men from the mission. Pastor Dondi was on the opposing team. He’s a thickset man with a manner that is used to being listened to. Although I could hardly understand any of the communication between the sides, it was obvious that he’s both very competitive and a little biased towards his own team. Some of his line calls were hilarious and his grumpy body language was equally funny when he didn’t get his way. On either side of the playing area, the tarmac fell away down a steep hill. It meant we had to keep a close eye on the ball to stop it rolling away. On shot left me scuttling so quickly on the turn that I failed to notice a hen in my path. A healthy – if accidental kick later – she was squarking and flapping all over the place, trying desperately to get out of the way while making sure that her little chicks were safe.

This evening, Tony gave a testimony to the whole of the group. He’s had difficulties with a previous marriage and with the death of his young son. He wanted to tell us how God had helped him forgive those who needed forgiving and come to terms with the loss of his boy. At times this trip has reminded me of the Christian summer festivals that I used to go to in my teens. There’s openness and an excitement in the group combined with some pretty intense Christianity. It’s hard to avoid assessing your own situation and thinking about whether you’re getting it right.

By the end of Tony’s story, Saskia had to hide her face behind Becky to stop herself crying. Then Marian helped Tony recount how they met and married - a relationship that began on a walking holiday. The group gathered round Marian to lay hands on her and pray for the sermon she’s giving tomorrow. It’ll be her first. Ian and I sat back from the group and watched. At the moment, that’s where I feel is the right place to be.

Saturday 3rd April

An hour before it went dark, Ian and I took ten of the older boys up to the school grounds to play touch rugby. We had been planning to watch them take part in another basketball match, but the dates got confused and it turns out their next fixture isn’t until next week.

The group hadn’t played rugby before and I spent a while before we started trying to show them how to throw the ball. They gradually got the idea, although most of them span it all wrong and got their arms caught up in their chests. We’d cut some ribbons up into strips to use as tags and soon the group was split into two teams and starting to play. The game was very stop-start. To start with, they couldn’t get the idea that you couldn’t pass forwards. Some of them insisted on hanging around upfield and their mates further back would eventually give-in to their calls and chuck them the ball. Then they started to hide their tags. One lad tied his to his pants so it couldn’t be pulled out. Eventually though, they got the hang of it and by the time the fading light ended the game, they’d all had a good workout.

On the way back to the flat, Randy lagged behind. I watched him jump high into a tree, then come running down the hill towards us carrying an object just a bit bigger than the rugby ball. The boys crowded round the spiky green thing, which they told us was a fruit. Randy tore it open to reveal a fleshy white pulp with small black seeds. He asked us to try some but we made the boys go first to prove that it wasn’t a trick. They laughed at us for being so frightened. And they were right. The fruit was lovely. Although it looked a little alien and squidgy, it tasted like a mixture of peaches and passion fruit. Randy had given us quite a large chunk, so I took some back for the rest of the group to try. Ten hungry looking touch rugby novices devoured the remainder of the fruit in seconds.

Good Friday 2nd April

By around 3pm this afternoon, my blog was in danger of reading, “AM – unravelled some string. PM – went into Subic which was shut. Came home.” Then things picked up a bit.

A group of us went into the town to see what was going on for Good Friday. Earlier in the week, we’d passed a blindfolded man who was flagellating himself. Some of the managers at the home told us that there would be others doing similar things today and I was keen to see how the Filipinos marked the day. During the morning various people called by the house complaining about how they were being held up in all the traffic around Subic. It seemed that lots was going on in the local market, but by the time we got down there it had all come to a halt. We comforted our wasted journey with a stop off at Chowking for a desert called Halo Halo and a journey back in a jeepney.
On the way back Rachel passed us in her car. She pulled over and asked whether we wanted to join her on a tour of some of the local communities. We bundled into an already packed vehicle with Ian having to make do with a seat on the floor.

One of our stops was in a shanty village just next to the fish market. Rachel’s husband Ric is the project’s youth pastor and they used to hold bible lessons for some of the fishermen’s children in an alleyway between some of the houses. Now the children are asked to go to a monthly event called ‘Shine’, which involves kids from a wider area and takes place in a church. Today they went into the village to make sure the kids knew that tomorrow’s event was on, despite the Easter break.

The houses weren’t as run-down as I’d expected. There was the familiar mend-and-make-do feel to the place, but most of the houses were built out of well-laid concrete slabs. We walked right through the village, past a group of men crouching round a card game and – further in – another huddle of people playing bingo with tatty coloured cards and small stones to cover up the numbers. Behind the houses was a small patch of sand where around 50 children were running around. When they saw our group, they excitedly gathered round, asking questions over the top of each other and pulling faces at our cameras. One tiny girl whose face was already covered in mud found it all too much and burst into tears. Her ever-so-slightly bigger sister tried to carry her off to clean her in the sea but only succeeded in making things worse by carrying her around the neck.

Ric waited for the children to calm down a little before telling them about tomorrow’s event. I asked Rachel how educated these children were likely to be. She told me I’d probably be surprised. Those that she knew not only went to school but also had excellent memories. She said they’d give them 20 memory verses to learn and within a short amount of time they’d be able to repeat them all word for word.

After our trip, we returned to the house to discover that dinner was being served a bit later than usual. Although I’d already been caught out by Subic’s lack of Easter activity, I’d heard that there was a parade planned, so I suggested that we head back down the hill to see what was going on. After a fashion, they all agreed and this time, I wasn’t disappointed.

Hundreds of people had come out to take part in the walk, which was punctuated by luminous floats of Jesus, Mary and the Saints. Most were carrying candles cupped in small cardboard cases to catch the drips. You could see that many had been made using old cigarette boxes, as ‘Marlboro’ and ‘Camel’ were lit up in the candlelight. I walked from one end of the parade to the other with Saskia and Becky. It took us right into the centre of the town.

By the time we got there, both girls had become fed up of the comments and stares from the people we passed. Both decided that they wanted to get back to the house as quickly as they could. On the way back, they raced ahead of the rest of the group, prompting Becky’s grandmother Valarie to worry that they were too far in front without male assistance. John and I caught up with them but they were still determined to head straight back. Saskia walked in silence all the way back.

If it’s home that she’s missing, I’m not too far behind. It was difficult getting out of bed this morning and even though there’s work to do and the children’s enthusiasm and attention never waivers. But this morning, I needed a time out. I sat at the breakfast table untangling a big pile of string thinking how selfish I was being but knowing that I didn’t have the energy to do anything else. I’ve also started checking the internet on my mobile, to see what’s going on back in my normal world. Just a week ago, it was quite nice being out of the loop. Now another week without information seems a bit scary.

But I need to remember that I’m not here for long. Tomorrow I need to spend a bit more time concentrating on the project I’ve travelled a third of the way around the world to help.

Thursday 1st April

Sunburnt. All across my back and onto my shoulders. To make it worse, the children keep jumping onto the affected area. And I don’t want to show them that I’m in pain, so I’ve been letting them get on with it. One of them gave me a massage earlier. It was excruciating.

We spent the day around the house, beginning by painting the outside wall and later playing with the children. Randy turned up wearing the Manchester United shirt again and then started painting in it, so I made him take it off. It might not be mine for much longer but it’s still an expensive shirt. And anyway, the paint was pink.

After lunch, many of us had a siesta. It’s so easy to fall asleep in this heat. Only the grasshoppers seem to manage a full day. I kept waking up thinking that I’d slept through most of the afternoon, then falling back to sleep anyway because I was so tired. When I did eventually get up it turned out I’d been out for about the same length of time as everyone else. The girls upstairs were away for even longer then us, so Ian and I had time to set up some group games on a bare piece of ground just up the hill. We eventually managed to get five of them up there and the games began. Ian made up the numbers. I made him hop rather than run so that the girls could keep up with him.

Later we played stuck in the mud and cricket. The girls are much easier to control than the boys although they get just as mucky. We told them to put on their sandals before they left the house but they just kicked them off before they started running around. One of them cut herself on a rock but she was so keen to play, she refused to go back inside to have it dressed. The weather was stifling but they laughed at us for drinking water so often.

Over dinner Lynne suggested I give a testimony during Sunday’s service. It’s getting harder to say no, so I’ve agreed. I’m going to talk about the different people we’ve met since we arrive in the Philippines. I’ll probably finish by talking about Pastor Gerry.

The pace of things seems to have slowed over the past few days. It’s probably just a case of getting more familiar with the pattern of life here in Subic. The children are now much more familiar with us. I spent the evening upstairs with the girls, where they danced to a worship CD. It felt lovely jumping around and playing with them. It feels like a happy house.