On Monday, July 1 we visited a peasant agricultural community. The logistics and traveling were, uh, interesting. From jeepney (public transit) to bus, from motorcyle rides to a long hike at 12noon, I can say that Monday was probably one of the most difficult days of my life – physically, psychologically, and even spiritually. The hike we took at noon drained any form of energy we had. I don’t know if I’ve experienced heat like that before. We traveled the hillside by foot. The pictures show a lovely grassy area, but don’t be fooled. It was a HIKE. Not a walk. The sun was at its zenith and yours truly ran out of water by 12:01pm.

We helped till the soil, both by hand, and yes, you see the picture, by caribou. The caribou is roped by some farming tool that when it walks forward, it pulls the tool along, driven by the farmer. I was the farmer for about 5 minutes. Five minutes in which the caribou listened intently to me, more than any other driver! It returned when I yelled, “Balik!” And I was able to turn that monstrous beast around to turn direction. I was very proud.

A not so proud moment was when the caribou relieved itself and we were front row for the unbelievable opening of its rear end and the release of whatever it most recently ate. Another not so great moment was when it released whatever it most recently drank. I’ve never seen a caribou’s butt before and I don’t think I ever will again. This is not a bad thing. I may have nightmares for several months. It opened to the size of a well before it pooped right in our faces. My gosh, I was in a trance, I barely reacted.

It was difficult to face rural poverty and see the children without underwear or clothes. Some of them had lice and it was a hard day to face the reality of so many Filipinos whose land has been stolen from them, are out of work, and cannot provide the most basic needs for their children.

A lot of us in the group are still processing it two days later.

I am one of them.