The Filipino Faces We See

Children at Lonoy Elementary School watch while we hung a new
plywood roof in their Kindy classroom.
© 2014 Andrea Rip

When I began thinking about volunteering in the Philippines after the Super Typhoon, I imagined arriving in a depressed and demolished island and helping raise the spirits of the people along with raising their houses back.

I was pretty wrong. While the damage on the Island was evident as soon as I arrived to Ormoc on the SuperCat Ferry, the people who I crossed paths with showed gratefulness for what they did have left, a resilience to rebuild and help restore their communities, and generosity towards those of us who came to help them with their clean up and rebuilding efforts.

This very social boy at the Gawad Kalinda Rebuild project site loved to pose.
© 2014 Andrea Rip

Most notable were the children, who with a remarkable curiosity and gratitude, found our project teams working at their schools, churches, nearby homes, and neighborhoods. They watched; the giggled with each other; they picked their crushes from among us; they waited for an opportunity to pick up a shovel, or wheelbarrow, or sledge hammer and work with us; and they loved to ask our names and find out where we are from.

Two children cleaning up in the morning and watch the workers start
heading off to shovel and lay bricks at Gawad Kalinga in Ormoc.
© 2014 Andrea Rip

In most cases, they are safe and stay out of the way, but eventually several kids will start creeping in toward our work and we have to tell them to leave, close the door, or stand behind an invisible line or yellow caution tape. They are so curious, but in lieu of a wall falling down on them, we could get a little hard nosed with our demands to "hawa hawa" (get away or back off).

Children at Valencia Central School watching us depart the work
site for the day.
© 2014 Andrea Rip

The most fantastic encounter with a little girl was on my very last work day in Ormoc. The day before, I learned from Sheila that children show respect to adults by taking the adult's hand and raising it to touch their forehead. The entire time I was in the Philippines, I had only seen children approach her in this way and never any of the volunteers who I worked with for a month. On this day, I forgot my work gloves at our project site and had to run back to where our belongings were stored in order to retrieve them. On my short walk a small girl - maybe three or four years old - passed me on the way. Only two of us were on the pathway and I stopped and said 'hello.' She smiled, took my hand, and raised the back of it to her forehead. I couldn't sort out what to say in response, but was immediately impressed by the depth of appreciation even the children had for the work I contributed to in their country.

Hard not to love every one of them for the henna in their hair, a crooked smile full of missing teeth, shy pokes on the arm, or their exuberance to to wave and beg our names, we all inevitably have photos of the smiles - and memories of signing their tshirts, playing games, and holding them on our laps.