10-28-10
We are back from assessing the damage from the typhoon. We drove about 10 hours the first day. Dennis had it in his mind to just drive until we got to the hard hit area and sleep in the car. I convinced him to stop. To give you an idea of our accommodations a deluxe room at the only hotel we found was 10 dollars for 12 hours. I don’t know how much the truckers had to pay that were cooking and sleeping in the parking lot. The place was noisy with people coming and going all night. The room was shabby but clean. Unfortunately it was covered with bugs. They were on the walls, the ceiling and floor. Interestingly swarms of ants rushed in immediately to eat the few bugs I stepped on, and then disappeared again. The window in the bathroom wouldn’t shut so more came in attracted to the light. Dennis had the brilliant idea of turning off the lights and most went back out the window to the light outside. Fortunately they were not biting bugs, but one did go up my nose. Early the next day we arrived at the province where the typhoon made landfall and it was extensively damaged. The typhoon damage reminded me so much of 
television footage that I had seen in the states of the aftermath of hurricanes in the south and southeast. The landscape was bare, most trees were blown down and the ones left standing were stripped of leaves and branches. Many houses were flattened, more were without roofs and had partially collapsed walls and of course those with glass windows were blown out. It was difficult to view the devastation. Megi was a category 5 typhoon and lasted a terrifying six hours. One Stake President and his wife told of lashing the roof of their humble wooden home down with rope and then they and their three children, the oldest being only twelve, struggling to pull down as the wind lifted it up. We drove around their neighborhood and were happy to see that miraculously their house stayed relatively intact while the houses around them including the cement block houses right next door were heavily damaged. There is a beautiful LDS chapel that Dennis and I stopped at on a previous trip to use the restroom. It was situated along a river surrounded by trees. When we stopped this time I didn’t recognize it because there were no trees. From the outside the chapel 
didn’t look too bad, but inside was a mess. The wind came in from broken windows and roof; it was like an explosion inside. We spent the next two days driving around the area surveying damage. We met with government officials to discuss their most pressing needs. There was no electricity but we drove north at night and stayed in a nicer hotel with a generator. In the tree to the right is a piece of a roof and the cross bar of a electric pole. On the fourth day we drove to the other side of the country to check where the typhoon crossed over before it left the Philippines. The damage there was flooding. When the typhoon first hit the winds were so strong that it blew the rain along with it 
and the landfall area, except for the coastal area that got a 6 foot tidal surge, didn’t flood. As it passed over the country it slowed down and the eastern side got the flash floods and heavy rain. The picture I've added is not of a lake but a flooded field. There were people with sticks looking in the bushes along the water's edge for rodents and snakes for dinner. The young men are showing us a string of rats. I'm told they taste like pork.
I am not as strong as I thought I was, and still being on the tail end of a bout with the flu, this experience took a lot out of me. Not just physically but mostly emotionally. This humanitarian missionary job is a hard one. It is so tough to see and be involved in suffering on such a large scale. It is hard to request supplies and then have to defend and “sell” your request to those who control the humanitarian funds; especially when there is so much immediate need. This is also a country that is so full of corruption and deceit, and that you have to be very careful that the money or supplies are not misused. It is hard to help people while trying to encourage self sufficiency and discourage a culture of entitlement and “easy money” living on the charity of others.
A bright spot in this tour of destruction happened when we stopped for lunch. The locals who were showing us around could not find a restaurant that was not destroyed or that had food. They reluctantly (not wanting to subject the American visitors to what they considered we
would think substandard) suggested a pancit (noodle) place. It was the side yard of a house with tables under an overhang. Dennis and I like pancit so we were happy, but what made it really special was after we got our food who should walk up but a group of young missionaries. There were about 12 of them. They had been out in their grubby clothes helping to clean up and reconstruct. We told them to sit and we’d buy them lunch. There were 4 Americans among them, 3 boys and a girl. There was instant recognition; the girl was from Sequim, Bailey Eveland. It made me so happy to see these beautiful young people with such positive attitudes and so full of enthusiasm.
television footage that I had seen in the states of the aftermath of hurricanes in the south and southeast. The landscape was bare, most trees were blown down and the ones left standing were stripped of leaves and branches. Many houses were flattened, more were without roofs and had partially collapsed walls and of course those with glass windows were blown out. It was difficult to view the devastation. Megi was a category 5 typhoon and lasted a terrifying six hours. One Stake President and his wife told of lashing the roof of their humble wooden home down with rope and then they and their three children, the oldest being only twelve, struggling to pull down as the wind lifted it up. We drove around their neighborhood and were happy to see that miraculously their house stayed relatively intact while the houses around them including the cement block houses right next door were heavily damaged. There is a beautiful LDS chapel that Dennis and I stopped at on a previous trip to use the restroom. It was situated along a river surrounded by trees. When we stopped this time I didn’t recognize it because there were no trees. From the outside the chapel 
didn’t look too bad, but inside was a mess. The wind came in from broken windows and roof; it was like an explosion inside. We spent the next two days driving around the area surveying damage. We met with government officials to discuss their most pressing needs. There was no electricity but we drove north at night and stayed in a nicer hotel with a generator. In the tree to the right is a piece of a roof and the cross bar of a electric pole. On the fourth day we drove to the other side of the country to check where the typhoon crossed over before it left the Philippines. The damage there was flooding. When the typhoon first hit the winds were so strong that it blew the rain along with it 
and the landfall area, except for the coastal area that got a 6 foot tidal surge, didn’t flood. As it passed over the country it slowed down and the eastern side got the flash floods and heavy rain. The picture I've added is not of a lake but a flooded field. There were people with sticks looking in the bushes along the water's edge for rodents and snakes for dinner. The young men are showing us a string of rats. I'm told they taste like pork.I am not as strong as I thought I was, and still being on the tail end of a bout with the flu, this experience took a lot out of me. Not just physically but mostly emotionally. This humanitarian missionary job is a hard one. It is so tough to see and be involved in suffering on such a large scale. It is hard to request supplies and then have to defend and “sell” your request to those who control the humanitarian funds; especially when there is so much immediate need. This is also a country that is so full of corruption and deceit, and that you have to be very careful that the money or supplies are not misused. It is hard to help people while trying to encourage self sufficiency and discourage a culture of entitlement and “easy money” living on the charity of others.
A bright spot in this tour of destruction happened when we stopped for lunch. The locals who were showing us around could not find a restaurant that was not destroyed or that had food. They reluctantly (not wanting to subject the American visitors to what they considered we
would think substandard) suggested a pancit (noodle) place. It was the side yard of a house with tables under an overhang. Dennis and I like pancit so we were happy, but what made it really special was after we got our food who should walk up but a group of young missionaries. There were about 12 of them. They had been out in their grubby clothes helping to clean up and reconstruct. We told them to sit and we’d buy them lunch. There were 4 Americans among them, 3 boys and a girl. There was instant recognition; the girl was from Sequim, Bailey Eveland. It made me so happy to see these beautiful young people with such positive attitudes and so full of enthusiasm. 
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