With Love, From Iloilo

The short-term missions team from Grace Church (me, Jessika Martin and Zak Phillips) started our two-week adventure Monday, June 24, with a less than stellar beginning. Our flight from St. Louis to Los Angeles was delayed for three hours, causing us to miss our international connection to Korea on Monday night. My oldest daughter Natalie Mattes, missionary to Iloilo, who was coming from Dallas to meet us in LA and accompany us to the Philippines, purposely missed her flight so she could travel with us. That turned out to be a lifesaver as I had never traveled internationally before and had not been briefed on a lot of the things I would need to know to navigate the international airports.

The three days of travel were a blur of cramped seating on airplanes, waiting in terminals, snatching sleep with our backpacks as pillows, security checks, baggage checks, customs, Asian food in small portions, changing flight reservations, making unexpected hotel reservations, and the sing-song voices of the Korean flight attendants trying to make the 12-hour flight from Incheon Airport to Manila more bearable. The extra funds we had raised over our budget turned out to be essential as we incurred a number of expenses we hadn't planned for because of the delay.

We finally arrived in Iloilo after another two-hour delay in the Manila airport. We were able to make some good use of the time, though, by visiting the Cinnabon there and a fruit smoothie kiosk. I felt proud that I turned down cinnamon rolls for the fresh fruit smoothie, until Natalie told me how much sugar syrup they put in them to make them taste so good. For the record, Zak ate both high-calorie items!

At 6'4", Zak had his first encounter with an awestruck Filipino when the security officer at the Manila Airport kept shaking his head in wonder. "How old are you?" he asked. "How tall are you? What do you eat to make you grow so tall?" Zak handled it all in good humor. It was the first of numerous stares and jaw-dropping looks that he got, as he towered above all of the Filipinos we met.

Our first experience on the roads in the Philippines was in the taxi-van we used to get us and all of our stuff from the Iloilo airport to Natalie's house. It was now Thursday, June 27, a full four days after our journey had begun; (we "lost" a day crossing the international date line.)

Apparently there are no traffic signs or lights in Iloilo. There are no yield signs either. There were no speed limit signs that I could see. There were no signs at all! The van driver probably passed five cars at once, driving on the wrong side of the road, merrily beeping his horn as he went by everyone. Whoever got to the intersection first, or muscled their way in, had the right of way. Drivers made U-turns whenever and wherever they wanted. They also turned in either direction no matter what lane they were in. It was bewildering and harrowing to say the least, as they all appeared to be vying for spots in the Indy 500. I tried to watch out of the side window instead of looking ahead as we sped along the bumpy road. I was hoping Zak and Jessika, both new to driving at ages 16 and 15 respectively, weren't internalizing all of the bad habits they were witnessing.

As we arrived at her house, Natalie gave us the option of "jumping in" immediately or taking it easy. We could stay at her house and relax a little while, or we could go to the San Isidro relocation site, to the church plant she was involved with, and join them for their weekly prayer meeting on Thursday afternoon.

We decided to jump in. Why not?

More to come!!