MANILA, HERE I COME

The ship Sulpicio Lines stopped in Iloilo, its regular route, to drop and pick up passengers and to load or unload cargoes. The ticket master gave an order that I was to be watched. He commanded that I must be put in a locked room in the ship. While Nanding, Andresa, and Norma were free to go out of the ship, I was in a stockade, with huge padlocks outside my door. People who saw me thought I was a criminal. Some found out the reason and said that the ship was terrible. I was numbed and emotionless, and I did not care. When my father and I dynamited-fish, the police apprehended us but we were not brought to jail. Now, I was on my way to Bible College in a stockade. Norma, the younger sister of Andresa taunted me, "Hala, dili na gyud ka makagawas dinha," (Look, you cannot get out of there.) I laughed, "Hahahahaha!"

When the ship sailed again I was released. The man who opened the door slapped me by the back and said, "Hey, you are free!" He laughed. I understood the whole thing that there was no malice in my locking me in. I went back to my cot and went to sleep. I woke up because the ship was being rocked by big waves. We ran across strong wind and the ship encountered huge waves. I took to the side of the ship to see. It was all dark, it was a morning dawn. I could only see the whiteness of the waves as they slammed agains the hard side of the ship. I reminisced the nights I floated alone on the sea while fishing. My eyes tried to pierce the darkness and saw nothing. I went back to sleep.

We arrived in Manila at seven in the morning. When I woke up Manila bay was everywhere. Nanding up to me, "You know, because you are very smart, the American missionary might bring you to America," he said. I said nothing. I thought of my mother and father. I thought of my Bible School that I left behind. "They did not even know that I was leaving," I muttered to myself.

The ship docked and the same man that locked me in Iloilo came and got me. He again locked me in the same room. Wordlessly, he went to his motions and then left. I agreed and calmly sat down. Two hours passed yet no one came to redeem me. I was beginning to get hungry, and as a young person I was a very big eater. Andresa handed bibingka and coffee. "Don't worry," she said, "Willhoite should be here anytime now." I nodded.

Noon time came, still there was no Willhoite. Perhaps, he did not receive the RCPI. Worry began to mark our faces. Should I be shipped back? Then the man assigned to keep me a prisoner unlocked the door. He motioned that I follow him. Clanking sounds of metals mixed with indistinguishable human voices filled my ears. Under my arms was my suitcase. I had no shoes, I was only on slippers. My maong pants was very tight, and my shirt unbuttoned on the upper part. Still I was not afraid, nor even concerned. I was only anxious. The man, in his late thirties, guided me going down. Andresa was watching me from the ground. Nanding was gone. He went to fetch Bro. Willhoite on a taxi. I was led into a shade then locked again inside some steel bars that resembled like a prisonhouse. Everyone now could see me, unlike the other room. All eyes gaped on me and their mouth went into a murmur. And afternoon came, and there was no Willhoite. And now I became uncomfortable. I began wondering if God had punished me for going to a oneness Bible College. I wanted to cry to call my mother. And then I became very hungry.

Bro. Willhoite came finally at seven in the evening and redeemed me. My price was thirty-nine pesos. Wordlessly I voiced out my complaints. My face showed anger. Willhoite led us to a parked red Land Rover. He explained that no RCPI came. He apologized to us and especially to me. I wanted to speak that all I cared was some food. I had not eaten the whole day. But somehow no words came out of my mouth.

"We'll eat later," he spoke, as if he heard me. Willhoite was heavy-set having a long and narrow chin that was deeply planted in his round face. He had a balding head with blue eyes that laughed silently. "Bro. Juanito, I had let the students hear your singing," he turned to me. "All of them know that you are coming." I spoke only to myself, "I am hungry."

The land rover ran like a very fast red snake that zigzagged the many wide roads as Willhoite passed other slow moving vehicles. I had not seen so many cars and so many people in my life. People crossed the road endlessly, and police were everywhere. Christmas just passed a couple of weeks ago and late shoppers were everywhere. This was January of 1970 and political unrest could be felt anywhere.

At long last we arrived at our destination, the compound of a former millionaire whose name was Atty Jose Montilla. He invited that the students of Willhoite come to his cottage prayer meeting. The service immediately started when we got in. People got up to shake our hands. Timidly I gingerly sat in a corner by the round post, hiding myself from everybody's eyes. A guitar laid on the side of a chair nearby and I reached for it. I tuned it up and then a young attractive lady took the front and led the singing. Her name was Venus Almeda. She was slender, pitite and fair-skinned. She sang "Chirst is the answer." My accompaniment followed her voice and my hunger left me.