One time, our pregnant neighbor labored from 8:00 o’clock in the morning until 12:00 midnight. It was a case of an aborted pregnancy. The fetus, about six months old, was already dead in the mother’s womb. A hilot attended to her, with me as the assistant.

I was so scared by the sight of the hilot pulling out incomplete parts of a dead boy from the mother’s womb. I asked her to put the body parts in a small box. I felt very cold and ready to collapse. Then I realized that as a health worker, I must fight my nervous feeling. With God’s help, I was able to keep myself composed. But there was much sweat on my back, even if it was raining hard outside.

Every one of us had different memorable experiences during our service leave. Mine was something I encountered for the first time. This was when I was requested by the rural health midwife to assist in handling a normal delivery.

Because it was my first time to assist a delivery, I felt very nervous. I did not expect that the baby would come out normally, because of the expression I saw on the mother’s face. She had a pained look and I was afraid she could not cope with the pain. Her expression, which surprised me, was something I could not forget. In fact, until now, the look in her face easily reminds me of how mothers give birth.

During my service leave, there was a moment that was so memorable to me. One day, there was a patient that needed to be hospitalized. Since the rural health midwife was then in another barangay (village) of her catchment area, I accompanied the mother, her sick baby and some relatives to the hospital.

In the hospital, I was at a loss about what to do. The physician who attended the patient told me to go to the pharmacy to buy some prescribed medicines. But I did not have money. The patient’s relatives did not have money either. Some people told me to go to the DSWD office, where I can possibly ask for free medicines. I went there and was able to get the medicines.

When I returned to the hospital, I was surprised that the mother of the sick baby was crying. She told me that her baby just died. I talked to the doctor. She told me she was sorry. The baby died of severe dehydration.

It was the first time I saw a very malnourished child in the Rural Health Unit (RHU). I was surprised when I saw her. I had seen pictures of malnourished children in books, but that time I personally saw one who was very slim and looked like an old man.

I asked her address. After a few days, I went to her house that was very far from our place. It was already noon when I reached there, and I gave her noodles, rice, and other food items. She said thanks for the help, and then I left.

During my service leave, I collected information through a house-to-house survey to come up with a profile of my barangay. I encountered a lot of difficulties, especially that I was alone. It was also my first time to really interact with people, interviewing as if I was scrutinizing their means of living.

One day, I interviewed a household where the husband and the wife were previously engaged in business. Two days later, the husband died of self-poisoning. According to a feedback I heard from their neighbor, the husband began to feel uneasy after my interview. He supposedly suspected me of spying for their former business colleague, with whom he had unpaid accounts.

The rumors had it that I was blamed for the incident. But I did not feel afraid, because I was not guilty.

Oct. 4, 1993. That was the date when my most unforgettable experience happened. The weather was rainy then, and lahar was expected to flow down from Mt. Pinatubo. But something unusual occurred. Flooding struck our barangay around 10:00 p.m. The water rose higher and higher up to the waist level and stayed that way for about three days.

As expected, roads, dikes and houses were damaged by the floodwaters. Home furniture were also soaked for three days. That was the first time I experienced a situation that I have not dreamed of.

My service leave plan was changed and I made some adjustments. For instance, how could I conduct a courtesy call on the provincial governor were there no vehicles available? Still I finished all my activities in due time.

It was seven o’clock in the morning and two female friends and I were going to the poblacion (town proper). We were happy that time because we had been invited to attend the Christmas Party of the Rural Health Unit (RHU).

At 7:30 a.m., we left the barangay on a banca (dugout canoe, without outriggers), just the three of us, all females. Then while we were paddling on Calao River, the deepest and the widest in our municipality, our banca suddenly and unexpectedly sank.

My friends and I were afraid. We shouted for help, but no one can hear us because we were in the middle of the river. We swam for our lives. Fortunately, a small motor boat passed by. The passengers saw me floating, swimming, crying and shouting. They had the boat approach us and we were picked out of the water.

We were in a state of shock when saved, and one of my friends was already unconscious. The passengers of the motor boat were confused about what to do. But 20 minutes my friend regained her consciousness.

Immediately after that incident, we went directly to the church to offer our prayers of thanks.

One experience I cannot forget was a trip home after a day’s duty at the Barangay Health Station (BHS), which was three kilometers from my own barangay. The rural health midwife and I were riding on a pump boat, the common vehicle in my town. After about five minutes on the river, our boat suddenly capsized. We were afraid because it was 6:10 p.m. and was already dark.

We shouted for help from the nearest house. After about half an hour, somebody came. It was good that we knew how to swim. We rode on the banca (with outriggers) of the person who came to help us and brought us to the nearest barangay.

We went to the house of a barangay health worker (BHW) in the barangay, where the midwife and I borrowed some dresses to change our wet clothing. The household members also prepared immediately some hot food for us to eat.

Whenever I went to the BHS, I always rode on a banca. But after the sinking experience, I always saw to it that I was on my way home before dark.

I had an unforgettable experience last Oct. 1990. When I arrived home for my service leave, I was shocked to hear from my mother that the people from the western part of our town had evacuated due to a military operation in that area. Some of the evacuees came to our barangay.

I immediately went to the evacuation center. When I saw the people there, I could not hold my emotion. I cried. I did not know how to help them. I only had little knowledge about health.

Still I tried to do something to help the evacuees. I assisted the staff of the Department of Social Work and Development (DSWD) in distributing relief items and food, and the health personnel in delivering health services.

I was thankful that after the military operation was over, I had learned many things and, at the same time, was able to help many people.

I rendered my service leave from Oct. 4 to Dec. 20, 1993. It was very easy for me because the people in my barangay were very cooperative. So whatever activities I conducted were successfully accomplished.

The thing that made me nervous happened during the entrance assembly on Oct. 4. I set the meeting towards evening because I knew that the household representatives had arrived from their farms by then. We started our meeting at 6:15 p.m.

Suddenly, while the meeting was going on, two men in civilian attire, each carrying an Armalite rifle, arrived. They requested the barangay captain to have me to talk to them for a few minutes.

As a wife of a soldier, I was afraid that the men would bring me with them. Fortunately, they only asked me about my position and purpose. After I gave them my answer, they told me not to be afraid because "we have the same objectives" for the people.

One activity I helped in was the distribution of toilet bowls by the sanitary inspector to those households that did not have toilets.

One time, there was a household head who came to ask for a toilet bowl. As a matter of procedure, the sanitary inspector and I followed him up days later and we asked him about the status of his toilet construction. The man claimed he had no nails for the construction, and the sanitary inspector gave him some.

The second time we visited, the man reasoned out that he had no time yet for the toilet construction.

On the third visit, we did not wait long. The man threatened us with a sharp bolo and we had to run away. He was angered by our persistent follow up. This encounter is still fresh in my mind.

For the first time in my life, I assisted and handled several deliveries during my service leave. The experience was very interesting and thrilling. Some mothers did wonder why I conducted pre-natal exams, when this is supposedly a function of a female health worker.

When I was surveying one sitio of my barangay, I came to the house of Mr. and Mrs. Cabagte. The wife had newly delivered a baby girl, but the baby had a cleft palate, was very thin, and had trush around her lips, tongue and gums. The baby could not suck from the breast of the mother because of her deformity.

I tried to convince the parents to bring the baby to the hospital for consultation. But I was told that this could not be done because the mother had not yet taken a bath, five days after delivery. I explained to the mother that it was all right for her to take a bath. This she did the following day, using water mixed with assorted herbal plants. I accompanied them to the hospital afterwards.

The day after, Mr. and Mrs. Cabagte came to the house. They want the baby discharged from the hospital because, as they told me, she was too weak and pale.

I accompanied them back to the hospital. There, the attending physician told me that the child would have to be confined. She would have to be fed using NGT (naso-gastric tube), and that some prescribed medicines were required for her trush.

But the parents did not want the child admitted, reasoning that they did not have money. So I asked help from some staff I know in the hospital, and from the staff of the DSWD (Department of Social Welfare and Development) in the hospital. They could only provide dextrose solution for the child. The drugs would have to be bought from the drugstore.

Anyway, the parents decided to have the child discharged. I pitied her, but I did not have money myself. From the poblacion, we proceeded to the Rural Health Unit (RHU). I applied for credit from the drugstore of the municipal health officer (MHO) to procure the prescribed drugs. I taught the mother how to give the medicine (Mycostatin) and also instructed her how to squeeze the milk from her breast into a clean glass, from which she could feed the baby with the use of a dropper. Since the baby was also having a high fever, I administered a sponge bath on her. I also gave her paracetamol that I had asked from the RHU staff.

From the RHU, we proceeded to the jeepney station. It was almost 12:00 noon, and we did not have lunch yet. Since there was no vehicle yet, we went to the carinderia of my friend where we took lunch, again on credit.

I cannot forget this incident wherein I have helped others through pangutang (availing of credits).

This was my first community exposure. I did an ocular survey and then conducted an entrance assembly where I explained the objectives of the service leave, the activities to be tackled with, and a short orientation on the UP system. After this, I conducted a house-to-house survey to gather relevant data such as the health status of the people and their means of living, etc.

During the survey, I encountered some difficulties in interviewing people, maybe due to political conflict. Then after two weeks, I heard some rumors from people who are against the new municipal administration. According to them, I was surveying to identify, list and count voters for the election. In fact, the election had been conducted months before my service leave.

Fortunately, I heard the rumors before I had conducted the community meeting to feedback my survey output. During the meeting, I was forced to request the rural health midwife to explain again the purpose of the survey and my other activities. I knew she could help me solve my problem because she had been working with the community residents for years, and had encountered the same situation before.

Later, I realized that the rumor that affected my survey was started by a political-minded person in the barangay who had a big influence on the residents, especially the tenants.

During my service leave, I encountered many kinds of problems in my community. But I only selected a few of them for my special memories.

Firstly, my mother and the barangay captain had been at odds with each other since 1987. They belong to opposite political camps. Their conflict also affected my relationship with the barangay captain until now (1993).

During the selection of a barangay scholar for SHS (in May and June 1992), the barangay kagawad (councilors) and the residents whole-heartedly endorsed me, without the knowledge of the barangay captain who was away for two months.

It was Oct. 1992 when our service leave started. Upon my return, somebody told me that the barangay captain embarrassed the kagawad (councilor) who facilitated the selection and endorsement process in his absence.

One time, I conducted an assembly pertaining to the construction of blind drainage. I felt sad that the barangay captain did not attend the meeting to confirm the activity as a community project. The meeting was held at the instance of the kagawad who facilitated my scholarship and the kagawad who chaired the beautification and cleanliness committee.

After our first sharing session, a faculty of SHS came to my barangay for service leave supervision. She interviewed the barangay captain, some kagawads, the rural health midwife, and some residents about my performance. In the evaluation form, the barangay captain rated me "Good," in addition to his comments of appreciation. The kagawads rated me "Very Good."

The day after, the barangay captain came and asked from me the evaluation form he filled up. He said he wanted to correct some of the comments he made in front of the visiting SHS faculty member. I gave in to his request.

It hurt me when he added a comment that I "did not cooperate with them" for failing to attend one scheduled meeting. I missed that because I chose to accompany a patient who had to be hospitalized. Another comment he added was that I "went my way without confirming with the barangay officials," in reference to the meeting I conducted for blind drainage construction.

The rural health midwife tried to defend me, but the barangay captain just shouted at her and disregarded her explanations. I tried to apologize for whatever mistakes I may have committed, but he also ignored me.

Days later, I was invited to attend an official meeting. It was presided by the barangay captain. The meeting started with an unrelated topic: the activities of my mother and that of the non-government organization (NGO) she was involved in. Again, I tried to apologize for anything, but the barangay captain ignored me. The kagawad responsible for my selection and the barangay treasurer explained the reason for the blind drainage assembly, but the barangay captain just insinuated that the kagawad was interested in his job.

During that time, I started to think I had better not continue with my service leave. But the local residents encouraged me to continue, for their sake. They said they were willing to help me for as long as the barangay captain treated me like the way he did.

Secondly, another memorable experience happened to me on Dec. 15, 1992. My grandfather died that day, but there was also a woman in labor, prime gravida at the age of 21, estimated to deliver her first baby in the evening of that day. Because the local hilot was sick, and there were no other hilots around, I was called to handle the delivery of the laboring woman.

I felt afraid of the invitation. I tried to explain that I had no authority to handle deliveries; that I had not observed any child delivery myself. Still I went with the family members who fetched me, to help them look for another hilot who can handle the delivery.

The "true labor" came and there was still no hilot around. When the contractions in the woman’s stomach became more frequent, to minutes’ intervals, my heart also beat faster and faster.

I did not show my fear to the family of the woman, even if I knew I did not have a cord clamp to use, betadine solution with which to clean the cord, and scissors to cut the cord. I kept on imagining the steps involved in handling a delivery as lectured to us in SHS.

The head of the baby was coming out, then it got stuck in the vaginal opening. After about 30 minutes in that same situation, I said that the woman needed to be referred to the clinic, some four hours travel from our barangay. Somebody called for a vehicle, another prepared a pack of extra clothing for the woman, and another was praying aloud.

I was on the verge of crying myself, but I tried to hide my tears. The vehicle had arrived, the bags had been packed. As the laboring woman was about to be lifted, she held her breath and this caused another contraction in her stomach. This was enough to push the head of the baby out. There was a shout of thanks from everyone.

I noticed that the cord was strung around the neck of the baby. I was afraid to handle that, but I tried to remember the appropriate procedure taught me by the rural health midwife. I inserted two fingers between the baby’s neck and the strung cord, and gently pushed up the cord towards the head.

After this procedure, I cut the baby’s cord using a bamboo stick sharpened with a knife, tied the cord stump with cotton thread, and then bathed and dressed the baby. I also gave tips on handling newly born infants.

My unforgettable experience happened during the house-to-house survey. I first went to the houses of tribal residents. I spent a long time interviewing the respondents because some of them did not know the names of their children. There was one mother whose age I asked. She answered that she was born in the 1960s during the mango season.

My memorable experience happened during the conduct of my house-to-house survey. One day, I requested a Barangay Health Worker (BHW) to accompany me in surveying one sitio (hamlet), the residents of which are tribals who speak a different language that I was not very familiar with.

In one house, I greeted the wife and told her about my purpose. Then I started the interview with some help from my companion. I saw that respondent was interested but I soon felt a sense of frustration and also pity for her.

I pitied her because she did not know the birthdays of her children. She also did not know her age. So I tried to ask help from her relatives. But they were not of much help either. They told me things and events that happened during the birth of the children, but I could not associate these with specific years. I only got confused.

There was one incident I cannot forget about my service leave. It happened on Nov. 10, 1990. That day, I went up the mountainside of my barangay to conduct my survey. There I encountered a family who made me nervous.

At first, I asked the wife if she could give me a little time to gather information about their household. She agreed. Her husband was around and under the influence of hard liquor.

I went on with my interview. When I started asking about the immunization status of her children, the husband interrupted me and said, "Oh! That is your reason for interviewing us. You are convincing us to have our children immunized. What a foolish job! If that is your intention, you can go out of my house. If you insist on finishing your interview, I will get my bolo."

The wife became nervous. She told me to get lost to avoid any incident. So I immediately went home and told the rural health midwife about my experience. She laughed at me, because she had become used to the manners of the man I mentioned. She told me he was only joking. Then we both laughed.

When I recall my service leave, there was one moment I cannot forget. This happened when I visited a sitio of our barangay named Kinawayan. I was accompanied by a fellow BHW (barangay health worker) and her husband. As we entered the house of the local datu (chieftain), I was amazed that the people inside stared at us and looked confused.

After a while, the datu made a sign language for the other people inside to go out. Then the thought crossed my mind that, since we were conducting a community health survey, the people were probably afraid that we were communist rebels.

Fortunately, Mrs. Barizo, a BHW, explained to them that we were there to conduct a survey for their benefit; that we were not communists.

The datu was clarified by her explanation and apologized for his vague understanding of our purpose in visiting the sitio. He called back his followers and explained to them the purpose of our activity. My tension was lessened.

Afterwards, one of the women approached me and tried to look at me closely. Then she burst into laughter. She remembered that I am the son of a teacher in the barangay, whom the people in the sitio had met already.

We then conducted the survey, which we finished around noontime. We ate our lunch in the sitio after which we returned home.

I encountered a lot of hardships when I conducted the house-to-house survey in my barangay. But one experience I can never forget was my difficulty in surveying one particular household. Every time I went to that house, it was closed and there was no one around. I decided to visit the house in the evening, but the people inside said they did not want to be interviewed at night.

Because I was very much interested in interviewing the owner of that household, I tried another idea of meeting him. I invited him to a social occasion in the barangay. He came and I was able to talk to him. While interviewing him, I soon found out about his problem. He had murdered a person in town. Because of this, he could not stay in his house and could no longer participate in some barangay activities. I learned that he still could not decide whether or not to surrender to the police.

When I was home for my service leave, I really enjoyed being in my barangay. I was with my people about three months, going with them and cooperating in their activities. There were problems I encountered, though I think facing problems is natural for a human being. I had many experiences during that service leave.

One experience that had been planted in my mind was when I got scolded by a housewife I was about to interview. She did not want to be interviewed, so I left. Her attitude left me wondering, because she was a schooled woman.

I was challenged by her behavior. The next I returned to their house to interview her. But only the husband was there. So I interviewed him instead.

After the interview, I asked him why his wife was angry at me and did not want to be interviewed the day before. He told me, "just forgive her scolding you and understand her because it is the nature of women when they are pregnant."

I then realized that during pregnancy, there is a time during the first two to four months when the woman feels angry at times, that is it their nature.

When I arrived home for my service leave, I immediately started my survey after I had made a courtesy call on the barangay captain and the rural health midwife.

One experience I will never forget happened when I surveyed a household in a sitio. I chanced upon the members conducting a ritual called "honga" in our language, for which they butchered a carabao (water buffalo) and pigs and also served rice wine.

I attended the ritual. Unfortunately, I got so drunk and went home like a pig, crawling on the ground. The following day, the rural health midwife learned about what happened and scolded me with both insulting and advising words. I told her I would not do that thing again.

I had an experience during my service leave that is worth sharing. It was something that could make you laugh and then feel sad about later. It was a case of bad timing.

Since my barangay had a population of 1,648 coming from 269 households, I tried to finish surveying 30 households in one day. I did child weighing by purok (zone) only on Saturdays. In short, I doubled up my time because I was the only one surveying a very big barangay.

In my service leave plan, my target was to finish the gathering, tallying and collation of data by Nov. 12. By Nov. 11, I had finished my targeted activity. I had made the first copy of the community profile (from which I would make copies for the barangay, the barangay health station, the rural health unit, and the school), and had also finalized the spot map.

Then bad luck came. Typhoon "Ruping" struck the next day and caused flooding in our municipality. Since our barangay is along the river, we also suffered from the flooding, which washed away the community profile I had just made. What I completed the night before was gone the next day. It was as simple as that.

Since my childhood, I hadn’t experienced activities like what I did during my service leave. I talked with barangay officials and household heads like an ideal citizen.

There were both happy and sad moments. During my house-to-house survey, it frequently happened that I would perspire because of hunger and thirst. There was a time when a household I surveyed prepared food for me, to show their concern for the hunger that they saw in my face.

At first, I didn’t like to take up a health course. But as I observed many patients suffering from different problems in the hospital, I felt their need. So for now, they are my inspiration. If God permits me to finish my course, I am very sure to return to the area of my assignment.

I encountered many experiences during the service leave. I met people who asked me for help, and people who were pilosopo (argumentative). I also got invited to some parties. I felt happy some times, and felt lonely at other times. I had to face challenges in life and prove that what I was doing was for the benefit of the community.

Besides the above, I experienced something which I considered most unforgettable. It was a difficult task that the municipal mayor wanted me to do. Unfortunately, they approached me one day before a scheduled seminar. I was chosen as one of the speakers assigned to talk about health workers. The seminar was about the Community-Based Health Program of the province.

I had very little time to prepare the topic to discuss. I asked the mayor why they did not approach me one week before to allow me time to prepare. He only advised me to do my best. That was enough for me to follow him.

I did my best to look for references to my topic. I did not want to embarrass myself in front of the barangay officials of the municipality who were to attend the seminar. Fortunately, I succeeded in my presentation.

I was glad when the time came for us students to go home for service leave. It was the opportunity for me to see my parents again. I wanted to prove to them that even if I am a male, I could do things that female health personnel can do.

Many things happened since I returned home. One memorable experience was my effort to organize 36 barangay health workers (BHWs) coming from the different barangays of our municipality. I felt good because even if I was a young boy, my activity was participated in by women aging 30 years old and above.

Another experience happened when the rural health midwife had a case of a woman who had just delivered a child. The woman suffered vaginal lacerations during the delivery. She was choking and had to be referred to the hospital. I cannot forget this incident because I was the one who prepared her things and brought them from their house to the hospital.

My service leave was enjoyable, but also difficult and full of challenges. I shared the problems of the rural health midwife when I assisted her in immunizing children in her four catchment barangays. Because there was no available transportation, we had to walk or cross the river to reach our destinations.

I was not ashamed to approach the municipal mayor, the municipal health officer, and the rural health midwife for the courtesy calls and to ask materials needed for the service leave. I also went to other barangays to help the rural health midwife in giving iodized oil and vitamin A during the Araw ng Sangkap Pinoy.

During the house-to-house survey, I encountered many respondents who did not know the ages of their children and other household members. I also crossed a river several times, even if I did not know how to swim, to finish the household interviews and learn the health problems of the people.

After I had reported for over a week in the Rural Health Unit (RHU), a patient asked me: "Doctor, will you consult regarding the pain I am suffering." I replied that I am not a doctor but a Barangay Health Worker (BHW) rendering my service leave.

The most memorable experiences during my service leave happened when I assisted the Rural Health Unit (RHU) personnel with their primary health care services.

On Mondays and Tuesdays we conducted barangay visitations. In the barangays, I helped in distributing the medicines to sick people. Through activities like this, I was able to learn more about how a health worker deals with the people. I also helped in health education.

Every Wednesday, I was in-charge of taking blood pressures and dressing wounds. I learned a lot about how to treat and dress wounds.

On Thursdays and Fridays, I helped record and collect data for the immunization activity and also gave oral polio vaccines to children. I learned how to fill-up the yellow card (child growth chard and immunization record).

My memorable experiences were enjoyable but tiresome.

My unforgettable experience during the service leave happened on Nov. 21, 1990. In the morning of that day, the rural health midwife and I were hiking our way towards Barangay Tumogbong for an immunization activity. Along the way, we were suddenly confronted by a group of about 38 New People’s Army (NPA) guerrillas. I felt very nervous, but tried to stay calm.

Then one NPA member approached us and said, "Tagi kami han iyo bulong" (Give us some of your medicines). The midwife and I opened the box we were carrying and gave away half of the medicines inside.

The NPAs did not harm us. Instead, they thanked us for the help. "Diri kamo mangangalimtan namon" (We will not forget you), was their parting word as they went away. Still, I was shocked by that sudden encounter.

Then we proceeded with our destination and conducted the immunization acivity. We left the barangay around 3:30 p.m. and arrived home at 6:20 p.m.

That encounter with the NPA was one experience I will treasure throughout my life.

The best experience I would like to share is about my first time to assist a delivery.

It was Nov. 12, 1990, at two o’clock in the afternoon. The rural health midwife asked me to go with her to assist a delivery she was attending. We hiked four hours to reach our destination. We used rubber boots because it was raining then, and the road was muddy along the way.

It was around six o’clock in the evening when we arrived at the house of a mother who was in labor. It was only then that we learned that she did not have a normal delivery during previous pregnancies.

We spent the evening preparing the needs of the mother for delivery in the hospital. In our observation, she was already weak. But because the road was so muddy, there was no vehicle that could take her to the hospital that night.

Around 6:15 the next morning, we were getting ready for breakfast when the mother asked for help. She felt that the baby in her womb was already pushing out. So we helped her. And she delivered a baby boy, a healthy child. The day was Conception Day, and the child was named Concepcion.

My memorable experience happened when I assisted our municipal health officer (MHO) in attending to a delivering mother who was suffering from prolonged labor. The case was referred to her and we went to the barangay where the patient lived. We hired a motorboat in getting there and we were accompanied by a rural health midwife and a barangay health worker.

At the house of the patient, Dr. Reynes (the MHO) asked me to get a flashlight and assist her. I went near the patient. On cue, I focused the light on the vaginal opening of the patient, but she felt ashamed and clamped her legs instead.

At first, I was at a loss why she did that. I thought there was another reason. Then I felt ashamed myself. After her delivery the child, I was told that it was her first time to deliver a child. The reflex action of clamping her legs was due to the fact that I was a male assisting in the delivery.

When I went home, I recalled the things of I had done in assisting our MHO. I felt elated that I had undergone that experience. I resolved that the next time I handle a delivery, I will be less ashamed in dealing with the mothers.

My most unforgettable experience happened when I conducted the entrance assembly. Of course, I did my best to gather a large number of community residents, mostly evacuees from barangays submerged by lahar, to attend the assembly. Majority of the households was represented and the meeting started successfully.

However, while the program was going on, somebody shouted that there were relief goods to be given to the evacuees. When the audience heard this, they rushed out of the meeting area towards the distribution center.

In short, the entrance assembly was disrupted. I really cannot forget this.

My most unforgettable experience happened last October 1993, and it went this way:

I had already disseminated to my community people that I was going to conduct an entrance assembly. I had coordinated with the barangay officials and had the date set for this activity.

On the agreed date and time, I felt hopeful because the weather was fine and the sun was shining bright. And one-third of the household representatives had arrived in the barangay hall, the venue of the meeting. The barangay officials were by the river, monitoring the flow of lahar. We waited for them to come to the venue.

What we did not know was that the lahar warning level had been raised to No. 3, for it was raining in the Mt. Pinatubo area. The barangay officials soon arrived and alerted the gathered residents. Since the housing area of the evacuation site was lowland, the gathered people scattered and rushed to their houses to get their belongings and then returned to the barangay hall.

The barangay officials used radio to call for service trucks to transport the people to higher grounds. While we were being transported, the rain clouds came and it rained very hard.

I felt afraid then because it was the first time I met such experience. Anyway, that was the first and last lahar flow in our evacuation area. I continued with my other service leave activities, without the formal entrance assembly.

I have a very memorable service leave experience which I cannot forget. This happened when I conducted the entrance assembly.

At first, I thought I could not organize this activity, because gathering people in one place is not easy. Despite the difficulty, I continued my preparations to the best of my ability. I spent much time making posters announcing the assembly, and doing house-to-house visits to disseminate the information, until the day of the scheduled assembly came.

In the morning, I prepared the materials needed for the afternoon assembly. On the scheduled hour, I was happy to see many people attending the meeting. I thanked God because the meeting was a success.

Based on that experience, I realized that nothing is impossible to a man with a definite purpose; that all problems have solutions. I also understood that when dealing with people, you need to establish good rapport so that you can talk to them with confidence.

One of the unforgettable experiences during my service leave happened during the entrance assembly. It was my first time to be in front of fellow barangay residents, majority of whom were household heads. Hours before the meeting, I felt very uneasy, thinking about what I would say in front of my people.

As I started speaking during the meeting, my heart beat faster. I felt cold all over my body, including my hands and feet. As I watched the different facial expressions of my audience, I sometimes strayed from the topic I was discussing. They did not mind very much about my lapses. Perhaps many of them were not listening, thinking that I was still too young.

Anyway, the meeting was successful. Those who listened asked questions that were relevant to the topics I discussed. After that meeting, I promised to improve myself so that I can make a better presentation during the exit assembly.

The most memorable experience during my service leave happened when I attended the first sharing session in Borongan, Eastern Samar. There were some delays and difficulties in traveling to that town, because of the muddy condition of the road in central Samar. The weather then was stormy and rainy.

I arrived in Borongan at around 8:00 p.m. I first went to the church. Inside the church, I saw a woman who was wearing the uniform of a public school teacher. I approached her and started a conversation with her. I told her that it was my first time to reach that town; that my purpose was to attend a sharing session; that I didn’t know anybody from that place.

The teacher understood my situation and took pity on me. She invited me to stay at her house for the night. I welcomed her kindness very much.

This was one experience I can’t really forget:

Our first sharing session was scheduled for last Oct. 25, 1994, at the Bagacay Beach Resort in Calbayog City. In the morning of that day, I heard over the radio about a tropical depression in the Leyte-Samar area. But because I expected that our faculty preceptor would attend the session, I hired a small motorboat to take me to the city.

While we were in the middle of the sea, the wind started to blow and there were big waves. Then, in this condition, the motorboat’s engine stopped. I really did not know what to do. I cried and prayed hard to God to save our lives.

After a few minutes, the motorboat was able to start again and the weather turned better. I arrived in Calbayog around 10 a.m.

At the meeting place, I learned from my group mates that our community preceptor did not come. Still we continued with our sharing session. As group leader, I checked the requirements of every member.

After the session, we went to the barangay of one classmate and had a picnic in their beautiful waterfalls, the Blanca Aurora Falls in San Jorge municipality.

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