Between towns on the leg of our trip between Cotabato and now Pagadian, riding near the back of the bus, whenever Susan and I looked at each other, we continued to quietly question why we had been spared. We wondered when the nightmare would begin all over again and why the bus driver and the conductor acted as if nothing had happened. They were with us throughout the ordeal and had stood around and allowed the Ilaga gang to do their dirty work. They seemed more determined now than ever to complete the three-hour journey. ”What do you suppose their role in all of this was?” I asked Susan, as if she had a better sense of it than I did. The conductor eventually checked on us with genuine concern. Formal, as always, he addressed us as Mister and Mrs..
When we got off the bus at Pagadian, the police immediately took the driver and the conductor into custody. They told us that they were looking for the people who were responsible for “holding up” the bus but said nothing about any kidnapping or killing. It was all very suspicious that the police were there at the station waiting for the bus. “Who knows?” Susan said. ”Maybe they just happened to be here and heard about it through the grapevine.”
“What do we have do now?” I asked the police officer. ”We just happened to be at the wrong place at the wrong time.”
“This is the Philippines. As witnesses, you’ll need to give a statement. We’re just after the people who are responsibility. In fact, the more we hurry the sooner you may go. We were the best police force of the year.”
“Why, when we planned our vacation, my wife and I didn’t know what the situation was. She has been teaching in Makati for a little over a year; and we’ve been so busy that we haven’t had the chance to get out of Manila much.”
“My oldest daughter, Qiu, and my third child, Bia, are now living in Manila. It’s not unusual for children to move away from here to go to school. And surely you’re well aware of the trouble we’re having at our universities up there, and with what is going on around here, it only shows that none of us are immune.”
“But you say this won’t take very long and that you won’t hold us up. Then why don’t we get it over with?”
“It’s true that I said this won’t take very long, but I don’t know how long that will be…no telling given the seriousness of this incident. Even as it is, we won’t be able to complete our investigation without your full cooperation. This is not America, where I am sure things move along quicker. It may surprise you that many of our systems are the same as yours. But you don’t need to worry because you’re both considered victims.”
“Well, then I’m relieved; we both are. Why I’m sure most of the other passengers can give you more information than we can.”
“We don’t speak the language. That made it very hard for us to know what was going on. And before then soldiers stopped us and dragged people off the bus. As foreigners, it was so confusing.”
He listened to us, politely. Despite our repeated explanation, he couldn’t be made to see that we couldn’t contribute much to the investigation. At that point we knew very little about Christian vigilante groups such as The Magnificent Seven or the Ilaga gang (otherwise known as Christian rats). And I certainly didn’t want them to know that I was a journalist and had anything to do with the unrest in Manila. Susan would later say to Nick, “Can you imagine how much trouble we would’ve been in had they found that out.”
It took them some time to get back to us, and meanwhile while they interviewed all the other surviving passengers we worried that they would somehow found out about our immigration problems. “That’s the last thing we should be worried about,” I said. “For that they would only deport us.”
“Do you even know how many there were?” Susan asked abruptly.
“No, there were more than ten and less than fifteen, but I can’t be sure. That’s another problem we have. We can’t be sure of anything.”
“Do you think they all were killed? I would like to think that they weren’t and think that Christians are more civilized than that…and that Christians and Muslims can live together in harmony.” Under the pressure, she started crying.
The police officer arranged for us to come over to his house for the evening, where his wife fixed us a wonderful Chinese meal: Hunan we were told.
At dinner, it became quite clear that he wanted us to spend the night at his house…something we weren’t in a position to turn down. That meant getting involved in an awkward situation. It seemed to us as if he were creating for himself a conflict of interest, which seemed strange to us. What was he looking to get from us, as an investigator of the case and our host the whole time we were in Pagadian?
Although custom may have dictated this show of hospitality, I’m sure there was more to it than that, and to even have them share their home for a night, not to mention the week that they did, was more than we had a right to expect. All this time we wondered if we should consult a lawyer, but you don’t want to jump into a fire before you have to. The problem was that we just didn’t know what we should do.
We tried to keep from talking about the case, but our host, abetted by my natural curiosity, couldn’t avoid it. He didn’t see why he should risk his career by allowing us to get away before they finished their investigation, he said, and after he said that all of his hospitality began to make sense.
We got to discussing the conflict, and our host of Chinese decent said that he preferred not to be in the middle of it, and that from what he’d seen no one could win.
Every morning, of course after breakfast, he escorted us down to the police station. “Are you and the Mrs. Christians?” he asked one day.
“I don’t know about her,” I said, “but I’m an Adventist, if I’m pressed.”
By the time Saturday came around, we were still discussing the conflict.
“All hell has broke loose all over Mindanao and up to now you can blame it mostly on the Christians,” our host was saying. “You won’t see me taking sides. I can’t afford to.”
Susan tried to stay out of it as much as possible and, measuring her response, said, “With its climate, its history, and its attractions…the bay, the islands, the beach, the hot and cold springs, the waterfalls and the caves…Pagadian has a lot to offer tourist.” It seemed the more we concentrated on the conflict, the more she talked about the good time she was having.
She also quietly helped around the home, helped in every suitable way with the shopping and the cleaning. She was right in there with all of her energy and enjoyed herself when we were shown the sights.
“There’s no use waiting for something that isn’t going to happen,” she said. “They’ll never finish the investigation.”
But I did find the Adventist church, for our host followed up on it for me. Susan wouldn’t go. I didn’t try to make her, because inwardly my own convictions weren’t that strong. Given the circumstances, I worried about being a Christian and felt it was easier for our Chinese host who certainly made it clear from the start that he was a Buddhist. He wasn’t, however, very consoled by his faith, as he saw more and more death and destruction: it was all part of his job to become increasing involved.
Randy Ford
