Lives of quiet desperation

Yesterday’s outreach event was, by all accounts, a success. People in need were given some provisions for which they expressed gratitude. At least for the fifty-plus families we aided, their worries about finding provisions have been alleviated for the remainder of the year. Although perhaps our help was little more than putting a bandaid on a wound, it could also be said that something is always better than nothing.

The hike to Mampueng Falls turned out to be tougher than I anticipated. Lots of rocks to crawl over en route, and that’s not my strong suit. Still, I’m glad for the experience. Hiking along, the thought occurred to me that feeling sorry for yourself, as I sometimes do, is yet another manifestation of my selfish nature. Seeing the desperate lives lived by the indigenous Aeta people we encountered was a stark reminder that I’m one of the luckiest bastards around, comparatively speaking. And despite the harsh circumstances of their lives, the natives we encountered were warm, friendly, and appreciative. There’s a lesson in there somewhere that I hope to learn to embrace.

To the photos then:

The trail to and from the falls
Getting to the Aeta village required two river crossings in our vehicles
We had several other foot crossings to come in the very near future
The Wednesday Walkers were proud participants in the outreach effort
The gathering crowd
I was asked to introduce our group
The scene from afar
And closer up
The gifts and the recipients
Shyrel (on the right) prepared spaghetti lunches for the attendees
And there were treats for kiddies as well.
Time to head out for the falls
We began with a rocky river crossing. One of several, most of them requiring wet feet
But we all managed to stay dry on this one
Started off pleasant enough
Easy peasy so far
No surprise that there would be stream crossings en route to the falls
Walking on slimy rocks isn’t all that fun though
I didn’t have anyone to carry me across like this lucky girl.
A respite on dryer ground
An Aeta family along the way
Away in the manger, with no crib for her bed
It’s a hard life out here for some folks
Scott’s kind of trail
And then things got a little rocky
And then they got big rocky
Up over is all you can do
Our guide taking a breather
A mountain view
A water view
This is as close as I personally got to the falls. I was tired of getting my rocks off.
These brave souls made it all the way
That was a bridge too far for me
I think only three or four actually had the guts to cross it
Everyone who did lived to tell about it
Village life
Our after-hike picnic

It was a good day of doing good. Maybe the perspectives I gained will carry forward and help me forget about what I don’t have and appreciate the things I do. That’s a pretty selfish takeaway, but giving and receiving go together, it seems

Time to shower up and gain the perspectives that come from consuming multiple bottles of beer. Thanks for dropping by!

“The mass of men lead lives of quiet desperation. What is called resignation is confirmed desperation. From the desperate city you go into the desperate country, and have to console yourself with the bravery of minks and muskrats. A stereotyped but unconscious despair is concealed even under what are called the games and amusements of mankind. There is no play in them, for this comes after work. But it is a characteristic of wisdom not to do desperate things..”

Henry David thoreau

3 thoughts on “Lives of quiet desperation

  1. Congrats on a successful wealth-redistribution campaign! Heh.

    I don’t mind social action when it’s done voluntarily. True compassion is uncompelled compassion. And as you say: it might not amount to much, but it’s better than nothing. If the Aeta want to rise out of poverty, then that’s up to them. Maybe they don’t even see themselves as impoverished.

    Counting your blessings is a good way to take stock as we begin a new year. You are indeed fortunate.

    Yeah, I don’t think I’d have the balance to cross that high bridge you showed. Scary.

    Beautiful pics.

  2. “Maybe they don’t even see themselves as impoverished.”

    I’m actually intrigued and curious about the Aeta population. My sense is that they choose to stay within their own communities rather than integrate into society at large. I’m not aware of any laws or other discriminatory practices that cause this. I’ve noticed that you very rarely see Aeta people working in jobs that might ease their poverty. For example, I don’t recall ever seeing an Aeta working in the malls, hotels, convenience stores, or the bars. I don’t know why that is. I’ve never heard a Filipino saying anything disparaging about the Aetas; in fact they seem to respect their history and traditions.

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