I’ve spent the remaining days of my first week in Palo recovering from my cold and getting used to things here. I was really glad that I had no schedule to keep. My expensive mosquito net that I bought in England turns out to be not very good. ‘Compact’ clearly means ‘useless’. I bought a cheap and sensible one at the market, except the only colour they had was pink. I’ve also been to Tacloban to buy a new mattress as my cough was getting worse and I thought some new bedding might help. There’s not a lot of room at Joe’s and his two brothers have come from Mindanao (the island to the south of Leyte) to start fixing the roof so every morning to keep out of the way I pack up the bed and the mosquito net and put my stuff back in my bags. I’ve been to Tacloban a few times now. It’s noisy, chaotic and unfamiliar. Each trip gets a little easier but in this new environment even the simplest task becomes time-consuming. Every day I’m exhausted but have little to show for it. I’m trying to relax and remember that it’s ok.
Being ill and culturally out of my depth doesn’t make me feel like much of a missionary. Jovi has a problem with her feet and we prayed with her but there was no immediate miracle and frankly I didn’t have the faith for one. Her prayers seem more faith-filled than mine and I’m wondering if I’ve really got what it takes, even the right to be here and bring what I thought God said to me in England. There are Christians here with more in the bank than I have right now. I feel like I have to start from scratch here, not hitting the ground running but dig new foundations, even for myself. I’m wondering if eight months will be enough time…