Brgy. San Ildefonso

Even when we arrived in Aurora, there were still some last-minute changes to the itinerary. Noel coordinated with Teacher Ed, who helped with the outreach.

Before heading to Barangay Cozo, where the school is located, we first stopped by Sitio Niyog in Barangay San Ildefonso, Casiguran, to distribute gifts and check on the progress of the classroom we were helping build.

Sitio Niyog is a Dumagat settlement. While the Dumagats were once nomadic, many now live in permanent communities. It sits in the San Ildefonso Peninsula, surrounded by the Sierra Madre Mountains and Casiguran Bay.

A problem with one of our hired boats set us back another 30 minutes, requiring us to return to Dinalungan to switch boats. The worry on our boatman’s face made me even more grateful that we arrived safely.

I barely had time to dry my clothes before the program began. It had been a rough one-hour boat ride from Dinalungan, Aurora, to the sitio. 

From the boat, we saw small houses perched on the hills, with the mountains rising behind them and the gray sand stretching toward the sea.

When we reached the shore, the first team had already set up the donation boxes, so we immediately started the program. Thankfully, I had managed to sleep during the ten-hour journey from Manila to Dinalungan, despite the rough roads.

The children were already wearing the shirts donated by Perfect White Shirt. I noticed Mary Rose, who looked adorable in her white shirt printed with Little Miss Doctor. I asked her about her dream, but she just bowed her head and smiled.

I was reminded of an African proverb: "Educate a boy, and you educate an individual. Educate a girl, and you educate a community."

Mary Rose is a student from Cozo, the school we first visited in May 1998. It was our next destination, about an hour away by boat and more by foot.

We held the program in front of the tribal hall, which was being used as a classroom.

We brought school supplies including notebooks, pencils, sharpeners, and other essentials donated by friends and volunteers, along with two kilos of rice and some canned goods for each family.

As the children assembled in front of the tribal hall, their parents watched from the sides.

Noel led the program, introducing our group and our mission. Teacher Analyn welcomed us and introduced the students, who then sang a song about the importance of education for indigenous children.

Their song spoke of their heritage, their land, and the painful reality of others claiming the land of their ancestors.

My heart went out to the Dumagats.

I have been asked many times whether we consider the impact we have on the communities we visit. As travelers, we want places preserved, and we are concerned about indigenous people being displaced from their ancestral lands. But what happens when there is no more ancestral land to return to and when educated men claim it for themselves?

It’s a complex issue, but after hearing that song, I felt even more strongly that we must help educate our indigenous brothers and sisters. At the very least, they should be equipped to defend themselves and fight for their rights.

During the program, we asked who the oldest Dumagat in the community was, but no one could answer. They didn’t know their ages or birthdates and only that they had lived there as long as they could remember, on land passed down through generations.

After the program and the distribution of donations, Teacher Liza showed me where they stored the construction materials we had donated. I had promised our donor, Ms. Anna Maramba, a full report, so I asked what would happen to the school if the land was taken.

Oyu Jaojoco, Frankie’s officemate, who had helped gather donations for the school, was also with us.

Thankfully, Kagawad Oliver, who attended our program, had donated a portion of his land for the school. He assured us that the donations wouldn’t be affected by the ongoing land dispute, which only strengthened my resolve to continue supporting the Dumagat community.

That day ended with a breathtaking sunset. After enjoying a meal of freshwater shrimp, lapu-lapu, and root crops prepared by the school, we set up our tents and headed to the river to freshen up.

That night, as we gazed at a sky carpeted with stars and trees glowing with fireflies, we all agreed that we would return this Holy Week, hopefully with more construction materials and volunteers.

Change of Plans

We decided to leave San Ildefonso the next morning when the sea would be calmer.

That night was chilly, and we woke early for breakfast.

We planned to leave by 9:00 AM, just enough time to travel to Dinalungan, then Casiguran, with another banca ride to Barangay Cozo. We hadn’t yet decided whether to trek to the school or meet the students at the community center.

The sea was calm that morning, and we didn’t expect anything to go wrong. Then, one of the bancas capsized.

I remember Joseph Cruz mumbling something, and when we looked, the boat had already overturned. Joseph was supposed to be on that banca, and he couldn’t swim. He was noticeably shaken when he moved to the back of our boat.

The boat carried Ailene Mae, Frankie, sisters May and Ponga Jadulco, and Ramon James Dizon.

We were helpless. Our boatman warned us not to move. Except for Noel, who was allowed to swim to help, we could only sit, watch, and pray.

Thankfully, everyone was safe. Most of our belongings were recovered, except for a few damaged phones.

We all know the risks that come with this kind of work, but we also believe in the power of goodness and God’s grace to protect us.

In the end, we decided to turn over the supplies and additional funds for the school's construction to the teachers, allowing our participants to rest.

We left with the same commitment we had from the start—to keep coming back, to keep supporting, and to keep standing with our indigenous brothers and sisters.