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AFTER a crash course on what to do in the event that
I heard gun fire outside my sleeping quarters, I was ready to spend
my first night at an army battalion camp. An armored fighting
vehicle was moved in position in front of the cottage. We were
underneath tall coconut trees, but no coconut is going to fall
through this roof, unlike what happened to one of the other huts, my
host assured me. Big, winged insects that looked like bees were
buzzing around the electric bulbs. Once the lights were turned off,
the insects disappeared and only the distant sounds of the village
reached the cottage. Despite being in the lowlands, not far from the
coast, this corner of Compostela Valley was cool. The gentle evening
breeze ensured one a comfortable sleep.
Alright, there were some sounds
unusual to ears tuned to the sounds of a city that had awakened me
from time to time, like the hourly clanging by the guards on duty.
They startled me more than once.
Finding myself in a military camp in
the countryside, I thanked myself for not having installed a water
heater in my house—I’m as used to a cold shower as any soldier.
And here in the coconut farm-cum-camp I was in for an esthetic
treat: The designer-floor of the tiny bathroom made a shower more
than your typical rural shower experience. Dark-green ceramic tiles
were laid out in the center portion of the floor while black and
grey pebbles lined the sides and the space in between the tiles.
The regular occupant of the
cottage—voluntarily “displaced” by 2nd Lt. Menchie Amor Maga
(my charming female escort) and me - is in fact an architect. Maj.
Rolando Rodil, commanding officer of the 25th Infantry Battalion,
10th Infantry Division, Philippine Army, passed the board exam in
architecture before he, as a reservist, was called to active
service.
Last Feb. 17 2008, after 24 hours of
pursuit through the coastal municipalities of Compostela Valley and
into the neighboring Province of Davao Oriental, Maj. Rodil and his
battalion succeeded in capturing suspected Jemaah Islamiyah
terrorist Mohammad Baenakki a.k.a. Salman or Latif. Many times
contact was lost and they almost gave up. The target was moving fast
and far. But finally in the early morning of February 17, this
longest day of Maj. Rodil’s stint as battalion commander came to
an end with the successful capture of the suspected Indonesian
terrorist.
But this was not the reason
for my interest in Maj. Rodil and his battalion. Rather, it was
their focus on community development. Through his own personal
initiative, and supported by his well-motivated men, Maj. Rodil has
facilitated book donations to a number of schools in his area of
responsibility. Wells have been set up in several barangays. Soccer
teams and karate classes have been organized. The battalion joins in
mangrove and tree planting activities. Kids of poor families have
been given school supplies and educational assistance. But most
importantly, Maj. Rodil’s ears and heart are always open to the
concerns of the local folk, whatever their status in the community,
whatever their problems. On my last evening in the camp, the
New People’s Army guerillas walked into the Apex Mining
Company’s premises and seized the company’s firearms. Heavy
equipment worth millions of pesos was burned. Reality had caught up
with us—the NPA is after all the main reason why the army
maintains two battalions in Compostela Valley. Maj. Rodil left for
Apex. I decided to return to Davao City.
During my short stay in Compostela
Valley I had visited schools, met barangay officials, shopped at the
agri fair, chatted with the provincial governor, joined a boodle
fight, visited a banana plantation, and feasted on pancit and native
chicken soup, sipped coffee late night on a beach. What more could
any visitor possibly ask? Yet, I was sad as the car left the camp
and I waved goodbye to the soldiers. The days had been intense, and
suddenly it was over. I was heading back to the big city, the malls
and the coffee shops. But the impressions will live on forever—for
the simple reason that the soul of this country is found not in the
cities, but in places like Compostela Valley, in the mountains and
rice fields, in the gentle waves of the sea and in the rain falling
on the coconut trees.
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