Leaving Home

It was a very sad day when we slowly drove away from the white house in Michigan where I had lived almost all of my thirteen years of life to go to the airport. We were going to be missionaries in the Philippines for two years. (In case you don’t know what the Philippines is, it is an Asian country made of 7,107 islands. It is north of Australia.) Not visiting, not vacationing, moving! This was frightening to me since I had never moved before. I had planned on living in our house all my life. Visit other places? Yes! Move? NO! I had decided that I would visit lots of different countries especially Korea, Kenya, and Brazil (the countries that have always interested me but I haven’t gone to yet). Then I would always return to Michigan, United States of America. Besides, two years is a very long time. I wouldn’t have minded two days or two weeks or two months; in fact, I had already spent two months in the Philippines. But two years? That was too long as far as I was concerned.

I was frightened and sad about the move. I loved the Philippines, but I loved Michigan, U.S.A. too. I loved the seasons, especially winter. I loved our home and our yard. I loved my room which my daddy had transformed into a butterfly garden by painting it yellow with butterflies and wildflowers on the walls. I liked my garden which was somewhat a miracle the way it survived with very little help and how mysterious but beautiful plants appeared in it from nowhere. There was even a nest of cheerful robins in the tree near our driveway. I was sad I would miss seeing the baby robins grow up. The worst thing was that our family who at most had been a half-hour away would now be half-way around the world. I think though that the biggest reasons I disliked the move were that I hated change and I disliked not knowing what was going to happen. Moving to a third world country is a big change and we did not know what we would do next after the two years were over.

It was a beautiful sunny day despite how sad it was. There were some flowers in my garden and the two maple trees were holding tightly to their green seeds. The sky was as blue as I was.

In the Philippines, when someone is leaving for a long time or for good, they give and are given small gifts called “remembrances”. I had nothing to give to the U.S. but I wanted something to remember her by. Then I thought that I had never seen maple trees in the Philippines. Soon I had a pocketful of the helicopter seeds. The maple trees in our front yard were rather stingy since it was only late May so I had to tug a little. I decided I would keep those seeds as my remembrance.

We piled into our silver Honda van. We kids were singing all the patriotic songs we knew and saying good-bye to everything. Once I said, “I am going to write down everything you say.” By then we had run out of songs and nobody really said anything. I guess they all wanted quiet to think and sort out their feelings. I was glad and sad about that. I wanted to sort out my feelings but I didn’t want to think about leaving anymore.

When we arrived at the airport, we saw that most of our friends and family were there. The airport looked like a black and white photograph. It was dim, quiet, and rather empty because it is a small airport. We were basically all the people in sight there. We hugged and cried and waited. We were given different remembrances: a yellow lock, coloring and puzzle books. We were also given letters and envelopes to open when we got on the airplane.

Then I had to go through security, where my friends and relatives couldn’t go. I was crying so hard I couldn’t see. I almost turned around and ran back. I don’t know why I didn’t but I kept on. When I got on the airplane, a feeling of peace and excitement settled over me. This was going to be an adventure!

I settled into my seat. I read the letters and opened the envelopes. I was still a little sad about leaving but now I was excited about going. I think one of the saddest things in the world is a good-bye. The good thing about it, though, is that a good-bye is always followed by a hello.

I have since settled into our small, isolated city of Bontoc, Mountain Province. I love it here. I can’t imagine how I could ever leave. I now say “This is my home. Here is where I belong.” That is what I believe is true, at least for now. I have some good friends here who make me laugh. We talk to our family on Skype almost every week. I love the rice paddies and the mountains. I love the food: rice, papayas, mangos, bananas and chicken adobo (chicken and potatoes cooked in a yummy sauce). I love that our landlady has chickens and ducks that we can watch. I like the ducks the best even though they are afraid of water. We weren’t allowed to have farm animals in the U.S.A. because we lived in a subdivision. Bontoc isn’t a lot like the U.S.A. The nearest mall is eight hours away and we don’t always have water. I don’t care; I have never liked going shopping anyway. It is not the mountains around Bontoc that look like they have been cut out of green construction paper and glued to the sky that make it beautiful, it is the people. It is how friendly and kind the people generally are that made me love the Philippines in the first place and they are the reason I will continue to love it.

Adriana