Life goes on . . .

It's true. Life really does go on. No matter how many tragedies happen around us, the world continues to survive and even thrive. And so it is. We are survivors.

I have been in Cebu City for the past two weeks being a facilitator at an English Language Camp for 137 teachers from Mindanao. The experience has been really wonderful, despite the difficulties. I came here wondering if I would be able to focus on the tasks at hand, given all that had been happening prior to the camp.

However, coming here turned out to be a great decision. The participants were so enthusiastic and involved in our classes that I really fed off their energy. An additional perk was that two weeks was long enough to really get to know a lot of them and learn about their lives in Mindanao. We all had a great time.

Unfortunately, we did experience a great loss during the course of the camp. One of the participants, a 41 year old woman, died. She started coughing one night and couldn't breathe. She went to the hospital about 3 am. They discovered that she had fluid in her lungs but were unable to remove it because her heart was too weak. She died of heart failure. So sad. She was a beautiful Muslim woman with five children. She and her family lived in Tawi Tawi, Mindanao. The participants from her region organized a memorial service; so yesterday we had a tribute ceremony for her after the closing ceremony for the camp.

Today, we are trickling out. Some of the participants left Cebu last night, some this morning. I will fly out around 4 this afternoon. Some will leave tomorrow. We all have places to go and things to do.

I will be flying back to Manila where I will spend the next week. I have medical and dental exams to undergo before I am free to leave the country. Also, I will be seeing and saying farewell to several of my batchmates.

So many goodbyes. So many "last times". Emotionally, it's tough. Even though I know that with every goodbye there is a new beginning. . . the goodbyes still sting. As well they should. If it didn't hurt to leave my fellow pcvs, then it would probably be because we never bonded. But that's certainly not the case. I think we have all been each other's 'life support' at one time or another during the past two years. And we all know that we will never pass this way . . in this way . . again. And so it stings for a short time.

And then we move on to the next stage of our lives. We come home. We reunite. We readjust. We reintegrate. And we begin again. We begin anew . . .

Life.
It goes on.