This is not a love story between Lenard and Joanna. Rather, it is a story about their love for B’laan children from Blat, Kiamba.

 

Every Monday morning, Lenard and Joanna leave their homes in General Santos City to teach in Blat.  Their school is up on the mountains and they have to bring with them their one-week supply of food, medicine, clothes, and school supplies. It will take them another week to see their family again. 

 

Joanna’s son Jaz is six-months old and is left under the care of her sister-in-law during weekdays.  Sometimes, Jaz takes time to warm up to her when she comes home during weekends.  Lenards’ daughter, Denise, is two-month’s old.  Her wife, who is also a teacher, has to leave Denise as soon as she resumes her work in another school in a faraway village.

 

There are 81 children in Blat Elementary School with only two teachers.  Joanna handles the students who are in Grades One, Two, and Three.  Lenard handles those who are in Grades Four, Five, and Six.  Joanna used to cluster the children into sessions, e.g. Grade One children were taught in the morning, and Grade Two children were taught in the afternoon.

 

But no children came in the afternoon.  They joined their parents in clearing the land, planting corn, and harvesting camotes (sweet potatoes). So, she meets them all in the morning and groups them according to grade level. Lenard does the same.  How they are able to deal with six grade levels in a cramped classroom blows my mind away. 

 

Lenard constantly counsels the parents to allow their children to attend school in the afternoon. But he has to compete with their need for food and livelihood, and often times, he loses. His battle is often harder in influencing parents to send the boys to school.  Boys are stronger and more useful in the farms.

 

Lenard’s face is so sad as we sat down to talk. I asked him if it is because he misses his family every day especially in the evening. His face grew sadder.

 

He cannot even read a book or prepare his lesson plans in the evening. There is no electricity in the village and they have to get by with the light of a candle or an alcohol lamp.  He can send text messages to his wife, but can only do so until Tuesday, because the battery in his cell phone runs dry.  There is also no water in the village and the nearest spring is about an hour away.  Lenard’s Grade Six school children help him fetch water everyday but they can only carry a gallon full.

 

Joanna brings her own supply of purified water from the town because she had amoebiasis.  But she can only carry a maximum of 6 liters. Thus, she has to be efficient in rationing water for her many needs.  She lives in a hut that was constructed for her by the parents. They insisted that the hut be in the center of the village so that they can keep an eye on her. 

 

I asked Joanna what keeps her going.  She recalled that her childhood dream was to be a teacher. Her face lit up as she recited the poem “To be a Filipino” which she asks her pupils to constantly read. She draws her inspiration from the poem as she reaffirms that being Filipino is enabling the B’laan children to learn well. Her eyes welled with tears as she remembered the challenges she faces. 

 

The children have no paper or pencils. She used to devote her salary for school supplies but she now has to use her money for milk and needs of her baby.  With a tinge of guilt, her tears started falling down as she recalls that her Grade One children have to contend with pencils that were used by her former Grade One students. The pencils are so short and the children’s fingers are not big enough to hold them. Joanna’s tears came with the tears of her principal, Ms. Angelina, and also with mine. 

 

Ms. Angelina is the cluster head of three schools. She was ever so embarrassed that the NAT scores of Blat children were the lowest in the province.  The children’s average was only 20 percent, which means they can only answer two out of 10 questions correctly.  She was also so upset that Lenard and Joanna did not submit reports on time.  She called them on their cell phones, but there was no response. So, she sent a message to the two of them to report to her office to give them a reprimand.

 

Lenard listened to her with a stoic expression.  But Joanna was unable to contain her tears.  The session turned out to be a crying session. The next month, Ms. Angelina went to visit the Blat school carrying with her “10 lechon manok (grilled chicken)” as her share in the village’ celebration of the new school building that the provincial government constructed.

 

Ms. Angelina scolded Joanna again, but for a different reason. Joanna was in labor but insisted on helping Lenard.  Ms. Angelina sent her to the hospital and took her place.  Since then, the principal has become a mentor, a principal, and a mother.

 

I had a box of crayons, paper, Pentel pen, and scissors that Synergeia used for a teachers’ workshop in their school. I turned them over to Ms. Angelina who gave them to Lenard and Joanna.  Lenard hugged the box and Joanna hugged me.

 

It was as if I gave them a treasure. It was my turn to feel guilty for being unable to appreciate so many things in life and for splurging on things that catch my fancy.

 

Later in the day, Governor Migs Dominguez gave them more hope as he promised to build a water supply system and devise means to supply the village with electricity.  I saw Lenard smile for the first time.  Joanna said that the scores of the children went up to 30 percent last year.  With the help of the governor, the three of them will be able to move mountains.