After I had recovered from jet lag and had adjusted back to a normal routine, I began to consider the importance of the fieldwork we had done in Mindanao. The stories of family homes being burned to the ground, violence, and missed economic opportunities still surround my thoughts. I feel responsible for using the information I collected for something that will make a difference in Mindanao.
Drying rice in front of the mosque
We heard many stories of what life was like in a conflict zone, perceptions about the “other”, as well as the many injustices that different groups have experienced. Each story was unique, although it was told with the same nervous laughter that appeared to be the Mindanaoan way of discussing difficult subjects.
I have a hard time understanding why people would speak to a large group of foreign strangers about their most traumatic or painful moments in their own or their region’s history. I don’t feel like we were an especially warm group, or had any other characteristics that would encourage someone to open up about their past in such a short time. Perhaps it was our professional demeanor that encouraged people to open up? Was it that we asked the right questions? Maybe it was that discussing past was cathartic for them in their own way?