A recent work trip found me passing through the town of Aborlan in Palawan. I have very fond memories of Aborlan. It was at Aborlan that I had my first taste of marang. It was also at Aborlan that I started smiling once again.

It was July 2019. My father had passed away a few months before, and there was a call to volunteer for an international medical mission in Palawan. Operation Smile was flying in 50 health professionals from across the globe to treat 100 patients with cleft palate in Aborlan, roughly an hour away from Puerto Princesa.

At the time, I just wanted to go away. A few weeks before that, I had gone up the mountains of Sagada. Spending a few days in the middle of nowhere seemed perfect.

As media volunteer, my task was to document the events of the five-day medical mission, with some 23 procedures to be done every single day. You see, about 5,000 Filipinos are born with oral cleft every year. While the condition could be corrected with a 45-minute procedure, it costs anywhere from P50,000 to P100,000; a sum the poorest of the poor could ill afford.

I talked to a lot of people, from patients and their parents to doctors and nurses. I was able to chat with the lady who prepared the meals, too! My father had been sick for quite some time, and for the last few months of his life, we were almost always at the hospital. It was refreshing then to be at a health facility so full of hope and cheer, instead of frustration and desperation.

Sitti Nurbaya Jalmaani was one of the patients I sat down with (the girl in stripes). A pretty lass, she was one of eight siblings, the only one born with a cleft palate. Sitti went to school like her siblings, but eventually dropped out as she was constantly teased and bullied.

When her family learned of the medical mission, they took a 13-hour boat ride from Cagayan de Tawi Tawi, where they lived, to Palawan.

Her smile is the sweetest, don’t you agree?

Across Palawan, from Balabac and Bataraza to Narra, Quezon, and San Vicente, parents, mostly mothers, with babies, children, and teenagers in tow, made the trip from their home to Aborlan. Some of them only traveled for a couple of hours; others took days.

Jaylane Librando brought her then 16-month-old son Ercam to from Espanola, four hours away.

Leony Racoma, from San Vicente, some four hours away, was then 29 years old. Although she was able to have reconstructive surgery when she was 10 years old, post-care instructions given by health professionals were not followed. She was given another opportunity to have reconstructive surgery.

Children with cleft palate are subjected to more than teasing and bullying. Some have difficulty eating, others experience delays in speech and language development. Still others suffer from ear infections.

It’s no wonder that patients and their parents did not let the distance deter them from getting to Aborlan.

Distance was not an issue for the volunteers as well; some of them flying halfway across the world.

Asked why she volunteered to perform surgery for some eight hours a day for five days in the middle of nowhere, one of the plastic surgeons happily said, “Why not?”

The volunteers included plastic surgeons, anesthesiologists, pediatricians, dentists, nurses, and speech therapists; with most of them veterans of other medical missions.

Genevieve from the United States has volunteered for 30 missions in three years; she basically spends her vacation time on missions. Because the volunteers came from all parts of the globe, they had to get acquainted with the other’s working style. But by the second day, the crew had clicked.

The vibe was so cheerful and light that they had time to celebrate a volunteer’s birthday, bringing out a cake for nurse Renee in the middle of a busy day.

Now when I think of Aborlan, I don’t see a sleepy town in the middle of nowhere. I remember how I played with the kids and joked around with the locals. I saw how professionals of different nationalities and religions worked together towards one goal. I felt how happy everybody was, knowing they were doing something good.

Now when I think of Aborlan, I am grateful for having witnessed a mission unfold and fulfilled, that I got to write about it was an honor.