Some Things About the Philippine Islands
By Elbridge M. Adams
It has been about two months since we came to Manila, and longer still since we left California. A few of our friends have remembered us with good letters. We would like to write to each one personally, but this being impossible, we must write one letter for all. Be sure, however, that a word from any of you will be very acceptable to us. About the second day that we were here, Elder L. V. Finster took me down to the tent that he had just pitched. We drove the stakes for the seats, and fixed the rostrum. We held the first meeting in the new location that night. It would have done you good to see the eager people flock in; the tent was filled to overflowing. The next night, although it rained, the tent was full. That is the way it has been through nearly the whole series, which closed only last Sunday night. Now we are conducting a class of about thirty who are candidates for baptism. To-day the lesson was about jewelry. One good feature is that the same persons come each night. It is not necessary to hurry to the door after meeting, in order to get the people to take tracts; they receive them eagerly. I have seen those handing out tracts hold up their hands to keep the people from taking the tracts away from them. It is very natural that we should be able to see the needs of the field in which we are. But I believe there are vitally important times in the history of a field, and I also believe that now is that time in the Philippines. The church now numbers seventy-five, although it was organized only a year ago this March, with a charter membership of twenty. There are four Sabbath-schools, the smallest of which has a membership of twelve. The young people's work has just been organized. There are two societies, and the young people are taking an active interest in the work. I feel sure that the brethren have done all that they have felt they could for this place. But it makes one's heart sick to see these hungry souls eagerly grasping for the bread of life and having to wait so long because there are so few to give it to them. I wish our brethren at home could get a panoramic view of the foreign fields. I have a feeling that were their vision extended, their purse-strings would loosen. Elder Finster has done exceptionally well, but his hands have been tied. He has had to do nearly all the evangelistic work, and to be the manager and bookkeeper of the mission, besides preparing literature. He has carried too much. And yet what could he do when the crying need was ringing in his ears, with no one to answer the call but himself? There are openings for meetings in other places in this city, besides the openings in adjoining towns. And there are capable young men who need to work, and the work needs them; but how can they do it without support? There are many things in Oriental countries that are new and strange to the Occident. Even in the Philippine Islands, where the progressive hand of the United States has been felt for a few years in the past, one will see not a few strange things and primitive methods. But when it comes to describing these, language seems to fail, or at least to do very poor work. However, there are a few things that we can tell. One thing that seemed very odd to us is the method of turning to the left in passing. The cars and vehicles all pass on the left. The street-cars have a first- and second-class fare. The front seats, usually about four, are reserved for first-class. The first-class fare is twelve centavos, while the second is ten, unless tickets are used, when they are respectively eleven and eight centavos. A centavo is one half the American cent. The peso is the unit of currency. It is worth fifty cents in American money. Hongkong has first- and second-rate fares on the street-cars, while in Japan, on the steam lines, one is obliged to choose from three classes. Shanghai has a system of its own. The passenger, instead of paying so much for a ride to any part of the city, is required to pay so many cents for each section. A section is about two or three blocks long. There are horses, large and small, and mules; but for plowing and for handling freight the natives use the carabao (water-buffalo). The women carry things on their heads, and the men, like the Chinamen, carry two articles suspended from the ends of a pole placed over the shoulder. There are a great many Chinese and Spanish here. Although the Spaniards had control of these islands for many years, Spanish is not the language spoken by the natives. There are about thirty dialects. The one used in Manila is called the Tagalog, while the one spoken in the island where Brother Ashbaugh is canvassing, and where we expect to go as soon as Elder and Mrs. Finster return from their furlough, is the Visayan. Still, as one would suppose, there is much of the Spanish in the vernacular; consequently, a knowledge of the Spanish would be of great assistance in learning the native tongue. It is no more unusual to see the women smoke here than the men. Even little girls smoke. The native people are very sociable, and as sensitive as sociable. Sometimes we hold our meetings at their homes. If it is near meal-time when the service closes, it is difficult to get away without eating. Of course, the hospitality is enjoyed more than the food. Still, well-cooked rice with some eggs and possibly some bread, is not a bad meal. Rice is the chief article of diet in these islands. A great deal of fish is also used.