Part III - Clinic Days - Dawn

     Darkness turned to gray and the little groves of guava trees planted in front of the clinic began to take shape.  The night sounds faded into the many voices of the morning, birds chirping, roosters cocking, and a little bug I like to call the jungle's alarm clock added its own wail to the chorus.  It was an exceptionally humid morning after the typhoon rains swept through.  Emerging unto the front porch I breathed in the clear mountain air thankful it was morning and the long night was over.
    At the first hint of light Bisita had headed home.  She was afraid of the evil spirits the Palawanos always associate with the dead.  They believe the spirit of the deceased comes back to haunt the place where it separated from the body.  Our other three in-patients were still very sick, otherwise, they probably would have left too.  The pressures of the workload that day quickly began to build as patients started lining the porch waiting to be seen.
   Two o'clock.  It was time for the funeral.  Those who were going to come were there.   It was a group of about twenty comprised of missionaries, relatives, and close friends of the family.  Maman, before he died had requested a Christian burial.  He was lowered into hte ground wrapped in a white sheet.  Flowers were thrown down to him and last words were spoken.  One of his brothers pleaded that he would not come back to bother him, but would leave him alone.  The missionaries and other Christians sang Christian songs and Pastor gave a small service.  After all was done sections of bamboo about 2 feet long were placed at an angle just above the body to prevent dirt from falling on it.  The men replaced the dirt they had dug out and it was finished.
      Dreariness clung to my soul like the humidity to my skin.  My thoughts wandered.  Are the three girls going to share a similar fate as Maman?  Discouragement was threatening an invasion.  Drums calling to evil spirits rumbled ominously in the distance, and the choking cough was still as strong as ever.  For days we continued treatment with no real effect, but eventually their bodies did respond.  Before we knew it the hour for them to return home had come.  After helping them get their last few things together and the medicine they would need at home we sent them off.
      My highest emotion was relief.  Coming down with a chest cold of my own after all the sleepless nights and busy days my body craved a rest.  As the family of six filed around the corner of the clinic each one paused just a moment to make eye contact.  Their smiles though small brought a cheeriness to my soul.  Although I was glad to get a full nights rest again I would miss them.  Their smiles were my reward, and by the end of the three week marathon I realized it had all been worth it.