"As the initial fear began to wane, we tried to take an interest in the people around us."

The story of a couple kidnapped in 2001 at Las Palmas Resort on the island of Palawan in the Philippines.

We hit the international headlines last year with 18 other people when we were taken hostage by the Abu Sayyaf, a group of Muslims proclaim­ing themselves to be fundamentalists. Wanting to take a few days off from a very hectic schedule to try and "re­charge" our batteries, instead we be­gan an experience of terror— awaking to the crashing sound of our door being broken down and staring down the barrel of a gun pointed at us by a masked man, getting up from bed clad only in night clothes, being led to a motorboat for a wild ride into the sea for the next 13 hours... to a destination no one had any inkling of. It was so surreal... A few days be­fore, we had been reading about a raid on a Mindanao resort that had been thwarted by alert security men. But we were not in Mindanao! Palawan was an island belonging to Luzon and so far away from the hot­bed of Muslim rebellion!

However, from the start of the kid­napping, we thought of God and en­trusted to Him ourselves, as well as everything else we had left behind— our five children, the sensitive rural banking business we were in, our relatives and friends. The business was part of the Economy of Com­munion and we had always consid­ered it "His enterprise." So we told Him that it was now literally up to Him to take care of it, as we were sure panic was going to ensue when the largely rural clientele heard of our abduction.

Apart from that, we were sure the larger family we had fostered in the bank would close ranks, find strength in each other, and manage to weather the crisis. After those initial moments of prayer and offering everything to Him, we put all else behind us and tried to live each moment before us as well as we could.

We spent the next four nights and five days out at sea, having trans­ferred from the motorboat to a fish­ing boat at the end of the first day, where we idled the time away, sur­rounded by the vast waters of the Sulu deep and nothing else. As the initial fear began to wane, we tried to take an interest in the people around us—whether they were fellow hos­tages, fishermen whose boat had been commandeered by the terrorists, or even our captors themselves. We found some of them quite talkative, responding enthusiastically to our questions. "Why are you doing this?" "Because it's the only way to grab the attention of your government and make it listen to our demands for an independent Muslim state in Basilan and Sulu."

Because we hostages were all Christians of different denominations, some of them took the opportunity to engage us in conversations about the differences between Christianity and Islam. Once, we said, "Why don't we concentrate on our common points instead of our differences? Your Al­lah is God the Father for us. We are all children of one Father. Why are we killing each other?" Surprisingly, the terrorist we were talking with did not react violently and instead, gave us a crooked smile.

Francis and Tess Ganzon. "It was an experience that left its mark on us for life. But more than being overcome by a traumatic ordeal, we came out with a sense of mission...

...that within our own limited possibilities, we had to do something to help bridge the gap between our Muslim brothers in the South and the largely Christian-Filipino population spread throughout Luzon and the Visayas."

Upon landing in Basilan, an is­land at (lie southernmost tip of the Philippines, we began trekking up to the mountain lair of the Abu Sayyaf—sleeping on the jungle floor, sometimes pursued by bullets of our own military that had begun engaging the kidnap group in battle, constantly on the move and losing track of time-the days and weeks.

But there were moments of rest and in those moments, the dialogue with our captors continued. In spite of physical hardships and the terror of military encounters, it became pos­sible to build an almost personal re­lationship with some of them—like with an old man, veteran of the Mus­lim rebellion for the past 30 years, who was still without a roof over his head to call home.

Then there was the cook, weaving in and out as our group lay on the floor in the middle of one particularly heavy military encounter. We were all praying and terrified that at any mo­ment, a bomb could have fallen and ended our lives. But there he was, saying "Excuse me! Excuse me!" as he tip-toed in between our bodies, making his way from one end of the corridor to the other, armalite in hand.

All together, it was a 3-week ex­perience that left its mark on us for life. But more than being overcome by a traumatic ordeal, we came out with a sense of mission—that within our own limited possibilities, we had to do something to help bridge the gap between our Muslim brothers in the South and the largely Christian-Filipino population spread throughout Luzon and the Visayas.

The encounter opened our eyes to the poverty existing in Basilan and the extremes to which people were driven in order to survive. We re­solved to get to know the Mindanao problem deeper, reading up on the history of the conflict, and seeking to find an authentic solution for the very complex situation that had already arisen from centuries of non-resolu­tion. With the experience of building personal bridges even with so-called terrorists, we felt that we could con­tinue to do so with other Muslims, even if our effort would be as a mere drop in the bucket in the national ef­fort to find lasting peace.

"We agreed to undertake the project, involving our senior management staff in the preparation of the three-day training program.
It was a gradual widening of horizons and mentality, an answer to our desire to build bridges among Christians and Muslims, as well as to form part of an economic solution to the underdevelopment that still plagues much of Muslim Mindanao."

We didn't know what to do or how to go about realizing this desire, but we decided to be open to what­ever opportunities came our way.

Then once, we had a training pro­gram for microfinance account offic­ers in the rural bank, with the services of a consultant who would do an in-house program for our staff. We in­vited two Muslim leaders from Mindanao cooperatives whose ac­quaintance we had made through a friend. They came to stay with us at home and attended the training pro­gram, which included staff who were much younger than them. They even gamely joined group exercises and were able to observe womens' microfinance groups that we visited.

In the evenings, after dinner, we would talk more about Mindanao: the island's cultural background and its history of betrayals and corruption (both by Christian and Muslim lead­ers) which made the peace desired by all as elusive as ever. We exchanged views and agreed that economic de­velopment would go a long-way to­ward eliminating some of the causes of rebellion, war and kidnapping prevalent in some parts of Mindanao.

At the end of two weeks, we had formed a strong bond of friendship and continued our contact through text, greeting each other warmly both on Eid ul Fitr (end of Ramadan) or Christmas. We met their other family members whom we invited to dinner at home. and our children exchanged communications with them as well.

A few months back, for a one-day Focolare meeting in Tagaytay. we in­vited one of them who was in Manila with his wife. They were both touched while listening to a Muslim girl share how she had found it pos­sible to live the Ideal of unity with a large group of Christians. Later they brought their entire family (three chil­dren) to the four-day Mariapolis two months later and have since main­tained close lies, not only with us, but with the larger extended family of the Focolare!

Last April, someone from a USAID program aimed at helping Mindanao contacted us and explained that one of their program components was to help strengthen rural banks in the Autonomous Region of Muslim Mindanao (ARMM) so they could ef­fectively extend credit to farmers and small merchants in their areas. Could we help out in the program? It would initially involve hosting senior man­agement (Board of Directors and Managers) of three rural banks in the area for three days and preparing a comprehensive program to share gov­ernance and management principles of banking, operational concerns, microfinance programs, etc. USAID would shoulder the costs of the train­ing. while we were tasked with pre­paring the materials, assigning the speakers from among our senior man­agement, etc.

We thought that this was an an­swer to our desire to build bridges among Christians and Muslims, as well as to form part of an economic solution to the underdevelopmcnt that still plagues much of Muslim Mindanao. We agreed to undertake the project, involving our senior man­agement staff in the preparation of the three days training program. Among other things, these continued interac­tions also exposed our staff and col­leagues at work to brothers of a different faith—an opportunity denied most people of Luzon who must make do with their very limited and often biased impressions of Muslims, gathered from newspaper accounts of kidnappings, rebellion and war in Mindanao.

It was a gradual widening of hori­zons and mentality as our staff inter­acted with the participants at meal times and during off hours. (Not all of these were Muslims but they were all operating within predominantly Muslim communities).

After an intense week of prepa­ration and the actual three-day bank exposure program, we concluded, having built relationships we hope will carry on into the future. We have also been invited to visit their areas of operation and have signified our willingness to do so, as well as to host whoever of their staff might need further on-hands training in our rural bank.

The young men of one particular bank jokingly—but sincerely—as­sured us that they would guarantee our safe return home, offering to pick us up all the way from Luzon and personally escort us back. We assured them we trusted them with our safe return and that we were merely wait­ing for the right occasion to visit them in Mindanao.

During one break, we also had the opportunity to encourage another young man to take up his Arabic studies once again, upon our realizing it was very important to the deepen­ing of their Islamic faith. Then we parted ways exchanging greetings in Arabic... Wassalamo alaikom warahmatullah (May peace be with you!). The reply came back promptly... Alaikomissalam (And peace be with you too!).

Taken from New City Magazine, October/November 2002 issue, Vol. 37, No. 10-11