19/12/2025
Episode 3: The Event
Morning came cold and wet. Rain lingered in the air, and the mountains were draped in a thick fog, creating an incredible view—something you don’t see every day. After sleepless nights, the experience itself felt even more unforgettable. Yet, as always, coffee came first. The morning brew—simple but powerful—gave us the strength to move, focus, and continue despite the exhaustion.
Communication remained a challenge. Once the advance team crossed the river, there was no signal—no updates on what was happening beyond. All we could do was trust the team on the ground and prepare from our side.
With the help of Barangay Amatugan, our supplies were loaded—carefully and collectively. Goods were transferred from one vehicle to another, leaving one behind, as advised by the Jimny group. The road to Amatugan was already difficult under normal conditions; months of continuous rain had made it even more unforgiving. Only the most capable vehicles could proceed.
Still, we moved forward.
Papa Pey, driving the Estrada pickup, was confidently told by Chabs that the road ahead was “easy ra paps, naa ray duha ra ka gamay nga dan semento.” Haha, what followed was anything but easy. The trail was clearly meant for a 4x4: thick mud, steep climbs, and slippery stretches that tested both driver and vehicle. Mud splashed, tires spun, and everyone held their breath—or laughed nervously. Still, Papa Pey and the Estrada soldiered on, and somehow, miraculously, they reached the Amatugan community. How to get back? Unya nana problemahon, ang importante, the mission mattered more.
Meanwhile, the Jimny group, mekatawa raman ang driver, miraculously survived the unprecedented trail to Amatugan, conquering mud, steep climbs, and slippery paths that tested both vehicle and driver. haha
Together with the parents, teachers, and barangay volunteers, we unloaded everything—gifts, supplies, and equipment. Hand in hand, shoulder to shoulder, we carried our cargo, hiked through the trails, and bravely crossed the mighty Tuburan River.
The river was still brown, but calmer than it had been the night before. By morning, the water had dropped to knee-deep—unlike the previous night and early dawn when it had risen almost to our waists. The crossing remained demanding, but it was finally possible and to get to the school, all students, teachers and workers had to cross the river from both sides—a daily journey that made the river both a challenge and a part of their lives.
As we followed the trail beyond the river, something shifted.
Children began to appear—smiling, curious, excited. Their laughter echoed along the path, cutting through our fatigue. Amatugan slowly revealed itself: a beautiful and unique place embraced by a winding river, flowing both in front of and behind the school. Remote, peaceful, and alive.
We arrived at the school close to 11:00 AM—later than planned, with much still left to do.
There was no time to complain.
The team doubled its efforts. Decorations were rushed but heartfelt. A short meeting followed, and the decision was made to shorten the program. For the first time since we started AGOY in 2014, the 5Ps by AGOY program would not run in full. Safety came first—we could not risk crossing the river after nightfall.
The kitchen team, led by Daya, Christian and Yoyo Eds together with the volunteers (parents), moved quickly. Hanging rice was cooked. Vegetables were chopped. Kuya Eds handled the seasoning of the lechon, even though it was already noon and roasting had yet to begin. Time worked against us, but effort never slowed.
Despite the rush, the school came alive.
Smoke rose from large pots. Conversations and laughter filled the air, mixing with the lively beats of Christmas music playing in the background. The lechon team worked with smiles and focus, flipping and basting with practiced ease. Children ran freely, their laughter echoing along the school grounds, while parents gathered—well-dressed and cheerful, porma kayo murag mangadtog diskoral, as if attending a celebration far grander than we had imagined. The scene was chaotic, warm, and full of life—the kind of organized mess only AGOY could pull off.
Then the rain returned.
Formations were halted, and everyone moved into the classrooms. There was no other choice. AGOY had to continue—rain or shine.
And so, AGOY 12 officially began.
Games were shortened, but joy remained. Laughter echoed through the classrooms. Snacks were served first while the main meal—lechon and pancit—was still being prepared. The familiar cheesy spaghetti once again saved the day with new addition: hotdog with buns, filling not only the students but also the volunteers, parents, and teachers.
Despite the limited time, we still managed to present activities that brought joy to everyone. Then came the gift-giving. Every student received a present—no one was left out. From school bags, slippers, and school supplies to hygiene kits, dental kits, sardines, toys, loots bags, tumblers, prizes for the AGOY winners and more, each item was chosen to bring both practical support and happiness. Smiles lit up the classrooms, laughter filled the air, and even the volunteers and teachers felt the warmth of the moment.
What mattered most was clear—those happy, shining faces.
The program may have been brief, but its meaning was complete. Beyond gifts and food, we delivered what AGOY truly stands for—the 5Ps: Pahiyom, Pangandoy, Pagdasig, Paglaum, and Padayon.
We hope the children will remember not just what they received, but how they felt—and why 5Ps by AGOY came.
From nights filled with kulba to a day filled with smiles, the difficult decisions led to something beautiful. Not only for the students, parents, teachers, and the community—but for us.
We did not choose the easy path.
We chose the meaningful one.
To be continued…
The next struggle: finding our way home.
