I came across the story of Grace when her photo and a headline went viral across Facebook here in the Philippines. Working as a custodian at the Clark Airport about 90 miles north of Manila, she came across an envelope while she was mopping the floor nearby in the waiting area of the terminal. Since the envelope was unattended and no passengers were nearby, she picked it up. It was open, and inside she found a stack of hundred-dollar bills in American dollars!
At first, Grace thought it was play money since she’d never seen crisp, new $100 bills. But, just in case, she brought the envelope to her supervisor immediately, who confirmed that it was real money. There was $1,000 in the envelope, but no other writing or information to help locate the passenger it belonged to.
Grace was officially commended for doing the right thing with the money. She could have just as easily pocketed the envelope – almost half a year’s salary for her – and not one single person would have known. (To be honest, I’m less than 100% sure I would have done the same thing!)
What makes her story even more remarkable is that Grace is an Aeta (pronounced "eye-ta"), the native indigenous group here in the Philippines with direct ties to the Aborigines in Australia.
At first, Grace thought it was play money since she’d never seen crisp, new $100 bills. But, just in case, she brought the envelope to her supervisor immediately, who confirmed that it was real money. There was $1,000 in the envelope, but no other writing or information to help locate the passenger it belonged to.
Grace was officially commended for doing the right thing with the money. She could have just as easily pocketed the envelope – almost half a year’s salary for her – and not one single person would have known. (To be honest, I’m less than 100% sure I would have done the same thing!)
What makes her story even more remarkable is that Grace is an Aeta (pronounced "eye-ta"), the native indigenous group here in the Philippines with direct ties to the Aborigines in Australia.
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Aetas are noticeable because they don't look like Filipinos but more like Aborigines, with coal-dark skin, tight kinky hair, round black eyes, and even the men are lucky to stand five feet tall. They are totally out of place in modern society yet abandoned and forgotten at the same time: a shadow people.
How the Aetas got to the Philippines still confounds anthropologists. The popular theory is that they came over in hunting parties that migrated across the land bridge extending from Oceania to parts of Southeast Asia. Indigenous tribes with similar characteristics exist along that path, in the Solomon Islands, Fiji, and New Caledonian. Eventually, they walked all the way to the Philippines archipelago through the elongated island of present-day Palawan, around 30,000 years ago.
While that land bridge was covered with rising oceans around 5,000 years ago, the Aetas still inhabit the Philippines. They live in makeshift bamboo huts deep in the jungles or high in the mountains, living off the land.
How the Aetas got to the Philippines still confounds anthropologists. The popular theory is that they came over in hunting parties that migrated across the land bridge extending from Oceania to parts of Southeast Asia. Indigenous tribes with similar characteristics exist along that path, in the Solomon Islands, Fiji, and New Caledonian. Eventually, they walked all the way to the Philippines archipelago through the elongated island of present-day Palawan, around 30,000 years ago.
While that land bridge was covered with rising oceans around 5,000 years ago, the Aetas still inhabit the Philippines. They live in makeshift bamboo huts deep in the jungles or high in the mountains, living off the land.
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When the Spanish colonized (invaded) the Philippines in the 1500s, that isolation and tribalism allowed the Aetas to resist rule. They largely kept their own ways (and bloodlines), although the Spaniards did bestow the “negrito” moniker on their race due to their dark skin color.
Aetas used to scar their bodies as a form of art like tattoos, a ceremony where they were wounded and then made to scar with fire or lime. They also would chip away or filing of their teeth when they were teenagers, and then dying them black soon after.
During the Vietnam war, the largest American naval base outside of the U.S. was established in Subic Bay in the Philippines, strategically close to the Aeta village of Pastolan. There, G.I.s learned jungle survival and warfare skills from an Aeta elder named Manifacio De La Junta Florentino.
Still, to this day, Mr. Florentino teaches a jungle survival course (but now, just for fun) outside of Subic. The walls inside his humble abode are decorated with well wishes, letters, and memorabilia from U.S. soldiers, thanking him for teaching them how to stay alive.
Aetas used to scar their bodies as a form of art like tattoos, a ceremony where they were wounded and then made to scar with fire or lime. They also would chip away or filing of their teeth when they were teenagers, and then dying them black soon after.
During the Vietnam war, the largest American naval base outside of the U.S. was established in Subic Bay in the Philippines, strategically close to the Aeta village of Pastolan. There, G.I.s learned jungle survival and warfare skills from an Aeta elder named Manifacio De La Junta Florentino.
Still, to this day, Mr. Florentino teaches a jungle survival course (but now, just for fun) outside of Subic. The walls inside his humble abode are decorated with well wishes, letters, and memorabilia from U.S. soldiers, thanking him for teaching them how to stay alive.
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By the 1990s, the vast majority of Aeta in the Philippines were living near the base of Mount Pinatubo. So, they were devastated when that volcano erupted in 1991, burying the surrounding countryside in ash and debris, obliterating villages, and killing or displacing possibly tens of thousands of Aetas.
They did return, and many now inhabit the volcanic region again today. But Aetas are also scattered across some of the central and southern region’s jungles and mangrove swamps. Today, it’s estimated that only 15,000 Aeta still exist in the Philippines (in a country of 110 million), although I’m not sure how accurate that number is or how they’d even go about counting. But, I also read that between 10% to 20% of the Philippines has some Aeta blood.
During my quick research before meeting Grace, I was shocked to read that the life expectancy of an Aeta born today is just 16.5 years. Only one-third of all Aeta children live past 15 years (at which point, their average life expectancy rises to 27.3 years). That's hard to believe until you realize that most Aeta are born at home or with the help of a midwife, never see a doctor or take medicine in their lives, have no medical care or proper education at all. They also are subjected to many of the same addictive predispositions and vices that befall Aborigines and Native Americans, cutting short their tragic lives.
They did return, and many now inhabit the volcanic region again today. But Aetas are also scattered across some of the central and southern region’s jungles and mangrove swamps. Today, it’s estimated that only 15,000 Aeta still exist in the Philippines (in a country of 110 million), although I’m not sure how accurate that number is or how they’d even go about counting. But, I also read that between 10% to 20% of the Philippines has some Aeta blood.
During my quick research before meeting Grace, I was shocked to read that the life expectancy of an Aeta born today is just 16.5 years. Only one-third of all Aeta children live past 15 years (at which point, their average life expectancy rises to 27.3 years). That's hard to believe until you realize that most Aeta are born at home or with the help of a midwife, never see a doctor or take medicine in their lives, have no medical care or proper education at all. They also are subjected to many of the same addictive predispositions and vices that befall Aborigines and Native Americans, cutting short their tragic lives.
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The Aeta are traditionally monotheistic – they believe in a supreme being but also lesser deities, and can also be described as animists because they pay homage to various environmental spirits, like those that exist in the rivers, wind, sea, skies, and even inside Mount Pinatubo, “Apo Na.” However, their sense of religion is less than rigid, and they also show influences of American Evangelical Protestant missionaries in the 1960s as well as Jehovah's Witnesses.
From what I've read, any help from the government is largely ceremonial, and Aeta communities still rely on church or private donations.
Sadly, these First People are not even second-class citizens in their own land, as they’ve been largely forgotten and constitute the poorest of the poor here in the Philippines. They mostly live within their own isolated tribal communities, where there are scarce few jobs (Grace told me that the men carve wooden flutes that are sold as souvenirs, earning $1 per flute), opportunities, or chances for a better life.
The Aetas haven’t even received recognition or restitution for their plight by the government, such as the Aborigines or other First People around the world. In 2001, the Philippines government did pass the Indigenous People Development Plan, which awarded them ownership of their homelands – in theory.
But, tellingly, the plan was drafted in English – not the Aeta native tongue or even the national language of the Philippines, signaling that it was mostly just for optics. Their lands have been stolen or raped through logging, slash-and-burn farming, or outright annexation.
Sadly, these First People are not even second-class citizens in their own land, as they’ve been largely forgotten and constitute the poorest of the poor here in the Philippines. They mostly live within their own isolated tribal communities, where there are scarce few jobs (Grace told me that the men carve wooden flutes that are sold as souvenirs, earning $1 per flute), opportunities, or chances for a better life.
The Aetas haven’t even received recognition or restitution for their plight by the government, such as the Aborigines or other First People around the world. In 2001, the Philippines government did pass the Indigenous People Development Plan, which awarded them ownership of their homelands – in theory.
But, tellingly, the plan was drafted in English – not the Aeta native tongue or even the national language of the Philippines, signaling that it was mostly just for optics. Their lands have been stolen or raped through logging, slash-and-burn farming, or outright annexation.
Now you know a little bit about the Aetas, and why the story of the forthright airport cleaner who turned in $1,000 in cash spread like wildfire online. Soon, reporters from several popular Philippines shows and newspapers showed up to interview her and snap photos. Dubbed, “The Honest Aeta,” Grace was given a certificate by the president of the airport, and her temporary job made permanent. But she wasn’t given a raise or promotion, and life soon went back to normal for her when the fanfare died down.
That is, until I saw her photo and the headline on Facebook. I was so inspired by her story that I reached out to a local friend, who was able to track her down. We found out that while Grace was happy just to do the right thing and not asking for any recognition, her three kids couldn’t even get to school most days in the rainy season.
That is, until I saw her photo and the headline on Facebook. I was so inspired by her story that I reached out to a local friend, who was able to track her down. We found out that while Grace was happy just to do the right thing and not asking for any recognition, her three kids couldn’t even get to school most days in the rainy season.
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In fact, that was a problem for most of the 75 kids that attended this simple school up in the mountains, little more than an open-air concrete shell with no front door, no desks or chairs, and only one ceiling fan. The rainy season meant long walks up muddy roads, treacherous hills, and through flooded fields so, without any rain gear, the little ones often couldn’t make it to school for weeks.
Luckily, through Lifted International, the charity that I helped found along with some great friends, we were able to arrange some funds to buy the rain gear those little Aeta students needed.
On a gray Saturday morning so humid you could almost ring water out of the air like a washcloth, I was instructed to meet Grace and her brother at a Jollibee (the popular fast food chain) in Mabalacat, an industrial town that served as the “other side of the tracks” to the tourist hub of Clark, where she worked at the airport.
Squeezed inside a trike, I breathed exhaust and tried in vain to get my bearings as we sputtered and sped through traffic. Finally, the driver pulled into a Jollibee, allowing me to get out of the trike's sidecar and unfold my legs. But it was the wrong Jollibee’s, I found out after furious Facebook messages back and forth, and there was another one, much further in the depths of the city.
I got back in; we continued on; and soon, we were in parts where I didn’t see one other foreign face for hours. We found the correct Jollibee, and it wasn't hard to spot Grace, as she was standing out front scanning the street so not to miss us. Grace also introduced me to her older sister, Lea, who was accompanying since her brother couldn’t make it. They had been waiting since 7 am (for our 10 am meeting time) since they were so excited and didn't want to be late! More Filipinos should take note of that time management!
On a gray Saturday morning so humid you could almost ring water out of the air like a washcloth, I was instructed to meet Grace and her brother at a Jollibee (the popular fast food chain) in Mabalacat, an industrial town that served as the “other side of the tracks” to the tourist hub of Clark, where she worked at the airport.
Squeezed inside a trike, I breathed exhaust and tried in vain to get my bearings as we sputtered and sped through traffic. Finally, the driver pulled into a Jollibee, allowing me to get out of the trike's sidecar and unfold my legs. But it was the wrong Jollibee’s, I found out after furious Facebook messages back and forth, and there was another one, much further in the depths of the city.
I got back in; we continued on; and soon, we were in parts where I didn’t see one other foreign face for hours. We found the correct Jollibee, and it wasn't hard to spot Grace, as she was standing out front scanning the street so not to miss us. Grace also introduced me to her older sister, Lea, who was accompanying since her brother couldn’t make it. They had been waiting since 7 am (for our 10 am meeting time) since they were so excited and didn't want to be late! More Filipinos should take note of that time management!
Grace and Lea turned out to be the sweetest, nicest people ever, and we had fun joking around, but I also got to hear their story as we drove around. They were effusive in their thanks when I handed them the big bag of personal items, which some local friends donated specifically for Grace’s three kids as a thank you for her honesty. But, in the Filipino tradition, they didn’t open the bag of gifts in front of me since that would be rude.
Next, we were on a mission to find a great discount store that offered all of the things the 75 school children needed. There were four of us now occupying one motorcycle trike, so, with our gangly Filipino driver, Jun, kick-starting the engine, Grace and her sister sat comfortably in the trike’s sidecar, while I was left to ride side saddle hanging off the back of the motorcycle seat behind Jun.
It took us about an hour in traffic, bolting back and forth across town to three different stores like that. All at the same time, I shifted my weight when my limbs lost circulation, ducked down so I wouldn’t bang my head on the metal roof overhead, and tried not to lose a flip flop as they brushed the street below – or get a leg ripped off by a truck that passed too close.
Next, we were on a mission to find a great discount store that offered all of the things the 75 school children needed. There were four of us now occupying one motorcycle trike, so, with our gangly Filipino driver, Jun, kick-starting the engine, Grace and her sister sat comfortably in the trike’s sidecar, while I was left to ride side saddle hanging off the back of the motorcycle seat behind Jun.
It took us about an hour in traffic, bolting back and forth across town to three different stores like that. All at the same time, I shifted my weight when my limbs lost circulation, ducked down so I wouldn’t bang my head on the metal roof overhead, and tried not to lose a flip flop as they brushed the street below – or get a leg ripped off by a truck that passed too close.
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I was relieved when we reached our final destination – a “99.9” Peso store (about $2 USD and our equivalent to a 99 Cent store) deep in the heart of a public market.
We spent the next couple of hours there. Amid gleeful chaos, the sisters navigated up and down the aisles, picking out things the children needed, negotiating five transactions at once with the store’s eager-to-please young staff, who were dispatched to find us 75 white t-shirts, raincoats, umbrellas, and backpacks in various sizes, colors, and with a host of cartoon characters, Disney princesses, or superheroes printed on them.
We spent the next couple of hours there. Amid gleeful chaos, the sisters navigated up and down the aisles, picking out things the children needed, negotiating five transactions at once with the store’s eager-to-please young staff, who were dispatched to find us 75 white t-shirts, raincoats, umbrellas, and backpacks in various sizes, colors, and with a host of cartoon characters, Disney princesses, or superheroes printed on them.
The store workers looked on in puzzled wonderment, as foreign guests never visited their shop - and certainly not with two Aeta women, each one standing about 4 foot 7 inches at best, overloading carts with supplies.
Once they found out who Grace was and what we were doing, they recognized her instantly since her story had gone viral. Even our driver, Jun, who surrendered the rest of his afternoon to be our personal chauffeur, knew of her.
Soon, it became a community activity, as other visitors to the store wanted to chat, people out on the street stared as we took photos with the Aeta woman, and others stopped to pitch in. When the store ran out of rain boots in kids sizes, the manager made a phone call and a man soon arrived with two massive grain sacks filled with about 100 rubber rain boots, all dumped on the floor in piles so we could go through and get what we needed.
Once they found out who Grace was and what we were doing, they recognized her instantly since her story had gone viral. Even our driver, Jun, who surrendered the rest of his afternoon to be our personal chauffeur, knew of her.
Soon, it became a community activity, as other visitors to the store wanted to chat, people out on the street stared as we took photos with the Aeta woman, and others stopped to pitch in. When the store ran out of rain boots in kids sizes, the manager made a phone call and a man soon arrived with two massive grain sacks filled with about 100 rubber rain boots, all dumped on the floor in piles so we could go through and get what we needed.
I had set the budget limit to 15,000 Pesos (about $300), but no one seemed to pay attention to me as the workers rushed around to and filled the carts with more and more.
Once the calculator came out, it was the time of reckoning. I was sorry to see that we’d blown past that 15k budget and were up closer to 25k. I chipped in the last Peso I had in my pocket (minus that I had to pay Jun), and we managed to get just about everything (except the white shirts) for less than 19,000 Pesos.
We even took photos with the store workers as we said goodbye, and the manager gave us her number to call ahead next time. The haul was loaded and strapped into a second trike outside.
Grace and Lea invited me to come along and present the things to the school kids. But it was only Saturday, and with a Muslim holiday on Monday, it wouldn’t be Tuesday until the kids got their new rain gear and school supplies, and I’d already be back home to Manila.
But I promised them that we'd all stay in touch and I'd visit next time in the dry season when the roads are passable - with the missing white shirts!
Once the calculator came out, it was the time of reckoning. I was sorry to see that we’d blown past that 15k budget and were up closer to 25k. I chipped in the last Peso I had in my pocket (minus that I had to pay Jun), and we managed to get just about everything (except the white shirts) for less than 19,000 Pesos.
We even took photos with the store workers as we said goodbye, and the manager gave us her number to call ahead next time. The haul was loaded and strapped into a second trike outside.
Grace and Lea invited me to come along and present the things to the school kids. But it was only Saturday, and with a Muslim holiday on Monday, it wouldn’t be Tuesday until the kids got their new rain gear and school supplies, and I’d already be back home to Manila.
But I promised them that we'd all stay in touch and I'd visit next time in the dry season when the roads are passable - with the missing white shirts!
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With plenty of hugs and waves, we said goodbye, and I made sure the trike driver would take the two Aeta sisters through Mabacalat and as far up the mountain as his bike would go.
I found out later that he couldn’t go all the way up to their mountain village, so Grace and her sister had to actually start carrying all of those things – including two huge sacks of boots almost as big as they were – straight up the mountain road! Luckily, a couple came along in a sturdy SUV that could handle the incline and offered to drive them the rest of the way.
The crazy thing is that they, too, had heard of Grace, the Honest Aeta!
-Norm :-)
Check out these photos and videos of the kids receiving their new stuff and thanking Lifted International (or, something that sounds close enough!). And if you'd like to make a donation to help these kids, just go to LiftedInt.org.
I found out later that he couldn’t go all the way up to their mountain village, so Grace and her sister had to actually start carrying all of those things – including two huge sacks of boots almost as big as they were – straight up the mountain road! Luckily, a couple came along in a sturdy SUV that could handle the incline and offered to drive them the rest of the way.
The crazy thing is that they, too, had heard of Grace, the Honest Aeta!
-Norm :-)
Check out these photos and videos of the kids receiving their new stuff and thanking Lifted International (or, something that sounds close enough!). And if you'd like to make a donation to help these kids, just go to LiftedInt.org.
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