Maria Consuela "Chelito" Dimayo, from the book "Mormon Women: Portraits & Conversations" by Kent Miles & James N. Kimball, (Handcart Books, 2009)

MARIA CONSUELA "CHELITO" DIMAYO

Interviewed in November 2000 by Kent Miles

Manilla, Philippines
©2000 Kent Miles 

In the early 1970s, "Chelito" Dimayo was a guerilla in the Philippine hills, fighting against the Marcos regime. Today, she is an active church member who has held almost every position a woman can hold in her ward in Tacloban, and her seven children have gone on to attend LDS colleges and marry in LDS temples. Her life has had many difficult periods, but she feels no bitterness. "I know how lucky I am, " she says. "I've been very, very blessed."

*****

I was born on September 12, 1951, in Nasipiti Agusan del Norte. It is a small town in Mindanao. I have one brother and three sisters, and I've been a member of the Church for almost 27 years. I also have a sister who was baptized this year. I have nine children--seven are living, I lost two in infancy--and one granddaughter. I have one son who's on a mission in California right now, and two children studying at BYU-Hawaii. My oldest son went to BYU and met his wife there. They're now living in Midvale, Utah. The rest are still living at home.

Although I was born in Mindanao, I was raised in Manila. After I was born my father went to work for an American company and transferred there. He worked at Subic Base, and from there he went to Pakistan and Vietnam, as a civilian.

I grew up as a Catholic. I studied in an exclusive girls' school, and later I transferred to a private high school. Afterward, I went to the University of San Tomas and studied nursing for three years, but I never took it up as a profession because in 1972 1 got involved with a movement that was fighting against the Marcos dictatorship. I got involved because my cousin, whom I was rooming with, was a leader of the Makabaka. This was a woman's organization, a counterpart to the men's organization that was opposing Marcos.

There were lots of anti-Marcos discussion groups meeting in the schools, and I think they were particularly interested in recruiting from the college of nursing so they could get people to run the movement's medical units. My cousin asked me to help her with a few minor tasks--typing her speeches, and proofreading some of their literature. Of course, when you're proofreading you're also reading the material. I started thinking, "This is really something important," and I started going to meetings with her.

I recognized that there were social problems in my country. I saw poverty all around me every day. But I thought, "Well, that's life, there's nothing you can do about it." But as I grew up and went to college, and read my cousin's literature, I realized, "You can do something about it."

I thought about it, and decided that it wouldn't be enough to finish college and go to work, helping myself and my family. You have to help others, as well. So I decided to join my cousin in the movement, and I participated in rallies and demonstrations against the president.

My cousin got blacklisted, and had to leave school. But she told me, "If anything happens, don't worry, we'll get you out of there." Then, after a major demonstration, I was blacklisted and jailed too.

I was bailed-out by my father, and the school expelled me, saying they couldn't be responsible for my actions. The police followed me everywhere. But my cousin contacted me, and told me that the movement would pick me up and take me into the underground. I wound up in a safe house in Manila, and that's where I met my husband. I was serving as a bare-foot nurse, and he was a bare-foot doctor. We had enough received enough medical training that we could care for those who with gun-shot wounds. and the kinds of injuries the combatants received. This was before either of us became interested in the Church. My husband to be was very nice. He was a gentle person, and as I saw him take care of our patients, his kindness charmed me. That’s how we met.

We learned that we would both be sent to Angeles Pampanga, to staff a hospital that was being built by the Communist Party of the Philippines (CPP). When we reached Angeles, we started buying medicines and supplies for the hospital. We worked with the doctors in the operating room, learning first aid procedures, but at the same time we were providing support for the CPP and its Military wing, the NPA (New People's Army). Any of their people who were wounded in encounters with the government military were sent to us. We treated them for gunshot wounds, many of them very serious, because the government troops used soft-nosed bullets, which make a small entry wound but a large, nasty exit wound.

After a while my husband was sent to the mountains, where more people were being shot and where there were many cases of tuberculosis and other diseases. I was already pregnant with our first child, and I stayed behind in the city, running the hospital. What I didn't know was that one of our patients had been caught by the government and tortured. He told me later that the soldiers broke one of his legs. Finally he gave in to the pain and told them the location of the hospital.

One afternoon I locked up the hospital while I took a nap. Somehow the troops got in, and I was awakened by a gun barrel poking me in the face, and a man's voice saying, "Wake up." I saw ten men in army uniforms standing around me, and I panicked.

"No sudden movements," they told me. "Just stand up and turn around." They were looking for a certain commander in the movement, and I told them, "He's not here. Go ahead and look around, but there's no one here but me." When they looked in the attic they found the guns we were hiding, in case we needed to protect ourselves.

"What's this?" they asked me.

"Well, we have them for protection. Come on, I can't even reach the attic."

Often female prisoners were raped, or even killed, but for some reason they didn't touch me. I was using the nom de guerre of a very high government official, and they might have thought that they would be in trouble if anything happened to me.

But I still didn't escape the torture; I think everyone has to undergo that. While we were still in the house, I was beaten with the stock of an M- 16, because they wanted me to tell them where my husband was.

After I'd sat in a comer for about three hours, while they decided what to do with me, the commander they were looking for came to the hospital. Later I learned that he'd come because he had heard that our former patient had been captured, and he wanted to take me out of the hospital before the troops, got there. When he came in, the troops grabbed him and started beating both of us. The commander kept shouting, "Don't touch her! " But the more he shouted, the more they beat him. They wanted him to give evidence against me, but he refused.

After we were beaten we were taken to the military camp in Angeles, Camp Olivas, for tactical interrogation. They asked me questions, and if I didn't give the answer they wanted to hear, they slapped me. I still withheld my real name from them, so my parents never learned that I had

been taken.

I finally had to tell the military that I was pregnant with my first baby. They sent me to a hospital, to make sure that the beatings hadn't damaged my baby. Luckily, everything was fine.

When I got back from the hospital, they kept me in a military barracks with the other female prisoners. We were fed a steady diet of dried fish and rice, every day, which wasn't enough nourishment for a healthy baby. But the people outside brought fresh fruits and vegetables to the prisoners, and thanks to them my first son was born perfectly healthy.

After the birth of my first child, we lived in the prison for another year, while I applied for amnesty on the grounds that prison wasn't a healthy place to raise an infant. After a series of conferences, the military agreed to grant me an amnesty, on the condition that I report in weekly so that they could see that the child was well and I was no longer with the underground. My husband heard through sources in the opposition that I had been released, and sent me a note, saying that he wanted to see our son for the first time. He knew the risks, but he was just too excited about being a father to stay away.

Eventually we managed to set up a meeting, and the baby cried the entire time. But my husband was thrilled, and promised to find a way that we could all be together again in the underground. One day he sent word that I should pack my belongings and meet him with the baby at a certain time and place. I went there and waited, but he never came. Finally I learned through friends that he had been taken prisoner, and was being tortured. Even today he still has health problems as a result of his beatings in prison.

My husband was held in prison for eight months. After he was freed, we went to Cebu, where his family lived. We tried to find work, but no one would hire my husband because he was a known opponent of the Marcos regime. My husband is quite an artist, and he started giving art lessons and selling his own paintings. Eventually he had several students, and that's how we got by.

It was about this time that we first became acquainted with the LDS Church. My husband's cousin was working for the Church Educational System, and he was transferred to Cebu to help establish the seminary program there. He and his wife told us a little about the Church. Later, we met the LDS missionaries when they began coming by to meet with my father-in-law.

Eventually he lost interest, but the missionaries still came by. They would play with my baby, and I would sit and chat with them. Later my husband joined us, and before long we were listening to the discussions. About a year and a half later, in 1975, we were both baptized.

After we were baptized, some people from the guerilla movement contacted us to see how we felt about involvement with the opposition. We told them, "We have two kids now. We still support the goals of the movement, but we'll support them in a way that seems best for us and our children. " We found that the Church gave us opportunities to work to improve the social conditions in our country. One of the most important factors in changing the culture of poverty is the changes that are made inside a person, and the Church showed us that if you have the desire to make those changes, everything outside will change too.

My husband and I served a mission in Tacloban, in the Visaya Islands. It's a beautiful part of the Philippines, and it made me proud to be a citizen of such a lovely country. The Philippines is a great place to live, if you know how to live properly. So many of the people are poor and illiterate, and the help they receive from the government and other sources doesn't really show them how they can make things better for themselves. Being an active Church member helps you see a better way.

The Church makes a big difference in people's lives here. I think the Church welfare program is the best in the Philippines. I see this in my own ward, because we have many indigent members. Our bishop is a good man, and he finds a way to help everybody. During the recent flooding here, it took the government some time to respond, but the Church was there right away. Even non-members got assistance from the Church.

Back in 1979 our house burned down, so with the flooding my husband says, "Well, now we can sing, 'I've seen fire and I've seen rain.' " That fire was the first big trial we went through after joining the Church, but it was much harder to deal with the loss of our two children who died in infancy. My visiting teachers were a source of support during those times, and I continued to read the scriptures. Ultimately I relied on my faith in God, and my knowledge that I would see my children again if I remained faithful and true. I'd like to see young women working to change the world, but I'd like to see them use a different approach from the one I used when I was in my 20s. Back then, I saw the opposition making a difference in people's lives, but when we were captured by the government, the local people went back to the lives they led before. They hadn't changed inside. If more young people would share their testimonies with others, and help them to see how they can change the way they look at themselves and others, I think that would make a real difference.

I'm not sure how well young people here are receiving the Gospel message. I've been to Church dances where I saw young people dancing to music with objectionable lyrics, that would drag them down instead of edifying them. And I see young people dressing in ways that reflect fashion more than the attitudes of a Gospel lifestyle. Part of that, I'm sure, is just normal peer pressure and adolescent rebellion, but another part of the problem is that practically all of the Church materials that we receive are in English. If you don't speak English well, then it's difficult to get the full Gospel message here. I'm concerned that we're losing a lot of young people who were brought up in the Church because of this problem.

I think parents bear the biggest responsibility for keeping their children on the Gospel path. They can express the Gospel in their family life--through family prayers, family home evening, and their own conduct. Always watch for those "teaching moments." They don't always occur in the chapel.

I taught seminary for eighteen years, and Institute for two years. That experience taught me a lot as well. In fact, I'd say I've learned more through my experiences in the Church than I ever did from my experiences in the hills. In the hills, you woke up every day thinking, "Today I might die." My cousin, who got me involved with the opposition, did die. It was even more terrifying to think that someday I might have to kill someone so that I could survive. None of that applies in the Church. Instead, you always find new opportunities to express your love for others and to bask in God's love.

If I could give young women in the Philippines one piece of advice, it would be to stay close to the Church. It may not be able to solve all of your problems, but it can keep you on the right path. Adhering to the principles of the Gospel is the one sure way to happiness, and it will never lead you astray.

Eight Years Later

I still have three children at home. Two are in college, and one just left for his mission.

I have married children. I’m happy they married in the temple, and I’m happy they have remained strong in the Church. Our children like the stories we can tell from the revolution, but their experiences have been those of growing up in the Church. They have learned to be independent, and I have seen them make their own difficult decisions based upon the values they have received from the Church. When I think of independence in terms of what we experienced in the Revolution, it is very, very different from the kind of independence my children have grown up with, and with what they know right now.

As my children have grown I have been able to do my housework quickly and I found I had more time on my hands. So I decided to go back to college and to get additional training in the care of geriatric patients. I finished that, and after 6 months my school contacted me and asked if I would be willing to teach Care Giving in the school where I graduated. And since I had lots of time, I said “Yes. I am more that willing to teach.”

I started teaching, and while teaching I decided I should improve myself some more. So I enrolled in college to get a Bachelor of Arts in Communication with a major in English. I decided on English because eventually I’d like to teach English as a second language to non-English speakers – like Chinese, Korean, Japanese, and of course Philippino’s who are willing to enroll.

I see this as having a connection with my other work, since there are many students in my Care Giving classes who cannot speak good English. They have difficulty finding employment because they can’t communicate fluently in English. My feeling is that if I am able to teach them how to speak better English in order to pass their interviews at the embassy or the job interviews they apply for, it would make a significant difference in their lives. I just graduated with my Bachelor’s degree, and in order to teach English as a second language I will need to take additional courses that will be equivalent to getting a Master’s degree in English. So that is what I start on next. Life is never dull.

The biggest surprise I have had in life, since the time I had children, was the way my children seemed to suddenly grow up, were getting married and leaving home. It was as though I woke up one day and my children had their own families. I have come to realize that life is short, and our experiences here on earth are to teach us what God wants wants us to learn. I realize that nothing is permanent in this world. The only permanency is change.