I was in my house washing a pot one sultry day several months ago when I heard a voice outside asking in Batangan, “Who lives in this house?”

“A siganon lives there,” answered my next-door neighbor, using the local word for outsider.

“Yes,” I said teasingly in Batangan as I walked to the door, “a white siganon.”

What I saw when I stepped out made me sit down in a hurry. There, peering through the railing, stood an elderly highland Batangan woman! Highlanders rarely come down to the lowlands, and it’s usually only men and teenage boys that make the trek—almost never women. The women and children are terrified of outsiders. In all my contact with the Batangan, I have seen only three highland women.

The elderly lady was obviously surprised to see me, and I could tell that she was ready to run for her life. But for some reason, she stayed put. I began speaking to her in Batangan, and she hesitatingly answered. We talked for a few minutes, and then she wandered off upriver, and I sat on my porch praising God.

As I continue to search for a way to enter the highlands, I treasure such encounters, and I pray that God will use them in His time to bring His freedom to the highlands.

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