Many classrooms in the earthquake areas collapsed from the tremors.
IT WAS in 2011, while I was visiting the survivors of a busted dogfighting ring in Cavite alongside some animal welfare advocates, that I first heard about the Tzu Chi Foundation. A number of volunteers, dressed in a uniform of blue shirt and white pants, arrived, inquiring about whatever help was needed, because they also believed animals were sentient beings who deserved care. At a time when some animal welfare organizations were scrambling for resources to rehabilitate the dogs, it was a sliver of hope
In 2019, mutual friend and filmmaker Mitzi Borromeo patched me up with Tzu Chi’s comms lady Judy Lao, already famous on her own for the most fabulous fruitcakes in Manila that she whips up every Christmas. (I usually abhor fruitcake, but this—not this!) Judy enlisted me to write a book for the 25th anniversary of Tzu Chi in the Philippines. Admittedly, I had wondered aloud to Mitzi what the agenda of this Buddhist group was, which appeared to be pure philanthropy, with no apparent goal other than to help.
Looking through the material, I found it almost absurd how they marched unhesitatingly into the heart of disaster sites and flooded areas, in the wake of calamities, in those incongruous white pants, unafraid of soiling them. Maybe that’s why the many people they have helped look at Tzu Chi’s around 500 volunteers like virtual angels on earth.
I was witness to it; on a trip to Tacloban, where the organization was first on the ground after Typhoon Yolanda in 2013 and poured some P1 billion (you read that right) in aid gathered from their members across the globe, people chanted the organization’s name. Tzu Chi took the lead in rebuilding Tacloban’s cathedral after Yolanda ripped its roof off. Earlier, after 2009’s Ondoy, amid the mud and floodwaters, the volunteers were also there, helping haul debris and sweep streets in Marikina.
Our book, published in 2019, was titled A Mission of Love: The Buddhist Compassion Relief Tzu Chi Foundation in the Philippines. “Tzu” is Mandarin for compassion, and “chi,” for relief. It was founded in 1966 in Hualien, Taiwan by a Buddhist nun they call Dharma Master Cheng Yen, whose own life story reads like those of other religious leaders burning with a mission. In her case, the deceptively frail-looking woman was called to pursue compassion in action, moving beyond the usual perception of Buddhists content with sitting in prayer and contemplation. Its Philippine branch was established in 1994, with branches nationwide, and Tzu Chi is now in 139 countries.
Dharma Master Cheng Yen, Tzu Chi’s spiritual leader, as seen in the book ‘A Mission of Love: The Buddhist Compassion Relief Tzu Chi Foundation in the Philippines’
The stories I discovered were incredible: people who lost everything to Yolanda and later received housing, livelihood training, even scholarships for their children; farmers who lost their crops to calamities and were given seed money and a chance to replant and rebuild; even a pair of conjoined twins who were separated at a Tzu Chi hospital in Taiwan, and are now thriving young adults.
Probably the story that moved me most was the Silent Mentors program at the modern Buddhist Tzu Chi University in Hualien, where Tzu Chi volunteers pledge their bodies after death to the state-of-the-art Tzu Chi medical college for students to study. The bodies become not just cadavers, however; the students meet the family of the deceased and learn more about their now “Silent Mentor,” and since fewer students are assigned to each body, the learning becomes more thorough. When the semester is over, the students themselves prepare the body for cremation like the deceased was indeed a family member. The Silent Mentor’s ashes are put in a beautiful glass container, and receive a place of honor in a special room at the college.
I also had the privilege of traveling to Hualien with Judy, now a dear friend, to present the book to Master, and frankly, her appreciation of the stories we told drove Judy and me to tears. Again, like any charismatic, authentic spiritual leader, Master radiates with a peaceful but powerful energy that you feel immediately. In 2024, I was also enlisted to edit Tzu Chi Philippines’ next book, The Power of Compassion: More stories of rescue and relief from Tzu Chi Philippines.
They haven’t stopped working. Last June 8, a massive earthquake rocked Davao Occidental. By June 16, Tzu Chi volunteers from Manila and Davao had conducted a two-day inspection of affected areas in the municipalities of Glan, Sarangani and Jose Abad Santos in Davao Occidental. Government statistics put the number of affected families at 22,572. By June 27, they had returned with rice, blankets, folding beds, toiletries, bath soap, and even solar panels. By July 20, Tzu Chi Philippines CEO Henry Yuñez had visited and identified the organization’s priority after relief: the rebuilding of damaged classrooms.
Last June 8, a massive earthquake rocked Davao Occidental. By June 16, Tzu Chi volunteers from Manila and Davao had conducted a two-day inspection of affected areas
Vegetarian kebabs at Tzu Chi’s fundraising vegetarian buffet for earthquake relief
Yummy mushrooms at the vegetarian buffet
As part of fundraising, Tzu Chi held a benefit vegetarian buffet lunch at the Buddhist Tzu Chi Campus in Sta. Mesa one Sunday. Now, if there’s anything I learned sharing many meals with Judy, a vegetarian, it’s that nobody does vegetarian food quite like Tzu Chi’s cooks. Buffet tables were laden with delicious dishes like vegetarian kebabs, sushi rolls, mushrooms, noodles, and so much more. Dessert was included, of course, with dairy-free cakes and my favorite find, vegan pumpkin and sunflower Florentine cookies to die for.
If you feel like donating to Tzu Chi’s relief work in Davao, bank account numbers are in the name of Buddhist Compassion Relief Tzu Chi Foundation Philippines, Inc., Metrobank 163-3-16307190-9 and BDO 0119-7003-8088. Let’s just say that donations to this tireless organization will be put to the best possible use.
