THEN A HERO COMES ALONG

An Inspirational Story of Dylan Wilk by Nellie Samson

He didn't look like a knight in shining armor, straight out of a meeting at Arthur's Round Table. Nor did he come riding in on a white horse like the man of La Mancha, fresh from battling windmills. Dylan Wilk, this "knight" of the 21st century, if you will, strode into the room, smiling his open, friendly smile, dressed in a blue short-sleeved shirt and jeans, and holding a cellphone in his hand.

"Magandang hapon po," was his greeting in (almost) accent-free Filipino.

He had come from some other office close by, possibly from the Couples for Christ offices out front. He looks young, and yes, he is young - he's 30 years old - with a determined and "I-know-what-I'm-saying, I-know-what-I'm-doing" air about him. These are traits that must certainly be among those that have made Dylan the man that he is now. In his mid-twenties he had come into his own; he owned at least three luxury cars -- a Ferrari, a Porsche, and a silver BMW M3 (this last-named being the famous one that evolved into some 63 GK houses in what is now known as BMW Village); was living a lifestyle he only used to read and perhaps dream about, and was well on his way to making more of the kind of money he wanted and knew he could make.

First question that comes to mind: What on earth is this young, good-looking, green-eyed, white-skinned guy doing in an office like this?

"In 20 years or so I'll be like one of them," he said, referring to pot-bellied, wealthy, successful gentlemen with the perennial drink in hand, sitting in leather upholstered chairs in exclusive clubs, twice or thrice-divorced, hated by their children who hardly see them, substituting money, beautiful houses, fast cars, expensive resort vacations for love and warmth and caring and a sense of family. "I decided that wasn't for me," he said.

He knew that there must be more to life than material success, money in the bank, opportunities at his fingertips; that fulfillment went beyond luxury cars and living in luxury hotels, moving within the circles of "the rich and the beautiful," drinking expensive wines, dining in expensive restaurants. He wanted so much more than that. He wanted to make a difference.

So he traveled the world, looking for causes, searching for one that he made sure will not be lost, keeping a dream that he made sure will be realized.

Dylan knows about being poor, for he was born poor in a city called Leeds which began in 1086 as a village with a population of about 200. Of course when he was born some 10 centuries later, Leeds was esteemed to be the wealthiest city of its size in Britain.

He is a product of a quick-thinking, technology-savvy generation and his computer games firm made him the ninth richest man in Britain before he reached thirty. Luckily for us, he is also a man with lots of heart and an overwhelming sense of bayani and bayanihan --words he quickly translated to action.

To write about Dylan is unavoidably to write about Gawad Kalinga, the Couples for Christ spin-off that, wonderfully, has proven to be a workable, even successful, solution to our slums and our homeless poor. Dylan believes fervently in the Filipino's optimism and unfading hope that things can always get better; in his bayanihan spirit that makes him readily offer a helping hand.

"There's a hero, a bayani inside every Filipino," Dylan says. "It's what makes him build his own house and when that's finished, turn around to help build his neighbor's house."

And the GK houses? They call them sites, they call them projects costing about 50 to 60,000 pesos each. They call them cluster houses, villages, communities. In reality, they are dreams come true, dreams that have evolved into cement and hollow blocks, galvanized roofing, wood and plaster, doors and windows, paint and plants. A structure called a home, occupied by people called a family, filled with laughter, happy voices, clean kids - a home filled with hope and love.

The key words they go by? A meaning to life, self-respect, upliftment. The houses are not mere shelters, a roof over their heads, four walls to protect them. They are so much more; they give meaning to existence; give self-respect to each individual; teach each one to be generous, concerned, caring. Neighbors weren't just people who live next to each other; they were neighbors in the true sense of the word, helping each other in every way that help was needed.

What more can be said about Dylan that has not already been said? He fires other people's enthusiasm by his own fiery enthusiasm . . . charms them with his wit . . . inspires them with his sincerity and passion.

He travels all over the globe, speaking before Filipinos who have long been away from their native land and may have forgotten - or may not wish to remember - how it is with us here, how misery can compound misery and poverty can dig deep down into the dregs; how hopelessness begets hopelessness.

Speaking before Filipinos, talking to them and letting them know things don't have to be this bad, things could be a whole lot better, just give their kababayans a chance, because a glimmer of hope can be a blazing light that can turn a kababayan into a bayani , a hero among other heroes, reaching out to pull others up, offering a helping hand to put a neighbor's house together. A hero in small, everyday ways that put all together does make a big difference.

How can his audiences not respond to this Briton who has so identified himself with the Filipinos he works with, lives with, and believes so wholeheartedly in?

"I first came here in January 2003, after hearing about the Philippines and especially about poor Filipinos living in the slums or being utterly homeless." He returned in April of that same year, and stayed on.

And will he return to his native England someday in the future?

"I'm married to a Filipina," he says, "and my children will be raised as Filipinos, so I suppose I'll stay here forever," he smiles. He's married to Anna, the daughter of GK executive director Tony Meloto. And that's about as committed as anyone can get, certainly.

His fervor and untiring efforts have inspired the families in these GK communities to move on, to make dream a reality, to dare to hope. They're putting to practice an old truth that most of us know by heart even as grade school kids, having seen these words written on the blackboards of our schooldays: "IF THERE'S A WILL, THERE'S A WAY." Perhaps we can modify that to read "If there's a Wilk, there's a way."

After all, it's every man's right to dream, to keep a dream in his heart. But only a rare few, like Dylan Wilk, are blessed with the privilege to make other men's dreams come true.