hope and despair

Helped Fr. Neil this morning with writing the history of the St. Raphael parish for its 50th anniversary this October. It sounds like it will be a huge deal, even featuring a beauty pagent for Ms. "Gay" Kawayan. Gays are very much accepted in every level society here. High school students, barangay captains, school teachers, priests, etc. And they're not afraid to strut their stuff. It's interesting. It fits with the general atmosphere of "whatever" which I'm learning to breathe in.

Later I went with Fr. Pejay to Bilwang and Bulalacao to celebrate mass in the elementary schools. There is mass in each school once a month. "This is the day the Lord has made," sang the children, beautiful and brown. They all seem to know I'm a foreigner, all sneaking glances and giggling. Cute as hell. After mass I watched them as they used small sticks to smack the dragonflies that filled the late afternoon air. Below the green school grounds full of flowers, the glistening sea. We sat in the shade with a few teachers drinking water straight from the coconuts that some of the boys fetched. This is the day the Lord has made.

I know many of the neighbors in town now. People are outside most of the time so it's easy to just walk around (suroy-suroy) and "call" on neigbors. Two little guys, JR and Dudong, across the the street have taken a liking to me and often times tag along when I go on constitutionals to the plaza or pier. It nice just sitting with them.

We held our first youth group meeting in Mapuyo on Sunday. There were about 30 high school kids mostly girls. It was intesely awkward for me at first but I just took a back seat and let them lead. They held and election and "elected" officers by calling out names and raising hands. In the end we had an entire board of officers including a "seargant at arms" and a "muse." Is that like a court jester? They each made a brief speech. Next week we'll start planning activities.


This week a group of us also went to this isolated village of 6 houses called Tinago (hidden). To get to Tinago we hiked for about an hour through dense tropical forest eating wild guava and getting bitten by mosquitos (me only). Someone there had badly injured his leg about a year ago with a bolo (machete), and it still hasn't healed. Fr. Pejay annointed this sick man with oil and prayed with him. He can't afford the medicince and now I think he's dying from the infection. Despite all the beauty I'm experiencing, the fact of the matter is that it is a hard life for most of the people here. Life for many is simply about survival, and sadly some just don't make it. I attended 2 funerals already, both deaths premature. It seems to be a common occurence and people just continue on with their lives. Sigh..

Here at last

I erected my mosquito net today. No one else is bothered by them but for some reason the mosquitoes here have a special affinity for my blood. It drives me mad. My hope is that over time my body will somehow evolve to produce some kind of natural repellant which all the locals seem to possess. I’ll let you know if it happens.

Anyway I finally made it here to my assignment site at St. Raphael the Archangel Parish in Kawayan, Biliran. I’ve been here for almost 2 weeks and I’m still adjusting (mentally, spiritually, gastrointestinally). I live in the friary or convent of the parish with Fr. Pejay and Fr. Neil, both of whom are young Franciscans friars and comfortable company to be around. Also staying here at the convent is Bert, a pensive sailor and the brother of Fr. Pejay; George, the 22 year old sacristan (altar boy) who has also returned to high school to finish his degree; and Larry and Hans, who are college students studying in Naval, the commercial center of the island. The three of them are “scholars” of the friars and are financially supported by them. There’s another cast of characters, workers of the parish many with unknown positions, that are always around during the day. Hence it’s a lively place that, true to the Franciscan charism, feels charged with the vibe of brotha/sista-hood.

My room here is small and sparse but I like it that way. (At night I read and write by candlelight to make it feel even more “authentic.”) The rest of the place is quite comfortable however. (Yes, there’s electricity though every day there’s been at least one brown out, and there’s running water which flows in abundance from a spring up the mountain. The tap is often times left freely running which pisses me off out of principle but I'm learning to cope.) The friary is on hill and the back deck where most of the chilling is done overlooks the sea which is dotted with several islets. The towering volcanic island of Maripippi rises in the distance. At night fireflies flicker to the sound of guitars and Bisayan love songs. Rarely will you hear the sound of a car but there’s the chirping of birds, the blowing of conch shell horns by fish vendors, the incessant clucking and crowing of poultry, the barking of dogs, the laughter of children. It is a nice place and so green! Full of flowers and fruits of all kinds, etc. etc.

Thus far I've been accompanying Betty and Baby the two pastoral workers when they make visits to parishoners, teach seminars, etc. Fr. Pejay has also been taking me under his wing, but we usually just pack a picnic and guitar and go to the beach to swim around, spear fish and collect shells for sugba (grillin). Besides this we spend a lot of time "taking our times" as it were, sitting under the Rambutan tree out front with neighbors.

The parish consists of several “barangays,” small separate villages, each of which has its own chapel where mass is celebrated regularly. The main church is here in Kawayan proper but since transportation is difficult, each barangay has its own mini church and faith community. So far I’ve been introducing myself during the masses at different barangays. Eventually I will be in charge of organizing the youth in each barangay, as well as working with the BEC’s (Basic Ecclesial Communities), which are small, faith and life sharing groups. Yes, it sounds awfully vague to me too, but all in due time!

My first challenge to overcome is learning the language (Bisaya / Cebuano). It is really tiring being surrounded constantly by unintelligible chatter. But I’m learning a few new words daily and I have a tutor MWF. Still it’s a daunting task and I wonder if I’ll ever be able to chatter like they do. Chin up, Dave, chin up. Interiorly I often feel like I have little to contribute to the people here but I'm trying to keep the faith that I'm here for a reason, that there is much to learn about self and other in the Unknown, and that it isn't just marketable skills that overcomes but simple Love for one's neighbor. Love is all of God's money.

Internet is about 40 minutes away by jeepney so I'm not sure how often I'll be able to post until, that is, I buy my own motorcycle and I can roll around this island Che Guevarra style. Thank you all for your prayers and spiritual support. It's a rocky time this adjustment and I often think about home, about friends and family with longing.

World's Greatest Grandma

This is my Lola. She's 92 years old and strong, physically and mentally. She's always laughing. She's the coolest. In the mornings she makes me coffee and sits with me when I eat breakfast (she's usually finished eating by the time I wake up). Lola tells me tales of old. Like when her father took her to China when she was 12. She still remembers walking through the village during a festival and watching the men lying down in colorful tents smoking opium, and how the juice of the poppies was collected in the fields by workers. Her father was apprently fond of opium. When they returned to the Philippines a year later, she had a new brother who they had purchased.
Lola weaves stories as if she is still there. About how she had to ask the captain of the boat to leave his quarters so she could give birth to her first child, my Auntie Marina. She delivered all 8 of her children all by herself, having had learned how to cut the ubilical cord in 6th grade home economics class. During WWII she fled to the hideout in Mabini with my Auntie Inday slung to her chest. When she returned to her house it had already been burned to the ground by the Japanese. She had a shotgun with which she used to hunt bats for food. Like I said, she's the coolest.

***

Tomorrow I depart for new shores and I'm looking forward to it too. Time to switch sides. A couple of nights ago I was in a Starbucks and I was struck with a feeling of missing home, Seattle especially (obvi!). But we're locked in time. Can't rewind. Later that night on the couch, Hope. A Hope that transcends all words and all my petty speculation of what lies in the future. It will be all good. It is a good. And the goodness which is still yet to come lies beyond our capacity to even imagine. "Do not worry. Do not be afraid. Be at peace." This is what He tells me.