The other day in mass I noticed that the burning heart of the crucified Jesus above the altar has a shape that looks uncannily similar to the state of New Jersey. Just an observation I guess. no conclusions.
***
Its kind of hard to be reflective here since most of my time is spent in the company of Other. Yesterday, however, we filled a plastic jug with gasoline and took a two hour bangka ride over to Maripipi, the mountain island that forever looms in the distance across the sea. The panging of the motor makes conversation inconvenient so there’s not much to do but sit and stare at the light dancing on the waves. Thought then takes you away to other lands, other times. Reminded me of the pleasant feeling of being alone in the airport in the emptiness between comings and goings. Clamming with Mom in the Barnegat and the long hot shower afterwards. Rain begins. Wave enters and lands on my lap. A long hot shower…ughhhh…
We sailed around the island like Marco Polo. Filling our stores in this village, visiting a distant relative in that, grilling fish for lunch on the beach of a suitable cove. My favorite stop was a place that’s known for its constantly flowing spring of cold, sweet water. The locals gather there to wash clothes; the wives exchange gossip and the old pass down oral tradition to the young… I suppose. My companions and I jumped into the spring and bathed with delight in the invigorating waters. Someone even broke out the black shampoo. Lather up!
Monday, January 16, 2006
Wednesday, January 04, 2006
happy happy
Maayong bagong tuig sa inyong tanan! Happy New Year to all! It’s been a while since I last posted because the computer here broke a while back. But thankfully my overseas benefactors have been gracious enough in their holiday giving to help me afford to buy a new computer for the parish. Big ups! I can now write my blogs as well as make baptismal and marriage certificates.
The holidays here were busy but fun. For the 9 days before Christmas I awoke every morning at 3AM to the sound of Christmas tunes, the old classics, blaring through the convent speakers for the whole town to hear—to get them out of bed and go to Mass well before sunrise. Misa de Gallo. A nice tradition but not my cup of tea. I attended once but decided subsequently just to wake up, pray, slip back into my mosquito net and go back to sleep. So much for inculturation.
We had a couple of Christmas parties. Our staff party involved dressing a few lucky contestants up in the weirdest possible costumes we could concoct using stuff around the house, and then have them dance around and do weird things. It reminded me of something my college roommates would do.
For the big parish party I was chosen to be the escort of the Queen for her coronation. Filipinos love pomp and circumstance I’m finding. The presenting of the scepter, the putting on of the cape, the offerings of song and dance, the royal march. I felt like a politician wearing my barong (fancy-lad see-through shirt) and shaking all those hands. Kind of liked it.
I actually spent Christmas in Cebu with my Lola, auntie, and cousins. Christmas Eve: dancing in the street with rich kids dressed up in cowboy outfits to a live band playing Nelly. Took a bottle-rocket to the arm. It stung and bled a bit but little more than a flesh wound. Woke up slow in a room packed with kids to a dreary, rainy Christmas morn, but it was just right. God is good, praise the Lord.
New Year’s Eve, back in Biliran. Fr. Pejay, his little nephew, King, Edito, and I celebrated Mass with the mountain peoples of Tubig-Ginoo, Kansanoc, and Tadloy. Then more dancing in the street until the wee hours, minus the rich cowboy kids. Vaguely remember someone telling me to “minimize my voice.” Me? Belligerent?
Anyway, prospero ano everyone! May your cups overfloweth with love and grace this and every year!
out
**NEW pics finally
The holidays here were busy but fun. For the 9 days before Christmas I awoke every morning at 3AM to the sound of Christmas tunes, the old classics, blaring through the convent speakers for the whole town to hear—to get them out of bed and go to Mass well before sunrise. Misa de Gallo. A nice tradition but not my cup of tea. I attended once but decided subsequently just to wake up, pray, slip back into my mosquito net and go back to sleep. So much for inculturation.
We had a couple of Christmas parties. Our staff party involved dressing a few lucky contestants up in the weirdest possible costumes we could concoct using stuff around the house, and then have them dance around and do weird things. It reminded me of something my college roommates would do.
For the big parish party I was chosen to be the escort of the Queen for her coronation. Filipinos love pomp and circumstance I’m finding. The presenting of the scepter, the putting on of the cape, the offerings of song and dance, the royal march. I felt like a politician wearing my barong (fancy-lad see-through shirt) and shaking all those hands. Kind of liked it.
I actually spent Christmas in Cebu with my Lola, auntie, and cousins. Christmas Eve: dancing in the street with rich kids dressed up in cowboy outfits to a live band playing Nelly. Took a bottle-rocket to the arm. It stung and bled a bit but little more than a flesh wound. Woke up slow in a room packed with kids to a dreary, rainy Christmas morn, but it was just right. God is good, praise the Lord.
New Year’s Eve, back in Biliran. Fr. Pejay, his little nephew, King, Edito, and I celebrated Mass with the mountain peoples of Tubig-Ginoo, Kansanoc, and Tadloy. Then more dancing in the street until the wee hours, minus the rich cowboy kids. Vaguely remember someone telling me to “minimize my voice.” Me? Belligerent?
Anyway, prospero ano everyone! May your cups overfloweth with love and grace this and every year!
out
**NEW pics finally
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