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LETTER FROM THE PHILIPPINES
THE DISTURBING, THE MEMORABLE, AND THE SATISFYING
A TIME TO LOOK BACK BY COLM MEANEY CSsR
As my final Letter from the Philippines, I offer some impressions of the culture that struck me during my years there. I begin with an aspect of life that I find somewhat disturbing and proceed to what I have found memorable and, finally, that I found satisfying.
I was sitting on the porch of a house in the rural Philippines, and my companion was the woman of the house, a placid woman in her late-50s. The village had seen its share of violence. Just before I arrived, a single woman in her 50s was raped and subsequently died. Some time later, two friends were drinking, but the atmosphere soon turned sour. One died of machete blows while the other was taken to hospital. (This last incident exhibited a colour I hadn’t seen before: the deceased’s family painted his coffin red to signify that the blood feud continues). So now some police and village militia are present at the weekly market, which draws quite a crowd from neighbouring villages.
As a militia man passed by, I asked the housewife what weapon was slung over his shoulder. Without hesitation, she said, “It looks like an Uzi, with a silencer.” Well, I was flabbergasted. Not because a farmer-militia with almost zero training in firearms was carrying such a weapon (I only know the name from the movies. No, I was shocked that a housewife who not only hasn’t a violent bone in her body but who has never even entertained a violent thought would be so instantly familiar with such tools of destruction. No woman in Ireland of any generation (apart
from paramilitaries) knows what an Uzi is. Jacuzzi, yes, Uzi, no. And a silencer is what goes on a motorbike to dull the sound of the engine. The other silencer is limited to slick Hollywood assassins.
This is a country saturated with weaponry and with everyday incidents of violence – from alcohol-fuelled domestic disturbances to a constant reporting of killings nationwide. This dark side of Filipino culture, coupled with our being followers of the Lord who shunned violence, makes it urgent that we should live peaceable lives. In a culture where calm enjoyment between friends can, in the blink of an eye, and the clink of a glass, turn to seething, manic resentment, and deadly bloodshed, any effort at peace-building is to be lauded.
I myself had a brush with violence, or possible violence, at any rate. I was going uphill on a motorbike with two lay companions. The road was very
muddy, and progress was slow. As we rounded a bend, a fellow flagged down our bike. He asked to be driven somewhere. I said that we were heading further uphill and couldn’t delay. He then brandished a homemade gun, remarking on my talking back to him (he clearly had been drinking). The gun was made of wood, with the live bullet held in tension using strong elastic bands. Pressing on the trigger would release the round. My male companion whispered to me that we should get off the bike, which we did, and we walked in among some nearby houses and made our way to our destination on foot.
It turns out that the lad with the homemade gun was something of a local troublemaker, but we had met him at a time when he was acutely upset. His father had died that very day. He had requested the use of the village truck for various tasks but had been turned down as the muddy conditions prevented any such use. To be fair to him, he was at the parish house the next morning when I arrived and was most apologetic for his behaviour. We parted amicably.
Some of my most memorable experiences were the various processions held at different times of the year. I wrote regarding our Advent procession: “And for children walking in “The Way of the Crib,” with their parents and friends, holding their candle, looking with eyes full of wonder at the crib held aloft on the men’s shoulders, with blinking Christmas lights draped over the figurines in the crib - all this is like an acorn of happiness and contentment which will grow into an oak of gentle, serene memories, to soothe them when life has lost that lovely childhood
The support for the scholars is based on the old adage: if you give a man a fish, you feed him for a day; if you teach him how to fish, you feed him for a lifetime.
aura of endless excitement, adventure, and ever-new delights, and instead treads the somewhat wearier, more serious path of adulthood.”
An incident touched me deeply during a similar procession. Using Redemptorist funds, I had been helping a young mother called Jenafe to get treatment for cancer. She was from a southern island and had come to Cebu for treatment and to be with her husband, Michael, who worked there. They had one child. The procession wound along the city streets, and various families were tasked to prepare altars at certain points. Many put great effort into their altar, seeing it as an honour, and Jenafe and Michael had accepted the task. I could hardly hold back the tears when we reached the location of their altar because Jenafe, Michael, and their baby formed a live tableau of the scene of the crib in Bethlehem. They stood there stoically as the prayers were recited. Then the hymn-singing resumed, and the procession continued. Jenafe continued her treatment, but the insidious cancer had ravaged her young body. She died some months later.
Mind you, even the more sombre atmosphere of holy week has produced gem-like memories. In previous years, I had always had 12 male apostles for the holy week ceremonies, but one year I found myself asking, “Why focus on gender?” If we are to be literally true to the gospels, then our apostles should be fluent in Hebrew and have among them a few fishermen, a former tax-gatherer, a traitor, and a denier (among other traits). I didn’t think the good folk in the Philippine hills would be too literal on all those points, so we ended up with more female than male apostles. And it was a superb group! Not only did they participate with solemn dignity in all the ceremonies, wearing their named sashes and carrying their bamboo torches with a touching formality, but each day of holy week (from Palm Sunday until Holy Thursday morning), they visited practically every home in the barrio (and the barrio is 7000+ acres).
I found them to be a tremendously inspiring group. I knew them all: simple housewives, hardy farmers, and every day, there was not a single protest as they set out in pairs, in sauna-like heat, to go from house to house, reading their prayerblessing, then sprinkling holy water on the family members. We’d meet for lunch, and there would be mighty laughter as they recounted their adventures: how, for instance, one fellow had to jump, with lightning speed, up on a fence to avoid ferocious dogs. They’d set out like post-modern apostles, the women with eyecatching earrings and lipstick, the men with shades, looking like Arnold Schwarzenegger in The Terminator. And they would return, tired but satisfied, mission accomplished.
Finally, among the very many satisfying moments during my years in the Philippines, one of the choicest is the knowledge of the scholars I am helping to complete their courses, whether secondary school or university (through the generosity of donors in Ireland). The support for the scholars is based on the old adage: if you give a man a fish, you feed him
for a day; if you teach him how to fish, you feed him for a lifetime. Surely, a solid education is a good preparation for these youngsters as they face an uncertain future. These recent trying times (pandemics and so on) might have weakened lesser mortals, but this current group of scholars seems to have been inspired by the various trials. While still attending their classes virtually, many managed to hold down a part-time job to earn pocket money for themselves and income to help their families. These are valiant warriors, so any help my fund gives them is, to use a phrase from The Big Issue magazine, “a hand up, not a hand out.” In the October 2022 issue of Reality, I wrote about “Operation Second Chance,” a government program to help youngsters in trouble with the law. Most encouragingly, one of the current batch of scholars was recently part of that very programme. His future looks bright.
The other two beneficiaries of my fund are easier to summarise. First are people in a crisis: either medical or resulting from some natural calamity (e.g., typhoon). These can often be most pitiful: people, already in dire circumstances, run up against a wall of almost hellish proportions – whether through accident, natural catastrophe, or just random fate. In these cases, emergency support is needed to help rebuild a home or provide medical help. And fortunately, the funds are there, as well as a trusted friend to administer them.
The fund is also used to give an occasional “bundle of joy” to certain families in need. This is the equivalent of our “Christmas hamper,” but it is far simpler and less costly. It consists of a collection of the basics (rice, sardines, noodles, coffee) and a rarity (an apple or a few grapes for the new year). Filipinos believe you should have 12 rounded fruits in the house on New Year’s Eve to ward off any evil influences and prepare for a prosperous year ahead; hence the grapes and apples (both imported).
