St. Paul to the Filipinos
Once a month, I meet my catechists and explain to them all the four Sunday readings. In one of those meetings, the second reading was from Paul’s letter to the Philippines. Knowing that Ghanaians call Filipinos “Philippians”, I said, “kindly read the letter of Paul to my great-grand parents.” Not even one noticed the joke.
Bakit?
At out Filipino gathering, during our sharing of experiences, Sr. Alice Amarga, RVM was telling how she almost died of her first malaria attack. Her doctor was able to save her but she could not understand why after a month her doctor died. So she kept asking. “Why, why Lord?” Yours truly could not resist suggesting: “Maybe the Lord admonished the doctor, ‘bakit mo binuhay siya?”
Snakeman
During our Filipino gathering it was revealed tat one of the Filipino priests is fond of looking for snakes. When Pina Manalo, our Filipino architect working in Accra arrived, she was asked by her Lebanese co-worker about this priest. The Lebanese said to Pina: “I hear you have a Filipino priest her who looks like snake?”
By: Fr. Joe Panabang, SVD
Killing Ground for Elephants
Among my village treks to which I always look forwards with excitements is the one to far- flung Kunsu. Kunsu means ‘killing ground for elephants.’ More than eighteen miles away from mission center, the road is too much. At the height of the rain only tractors with trailers can go though. During dry season, the big cargo trucks go there to get sacks of charcoal by the hundreds. Atop these open cargo trucks, loaded to overflowing, the passengers find their comfort. I usually join these poor, yet happy people enjoying the ride. Having learnt some Ghanaian popular folk songs from a language school, I would without hesitation intone one of them. In a second, the whole group is singing freely to the swaying a swinging of the car across the labyrinths and greeneries so wild with joy that no one thinks of the real danger lurking behind the wheels. If there is no truck, I would walk with companions carrying my things reminiscent of African explorers in the olden days.
Male Chauvinism?
Joseph Jumah of Soronoase, one of my dedicated catechists has six children – all girls; His wife gives birth almost every year. Prompted by such spacing, I asked Daniel Adjei, the Assistant Catechist why and he said: “Joseph Jumah is desperately in need of a boy that is why he keeps trying and hoping.”
Puti para sa Celebration
Hoping to motivate our candidates for baptism in my remotest village, I was telling the people that the best attire for occasions like weddings, ordinations, and baptism is white. True enough, during the baptism, almost everyone was in white and more beautifully, during the singing, they were waving in the air white handkerchiefs which according to their custom is a symbol of victory over satan; and of course, proud as a peacock, I was standing with my newly washed white shoes.
They say here in Ghana, almost everything is possible. One late night, coming from the villages, a big car fully loaded with charcoal was stuck on the road. As I approached, a man stood on the road, knelt down, plead the back of his right hand on the top of his opened left palm and started pleading my moving his right wrist up and down against his opened left palm (a Ghanaian way of pleading for help). Moved with pity, I stopped and heard a woman moaning somewhere: I tried to decipher from where the moaning was coming. It turned out it was a woman in labor on the top of that charcoal. Luckily, my Nissan was empty. Gently, we placed her inside, I spoked to her in Twe ( the local language): “If you deliver in the car, if the baby is a born we should call Him Nissan if a girl – Nissana” Thank God we made it to the hospital without a mishap. A month later, a woman came knocking at my door. “Please Father, I came to show you Joseph,” Joseph? What do you mean?” “Father, do you remember that night you took a woman on the road to the hospital? I was the one.” Filled with joy, I leaned over and saw the child was lovely, beautiful and cute with a name neither Nissan not Nissana but Joseph. Happy Birthday Joseph. Welcome to the world.
We have here at our mission two big mangoes tree outside our mission fence. But half of the branches hand over our land. One afternoon, I saw James, our mission helper gathering some ripe mangoes from the tree. Afraid I asked him why. He said, “don’t worry Father, the mangoes belong to us because the branches are over our land.” he left me wondering under what category of justice I should classify this.
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Where am I?
When you have malaria for the first time, you dread having it again. But if you have had it more than three times, it becomes ordinary: you begin to play with it not knowing by doing so you are courting more troubles. That was how it happened. Thinking it will be over tomorrow, on the third day, it got much worse. Semi conscious, my fellow priest brought me to the Holy Family Hospital. I could hear the voice of a Sister commanding her nurses, “quick, quick...” Late in the morning I was awakened by strange gurgling noise, the splash of water, and the cries of babies. I mumbled to my nurse, “Where am i?” At the maternity ward,” said she with squeals of delight.
By: Fr. Joseph Panabang, SVD
A longing Invades the Heart
You can take the Filipino out of the Philippines but not the Philippines out of the Filipino, says the cover page of Fr. Ben Carreon’s JOKE ONLY. Living outside the Philippines, we the Filipino missionaries, priest, sisters and brothers finds this truth a brutal reality. As a stranger working in a foreign country where you are the only obruni koko (foreigner) in a black community, the longing to be with co- Filipinos at times invades your heart so strongly that you cannot help from wanting it. For this reasons, once a year, in the second week of Easter, in particular, all of us Filipino priest, sisters, brothers (with Filipino lay people working here in Ghana invited) gather for a reunion that lasts usually four days. We call this reunion UMIPIG - Ugnayan ng mga Misyonerong Pinoy sa Ghana (at Toga din)
Unworthy Vehicles
In Ghana you have to register your car every year at the Ministry of Transportation for road worthiness. After I registered they asked me to pay four thousand “cedis” (local money). I complained that it was too expensive. But they assured me the money was for road repair, to which I replied, “The road may soon be worthy but the cars would not.” At this the fierce looking face of the registrar melted into a smile like clouds giving way to the rising sun.
