By: Leticia Bartolome, ICM

Looking for Flowers
“When you live amid rocks the heart is bound to cry out for flowers.” The source of the quotation is a Benedictine nun who wrote in poetry about the “rocks” of everyday life. I met the passage almost twenty years ago when I newly-arrived missionary in Hong Kong, and have always liked it. I was determined not to remain “crying out flowers” but to look for flowers in Hong Kong, literally and figuratively.

Concrete Jungle
To live in Hong Kong is to live on rocks, on granite. In its early days it had been describe as “a barren rock,” a barren island with hardly a house upon it”. Today, commercial buildings, high rise apartments, fly-overs, subways, bridges and tunnels have the once barren rock into a concrete jungle wherein almost seven million people live and do business. Presently more than ninety thousand of these are Filipinos.

City of Joylessness
Hong Kong is a wealthy place, and it continues to prosper. Yet life seems to become harder. It has been called a “City of Joylessness”. Just like any other progressive place it has its own share of moral and social problems: broken homes, suicide, mental and psychological breakdowns, to name only a few, In our apostolic involvements ICM-HK tries to bring Christ’s message of hope, joy and love. We are in the field of catechetics, in parishes, in education, in medical socio-pastoral services.

Flowers in People
My heart “cried out for flowers”. I found them in people and in places where help was needed, whether it’s living with wayward teenaged girls, in teaching, in the parish choir, or with the group of Filipino migrant workers. Presently I am the warden of a home for twenty five mentally handicapped women and men with ages ranging from sixteen to fifty.

Flowers of a Lifetime
Last may, 1992 I celebrated the silver Jubilee of my religious profession with my thirty day retreat. I had a great time gathering together the flowers I have found and have receive from people and events. How these flowers have influenced my life! Friendships, courage, love, patience... and many more. They abound in this “City of Joylessness” if only we would open our eyes and heart. Even in our “convent” on the eight floor apartment in a block near the Hong Kong International Airport, surrounded by other blocks, “Flowers” are there giving joy. I thank God for them.

Disturbing Questions
One day two staff members suddenly feel ill. They could not come to work and had to take a leave. “Sister, can you please step in and help us bath Chin Wah”, called one attendant.

Chin Wah
Chin Wah was a mentally disabled person in her late twenties, weighing more than two hundred pounds. She crawled in a crab-like manner when she wanted to move independently. Since the home facilities were not made for people with disabilities like hers, she remained lying in the bathroom floor waiting for us to give her attention and care. She was very weak and vulnerable. I watch her as the attendants prepared for the bath. I struggled within my self: “Why, oh why do you not yet take to heaven people like this, my God? Why are they still here in such a condition?” A soft voice within my heart spoke: “To teach you to be kind and patient. To show you many other values in life”. To make you appreciate simple blessings in your own life”. These words used to have meaning for me, this time they were empty. More Struggle within: “Why should I be a better person at the expense of others?”

More Questions
The questions remained long after our “heavyweight” CHIN WAH had left. She was with us on a two week respite care to give her parents days of rest and recreation. I started feeling sad while at work, pensive at the sight of persons with disabilities. No answer pierced the dark clouds of my questions: as long as I see myself as a giver, or as receiver I will not be fully happy where I am.

Memorable Day
A day will never forget- The Feast of All Souls. The priest celebrating our community Mass, oblivious of what happening within me, spoke of death as an “equalizer”  which everyone will meet, no one poorer at its face. The answer pierced the dark clouds of my question: as long as I see myself as a giver, or as receiver I will not be fully happy where I am.

To Live with Love
God has called me to Hong Kong to live with persons who are my sisters and brothers. No one more important than the other, not even me with “my services” to disabled people. I am called to live life with others and savor God’s graces in its beauty even in its imperfections.

“Why should I be a better person at the expense of others?”

 

By Fr Joseph Panabang SVD

Twin Salmon
I took the wife of our Church President back to the village from the maternity clinic. She gave birth to twins. At the village the people came running to welcome us. I raised my hands and gestured they are twins. Then i got out, took the two big Salmon fish I had brought for the new mother, raised them up to the people and said; “here they are”. All of them stopped aghast, and then  they burst out laughing. Even the mother has to wait for the laughter to fade away before getting out of the car.

Twi or English
Srs. Lourdes and Flora, Fr. Victor and I were in Accra at the Bus Stop Barbecue. They sent me to order for. Back at thee table I was telling hem proudly how I made the order speaking in full Twi, local language. no English. After sometime the order came which caught me by a surprise. It was nine barbecues not four, Sr. Lourdes complained and the bar boy told her that I ordered nine and even said I in English. There upon Fr. Victor who knows Twi very well exploded in laughter. In Twi, ENNAN (pronounced ‘and nigh’) mans four but to the bar boy I must have pronounced it”... and nine”. The two Sisters who had had previously decided not to eat were forded to share the neat. A blessing in disguise.

More Dreams
Still on the wonder of dreams; my fever was very high but somehow I manage to sleep. In my dreams I saw three people in a king of a big competition knocking out easily their numerous opponents one after the other. then I woke up. It was five in the morning to be exact. Who could those three people be? Could it be the Trinity? Could it be the three of us in the parish? I tried all kinds of possible interpretations. When finally I remembered, I took three tablets of Fancidar for malaria before I crawled to bed. Unmistakably, they were the three people knocking out all the malaria parasites because that morning, I started to get well. Also, I discovered Fancidar works better with than Chloroquin.  Dreams, I think at times could also be medium of a divine message. Or, forgive me if I am just another Joseph the dreamer.

At the height of my malaria under the tender loving care of Sr. Lourdes Pilapil, RVM all my dreams were about dead people especially my deceased parents and relatives. Afraid, I asked Sr. Lourdes to take picture of me for it seemed the end was nigh. I heard her calling two of her students who were doing their practicum in cookery. When the picture was develop, much to my surprise, the two cooks in the white uniform were exactly like nurses.

 By: Fr. Victor Bunanig, SVD

Fr. Victor Bunanig, SVD has been a missionary in Indonesia for almost thirty two years now.

Island of flowers
Flores is an island in the central Indonesian Archipelago. Its area is 14,000 sq. km. with a population of about 1,500,000. The island has the name “Palau Bunga”: island of Flowers. Beyond this literary nickname the isle is a land of Sylvan and volcanic mountains. Above all Flores id “Flowers” of the faith, 80% Catholic. In Church administration Flores is divided into three Dioceses. After seventy five (75) years of evangelization, it now sends Priest and Brothers and Sisters as Missionaries all over Indonesia and abroad.

Earthquake
On December 12, 1992 at 05,.29, Floreneses (Flores-folk) shuddered and yelled out: “Kami ada” (We are present, the island’s traditional shriek during an earthquake) Flores folklore tells us there is a great –Being propping the earth underneath. The great Beings gets wrongs information that the land on the surface is no longer inhabited. He lets go His hold on the earth. It quakes.  So the people yell: Kami ada!” to tell the Being this land is inhabited.

Devastated
At that moment Flores trembled in terrifying convulsions for what seemed an everlasting moment. In less than a minute decades of material achievements were devastated. Almost two-thirds of the island was in a shambles. Following the big shock tsunami waves more than seven meters high surged hundreds of meters in land laying everything waste in their wake.

A National Concern
The earthquake was declared a National Catastrophe. All of Indonesia and many other symphonizing Nations came to our aid most generously. In human suffering there seems to be much more than meets the eye. The tragedy cooled much of the bigotry up to now experienced by the Christian of Flores from the Muslim majority.

We Shall Rise Anew
By an accident of Nature the little known island of Flores was in worldwide focus. The ruined island became a land inflowing with material goods from all over the world. But what caught my attention most was the woman who rose up and prayed: “we, the Florenses people, are proud to have suffered this calamity. We grieved but are not depressed. We are dispossessed but are not beaten. We are set back but do not back out. We shall rise anew. Maranatha! The Lord comes! Faith against Fate.

By: Fr. Rudy Fernandez, SJ

Fr. Rudy Fernandez is the first Society of Jesus (SJ) Pinoy missionary in Japan. He came to Japan in 1955. He was ordained after theological studies in Tokyo in 1962. He is presently teaching English and religion at the Jesuit high school in Hiroshima, Hiroshima Gakuin. One of his missions is advising and marrying young people in love.

Kyoko
Kyoko spent her junior and senior high school years- from twelve to eighteen- in Hiroshima jogakuin, a Protestant girl’s school in the city. She became acquainted with the Bible and Christian hymns and came to love them there. She was not a Christian herself, but that did not make her a rarity. Most of her fellow students were not Christian either. Buddhist and indifferent, mostly; typical of the student population of most Christian schools in Japan, more popularly known as mission schools. During those six she came to me with her friend Yukiko once a week to learn practical, conversational English.

Back Home
After graduating from jogakuin, she studied piano at the Toho College of Music in Tokyo. After she finished her course there, she came home to Hiroshima and teaches at Hijiyama Girl’s School and at a Yamaha Music classroom. She also teaches private piano lesson at home. She came again weekly for English with me.

Blind Date
Her younger sister got married. In traditional Japan the older always goes foist, but Kyoko was hardly giving marriage a thought. Suddenly one day, however, she told me she was having a “miai”- a date arranged by a third party, with the prospect of marriage between the dating partners.

Getting Married
The date was successful. Kyoko and her date, Kazuhiko, found themselves compatible. They dated more to get to know each other better. After a couple of months she came to me with all smiles telling me Kazuhiko had proposed and they were getting married. That was in December, 1991 and the weeding would be  in March, 1992.

Marriage
Marriages are expensive affairs in Japan, very expensive. The weeding ceremony and the weeding banquet, with the latter taking most of lime light, are usually a package deal at some bid hotel.

 

Christian Wedding
A couple of weeks before the wedding day Kyoko came with a very worried look on her face. She hesitantly asked if she could asked a favor of me She and her fiancé had just been to the hotel where the wedding was to take place to see just where and how the ceremony would be held. When shown the room and told the ritual, she almost burst into tears. How could she get married with out the bible and hymns and chapel atmospheres featuring in the ceremony? Her fiancé knew little about Christianity but understood and respected her feelings. The favor she wanted to asked was: could they have the wedding in our chapel with a Christian ceremony even though they were not Christian and were not connected with the school? As far as the connections were concerned, I said our friendship is enough was connection enough, As for the ceremony in the chapel, I said, first you and Kazuhiko and I will have to have a good talked about the Christian ideal of marriage and  the Christian concept of life and love.

Words on Love
And so it was that on March 20, 1992, Kyoko and Kazuhiko were married in our chapel. Kyoko’s jogakuin classmates played the organ and sang the hymns endeared to them in their teens. She chose Paul’s words on love in I Corinthians for the reading, and on hat I preached the homily.

Yoko
Yoko was one of my students at the City Youth Center, where I teach English to working young people. She came to class on her big motorcycle almost always in jeans. One day after class I asked her why she called me “Shimpusama” (meaning Father) when all her classmates called me “Sensei” (meaning Teacher). She told me she finished her junior high school at Notre Dame Girls’ School and had heard me give a talk there. At the end of junior high, however, she decided  that the Sister strict regimen and he kind of high life she wanted to live did not jibe, so she transferred to another school. Her parents were not happy over it. She had a job as an interior decorator now. She had always liked English in school, and she was thinking of going abroad, so she was enrolled in my evening classes. That was in 1989.

Going Abroad to Work
At the end of the one year course she went to work in Tokyo. We kept in touch by mail. After a year she decided to go on to the states to study. She came back to Hiroshima to bid her family and friends goodbye. We had a long talk. She was an adventurous spirit. She had always been special to me. Where most young people were just toeing the line, she was non-conformist. While to flit thoughtlessly through life, she seemed to be searching for something. I kidded her saying you’ll find your Prince Charming over there and you may not be coming. She looked at me seriously and said almost sternly: I’m coming back because you are going to be at the altar for my wedding!

 

 

A Prophet
I turned out t o be a prophet. She met a young man named Jan in California. Their interest in each other become serious. He proposed marriage. She said she had one condition: the wedding should be in Hiroshima and her friend Fr. Fernandez would officiate at the ceremony. Jan loved her more than enough to argue.

Against Inter Racial Marriage
But there was a big obstacle. Her parents were against and inter racial marriage. Non-conformist though she was. Yoko did not want to venture into marriage with out the blessing of her parents. She phoned me long distance to tell me she was coming back as soon as she could and asked me to talk to her parents and correspond with Jan in the meanwhile.

Won her Parents Consent
I talked with her parents. Yoko came back. There was a family meeting. With her sister and brother supporting her, she won her parents consent. Then Jan came to Hiroshima. He won over all the family over with his quit and reserve and consideration. Jan is not a member of any Church denomination, but he was taught me more about the will and providence of God than I have ever taught anyone about that.

Genesis Story of Creation
And so it was word I officiated at her wedding, which took place in our chapel on September, 1991. For the reading at ceremony Yoko chose the Genesis story of creation. In her own simple way she said: marriage is just one chapter in the bigger story of creation; and God did not create Americans or Japanese. He created human beings female and male in God’s image and likeness. I borrowed her exegesis for my homily. There were two non-Japanese at the wedding: the groom and the priest

Keep Coming Back
Kyoko and Yoko’s cases are not rare. While the number of baptisms proceeds slowly, the main missionary work of sowing the seeds of the gospel goes on space. Many former students f mission school come back and ask for a Christian ceremony and blessing when the time comes for them to make the most important decision of their young lives. Invariably they drawn and touched by the Christian wording of the marriage vows. Christian or not, but with a Christian background, deeply in love, “for better or for worse” is better for them. And so they come back. Or is it, come home?

 

By: Fr. Romy Cagatin, SVD

Different but The same

I have been in Benin for a little more than a year. After having been formed in our in our beloved country, the Philippines, for the past 28 years, being here “undresses” or “de-construct”, they say, all our own cultural paradigms. In the beginning I was a bit naïve to believe that there is not much difference between me and our African sisters and brothers. The longer I am here the more I realize that we differ to a great extent in many things. It is wrong to say though, that we are completely different from each other. People keep me calling me before (Whiteman). It hurts me, honestly speaking.

African-ness
Recently, a young man was ordained priest, in spite of the fact that his mother practices traditional religion, while his father is a Muslim. Never heard in the Philippines? Or does that African way is not our way (Mt. 16:23). Entering into their culture whilst preserving my “Filipino-ness” and their “African-ness” is not at all an easy process.

Africans become more African
We often talk of “inculturation.” Inculturation is not to change the customs and tradition of the people. Certainly, it is more than translating liturgical rites into their local language. It is, they say, ‘discovering Christ in a particular culture.” Evangelization then is more than the preaching of the Christian faith, otherwise inculturation becomes an expression. Christianity should, therefore, make the Baribas more baribas, the Lokpas more lokpas, Africans more African just as Christ by becoming man has made us more human. A Christian does not exist in the abstract. An African, a Filipino, an Indian, an Irish Christian does. It goes without saying that I have still many things to learn. I’m but just a “novice-missionary”.

No Profit
An Indian businessman asked me one day, “Why are you wasting your time in Benin”? Instead of arguing with him I tried to understand him (he’s a Hindu). For him the reason why he’s here in Benin is very clear-i.e. to do business. In my case (all missionaries for that matter) I don’t receive any salary, no profit to gain seems to him a big mystery. Well, wasting time with our African sisters and brothers because of Christ is not bad at all. Just like all missionaries, I felt our cherished Motherland not far from any other reason except Christ. He is the “raison de’etre” of us all. We become the slave of all because of Him (1 Cor9:19ff). “A missionary”, said, “should not expect any reward, if he does a missionary but a mercenary.” We are but useless servants, we only have done our duty (Lk. 17:10). I have met and talked to seasoned missionaries in Benin. Some of them have become thin and gaunt with deep wrinkles. The brown blotches tropical sun brings are evident. Everything about them is old except their eyes cheerful and undefeated. I wish I could be the same.
People, keep on calling me “batore” (Whiteman). It hurts me, honestly speaking.

An Indian businessman asked me one day, “Why are you wasting your time in Benin?”

By: Fr. Eduard Orilla, MSP

“Where on earth are the Solomon Islands?” Such a reaction is the usual follow up inquiry of friends upon hearing and knowing about Solomon Islands. But in order not to give you any additional school or home work, dear readers, Solomon Islands are located somewhere in the Central Pacific Island below Papua New Guinea and Bougainville. There are 900 islands comprising the Solomons and are full of exceedingly beautiful lagoons, white and silver beaches, undenuded forest, coral reefs and clear see water. Some of the islands are volcanic, however.

The Solomon Islanders live along the coastal areas, their houses made of palm leaves. They speak a musical language GARI (sounds familiar?). Their primary foodstuffs are ‘kamote’ and fish most of the time. There is no ricefields nor corn field. They do not consider rice as part of their daily meal nor a necessity for existence. They rarely eat rice –if they have the money to buy and if there is imported rice from Australia or New Zealand rice serves as a dessert for them! At times they go hunting and catch wild pigs, wild birds and crocodiles for meat. They have little very little money or none at all, (they do not need money anyway), but they are very rich. They own the land, the sea, the lagoon, the environment. If they need food they just go to the sea, lagoon or river, and catch fish, lobster or prawns just name it and they have it in abundance; or they just go their gardens in the bush and dig kamote, cassava or any other kind or root crops, vegetables and fruits. For cloths they prefer to be topless and they use bahag. They do not use home appliances either, such as television, radio, refrigerators and the like because there is no electricity in the islands and villages.
Among the very memorable experiences in my missionary life in the Solomon Island was my first sea travel to the Island riding in a speedboat and the islanders manner of welcome and reception when I first arrived. It took almost four hours of sea travel from Guadalcanal’s main island to the islands, gliding at times on smooth and gentle ripples but at other times being splashed by rough waves because of strong winds and the  nearby coral reefs. Now and then there were strong currents coming from the mouth of big rivers and the natural whirlpools. Before the ride to the islands I was jokingly warned to say my Act of Contrition to keep my mouth shut.

The beauty and the contour of the hills, mountains, island and beaches were exceeding amazing It was just too good to be true before my naked eyes. Rainbows appeared on the splashes of water coming from the speeding boats when the rays of the morning sun fell on it. But all the way it was not smooth sailing. Because we were traveling on the open sea, big and rough waves collided with the speed boats a and I firmly clasped my Rosary beads, so much more when the boat began to swerve and seemingly flew and  dived and bumped as if to break down. Eventually completely drenched and teary eyed with the salt water, the speedboat pilot with a pregnant smile on his face pointed his finger to a island.

We reached the shore and anchored near the crystal-clear lagoon. Suddenly I heard whistles, horns blowing and shouting. To my surprise, warrior-like-people people emerged from behind the branches of trees while from nowhere others appeared carrying spears, bows, arrows and shields. They were running, leaping and shouting at the same time pointing and thrusting their weapons at me. “This is a fresh catch direct-from the Philippines!” they seemed to say. I would have run back to the boat if I did not notice some of them smiling. Those mysterious smiles assured me I was in God’s hands. Coming from nowhere, the islanders emerged, while young girls gracefully approached me with multi colored garlands and flowers in their hands. I noticed that the flowers in their hands. I noticed that the flowers strewn along my footpaths were orchids of diverse colors. “Kanugon!” I silently commented. Then they sung a hymn which I could not understand.

The islander were all there standing, wondering, staring at me which almost melted me, (if stares could melt!). Then came the elders slightly bowing their heads while reaching out and kissing my hands. They were followed by ladies dressed in blue- the local Daughters of Mary Immaculate sister. Then came the young people, with the boys on the left side and the girls on the right. They are shook my hands and later and later walked in procession with me to the newly built church accompanied by a group of local panpipers. This islander had not seen a priest for years and some of them were not yet baptized even in their late age a I later learned.

Slowly but surely I learned to speak their language, to live their lifestyle, to eat their food, to sing their songs, to play their games.

Certainly missionary life is tough. Very tough! But for those who are called and willing to offer and spend their lives, there is no better way. I for one, among many missionaries who have been and are still in the missionfield have learned to love the mission. Indeed to “go and proclaim the gospel to all nations” (Mark 16: 15) is worth dying for. Where I am sent becomes home. I am willing “to gladly spend myself and be sent.”

 

By: Fr. Ernesto Amigleo, CICM

Land of Many Faiths
My name is Fr. Ernesto Amigleo, I am a CICM missionary lining in Indonesia- a country of many faiths but predominantly Muslim. In recent years I have been working close to Muslim community and have got to know them and their big feast deep well.

Idul Fitri
Idul Fitri Day for our Muslim sisters and brothers is a red letter day.. Last year it fell on March 25, 1993. it is a day when they blessed with “original holiness” (fitra), after thirty days of obligatory fasting or Ramadan.

14 hour Fast
During the fasting month our Muslim sisters and brothers do not eat or drink from four o’clock in the evening. This month is a time not only of curbing one’s passion’s and desires, but also of intense meditation, of  looking inward into one’s past life being, of being sorry for one’s sin’s and of deepening one’s faith. They believe that this Holy month of Ramadan is a graced event because it is the time that they are cleansed of all their sins in the past and therefore, a time when they are truly reconciled with Allah (God).

Day of Reconciliation
Idul Fitri is a celebration of great joy-joy because of the fact that Allah has forgiven all their sins, which calls for a truly communal celebration. At sunrise, dressed in their best suits they gather in big number either in an open field or a mosque to pray to Allah- a scene inspiringly beautiful and deeply touching. After the prayer service they shake hands or embrace one another, asking for peace and total forgiveness from one another for all their past faults and mistakes. The whole atmosphere breathes joy peace, and reconciliation and it awakens in them a deep sense of solidarity and sister and the Brotherhood. Then throughout the day they celebrate it by visiting one another, offering peace and reconciliation. This day is extended to the following day in the same spirit of joy and feast.

I Too Ask Forgiveness
It is on such occasion as this that I as Filipino Christian missionary, take advantage of this beautiful event by visiting my Muslim neighbors in the parish, by showing my solidarity with them. By reaching out to them, shaking hands and asking forgiveness from the elders, I try to bring home the idea that even us we differ in religious beliefs, we can be sisters and brother under the same Fatherhood of Allah who is merciful and kind towards all. It is in this same spirit that Christian all over part of the world visit their Muslim relatives, neighbors or friends to participate in the celebration.

Salamat
Idul Fitri, for me, as a Christian is a time to manifest and to deepen our sense of family and solidarity with our Muslim sisters and brother. It is a time to reach out, to extend hands in congratulations and to ask for total forgiveness inwards and outwards and to say: “Salamat Idul Fitri, Maaf lahir bathin.”

Note:
In my previous article entitled “I choose Indonesia” printed on Nov-Dec, 1991 issue, I have mixed up Lebaran for Muslim fasting and Ramadan for Muslim feast of Idul Fitri. It should rather be Lebaran for the Feast of Idul Fitri and Ramadan for fasting. My sincere apology.
 

 

By Fr. Wens Padilla, CICM

In a unique event in modern history the Vatican was asked by newly-freed Mongolia to send missionaries. It is a credit to the CICM’s that they were chosen to go and a credit to all Filipino missionaries. Fr. Wens Padilla was chosen to head the team of three. Wens has been in Taiwan and featured in Misyon before.

A Dream Becomes a Reality
MONGOLIA was not a “dream mission” for me when I entered the Congregation of the Immaculate Heart of Mary (CICM) knowing that what was related to Mainland China and the Autonomous Region of Inner Mongolia, where our first CICM missionaries did mission work, has long been wiped. It was wiped out as a CICM mission field and priority after our last European confreres came into my dream- screen, catching me unawares, on April 1992 when I got my nomination that I was chosen as one of the members of the first CICM team to come to Mongolia. I was then in the Philippines still grieving at the death of my father at whose funerals I officiated on January 10, 1992, our team of three missionaries landed at the Ulaan Baatar International Airport.

Starting from Scratch
It has already been more than a year since, and my confrere-companions are here in Mongolia. Our mission is to establish a Catholic Church Presence in this non-Christian nation which doesn’t have any local Catholics. We really had to start from the scratch and we didn’t have any church structure to enter into or depend on. For us this meant that we had to do things on our own. It was really a new beginning for the three of us who were a bit spoiled by the convenience and luxury of the former missions we had come from: Robert Goessens (a Belgian) in Japan for 37 years; Fr. Gilbert Sales (a Filipino) in Hong Kong for three years; and myself (a Filipino) in Taiwan for 15 years. We plunged ourselves into all sorts of house chores we were not familiar with, like cleaning and furnishing our apartments, marketing or shopping, cooking our meals, washing our dirty laundry and the like. It was a struggle to survive from the very beginning. However, though we are still in the same situation at the present time, those chores have now become familiar and routinary to our daily life.

Hospitality in the Tent house
Our adaptation to the Mongolian reality, though difficult in many respects, was smooth. We are still in the process though! Each Day, we learn something new about this unique country and its people. Visiting the vast steppers with livestock grazing on them is alluring and eye soothing. The countryside offers mind-freshness and tensions-relief. The people are simple and kind, especially when you make friends with them. And though they are poor and wanting in many material necessities, they give the best hospitality to any visitor who comes into their “ger” (Tent House). They have high hopes that their lot will get better with the new economic changes (privatization process and market economy) and with the newly sworn government administration led by its re- elected president.

Not an Easy Language
One of the frustrating challenges in our integration to this country is the language. The language of Genghis Khan is not an easy language to learn. It is almost a year now since we started our lessons and we are not at ease yet with its strange buzzing sounds. It will take us some more months of hard study and practice before we become fluent in it. It is with this reason that we are not engaged yet in any missionary project to give more time to our language courses.

Thirty Degrees Below
Talking about the weather, one hears about the harsh and bitter Mongolian winters. It could really be depressing and isolating but we survive our first winter without too much ado. With lots of courage and determination we stood nose diving temperature that reached 30 degrees Celsius that at the end a -10 degrees Celsius to 15 degrees Celsius had already become normal for us. It was not so bad after all, and thanks to centralized heating system (that fails once in a while) the apartments didn’t turn into freezers.

Papal Nuncio Arrives
If there is anything significant that we have achieved so far with regard to our purpose of being here in the past years, we could only say that, “FINALLY THE CATHOLIC CHURCH IS NOW PRESENT IN THE PEOPLE’S REPUBLIC OF MONGOLIA”. With the coming of the Papal Nuncio, His Excellency Most Rev. John Bulaitis, to present his credential to the Mongolian president, we gained more confidence as to our stability. April 9, 1992, GOOD FRIDAY, has become for the Church here a crucial moment, a special concession in the Vatican- Mongolian relations as the Nuncio and the president exchanged mutual support and assistance between the two nations. This event on this significant day is symbolic of the seed dying to come forth to life.

Small Christian Communities
And was we carry on, we are energized and inspired by the small  community of around thirty people that we are now have for Sunday Liturgy. Although most of these are expatriates working in the embassies, international organizations, and factories, we are hopeful, our number will increase in the days to come. The seed was sown and it has to grow. As matter of fact, as a small group of catechumens has already started. The lessons are given with the help of a translator. There are five of them at present and they also join us now for the Sunday Masses. This brings to eight the Mongolians attending our liturgies. The three others are friends we have.
So, Dear Readers, with a bit more of your prayers and support, we hope that God’s Kingdom also becomes a reality among our Mongolian sisters and brothers. Till here, and if you want to be  in touch or hear some more about us, keep us posted with the following:

By: Sr. Docilia Pizzaro, FSP

The Birth of an Idea
Since last year, we the Filipinos working in Lahore, have gathered every two months. Fr. Pat Raleigh, a Columban, initiated this apostolate. In his going about, he used to meet Filipinos every now and then. So, he got the idea of gathering, asking where they live etc. Fr. Pat is a great friend of our community, he spoke to me and to one FMM, a Filipino too and one missionary of Charity (Mother Teresa) a Filipino, plus three Pinoys Columban lay missionary. He said, we must meet one day, and see if we can organize and gather these people for a Sunday mass and offer the chance of meeting each other.

Looking For A Place
So, he went around first and tried to locate where they live. Then for the First time we all gathered in the Columban House. Then their place turned out to be far from most of the Pinoys and difficult to find. Finally Fr. Pat spoke to our Sister Superior, if we could provide a place Sister said “Yes”. So, the following meeting we had it in our place.

Unfair Practice
Our Filipinos in Lahore (quite a member of them) work as domestic helpers. Very very few work among the foreigners, the majority work under the rich Muslims families. In Pakistan there is a classification of work. If for example you are a sweeper, you only sweep, if you are a cook, you only cook and so on. It is a very common practice that when a Filipino works in a rich Muslim family he can dismiss the other worker and leave only this Filipino to do all the work of the other, since she stays with the family the whole day.

Heartless Agents
When the Filipino comes to Pakistan to work through an agency, the majority end up illegal; they don’t sign any contact about the type of work. In other words, the Filipino are at the mercy of the rich Pakistani Muslim employers. It seems that the employer pays a certain amount to an agent and this agent gives the girl to them as a domestic helper while this Filipinos, in their desire to earn, accept everything with patience. I tell you they suffer a lot. Many of them complain of too much work, little rest and no free day. That’s why it very hard for us to gather them even for the Sunday mass. Even of food, they are given very little, so they easily get sick.

Away fro their Families
These Filipino are all married with families in the Philippines, but many are separated from their husbands, so they really sacrifice for the sake of their children. They are in very pitiful situations. A few of them work in good families. (Just two or three Filipinos are lucky enough to have a good employers). How can we dissuade Filipinos coming to Pakistan for work as domestic helpers? And they are like slaves in the hands of this rich Muslims people. They want them to work and work.
Time for Prayer
Last Easter 1992, there were around sixty Filipinos at Mass. After the Mass, we usually have a get together. I forgot to mention that in the beginning, we wrote a letter to allow them to come for prayers from two to seven p.m. But even this was hard for every two months only. I visited a few families and talked to them about the situation and the free day the time for prayer. In front of me they are nice and promised that they will send the girl for Sunday Mass, but when I go away it’s just the same situation.

The Real Problem
The Philippine embassy is aware of this problem. They are doing what they can. Also in Islamabad, there are quite a number of them. In Karachi too, there’s a lot. How shall we go about this situation? Can the Philippines government do something about this? How can this be stopped? Of course, the Philippines should provide work for them. This is the real problem.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

By: Fr. Boy Toledo

Fr. Boy Toledo and Fr. Frank Pintac are two of many priests who are giving a few years as a Volunteer Missionaries with the Columban Fathers.

Hidden Talent
Never did it occur to Fr. Frank Pintac, a Columban associate from the Diocese of Pagadian that he would be painting his way into the hearts of the Brazilian people in Barreiras.

Classmates
I and Frank were classmates in the seminary at REMASE Davao City. Both of us belonged to the art group. There he displayed exceptional talent in designing and letter cutting. As a priest for fifteen years in Pagadian Fr. Frank Pintac utilized his talent in his building construction and renovation. But he never ventured into panel painting or even oil painting on canvass.

New Mission
Frank volunteered for a new mission in the Diocese of Juazeiro, while waiting for the assignment to take effect he began to paint.

Extraordinary Work
Fr. Don Hornsy claimed to be instrumental in the flowering forth of Frank’s talent. Knowing that he made sketches at the language school for his Portuguese professors, Don requested Frank to paint the center panel of the altar in Baianopolis as well as the front and back panels of the Centro Paroquial. The results were marvelous. People around, even the visiting priest were amazed at his ability.

Featured in News
Fr. Noel Carey of Vila Brazil offered him a job to paint the altar of the newly constructed church of Vila Nova. Television people came and he was featured in one evening news.

Too Many Requests
Don Ricardo, the Austrian Bishop of Barreiras, requested him to paint the altar of the chapel of Sao Bento- the diocesan retreat house. Many of others made similar requests like Fr. Clarence Beckley, the Benedictine Sister and one Brazilian priest. Dom Itamar of Barra whom Frank met during retreat also invited him to his diocese.

Waiting with Joy
The delay in Frank’s assignment caused the flowering forth of his hidden talent. That’s the way it is on mission, the unknown ‘you’ comes to light. Why not think about it.

Fr. Frank’s First Painting Attempt “Boni Jesu Lopa”

 

By:  Fr. Thomas Gier, SOLT

A young Pilipino Missionary Group Starts from Scratch in Papua New Guinea.
Twenty years ago the Society of Our Lady of the Most Holy Trinity arrived in the Philippines. It has grown and prospered and has many seminarians and priest who are now going on mission out from the Philippines. Fr. Thomas Patrick Gier has led a group of Filipino priest to start from scratch a new mission in Papua New Guinea. With Fr. Tom is Fr. Gene Barbacena and Fr. Ferdie Samar. Also With them two Society of Our Lady of the Most Holy Trinity seminarians: Alvin Cayetano and Rey Grava. Here Fr. Tom tells one of their adventures.

Tribal Feud
One morning when returning to our mission by car from the town of Goroko we suddenly found ourselves in the middle of a tribal war. The place was Chavaw in the province of Chimbu. There are different tribes living in either side of the mountain stream which goes down under a stream which goes down under a bridge. A woman had been killed and her body thrown over the bridge. One tribe to whom the woman belonged accused the other tribe of murder. As we were waiting on highway, men came screaming down the mountain road toward the bridge from both directions. All the men from both tribes were tearing the galvanized roofing off the nearby houses to use these sheets as shields against arrows. Many old man came with their bows and arrows and spears past us.

War Correspondent!
A boy came rushing also. Of course, we were in danger because the two tribes were only interested in fighting each other. I asked two strong warriors passing if  I could take their pictures and they seemed delighted. I posed with them and they showed me how to fire the arrows. Their bows have a bamboo string and the arrows (all of hard wood) are not groove as an ordinary arrow would be... the objects seems to be to rain arrows down on your foes by shooting them high in air. You could not really aim at anyone with their bows and arrows unless you were very close.

Palticks and Pugakangs
There was another man watching us at the side with his coat wrapped around something. After the two left, he asked me if I took a picture of the men with their bows and arrows. I thought he was unhappy, but he was not. He said that he could show me something else to take a picture of. As Fr. Ferdie Samar was with me, he invited Ferdie just over a ridge where no one could see them. Then he unwrapped his home-made gun and proudly asked me to take his picture with Ferdie. Memories of Palticks and Pugakang at home in the Philippines.

 

 

I Prayed for Peace
While all this was going on, the tribes were firing arrows at each other and one could hear all the arrows striking the G.I. sheets, I really wanted to see the battle, but instead I felt it more important to return to my car and pray for peace between the warring tribes. Just then, we heard shots fired...I found out that these were probably shots in the air by the police who had just arrived. We could hear the spectators who watched the fight from a distance with theirs Ows! and Ahs! Just like it was a sport event! Next the police fired tire gas and the wind must have been coming toward us as all of us got it. After an hour or so, a truce was reached and we were still very mad at each other.

I am a Nun
One of our sisters here at the S.V.D. station where we have been stationed, was supposed to pick up the Mother General of her order who was flying into Mt. Hagen. This nun who is a nurse, was called to administer to a dying man just when she was to leave for our nearby airport, so she sent the handy man working at the convent to pick up the Italian nun. The driver obediently went to the airport where he approached the only nun who came off the plane. He asked her: “Yu Mother Lourdes” (in his best Pidgin English). She replied yes. Then, again in Pidgin, he replied: “Me kissim yu” (meaning in Pidgin...I will pick you up) She replied: “No you are not going to kiss me... I’m a nun!” Such in life in the mission!

Melpa Language
I give my sermon on Sundays in Pidgin English. Then, one of the church leaders translates it into Melpa with loud voice and many emotions. For every sentence I utter in the sermon, he translates into Melpa with ten sentences! My sermon does not loose anything in the translation...it gains ten-fold! Now my question is this... What is the translator saying in the other nine sentences in Melpa after he translate my one sentence into Melpa? If you know any Melpa experts (a language spoken by one-hundred thousand people just in our Mt. Hagen area), send them over so I can figure out what is being said!

Reconciliation
We will be in Holy Week in just one week. We have something special planned at our Ulga parish. In the past two years, over seventy tribal members (of our Ulga tribe and the Kulga tribe across the river) have killed each other; plus crops and houses have been burned, pigs killed etc. But there has been peace here for almost a year now and the leaders have broken the bows and arrows in reconciliation ceremony. To solidify that truce, we will have tribal leaders and their followers going in procession with crosses all throughout our two tribal areas, camping out along the trail sites in the mountains and singing God’s praises all the way. The processions will end on Easter day at the site of the bloodiest of the fighting two years ago. A beautiful tribute to man’s real desire to bring Christ into their lives and love and forgive as He did.