By Sr. Juana Maria OSB

‘Irma Wama’ is a strange name for a Filipino; it is the pet name which is the people of  Luanda, Angola, Africa, give Sister Juana Maria, a Benedictine Sister working among them as a missionary these past three years. Sr. Juana Maria is a dentist and, in her missionary works, uses her skills as a dentist as her way of bringing God’s love to the people. Of course, thing are not easy in Angola at the moment because, for the past 30 years or more, a war has been raging. But in the midst of this, as missionary like Sr. Juana Maria must struggle, on doing what she can.

Read on:

No Water/ No Antibiotics
One Friday, I was reluctant to give dental service in one of the remote villages, where the only source of water was a dirty lagoon eight kilometers away. I could afford to use only a little water for eight persons waiting for dental extraction. However, in spite of the fact that I had no antibiotics, no analgesics, all worked out well. I came to realized: “The Lord has a special eye for the poor.

No Suturing Needle
On another occasion, after multiple extractions, I realized that I did not have a suturing needle and thread, and so from among the people I procured ordinary sewing needles and was able to suture the wounds. On many occasions one has to use one’s creativity and resourcefulness.

No Dowel
Another amusing incident was when a missionary priest came one day to the house. By the way, it takes fully two hundred and two steps to reach our tenth- floor apartment without elevator. He wanted to have his “jacket thrown” (or porcelain cap) cemented, not realizing that it needs a dowel (a screw proper for teeth) to attach the crown firmly to the   roots. I was looking around, and since my dental room is also our sewing room and labanderia, I found some paper clips among the buttons, and those served as purpose admirably. They never told us this in dental school.

Century -Old Foot Drill
Everything is improvised: an ordinary chair, a pail for cuspidor and a century- foot drill. I’ve been amused at myself because I have managed to do many things which I never did before, just to respond to the dental needs of the patients.

Duco Cement
Even missionaries here learn how to help themselves, like the missionary sisters who presented her tooth to me cemented with Patex, which is the Angolan equivalent of duco cement!
A Pair of Sandals
Everything is free here. You know how they express their gratitude? In kind: vegetables, eggs, a slice of meat, a bottle of wine, a pair of sandals. How’s that? Enjoyable? These things give me a sensed of joy in receiving and giving and, most of all, I am repaid by their wonderful smile.

Of course Sr. Juana Maria does more than dentistry. She says, In the health ministry I have come to realize that it is not solely the medicines that I prescribe that heal many of my patient’s complaints but the greater part of healing comes from listening with sympathy to their problems, their pains, and suffering because of this civil war still going on, crying with them, feasting with them and touching with warmth and letting them feel my love and kindness.
Thanks to my experience of being a rural missionary before in Mindanao and of being a doctor of Dental Medicine. I am able to combine my knowledge of traditional, oriental and western ways of responding to health needs. So I use herbal cures or acupuncture, or acupressure, or core-energy and lately I have been learning pranic healing. These poor simple people, still in their mud houses, have strengthened my faith.”

A smile
That says
Minto Obrigada
Senhor!

A smile
That transcends
the back pain
from carrying all
the paraphernalia
up and down the
202 steps of our
building;

A smile
That erases
The tiredness
Of the whole job,
Cleaning all the mess
With a little amount
Of colored water;

A smile that understands
The words that come
From silence
From a woman who
Just points to where
 the pain is;
A smile
that forgets the stomach
that says it’s already 3:00 p.m.;

A smile
That teaches patience
And kindness;

A smile
That goes with the clapping of hands,
Kissing you upon
Arrival and departure;

A smile
Of joy, of love

Sr. Ching Madduma, ICM
Sarnath, Varanasi, U.P. India

The Lotus
Have you ever seen a “Kamal”? “Kamal” is a Hindu word for lotus, a beautiful flower that thrives in water. Because it is beautiful and symbolic, many people would like to have the name Kamal. Parents would like to name a son or a daughter Kamal or Kamala.

They called Him Kamal
Such was the case with a Khurmi couple named Kallu and Jarauti. They called their first born child Kamal. The child was a boy, and so the joy of the family was doubled. Kamal’s parents are poor and illiterate. In spite of the poverty, Kamal was cared for and loved. The family had much hope and many dreams about this promising healthy, good looking baby boy, until he was eight months old.

Possessed?
According to the mother and the grandmother, when Kamal was about eight months old, contracted a high fever, suffered convulsions, and become unconscious for a months. Relatives of the family thought the child was possessed and so was referred to a “pujari” (prayer leader) to perform “puja” (prayer). Local medicine was given to the child, but he was never referred to a medical doctor. Kamal became very weak, but he started walking very slowly at the age of two years.

Accident
When he was three years old, he feel from an auto- rickshaw and his head was badly injured. The pujari advised the parents that Kamal should wear a steel bracelet and an anklet to help cure him. Until today, the boy still wears these ornaments.

Chained and Locked
Eventually, the same bracelet and anklet were used by the family to chain and lock him in order to keep him home, because Kamal tented to loiter around and did not come back home by himself.

Brain Damage
Physically Kamal is strong; he walks and runs like any other normal boy. But he did not grow up to be a mentally normal person. He has brain damage to some degree.

 

Tied to Post
Kamal was about four years old when I first met him about eight years ago, in a village near Sarnath. He was dirty and naked. He was tied to a post under the house. His feet were chained. Often he had been left alone in the house in this condition when the family members went out for casual work. He had learned to move around like animal-like and was able to climb up and down fearlessly anywhere and everywhere. His parents were frightened and there was no one to look after the boy, especially when the adults had to go out to work in the fields.

Living with the Animals
In the same place, in smelly and dirty surroundings, tethered besides him were buffaloes and cows. From the beginning he had acquired the habits of these animals- in eating drinking, defecating and even, at times, in walking.

Did not Learn to Talk
Though he could hear and could make sounds, he never learned to talk. He did not look at anyone and he always bent his head forward. He closed his eyes when one spoke to him, or called his attention. He learned to smile only at a later age.

World of his Own
He seemed to be unaffected by what was happening around him. He did not recognize people in his own family. In other words, Kamal lived in a world of his own.

Lost Hope
Kamal parents lost hope in him. They got tired of looking after him. They were frustrated.
One day, Kamal’s mother went to search for him everywhere. After finding him scavenging she gave him a severe beating. Out of anger and frustration, she left the house with her other children and told him not to come back home anymore.

Only Grandma Cared
Because Kamal happened to be different, needing much time and energy, his parents gave more attention and care to the other children, a younger brother and two sisters. It was only the grand mother who patiently cared for him. Kamal had lost his parents’ love and affection. In fact, he was rejected almost from the time of the accident.

No Longer a Lotus
His name was now changed from Kamal to “Pagal” which means crazy. He was called this by his family members themselves, by the people in the neighborhood, by the community and by anyone who met and saw him. Everyone though he was a hopeless case, “good for nothing”, “crazy”… they said.

 

Not his Fault
But Kamal remained to be human being with the same needs, the same rights, the same dignity, the same yearning for respect, love affection and acceptance as anyone else. He had become handicapped through no fault of his own.

Took him Home
On day I ask his parents to bring Kamal each day for an hour or two to our house so that we could bathe him, put on cloths and remove the chains from his feet. The following day his uncle brought Kamal, with high hopes and expectation for a miracle to happen – for Kamal to be well again! What a difference and joy to see Kamal looking like a person! He looked clean and held on to his uncle’s hand, having a twig in his other hand.

The Twig
It seemed he preferred to carry a twig rather than to wear clothes or even at times to eat. Later I tried to substitute toys for the twig but eventually he would reach for the twig. It looked as if he wanted to identify himself with special objects and in these objects he found some dense of security.

Kamal is First Student
In 1981, I began the first educational unit in the care of persons with a mental handicapped. Kamal became my first student. He was about four years old then.

Bedroom as Classroom
I was using my own small bedroom as my classroom. Kamal got used to my room and to our compound so much that every time he had escape from home, it was here he took refuge.

Fear of Water
One time he appeared naked, dirty, covered with mud, and had uprooted flower plant in his hand. Seeing him, immediately wanted to wash and bathe him, but he strongly refused, screaming frightened of the water.

Gentle Initiation
The next day Kamal came again- dirty, naked, feet chained and with the bunchful of uprooted flower plants and twig. I noticed him staring at a drum full of water. He seemed to be fascinated by his own image in the water. Slowly I opened the faucet. With eyes full of wonder, he looked intently as the water flowed from the tap to the drum. Holding his hand in mine, I made him try to open and closed the faucet which later on he enjoyed doing. Slowly I poured the water on his feet and body and finally bath him without difficulty.

 Kamal came Back
Early the following morning Kamal escaped from home and came again. I saw him enjoying his bath under the tap inside the bathroom. I helped him to bath and after some time I closed the faucet. But he cried and creamed inside my room and became so angry that he urinated and defecated in my room. Together with him we had to clean my room with water. That was the initial step in the taming training of Kamal

 

Many Filipinos go to Japan for work. They go as dancers or entertainers or as domestic helpers. Now a different reason is moving some Filipino to go Japan. They are following the footsteps of St. Lorenzo Ruiz and going on lay mission with the Philippine (Catholic) Lay Mission Program.

Read On:

Lory and Cely
Lory Antonio and Cely Reyes are among the lay missionaries who set out from the Philippines for the diocese of Chiba, Japan, there to work with Bishop Paul Mori and his priests by doing something for the Filipino immigrants. But first let us look back at the history of Christianity in Japan.

A Trial by Fire
Christianity was brought to Japan in 1549 by the Spanish Jesuits missionary, St. Francis Xavier. But the Shogunate prohibited the practice of Christianity, and towards the end of the 6th century a full scale systematic persecution of the faith begun.

Condemned to Die
A samurai by the name of Nakajima Choobie, who had faithfully served Lord Todo for two years, was accused of being a Christian. Admitting this “crime” and refusing to abandoned his faith he was condemned to die. Similarly another samurai named Namazue was discovered to be Christian. He and his family and servants all met the same faith.

Lorenzo
In 1637 our St. Lorenzo Ruiz suffered similar case in Nagasaki, Japan. The former sacristan from Binondo, while remaining so ordinary and simple a man even in his martyrdom, saw the needed not the answer of man but the answer of His God, and he chose to abide by his will.
And to this simple, yet unknown layman was given the divine strength to answer…

“I am a Christian,
and this I profess
until the hour
of my death;
and for God,
I shall give my life.”

And thus was born to this only Catholic country in Asia her first Filipino saint.

 

Trouble with Visas
In the spirit of responding to the Christ’s call, Cely and Lory were sorely tried when their visa applications for entry into Japan were denied. Some said the reason was that there was not a clearly defined category of “Lay Missioners in the Japanese Immigration Law; for others, the reason concerned internal Japanese policies. Regardless of the reason, the entry of our two PLMPers, Lory Antonio and Cely Reyes, was a “trial by fire “as they were delayed entry into Japan for over a year.
Nevertheless, with the help of Bishop Paul Mori and the Maryknoll Fathers and many other people such as Fr. Denis Curran, a Columban missionary,  and with continues support  of the PLMP, they have begun the missionary work in Japan.

By Sr. Judith Malon OSA

The Mission: many of us have seen the stirring film, “The Mission.” The movie opens with Jesuits Fr. Gabriel climbing a waterfall where the hostile Indians live. He arrives exhausted; he takes out his flute and begins to play. The Indians hiding in the forest, ready to kill him, are touched by the music; they lower their weapons and the tragic Jesuit love affair with the Guani Indians of Paraguay begins.

Several hundred years later, a Filipino missionary in Taiwan, Sr. Judith Malon, OSA, tries the same approach. Read on:

Goodbye to Negros
“Start with music” were the word of Titay Hagad of Bacolod City to me during our mission-sending way back in June, 1983. That phrase was not entirely new to me. I had heard it from a Jesuit priest during our mission orientation in Tagaytay. Maybe the priest got the idea from the movie, “The Mission,” which is a true story of one of the Jesuit missions.

First Months: Terrible
Our Congregation responded to an invitation from the Bishop of Hsinchu, Taiwan, by sending two Sisters to Taiwan in 1981. After two years, another Sister and I followed the first missionaries. We came without any knowledge of the Chinese language, and the first months were terrible. We couldn’t communicate, and all we could do was smile. We couldn’t understand the Mass but we could follow by watching the gesture of the priest. To by the things we needed was difficult without the help of the two Sisters who had gone to Taiwan before us.

No more Piano
At first, I thought I would no longer be able to touch the piano. Our former Mother General, Mother Evangelista, who had sent me to study at the university, told me at my departure: “Sayang naman ang pinag aralan mo sa piano” (It’s pity that you cannot make use of your studies in piano). I then thought to myself: “The Lord gave me this talent; if He doesn’t want me to use it, that’s up to Him”.

Learning Mandarin
Our first two years had to be spent studying Mandarin. We studied at Fu-Jen Catholic University but went-home every weekend to Chutung where our two Sisters staying. They had just finished their Chinese language studies and were starting their apostolates. One took charge of the dormitory for aboriginal students while the other helped in the parish.

 

Parish Priest intervenes
When the parish priest learned that I had a B. Mus., he decided to buy piano so that I could teach some students. As soon as the piano was bought, I felt obliged to give piano lessons, although I was only in the second month of my Chinese language studies. It was a great challenge studies. It was a great challenge for me. the big question bothering me was how I could communicate and be understood by my students. I decided to accept those who had already taken piano lessons and could read notes. Then I had to master some words like relax, (fang, sung); wrong (pu twei); like this (jei yang).

Universal Language
These circumstances also gave me a reason to learn the musical terms in Chinese. At this point, I became aware of the importance of music as a universal language. Furthermore, through music I made many friends and improved my skills in speaking the Chinese language. my students, especially the intelligent ones, taught me the correct Chinese grammar.

Now the Choir
After a year I was given charge of the Chutung parish choir which, later on, received invitations from other parishes to sing at weddings, funerals and other celebrations. The parishioners’ caroling during Christmas became more alive with my guitar-playing and my portable-organ accompaniment.

A Child Speaks
Although two years of Chinese language studies are not enough, we had to presume a “piye” (graduation) from our course, because of our financial resources. Then I started handling beginners. I also helped in the grades V and also helped in the grade VI music classes, in the school choir and the art classes of the lower grades. One time when I made a mistake, a little Chinese girl said to me: “How strange! You are already old, but you still don’t know how to speak.” I just smiled at her.

Even Men’s Work
To work in this mission is really a challenge, especially with regard to using the local language wit which we are not familiar. We Filipinos, who are used to depending on others for all sorts of work, have to go everything ourselves, even things which are men’s work. Thanks be to God, He is always there to assist us, making us creative and resourceful in handling the day-to-day challenges.

I became aware of the importance of music as a universal language.

 

 

Sr. Ma. Rosario, FMM

Off to Indonesia
My first mission was Indonesia, the country next to my motherland, the Philippines. I left home for this mission exactly a month after the mission- sending ceremony held at Baclaran Church, on 7, 1979, more than 10 years ago.

God’s Plan is Different
As a missionary I have always wanted to work with the less fortunate of my brothers and sisters but I acquired a job which encloses me with in four walls. At times I feel rather disappointed, but I have to accept it with strong faith. While I had to planned help build the Kingdom through direct service to the poor, God’s plan for me seemed to be otherwise. God has His owns ways and they are beyond human comprehensions.

Haunted by the Cry of the poor
After our General Chapter in 1984, I become restless again, as one of the orientation was: the preferential option of the poor. From then on, however busy I was with my endless paperwork, the cry of the poor kept haunting me. Eventually, sometime in January, 1988, I took the initiative and the courage to speak out my earnest longings to my superior and to my community: that I be allowed to visit the poor families, at least two afternoons each week

Credit Union
My work at the secretariat does not allow me to work in the parish, as that would entail a regular working schedule, so I gladly welcomed and give consideration that I start with credit Union. Originally this had almost fifty members, but most of them have transferred residence. Some had gone back to their “desa” (village) and some to the outskirt of Jakarta. The exodus began in 1983 when the widening of the roads and the building of toll- roads started.

Shanty Towns
At present I can reach twenty families only, some of whom lives in shanties by the railroad, some near dirty canals and some in low frequently-flooded areas. This small number was quiet good to start with, as I found out that sometimes in one afternoon I could visit just one or two families, defending on the distance and location of their homes. I it worth mentioning that the traffic in Jakarta is as busy and as jammed as in Manila.

Among the few poor families whom I visit is the family of Mr. and Mrs. Frans Yan- not their real name though a real Indonesian name. They have five children, the eldest and the youngest of whom are girls, aged nineteen and six, respectively.

Very Poor
They have a meager means of livelihood. Mr. Frans is a minicar driver and Mrs. Frans is a housekeeper who works in the sewing factory, in the ironing section; she does not know how to sew. Work at the factory is not regular, for it depends  on the market demand.

Lost Job
Before “Lebaran”, the feast celebrated at the end of the Muslim fast., last year, Mr. Frans was sick for several days and lost his job. Since then, I only once in a while has he got help  from a friend who has lent him his “bajaj” (minicar) for a few hours, like he himself used to do so before to help others.

They Share a Store
For some months he went around hoping against hope that he would find a job. Unfortunately he did not succeed so I offered to help them put up a “warung” (kiosk, stall), a very simple one. For them that help was as much appreciated opportunity to get by. In the kiosk they sell fried banana, “ubi” (camote), “tahu” (Chinese cake of soya flour), and other daily necessities of life, like tea, coffee, sugar in all small packages. Mrs. Frans is quiet creative in cooking, and besides she is “ramah” (kind and welcoming). This enables her to sell almost everything that she prepares daily.

Floors
They have a very poor dwelling, one- room house situated near a dirty two- meter-wide canal. During the dry season the dirt and the foul smell are not nuisance to them, but during the rainy season when the canal overflows and the dirty water gets into the house, one can imagine their living conditions.

Joyful and Peaceful
What touches me most about this family is their attitudes towards others. In spite of their difficult and convenient life, they remain warm and welcoming, joyful and peaceful. Another thing is their readiness to go out of their way to be of help to others.

I Thank the Lord
My experience working with our less fortunate sisters and brothers has been very limited, but we have helped each other grow in our life of faith. There simple way of life has enabled me to interpret and evaluate the life which I have given up freely to God for the sake of His Kingdom. I thank the good Lord for innumerable experiences of His love through these, His “little ones” for sustaining me and remaining ever so close to me especially in times of trouble and need.