Nostalgia in the mountains
Pagosa Springs, Colorado
June 26, 2011
I could not relate with Julie Andrews singing and flying on the meadows in the movie "Sound of Music". Until now, I find the movie too pha khin corny, I had to smack my forehead wishing the thought would just go away.
"Climb every mountain," the pha khin song was like a fly hovering by as I trailed behind NASA Lee, RN, KG, Karlee, Terry and Alexander at the Piedra Trails along the boulders of the San Juan Mountains.
Alright, alright! I did sing about fording every stream. I must have been really pha khin bored. I did not know why I was going to church every Sunday to accept the Holy Eucharist. I did like singing "Amen" eight times in different octaves. It all started on a question on a handmade poster I found on a church bulleting board:
"Do you have a call? Come attend the Search-in."
I was on a trek to visit a Manobo tribe family in the hinterlands of San Luis, Agusan del Sur. I was at the head of the trail. Sister Mary Milagrosa, the mother superior for the San Luis Mission House was trailing behind me. A crucifix was dangling from the pocket of her habit. Following Sister Mary Milagrosa was Cecilia Cortez, then a new graduate from Maryknoll College, an exclusive girls' college in Manila and Angela, a young teacher from Butuan City.
I particularly picked the Religious of the Good Shepherd congregation because the nuns looked all so intelligent to me. They called themselves a community.
Ever since, I defied going to church to attend mass. My sister Lourdes used to pinch me if I did not kneel like everyone whenever she tagged me along to church on Sundays. I was bored then and I am still pha khin bored.
I was working my very first government service job in Northern Mindanao just so to be away from home. I did not like being asked to go to church on Sundays or hearing my father say: "A family that prays together stays together."
My father used to make it a rule to be home by six in the evening so we can pray the Angelus together. I hated being on my knees and mumbling the same prayers every night. I always wished someone farted so I could giggle in response.
What I loved about Northern Mindanao was being on my own. I was renting a room in a big house owned by a couple whose only child has grown and gotten married and lived in another city. On weekends, I would ride a bus to go to the nearest city, Cagayan de Oro. I stayed in lodging houses and rode all the jeepneys I could making sure I would get back to my lodging house. At one point, I was accepted as a graduate student at Xavier University in Cagayan de Oro. I managed to enrol two classes: Renaissance Literature and Theology. I don't remember if I ever managed to finished those classes. But I do remember being in a class with good-looking male classmates who talked about religious formation and becoming man of God for others. Some females in the class who were so wholesome to everyone wore habits.
I would see those good-looking male classmates wanting to be man of God for others and the wholesome habit-wearing female classmates in the campus chapel on Sundays. I signed up for the search-in.
The vocation director, a really wholesome habit-wearing lady sounded so intelligent talking about answering God's call by attending the search-in. Sister Mary Patrick talked about vows. Vow of poverty, vow of obedience, vow of chastity and celibacy and another vow I really understood nothing about. Sounded like a professional vow or a final vow.
I like Sister Stella Maria because she listened to my confusion. She asked me to write to Sister Mary Juicy. These females in habit acquired their names based on their patron saints, their father's names or simply just by adding Mary to their original names in honor of the blessed virgin Mary. I never heard about any saint named Juicy though.
Sister Stella Maria came from Cebu Province and she was actually referring to Sister Mary Josefina.
I went with the group of Sister Stella Maria's group to their provincial house in Cebu City. They call the place Banawa Hills and the sprawling estate consisted of a retreat house, several chapels, a replica of the Garden of Gethsemane, a cloister and a house for unwed mothers. More females wearing habits converged at Banawa Hills to work the beads, chant verses, eat in silence and did everything that did not look pha khin boring to me then.
An exposure to the hinterlands of Agusan del Sur was to be the highlight of my search-in. The San Luis mission house could only be accessed by passing through a militarized area, military check points and hamlet communities displaced as a result of military operation against insurgency. I was a resource person for the very first time to a community gathering of mothers with young children. I was asked to discuss the benefits of breastfeeding. I have not yet resigned from my job as nutritionist-dietitian with the Integrated Provincial Health Office of Misamis Oriental that was operating the district hospital I was working at. I could not say no when I was asked to speak on breasfeeding because I was supposed to be knowledgeable on public health nutrition.
Cecilia snapped a picture of me in front of mothers in a classroom style gathering and I was pointing at makeshift visual aids. I don't remember much about the lecture. What would have I known about breastfeeding, I was there as participant observer and discerning if I had a call.
The exposure led me to the provincial house of the Religious of the Good Shepherd in Quezon City. I become one of the seven aspirants. All seven of us were discerning if we were called. I was sent to Batangas City with another aspirant to live and observe the nuns who run St. Bridget College.
Many are cold but few are frozen.
I was the first one to leave. I did not want to be fingering rosary beads all my life. I am sure I am not called and neither would I even be chosen. The pha khin discernment illusions were a mix-up resulting from my four years of Catholic education.
June 26, 2011
I could not relate with Julie Andrews singing and flying on the meadows in the movie "Sound of Music". Until now, I find the movie too pha khin corny, I had to smack my forehead wishing the thought would just go away.
"Climb every mountain," the pha khin song was like a fly hovering by as I trailed behind NASA Lee, RN, KG, Karlee, Terry and Alexander at the Piedra Trails along the boulders of the San Juan Mountains.
Alright, alright! I did sing about fording every stream. I must have been really pha khin bored. I did not know why I was going to church every Sunday to accept the Holy Eucharist. I did like singing "Amen" eight times in different octaves. It all started on a question on a handmade poster I found on a church bulleting board:
"Do you have a call? Come attend the Search-in."
I was on a trek to visit a Manobo tribe family in the hinterlands of San Luis, Agusan del Sur. I was at the head of the trail. Sister Mary Milagrosa, the mother superior for the San Luis Mission House was trailing behind me. A crucifix was dangling from the pocket of her habit. Following Sister Mary Milagrosa was Cecilia Cortez, then a new graduate from Maryknoll College, an exclusive girls' college in Manila and Angela, a young teacher from Butuan City.
I particularly picked the Religious of the Good Shepherd congregation because the nuns looked all so intelligent to me. They called themselves a community.
Ever since, I defied going to church to attend mass. My sister Lourdes used to pinch me if I did not kneel like everyone whenever she tagged me along to church on Sundays. I was bored then and I am still pha khin bored.
I was working my very first government service job in Northern Mindanao just so to be away from home. I did not like being asked to go to church on Sundays or hearing my father say: "A family that prays together stays together."
My father used to make it a rule to be home by six in the evening so we can pray the Angelus together. I hated being on my knees and mumbling the same prayers every night. I always wished someone farted so I could giggle in response.
What I loved about Northern Mindanao was being on my own. I was renting a room in a big house owned by a couple whose only child has grown and gotten married and lived in another city. On weekends, I would ride a bus to go to the nearest city, Cagayan de Oro. I stayed in lodging houses and rode all the jeepneys I could making sure I would get back to my lodging house. At one point, I was accepted as a graduate student at Xavier University in Cagayan de Oro. I managed to enrol two classes: Renaissance Literature and Theology. I don't remember if I ever managed to finished those classes. But I do remember being in a class with good-looking male classmates who talked about religious formation and becoming man of God for others. Some females in the class who were so wholesome to everyone wore habits.
I would see those good-looking male classmates wanting to be man of God for others and the wholesome habit-wearing female classmates in the campus chapel on Sundays. I signed up for the search-in.
The vocation director, a really wholesome habit-wearing lady sounded so intelligent talking about answering God's call by attending the search-in. Sister Mary Patrick talked about vows. Vow of poverty, vow of obedience, vow of chastity and celibacy and another vow I really understood nothing about. Sounded like a professional vow or a final vow.
I like Sister Stella Maria because she listened to my confusion. She asked me to write to Sister Mary Juicy. These females in habit acquired their names based on their patron saints, their father's names or simply just by adding Mary to their original names in honor of the blessed virgin Mary. I never heard about any saint named Juicy though.
Sister Stella Maria came from Cebu Province and she was actually referring to Sister Mary Josefina.
I went with the group of Sister Stella Maria's group to their provincial house in Cebu City. They call the place Banawa Hills and the sprawling estate consisted of a retreat house, several chapels, a replica of the Garden of Gethsemane, a cloister and a house for unwed mothers. More females wearing habits converged at Banawa Hills to work the beads, chant verses, eat in silence and did everything that did not look pha khin boring to me then.
An exposure to the hinterlands of Agusan del Sur was to be the highlight of my search-in. The San Luis mission house could only be accessed by passing through a militarized area, military check points and hamlet communities displaced as a result of military operation against insurgency. I was a resource person for the very first time to a community gathering of mothers with young children. I was asked to discuss the benefits of breastfeeding. I have not yet resigned from my job as nutritionist-dietitian with the Integrated Provincial Health Office of Misamis Oriental that was operating the district hospital I was working at. I could not say no when I was asked to speak on breasfeeding because I was supposed to be knowledgeable on public health nutrition.
Cecilia snapped a picture of me in front of mothers in a classroom style gathering and I was pointing at makeshift visual aids. I don't remember much about the lecture. What would have I known about breastfeeding, I was there as participant observer and discerning if I had a call.
The exposure led me to the provincial house of the Religious of the Good Shepherd in Quezon City. I become one of the seven aspirants. All seven of us were discerning if we were called. I was sent to Batangas City with another aspirant to live and observe the nuns who run St. Bridget College.
Many are cold but few are frozen.
I was the first one to leave. I did not want to be fingering rosary beads all my life. I am sure I am not called and neither would I even be chosen. The pha khin discernment illusions were a mix-up resulting from my four years of Catholic education.
Comments