Traveling, leaving your comfort zones,
can provide a little variety in a rather monotonous and routinary life.
Deviating from the usual schedule, food and people brings in a fresh air of
ideas, thoughts and reflections. Travel widens our horizons. It removes the
blinders that has serve to structure our lives-- but may have also limited our
perspectives of the world around us.
Last July 2016, I joined almost a hundred young
Dominican brothers and sisters in a pilgrimage tracing the footsteps of St.
Dominic. This was on the occasion of the 800th Jubilee celebration
of the Order St. Dominic founded in 1216. Together with Master Bruno Cadore,
OP, the 86th successor of St. Dominic, we traveled Spain, France
and Italy, the countries where St. Dominic ministered as priest, preacher, and founder.
I was with my fellow Dominicans from all over the world. We varied in color,
size, language, food, and in our interests. The list of differences can just go
on and on for there are simply a lot of diversity when people from the seven
continents of the world meet. But despite the difference, there existed a
notable commonality among us. We are Dominicans: sons and daughters of St.
Dominic. That was more than enough reason for us to be together. After all, we
share the same story. We are bound by one person – St. Dominic.
In the course of our pilgrimage, I had
the chance to converse to most of the English-speaking brethren. It was a pity
that I missed conversing with the Spanish speaking pilgrims. I love Spanish (I
always believe Spaniards brought a lot of good things to the Philippines, not
to mention our Catholic faith. Good things that were put to shadow by the
Propagandists, and by the Black legends sowed by nationalists). The three centuries
of Spanish presence in the Philippines gives me a certain affinity with those
Spanish-speaking brothers (from Spain and Latin Americas). Eavesdropping in
their conversations, I could actually understand a little of what they were
saying. I initiated conversation with some of them, but to no avail. I ended up
looking for Filipino words that may convey what I would like to say to them. But even
the Spanish influence in the Filipino language, however, was not enough to
bridge the language barrier between me, and the Spaniards and Latin Americans.
Indeed, it was a missed opportunity to share with them our common Spanish
patrimony and heritage: of menudos, arroz valenciana, tsokolate, chico and of
course the brand of Catholicism we share; of estopado santos, mind boggling
retablos, beautiful processions capping colorful fiestas; our mestizo
Catholicism. But perhaps, God willing, at some other time. I will make sure to
have a conversation with my brothers from the Peninsula and the Americas.
Most of the brothers in my group were
Europeans, Americans (US), and Asian. Next to Spaniards and American
Latinos, a Filipino would find a great deal of affinity with the Americans,
more so with the Asian-Americans. I had a great time with our brothers from the
Holy Name Province (Western Province, US). One contributing factor to these is
that most of them have Asian ethnicity (Korean, Vietnamese, and a Pinoy!). Lest
I be accused of patronizing American yet again over my Asian confreres, I tried
to establish a connection with my Asian brothers. I found myself in the same
situation I was into with my Spanish speaking brothers. I had a great time
being with Asian Americans. We shared our love for rice, up-sized burgers and soft
drinks. They shared their experiences about the OFWs (Overseas Filipino Workers)
and Filipino migrants fulfilling their American dreams in the West,
particularly in California. They felt comfortable too with us Filipinos (I was
with another Filipino Brother by the way). Filipinos are not new to them. They
are with Filipino American brothers in their Province (The Dominican Order is divided
into Province as the world is to countries). They administer to Filipino
communities. They had eaten halo-halo, the famous adobo, lechon. They have experienced
the warmth and hospitality of Filipinos abroad.
I heard these stories about Filipino hospitality and kindness not only from the Americans, but also from other brothers and people I met
along our pilgrimage, people who have had the chance to meet Filipinos at one
point in their lives. A money changer in Madrid, upon seeing my Philippine
passport greeted me “Mabuhay!”, to my surprise. He briefly recalled his time in a cruise ship with
Filipino seafarers. “Filipinos are very fun to be with, and have a very warm
disposition.” A brother from England who
worked as real estate lawyer in Hong Kong before joining the Order had a chance
to visit the Philippines during the Christmas season. “The Christmas in the
Philippines is very colorful and everyone is smiling.” Most of the people we met
who had encountered Filipinos would always share stories of fun with Filipinos.
I began to suspect that they were saying these stories because I was a Filipino.
But thinking about it, I do not think so, knowing their straightforward
culture. Furthermore, where on earth would they be getting all those stories
about the Filipinos?!? I made sure that after the pilgrimage, they would add
more stories and experience with a Filipino worth telling to the next Filipino
they meet.
Another group of brothers with whom I had
a great time were the Eastern Europeans from Poland, Croatia and Ukraine. We
shared our stories of a vibrant local Church, where churches are not museum and
civic centers but rather places of worship. We talked too about the devotion of
our people to Mary and their love for song. And I think the best factor that
these Slavs and Filipinos have is their fellow Slav, John Paul II. Filipinos
love him so much, this Pope who visited the Philippines twice and inspired
thousands to consider vocation to the priesthood. John Paul II serves as a
model for many Filipino priests and seminarians, teaching the latter how to be
a servant of Christ in this postmodern times. I told Wojtech, one of the Polish
brothers, how Filipinos love John Paul II. For example, in 1995, Filipino
passionately chanted “JP2 we love you” as the Pope emerged at the Quirino
Grandstand to preside over a vigil of the World Youth Day 1995. The Pope
spontaneously replied “JP2 loves you too.” The hymn for WYD 95, I added, is
still a hit in the Philippines, 21 years after it was first sung. The song
never fail to leave my eyes moist with tears every time I hear it sung. Wojtech
asked me to sing the song for him. I told him, as an excuse for I do not really
have a talent for singing, to just google or youtube it because I could not
anymore hold my tears. But truth be told, I was about to cry at the moment,
perhaps because of John Paul II who is a great inspiration in my vocation, or
simply because of the lame excuse I made to avoid singing. Wojtech did not say
any words. He simply tapped my shoulder. And we understood each other.
Italians are incredibly frank,
especially Manuel. I loved the way he voiced out his criticisms and comments on
the French, a far cry from the way Filipinos put flowery words to convey
something that is rather the contrary; mapapalabok na salita. Manuel, besides
being an Italian, is a Sicilian too. That is more than enough to explain his
strong personality. As we toured the churches and museums, I made sure to be
within hearing distance. He had an inclination on church heritage, just like
me. But one of the reasons why this Italian brother from the Roman Province was
good to me was because of our brother
Florentino Bolo. Fr. Jhun helped their Province by serving as their Master of
Students. Manuel perhaps was returning the good experience he had with a
Filipino Dominican Student Master. This made me think that the goodness we do
to other may not return to us but it would surely be given to someone close to
us.
Among the things we had talked about
aside from our countries, culture, and local church situations, we also shared
about our religious life, and the challenges we face as provinces. Our English-speaking
group had raised at least 10-15 points that had been discussed exhaustively.
Looking at these issues, I realized how Filipino Dominicans and the Dominican
Province of the Philippines (DPP) had addressed most of these problems. I
though how wise and intelligent our forefathers in DPP were, having foreseen
these problems. As I discussed with other group leaders, I was hesitant to
speak, for the other group leaders seemed to be more legitimate and very
confident to speak. They were fluent in English. Listening to them, and the
problems they encountered in their provinces, I could not but speak about the
solutions that our province have for these problems. I thought, if I remain quiet, I would be doing
injustice to my province, to my brothers, who trusted me to represent them in
this gathering. With this, I gained the necessary courage to share the best
practices in my province, such as collaboration with the Dominican family, use
of social communications media to enter the so called Digital continent, care
for the elderly brothers, etc. At that time, I felt so proud for my province.
Despite the many things I complained about in the province, it is better off
than the others provinces of the Order. I thanked our forefathers for this. If
ever I am enjoying the structure and mechanism in the province at present, it
is because our forefathers had invested their energies and resources in the
past, so that the province may be in a better situation than when they took the
helm.
In the last day of our pilgrimage,
Bologna. We had a sharing with Fr. Gerard Timoner, our Provincial. I
enthusiastically shared my realization regarding the advantageous state of the
province, that the province is far better than the other provinces in many
respects. I told him how our forefathers had done a lot, and how we are reaping
the copious fruits that their efforts had sown. He let my enthusiasm subside
and allowed me to share more about my proud moments for the province and the
fathers and brothers behind it. After a while, Fr. Gert gently reprimanded me: “It
is not the way to look at it. Whatever we have in the province, it is not
because we are good; but it is because God has blessed us with vocations and the
necessary resources that enable us to respond aptly to these situations. In
front of these blessed reality in the province, we cannot be proud, rather we
have to be humble and grateful to God who had blessed the province, who is the
real force behind the reality that we enjoy. These privileges are with
necessary responsibilities; sharing our human, technical and material resources
to other provinces of the Order, to the local and universal Church.”
I was silenced by this perspective, by
this grateful way of looking at our province. More than through our own human
efforts, it is the Lord, his grace that has enabled the province to grow into the strong institution that it is today.
The words of St. Paul came to my mind: “I planted, Apollos watered, but God
caused the growth (1 Cor 3:6).”
When we travel, we widen our
perspective. But the object of this perspective remain to be the same: our
life, our selves.
As I returned from Europe and traversed
España, Manila, I thought that the Philippines is not that bad at all. Europe
had the same problems of beggars, poverty, narrow streets, garbage,
undisciplined pedestrians. But they learned how to address these. And surely I
think, Filipinos will figure out how to solve these same problems and bring out
the warmth and fun disposition in our own land, to our own people, the same
warmth and fun that foreigners experienced from the many Filipinos they
encounter.
As I walked through the cloister of Santo
Domingo Church, in Quezon City, I thought our church is not that bad at all compared to San
Jacques in Toulouse, the Church of Sopra Minerva, even St. Peter’s. Ours is a
church adorned with people, struggling to respond faithfully to the demands of
following Christ.
As I opened the seminary’s main door (at
2 am in the morning)and saw our community picture, I thought I would never
exchange this province for another, I would never exchange my brothers with
French who may be great in singing polyphony, or with a Spanish who are heirs
to a great Catholic patrimony. My province and my brothers may not be the best
in the world, but they are definitely not like the rest.
As I entered my cell, face to face with
my self, I thought what a life, what a vocation God has given me: I love it and
I could not ask for more. I said a prayer and closed my eyes to rest, knowing
that I would be opening them, to see the same things, the same brothers, same
place I left when we started the pilgrimage, but this time to see them with a
different perspective, with a grateful perspective. Undeniably, after the
pilgrimage, things had never been the same again.
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