Thursday, May 11, 2006
extra challenge sa dumagat
Come to serve; not to be served
We rode in a truck, as we usually did. The sun was up and smiling. Imagine how he burns us. Oh yeah, we were freezing in the sun! The trip took us four hours (estimated). We dressed like Muslims or farmers wearing hat (I mean, HHAAAATTT), t-shirts on our faces, and jackets. Yes, we’d rather look like outlandish than be toasted humans. On our first stop, a guide told us that there was an ambush occurred in the neighbored barangay. Fear wrapped us up, thinking – Can we still back out? I don’t want to die yet! But of course…NO! We were going for a mission – a special mission. Remember? So…on we went. There was a rough road, then a hi-way, then another rough road, then a mountain. It’s not like Baguio nor Tagaytay. It is DRT – a place where most of the terrifying NPAs center. Oh my God! Back to our trip, we passed three ponds. Huaaaooo!!! First time! Then on and on, we reached the Dumagats – an ethnic minority we used to ignore.
I learned that all sacraments are held there all in the same day. Why? Because the parish priest goes there once a year. Yes, there are no Sunday masses, no baptism after birth, no weddings on your dream dates, not even a confession when you’re dying. But just a simple wedding, baptism mass when the priest is there. I pity them. I pity them not because a mass is held once a year in their place but because they don’t know God. It was indeed a hard task for us to convince them to attend that once in a year mass.
When we arrived, I saw how simple their living is. I was happy. And smiled. There were no televisions, no cameraphones, no computers and no vehicles. But still, they enjoy life. They find pleasure in doing simple things. They play basketball, not NBA Live; they bet in perya but they do not ride in rides coz they don’t have one; they also party, but not in bars and pavilions just in the basketball court. By the way, they’ll be celebrating their fiesta the next day. We moved and went on with our mission. For this time, a medical mission and distribution of some clothes. I accompanied in weighing and notice something. Some do not wear slippers. Most of them do not bother wearing one. They are used to it. They live a simple life. But I am not happy. I did not smile. I can’t smile. I thought – wearing no footwear hurts, aren’t they hurt? I can’t stay long wearing nothing on my feet but them…they love it. On the second thought, do they really love it or they just don’t have a choice?
After we weighed, I moved to the distribution of clothes and saw how excited they were to get something that fits them. They were truly happy to have new clothes but are they really new? Should I pity them or simply be happy for them?
I saw a baby. I carried him in my arms and played with him. He smiles and laughs. Again, I was happy. I love babies. I like him and he likes me too. I remember my nephew. I remember how he cries everytime he sees me. But this baby in my arms for the first time, laughs as he sees me.
The sun set and the moon rose. It was evening. We were welcomed in a little home. I was touched. Without a doubt they accepted us – strangers. Inside their little home I saw them preparing the meat to be cooked tomorrow. They were a family working as a family. I was happy again.
This encounter with the Dumagats is our mission. But never did I expect to be happy as I watched their simple ways. I thought, I would only be happy as I extend my help but it was more. I helped them but they helped me too – to see how simple things will make me happy. I came to serve but they also served us. I was happy. They made me happy. I wish, I made them happy too.
sa bundok,
sa gubat,
di kami matatakot...
basta't kasama ang
Panginoon =)
I packed my things up, ready for tomorrow’s journey to Dumagat. As I awoke the next morning, I prepared myself with a leap from my heart. Excited, I go to church – our meeting place. This would be another great adventure. A one of a kind experience. An extra challenge as we call it. We were going to DRT, the biggest part of Bulacan. But we would go there not for a vacation but for a mission – a special mission.We rode in a truck, as we usually did. The sun was up and smiling. Imagine how he burns us. Oh yeah, we were freezing in the sun! The trip took us four hours (estimated). We dressed like Muslims or farmers wearing hat (I mean, HHAAAATTT), t-shirts on our faces, and jackets. Yes, we’d rather look like outlandish than be toasted humans. On our first stop, a guide told us that there was an ambush occurred in the neighbored barangay. Fear wrapped us up, thinking – Can we still back out? I don’t want to die yet! But of course…NO! We were going for a mission – a special mission. Remember? So…on we went. There was a rough road, then a hi-way, then another rough road, then a mountain. It’s not like Baguio nor Tagaytay. It is DRT – a place where most of the terrifying NPAs center. Oh my God! Back to our trip, we passed three ponds. Huaaaooo!!! First time! Then on and on, we reached the Dumagats – an ethnic minority we used to ignore.
I learned that all sacraments are held there all in the same day. Why? Because the parish priest goes there once a year. Yes, there are no Sunday masses, no baptism after birth, no weddings on your dream dates, not even a confession when you’re dying. But just a simple wedding, baptism mass when the priest is there. I pity them. I pity them not because a mass is held once a year in their place but because they don’t know God. It was indeed a hard task for us to convince them to attend that once in a year mass.
When we arrived, I saw how simple their living is. I was happy. And smiled. There were no televisions, no cameraphones, no computers and no vehicles. But still, they enjoy life. They find pleasure in doing simple things. They play basketball, not NBA Live; they bet in perya but they do not ride in rides coz they don’t have one; they also party, but not in bars and pavilions just in the basketball court. By the way, they’ll be celebrating their fiesta the next day. We moved and went on with our mission. For this time, a medical mission and distribution of some clothes. I accompanied in weighing and notice something. Some do not wear slippers. Most of them do not bother wearing one. They are used to it. They live a simple life. But I am not happy. I did not smile. I can’t smile. I thought – wearing no footwear hurts, aren’t they hurt? I can’t stay long wearing nothing on my feet but them…they love it. On the second thought, do they really love it or they just don’t have a choice?
After we weighed, I moved to the distribution of clothes and saw how excited they were to get something that fits them. They were truly happy to have new clothes but are they really new? Should I pity them or simply be happy for them?
I saw a baby. I carried him in my arms and played with him. He smiles and laughs. Again, I was happy. I love babies. I like him and he likes me too. I remember my nephew. I remember how he cries everytime he sees me. But this baby in my arms for the first time, laughs as he sees me.
The sun set and the moon rose. It was evening. We were welcomed in a little home. I was touched. Without a doubt they accepted us – strangers. Inside their little home I saw them preparing the meat to be cooked tomorrow. They were a family working as a family. I was happy again.
This encounter with the Dumagats is our mission. But never did I expect to be happy as I watched their simple ways. I thought, I would only be happy as I extend my help but it was more. I helped them but they helped me too – to see how simple things will make me happy. I came to serve but they also served us. I was happy. They made me happy. I wish, I made them happy too.
// posted by zhan @ 10:44 AM 
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Your are Nice. And so is your site! Maybe you need some more pictures. Will return in the near future.
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