We
are not oblivious of the reservations on the three of us be sent here. Much has
been said and done. A friend even went on to say that if it would be him, he
would rather pack his clothes and plant kamote.
Yet, it is the characteristic of the young to be stubborn - at his heart’s desire.
So five months ago, we did pack our clothes and went here. Not to plant kamote though, for it is already
abundant here.
Now,
we consume ourselves for the purpose there is at the moment, i. e. to learn
French language (with all the sidelines in-between, of course). I am glad that,
finally, we have to live in a single place all these time. Since our first
profession of vows last May, the three of us (Daniel Ocampo Jr., Jaymark Gutierrez
and Me), had been hopping from one place to another, not staying in any of them
for long, until we arrived here. While preparing the legalities for the program
we are now in, we were on hiatal stays to the communities we now missed: the
Provincial House, our home places, the AIFC-11th Street. That
remained to be so until things were done; we were sent off; and told to be
faithful to our vocation (unfaithfulness, despite) by Fr. Rex Salvilla on his homily that day. Tough!
Belgian Segue and
Inspiration Overflow
It was the news du jour that the day we arrived at Brussels, registered to be one
where there 
was a great number of airline passengers. It was probably because
of those who caught some sun outside Belgium. It has been days then when it did
not show up there. My worries as to what to do next after the airport were
waved away by a familiar logo which greeted us at the waiting area. Behind was Bro. Jan van den Heuvel
and we were told by him that it is part of his toil to fetch and accompany
confreres at the airport. Sweet! At 17⁰C,
it was a good time to go around the city, they said. Plus, there was the sun! A
good sign, I thought. Fr. Jacques Thomas, yes, the once
Superior General, generously volunteered to accompany us to the must-see places
around the city that same afternoon. “Tired” or “jetlagged” was for us a word non-existent
that day.
We stayed at our Mother House in Scheut for
two weeks while we processed our visas to Cameroon. It was a grand time for us
to delve into the roots and fruits of our Congregation. Sitting before the Chinese-made
sarcophagus containing our Founder’s remains is almost imperative for one to fall
on his knees. I was brought to gratitude for the good works our Founder has
started and for the inspiration he spurred upon those who followed and are still
following his footsteps. It was equally an overwhelming experience for me to
walk along the gallery of photos of missionaries whose lives graced and still
gracing the CICM Mission. There were more than three thousands of them, from
that of our Founder up to the batch of the Indonesian interns who recently came
to the Philippines for their English course.
The changing tides of our Congregation were somehow captured by those
photos: from whole to half-body to head shots; from sepias to black-and-white
to colored and to black-and-white again; the emergence of missionaries from
different nationalities; the different hairstyles; the various postures; even
the various accessories that ranges from crosses to breviaries to eyeglasses to
smiles (or absence of it). Each according to his likings; each to his own time.
Then all were assembled together to create a wonderful collage that is our
Congregation.
Of Formation Houses,
Caring Homes, and Retirees In time for the celebration of the All
Soul’s Day, Fr. Jacques brought us to Jambes, Namur, located southern part of
Belgium. There used to be a formation house there for the French-speaking
confreres. Every year, their families gathered together for a thanksgiving mass
and for a convivial meal. We brushed elbows with some of them. Of course, we
did not miss the chance to pay homage to some of our confreres who were buried
in the area. It was almost eerie to stand before the graves where missionaries
we studied and read in our history are buried.
That was our version of Undas. We were also graced by the time Fr. Guido Everaert had with us. He brought us to his hometown in
Ostend, on the coastal part of Belgium. There, we met his parents. He then
brought us to Kortrijk, in the formation-house-turned-caring-home where he now
serves as the rector. It is a community
of seasoned missionaries, numbering more than twenty, wrinkled and weakened by
their lives in the mission. It was vespers when we arrived. Like obedient
formands, they prayed together. Supper followed after, and it was a pleasure to
see them doing their assigned tasks; leading the prayer, introducing visitors,
and dishwashing. It was reminiscent to suppertime Maryhurst, only that instead
of juvenile seminarians, there were gray-haired confreres.
We
also went to another retirement home in Zuun. It is a bigger community housed
in once-a-castle-turned-formation-house-turned-caring-home. There we met Fr. Jozef Waterschoot, famously known
to us as Fr. Patat. He was on his
wheelchair, paralyzed, and unable to speak. When we were introduced as
Filipinos, he appeared glad, made gestures, as if trying to move his hands and
trying to say something. He signaled to the framed photos surrounding the walls
of his room. They were photos during his glory days as a missionary in Benguet.
For whatever reasons why he mounted those on his walls, I was moved by it. For me, it is the connection he feels, after
all these years, for the people he served on his mission in Benguet.
And then there was also Fr. Wim Goossens. This jovial confrere, who once also served as a
Superior General, was welcoming to us. His sharp memory of the times he had and
the confreres he knows in and from the Philippines was simply impressive.
Meeting some of our
retired Belgian confreres somehow puts faces on the names that took quite a
number of pages in our Elenchus. Belgium has really sent its sons to the
mission! Now they are back, at least for those who managed tor, to the same
houses that formed them. It’s poignant to see old confreres taking care of
their fellow, almost as old as they are. I also wonder how it feels like to be
together again with your contemporaries in the same formation house you were
before. Then, tête-à-tête on benches, around tables or along walk-paths (as always
the case) about mission - this time in the past tense. Nice, isn’t it?
We also met the Filipino community
there and shared table with some of them. We joined their mass one Sunday and
it felt different to hear familiar songs being sung in an unfamiliar place and
set-up. More so, inside a magnanimous European church, only a fraction of which
was occupied.
Our
2-week stay in Belgium, the Mother House in particular, was for me a grace
where inspiration welled up. It all began there and being there had me a peek
of the richness of our beloved Congregation’s past. We were almost filled with
awe to the point of wanting to build three tents there, one each for the three of
us. But we just have to move on to our Sea of Galilee. Our purpose was not
there. Besides, our visas to Cameroon have been processed.
That Car in Red
During his vacation last year, Fr. Nazario ‘Naz’ Caparanga had a
session with us, novices then. He said that for those who will be sent to
Cameroon, a red car will be waiting at the airport. Nine months on and indeed,
there was the red car. With it was another car (not red) of Fr. Moise Tam, the Provincial Superior
of ACO himself, who with Fr. Naz and a Chadian confrere-intern to Haiti, came
to fetch us.
So,
welcome to Africa! We elongated our necks and stuck our noses to the car window
as we were drove from the airport à la
Maison Provinciale.
Of Ni Hao and Bonjour! We
live here in our Pre-Novitiate house at Tsinga, Yaoundé, where we form part of
the community with our pre-novices. There are nine of them. We are having our
French language course at a rather exclusive school named Centre de Langue CICM de Tsinga, in the same house where we are. It
is relatively exclusive that there are only three students, us! It is also
a
newly-established school where three professors alternately come during
weekdays. Fr. Naz is the school’s director. We are the second batch to study
here; the pioneers being Frs. Maurice
Galasa, Wilfredo Sabarillo Jr., both missionaries to Zambia, and Fr. Anthonius Pasang, an Indonesian
confrere assign to Congo. We had a great time with these young missionaries
during their last month of French study before they went back to their
respective mission assignments. French language is complicated with
all its hard-to-determine genders, baffling articles, nasal pronunciation, and numerous
conjugations. That not counting the amount of vocabulary we have to build. Yet,
I am glad we can now utter more than Bonjour!
and know beyond Bon Appetit! Every
Tuesday, starting the first week of Lent, the three of us alternately share the
homily to the community, in French!
We
spend our weekends at the parish where Fr. Naz is the parish priest, a walking
distance away from Tsinga. If not, we are in the parish where Fr. Rene Cabag Jr. serves as the
assistant. It’s for us both a grace and an occasion to be with these dedicated
missionaries as they plow on their field. Saturdays are alive in their
respective parishes, as groups that ranges from children to adult, gathered to
conduct their affairs. Masses are rather long and filled with dances and songs,
especially during Sundays. At times, queues for offertory are longer than that
of communion.
One time, we joined a pilgrimage
with the parishioners where Fr. Rene is. It’s an enriching experience to be
with them. The car where we were was filled with songs on our way to and fro.
Then we joined the faithful in supplications on a serene, elevated place, very
much conducive for that event. When we were back, we were greeted with the thumping
sounds of tam-tams and tambours in varying sizes. The pilgrims
burst into dancing, a thanksgiving for a safe and fruitful trip. I thought I
can’t imagine Africa without songs and dances. Even funerals and burials are
filled with such gestures!
It is common for us to be
mistaken as Chinese here. Children and some adults alike, are ready with their “Ni Hao” whenever we passed by them. Some
children thought we knew Kung Fu and requested
sample footwork at times, on which we jestingly yield to their great delight.
Whew! They are equally elated with our hair. They brushed and played on them
with such interest. I never thought simple things as such could bring so much
joy.
10 years, 20 years, 5
months
On the 15th of December
last year, Fr. Naz celebrated his 10th Anniversary of Sacerdotal
Ordination. The mass was filled with parishioners and friends from far and nigh,
who came to celebrate with him on that grace-filled occasion. Various
organizations in the parish paid their tribute in forms of gifts, dances, and
presentation to their beloved parish priest. It was just as moving. A simple salo-salo on a newly-constructed veranda
atop the parish building, followed. Overlooking bright city lights, cold winds
defied by warm greetings there were. It was a gratitude-laden event fitted
enough for a man who shares his life to the mission.
Then around the middle of
February, some members of the Filipino community here in Yaoundé, which I could
only count with my fingers – majority are religious, had an intimate despedida for Sister Mary Jovita Pe Benito. She is a missionary of Saint Paul de
Chartes. She had been here in Cameroon for twenty years already and left for
good. She’s going to take a new mission assignment after her vacation.
I
am humbled by all these events. We have our five months and what is it compared
to their more than 10 or 20 years? It takes some time to take a fraction of
their years, not to mention how much we can take from their works within those
numbers of years. For now, it suffices to say there are a lot of things to look
forward to. It is five months and living, more than counting.
Not
to forget that on our fifth month, we were visited by our very own Novice
Master now General Councilor, Fr. Mike
Reyes, for his canonical visit to the Province of ACO. Imagine how happy
and how inspired we were for the reunion!
Five
months has done a lot on our individual lives, and what a joy! Indeed, as Fr.
Rex Salvilla prophesied on his homily during our sent-off, we already miss some
people, going to familiar places, eating usual foods. We indeed encountered new
challenges, language especially, difficulties in adjusting physically, entering
into a new culture, living with people having different mentality, adjusting to
the food, etc. Though difficult, these are the things we were prepared for on
those formation years that have been. Moreover, how is a missionary be if
without all these?
Much remains to be said and be done and we
are aware of some confreres’ reservations on us being sent here. Or is it just
my conceit? Nonetheless, I am grateful for those who showed genuine concern. For
those who exhibited confidence on us and on this program of ‘embracing the
charism of our institute in this way’, despite how wanting we are or how
experimental all these seem to be. Wherever we are matters, but not as much as
our willingness to grow, take root, and bear fruit into following Jesus
wherever we are does. Besides, in a Congregation like ours where there is a call
to go beyond borders, let this be our share.
We are now closing our fifth month,
and I believe we have a good start.
There are times when we simply
stumble upon good films that has the capacity to make us stay the entire span without
knowing what lies ahead but ended up with high sighs of appreciation and
inspiration. See, inspiration can be found everywhere, even elsewhere. We just have to have the
eyes capable to notice and a space in our heart to contain them. Consider this
simple Vietnamese film Owl and the Sparrow. It
might not be grand on its production. But what it lacks is filled up by the
grandeur of its story, in plain simplicity.
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