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SCJs from around the world are at the Generalate in Rome this week for a workshop on administrative skills — the nuts and bolts of keeping a province running smoothly. Fr. Terry Langley (second row, far left) is representing the US Province.

Fr. Terry Langley, provincial secretary, is in Rome this week for a secretaries’ workshop. No, there won’t be classes in shorthand, but instead there are presentations on the many tasks involved in the administrative needs of a province, region and/or district in the congregation. This is the second time that such a workshop has been hosted by the General Curia. Fr. Terry is joined by SCJs from South America, Asia, Africa and Europe.

 After his first day, he wrote the following:

I’m enjoying Rome. Heru and Roberto [Fr. Heru is the secretary general and Br. Roberto is vice general secretary] have organized an excellent meeting. Yesterday, Fr. John van den Hengel and Fr. Tullio Benini spoke about the mission and tasks of the provincial secretary.

Fr. John talked about the power of the written word, which is to say that the interminable letters we provincial secretaries have to write can be instruments that help further the mission of the congregation and also break down the social isolation that our confreres sometimes feel. Along the same line, Fr Benini said that the door of the provincial secretary’s office should always be open.

Fr. Terry (back to the camera) takes part in small group discussions

In the afternoon we broke up into small groups (according to language) and talked about specific duties we have as provincial secretaries in our respective provinces, as well as difficulties we often experience and ways in which our working relationship with the Secretary General might be improved.

This morning Fr. Marek Stoklosa, a canon lawyer from the Polish Province, spoke about things that all provincial secretaries must deal with regarding members: prolonged absences, exclaustration, dismissal, incardination. He will speak to us again this afternoon and most of tomorrow.

The local community here is most kind and welcoming but there are certainly things that I find so different from home: eating lunch at 1 p.m. and supper at 7:30; sitting at supper and sometimes having no one to talk to in English (thank God for Fr. John van den Hengel and Fr. Wayne Jenkins!); not having a TV in my room (and not missing it a bit; however, life without a computer would be another matter).

The internationality of our congregation is something to behold. I stand in awe of our young people from the countries we have recently entered. I am filled with hope for the congregation.

By the way, I was just feet away from the pope as he passed by me in St. Peter’s Square on Sunday right before the celebration of his outdoor Mass. We were surrounded by Harley bikers who were there for the 110^th anniversary celebration of Harley Davidson.

“Like the miracle of loaves and fishes one baby multiplied to five waiting to be baptized”

Fr. Bernie Rosinski writes his last blog post from the Philippines where he has spent the past two months teaching English. This time he talks about filling in as a “fireman,” celebrating Pentecost with the unexpected baptism of five children.

As the son of a Detroit city fireman, I often heard my father speak of his work as a fireman. It meant extinguishing conflagrations that posed a threat to life and property. For awhile, growing up, I had a hyphenated vocation: priest-fireman and then gradually let go of the second part of the hyphenated name. Imagine my great joy when I heard that serving in a parish on a weekend to substitute for the pastor or assistant of a parish, particularly one where SCJs worked, was frequently referred to by my SCJ colleagues as being a “fireman”.

Fr. Bernie Rosinski

Recently, here in the Philippines, I was called on to be a “fireman”, to say an English Mass on Pentecost Sunday in Our Lady of Fatima Parish in the Archdiocese of Cagayan de Oro. My chief surprise was the fact that in the Philippines, parish churches frequently schedule Mass in English for their Sunday services.

During the course of the week leading up to my impending duty as “fireman” I also learned that I would be required to administer the sacrament of baptism to one child. When Sunday actually rolled round, like the miracle of loaves and fishes, one baby multiplied to five waiting to be baptized.

The baptisms took place before Mass at the front entrance to the church. Fortunately, the entrance was covered with an extended church roof that protected us from the sun. The entrance area was big enough to accommodate the 50-75 family, relatives, and friends of the parents and all, it seems, were fortified with cameras, especially cell phone cameras.

When I first saw the ritual book I panicked; it was in Filipino, which I do not know. I then prevailed upon a woman catechist to translate my English while I read from an English language ritual. We soon stopped the translating. Most of the people responded in English to the various questions that are asked during the course of the rite, e.g.: What do you ask of the Church for this child? Baptism! And: Do you renounce Satan and all his evil works? I do.

Mass followed in due course. And once again I was impressed with the manner in which Filipinos celebrate their Sunday Eucharist. The altar servers are properly dressed. The lectors or readers are suitably dressed in blue tunics and the women place a small white cloth on their heads. The ushers are women who have the same kind of tunics and head clothes, but the color is black. As a people who love music and singing, there are no one or two verse hymns in the course of the singing.

I was brought to the church by a young man in an SUV that had the archdiocesan coat of arms on its doors. The same man returned me home after Mass. I learned that the next day he was off to Manila to seek employment as a ship’s engineer for which he was licensed. He had great hopes but, as he told me, he had no sponsor. Employment was not sure. God grant him work!

Fr. Bernie helps a student with pronunciation drills

Fr. Bernie Rosinski is finishing his last week of teaching in the Philippines. The following is a reflection from him on “Philippine English” and his role in helping Filipinos to pronounce the language.

Linguistics is not my profession. I am not one of its teachers or practitioners except in a very incidental way. On two occasions now I have been to the Philippines to teach English pronunciation to Filipino and Vietnamese students. On those occasions I have tried to put into practice what I learned while obtaining a Master’s in Linguistic Science from Georgetown University. As my second tour of duty winds down, what have I learned from my experience? Was it worth going to the Philippines?

Let me deal with the initial question first. In my semi-professional opinion there is a reality I call “Filipino English.” It seems to me as valid a form of English as American, British, Canadian, Australian, South African, or any other form of English including Indian and Pakistani. Filipinos who speak English know its grammar and easily become familiar with it through media, sports and business interests. They only lack practice because it is not their first language. By preference they speak their native languages to each other. Only in international settings does their ability to use English manifest itself; also, it is one of the official languages of the country. Filipinos are schooled and instructed in it from grammar school on for better or worse. And this is a point that needs additional explanation.

Recording a student’s pronunciation

High school English instructors in the Philippines are not indigenous speakers of English; rather, they are native-born Filipino teachers. Many of these teachers are aware that their pronunciation of English is often inaccurate and thus have sought to obtain study visas to travel for immersion in English-speaking countries for a summer course, or a semester or two. Unfortunately, they are often denied the opportunity because immigration officials do not always approve the necessary paperwork. However, when Filipino English teachers are denied the opportunity to learn to pronounce a language, whether that pronunciation is American, British, or whatever, their Filipino students suffer.

Filipino English has some consistent pronunciation errors that indicate that they are systemic. Apart from the problems that printed words cause (English spelling and print causes grief throughout most of the world), pronunciation errors abound.

Here are just some examples of the systemic errors I have noticed: (1) the “s” sound; wherever it appears in print, the letter “s” receives the sound “sss,” thus the word “is” becomes “ISSS” instead of “IZ,” the word “his” is pronounced “HISSS” rather than “HIZ;” (2) words like “give,” “live,” and “river” which are pronounced “GEEV,” “LEEV,” “REEVER” respectively; and (3) “man,” “pat,” and “bat” are pronounced “MAHN,” “PAHT,” “BAHT.” In some English language cultures, these pronunciations are correct but Filipinos tend to want to speak American English.

Was it worth coming? That was the second question. In some respects, because the Filipino-style English tends to overwhelm all efforts at corrective pronunciation, an American coming to the Philippines to teach American pronunciation must feel like Sisyphus, the Greek condemned to pushing the huge boulder back up the hill.

However, my Filipino students assure me that my visit was very welcome: (1) they themselves desire to speak “American” English; (2) in the Philippines they are generally taught grammar and are given no pronunciation drills; (3) English is an important, worldwide means of communication; (4) special corrective courses in “American” pronunciation are extremely expensive and only the very wealthy can afford them; (5) although it isn’t necessarily the case in all cultures, Filipinos seem readier to hear and understand the American pronunciation of English than others.

These reasons were convincing enough for me. I am glad that I came.

Fr Bernie Rosinski, who is in the last two weeks of teaching English in the Philippines, writes about the recent first-vows celebration:

Four candidates professed their first vows as members of the Congregation of the Priests of the Sacred Heart for the Philippines Region at the novitiate in Dumalinao on the Island of Mindanao.

Bros. Joel, Ruel, and Alex are native Filipinos while Bro. Huan is from Vietnam. These four men were surrounded by their parents except in one case where the father was deceased. The mother and father of Bro. Huan came from Vietnam. Many, though not all of the men, also had brothers and sisters and nephews and nieces present. Additionally, many SCJs came from various places: the scholasticate in Manila, the seminary in Aluba, and parishes in cities near the novitiate. The ceremony took just about two hours , including the celebration of the Eucharist. Fr. Francis Pupkowski presided. He is the regional superior of the Philippines Region.

Fr. Bernie Rosinski

The ceremony concluded just about at midday; it was time to banquet and we did that royally. We even feasted on a whole roast pig. The banquet was conveniently catered and served buffet-style. People could grab a plate and eat inside in the dining room or roam outside to find table-and-chair settings under awnings and shade trees. During the course of the meal, which lasted several hours, an instrumental group of six elderly Filipinos played native Filipino music with its distinctive rhythms on three guitars, a mandolin, and two banjos. A number of guests danced, even two of our SCJs.  However, not this blogger!

While I have not visited all the novitiates of the congregation, I don’t think there is a more beautiful setting for a novitiate or for the celebration that we witnessed. Imagine an evenly shaped slope on a long ridge of a low mountain running east/west. Imagine that slope with areas cleared of trees except for coconut palm trees sparsely planted. Then imagine a set of connected one storey buildings built like a Chinese rice terrace up the side of that slope in one of the clearings. At the base of the terrace, imagine a chapel being made almost entirely of sliding glass panel walls facing East, West, and North with an immoveable glass wall facing South and looking out, down the slope, across a lengthy valley to another slope on an opposite mountain ridge about a mile and half distant and running parallel to the slope on which the novitiate is located.

Any novice who has to spend 14 months in this location must almost necessarily turn his mind to the Author of so much beauty, and prepare himself for a commitment that is total and unlimited.

When the ceremony and celebration ended, many visitors had to leave for their homes or work. Two SCJ parishes had parish feast days immediately following profession day (May 13): St. Matthias (May 14), and St. Isidore the Farmer (May 15). So they all scrambled. The afternoon, therefore, was almost novitiate-like in its quiet. This blogger spent nearly four hours reading, and looking, and wondering, and recalling his own novitiate days…

Fr. Bernie Rosinski (center) was the main celebrant at the Kasanag Daughters Foundation anniversary Mass

As noted previously, Fr. Bernie Rosinski has been writing blog posts from the Philippine Region where he has been teaching English since early April. The following is about his recent visit to the Kasanag Daughters Foundation, an SCJ program for abused women and girls.

I was invited to be the principal celebrant at an anniversary Mass on May 10, the 14^th anniversary of the establishment of a refuge for abused girls called the Kasanag Daughters Foundation. The work was begun by Fr. Eduardo Agüero, SCJ,and has been carried on by SCJ successors ever since. The most recent is Fr. Boboy, whom I met two years ago when I made my first trip to the Philippines.

I had never been to this house of refuge. However, I knew that since my last Philippines visit it had gone through severe damage from a typhoon which caused such extensive flooding that over 1,000 citizens of Cagayan de Oro, in northern Mindanao, died. Though no girls from the refuge perished, for a period of several months they lived in a building on SCJ seminary grounds while their building was cleansed of the mud and debris that infested it and then restored to a livable condition. On our way there, Fr. Andrew Sudol, SCJ, showed me the level the rampaging river had reached. It went over the rooftop of the residence.

Young girls in the Kasanag program

The Mass was to take place at 5:00 p.m.; due to a road accident that blocked our way, we arrived at about 5:30 p.m.. No one seemed terribly upset. Time has a different importance here. The refuge building has a small terrace-like yard outdoors and it was here that we found chairs neatly set and a table for an altar before the Virgin’s shrine. There was the inevitable loudspeaker system that seems a part of every Filipino parish or mission. Once we were vested, I was handed the microphone and Mass began.

We observed the usual opening rites and I was seated as the first reading took place and the responsorial psalm was sung. During that period, I noticed a very young girl sitting in the first row. I am guessing she was six inches shorter than her 20 or so “sisters” and could not have been more than 10-11 years old, definitely younger than the rest. All of the girls were wore a tee shirt of uniform color as did she. However, they seemed so eager and joyful whereas she seemed so weary and burdened; almost old. She had no smile on her face. Because she seemed so unlike the others this struck me forcibly. I drew some conclusions about her that I hesitated as an outsider to verify with the staff, but I surmised that she had arrived only recently and had been only recently been delivered from some horror whose effects still dwelt with her. I decided to keep an eye on her for the rest of the evening. Apart from one event at which she was animated and even laughed, she maintained that somber note as long as I observed her.

Mass proceeded through occasional drops of rain. The rain picked up at about communion time. And so our outdoor church conducted a rite for which the Roman Catholic Church has no guideline: we moved the outdoor altar to a place under a porch. It was there that we distributed Holy Communion and concluded with a blessing. The blessing seemed to affect the weather for the rain hesitated and then stopped entirely.

The entire Kasanag Daughters Foundation board and staff were introduced with a slideshow to the clergy and guests present. We learned that at the refuge there are college level students, high school students, and elementary school students among the girls. The refuge has a computer classroom that is very well equipped. One way up and out of poverty is by being computer savvy and thus employable. The slideshow was a PowerPoint presentation the girls themselves put together.

It was after all these introductions that that slideshow concluded with an exhibition of photos from the life of the girls at the refuge and the events they held and the places they visited. There was a lot of giggling as they recognized themselves in the photos. I saw that Fr. Johnny Klingler,  SCJ, was featured in some of them. He was the ESL teacher last year and had visited the refuge. It was during the slideshow that this youngest girl seemed happiest as she would hold up her hand and point her finger to various slides where she recognized her new friends from the refuge. I watched her new friends, too.  They seemed exceptionally kind and solicitous for her. My visit, however, was unlike anything I had expected. I am still mourning what seems like a child’s lost youth and innocence.

The diaconate ordination

As noted previously, Fr. Bernie Rosinski is in the Philippines teaching English until the end of May. He has been a dedicated blogger during his time there, this time writing about the recent final vows and diaconate ordination ceremonies. “As I sit writing this, I hear neighborhood children on the seminary grounds laughing and enjoying themselves as they play games with balls and tag,” he put in an email with the following blog attached.  “When the seminarians are recreating the neighborhood kids seem to sense it immediately and they gather quickly.”

With the sound of children and seminarians playing in the background Fr. Bernie writes:

Four members of the Philippines Region took major steps toward their ultimate goal of being ordained priests for service to the Church in Immaculate Conception Parish church in Aluba, Cagayan de Oro city, which was committed to the charge of the Priests of the Sacred Heart less than two years ago.

A banner outside the church celebrates the SCJs ordained to the diaconate

On May 6, Bros. Elpidio, Niño, Joseph, and Marlon pronounced their final vows before Fr. Francis Pupkowski scj, regional superior, and their fellow religious, family, friends, parishioners and seminarians. This step was a necessary one as a prelude to what took place next day since no one can receive sacred orders unless he has first been incardinated into a diocese or has become a permanent member of a religious order. The profession of final vows is that permanent commitment to the Priests of the Sacred Heart

The vow ceremony took place during Mass and was followed by a banquet on the nearby seminary grounds of the Priests of the Sacred. Under outdoor tents, the banquet for about 200 was catered by ‘Ma’am Tess’, formerly a hostess with Cathay Pacific Airlines, and her staff. One dessert treat was good ol’ popcorn but, for the rest, the meal menu was entirely Filipino, abundant, and delicious. It was a treat that would be repeated for an even larger number of guests the next day.

May 7, in the same venue, Archbishop Antonio, Ledesma, S.J. ordained these same four men to service of the church as deacons. In his homily, the archbishop of Cagayan de Oro city stressed three qualities he urged these men to strive for in their lives: humility, obedience, and service to the poor. He proceeded to ordain them deacons right after his homily.

As an eager and interested visiting spectator from the United States, I saw a small army of well-disciplined, cassocked and surpliced boys and girls carry out the various duties of altar servers: incense and thurible bearers, candle and cross bearers, portable microphone carriers, procession escorts, sacred vessel bearers, wine and water presenters, and for Holy Communion Eucharistic paten bearers. The parish also had a small complement of male and female voices which sang the responses and sacred hymns with great distinction and beauty to the accompaniment of a guitar and a small electronic organ. These services were repeated on both days. And since the drills and hymns required by the two liturgies differed in some respects, this meant much practice time.

Did this parochial paradise have any serpents in it? Yes, there was an occasional feedback squeal from a loudspeaker. But this blogger observed how swiftly these technologically sophisticate people remedied the situation. If I were a pastor, I’d like to have them on my team. 

Family and friends quickly try to get photos of their loved ones after the ordination

Members of a local sisters community joined SCJs and others at the celebration of the first SCJ house in the country.

Blessing, prayers and celebration

As noted earlier, Fr. Bernie Rosinski attended the dedication of the first SCJ house in Vietnam. Previously, he wrote about his initial impressions of Vietnam. Here, he reflects more specifically on the house and the dedication. 

“You are invited to attend the dedication. . .” The dedication took place in Ho Chi Minh City, formerly known as Saigon, Vietnam. It is the first SCJ building in the country. So, of course, I planned to attend and was glad of the invitation. [Fr. Bernie was nearby in the Philippines teaching English.]

After seeing the skyscrapers of modern downtown Ho Chi Minh, the use of the word “building” is rather pretentious here. We are speaking about a rather modest edifice. However, its construction was a boon to the city economy, even if only a small one. It took over a year to build and thus gave steady employment to many workers. It required materials and thus furnished purveyors the opportunity to sell goods. It needed equipping and thus helped local merchants provide household furniture and equipment. In other words, its existence benefitted the country, the local economy, and the SCJs who were pleased to invest funds in this fashion and in their own future.

We visiting SCJ dignitaries (as I use it here, “dignitaries” is a pretentious word) were taxied from their hotel at a reasonable morning hour to the site of the building. While awaiting the arrival of the bishop to bless the structure, these and invited guests had ample opportunity to climb the stairs and walk the floors to see the new construction. It was simple and functional: rooms to sleep in, eat in, study in, and pray in.

With the bishop’s arrival to conduct the blessing and dedication all the guests moved to the ground floor to witness the proceedings. It began with an outdoor ceremony at which Bishop Peter Kham and Fr. Tom Cassidy gathered to cut a red ribbon at the building entrance, a ribbon ceremoniously held by several Vietnamese religious women. After reading some prayers, the bishop proceeded to walk through the building and sprinkle holy water as is normally done at a house blessing. Fr. Tom Cassidy was one of the scissor-wielders because the US Province helped finance the new construction.

His work done, Bishop Peter departed and the remaining guests attended a liturgy that featured beautiful Vietnamese music and singing that was very reverential. In his homily, Fr. Tom made the point that every culture reveals a face to God that is unique in the world and that, if lost, is lost forever. When the celebration was complete, the group dispersed to the ground floor to await a very fine, catered banquet that again gave employment to the local economy. Guests were seated under tents and at round tables. I estimate the number of guests approached 300 or so. They included clergy and religious men and women. The laity were present in great numbers, many of them family and relatives of students. The celebration was also honored by the presence of local civic and military authorities who graciously shook hands with the foreigners visiting their country and made several toasts during the banquet. “Yo!”

While some people had actual cameras, everyone had a cell phone with its included camera function and so photos were made by everyone who could do so. People were asked to pose in a variety of settings and circumstances, grouped by table, or by garb, or by family, or by function, or by anything else that caught the photographer’s fancy.

In the early afternoon the party broke up with the arrival of the caterer’s truck.  His employees needed to take their equipment and themselves to another setting somewhere else in the city. People began to disperse. The building will slowly become inhabited in the weeks ahead.

An illuminated restaurant boat on the Saigon River

Fr. Bernie Rosinski took a break from his teaching duties in the Philippines to attend the inauguration of the first SCJ house in Vietnam. In this post he writes with his reflections on the former city of Saigon and the people of Vietnam:

Impressions of Ho Chi Minh 

My provincial superior made it possible for me to visit Vietnam the last week in April. As I was already nearby (teaching English in the Philippines), he suggested that I might be invited to attend the dedication of a new construction built for SCJ use. I was duly invited and there I passed one very enjoyable week.

So, what did I enjoy? What are my impressions?  What delightful memories do I retain?

Fr. Tom and Fr. Bernie share a meal in Vietnam

Jumbled and massed together, I would distinguish the civic, external memories from the ones I have of my SCJ colleagues. Together they form an overall pattern of hospitality and warmth that I was totally unprepared for, since I had lived in the era of conflict between Vietnam and the US. Never a soldier, I nevertheless witnessed TV coverage of the events that took place there on a daily basis (thanks to Walter Cronkite and CBS) and surmised that bad feelings existed between our two countries as much for the general Vietnamese population as for the Vietnamese SCJs. I was wrong, absolutely and inexcusably wrong.

Ho Chi Minh City (formerly Saigon) is a beautiful, modern city with many wide avenues and boulevards sided with parks. There are also narrower streets and alleys. Automobiles tend to be mostly taxis, though some people possess their own vehicles. And of course Ho Chi Minh has a system of city buses that works very well and on time. The most commonly used transportation, however, is the motorbike and motorcycle. Entire lanes are given over to them and they reminded me of Brazilian army ants on the move (witnessed on Animal Planet or NatGeo) because they moved together, five or six alongside each other, almost as if they were choreographed. They do not travel at very high speeds. And I once witnessed an entire family of husband, wife, and three children on one motorbike. However, that is not common.

While there are international businesses and banks located in large buildings on the downtown boulevards, there are many smaller businesses and restaurants located on connecting streets. Our SCJ hosts took us to visit some eateries and the menus (with photos and in Vietnamese, Japanese, and English) were overwhelming with the number of choices offered. The food quality and preparation was excellent. One evening, our entire visitor group was hosted on board a restaurant boat that sailed the Saigon River. From there we could see the city skyline and the lighting effects shown on various skyscraper buildings.

Fr. Tom, my provincial, and I toured the Presidential Palace with an English language guide and learned that, on occasion, rooms in this building are rented out to host corporate and civic meetings. I thought it was a good way to reduce the costs of maintaining it and wondered why the White House could not do the same. We also visited Notre Dame Cathedral and other places. While we were seated in the park to rest a bit, two shoeshine boys sought to polish my sneakers.

The same general feeling of benevolence and well-being was present when we visited our SCJ brothers. They fed us, conversed with us, guided us, and accompanied us in taxis to all the places we wished to go. They were eager to practice their English on us; it was a small price to pay to reciprocate their hospitable spirit. Fr. Tom and I resided in a small, nearby hotel. We could walk every day to meet our SCJ brothers.

Fr. Bernie (in hat) with other SCJs in Vietnam

Fr. Bernie Rosinski took a break from teaching in the Philippines to attend the inauguration of the first SCJ community house in Vietnam. Here, he writes about a few stumbles in his travels. Click here to read about the dedication itself, and click here to view an online photo album.

What not to throw away

Panic City. Stressville. Have you ever been in a foreign country and learned that you are missing a document that will allow you to return to where you came from? That happened to this blogger. And my visa for Vietnam was good only for one month. Visions of being jailed for non-compliance with Vietnamese law arose unbidden and I didn’t even know a good local lawyer. Panic City. Stressville.

After traveling to Saigon for the dedication of our first SCJ community house, I was preparing to return to the Philippines to continue teaching English as a Second Language (ESL). Along with Fr. Rino, SCJ, my traveling companion, I presented my passport and Cebu Pacific Airlines return ticket to the desk attendant. She asked for one additional document: a copy of a ticket or airline reservation OUT of the Philippines before she would allow me to enter it by issuing me a boarding pass. This is the standard practice in a number of countries, I guess.

Wouldn’t you know that my reservation copy of that ticket out of the Philippines was the last piece of paper I dumped before I left the Philippines for Vietnam! I was perilously close to the weight limit and forgot the legal practice. To make the weight limit I got rid of what I thought I didn’t need, including paper.

What to do? The desk attendant asked if I had a copy of the e-ticket on my computer. I didn’t even have my computer. Well, did I have it on my cell phone? I didn’t even bring my cell phone. Did I have a copy in my camera? I didn’t even know that people did those things. Talk about being technologically challenged!

However, Fr. Rino had his computer with him and we ran around the airport seeking a Wi-Fi area (that much I understood. . . ) where we could go online and retrieve my confirmation email from my webmail files. Finding such an area, we needed the password. At midnight, finding the people who know passwords is another exercise that can stress one out. But we did succeed. After lots of false starts we managed to make a photo of the required document and show the photo to the attendant. And my boarding pass was duly issued.

Arriving in the Philippines, I presented myself to an immigration official. A pleasant, matronly woman took my passport while I fumbled with my camera to make sure my photo document was ready to show her. She asked if I was Russian and I told her I was of Polish descent. She said I needed an entry visa and she was prepared to issue one good for 21 days. I responded by saying that I had a multiple-entry visa. “Sure enough”, she said after checking my passport. She then smiled and stamped my passport and never asked for the documentary proof that I had a ticket out of the Philippines.

When I had calmed down and had time to reflect, I felt she probably acted in this way because she knew that I would never have been allowed into the country the first time without that ticket. Home. Safe. Secure.

As noted previously, Fr. Bernie Rosinski is in the Philippines teaching English. We are grateful that while he is there he continues to write reflections for our province blog:

A phenomenon takes place virtually every day on this Island of Mindanao that in the United States occurs only twice a year. I am referring to the fact that here the sun rises at about 6:00 AM and sets each day at about 6:00 PM. Where this blogger comes from, the phenomenon happens only on the vernal and autumnal equinoxes: March 21/22 and September 21/22. Mindanao is merely 6° N latitude from the Equator.

Imagine, if you will, never having to use a jarring alarm clock to wake you from sleep up because the sun does that for you. Imagine, if you are a farmer, never having to change cow milking time due to a change to “daylight savings time’. Imagine, if you will, always having the kids traveling to and from school during daylight hours. Imagine. Once the sun goes down in the evening the body can relax, the family gathers together around the table and each one has time for each other.  Imagine, having a constant electrical power bill that barely fluctuates due to seasonal variation. Now you begin to have some idea of the daily rhythm of the Philippines.

Other rhythms exist here in the islands but need to be discovered and entered into. Some are local and some are zonal. There are rainy and dry seasons, for example, though I have yet to experience them. There are growing seasons and resting seasons. Then there is the typhoon season.

Finally, the Philippines form part of the “ring of fire” of volcanoes and earthquake prone areas that swing down from the Aleutian Islands in Alaska around Japan, China, Malaysia, Indonesia, the Philippines eastward to Chile, Peru, Central America, Mexico, and California in the Western hemisphere. Such disturbances are not rhythmical but occasional. And yet, over time, they too become part of the life here in the islands.