Empty Coke Cans - part 2

So why were these children in the streets collecting Coke cans when they were supposed to be in school? I thought I had an answer.

I've just come back from Bangkok (Provincial House) asking to volunteer for the Battambang project where we run a small literacy center for children of brick workers.
I reasoned out that if these kids would not be taught to read and write, they would not be able to join in the educational mainstream.
Consequently, they would become our future street kids.
I thought that this small work in Battambang (around 200 kms from Phnom Penh) could be a potential solution to the street children problem because it tries to solve the problem at its very roots - PREVENTION!

To cut the story short, my request was not granted. In computer language - Access denied!
It seems to me that our politics (religious policies like: not staying apart from the community, no independent lifestyle, etc) would rather have them turn into street children first so that we can come up with works (institutions) for the street children later.
I'm not complaining, just asking?

Empty Coke Cans - part 1

Today our cooks had a day off. So our Dutch volunteer and I went outside to eat.
As we were finishing our meal at a restaurant, I noticed two pairs of small eyes staring at us through the plants outside. They belonged to two small children, barefooted, dressed in patched-up clothes and carrying a sack.
My companion looked at me and we both immediately understood that they were not staring at us but at our empty Coke cans.

With a quick nod at my friend, he got up, grabbed our empty cans, went ourside and deposited them inside the children's sack.
Instantly their faces brightened up.
No words were needed to express their gratitude for the cans. They left happilly prancing through the streets - becuase they have collected their first cans for the day at the end of which they would get a few cents in exchange.

This incident made me ask myself the eternal question: "Why were these children on the streets?"

Fishing

They (teachers and students) went fishing today. They were all geared up with rods, baits and nets. They came back with a bucketful of fish - not from the sea but from the market.

Well, at least we'll have fish for dinner tonight. Still something to be thankful for, isn't it?

Stolen Things

Some vernier calipers were stolen the other day from the machine shop by a student. I feel sad. It's like that story of a dog biting the hands of the guy that feeds it.

But even at Don Bosco's time, the first "boarders" whom he gave shelter to ran off with his blankets and pillows. I wonder what if Don Bosco stopped there and said: " From now on, I will never trust these brats!" - then it would have been a disaster. I would not be here today doing this.

Thank you Don Bosco for not losing your faith in them. But you better help me do something about mine... and don't let anyone steal that (faith) away from me.

Dependency

As I was formatting my Rector's computer, I told him that I prefered to "teach him the ropes." Of course it would have been easier for me just to fix the computer myself. But then he would constantly be dependent on me all the time. Instead, making him (almost 70 yrs old) do things himself would surely be more difficult and time-consuming for both of us. However he would not have to call me after.

They say dependency is something we consciously impinge on others. We sort of want people to depend on us always. though it makes us feel better emotionally, in the long run, we create perpetual babies. It's true that it is a joy to carry a baby in our arms. We like it and so does the baby. But the baby ultimately has to learn to walk and this he does by moving away from us.

As for me, I'd rather let the baby walk. After all if You do not baby me, it doesn't mean You do not love me. You love me so much that You gave me the "freedom" to walk away or towards you. And that is Your Glory.

Chosen-Called-Consecrated

"Hinirang kita mula sa sangkatauhan.
Tinawag kitang maglingkod sa aking bayan.
Mananatili kitang kapiling at kasama magpakailanman."

Hinirang-Tinawag-Kapiling... Chosen-Called-Consecrated.
I still remember 13 years ago that great privilege yet such a great responsibility You have given me. It's a very beautiful gift. I still feel I am not worthy of it. There have always been ups and downs... but no regrets! I'm going on with you by my side. I really do now know what to expect next but I trust you.

"St. John Bosco teach me to have a heart like yours - a heart as wide as the seashore."

Bumped

Today I received a letter from my godmother narrating to me how she was bumped by a car. Just some minor injuries she said - because she knows someone was watching over her.

Funny! I too was bumped by a motorcycle recently while I was crossing the streets of Phnom Penh. I wanted to call for help after I found myself flat on the road.
Traffic stood at standstill. Ironically the guy who bumped me happened to be a policeman. He got up from his fallen motorbike, approached me and humbly apologized sincerely (for the Khmer culture this was most important).

As for me I immediately got back on my feet hurriedly (but oh so painfully) even though my entire body was racking in agony... just because a throng of curious people were about to encircle me. I would have died of shame!
Now were they simply curious or did they wonder how fortunate I was that...
Someone up there was watching over me.

The Call

I've been trying the whole week; my call couldn't go through. Finally at the stroke of midnight I managed to contact Papa.

You can feel from his voice how happy he was hearing from me. Boy! He must have missed me, but so did I. I did miss him too. After all my last phone call was a year ago.

This is a kind of... the same feeling though whenever I leave off my prayers for a long time... could feel Your Voice missing me... and I ... You. Somehow just like my call to Papa - how I wished I placed it sooner and more frequent.

But hey! There's a new year ahead... and thanks... I could still do it.

Missions: my Reflection

Years back, I applied for the missions. I remember The Counselor for Missions asking me: "What is missions? Why do you want to go to the missions?"
At first, I was stupefied to have been asked what I thought to be a very elementary question for my age and experience. I felt like responding: "I've been ten years in the ministry and not a rookie... I suppose I know what I am doing... how many pages of write up would you like me to do on this?"

That was then! If you ask me today - I still would not be able to answer.
For me, Missions is a search for what God would want me to do in a particular time and place amidst a particular group of people.

For some it would mean bringing Christ to the unevangelized. But I'm kind of embarrassed by this thought after what I heard from my friends back home:

"When you enter a house, always remember that God had been there long before you entered -
And he will still be there long after you've gone away."

For some others, Missions is witnessing - But how do you witness to others who misinterpret your brand of witnessing as lack of radicality?

For me, Missions will always be my continuous search for its very meaning and essence. It is a way of travelling rather than a station I arrive at. It is this process of searching that makes me discover many things along the way. It is this that can keep my heart open.

The Khmers

I read this in an opinion column somewhere:
"Given their desire to improve their lot by any means necessary, the Vietnamese (in Cambodia) are often labeled - 'industrious.' What is seen in the Khmer's 'tolerance for physical privation' - others have tagged as simply 'laziness.'

I thought to myself... maybe it's just because they have less "created needs" than the rest of us. Thus they are more "contented" with the "little" that life gives and offers.

Actually reminded me of St. Therese: "God alone is enough!" - so why long for more?