What to write about? Veteran journalists occasionally experience the writer’s block. What excuse can occasional bloggers make for not meeting their self-imposed deadlines? Is it called a blogger’s block, or bug, or what? Tell you frankly, various topics came to my mind, but I couldn’t get them to gel. Birds and bees, streets and statues, compasses and bearings, I thought about them. No kidding.
I wanted to write about the starlings (
stornini, to the Italians) that I used to see from my window in Rome and reflect on authority, organization and
esprit de corps. I wanted to write about Hidalgo street just outside San Sebastian campus and how it overflowed with devotees of Nuestro Padre Jesús Nazareno on a recent January date and plug in some historical notes on that statue which was brought by 17th century Recollects to Philippine shore and hearts. I thought of writing about the visually engaging but mentally intriguing film I saw one Saturday last December,
The Golden Compass, and reflect on whence should come our bearings.
I still think about them and maybe one day I’ll overcome this blogger’s block and bring them to life on paper.
For today, I’ll talk about bugs.
You see, I was bitten by a bug almost three years ago, and from time to time, the consequences would make themselves felt. One day, almost three years ago, I woke up and realized that the special happiness I was feeling could only have come from that bug. The African bug. Once you get bitten, you want to return to Africa, to Sierra Leone, in particular.
Another one I know was recently bitten by that bug, and he has written about his happy experience. When he told me about it day before yesterday, I had no doubt of accommodating him as guest blogger, since I’m still with this block.
Fr. Larry Garces, provincial secretary of the Augustinian Recollect province of Saint Ezekiel Moreno, was in Sierra Leone a few months ago. Why would someone with a doctorate in liturgy (2006, on John Paul II’s Agenda of Liturgical Inculturation) -- the first to get such a degree from San Beda Graduate School of Liturgy -- want to “waste all that” and live in the
tohu wabohu that Sierra Leone means, at least to liturgical purists?
Read on, and find more about the happy African bug. Because the journal, which Fr. Larry entitles, unassumingly, “Destination: Sierra Leone” is quite long, I am publishing it in parts.
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January 25, 2008. It took me a while to sit down and write this most blessed and unique experience. I must admit I was thinking of a masterpiece. I was thinking that maybe I should delay writing it until such a time that inspiration lifts me up to write magnificently about it. But I guess that time might never come. I just realized that I may have been delaying too much.
“What is it all about?” one might ask. I want to write about the love of my life! I am proud to say that I have fallen in love! I have fallen in love with a faraway land, a land of disillusion. And I can’t seem to get over it. I have reached the mission lands of Sierra Leone, Africa. The road to the realization of a childhood dream was not easy, though.
September 12. Before leaving for a meeting in Rome of the provincial secretaries with the secretary general of the Order, I previously secured permission from the prior provincial to go to Sierra Leone, and I was allowed, on the condition that the expenses would not be significantly bigger than those of a trip to Spain – which I needed to make in relation to my work. That was all that mattered to me, his permission. Since there was little time left before my departure for Rome, I decided to just apply for a visa for Sierra Leone once I was in the Eternal City.
September 21. I am quite ashamed to admit it, but I became more excited about the trip to Africa than about the meeting in Rome. The last time I was in Rome was ten years ago and it should have elicited unrest and anticipation but it felt like a cat’s whimper in my heart. And so it happened, I left for Rome with restlessness. I did not even mind the fact that I had to look cute so the lady at the desk would allow me to carry an overweight suitcase into the aircraft. Nor the fact that my flight, which was supposed to leave ten minutes after midnight, did not fly until 3 a.m. And to think that I was already in the airport at 9 p.m! So what supposedly was a three-hour stopover at Dubai was reduced to just 45 minutes. I had to run around because the airport of Dubai was gigantic! It was no surprise that when I arrived in Paris, my baggage was left behind and could only be retrieved later in the evening! What a foreboding!
October 1. During the days of our meeting with the secretary general of the Recollects, I was in constant contact with our missionaries in Kamabai and Kamalo, in Sierra Leone. Fr. Manjy Lipardo suggested that I write the Bishop so that he could get me a landing permit. This was a new procedure in lieu of sending my visa application and passport to London or Brussels. Taking his suggestion, I sent all the pertinent data to the bishop and requested our Procurator General to reserve an airline ticket for me. The ticket was quite expensive though, so I had to consult the provincial about the matter first. I thought to myself, maybe he wouldn’t permit me, this was the end of my dream!
October 2. The provincial asked me to discern whether my trip to Sierra Leone would have advantages and positive results to the missionaries. I honestly admitted that in the end, after all is said and done, the ultimate advantage would be personal. I would have a personal experience of their daily life, a personal assessment of their situation. I would see their environment, their workplace, their tools and logistics, and I would have a foretaste of their problems and difficulties. I could bring this knowledge and experience with me and share them to others when the need arises or when the opportunity suggests. This little experience could help in the campaign for funds. On the part of the missionaries, they expressed their delight and excitement about my trip. They thought it would be a big help to their morale, and a sign of hope for the natives. With prayers and some intercessions, the provincial finally allowed me to go – despite the big amount needed for the trip.
My next problem was the landing permit. The bishop was in a synod and so he could not attend to my needs. I had to make several follow-up calls to ensure that I would be able to enter the country. Meanwhile we were continuing with the meeting of the provincial secretaries. The former secretary general of the Augustinians was invited to give us a talk on document preservation and organization. Our father general was always present in the discussions. The procurator general to the Holy See also gave us a conference on how to go about the difficult cases of some religious. The exchange of views was quite interesting, though whenever I was called to share my opinion, I could speak only with great difficulty. My Spanish is still very crude; I can manage to understand, but speaking is an entirely different thing!
Part of the program of the meeting was an audience with the Pope. We were of course positioned just a few meters from the Pope. And I noticed that there is something different with this Pope. I mean, I know that he is not John Paul II but he simply does not exude the same aura that I used to feel with the previous pontiff. I was up close with John Paul II and just being near him caused me goosebumps! For a while, my mind was taken off from the worries about my visa and my trip to Sierra Leone.
October 7. A few days before my scheduled trip, I was able to talk to Fr. Lipardo in Kamabai and he said that I already have a landing permit. Oh, what a joy! I felt the anxiety all over my spine! God is good indeed! He still makes miracles happen! This is a dream come true! Despite the fact that I lost all the data in my computer – compliments of a virus I got from the cable connections of our house at Sistina 11, I used my back-up hard disc and communicated to everyone – who cared about my sojourn – that my trip would go on as planned!
October 10. Fr. René Paglinawan, a former missionary of Sierra Leone was online, and we chatted about my trip. He was warning me to be wary of the African bug that could bite me into a euphoric state and make me want to go back to Salone (Sierra Leone)! Our conversation went to the preparations for the trip. And out of the blue, he asked whether I had had vaccination for yellow fever and taken prophylactic medicine for malaria. I turned pale with fear! Why did I not think about that? How could I miss that part? I had to admit to him that I did not have any. He told me that it used to be a requirement before entering the country, though he said that if Bishop Biguzzi’s people would be at the airport, I could easily get into the country without the requirements. I looked at my watch, it was three in the afternoon, and I was leaving early the next morning! So I said goodbye and grabbed Fr. Radney, a Filipino Recollect studying in Rome, to accompany me to the hospital.
We checked with some pharmacies nearby. We were given an address and we took a cab to reach the hospital faster. We arrived at Hospital of St. John and managed to see two orderlies, who, despite the fact that it was almost six in the evening and all the offices were closed, tried to assist us. In the course of the interview, the lady orderly looked me straight in the eye and said (in Italian): “Look, you are going to Sierra Leone – a country known for malaria, yellow fever, and other viral infections – without any medical preparations, no shots whatsoever, and having no safety measures at all! Are you committing suicide? Do you want to die there?”
Maybe it was due to my excitement that I forgot about this altogether. I just had to absorb everything she was telling me. She even told me to postpone my trip! I said to myself “I can’t postpone this trip!” Not when it means having to pay €110 for every change in my booking! Not when it means I might not be able to get the shots anyway and the postponement would mean forever!
Seeing my determined look, she yielded without further persuasion. With a sigh, she prescribed an insect repellant with the instructions for me to always wear long pants, white long-sleeved shirts and to spray myself often most especially towards dusk. I thanked them for their time and advice and went home with Fr. Radney. He was laughing at me, saying he had never seen me so meek and humble-looking! It was the first time, he said, he saw me allow somebody to rebuke me that way! If he only knew that deep inside me I was not comfortable at the receiving end …
Anyhow, I just consoled myself saying that this could be the sign of whether I was really meant to go to Sierra Leone or not. And if in God’s grace I would be able to go, then I could already die in peace! For by then, I would have fulfilled a childhood dream! By then, I would have accomplished everything I ever wanted to do! But of course, those are my plans! I do not know what else God is brewing for me – as his servant-priest, his missionary-priest!
