from the commuter

The photos which I took myself are random images of commuting and life. Enjoy the ride!

Sunday, April 24, 2011

"Apir" part 2

Commuter did not commute this time for this story. He was with his volunteer group who had gone to Manila for the Visita Iglesia last Thursday. He was relieved to be in a private car as they visited 14 churches, mostly in Manila, for the Visita Iglesia. Had he commuted, he would have atoned all his sins.

It was a beautiful day, with occasional winds and agreeable temperature. We left Paranaque at six that Thursday morning. The road was clear, generally. Our first church was Baclaran. It was my first inside the Church. Next was Malate Church. The first time I ever heard mass in Malate was during a Simbang Gabi, after clubbing in Malate way back in college.

Malate Church
Next was the Ermita Shrine (Nuestra Senora de Guia Church in Ermita). It was my first time to be in this church. Since I was not very superstitious, I did not make wishes. My companions tell me that a first-timer in a church can make wishes.
Ermita Shrine
Then, we were off to the walled city of Intramuros. There was a Chrism Mass for priests at the Manila Cathedral. It was impossible for us to get in then. So, we walked a meters to the San Agustin Church. The Chrism Mass might be over after going to San Agustin Church, the oldest stone church in the country.  Its ceilings never fail to amaze me. This church was one of the reasons for my love affair with Intramuros.
San Agustin Church
When we got back to Manila Cathedral, there was still mass. Manila has many other churches, so we moved on to another historical Manila district - San Miguel.
 
Even priests have fans. The crowd outside Manila Cathedral  was waiting with banners for their respective parish priests.
At San Miguel Church near Malacanang

As we were approaching San Miguel Church, there was a procession. We did not anymore enter the church, instead we said our prayers outside. I don't know what this procession is called. Do you?

We went to school-based churches after that. There was St Jude, San Beda and San Sebastian. It was the San Sebastian Church that captured my imagination. It was the first and only steel church in the whole of Asia. From its view outside, it was majestic despite the many wires crisscrossing the view.

San Sebastian
If my memory serves me right, this was taken in UST. 
Quiapo Church
After UST, whose campus we admired, we went to Quiapo Church.

"Mall of Asia Church"
We were heading back towards South. We went to that church near the Mall of Asia. By this time we were already tired but we were closing in to our 14th Iglesia. But hungry we were not because at lunch time we were in the area of Binondo Church. We had dumplings for lunch!

Our penultimate church was St Jerome in Alabang.
St Jerome Church in Alabang
14th Church: Tuloy sa Don Bosco ChurchAMEN. 

"Apir"

I think I owe my provincial upbringing how I view almost all new experiences I gain in Manila, and I am grateful for this upbringing. I always tell myself to see everything through the eyes of a provincial lad and a gawking tourist. This way, I experience everything with novelty. This outlook has not changed since I embarked on my college-searching in the summer of 2000 in Manila.

Summer of 2011, Holy Week to be exact, was quite a beautiful cultural experience for me. Only later did I realize it was as spiritual as it cultural.

It started when a friend asked me to buy him palm leaves for Palm Sunday. The idea of waving the leaf by the church's entrance door did not appeal to me. I don't recall ever doing it in the past; perhaps mother did all the waving but never did I. It was simply not the 'wave-my-palm-leaf-kind-of-guy.' But what was I to do with this leaf on my hand?


As the people converged at the door, I was drawn to the strong display of faith of the people. I tiny spray of the holy water was needed. I knew the religious significance of the act, but the desire to share the same experience with the church-goers was what made me wave my leaf.


I felt the water on me. It was a good feeling. I might not completely understand everything that happened, but it surely was an interesting experience. 

I am still awed by the show of faith of these people. I am hoping that I will get to show the same.

Sunday, April 17, 2011

Charity



It feels as if I have made it as a writer when an article I sent to the Philippine Daily Inquirer was published for its Youngblood section last April 16, 2011.  I was euphoric. I could not believe that I made it there. hehe


Here it is....
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 CHARITY

MY MOTHER is a good woman. She is wonderful and does good deeds like charity and civic work. But one charity work I don’t exactly approve of is her almost daily contribution to the Philippine Charity Sweepstakes Office (PCSO).

This kind of charity, I suppose, must be either infectious or hereditary. My dad and my older brothers support each other in the same altruistic endeavor. It is only me who has not taken after them in this regard. But although I do not support them, there is a part of me that wants them to succeed because their success could be translated into charity work at home. I’m sure I’m going to get a share of any winnings because, as I said, mother is a good person.

My parents have provided us with a beautiful four-bedroom house equipped with all the modern conveniences to keep their grown-up children at home. No doubt they will definitely give us more once either mom or dad wins that huge lotto jackpot.

My mother often talks of giving money to this and that cause, buying us this and that thing, and going to different places should she win the lotto. I listen to her dreams; in fact, I am thrilled that mother can still come up with fairy tale-like scenarios at her age. However, with the excitement I feel when I hear her stories comes the distressing thought that mother might have finally resigned herself to the idea that financial advancement can only be achieved by luck. This thought saddens me more because mother is not the only one who subscribes to this belief. Majority of Filipinos do—just look at the long lines every time the lotto jackpot hits P50 million.

The queues have made the PCSO chairmanship one of the most-coveted government posts nowadays. There is just too much money made in this office, most of them coming from poor Filipinos who shell out at least P10 a day to bet on their favorite number combinations.

I am not sure if the transfer of the PCSO to the Office of the President is a good move. But one thing is for sure: it continues to make money wherever it may be. In its many years of operation, betting in lotto has become a habit for many. Office workers, construction workers and simple folks rush to the betting stations as the cut-off time draws near. The visible outcomes of their constant patronage are the many ambulances parked at the PCSO complex and the assistance that numerous patients get in government hospitals.

To say that the recipients are lucky would not be exactly right. It is either they are indigents or extremely sick. I thank God that I am neither of the two. I do not intend to receive charity under those conditions, although I am certain that help will come in whatever form when the need arises. Filipinos have always been like that.

So, the news about Filipinos being the most charitable in Asia did not come as a surprise to me anymore. I have stopped being surprised at the immense capacity of Filipinos to share their resources. When “Ondoy” happened, there was an outpouring of help everywhere. The typhoons and other calamities before and after that drew the same kind of generosity. What was newsworthy about the survey, however, was that our poor nation was willing to give more than our richer neighbors.

The sight of the poor giving whatever little they have never fails to astonish me. In the school where I work, I see my underprivileged students give out coins from their tattered purses when donations are asked.

When I tried to analyze the matter, I was led to think that it was probably because of our Christian upbringing. Maybe it was, but most, if not all, religions preach charity.

The Catholic church I go to discourages parishioners from giving money to the street children waiting outside the church. Apparently, some people do not heed the priest’s advice. The growing number of street children outside the church indicates that goodwill to mendicants is thriving.

Maybe, this is what fuels charity in our country. For as long as someone is in need, there will always be someone who will give. Or it could be the other way around: for as long as someone is willing to give, there will always be someone who is ready to ask. And who would not accept charity? “Grasya na ’to,” one would say.

Generally, we are a good people. This goodness, whether innate or indoctrinated, is what drives our altruism. Some vicious entrepreneurs take advantage of this goodness to jumpstart their business by sending out hundreds of street minions to seek investments, a.k.a. alms. The good people’s “investment in heaven” turns out to be something else.

The same principle is practiced by many wise individuals or groups who milk people and institutions by coming up with “foundations.” In the process, they shield their precious funds from taxes. I can only hope that the money reaches the supposed beneficiaries.

At this very moment, someone is receiving charity. Before I can even punctuate this sentence, I know someone is giving out charity. Inside a cubicle in Quezon City, Rep. Manny Pacquiao’s staff is still drafting letters to endorse to a third party the many solicitation letters his office is getting.

Before the late night newscast, I wait for my mom’s loud shriek or call to announce that she finally got the winning combination. During those countless evenings that I failed to hear such an announcement, I go to bed and mentally prepare myself for work the next day. Before I fall asleep, I tell the Lord that P2 million will be just fine.

Ralf Roldan, 27, is a teacher in Alabang.