Happy April!

Well, I have discovered the main pitfall of blogging now...It's been more than three months since I got around to this project. Turns out it's very easy to procrastinate on blogging (as if I needed to tell anyone that!)

Last week I spent three days with my parents-in-law without my husband or his English-speaking sisters to speak for me and to me. Dan's mom and I discovered that we can communicate quite a bit if there is no one there to take over the conversation. Life there seems narrow, with a lot of hard work in the fields, and not much to do otherwise except gossip with the neighbors or go to church. But the inner lives of people can still be rich in reflection, experience and humor and the people of that area are known for their tenacious maintenance of traditional customs and ways in the face of the homogenizing trend of the modern world. Last week they celebrated the completion of rice planting in the traditional way, butchering a pig in almost every household, and performing thanksgiving rituals at each rice field. There was also a Thanksgiving Mass at the Episcopal Church, which used the prayers of 16th century England to celebrate the same events. Nobody seems to think this is a clash of culture or a peculiar mix at all, it's what they have been used to for their whole lives, and that's just what worship is like here.

For three days, I ate boiled pork and glutinous rice steamed in woven sugar cane leaves, and drank lots of coffee. They only eat meat on holidays, or at weddings and funerals, the rest of the time, the diet is mainly boiled beans and rice, with maybe some dried or canned fish for variety. Whenever we go there, we bring sugar and bread for treats, but these are mostly shared around with all the neighbors, you don't eat much of the bread you bring.

Have to admit, I was glad to get back to my own house and my own kitchen again later, and cook some vegetables, but it was a nice interlude and helped us develop a deeper relationship, which feels good. While I was there, Dan had to travel to Manila for a meeting, so he came back tired out and I came back refreshed. Since then, I've been trying to cook his favorite foods and let him get some rest. Now I have to get writing again!

Happy All Saints' Day

Happy November 1! Here in the Philippines, All Saints' Day is as big a holiday as Easter, and even bigger than Christmas Day. All Saints' is a time to go home to the family home town, have feasts, picnics, parties, and catch up on all the news with friends and relatives. And of course, to remember the dead. I don't know about other parts of the Philippines, but here in the mountains, there is no tradition of masks, processions, and certainly no trick or treat, rather, there is a special church service on the First where all the names of people remembered by members of the congregation are read out, our church had about 400 names. Afterwards, candles and pine wood are blessed and then lighted torches, reminiscent of the Light of Christ, are taken to the cemetery and set by each grave. Then the family brings food and has a picnic by the family graves, it's a chance for the living and the dead to get together and share a meal once a year.

It reminded me of Nepal, where the Hindu tradition is that the dead are remembered on the anniversary of their death with a special feast prepared for them. Once, I was with a rather pushy Christian evangelist who demanded of our host whether the spirits actually ate any of the food offered. Undismayed, the old man laughed and said, "They eat the juice of it, and we eat the rest."

I was reflecting today that we of the Western Enlightenment are the odd ones, not believing in spirits. Whether we believe in one Supreme God who runs creation on a scientific basis, or whether we believe in no supernatural at all, the idea that the dead are just gone, and nothing unseen can trouble us puts us in the minority of humans throughout history and around the world today. Most people have been and are perfectly comfortable with the spirits of the dead and other beings going about their business all around us, and sometimes overlapping their business with ours. And why not? Maybe the majority is more in tune with reality than we think!

Whoooohoooooo! Enjoy your autumn!

Anglicans

Well, it's been a busy ten days! On Oct. 17, here at our church, we had an ordination service for a young man whose family are members of this parish. He graduated from seminary a few years ago, and according to the system, served as an intern for a year or two, then was ordained as a deacon. After another two years' service, he was ready to be ordained priest. The whole town turned out the night before to butcher a pig and a cow and to cook the feast for all the visitors. Women don't help with butchering, luckily for me, I just helped peel vegetables, and wrap half-cooked rice in banana leaves to be steamed in little packets as a snack food for in-between meals. On the big day, the Bishop arrived early, and all the priests from nearby parishes. We served breakfast and lunch for the VIP's in our kitchen, while everybody else ate out in the yard. It was a lot of fun, but tiring, too.

Then there was a break on Saturday, then the usual three services on Sunday. On Tuesday, we went to Sagada for the funeral of one of the former Bishops of the church. He had been a special mentor of Dan's and was widely respected and known. Since it wasn't at our house, we just had to attend. He had been a leader of the whole Province of the Philippines, so all the serving and retired Bishops came for his funeral. With a lot of pomp and circumstance, his ashes were buried right beneath the altar of the Sagada church, as he had requested.

Thursday was the Consecration of a new Bishop. The Prime Bishop of the Episcopal Church in the Philippines plans to retire next year, so they elected a successor for him, who is now the Bishop of this diocese. So this diocese elected a new Diocesan Bishop at its last Convention, and he was consecrated by all the Bishops in another giant service, this one at the Cathedral in Bontoc. This service had a program afterwards with many presentations, including a song by the clergy spouses fellowship, of which yours truly is a member. We also danced to the traditional music provided by our spouses.

Not exhausted enough yet? Saturday was a wedding of the children of two priests, one of whom is a distant relative of Dan's. This time, only three Bishops were present, the others having gone home. Dan and I served as Sponsors, kind of like godparents at a baptism. You have to stand up and promise to support the young couple in their marriage. And then, surprise! Another feast!

So I have eaten an awful lot of boiled pork and boiled beef with fried noodles for the side dish this month! And danced and sung and worshiped more than usual, too. One of the perks of being married to a clergyman is that you get to attend more life cycle rituals than most people do. Especially when you don't know the people, it's a chance to reflect on life and life changes. I have also been reflecting on the differences between this tradition and the Congregational churches I was raised in. For somebody who had hardly ever heard of Bishops, I sure have a lot of them in my social circle now! And incense and wine in the communion, not to mention the use of about four different languages in all these services, depending on which part of the Bible is read, and which songs are chosen. I've decided that when it comes to ecumenicity, I'm a "grass is always greener" Christian. When I'm in a place like Nepal where worship services are very spontaneous, I'm in favor of more liturgical practice. Then when I come to a high church tradition like they have here, I'm all for spontaneity! Never satisfied, that's me.

cross-cultural marriage

One of the most effective ways to learn a new language and culture is to marry a speaker, or member of it. I don't recommend serial polygamy myself, I would hope that using this particular method once or twice would be enough for any one language learner, but to each his or her own! Since marriage into a new culture will be one of the recurring topics of this blog, I'd better introduce Danny, my husband since 2003. He's a priest in the Episcopal Church of the Philippines, a part of the worldwide Anglican Communion, and he is also a member of the indigenous Igorot people of the mountains of Northern Philippines. Together, we have been learning amazing things about ourselves and our home cultures, as well as the mysterious life of our spouse. He's disgusted when I pet the cat and I'm insulted when he spits on the potted plants on our veranda. He says it's a waste of time to wring out the clothes while washing them, and I say he never rinses them enough. This problem, of course could be solved quite simply by getting a washing machine, or a maid, but we have been living a fairly nomadic life since marriage, and are trying not to collect too much baggage, or too many commitments.

After our first wedding anniversary, back in 2004, I wrote the following story:

We were discussing where to go and what to do to celebrate our first wedding anniversary. After some deliberation, we decided to go to a nearby resort where they have a swimming pool and just lounge around by the pool. On the big day, I got ready, and then began a long process of waiting around for him to prepare. First there was one thing, then another, and the day wore on. Finally we were in the car, and then suddenly he said “I just want to go for an acupuncture session”. Well, that takes more than an hour! I was exasperated, but still trying to make the anniversary go well, so I just said “ok”. It was five pm before he finally started up the car and said, “well, let’s head to the resort now.” My exasperation reached a boiling point and I said waspishly, “well, it’s too late to swim now, but I guess we can see the resort, anyway.” He turned an astonished face to me and said firmly “Swimming is night time!” I was too flabbergasted to reply, so he continued, with heavy sarcasm “whaddya wanna do, swim during the DAY, when the SUN is shining?”
Um, I guess not…
It was after six when we got there, and, sure enough, there were a few teenagers in the pool. It was February, and maybe 500 to 900 meters above sea level, and I was wishing I had brought a warm sweater.But there were picnic shelters all around the pool under the trees and I realized that in May, when it’s too sweltering hot to sleep here in the tropics, people might well spend the night eating and drinking and dipping in the pool. Why didn’t somebody tell me when I married a Filipino that I should have asked “What time of day do your people swim?” But there are so many things you never thought of to ask: Where do you get dressed after you take a bath? (the living room). What is a good breakfast food? (instant Ramen noodles). Who does which household chores? (men can wash and clean, but never do grocery shopping).