The Mayon Volcano, in Albay, Bicol, was the backdrop for the recent social immersion (Oct. 20 - Nov2, 2011) of the current students of IFFAsia.
When I first heard that we were going for social immersion in Bicol, I remembered my experience with the Catholic Student Group (CSG) going for exposure and living with foster families. This time, my motivation for going was to really experience God in the lives of the people and to see His surprises for me. I was quite excited, but at the same time, a little bit nervous. All thirteen students were separated from each other, as each had to live with a different foster family. I found it difficult at first because I knew that my weakness is relating and communicating with new people. Another difficulty for me is that I could only speak English and very little Tagalog. However, I took this as a challenge to overcome my difficulties.
Before leaving IFFAsia, we were divided into three groups, and each group was assigned to stay in a different barangay (village). My group stayed in Barangay Mariroc of Tabaco City, Province of Albay. My most significant moment during the social immersion would be the time that I spent with my foster family, consisting of my mother, two brothers and two sisters. My father passed away 12 years ago because of a heart attack. My family owns a small business (sari-sari store) and a rice field, and raises pigs. This is their source of income and they live a simple life, not really poor, but they have just enough to survive.
My mother always found time to talk with me, even if she had housework to do. I wanted to help her with the household chores, but most of the time, she did not allow me to do anything. I felt quite guilty of not being able to help. But, I often found ways to help with the housework. For example, I would just automatically wash the dishes or sweep the floor without telling my mother or my brothers and sisters. For me, it was my way to integrate with the family, and to make them feel that I was actually part of this family, not just a visitor.
There was a moment when all of us were inside my mother’s room, sitting together, looking at pictures in Facebook and watching TV. I really felt their family bonding is very close, and it reminded me of how my bond with my own is very much lacking in this sense. I was quite sad during meal time because I could neither converse with them in their dialect nor even speak in Tagalog. I was only listening to them, but could not really understand what they were talking about. However, I really loved the atmosphere because I could feel their love for each other (even if they do not literally say “I love you”) just by hearing them talk and laugh, and watching them do household chores together without my mother telling them.
One evening, I told her, “Thank you, mum, for cooking for me. I really appreciate what you have done.” Surprised, she smiled and replied, “It’s okay. I always cook for my children and they really love my cooking.” As I reflected on this, I realized that I never thanked my own mother for cooking for me, but I was thanking my foster mother whom I barely knew.
On my last morning there, I woke up early around 4:45 am. My mother woke up, too, and asked me about the time. So, I told her. I planned to continue sleeping, perhaps wake up at 6:00 am. But, before I could do that, she hugged me, just as my own mother used to do to me when I was still small. My tears slowly flowed without me noticing it. It was really a tight hug, her way of telling me that she loved me. I felt that God was trying to remind me that I am my parents’ daughter and will always be their child no matter what happens.
When my friends and I left the barangay, I also came to know that, years back my foster mother actually lost a daughter because of a miscarriage. If she were alive, she would be of the same age as I am. My tears began to flow again. I really felt that God has given me the right place to stay in. For this family, I was like an incarnation of the daughter and sister that my foster mother, brothers and sisters would have had, a long-lost daughter who came back to them. For me personally, God has found me through them. I lost myself as a daughter and sister to my own family. Before, I did not even treasure my own, but now, I really miss them so much. I can say that I learned to understand my relationship with my family, though not fully yet. I learned to appreciate each one as he or she is, and I think living far away from them made me realize the many important things about my family back in Malaysia.
Before leaving IFFAsia, we were divided into three groups, and each group was assigned to stay in a different barangay (village). My group stayed in Barangay Mariroc of Tabaco City, Province of Albay. My most significant moment during the social immersion would be the time that I spent with my foster family, consisting of my mother, two brothers and two sisters. My father passed away 12 years ago because of a heart attack. My family owns a small business (sari-sari store) and a rice field, and raises pigs. This is their source of income and they live a simple life, not really poor, but they have just enough to survive.
Sheerah (right), with Aleona (left) and a young Bicolana lass.
My mother always found time to talk with me, even if she had housework to do. I wanted to help her with the household chores, but most of the time, she did not allow me to do anything. I felt quite guilty of not being able to help. But, I often found ways to help with the housework. For example, I would just automatically wash the dishes or sweep the floor without telling my mother or my brothers and sisters. For me, it was my way to integrate with the family, and to make them feel that I was actually part of this family, not just a visitor.
There was a moment when all of us were inside my mother’s room, sitting together, looking at pictures in Facebook and watching TV. I really felt their family bonding is very close, and it reminded me of how my bond with my own is very much lacking in this sense. I was quite sad during meal time because I could neither converse with them in their dialect nor even speak in Tagalog. I was only listening to them, but could not really understand what they were talking about. However, I really loved the atmosphere because I could feel their love for each other (even if they do not literally say “I love you”) just by hearing them talk and laugh, and watching them do household chores together without my mother telling them.
One evening, I told her, “Thank you, mum, for cooking for me. I really appreciate what you have done.” Surprised, she smiled and replied, “It’s okay. I always cook for my children and they really love my cooking.” As I reflected on this, I realized that I never thanked my own mother for cooking for me, but I was thanking my foster mother whom I barely knew.
The IFFAsia students presenting to a local community in Bicol.
On my last morning there, I woke up early around 4:45 am. My mother woke up, too, and asked me about the time. So, I told her. I planned to continue sleeping, perhaps wake up at 6:00 am. But, before I could do that, she hugged me, just as my own mother used to do to me when I was still small. My tears slowly flowed without me noticing it. It was really a tight hug, her way of telling me that she loved me. I felt that God was trying to remind me that I am my parents’ daughter and will always be their child no matter what happens.
When my friends and I left the barangay, I also came to know that, years back my foster mother actually lost a daughter because of a miscarriage. If she were alive, she would be of the same age as I am. My tears began to flow again. I really felt that God has given me the right place to stay in. For this family, I was like an incarnation of the daughter and sister that my foster mother, brothers and sisters would have had, a long-lost daughter who came back to them. For me personally, God has found me through them. I lost myself as a daughter and sister to my own family. Before, I did not even treasure my own, but now, I really miss them so much. I can say that I learned to understand my relationship with my family, though not fully yet. I learned to appreciate each one as he or she is, and I think living far away from them made me realize the many important things about my family back in Malaysia.
Sheerah Yangus comes from Sabah, East Malaysia. She belongs to the current batch of students under the Basic Formation Program at IFFAsia. She writes about her reflection on her recent experience in Bicol.
