Day 9 of 100 Happy Days
I realized over the weekend that it has been quite a while since I have found myself in the shoes of a guest. The indigenous communities I regularly go to now, I have been going to for three or four years. I am still a guest, as I will always be an outsider in these communities, but I have been privileged enough to have moved relationally closer to my host families over the years.
In one of the communities I went to, I have become the confidant of a few women. I had become someone they shared their family problems with, not so I can fix these, but because I am a trusted friend. In another community, I have been invited to participate in ceremonies (weddings, birthdays, etc.) as well as the mundane household chores (washing dishes, doing the laundry, helping the kids with homework, etc.). I have come to treasure all of these relationships and have gotten so used to going into these communities as a friend, younger/older sister, or distant relative that I can weave in and out of the fabric of community life somewhat unconsciously and sometimes effortlessly. I can even understand what people are talking about 50% of the time! :)
Going to a Talaandig community in Bukidnon for the first time required a few cultural protocols. As a first time guest, I had to go through the welcoming ceremony. The ceremony included three chickens (which became dinner a couple of hours later), wine, tobacco, inapugan (a kind of betel nut offering), and some coins. :)
It was a six hour trip back (which consisted of a motorcycle, jeepney, and bus ride) to where I live and I had originally planned to leave no later than 8 o'clock this morning. But breakfast wasn't served until 8AM. Haha.
As I was having breakfast with my hosts today, while light banter was being made, I was reminded of a meditation on hospitality. I was hyper-aware that I was a guest in an indigenous community. I had to make sure to keep my mouth shut unless I was directly spoken to, nod in agreement with everything the chief said, reserve my comments for myself, laugh and smile politely, and eat the food that was served to me with gusto. I wasn't sure what was appropriate half the time so I had to "feel" my way through the social interactions. I didn't know what the elders were talking about when they spoke in their native tongue. I didn't know exactly what was in the food I was eating. Most of all, I did not know when to leave the table. :)
It was a good trip. Though I arrived home a couple of hours later than I had planned, it was good to re-learn how to be a host and a guest--a core principle in our organization's Osmosis process. What best way to re-learn that principle than being in the shoes of a guest? :)
I realized over the weekend that it has been quite a while since I have found myself in the shoes of a guest. The indigenous communities I regularly go to now, I have been going to for three or four years. I am still a guest, as I will always be an outsider in these communities, but I have been privileged enough to have moved relationally closer to my host families over the years.
In one of the communities I went to, I have become the confidant of a few women. I had become someone they shared their family problems with, not so I can fix these, but because I am a trusted friend. In another community, I have been invited to participate in ceremonies (weddings, birthdays, etc.) as well as the mundane household chores (washing dishes, doing the laundry, helping the kids with homework, etc.). I have come to treasure all of these relationships and have gotten so used to going into these communities as a friend, younger/older sister, or distant relative that I can weave in and out of the fabric of community life somewhat unconsciously and sometimes effortlessly. I can even understand what people are talking about 50% of the time! :)
Going to a Talaandig community in Bukidnon for the first time required a few cultural protocols. As a first time guest, I had to go through the welcoming ceremony. The ceremony included three chickens (which became dinner a couple of hours later), wine, tobacco, inapugan (a kind of betel nut offering), and some coins. :)
It was a six hour trip back (which consisted of a motorcycle, jeepney, and bus ride) to where I live and I had originally planned to leave no later than 8 o'clock this morning. But breakfast wasn't served until 8AM. Haha.
As I was having breakfast with my hosts today, while light banter was being made, I was reminded of a meditation on hospitality. I was hyper-aware that I was a guest in an indigenous community. I had to make sure to keep my mouth shut unless I was directly spoken to, nod in agreement with everything the chief said, reserve my comments for myself, laugh and smile politely, and eat the food that was served to me with gusto. I wasn't sure what was appropriate half the time so I had to "feel" my way through the social interactions. I didn't know what the elders were talking about when they spoke in their native tongue. I didn't know exactly what was in the food I was eating. Most of all, I did not know when to leave the table. :)
It was a good trip. Though I arrived home a couple of hours later than I had planned, it was good to re-learn how to be a host and a guest--a core principle in our organization's Osmosis process. What best way to re-learn that principle than being in the shoes of a guest? :)
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| Songco, Bukidnon, Philippines |
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