It's funny how most of us don't know just how lucky we are. While we worry ourselves silly about getting the latest Nokia model, or getting on the web to see how much e-mail we received, others have a lot more different problems from us. I spent one day with people who have more pressing problems than most of us do and through them, I realized just how lucky I was. In my one-day stay with them, I discovered how much I really ought to be grateful for.

                It was March 18, 2000. I was the only immersionist left standing after just about everyone else backed out for one reason or another, settling for a different project instead. I wasn't really scared; not even apprehensive. I had a positive outlook that however bad my state will be, it will be an act of mortification on my part and thus, I am merely making a sacrifice for a grade, and toss in some idealistic "for my own good" drivel. What happened afterwards was something that I was really expecting: I was taken to a watered-down squatter area: Better Living Homes in Paranaque. The priest who took me there referred to it as "Bitter Living Homes". The people there had three squares or more a day, but relatively speaking, still live in somewhat deplorable conditions. In spite of their being  poor, I was treated like royalty.

                I was sent to a family consisting of the grandmother, her two daughters, her grandchild, and her son-in-law. I found it strange that these people make less than most of my classmates' monthly allowances and yet they still offered the best to me. I was sure they didn't buy soft drinks everyday, much less have more than enough viands and rice to nourish twice the size of their family. I was certain that they couldn't afford having merienda on a daily basis as well. Still, for that day, they hoped to make me feel as though I was merely taking a vacation there. And they succeeded in doing that.

                Immersions usually last longer than just a day. However, since our classes were about to end and graduation practices were about to begin, the priest decided against a longer stay. I must admit that at first, I experienced a lot of discomfort: no radio, no television, no high-tech appliance of the like. I was especially disoriented with the lack of a radio, since I listen to it more than I watch television. Nevertheless, I was able to cope since I needed to do just that- even for just a day.

                I was quiet at first. I just smiled and looked at them whenever they tried speaking to me. It took about an hour or so before the ice was broken. I took note of how gently Ate Ness* took care of her daughter, Senti. Ate Ness' younger sister, Joy, was equally caring. I struck a conversation with Ate Ness when she asked me how to mix some Amoxicillin. After giving an explanation, our conversation drifted to other, more engaging topics.

                As I spoke with her, she related to me how much she wished that Senti could have a good education. For a person looked down upon by society, she really had her priorities straight, and I was shamed in realizing that I can be so short-sighted at times, not seeing the greater scheme of things lying ahead. Her husband, Kuya Joel, spoke of the same things: poverty is not really a hindrance. It's a challenge. And they stood up to that challenge.

                If you look at statistics, Isn't it strange that most suicides are committed by well-off people? Isn't it strange that the richer you are, the less generous you get most of the time, even if you have more to share? Well, that is strange, and it humbled me to look at it that way. Everytime that I go to church, I pretend to be such a devout Christian, yet skip to drop so much as a coin in the collection basket. Even if I were to give, it was because I just had spare change that wasn't enough to buy me a token at the nearby arcade house. What about the rest of us? Haven't we been guilty of this as well? Haven't we acted no better than the so-called "elitists" we so despise?

                My gratitude goes out to those who took me in that March 18. They gave me an experience that both humbled and enlightened me, and if my words have somehow humbled or enlightened you as well, then I have achieved my objective in writing this essay. Even if these people may never see the day that they'd open an e-mailbox** and find this message there, their hearts will tell them that this is what they have shown to me. For me, it's enough that they feel my gratitude, even in spirit. After all, the greatest thing that they did for me was not by sharing to me their riches, but more so, in revealing to me my own. Think about it.

*Names have been changed to protect privacy

** Taken from an e-mail.

 

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