by Abraham M. de la Torre
WHEN ATE BETTY asked me to join her when she visits Arko ng Pilipinas, Inc. again, my response was quick and affirmative. I promised her I would write about the Punla Community and seeing and getting a feel of the place and its people would greatly boost my literary enthusiasm. She has given me materials to read. I perused them to prepare myself for the actual meeting with the “core members.” (They are all adults now who did not quite leave their childhood. To respect their condition and the significant strides they have achieved, let us call them kiddults. In praise as well of the painstaking care and concern their handlers – or house leaders – empowered them with.)
Arko is a non-stock, civic, charitable organization affiliated with l’Arche, an international federation of communities which welcome and house people with mental handicaps. L’Arche was founded in 1964, when Jean Vanier welcomed three mentally-handicapped men to live with him in a French village near Compiegne. He called the house l’Arche, French for “the Ark,” depicting the covenant God made with His people. Vanier’s goal was to rescue people with mental handicap from a society that rejected them. His inspiration came from the Beatitudes; he has since unstoppably shared his life with the poor, particularly the mentally-challenged. Giving way to more communities being founded; there are now 137 of them in 40 countries around the world.
Punla (seed) is a community of Arko with two homes Biyaya (blessing) and Munting Bukal (little spring) in Cainta, Rizal for young people who are severely mentally handicapped. This was where Ate Betty took me that drizzly Monday afternoon on March 23.
Community Leader Ate Letlet welcomed us warmly to the two-story Development Center. Some of the kiddults were in a ground hall while awaiting the others to arrive, whereafter they converged on the second floor lounge for the tasking ritual. Since they had a visitor that day in my person, the ritual took a backseat to introductions.
I was given the privilege to go first. Then, one by one, the core members and the staff took their turns. As I was introduced to each core member, Ate Betty could not contain her wonder at my apparent familiarity with some of them. Which was not really surprising since the souvenir program that she asked me to peruse profiled seven of them; Rea, who easily related to my gaya Punla reference to her trip to France in 2014; Mariflor, who was still English-speaking so I encouraged it and she happily rose to the occasion; John Paul (or JP), a charming, smiling chap who kept repeating “Can You Feel the Love Tonight” a song he was recently inspired by; and Lala, who seemed self-absorbed initially but reacted with a smile to my mention of “Exodus.” Which must have triggered a recall of her participation in a pantomime in France some time back. Only Jordan, Mon-Mon and Benito were not there. The first two were having their siesta and the last one was in school.
Then Ate Letlet announced that I have a surprise for them. I asked them if they knew the song “Beautiful.” They all nodded in agreement. And so I sang and acted the song out, with them and the staff following my lead, to a T! Having done that, I said I have another surprise, the Tagalog version of the same ditty, which received similar interest. And we collectively rendered the number, like they knew it all along.
But we were pressed for time. Ate Betty’s car was color-coded so we had to be on the road before 3 pm. I so wanted to linger but settled with a brief tour of the place. I was heartened to discover that they have a chapel at the center of the core members’ sleeping quarters.
This piece aspires to applaud their upcoming twenty-seventh anniversary on April 12. On that momentous occasion, l’Arche renews its mission to make known the gifts of people with learning disabilities. Likewise, Arko invokes that Christ said, “Whatsoever you do to the least of my brothers you do unto me.” By that token, Arko praises God who loves the poor, the weak, the marginalized and outcasts of society. The so-called last, least and lost.
Arko believes that each person, whether handicapped or not, has a unique value and is a complete human being and, as such, has the rights of every living person: the right to life, care, education, work and happiness. Handicapped persons wounded in their capacity for autonomy are capable of great love which can be called forth by the Holy Spirit. It is in this context that Arko provides an atmosphere where handicapped and normal people live, work and pray together, and share their joys and sufferings as brothers and sisters.
Vanier himself believes that the mentally handicapped, through their very simplicity and weakness, offer much to society. They serve as a reminder that values of the heart are greater than those of the intellect.
The Jungle Rhythm
Ate Rica is an events organizer. That she was the master of ceremonies that morning of March 25 was not an accident. The program she was emceeing was an ender of sorts: end-of-term for Punla Development Center, the daycare that tails the simple morning lessons and the activities of the handlers and their wards.
She walked the audience through not only the program’s content but also the performers thereof, who were virtually most of what comprised the community. Of which she was an active, caring, involved part and parcel. It was no surprise, therefore, that she donned not only an emcee’s hat but also, soon enough, a cheetah’s garb, quite evident because her attire was similar to the core-member-cheetah’s lot.
The audience was a motley crowd: families of the kiddults, members of the Board of Directors and Community Council, visiting Fathers Stephen, Martin and Manuel from Malta and lay foreigners sympathetic and supportive to the community’s cause. Ate Rica did not apologize for speaking in English but explained to the Filipinos in the crowd that it was for the benefit of their American, Australian, British, French and Maltese friends.
Soon, the performers were made up and ready. And, like theater denizens, they emerged slowly, one by one, and lined up on the stage to lead the others in the singing of the national anthem. Mariflor and Mon-Mon raised the flag while everyone had their right hand on their heart from the start until the final strains of Lupang Hinirang. Then the pair went up the stage and led the opening prayer which was, to this spectator, another awesome singing-cum-acting-out of “Beautiful.” Small wonder why they instantly warmed to my lead the Monday before this day. It was followed by house leader Kuya Ban’s Tagalog prayer to Mother Mary.
Then the first act began. An excerpt from the Lion King. Which Ate Rica introduced through excerpts from the songs “Circle of Life” (the circle of life moves us all through despair and hope, through faith and love… till we find our place on the path unwinding in the circle of life and He Lives in You” (there’s no mountain too great, hear these words and have faith… He lives in you… He lives in me… He watches over everything we see. Into the waters, into the truth, in your reflection, He lives in you.)
The rationale for conducting the Recognition Day was for everyone to reflect/contemplate on the meaning and message of the songs and their relevance and connection to life in Punla Community. This is how the denizens experience life in Punla. Despite some moments of despair, they strive to live with hope, faith and love as they find their place on the path unwinding because they all belong to a great circle called the “Circle of Life.”
The Holy Spirit dwells in each one of us. This is what inspired her to share part of the lyrics of “He Lives in You.” We are constantly moved by the Holy Spirit in everything we think, do and say. She feels that, in the Punla context, the “He” in the song “He lives in You“ refers to the Holy Spirit. As the Spirit dwells in us, we strive to go through life’s journey believing that He will watch over us and help us remain truthful and faithful.
“The Lion King” is a favorite Disney fare not because its animal characters charm children but that its profound message touch adults as well.
And so Benito led the pack of tribesmen all energetically pumping their choreographic adrenaline up. Herds of elephants, deer and cheetahs lined up the center of the stage. The animals assembled into three circles and dispersed while the Lion Family moved in and stood in their midst with the tribesmen encircling them. Kirt was a frontliner, essaying the role of Rafiki, an intelligent, beaming baboon.
Then there was a lull. As Ate Rica announced that the next scene would be a solo act with a diff. And introduced house leader Kuya Richard, whose back was turned to the audience. As the melody of “Can You Feel the Love Tonight” soared (Richard Cagape a.k.a. Elton John or John Elton, take your pick, said Ate Rica), Kuya Richard’s favorite ward, Jordan, was wheeled in and placed beside him. It was a joy to see the joy on Kuya Richard’s beaming face as he sang his heart out to the audience while gently laying his hand on Jordan, whose body contortions spoke volumes of emotions only God, Kuya Richard and he knew.
The second part of the program was prefaced by 6 ladies doing a cut from “Lion King 2, Upendi”. This was followed by another number “The Lion Sleeps Tonight” which focused on the king himself, JP, ensconced in an armchair-throne, dancing and swaying to the chanting, prancing tribesmen around him.
A group dance inspired by the song “I Like to Move it” from the animated film “Madagascar” was performed. The others joined in. Kuya Ban was soon sandwiched between Lala and Rea, erstwhile lackadaisical but now totally in their element, boogieing like nobody’s business.
When the “Coconut Song” wafted in the air, the performers came down and grabbed whichever member of the viewers they could lay their hands on and took them up on stage. I was pulled by Faith and there was no pulling out of her grip. The stage soon swarmed with happily swaying, bopping bodies infected by the fever of the melody. Melding both spectacle and spectator into one community in cheery communion.
Like all good things, however, the great gig had to end. And like true-blue stage residents, Ate Rica gave them the privilege to take a formal bow, one by exhilarated one. Both staff and core members either bowed or curtseyed, most of them in character, with Lala topping all their efforts by doing an elephant split! Which made the audience roar. And would’ve made Katy Perry eat her heart out.
If that’s not a fitting way to end the day, the slight drizzle after the performance said otherwise. An American in the audience said to me, “A shower in summer seems strange.” To which I happily retorted, “Not to us, whom blessing is typical.” He smiled agreeably.
The other surprise was the banquet that was lunch, which seemed to contradict Ate Rica’s earlier “lament” that the community had meager resources, as an admission to the newspaper, palm branches and twigs eco-friendly (read: cheap) décor. There was no need for a reprieve. For the people that came, saw and were conquered were in unison in applauding the great show that they marveled at and couldn’t get enough of.
Ernie, erstwhile Board Chair, remarked that “they keep getting better I won’t be surprised if they stage a musical next year.”
Deep in the heart of Cainta, in a village aptly named Bayanihan, lies a community of hearts. A bonding of people well-equipped and mentally-impaired. Not minding the chasm but bridging it. In a lovely, loving environment where Christ is right smack in its core.
Indeed, Jean Vanier could not have picked a righter name. l’Arche (the Ark) or Arko ng Pilipinas is a covenant. Between and among people with hearts.
Bonding with Brethren
Because Thursday was the last day of activities and workshop, and Ate Betty was leaving for Davao with Ate Sylvia, she made sure that I met with the staff and their wards on that day. She did not have to twist my arm. How could I have refused an earnest plea from a lady whose cause was kindred to mine.
Ben was honking his horn on time. Without fuss, we left BF Homes for Bayanihan Village and got there on a breeze, traffic being thankfully light. In our light chat, I promised him I’ll pray that he and wife Juliet be blessed with a child.
At the waiting area were Faith, Francis, Podi, Neneng, Alan and Amil. I said my “Good morning” to them and followed Kuya Leo to where the others were. Kuyas Ban, Rey, Ate Rose and Jacque were up and about every which way. Lala and Nerie were folding the laundry while Mariflor positioned herself on the couch to chat me up. Mon-Mon was in front of the chapel, sitting squat, solitary and savoring his private world.
As Mariflor briefed me on their daily chores, I noticed what she meant in a white board on the wall which served as a task matrix and locator chart indicating Benoit was away on leave already and there was an outing tomorrow, tentative until discussed later that day.
Mariflor and the two girls stood up to help Ate Rose in the kitchen so I eased my way out to go back to the first group of kiddults. Evidently, Faith was expecting me and lost no time in engaging me in conversation. It struck me that talking with them (at least those who had no speech impediment) did not take any effort. I only had to listen to what was being simply said and the moment assumed, for Faith in this particular instance, a significant occasion. She regaled me with recall of our Coconut dance, whereabouts do I live (even if evidently she didn’t have a sense of geography), would she be included in the planned swimming, and laughed when I called her attention to her addressing me as Kuya when, in fact, she decided yesterday that Lolo would be more apt.
Podi was leaning on a post nearby and would not leave it no matter Jacque’s persuasion. Francis was grunting every now and then in his seat. Alan approached me to ask if I was an Attorney because he saw me taking notes during their performance. I so wanted to sit with him and explain and expound and educate but checked myself and said I was recording the moment to remember them by. Ben was quietly taking it all in.
Mariflor announced lunch. That she only invited Ben and me was supported by Faith who declined when I asked her and the others to join us and said they will eat where they were. They had packed lunches and meals were prepared for staff and core members and, occasionally like today, guests.
Kuya Rey was starting to feed Jordan as the others set the table. Ate Rose held the hands of Nerie and Kuya Rey, the cue to pray Nagpupuri, our grace before bread-breaking. Immediately afterwards, Jacque started to dice the pork on the plate for Mon-Mon beside him.
We had pochero with corn on the cob and laughter on the house. Mariflor initiated it with a suggestion of a joke from me. So I cracked one, which they thought wasn’t bad. Then Jacque knock-knocked his “tomato” contribution which, when we groaned “Corny,” he blamed on Carol. Kuya Ban followed suit. And everyone was in stitches. Dessert was jackfruit, not my type, and Jacque wished it were durian instead, which briefly took us to its heaven-hell allegory. At meal’s end, our hands were either wet by the corn or sticky, thanks to Jacque’s fruit, so we simply touched hands for the Salamat prayer.
Later, we all trooped upstairs for the workshop. When everyone was accounted for, Kuya Ban called on JP to lead the breathing and stretching exercises. And picked up where the latter reached his limit. Shortly, the kiddults took their positions. Beadwork was at the long table around which were seated Mariflor, Rea, Lala, Ate Rose, social worker Ate Kits, Kuya Ban and a volunteer, Janet, with her young daughter. On small stools, with scissors in hand and buckets in front were Podi, Amil, Francis, Alan, JP and Jacque whose task was to cut blades of cogon grass into bits. The cut grass would later go through a cooking process several times, bleaching, drying (Ate Kits made a face when she described the smell) and, I could not believe, transform into paper. They would color them according to need and make bookmarkers out of the colored paper. I recognized the beautiful samples as cousins to those we put in seminar kits of our bimonthly PREX classes. The beadworks produce functional cross, cat, flag, purse, orange and apple key holders. The cross is as popular as the bookmarks as seasonal give-aways. The workshop output is one source of meager income for the community.
I did not fail to notice Podi’s quick reaction to Carol’s arrival whereupon he rose and pulled a chair to offer her. He did the same to me earlier and to Kuya Leo when the latter joined us later.
As I watched them go about their tasks, silent except for rare instances of light, innocent banter or, when some seem to forget the process and ask the house leader for instruction, I am assailed by a thought. When they are not animated, what do they think about, assuming that their memory must hold something of the past? When they were young, do they have a recall of chocolates, coloring books, dolls, remote-controlled toys, stuffed animals? Or abuse, bruises, welts, being locked up, molested, raped or discovered in a trash bin (some of the horror stories I picked from reluctant sources)?
Jean Vanier, in Kathryn Spink’s biography of him, has pointed out there are the poor, the oppressed – those who feel themselves useless and without power, who have no voice in human affairs yet who cry out for recognition and appreciation – and there are the rich, the powerful and the effective, whose tendency is to crush others apparently less capable than themselves.
In that afternoon workshop, I watched and wondered at the core members of Biyaya and Munting Bukal. Functioning, intent, with purpose, useful. They do not – will never – need power. Nor do they have to assert themselves. Or be heard. They have been assigned roles by the caring community leaders to showcase their little known skills yesterday and were again performing basic tasks in their appointed home, guided by the attention, concern and love of their responsible caretakers. I wanted so much to stay. And bask in the glory of that harmony between supervisors and supervised. But Ben had another errand to run. Thankfully. Because an unease in my throat was slowly threatening to become a lump. So I capitalized on the convenience of his excuse, said my goodbyes and left. Heavy and light-headed both.
Ang Arko ng Pilipinas, Inc. is located at 116 Camia St., Bayanihan Village, Ortigas Ave. Extension, Cainta, Rizal. Tel. # 655-1481 or 82. Email address:larchepunla@yahoo.com.ph. Find them on Facebook: https://facebook.com/larchepunla
