Red Wine

2: The Moving Mural

Growing up in a predominant Catholic country with the Asian culture included in the mix will always be such an experience. The older generation seem to be obsessed with the whole religious agenda that it feels like a cult at times. They were all about attending the Eucharistic Mass at least every Sunday if they could not afford the time to do so on the daily, celebrating every 'special day' in the Catholic calendar such as Mary the Mother's birthday or something along those lines, buying rosaries and sacred figures or talisman; you name it. The Asian twist to this overly religious practice was that, despite literally having one of the Ten Commandments being 'do not use the Lord's name in vain', the Catholic elders would use God as a threat for the naughty children such as "if you don't behave, then Jesus will never give you blessings!" And then seconds later, the same elders will say in their prayer sessions that "oh how grateful we are to you, O'Lord! For you are always generous with your blessings!"

Personally, I cannot corroborate these statements, as there were only accounts of a very close friend of mine that I met through work. I am merely a French citizen currently stationed in the Philippines, so I am nowhere near Asian, nor am I a believer of Catholic faith. This friend of mine was Beatrice, or Bea or short. For some reason though, the Filipino way to say Bea is 'beh-ya' instead of 'bee', but that's beside the point.

Anyway, Bea was my senior when I first came around in the Philippine company. She was a very outgoing person, quite witty even, and seemed to be the friend of everyone in the department. It's certainly true when they say that an extrovert adopts their own introverted best friend, and Bea happened to have chosen me out of everyone in the department. Perhaps it's because I love listening to her, whether it's about work or just some random thing she encountered during her hectic commute. Everyone else just seems to be too busy to be bothered, but honestly, I couldn't ask for a better friend than Bea.

Like I mentioned, my Filipino companion always has some interesting stories to tell during our break time, or even during our off days and we hang out elsewhere! From her, I learned so much about the culture of this country, while in return, she learned the plain and boring life I had back home in France.

Out of all the stories that Bea has told me during my five year service in The Philippines, one has piqued my interest the most, and until this day, I vividly remember every detail of it as if she just told me about it today. It was about her encounter with a 'moving mural' during her childhood days back in her old hometown somewhere down south. Bea was around nine or ten years old at the time as far as she could recall. This is where her account about the Asian and Catholic culture stated earlier came from.

Bea grew up with her grandparents, since her parents worked abroad to sustain their family's finances. Her grandparents were both servants of their local church - as Bea would describe it 'the most religious oldies out there.' Bea herself studied in a private Catholic school until she graduated from high school, and according to her story, their household was sometimes no different from a church. They have to do their daily morning mass regardless if it was a weekday or a weekend, pray every 12 noon and 18:00 on the dot in front of their mini altar build on one corner of their small wooden home, and the grandparents would even refuse to sleep if Bea doesn't participate praying the rosary with them before they head to sleep.

The church where Bea and her grandparents would frequent was apparently a century old structure made of mostly stone and wooden interiors, heavily influenced by Spanish architecture. No matter how many lights were on or what time of day it was, Bea said that the church will forever have an eerie vibe to it. Something note-worthy to Bea was this stone mural on the walls of the altar for the entire attendees of the church to see. According to Bea, it was the only thing different in the church; while everything else was either black and gray stone, or dark brown wood, this stone mural of a dove supposedly representing the Holy Spirit had a skin-colored background with the actual dove being maroon. Whenever the priest stood in the center of the altar behind the table with his arms raised up at an angle, it simulated an image that the priest was calling down the Holy Spirit with them during the Eucharistic Mass.