The “White Man’s” Expectations

One rule to be happy: Thou shall not expect.

My friends and I decided to have a spiritual renewal as part of our summer vacation this year, so we all agreed to attend a three-day retreat for the youth in a nearby town a week before the start of our classes. The retreat was sponsored by a church organization in our parish, which leaves us nothing to spare except our time.

Since it was free of charge, I did not expect too much from the event. Though in my heart, I knew, more or less, how and why retreats should be conducted. The day came and, to my surprise, all the preconceptions I had were shattered in an instance. I was ready to see a not-so-pleasant accommodation. But I was unarmed to see who the other participants were.

Most of my retreat-mates were younger than me. I feared that the differences in our age would result in conflict with our interests. Most of them too were out-of-school youth. I worried that with their educational attainment, the level of participation with regard to the pending activities would tend to be below my known standards. And since they are out-of-school, it showed that they belong to the lower socioeconomic strata. Here I feared that their demeanor would not be too far from how their shanties look like.

So much of my unconscious stereotypes and prejudices, I thought of actually retreating (to back out, that is) instead of staying there with them for three days and two nights. If not for my friends, who were secretly feeling what I feel, I would have packed my things up and headed back to the comfort of my home. I also held in my mind that God has a plan for everything and was using the moment to test and to teach me. So I conceded.

The days of the retreat passed and the amazing renewal set forth. I did not feel the spiritual growth I was expecting, but something of greater significance to my maturity as a person and as a child of God took place. My unexpected expectations during my first day were vanished right in front of me.

After introducing ourselves to each other, I figured I am just as immature and silly as they are. I may be older by a year or two but our love for fun, for learning, and for love itself remain the same. After all, my generation is still our generation.

Then we talked a lot, shared a lot. I learned things in life I would never have learned in any undergraduate degree or even at the top of any graduate school. I discovered the resiliency and resourcefulness of the Filipino people in them, their sorrows and their happiness too. I even saw the joy in simple things like singing and dancing and laughing together no matter how superficial the subjects are.

And we ate in one table and slept in one room. I realized that most of the satisfaction we get from our basic need comes from the affection of the hand that prepares it and the people we share it with. Yes I can eat and sleep alone. I can have a feast and rest in my own room if I want to. But these are just byproducts of the love that came and worked beforehand.

I was made to believe that I was not expecting too much from the things that come my way. But deep inside me, the norms, standards, and principles are present even if I refuse to acknowledge their existence. Because I was so used to living with them, they became a natural part of me, almost like instincts.

Now I have another problem. How many people in the planet still think like me before I stepped into the retreat house? How do I share this wisdom to others? And will they learn just by reading or hearing this? Must everyone ‘suffer’ just to gain sight of the harsh but beautiful reality? Am I maturing or am I simply getting old by saying these things? For the time being, I leave these questions in the limbo of my mind, because there is another thing that disturbs me:

Is it instinctive also for a civilized or, at least, an educated person to carry out the “white man’s burden?”

Because right now I strongly feel that I should reach out to others, especially the ‘poor,’ and somehow elevate them from their abysmal situation. But the bigger question is: How do you help someone who is not asking for help?

I guess I should not expect so much from me for fear of losing sight of the essence of reality.