& I hope at this point/ youre on your way to where you want to end up: 08/2008

“You will be going not as tourists, but as pilgrims.” –Rev Arin Sugit

When people hear that you’re going to, or have just come back from Sydney, Australia, the first reaction is usually “Wow, how much fun you must have had!” Looking back, we did have an immense amount of fun, but we also had our fair share of hardships and trials before, during and after WYDSYD, but of course, the pros most definitely outweighed the cons.

Attempting to describe WYDSYD is similar to asking me to cook a seven course meal. It’s possible but just very difficult to do. It is just not possible to capture on paper the visual explosion of youth, flags, Catholicism and excitement, the roaring thunder of praise and worship, chants of ‘Benedetto!’ and “Viva El Papa!” in your ears, and the tidal wave of passion and love that resonated for God The Father, The Son and The Holy Spirit in almost 300,000 individuals minds, hearts, spirits and bodies. Mere words are barely enough to describe the experience WYDSYD was.

But of course, I want to try.

Attending World Youth Day has been embedded in my programming, so to speak, since I was as young as 12. I had heard about this amazing gathering of hundreds of thousands of Catholic youth of all ages from the media, from friends, peers and acquaintances, and the passion to attend was only doubled when my cousin went to WYD Cologne in 2005.

Backtracking a little, I just never thought I would have the opportunity to go in the near future, and as the world would have it, I found myself in June of 2007 trying to decide where my future would take me. I had just graduated and I was looking for a job, and inevitably, the jobs that were laid before me were in the Philippines, Singapore and Brunei. I prayed about it and left it to God. I prayed that I wanted to be somewhere I would grow spiritually because I knew because of my time in university studies, I had many distractions and sometimes left my spiritual life in the sidelines. Being back with my parents was an awakening and I was touched by their simple life as missionaries who had sold everything they had, when their previous lives were more comfortable than most. I still honor my parents for their decision as it was this selfless giving of theirs that instilled in me a passion to serve the Lord.

So, I prayed for discernment about the jobs, because I did not know which path to take. However, before I stayed with my parents, when I prayed I would stress financial security in my prayers. Then, I prayed about my spiritual security.

God works in marvelous ways, and the very next day, the job in Brunei was confirmed and with the ball rolling, I found myself in Brunei, my childhood home once again. And I found myself face to face with our Spiritual Leader, Bishop Sim, telling me in no uncertain terms that I was to come with the delegation for WYD SYD. I was so unsure. Could I afford it? I thought I couldn’t. But yes, there was a way. Could I go on unpaid leave at a job I was barely six months into? Yes. God is wonderful, so yes, yes and YES!

Preparations for it were immense. Meetings upon meetings, efforts for fundraising and retreats that served to strengthen friendships among 30 delegates who had before then never set foot in the same car together, let alone now the same planes.

I remember the times we would put our thickest faces on as we sold items ranging from soft drinks to pizza to items to food in order to raise funds. I remember the retreats where we discovered more about each other through talks and quizzes and videos, and ultimately more about each others very different personalities. I remember us attempting to prepare for the dreaded 10 km pilgrimage walk by going through Tasek Lama and us funnily stumbling through the taping of a video to be sent to the Diocese of Broken Bay, the diocese that would be hosting us Brunei pilgrims for a few days before WYD proper. I remember the times we struggled to learn how to dance for a performance to represent Brunei and to sing the WYD song, the times we started our now active blog and struggling hard to work together to create a powerpoints for Taize and Stations of the cross respectively. I was amused at seeing us all dressed up when we met the High Commissioner and while we were all still awkward with one another, we were slowly but surely warming up.

I feel even then, that we were already slowly receiving power to become witnesses. I can only speak for myself, but I was excited from the first meeting with my fellow pilgrims, and the as the months to WYDSYD dwindled into mere days, my excitement only grew….

The blast of cold air was kind of what made me realize we really were in Sydney. I was startled to see people strolling around in shorts and t shirts (they turned out to be Canadians who probably experienced colder weather!) while we were all snug in layers and scarves though! It wasn’t my first time experiencing winter, but the sheer cold made me think, yes, we definitely aren’t in Brunei anymore!

The bus ride to Broken Bay saw 30 exhausted Brunei pilgrims, pilgrims who had just traveled for almost a day via Singapore to get to Sydney, and most of us slept but we all were excited by the diversion to pass the famous Sydney Harbour bridge and Opera House. But we left the city far behind and as we pulled into the Wyoming Parish, it was a humbling experience to see so many other pilgrims in a church waiting for us…

The Days in The Diocese program was a great starter up to immerse us in the Australian culture. Matt and I were the first Brunei pilgrims to get our colorful WYD backpacks, and I was pleased at the pretty matching sleeping bag. I stayed with Jasmine and Stephanie with a man called Alain Corne, who took care of us beyond the call of duty, even taking us to Woolworths to buy silly things like a tooth brush and Dominos. He also shared his life with us and we spoke about our beliefs and faith, and every morning made sure we all had breakfast. We also put our sleeping bags to full use as there was only one single bed and none of us three wanted to sleep on it while the rest were on the floor! Stephanie at this point became my unofficial alarm clock, as she would know exactly how to get me up, because I am definitely not a morning person, and she was the only one patient enough to not leave me behind, a gesture I was always appreciative of.

Mingara was a huge open area with one massive tent and other smaller tents for workshops for most of the pilgrims of the Broken Bay area during Days in the Diocese and we were treated to Aboriginal dancing and workshops that were designed to awaken our social awareness, and performances that made us shiver. After our comfortable meals in the Wyoming Parish, I suppose most of us were shocked to see that lunch was composed of a cup of soup and bread! We teased about how this would cause a revolt if ever served elsewhere, and it also sobered us up a bit to acknowledge yes, we were pilgrims and we were not to be fussy. There were places to buy other food though, and I tried kangaroo meat just for the chance, and it was not at all what I imagined it would taste like!

Mingling with the pilgrims beyond the Brunei delegation was an eye opener. I met a Croatian who shared with me that he was unhappy with the festivities available at Mingara, as the activities were more on social awareness, as he had expected more of a spiritual retreat, but I begged to differ with him because while on the surface it seemed superficial, I told him that we had to be Catholics who was involved with the issues of the world, not simply Catholics who were ignorant of the world at large, so we would be able to be better more knowledgeable witnesses who could apply our faith in a practical way that was real to the world. I doubt he agreed with me though. I also remember a heated argument with a woman who demanded to know why a few of us Brunei delegates were “against women being priests”. I also had my eyes opened to saving water by my Australian host dad Alain who told us normally he only allowed 4 minute showers but we were ‘special’ so the rule would not apply!

Too soon, it was time to leave our ‘spoiled’ lives under our foster families, and from warm homes, we made our way into Sydney and landed in St. Margaret Mary’s primary school, where heated classrooms, portable showers (yes, you read that right! The showers were OUTDOORS, a good 50 metres from where we exited the school in the morning!) and snacks Australian style (meaning sausages, sausages and more sausages!) awaited us. But the hospitality was heartwarmingly overwhelming.

Here is where my own personal WYDSYD miracle occurred. Throughout my journey, my phone was firmly clutched and texts and calls were sent and made almost 24/7. There exist pictures of me texting away while everyone else posed! Anyway, as pilgrims, we walked everywhere, and I mean, everywhere. While the Australian government and I’m sure WYD officials did their very best to ensure we had access to transport, we also had areas where our feet was the only transport available. This was also the first time we were truly faced with crowds of such numbers that we all had to clutch to each other’s bags and keep a sight out for our Brunei flag (which we used for two reasons: to show we were from Brunei and for easy visual sighting amongst the crowds!) so we could all keep up with each other. In times the crowds were stuck, we happily chanted along with the pilgrims from France, Chile, Italy and the Philippines but always with a watchful eye for each other.

It was after one of these long walks that I felt my feet extremely painful. I was advised by one of the kindly teachers at St. Margaret Mary’s to soak my feet in warm water and the first time relieved my pain so much that the next day, I did it again….while clutching my phone.

It vibrated and I was so surprised I dropped it in the hot water, and no doubt, it turned off!

It was wet and would not turn on properly. I could hear the familiar Nokia welcoming sound distorted but no display on the screen greeted me. I understood the meaning of your heart sinking there and then. I had been having such a good time and when my phone fell in, I felt so helpless. I had received an email before that rice grain could soak up all moisture so I asked one of the kindly teachers to do it for me, and they did. But I really doubted it would do more than dry out my phone for me to replace it in Brunei.

At first, I continued the pilgrimage very depressed at my own carelessness, and yet as the time passed, I realized how very much I appreciated letting go of my connections that the phone had me tied to. I was too attached to my phone to completely immerse myself in everything WYDSYD was offering me, and with it gone (and Stephanie kindly lending me hers in the meantime!) , I felt that God had been nudging me throughout my journey and was now telling me, “Okay, NOW will you pay me attention?”

And I did. I really did.

I began appreciating the delegates around me more, and became slightly closer to unexpected people. I had mini adventures with people I did not expect to be drawn closer to, and I was pleasantly surprised at how wonderful they all were. I had been missing out by insisting to be glued to my phone!

The main reason for my excitement was seeing the Pope. I used to not love this Pope, as I had a penchant for Pope John Paul the 2nd. But, when Pope Benedict the 16th came in the boat, and the cameras showed his warm face and waving arms on screen, I was so excited I could hardly breathe. The chants of ‘BENEDETTO” grew louder and louder as he came off the boat (and by boat I mean a really really big almost yachtlike boat!) and when the Pope passed me by in his Popemobile, it sent chills down my spine and tears to my eyes. I looked around and I think everyone felt it too.

I won’t pretend to be able to quote to you his sermons or his words but just being in the atmosphere, in his presence and the same vicinity he was in seemed to make all the hardships we had been through infinitely worth it.

We attended cathechism classes in the mornings conducted by a different bishop every day and our afternoons were filled with free time and getting to the main events in Barangaroo. Seeing Damien Lieth (the Australian idol I had voted for during my studies in Perth!) live was wonderful and I remember a few of us pushing through the crowds to get closer. How fun. It was only then we had realized how FAR our allocated spots were from the main stage!

During events at Barangaroo, most of us were occupied with making friends, bartering our ‘gold silk’ (from a man’s batik) for other worldwide items as souveniers and buying merchandise to bring back home. In public transport, I remember meeting a Mexican seminarian who hoped that by the next WYD he would be a priest, and an Italian priest who was a Rastafarian as well, which I found strange! I saw people clamber up toilets in order to get a better view, and people dancing their hearts out to praise and worship.

Speaking of praise and worship, even though I shed tears joyously when I saw the Pope, it was during an hour of Adoration led Matt Maher and lifeteen that I completely and totally felt surrounded by God’s love and presence and felt like I was a sinner and being forgiven, and I suddenly was overcome with a need to be nearer to God and I wept with sorrow at my ways and was begging God for forgiveness. The fateful lyrics were ‘ Death, where is your sting? Hell, where is your victory?” I knelt and I stood and prayed and nothing and no one else around me seemed to matter but the song in my heart and God. No words are sufficient. It was then and there I felt a culmination of my years of being a young Catholic being affirmed in the presence of my brothers and sisters and yet being alone with God.

We made friends with people from all over and even if we could not speak the same language, we all did our best to communicate, even if the universal theme was that we were all most definitely there for God! Everyday in the WYDSYD crowd was so much fun. I think I heard a wise man say it was like a big party, without alcohol!

Suddenly, it came time for the 10 km pilgrimage walk. I had dreaded the day! It was cold and we were all tired and yet we were invigorated at everyone else walking towards the same goal. I heard someone say, as I walked past, “Onward, Catholic soldiers!” and indeed, though many, we were marching as one.

Slowly but surely, we arrived at the massive Randwick stadium and we gathered to stake our claim on an area which we dubbed “the Brunei empire” which was really just the area our sleeping bags covered!

Day turned to night and after the evening prayer, which climaxed in everyone having a lit candle and the entire stadium lit only by candlelight, while everyone was still cheering and chanting, most of us turned into a more somber mood and I went to pray in a tent (one of many called Sacred Spaces), and seek reconciliation with a priest. I had already had one early during a cathechisis, but I still felt I needed more, and a kind priest and I talked for a long time and he was able to make sense of what I was saying and when he gave me advice and penance and the sacrament of reconciliation was completed (by this Priest who had come all the way from New Jersey), I felt at peace and seeked the Sacred Space once more, where I sank with many other pilgrims in deep prayer and reflection. Let every other Christian have their loud praise.

No one does peace and quiet and solemnity quite like us Catholics. It was beautiful.

Even more beautiful was coming back to our tiny ‘empire’ and almost stepping on Bishop Cornelius Sim, who was only covered by a thermal blanket in the zero degree temperature! Up till this point I had been complaining about the cold, but seeing my Bishop, our Bishop of Brunei, leaving behind his warm comfortable hotel room, just to be with his flock, moved me. I was truly touched by his humility as I believe he was the only Bishop there amongst the three hundred thousand pilgrims who slept in the bitter cold of Randwick that night.

Night turned to day and the most anticipated Mass, the closing Mass to be led by the Pope himself began. Even though it was mostly in English, I appreciated the Germans and French who stumbled through the words and knew exactly when to kneel and when to stand and of course, when to pray. It was a terribly humbling mass and though everyone was tired, that morning, we were really One Holy, Catholic and Apostolic Church. I felt at peace the entire Mass.

His voice trembled as he announced that Madrid would host the next WYD, but our hearts screamed because suddenly, Madrid was our next target! We all scanned the crowd looking for a Spanish face and flag! How exciting it must have been for them to know they were the next host city!!

And what was my own personal WYD miracle? During the walk, I lifted my phone to God in passing, and when I came back to St. Margaret Marys, I took the phone and put it back with its battery and lo and behold. It was working and is still working perfectly today!

It’s the aftermath of WYDSYD, and I were back in Brunei. I am so blessed to still be in touch with my fellow WYD delegates. We share a kinship now, I suppose, having survived the cold together, the sausages and tuna together, the tiredness, the walking! We support each other in being able to recharge the high we got during WYD and relating it to ‘real’ world. It’s a challenge! But we will face it together. We acknowledge that we are not the future of the Catholic church, but its present, and we know we have received power from the Holy Spirit and are just craving to be witnesses!

Already, as I type this, we are planning our next retreat and I had even mustered up the strength and courage (and thick facedness!) to share to the Bahasa group about my experience..in Bahasa! That was how inspired and ignited I was to share and be a witness!

I also remember how Australia was suffering from a drought and were praying for rain. I believe half of us were praying for it not to rain because most activities were outdoors and it was cold! Well, the entire time we were there, it did not rain at all. I was in the merchandise store on the last day of WYD at Hyde Park and it rained! The guard looked at me and said, “It’s a beautiful finale, to have it rain only on the last day of WYD, isn’t it?”

Yes, it truly was.

I was so proud to represent the wonderful Vicariate Youth of Brunei. The Vicariate should be proud for without every parishioners support in the form of donations (financial an otherwise!) and prayers, we could not have made it. Rev. Arin did the best job he could leading us all, and we were able to get the most out of our pilgrimage as we could. Bishop was eternally there whenever we needed him, and I could not express my gratitude more to the adult helpers who patiently guided us younger ones and us younger ones who helped and looked out for each other. No one was lost, but really somehow, during WYD, I felt so found.

I could go on and on about the experiences, for there are so many, and I have only mentioned the bare minimum here but truthfully, yes, WYDSYD touched my life, but it was the times and friendships and moments with the WYDSYD Brunei delegation that will forever be in my heart and will affect my life as I know it. Whatever happens in life, we will forever be tied to each other as WYDSYD 08 pilgrims, and I know each of us have been changed in one way or another by this beautiful pilgrimage! Ate Jen said it best when she said we can make everyday a mini-WYD!

Yes, I am an official WYDSYD pilgrim, and I can barely wait for my (hopefully) next one!

After all, WYD Madrid really is only 3 years away...

not everyone has a sob story. but even if they do? thats no excuse [ as much as they may want it to be]

Never write down anything you don't want anyone else to read... It's like putting a bullet in an enemy's gun

MY WYDSYD EXPERIENCE

Other people do not have to change for us to experience peace of mind.

dreamers can find their way by moonlight and their only punishment is that they see the dawn before the rest of the world

their beautiful lives

4 am knows all my secrets

And I hope they found something worth reading...