Scars from Cambodia (Lamug-Nañawa, SJ)

Reflections of a Newly Ordained Priest
Returning from Foreign Mission Gabriel Lamug-Nañawa, SJ


I didn't expect to get scarred in Cambodia . When I was missioned to Cambodia during our ordination to the priesthood nearly four years ago, an event which brought both tears of joy and anxiety to my parents, a number of people warned me about landmines and other dangers. Young and eager as I was back then, I didn't think much of their words of warning. Now, three and a half years later, I do find scars on my body, true gifts from Cambodia , and for which I am most grateful to God.

Until recent years, Cambodia had the highest number of landmine accidents in the whole world, averaging around two to three explosions a day, everyday. Within Cambodia , the province with the highest number of landmine accidents is Battambang. That is where we live. Although the number of incidents has fortunately gone down due to demining efforts and greater awareness of the people, our team from the Arrupe Welcome Center would go out to the villages everyday to seek out victims of mines and war, mothers, fathers, children with a disability, finding different ways of helping them.

The scars on my feet and legs remind me of this. We would ride motorbikes to the villages, along unpaved dirt roads that are dusty and slippery during the dry season, and muddy and slippery during the wet. I have fallen off the motorbike several times, into ditches and muddy pot holes, leaving scars that remind me of our team and their dedicated efforts to reach out to those whose very bodies, lives and families have been broken by war.

Once there was a poor man who used to be a Khmer Rouge soldier, a father of six who had lost his left leg to a landmine many years ago. He and his family lived two and half to three and a half hours away depending on how rough the road had become. Although we had been helping his family with land and a simple new house, we would oftentimes arrive at his home and find him drunk with his fellow neighbors. Expressing his willingness to change, we asked another NGO to give the community a workshop on alcoholism and domestic violence. Only days after the seminar, his wife rang us around eleven in the evening to say that he had just fallen from a tractor-drawn cart. He was seriously injured and couldn't move his body from the neck down. He was also drunk.

Since he was nowhere near any medical facility, the Cambodian team together with some foreign volunteers left in the middle of the night to pick him up and take him to the nearest hospital. This for me was simply heroism of body and soul. It was the Good Shepherd at work, God's fearless love reaching out to God's children, despite darkness, despite disappointments. They did reach him on time. He is alive and recovering from a fractured bone in his neck. I am happy to have scars that remind me of this breadth and depth of love.

A longer scar is on my belly. It took three operations within five months in two countries to put it there. It was due to an internal infection which I acquired because of my participation in the Passion play for Holy Week. But more than anything, this scar reminds me of a Buddhist lady who approached me on that Good Friday. She asked me if she could wash my feet. Sensing the purity of her intentions, we sat by a corner in the house. As she was washing my feet, just before the dramatization of Christ's Passion and Death, she started to cry and "confess her sins," telling me of the things she had done that weighed heavily upon her. As she finished she calmly said, "Please take all these with you to the cross." I was deeply moved. This Buddhist lady's intuitive action had touched my own faith and has ever since been a source of grace and inspiration for me. The scar on my belly will forever remind me of people's faith that continuously strive
to find God in different contexts.

Leaving Cambodia has not been easy. They are a simple people, with basic needs and uncomplicated relationships, and as of now still undistracted by the "noise" of consumerism. The people of Battambang, and the staff and students with disabilities of the Arrupe Welcome Center have all been wonderful. Simply to be in their presence was truly a humanizing experience. Those with whom I worked were fantastic, mostly Buddhists, some former Khmer Rouge soldiers and supporters, but many of whom have been my heroes and models for generosity and loving kindness. They have been most edifying, and their ways of doing things and of dealing with other people have unwittingly called me, even challenged me to be a better priest. The daily actions of our Apostolic Prefect, Msgr. Enrique Figaredo SJ, inspire the community around him to be joyful, always looking forward with a positive and loving disposition, always searching for creative ways to help the poor. Putting
this altogether, I dare say that within these years of living and working in Cambodia, I have experienced a sliver, a bit of something of the Kingdom of God.

Hence, having to leave all this behind has etched my third scar. Though not visible, I know it is there, for it reminds me of its existence every time I remember Cambodia .

In the end, our scars remind us of our past wounds. Some wounds we have inflicted on ourselves caused by our own mistakes, some we have received from other people. But at their best, some of our scars are there because we have dared to love, having borne wounds as the cost of reaching out beyond ourselves towards our neighbors in need. Jesus Himself freely received the Cross out of love, His wounded and broken body reminding us of God's fearless love.

I can honestly say that I have seen this love not so much in words but in everyday deeds, lived out and personified by many people I have met. The mere witnessing of this love at work is a grace in itself.

In Cambodia , there is a growing devotion to an image of Christ on the Cross with only one leg. More than just a scar or a wound, Christ is missing a leg. Although some may call it blasphemous, irreverent tampering with a holy image, it remains to be a meaningful icon that speaks to the people of Christ's compassion and fearless love.

In gratitude for the wounds that others have borne for us, may our own scars be out of love for God and for God's people.