Wind blew from so called the holy mountain in Ruteng. It was a mountain where I could see a lot of men and women wearing habit outside their convents. It was a place I could hear the chant of prayers all day.
Wearing three layers clothing I attended Sunday mass in one of the old churches in Manggarai. It was 90 minutes in solemn environment and I could only say "Thanks to God!" I had nothing to wish because whatever I had was given to me. When I stepped out the church building, I met some women I knew. They were member of single mother group. They threw honest rural females smile at me, I could see their red tooth as the result of chewing betel nut everyday. They wore woven Manggarai sarong without any jacket. "They are strong women" said a voice in my head.
Just few second after it, a new member of group single mother stopped me for she really needed someone to talk to. She has twin sons from a man who promised to marry her. The man left her since she got pregnant. She had no option other than living with her parent. "Now my brother kicked me out from my parent's house" she told me with tears burst heavily from her sleepy eyes. I could understand her fear because in Manggarai culture women could not inherit anything from her parent. After her parent died, house and land were given to her brothers. She lived at her brothers properties until they said her to leave.
The group of single mothers who were with me comfort her without my command. A woman hugged her and said "we went through similar experience like you, we are your family." Some other women told her "Keep praying to God! You will get justice. God will help your twin and you." I lost my words for her. Some women offered her place to stay temporary until she could find new place. They were truly strong women with compassion. They were very simple rural women neglected in society due to their female identity. It was just like an oasis in the dessert to me. I was witness of how compassion filled each hearths of women before me.
These women were victims of unjust cultural system, but they could survive because they were strong.
Wearing three layers clothing I attended Sunday mass in one of the old churches in Manggarai. It was 90 minutes in solemn environment and I could only say "Thanks to God!" I had nothing to wish because whatever I had was given to me. When I stepped out the church building, I met some women I knew. They were member of single mother group. They threw honest rural females smile at me, I could see their red tooth as the result of chewing betel nut everyday. They wore woven Manggarai sarong without any jacket. "They are strong women" said a voice in my head.
Just few second after it, a new member of group single mother stopped me for she really needed someone to talk to. She has twin sons from a man who promised to marry her. The man left her since she got pregnant. She had no option other than living with her parent. "Now my brother kicked me out from my parent's house" she told me with tears burst heavily from her sleepy eyes. I could understand her fear because in Manggarai culture women could not inherit anything from her parent. After her parent died, house and land were given to her brothers. She lived at her brothers properties until they said her to leave.
The group of single mothers who were with me comfort her without my command. A woman hugged her and said "we went through similar experience like you, we are your family." Some other women told her "Keep praying to God! You will get justice. God will help your twin and you." I lost my words for her. Some women offered her place to stay temporary until she could find new place. They were truly strong women with compassion. They were very simple rural women neglected in society due to their female identity. It was just like an oasis in the dessert to me. I was witness of how compassion filled each hearths of women before me.
These women were victims of unjust cultural system, but they could survive because they were strong.
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