The Vow

In my previous posts, I shared about Grandma Mely's condition and our futile attempt at praying for her health in a Chinese-style ceremony. Following that ceremony, we were required to undergo a baptism to Tao for the prayer to have a supposedly greater effect. The Tao individuals assured us that this wouldn't conflict with our existing religious beliefs. Sure, whatever they say.

The baptism ceremony itself was brief. They inscribed our names on paper and set them on fire in front of the altar. According to them, the smoke from the burning paper would ascend to heaven and include our names in the so-called "Book of life." Heaven must have been represented by the ceiling exhaust fan because the smoke and ashes seemed to make a beeline for it.

Another prerequisite for the prayer to actually work was to make a vow. We had to pledge something that we would keep in order for the prayer to take effect. Personally, I found it rather absurd that prayer required so many additional elements and couldn't stand on its own. Nonetheless, they assured us that the vow could be simple, something we could accomplish for certain. I thought, why not? It's occasionally fun to engage in something pointless.

For my vow, I decided to abstain from eating rice until the end of the year. Sounds simple, right? Try avoiding the staple of a Filipino meal for a whole two months. Not only would it be a vow for me, but it could also serve as a sort of diet. As for my other vow of completing my studies, circumstances beyond my control prevented me from fulfilling it. I had to scratch that one out.

As I write this post, it has been a month and three weeks since I started my vow of abstinence from the beloved grain, and I'm pleased to report that I am still alive. I'm even considering continuing this practice beyond the intended two-month period. However, I must admit, it's not easy. I can relate to Edward Cullen; surviving on mere ulam (viand) never truly satisfies me.