SEPT 19 — Last Friday night, I asked a nun about her love life.
And before you freak out, haven’t you ever been curious? Do nuns fall in love? What do you do when you can’t say ‘I do’?
We were in a minivan and most of us were sleeping. The nun was driving and I started talking to her because 1) no one else was talking, and 2) I prefer long silences in December.
“This is your new highway, right?”
“Yes, in Sabah, we are always building highways.”
“That’s ironic, seeing as you are the Land below the Wind.”
(No response)
More small talk later, I learnt that she joined the nunnery when she was 21 and was sure she wanted to be a nun at 24. She said she came from a village where the youth had very little direction. She decided then that she would guide them.
Me: Wow, so you were like Maria from “The Sound of Music”!
Nun: Yeah but she left and married Captain Von Trapp. didn’t she?
Me: Oh yeah.
Nun: I love that film.
Me: Yeah, me too. I’ve seen it a million times, I know all the words.
Nun: Yeah, I love it.
Me: Have you ever seen “Sister Act”?
Nun: Yes.
Me: I feel like I’m in “Sister Act” now, going to the singing competition because you’re driving us.
Nun: Haha but they wear the habit. We don’t do that here so much.
Me: No, not in the habit, are you?
(No response)
I asked if she’d ever had a boyfriend, and she said she’d had a few. I asked her what happened to the last one, assuming she’d had none since, well, becoming a nun. She said they broke up when she made her decision and he’s now married with kids but still goes to church. They remain friends. Me: So do you ever feel like holding hands with a guy?
Nun: That depends, what would be the reason for holding his hand?
Me: I don’t know, it’s part of dating, isn’t it?
Nun: I would need to know the purpose of holding his hand.
Me: I suppose you could get a blind boyfriend so you’d always have an excuse to hold his hand.
*Nun laughs*
Me: So what do you do when you are attracted to a guy? When I like somebody, I want to be close to them. It’s natural.
Nun: I don’t fight the feeling. I thank god that I can love, and be loved (in return).
Me: So do you just pray the lust away?
Nun: I pray, but I also think about it a bit. If you fancy somebody you don’t just go up to them and say “I love you”, do you? So I let it process a bit.
Me: And then you forget about it?
Nun: I think about what I would get out of it, whether it would make me happy, and be in line with my purpose.
Me: Do you think that people who choose to devote themselves to god channel their need for intimacy into god then?
Nun: I don’t think so, I embrace those emotions. It is human to feel them, and it’s important to acknowledge those feelings. But I also think about it a bit.
Me: So how do you channel that energy then?
Nun: Sometimes I do a bit of gardening.
Me: I suppose that’s one way.
Nun: (carrying on/possibly ignoring me) Yes... gardening.
Me: This road is really dark and wet. Are you gonna be okay driving home after this on your own?
Nun: Yes. You see, this is also one way to channel that energy (laughs)
I thought the chat with the nun would be the only highlight of my trip, but I was wrong. More gems popped up a few hours later while chatting with a friend. As we slapped at insects and dodged bats, he revealed an interesting tale:
“I went to a Christian school just like this one when I was a boy. It was horrible.”
“Why?”
“Mainly the abuses”
“Abuses?”
“Yeah I remember one kid who got his ear torn, but the mental abuse was worse”
“Like what?”
“I have memories of a nun whacking me on the head with a book and then throwing it out of the window. It was a thick book. I remember going out in the rain to retrieve it, bending over into the longkang to pick it up, then returning to the classroom and being asked ‘Did I say you could pick up your book?’ and then being hit on the head again.”
“That’s messed up”
“Yeah and there was this little girl who wouldn’t stop crying once, she was about six. The nun made her stand on a table, and then rang her dad. When he arrived she gave him a needle and he was told to poke his own daughter with it.”
(Expletives — from me, not my friend.)
(My friend, continuing) “Yeah but 20 years ago, parents would think that you must have done something very wrong and that you deserved it.”
“Could it be sexual frustration?”
“Oh yeah, quite possibly”
I began to wonder if there was a solution to the quandary that had formed in my head.
Child abuse is everywhere, so one could say the risks are not contained within particular institutions.
But if we’re talking about a school run by people who are more likely to be in a state of agitation, stress or anxiety due to being sexually frustrated (Hey, I didn’t make this up. The nun said herself that it’s natural to feel these things, that she embraces the feelings, but all she can do is pray it away, or do some gardening), wouldn’t it be logical to conclude that the risks are higher in some places compared to others? Are nun-run (ridden?) schools to be avoided at all costs?
Then again, if you can’t afford to send your kids to school, and some Christians rock up with free education, it might be difficult to refuse. Especially if the school has a reputation second to nun, I mean, none (obviously).
So what do you do?
Look, don’t get all worked up, I’m not saying all such schools are a case of “Nuns Gone Wild”, but you can’t deny that abuses have happened, continue to happen, and that even the Pope is “truly sorry” (for Irish Catholics, at least). Can you rely on him to defrock the depraved before they defrock your kids?
The idea of an institution that provides a great opportunity for kids who can’t afford to go to school is fantastic and I really applaud the effort. But if I were a parent aware of the risks, I reckon I’d be in a real pickle about it.
Some people say you should turn to religion for answers. Hmm....
* The views expressed here are the personal opinion of the columnist.
