An Afternoon with Father Alex

Father Alex first arrived in Bangladesh in 1972 from his native Philippines. He has been working at the mission in Diglakona, Jamalpur since 2000. Photo: Andrew Eagle

We meet him at the St. Andrew's Parish Mission in Diglakona village of Jamalpur's Bakshiganj. It's occasional-wild-elephant country up that way, in the dreamy lower hills adjacent to the Meghalayan border. The villagers are harvesting cassava. It's a sunny afternoon.
Alejandro Rabanal, better known as Father Alex, is sporting a bright orange t-shirt and casual trousers – formal attire isn't a daily affair in Diglakona. His hair is grey yet his face looks surprisingly untroubled by time. It's only when he speaks of his experiences that it becomes apparent that his age – well, it's not nice to ask – is a fair bit closer to requiring three digits than needing only one.
Getting there has been a pleasant journey, but not altogether short. Still, Father Alex's Bangladeshi journey was a great deal longer: from his home in Pangasinan of Luzon in the Philippines he first arrived in Barisal in 1959.
“I was surprised,” he says of his first impression, “by how much water there was. There were rivers, water... everywhere.”
The Diglakona church and school cater to the scattered twelve villages of the ethnic minority Mandi, commonly called Garos by outsiders. Between-village communication isn't easy so there are girls' and boys' hostels where the 49 students board while completing their primary years under the guidance of three teachers. The school is called Sal Gital, “New Light” in Mandi.
“Two of our former students study in Dhaka University,” Father Alex says proudly. “Only a small percentage of students pursue higher education, mostly due to cost.” He is passionate about education.
Father Alex conducts morning and evening prayers, and confession. The students call him Acchu, “Grandfather.”
The Mandi community is itself no stranger to long journeys. According to oral tradition, around 400 BCE their ancestors under the leadership of Jappa Jalimpa, having left Tibet first crossed the Brahmaputra River to settle in Meghalaya's Garo Hills. From there the civilisation spread to include villages in the southern plains, in areas that are now Bangladesh.
The rivers and hills of both history and geography conspired to bring divergence. Several dialects developed in the common language. The term Mandi comes from the southern A'beng dialect found in the plains and means 'human being.' Nowadays it describes the ethnic group throughout Bangladesh, be it in Tangail's Modhupur, Netrakona, Mymensingh or Jamalpur. The northerners in Meghalaya meanwhile are described as A'chik mande, literally 'hill people.'

Mandi students at the mission school in Diglakona, Jamalpur. Photo: Andrew Eagle

Father Alex's journey didn't start with the Mandi – he first met them in 1972 when he accepted a position in Galchatra village of Tangail's Modhupur, where he would stay for twenty-two years. Yet the Mandi have been a great influence. It is due to them he decided to join the priesthood.
Speaking of his arrival in this part of the world, Father Alex recalls, “I came to serve. It was my main aim. I came to help the poor, which I couldn't do as a university professor in the Philippines.”
The opportunity arose from a Canadian Catholic Brother who had been a prisoner of war in the Philippines in World War Two. He had established connections with the president of the university where Father Alex worked. The Brother was supposed to take a position in Barisal to teach improved agricultural methods to high school students, with the view that many would run their family farms. However, the Brother found he couldn't adjust to Barisal's climate. He approached his friend, the university president, to find a volunteer. Father Alex raised his hand.
“The students were very receptive,” he says of his initial three years. “We were able to help them improve their farming methods.” At the end of his term Father Alex returned to the Philippines. But he must have been popular because three months later he was asked back.
“Bangladesh has changed a lot,” Father Alex says, “For one thing, the population has doubled.” Asked why he committed to stay into the 1970s he says, “They wanted me to stay. They loved me. We succeeded in that way. In any case what I liked or didn't like was never the focus. I came to serve.”
To this day Father Alex admires the devoutness of Bengali Muslims. “I appreciate the regularity of their prayers.” Likewise he likes the politeness and respect. “Even children greet with an assalamu alaikum.”
Yet in 1972 providence took him to Modhupur. “I felt at home,” he recalls, “I found that Mandi culture is not far from Filipino culture. Men and women mix freely. There's no malice. They joke with each other. I like how they work together including in the field. Segregation is not there.”
He was impressed by Mandi hospitality. “No matter how poor a family is they treat guests with a big reception. They can borrow two days' labour wages to buy chicken and food.”
“And if they offer rice wine,” he adds with a laugh, “The hospitality is even better!” What he's not so keen on is the pungent shutki-like dried fish dish called nakam.
Father Alex admires the Mandis' strong sense of community. “One family I know,” he narrates, “Has eight children and they took one more because that child's family was struggling. It's the maternal uncle's duty to help a poor family.”
Father Alex's description is a far cry from past description of Mandis. Both invading Mughal armies and the British were fearful. From around 1800 accounts describe them as 'bloodthirsty savages' and they had a reputation as headhunters, with a Mandi man's status determined by the number of heads he owned. But the narratives of conquerors serve their own purpose. It is likely much of the Mandis' reputation arose from their willingness to vigorously defend their lands.
Indeed Mandis have inherited a sophisticated matrilineal culture and had a well-developed religion called Songsarek, sometimes underestimated as a form of animism. Unlike many minority beliefs in India, Songsarek developed separately from Hinduism. Traditionally the Mandi believed in reincarnation but not caste.
From the 1860s however, the Mandis' journey brought to them Christianity. “The Baptists were pioneers,” says Father Alex. By the 1970s belief in Songsarek had dramatically declined. Nowadays nearly all Mandis profess Christianity, with Catholics comprising the largest denomination.
Father Alex believes the biggest contribution the Catholic Church has made, for the Mandi and in Bangladesh, is in providing education. “It's the best thing we've done,” he says. Another milestone in the Mandis' journey was the Vatican II changes, which allowed mass in local languages rather than Latin and led to a new approach to local cultures which had been discouraged.
“The people were very receptive,” Father Alex says of the implementation, “When we started to use their language in songs and they understood what they were saying...” In Diglakona he gives the mass in Mandi.
Another change has been a decline in the Mandis' semi-nomadic lifestyle. “Since available land decreased they stopped moving so often. Still they will move within the community but not like before.”
By the late 1980s the funding for his Madhopur position had ended. “I could see they still needed me,” he said. “I decided to do more.” With this in mind he joined the priesthood. It was the decision that would ultimately bring him, their Acchu, to Diglakona.
Asked what has been most difficult about living in Bangladesh he says, “The languages – Bengali more so than Mandi. It's so difficult to find a proper teacher. I was always asking children and studying myself. And don't ask me to write Bangla!”
Asked what he misses about the Philippines his answer is simple: the beer! And with a good Spanish name like Alejandro he certainly shares something with the world renowned Filipino national brew: San Miguel.