Friday, August 15, 2025

Rome, Italy: July 23-31, 2025

On June 11, I purchased a round-trip ticket to Rome on Emirates (US$922.10). On this return to the Eternal City after 18 years, I planned to walk the seven pilgrim churches with intention in this Jubilee 2025 year and attend the two-day Jubilee of Digital Missionaries and Catholic Influencers conference (€70 for the basic package registration plus four meals).

A pilgrimage offers me the chance to step away from daily life and refocus on what matters most: deepening my relationship with God and growing in love for Him and others. It's a spiritual reset — a deliberate pause to recalibrate my heart and renew my faith through sacred spaces, silence, and intentional prayer.

Day 1: The Journey to Rome

I didn't sleep much on my Emirates evening flight from Phnom Penh to Dubai (with a 2-hour layover in Singapore). Instead, I watched two movies (Oppenheimer and Conclave). The first meal out of Phnom Penh was excellent — rice curry with daal, bread, butter, and mango pudding. I was famished and devoured it. The breakfast on the 6.5-hour Singapore-Dubai sector, however, was disappointing: burnt, dry, salty scrambled eggs that I couldn't finish. I managed only the hash browns and mushroom compote. We landed in Dubai at 4:40 A.M.

The 4.5-hour layover in Dubai was my first time transiting through the airport, and everything felt novel — the Arabic script on signs, the endless perfume shops. Even the Emirates pre-flight video was in Arabic, which was a first for me. I found prices steep; 32AED was equivalent to about US$9. Still, the atmosphere was welcoming and cosmopolitan, with people of all nationalities working and transiting through.

The next flight to Rome departed at 9:10 A.M. on a spacious Airbus A380-800. I was grateful for my aisle seat in zone F, up front near the cockpit — the Khmer staff at the Emirates check-in counter had done me a huge favor. I was also able to charge my devices on board (be sure to bring the right adapters!).

During the second meal service, the flight attendant skipped the two young girls sitting across the aisle to my left. They were too polite to make a fuss and simply went without food. I didn't think this was right, so I pressed the call button for them since the female staff in the galley behind us seemed impossible to reach. After some time, a male steward came to ask what I needed. I explained that the girls hadn't been served — they had no food while the rest of us were nearly finished eating. He went to ask them what they wanted, and only then did the female attendant approach to follow up. She attended to them only after her male colleague intervened. Afterward, the girl to my left thanked me for speaking up. They were so sweet and non-confrontational — unlike me.

About 6.5 hours later, I arrived in Rome. I heaved a huge sigh of relief to see my checked suitcase appear on the conveyor belt — it had been handled at four airports (PNH, SIN, DXB, and finally FCO). I reminded myself to trust the process — to let go and not worry about things beyond my control.

Before leaving for Rome, I had purchased a Mamma Mia 10 GB - 30 Days eSIM from Airalo (US$24). As soon as I landed, I activated it on my phone, and it worked perfectly. Having reliable mobile data throughout my trip proved essential for navigation, translation, research, and staying connected.

To catch the Trenitalia Leonardo Express train from FCO to Roma Termini, I walked about five minutes to the train station. Two ticket staff at the gates told me I couldn't tap my credit card at the "Tap & Go" gate and would need to buy a ticket first. After fumbling around looking for the official seller — others were charging more than the €14 fare — I finally found the counter: a non-descript window with a Trenitalia sign clearly stating they sold the €14 ticket (note: they don't accept cash). Ticket in hand, I headed to platform 3 where an express train was preparing to depart. A staff member validating tickets by the tracks validated mine with the machine, and I quickly boarded. The train departed soon after, and about 30 minutes later, I arrived at Roma Termini.

The walk from the station to my lodging was challenging — I was lugging two suitcases in the bloody heat and sunshine. Some of the pavement was uneven, and the rocky cobblestone streets threatened to damage my suitcase wheels. In those sections, I had to carry both bags. As a budget traveler, I avoid taxis unless it's an emergency.

I stayed at a convent for eight nights, paying €448 (€50/night plus €6/night tourist tax to the Municipality of Rome) to an elderly religious sister during check-in. The room was large with three single beds (even though it was only me) and an ensuite bathroom. I was glad it was air-conditioned since Rome was as hot and humid as Phnom Penh in summer. Though the bathroom was spacious with a high ceiling, the shower stall was tiny, making it a challenge to wash my hair and body. That's Europe for you.

After settling in, I walked to the nearest supermarket, Pam Local, for an early take-out dinner: chicken bites with roasted vegetables and green olives, plus lasagna alla bolognese (€5). I also stopped at a fruit shop next door, run by Bangladeshi immigrants who spoke fluent Italian — which I found intriguing. I bought two large nectarines and a large peach for €3.70.

I had a nectarine for dessert, and it was delightful — so sweet and juicy, bringing me back to my year in Europe when I feasted on nectarines and peaches. They're hard to find affordably in Asia, and I don't remember seeing them much in the U.S. either. It was wonderful to enjoy them again.

Thanks be to God for being with me on this long and tiring day of travel.

Day 2 (July 24, 2025): Walking Pilgrimage from St. Peter's Basilica to St. Paul Outside the Walls

Breakfast was simple fare at the convent — cereal, hard bread, and hot drinks from a machine. The double espresso jolted me awake. It's really not about the quantity but the quality of coffee here in Italy.

I started my first day of pilgrimage at 8 A.M., walking to a nearby bus stop. Spotting a tabacchi (Italian for tobacco shop/newsstand) next to the stop, I bought 10 single metro/bus/tram tickets for €15. This was the most economical option for me since I only took public transportation twice a day. (The three-day ROMA72H pass at €18 for unlimited rides would be ideal if you plan to hop on and off frequently.)

I took bus 62 to St. Peter's Square, grateful for a window seat to film the journey. It was surreal to see St. Peter's Basilica again after 18 years. Back then, people called me signorina, but on this trip, I was more of a signora. Sigh, the inevitability of human aging.

I attended a 10 A.M. Mass inside St. Peter's (near the Chair of St. Peter). Later, after passing through the Holy Door, I entered the Chapel of the Blessed Sacrament, where I prayed and sat in silent adoration before Jesus. It was deeply moving, and I couldn't stop my tears. I felt both happy and sad — happy to finally have this chance to be with Jesus in this way; sad because I regrettably hadn't made enough time for Him in recent years. The last time I sat in adoration before our Lord was probably in Fatima, Portugal in 2014. I could truly feel Jesus's presence in the chapel. To see so many others there embracing Him in that moment was truly wonderful.

After exploring St. Peter's Basilica, I walked along the River Tiber to Ponte Sisto and then to Pizzeria La Boccaccia for lunch. I bought five large slices of different types of pizza with toppings like potatoes, mozzarella, blue cheese, basil, sundried tomatoes, and mushrooms (€14.50). The portions were huge, so I saved half for dinner later. They were delicious.

From there, I kept walking toward the Pyramid of Caius Cestius, stopping at a gelato place where I spent €3 for a two-flavor gelato cone (pistachio and lemon). I also bought a regular bottle of sparkling water (acqua con gas) for €1.20. Later, I came across fountains with water flowing freely, which I later learned were called nasoni (literally "large noses" in Italian). A lady was filling her small plastic bottle from one. When I looked at her perplexed, she said in English that I could drink from it, so I followed suit. She asked me where I was from — the FIRST person to ask me this question that day! I was craving encounters, even just in the convent dining room, but the two women who showed up early for breakfast didn't say much to me beyond polite greetings in Italian. I thought it would be like Montmartre's guesthouse at the Basilica of Sacré-Cœur in Paris, where staff and guests chatted me up so easily, but it wasn't to be this time. So it was SO nice to talk to a friendly stranger on the street. Her young son was with her, and I could tell he was dying to know what we were talking about in English. :)

After more walking, I finally arrived at the Basilica of St. Paul Outside the Walls around 4:30 P.M. The basilica closes at 6:30 P.M. daily. I attended my second Mass of the day at 5 P.M. The atmosphere felt more personal and easy-going than St. Peter's:
  1. Real candles instead of electric ones
  2. A simple, straightforward Mass led by a single African priest (versus two priests at St. Peter's)
  3. The tomb of St. Paul and the chain relics were accessible to pilgrims — unlike at St. Peter's, where only pre-reserved groups could get close to the steps leading down to St. Peter's tomb below Bernini's canopy (and even they couldn't descend to pray before the Apostle)
  4. The crowds at St. Peter's sacristy made souvenir shopping impossible, but at St. Paul's I could browse in peace. The merchandise was better too — I spent €15.90 on three Pope Leo XIV official posters and a 2025 Jubilee book featuring Pope Leo XIV on the cover. Many souvenirs at St. Peter's still featured Pope Francis and other past popes.
I paid €3 to enter the cloister at St. Paul Outside the Walls. The first thing I noticed when I stepped into the central garden was SILENCE. It was profound... as if time stood still. I wished I had more time to linger, but the church was closing, so I hurried my pace.


On the return journey, I waited over an hour for bus 23 from the Basilica of St. Paul Outside the Walls. Apparently, due to traffic conditions, buses in and around Rome are notoriously unreliable and don't follow the timetable. My persistence paid off when I finally boarded the crowded bus and stood in the back for the long ride to central Rome.

To make matters worse, the bus's map display was broken, so I had to pull out my phone to track my stop on Google Maps. A woman near me asked for help as well since her phone battery had died, so when her stop approached, I told her to get ready. Thank God for my power bank — my phone would have died long ago without it. I charged my phone at every rest break to extend its battery life. I'm truly helpless without my phone as I use it not only for navigation and translation, but also as my camera to capture every moment. It's really changed the way I travel.

En route on a connecting bus (62) back to the convent, I witnessed a scene: a young Chinese tourist claimed that a man had pickpocketed €100 from her small white hanging purse. The guy denied it, even showing his empty pockets, but he quickly exited at the next stop. The tourist and her companions followed after him, but he fled the stop instantly.

Day 3 (July 25, 2025): Walking from St. Sebastian Outside the Walls to St. John Lateran and Holy Cross in Jerusalem

The 30-minute tour of the Catacombs of San Sebastiano (€10/adult) was mind-blowing. It was my first time walking inside an underground burial place of pagans, martyrs, and early Christians from the second to fourth centuries.

Walking down the steps and into a narrow passageway, I immediately entered a cool, dark, and eerie atmosphere. In some areas, the ceiling was so low I had to duck.

(Photos below - courtesy of Google as photography wasn't permitted in the tour)

The tour guide mentioned that grave robbery was rampant at that time. According to legend, the mortal remains of Apostles Peter and Paul were hidden here briefly for about six years during the persecutions. The word "catacomb" literally means "near the quarry" in Ancient Greek or Late Latin. After the persecution years ended, their remains were moved to their current locations.

The remains of St. Sebastian were also brought to this catacomb. A captain in the Roman army, he was martyred for secretly converting to Christianity, refusing to denounce his faith, and converting other soldiers. Emperor Diocletian sentenced him to death by arrows. The archers left him for dead, but the pious widow St. Irene of Rome retrieved his body and discovered he was still alive. She nursed him back to health. After his recovery, Sebastian confronted the emperor about his sins and cruelty. This time, Diocletian ordered him beaten to death with clubs. He was martyred this way around 286 A.D.

Mausoleums were discovered in the 1920s, and today the Basilica of St. Sebastian Outside the Walls sits above the mausoleums and catacomb.

From San Sebastian Outside the Walls, I walked along the Appian Way and through Roman neighborhoods toward St. John Lateran. It was unbearably hot and sunny, but I reasoned that my physical discomfort and exhaustion were nothing compared to the experiences of the martyrs and early Christians who were buried in catacombs outside Rome. Still, as I got closer, my phone began overheating and shutting down, drained from continuous filming. It was a sign to stop and seek shelter to cool down — not just for my phone but for myself as well. I found a supermarket and entered. Inside, the air-conditioned coolness hit my overheated body with refreshing relief. I found a table by the deli and sat down to recharge my phone's battery and my own, grateful for the dark interior.

After walking through the Holy Door of St. John Lateran and exploring the vast interior and serene cloister (€4 entrance fee), I headed toward the adjacent Sancta Scala (Holy Stairs) sanctuary. St. Helena, mother of Emperor Constantine, brought the stairs to Rome after her pilgrimage to the Holy Land around 326-328 A.D. These 28 marble stairs are traditionally believed to be the very staircase that Jesus climbed during His trial before Pontius Pilate in Jerusalem.

Climbing the stairs was free, but entry to the Sancta Sanctorum Chapel on the upper floor to see the Acheropita icon of Christ (believed to be not made by human hands) cost €3.50. I paid the additional fee, though when I arrived, I saw at least two individuals climbing over the rope to view the icon without paying, which annoyed me. The guard did nothing but give them a stern look.

I climbed the Holy Stairs on my knees in devotion, and the experience was hard and painful. I was aptly reminded of Christ's suffering and death on the cross. I kept focusing on that because it was all I could see — Jesus Christ on the cross, a fresco directly facing us pilgrims as we climbed. However, when I reached the last few stairs at the top, my gaze shifted to Christ's ascension into heaven, depicted in the fresco on the left, with God the Father looking down on Jesus and on us. I prayed the Jesus prayer at the end. Though the initial suffering was tough, the promise of salvation and new life made everything better. Hope rises where pain lives.

I realized that we shouldn't focus too much on the pain. Yes, I cried a fair bit in the beginning and middle, but I rejoiced when I saw Christ's ascension — it made all the difference. There is hope! There is new life and renewal. This calls us to trust in the Lord that all will be well.

I made my last pilgrimage of the day to the Basilica of the Holy Cross in Jerusalem (Santa Croce in Gerusalemme), where I saw the Passion relics of Christ: fragments of the crown of thorns, fragments of the True Cross, a nail, and the wooden title from the cross. These were also brought to Rome from Jerusalem by St. Helena.


At the end of the pilgrimage, I sat down to contemplate inside the dim interior of the Basilica of the Holy Cross in Jerusalem. Having seen the catacombs, the Holy Stairs, and the Passion relics all in one day, that's when it hit me — all the suffering endured by our Lord Jesus Christ was born of LOVE. His love is the thread woven through all suffering. His sacrifice wasn't purposeless; it was for our salvation. Christ's death paid for our sins. The same goes for the martyrs and early Christians — they too died for love, in response to the love they had received from Christ and the Father. I realized the theme of the day was Descent Then Ascent. There's hope even in death because of Christ's resurrection. This calls us to let go and trust in God.


Dinner was a San Francisco hot flatbread from La Piadineria, a fast-food chain in Rome. The portion was huge and filled with fresh cream cheese, salmon, lettuce, and avocado — tasty and filling for €8.60. Apparently, this flatbread originated from the historical region of Romagna, Italy. The bread is called piada in Italian.

Then I walked to a gelato place around the corner called Gelateria La Romana. I ordered pistachio and strawberry for €3.50. This place has a following, and I could see why — their servings were bigger with generous toppings. I got a choice of traditional or chocolate cone, white or brown chocolate drizzle, a wafer on top, and more. It was a satisfying end to a heart-heavy day.

Day 4 (July 26, 2025): Walking from St. Lawrence Outside the Walls to St. Mary Major (Santa Maria Maggiore)

I started my day's pilgrimage at St. Lawrence Outside the Walls, a historic papal minor basilica that still bore signs of war among its ancient columns. The basilica was built over the tomb of St. Lawrence, a deacon martyred during Roman persecutions in 258 A.D. It also holds the relics of St. Stephen, the first martyr.

I ended my three-day walking pilgrimage to the seven pilgrim churches at St. Mary Major, where Pope Francis and other popes are buried.


Throughout the past three days, one unifying theme stood out: LOVE. Where it was present, harmony, smiles, gratitude, and gentleness followed. Where it was lacking, hostility, rudeness, and aggression played out.

Reflecting on this Roman pilgrimage, I had unfortunately encountered more coldness than warmth from the residents of Italy's capital, to my great surprise:

1. Aggression can be active — like the elderly Italian man who berated me because he thought I had cut the line in front of him while waiting to pray at Pope Francis's tomb. I couldn't even say a silent prayer to the late pope as the man loudly chastised me in Italian for a perceived affront. To be honest, I was in line but had stopped briefly to film. When I rejoined the queue, he must have thought I had suddenly cut in (which I hadn't — but even if I had, what's the big deal?). He asked if I understood what he was saying. I shook my head and replied, "La pace (peace) to you" in my broken Italian. He sneered. His inability to receive peace was telling. It was unfortunate that he soured what I'd hoped would be a sacred moment communing with the late Pope Francis.

2. Then there's passive aggression — like the convent cleaner who moved my suitcases two days in a row. She did not come to change the bedsheets. Rather, she was more concerned about the suitcases being on the beds. There were three single beds in my room, so I laid my suitcases on one of them for easy access. Why should housekeeping even care where they were placed? Isn't it the guests' prerogative to arrange their belongings? Never in my stays at various other establishments had I experienced housekeepers touching and moving my items. I found it appalling that religious sisters cared more about objects than about love and courtesy for their guests. They're supposed to be servants of the Sacred Heart of Jesus, yet I did not feel safe or welcomed there.

3. Finally, there was more hostility and rudeness — like the encounter at the Sancta Scala souvenir shop. I approached a religious sister at the counter to pay for the cards and photos I'd picked up, which totaled €5.20. The nun, who appeared to be South Asian, insisted in a harsh and aggressive tone that I give her exact change as she didn't want to break my €20 bill. I insisted, and she reluctantly checked her register, which was full of cash in different denominations! She didn't even thank me for the purchase, walking away immediately after handing me the change. I stopped myself from confronting her, even though I badly wanted to tell her that her attitude was a poor reflection on Christians. She did not show love, light, or warmth. It's a shame — moving from a sacred space filled with reverence, where pilgrims carry prayers up marble steps, to being met with unnecessary hostility over something so small. The whole situation was deeply ironic.

So even though Rome has over 900 churches, it doesn't mean that all the people there live out their faith in loving kindness, peace, joy, and humility. Perhaps I expected a bit more from Roman residents, especially those in religious orders, but like the lighthouse analogy, there's profound darkness at the bottom of the lighthouse. The sting of hypocrisy when those in religious roles act without compassion is real. They may seem to be close to their faith, but there's hardly any light shining from them. Sad to say, they do not reflect Christianity well.

Ecclesiastes 3:16: "Moreover I saw under the sun that in the place of justice, even there was wickedness, and in the place of righteousness, even there was wickedness."

I should note that not everyone I met was unkind. Right after leaving Sancta Scala, I encountered two warm and friendly sisters from the Missionaries of Charity on the street. They spontaneously wished me buon giorno as I walked past them while filming — a welcome contrast that felt like night and day. All of them religious sisters, some good, some not so much. But overall, I experienced more coldness than warmth during my time in Rome, which was disappointing.

After a meaningful spiritual journey walking from church to church with reverence and openness, to have those sacred moments diminished by petty human behavior... it hurts. Despite these discouraging interactions, I tried to stay graceful and centered. This turned out to be another form of pilgrimage — responding with grace and walking forward, choosing restraint and wisdom, without letting these experiences harden me. As a pilgrim of discernment, I see both the light and the shadow. I recognize now that vocation doesn't always guarantee virtue. Believe me, processing all of this was part of the purification process.

I will end this blog here. If you have time, please watch my "in-between moments" in the video below. Thank you for reading, and for walking with me in spirit. May God bless you. Peace!



Sunday, August 10, 2025

We are Instruments of Grace: Key Insights from the Jubilee of Digital Missionaries & Catholic Influencers


Last month, I had the incredible privilege of attending the 2-day Jubilee of Digital Missionaries & Catholic Influencers in Vatican City on July 28-29, 2025. This extraordinary gathering brought together Catholic content creators, digital evangelizers, and online ministers from around the world to explore our calling as "Instruments of Grace" in the digital age.

Over those two transformative days, I filled pages with insights, challenges, and inspiration that have fundamentally shifted how I view my role in digital ministry. The speakers didn't just talk about social media strategy or content creation techniques -- they called us to something much deeper: authentic witness, purposeful engagement, and the courage to bring the light of Christ into every corner of the Internet.

What follows is a synthesis of the notes I took during this powerful event. I've organized the key themes and insights that emerged, hoping they might inspire and guide other digital missionaries who, like me, are seeking to navigate the unique challenges and opportunities of evangelizing in our connected world.

Whether you're a seasoned Catholic influencer or someone just beginning to explore how faith and digital platforms intersect (like me), these reflections offer a roadmap for becoming true instruments of grace online.

Before I walk you through my notes, here's a highlights reel that captures the energy and spirit of those two incredible days in the Vatican:

Jubilee of Digital Missionaries & Catholic Influencers: We are Instruments of Grace - Summary

Core Identity and Mission

We are instruments of grace - called to be in this world but not of it. As digital evangelizers, we speak the language of the modern world while remaining rooted in eternal truth. Our mission extends beyond the tech-savvy; all Catholics are called to digital evangelization, participating in service and communion as we bring the Good News to every corner of the digital world.

Authentic Witness Over Success

Authenticity over image-building is paramount. We preach the Gospel not to build successful personal brands or merchandise ourselves, but to save souls. Our goal is to win souls, not arguments. We are blessings to share, not products to sell. God uses our brokenness for His glory, not ours - we must stop pointing to ourselves and surrender our platforms to Jesus.

Content with Purpose and Love

Meaningful content over mere content creation defines our approach. In a world overwhelmed by meaningless content, we must create with love, reflecting our values and seeking truth and life's meaning. Our content should emerge from what burns in our hearts, not from FOMO or ego-centric motivations. We don't negotiate principles to please crowds.

Encounter and Community Building

Digital encounter spaces transform how we engage. Instead of focusing on ourselves, we ask our audiences how they feel and create platforms for genuine encounter. We build digital communities that serve as bridges and connections, sharing bread and prayer together. We don't isolate but actively foster unity within the Church.

Hearts on Fire

The fire within must be kindled. The world needs hearts that burn and words that emerge from silence. This transformative fire far surpasses any artificial lights the world offers. We must identify what burns in our hearts and courageously share it, as love naturally communicates itself.

Truth and Hope Over Metrics

Value lies in truth shared, not likes received. While algorithms know everything about our digital behavior, they cannot measure the soul, love, or grace. We communicate truth and communion, having the courage to dream new versions of the world. As creators and artists, we generate meaning and hope, serving as agents of communion and evangelization.

Unity and Compassion in Communication

Unity within diversity remains essential. We face the challenge of algorithmic filtering that reduces diversity, and we must resist creating enemies over differing opinions. Following Jesus's prayer in John 17:21 for unity, we work together with the Church rather than against each other. Our communication should never encourage rage, even when the Church itself sometimes lacks compassion.

The Revolutionary Power of Listening

Silence and listening have become revolutionary. We must remain human, giving others the powerful feeling of being truly heard. This includes posting positive comments, including other believers, and showing solidarity with those who need support.

Salt and Light Balance

Both salt and light are necessary for effective digital ministry. The Church with too much salt becomes parochial and stuck, while light alone can become shiny, superficial, and empty. Digital missionaries need the salt of the one, holy, Catholic, apostolic Church combined with creative evangelization that brings light to the world.

Practical Applications

  • Meet quarterly with priests and bishops for guidance and accountability
  • Support fellow believers and missionaries in challenging situations
  • Focus on building people up through experimental approaches
  • Maintain regular communication with Church hierarchy
  • Remember that we don't know who we'll ultimately influence - faith is an immeasurable gift
The central call: Be voices of moral clarity in a world of confusion, especially for the voiceless, while remaining true witnesses firm in truth and overflowing with hope.


Pope Leo XIV's Address to Digital Missionaries in St. Peter's Basilica (July 29, 2025):

In the name of the Father, of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit, peace be with you!

Dear brothers and sisters, we have began with this greeting: peace be with you!

How much we need peace in these times marked by hostility and war, which in turn calls us to give witness to the greeting of the Risen Lord: “Peace be with you!” (Jn 20:19).  May his peace be with all of us, in our hearts and in our actions.

This is the mission of the Church: to proclaim peace to the world! The peace that comes from the Lord, who conquered death, brings us God’s forgiveness, gives us the life of the Father, and shows us the way of Love!

1. This is the mission that the Church entrusts to each of you who have come to Rome for your Jubilee. You are here to renew your commitment to nourish Christian hope in social networks and online spaces.  Peace needs to be sought, proclaimed, and shared everywhere, both in the places where we see the tragedy of war and in the empty hearts of those who have lost the meaning of life and the desire for introspection and the spiritual life.  Perhaps, today more than ever, we need missionary disciples who convey the gift of the Risen Lord to the world; who voice to the ends of the earth the hope that Jesus gives us (cf. Acts 1:3-8); and who go wherever there is a heart that waits, seeks, and is in need. Yes, to the ends of the earth, to the farthest reaches, where there is no hope.

2. There is a second challenge in this mission: always look for the “suffering flesh of Christ” in every brother and sister you encounter online.  Today we find ourselves in a new culture, deeply characterized and formed by technology.  It is up to us – it is up to each one of you – to ensure that this culture remains human.

Science and technology influence the way we live in the world, even affecting how we understand ourselves and how we relate to God, how we relate to one another.  But nothing that comes from man and his creativity should be used to undermine the dignity of others.  Our mission – your mission – is to nurture a culture of Christian humanism, and to do so together. This is the beauty of the “network” for all of us.

Faced with cultural changes throughout history, the Church has never remained passive; she has always sought to illuminate every age with the light and hope of Christ by discerning good from evil and what was good from what needed to be changed, transformed, and purified.

Today we are in a culture where the technological dimension is present in almost everything, especially as the widespread adoption of artificial intelligence will mark a new era in the lives of individuals and society as a whole.  This is a challenge that we must face: reflecting on the authenticity of our witness, on our ability to listen and speak, and on our capacity to understand and to be understood.  We have a duty to work together to develop a way of thinking, to develop a language, of our time, that gives voice to Love.

It is not simply a matter of generating content, but of creating an encounter of hearts.  This will entail seeking out those who suffer, those who need to know the Lord, so that they may heal their wounds, get back on their feet and find meaning in their lives.  Above all, this process begins with accepting our own poverty, letting go of all pretense and recognizing our own inherent need for the Gospel.  And this process is a communal endeavor.

3. This brings us to the third invitation in this mission, which I extend to all of you: “go and mend the nets.” Jesus called his first apostles while they were mending their fishing nets (cf. Mt 4:21-22). He asks the same of us today. Indeed, he asks us to weave other nets: networks of relationships, of love, of gratuitous sharing where friendship is profound and authentic; networks where we can mend what has been broken, heal from loneliness, not focus on the number of followers, but experience the greatness of infinite Love in every encounter; networks that give space to others more than to ourselves, where no “bubble” can silence the voices of the weakest; networks that liberate and save; networks that help us rediscover the beauty of looking into each other’s eyes; networks of truth.  In this way, every story of shared goodness will be a knot in a single, immense network: the network of networks, the network of God.

Be agents of communion, capable of breaking down the logic of division and polarization, of individualism and egocentrism.  Centre yourselves on Christ, so as to overcome the logic of the world, of fake news, of frivolity, with the beauty and light of Truth (cf. Jn 8:31-32).

Before concluding with a blessing and commending your witness to the Lord, I would like to thank you for all the good you have done and continue to do in your lives: for pursuing your dreams, for your love for the Lord Jesus and your love for the Church, for the help you give to those who suffer, and for your journey along the virtual highways.

#digitalismisso #tuttituttitutti #jubilee2025


Tuesday, August 5, 2025

Seven Sacred Thresholds -- A Jubilee Pilgrimage Through Rome

A little over a week ago, I crossed seven sacred thresholds in Rome - each one a doorway into silence, mercy, and mystery. Conceived by St. Philip Neri in the 16th century, this Seven Churches pilgrimage is one of the oldest Roman traditions. I walked about 15 km (9 miles) in 3 days across the city, passing through the Appian Way countryside, the catacombs, and some of Rome's best basilicas.

Every 25 years, the Roman Catholic Church declares a Jubilee Year, marked by renewal, mercy, and pilgrimage which the faithful are encouraged to undertake to acquire the Jubilee indulgence. The Jubilee Year has origins in the Old Testament. Rooted in Leviticus 25, the Jubilee Year in ancient Israel, occurring every fifty years, was a sacred time marked by the release of debts, liberation of slaves, and restoration of land - a divine reset for society.

In the New Testament, Jesus directly connects Isaiah 61:1-2 to His mission in Luke 4:18-19, when He reads from the scroll in the synagogue at Nazareth:

“The Spirit of the Lord is upon me, because he hath anointed me to preach the gospel to the poor; he hath sent me to heal the brokenhearted, to preach deliverance to the captives, and recovering of sight to the blind, to set at liberty them that are bruised, to preach the acceptable year of the Lord.” (Luke 4:18–19; cf. Isaiah 61:1–2)

Immediately after reading, Jesus declares: “Today this scripture is fulfilled in your hearing.” (Luke 4:21)

This moment marks His public announcement of His messianic identity and mission. Jesus presents Himself as He who fulfils the ancient Jubilee, having come to "preach the acceptable year of the Lord,” a time of grace, restoration, and liberation.

You may be wondering: What is a Jubilee indulgence?

It’s a gift of grace: The Church offers it to help people wipe away the spiritual consequences (called temporal punishment) of past sins that have already been forgiven.

Not a “get out of jail free” card: It doesn't replace confession or repentance - rather, it's like clearing the leftover emotional or spiritual mess after you’ve said “I’m sorry” and truly meant it.

To obtain a Jubilee indulgence, believers go on a sacred pilgrimage to Rome to walk to designated sacred Jubilee sites and walk through the Holy Door, take part in the Holy Mass and liturgical celebrations in any of the four Major Papal Basilicas of Rome, participate in Eucharistic adoration or meditation, pray for the Pope's intentions, and perform acts of mercy or charity. The crossing of the threshold of a Holy Door signifies that a pilgrim allows him or herself to be guided by Jesus and thus find their salvation.

Here's a preview of the Seven Churches pilgrimage I accomplished recently in Rome:


I invite you to watch this trailer as an introduction to my full journey.

Two things struck me in this walking pilgrimage:

1. Silence is a virtue. We need it for prayer. I used the word 'detoxifying' before when I visited Santo Domingo de Silos in 2014. Silence is detoxifying - stepping away from the daily rhythms of life, unplugging from the noise and chaos, and restoring our sense of faith in God. It's only in Silence that we can truly contemplate, discern, and hear God's whisper. 1 Kings 19:12 (NIV) says, "After the earthquake came a fire, but the LORD was not in the fire. And after the fire came a gentle whisper." God reveals Himself to Elijah (and us) not in dramatic displays of power but sometimes in subtle ways.

2. Divine revelation comes in Silence. In Silence, I hear that God loves each and everyone of us SO MUCH. Everything points to the LOVE of our Triune God. Jesus Christ's coming into our world, His suffering and death on the Cross, and His resurrection - they're acts of purposeful love. He didn't suffer for naught or vanity. It's to save us. It's the same profound love that I had connected to in Menlo Park's Vallombrosa eons ago, and I'm getting reacquainted to this mysterious love on this pilgrimage. He grants us consolation in this love to help us through difficult times. This love is available to all people no matter who they are: good, bad, easy, hard, young, old.... todos! tous! everyone!

Where love appears, there's harmony, smiles, gratitude, gentleness... but where it lacks, there's hostility, rudeness, and aggression (even passive aggressiveness).

I see with clarity now what Pope Francis had long promoted - love, joy, peace, and a heart for the poor. Both the late Pope Francis and our current Pope Leo XIV have prayed often for the victims of conflicts. Peace remains one of the Pope's deepest intentions. Let us all join in prayer for Peace -- in Gaza, Ukraine, along the Cambodia-Thailand border, and wherever war continues to blow up.

I feel what our Lord Jesus Christ pins for - a yearning for people to love Him and to have love for one another, for peace.

As pilgrims of hope, in this Jubilee Year of Hope, we choose NOT to focus on the dark and tragic events around us, but to pay attention to all the good in the world. In this pilgrimage, the good can be seen in smiling nuns who greet you, the nodding affirmation of a priest who hears your confession, the beauty of historic Roman architecture that stands the test of time, the meaningful encounters you meet with fellow pilgrims, and the renewals received through the Holy Spirit. We choose to bring our salt and light into this world, to bring out goodness and share the fruit of the Spirit in the face of so much evil, violence, and suffering. The reason for our Hope is in the Word of God, the Logos, in Jesus Christ.

I encourage you dear reader to go into a quiet place to contemplate, pray, and get close to the love of Jesus Christ. Invite Him into your life.

Let me know if you have any questions or comments - like if you wish for me to elaborate on my experience in Vallombrosa, perhaps?

May every threshold you cross stir the soul and awaken the Spirit within.

In a future post, I'll take you through my first day of walking - from the majestic St. Peter's Basilica to the historic St. Paul Outside the Walls, with stops and quiet reflections along the way.

God bless you, my dear readers.


Saturday, June 28, 2025

Pilgrims of Hope: A Journey of Faith, Story, and Digital Witness


Introduction: The Road to Belonging

Next month, I'll be heading to Rome to attend the Jubilee of Digital Missionaries and Catholic Influencers. This pilgrimage offers the rare grace of passing through the Holy Door (Porta Sancta) at St. Peter's Basilica - opened only once every 25 years in a Jubilee year. The theme of the 2025 Jubilee, as declared by Pope Francis, is "Pilgrims of Hope."

Every Jubilee is a sacred call to spiritual renewal, reconciliation, and pilgrimage - a timely invitation to re-center my life, place God first, and surrender everything into His hands.


When I registered for the Digital Missionaries conference, I was asked to respond to several questions - not simple yes-or-no inquiries, but ones that prompted deep reflection.

In this post, I'd like to share how I became a Roman Catholic - spiritually, culturally, and personally.

A Search for Home: Why I Became Catholic

Let me begin with my personal background. Although I was raised in an unreligious family, my father - who attended a Catholic boys' school - naturally became my first Catholic influencer, even though he himself was never baptized. Of all the movies he brought my brother and me to see, the one I most vividly remember watching as a little girl was Jesus of Nazareth. Strange, isn't it?

My parents enrolled me in a Catholic girls' school for two years in Malaysia. It was there that my curiosity about Catholicism was first sparked - by angels and saints, and of course, by Jesus. I would often slip away into the school chapel. No one taught me to pray, but I instinctively knew I could speak to God. What troubles did I carry as a 7- or 8-year-old? I was a lazy student ~ I simply disliked studying. As exams approached, I feared failure. So, I went to the chapel to pray. Of course, I failed. But that never discouraged me from praying. I always knew I could talk to God. And even when my prayers weren't answered, somehow, that was okay.

Years later, after moving to Singapore, a woman approached me on the bus and started talking about church. I took her contact details and promised to join her that Sunday. When my father found out, he wouldn't let me - a minor - go out with a stranger. Instead, he personally brought me to a Catholic church. From then on, we occasionally attended Mass together, though we remained unbaptized. I remember standing in the back during Communion, watching as others lined up, wishing I could join them. But Dad said I couldn't. And so we waited quietly until Mass ended. 

Over time, I began attending Mass on my own or with friends. Gradually, I came to know the rhythm of the Catholic liturgy - its rituals, prayers, and silences - even though I was still uninitiated.

Looking back, I realize how often Roman Catholics gently surrounded me. In junior college in Singapore, a close friend and I attended novenas every Saturday after our half-day classes, followed by lunch at a food court - our two-year routine. In college in the U.S., two Korean friends took me to Mass at the Newman Center in Lexington, Kentucky. I wouldn't have gone otherwise. At work, I grew close with my Singaporean manager, also Catholic - he even gifted me a Bible. During a season of personal struggle, I joined the Catholic Community at Stanford and found positive influences and comfort in the people there. Later, in the Netherlands during my MBA studies, a Colombian friend and I attended the only English Vigil Mass held in the crypt of the Onze Lieve Vrouwe Basiliek.

At every one of those Masses, I observed but never partook of the Eucharist. Eventually, I discovered that I could approach the priest for a blessing by crossing my arms across my chest. I tried this once on Easter Island, but the priest didn't recognize the gesture. We stood awkwardly for a moment until I stepped aside. I suppose that form of blessing wasn't practiced there.

Because of my itinerant nature, my fear of commitment, or perhaps my own pride, I kept postponing baptism. I knew I could find peace in church, yet I didn't feel ready to dedicate myself fully.

That changed in the summer of 2010. I had settled in Boston and, after all my moving, felt it was time to stop wandering. I began RCIA (the Rite of Christian Initiation of Adults) in Boston and later transferred to St. Clare Parish in Santa Clara, California, in the Diocese of San Jose. There, at the Easter Vigil on April 23, 2011, I was baptized into the Roman Catholic Church by Father George Aranha.

At the Altar of the World: RCIA and The Eucharist

My RCIA formation lasted about eight months. A group of eight of us gathered nearly every Tuesday evening in the rectory at St. Clare Church. Some of us were preparing for Confirmation; others, like me, for baptism. The program was lovingly led by Diane and Cathy, who guided us with patience and wisdom.

Above: Diane (left) and Cathy (right)

We learned about the mystery of the Holy Trinity - God the Father, God the Son, and God the Holy Spirit - and explored the Church's seven sacraments: Baptism, Confirmation, Eucharist, Penance (or Reconciliation), Anointing of the Sick, Holy Orders, and Matrimony. These sacraments are not just rites; they are channels of grace that draw us deeper into intimacy with the Lord.

Later, we learned about the saints and their role in the Church. Saints were holy men and women who lived exemplary Christian lives and serve as models of faith and intercessors in heaven - though we do not pray to them as we pray to the Triune God. As part of our RCIA journey, we were invited to choose a Confirmation saint - someone we admired and felt a spiritual affinity with. I chose St. Francis of Assisi, whose humility, love for nature, and surrender to God resonated deeply with me.

Above left: Rite of Sending at St. Clare Church - I inscribed my name in the Book of the Elect; Above right: Rite of Election at the Cathedral Basilica of Saint Joseph in San Jose, California, with Monsignor Francis Cilia (March 14, 2011)

Even now, 14 years later, I find myself moved when witnessing the Sacrament of Confirmation. Recently, at a Confirmation Mass in Phnom Penh, I saw a young boy choose Blessed Carlo Acutis as his Confirmation saint. Knowing that Blessed Carlo Acutis will be canonized on September 7, 2025, as the first millennial saint, filled me with joy and hope for the next generation.


Of all the sacraments, it is the Eucharist that anchors my spiritual life. I can still remember the overwhelming emotion of receiving the Holy Communion for the first time following my baptism. Tears welled up in my eyes as I knelt, mindful of Christ's sacrifice on the Cross and His abiding presence in the consecrated host. My soul had been ransomed by our Good Shepherd, and I was now fed by His grace.

To this day, every time I receive the Eucharist, I feel that same sacred trembling. It is a gift too profound to articulate fully - a quiet miracle that continues to nourish, sustain, and sanctify.

Sacred Symbols, Shared Peace

What I love most about the Roman Catholic Church is her universality, fraternity, and solidarity. Everywhere I've traveled, I've found the same Mass ritual - a shared language of prayer that transcends geography. The only variation might be the local vernacular during the liturgy or homily, but the structure remains deeply familiar.

Whether in French, Spanish, Italian, Croatian, Portuguese, or even Pascuan, the Mass always unfolds in these sacred movements:
  • The Introductory Rites with the penitential act, Kyrie, and Gloria
  • The Liturgy of the Word with Scripture readings, homily, Creed, and prayers of the faithful
  • The Liturgy of the Eucharist, including the presentation of gifts, the Eucharistic Prayer, the Lord’s Prayer, the sign of peace, the Agnus Dei (Lamb of God), Communion, and finally,
  • The Concluding Rites with the final blessing and dismissal
This rhythmic flow of communal worship remains unchanged, no matter the country or continent. It’s as if I am never far from home.

Among the most poignant moments in the Mass is the sign of peace. From a warm hug in Texas to two pecks on the cheeks in Fátima, Portugal, to simple handshakes paired with "Peace be with you" in countless tongues, the gesture always feels authentic. In that moment, strangers dissolve into siblings, united in Christ. Language holds no barrier; love needs no translation.

Culturally, the Roman Catholic Church speaks through her architecture. Her cathedrals across Europe are monumental testaments to faith and imagination. Their grandeur proclaims the beauty of divine mystery - each stone and spire a silent witness to centuries of belief.

Above: On the Camino de Santiago, with Burgos Cathedral in the background - a silent sermon of stone, light, and centuries of faith.

Here’s an excerpt from my book, “Raised with Him: A Journey of Grace from Valley to Heavenly Perspectives and Realities,” that reflects this reverence:

"These beautiful yet complex cathedrals, whether they are Gothic, Renaissance, or Baroque, portray a window to the transcendent: the cruciform plan of a nave and transepts reminding us of Jesus Christ's death on the cross to redeem humanity, the towering spires stretching and reaching for the celestial city, the glorious stained glass windows illumining church members with Bible stories, the ornate sculptures of Christ, saints, seraphin, and cherubim standing by the columned interior walls as imageries of faith, the rib vault ceiling (in Gothic architecture) protecting and supporting the long church nave leading to the altar, the thick round pillars buttressing the basilica, the candles' flame burning for believers' prayers, hopes, and thanksgivings, the old air permeating the holy space and sacred ground, the adjacent peristyle cloister and manicured green lawn (sometimes with a Cypress tree growing tall and upright as a reminder to stand up for truth and righteousness) offering an ode to God's creation in nature, and the arched hall and doorways lifting our vision and spirit to a higher plane. These cathedrals were carefully and piously built with not just stones but virtuosos' heart of noble faith." (p. 99)

In these sacred spaces, I find not only beauty - but belonging.

Sacred Music and Spiritual Intellect

One of the many things that strikes me about the Roman Catholic Church is its music. I love listening to "Pange lingua gloriosi corporis mysterium," which translates to "Sing, my tongue, the mystery of the glorious body," a medieval Latin hymn composed by St. Thomas Aquinas for the Feast of Corpus Christi. Its solemn beauty reflects the reverence due to the Eucharist, drawing the soul into contemplation.


I'm also deeply drawn to Gregorian chant, especially from the monks of Santo Domingo de Silos. I was blessed to hear their sacred voices firsthand during my Camino de Santiago pilgrimage in 2014, when I detoured to Santo Domingo de Silos for a couple of nights. It was an otherworldly experience to immerse myself in their prayer services at the Church of San Sebastián de Silos.


Here's an excerpt from my book that captures that moment:

"The monastery's gentle, godly, and graceful monks clad in plain black robes were a great influence on me. I admired their holy lives of sacred devotion, discipline, and divine singing of Gregorian chant in their daily prayer services, a tradition they have kept since the 11th century.... their a cappella choral music bears witness to God and brings relief, healing, and blessings to many stressed-out people in the world. As I listened to the monks' pure, heavenly vocals echoing soft, prayerful melodies around the church's dim sanctuary, I felt blessed to be a part of their ethereal worship of our benevolent God. My internal world felt rightly ordered in Santo Domingo de Silos. Not only did I gain peace of heart and breadth, depth, and clarity of mind, but I also felt closer to God as I detoxed from stimulants on the Camino and in life." (p. 127)

Music, for me, is not just artistic expression - it’s a form of prayer that transcends words.

Equally transformative are the intellectual treasures of the Church. I've long admired the writings of the early doctors of the Church like St. Thomas Aquinas, St. Augustine of Hippo, St. John Henry Newman, and St. Catherine of Siena. Their teachings enlighten my mind and deepen my faith. St. Catherine of Siena spoke of discernment through intense self-awareness (of our sinfulness and nothingness), contrasted with the knowledge of God's grace and fullness. But even earlier, it was St. Augustine who urged us to turn inward through what he called "textured interiority." But spiritual maturity isn’t only an inward journey - it also involves cultivating the mind. As St. John Henry Newman wrote, "There is beauty in a cultivated mind."

That balance between inner growth and intellectual depth continues to shape my journey. I try to stay attuned to both ancient and modern voices. One recent piece that stirred my thoughts was “Paradox, Seeming Inconsistency, and Tension” by Fr. Ron Rolheiser - a reflection on the mystery and richness of faith that defies easy answers.

In truth, much of my spiritual and emotional growth has come from a blend of experiences:
  1. Travel, which broadened my empathy and perspective
  2. 12-step meetings I attended in the U.S., where I learned to take personal responsibility and examine my motives
  3. And above all, Scripture, which continues to renew my heart, mind, and soul
“In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God.” (John 1:1). That verse continues to reveal new dimensions each time I read it. When I began journaling meaningful passages, I found myself softening... transforming. Scripture is mysterious, yet honest, real, and deeply powerful.

Recent developments in the life of the Church have stirred a new kind of curiosity in me. The election of an American Pope - Pope Leo XIV on May 8, 2025 - has revived my interest in the Vatican and its inner workings. Pope Leo XIV struck me as introspective, wise, humble, and serene. Since his election, I've found myself drawn to Roma and Vatican news, something I had never paid much attention to before. As I read about the cardinals' backgrounds, I've been inspired by their multilingual abilities, rich education, and the breadth of pastoral and cultural experiences they bring to the Church.

Digital Mission, Ancient Faith

So we come to the heart of this post.

When I first created this blog, I never envisioned it as a form of mission work. Back then, terms like "digital missionary" or "content creator" weren't part of the conversation. I simply saw blogging as a hobby - a space to document my travels. But as time went on and my faith in Christ deepened, this blog became something more: a quiet outpouring of gratitude - a platform to proclaim that the Good Lord is my unfailing hope.

I’ve always enjoyed writing, photography, and travel, so this platform became a natural expression of all three. Now it feels like something sacred: a way to bring good news and publish peace (Nahum 1:15). I’ve been humbled by the kind words from readers around the world:

"Your blog is full of inspirations to travel. Congratulations."

"I love the thoroughness of your photoessays."

"THANK YOU for the beautiful pictures Janet"

"I found your blog while following my brother and sister in law's journey in Portugal. Very exciting to see so much of the world. Gives one a unique perspective. Bless you."

"You are indeed a (pretty) citizen of the world. I apreciate [sic] the detailed report you made about Porto, Portugal. You are a very sensitive and well instructed person. Next time you come to Portugal, send me an email. I will be glad to invite you for a dinner with my wife. I will show you a little more about Portuguese food. Now, I am going to look at your blog with more detail. Have a good life!"

"Sandra, I've read many a blog and "travel log" over the years and here's what I've noticed:
1. You are religious in heart, mind and soul
2. You say what's on your mind...warts and all
3. Living life in God's light is your focus.
4. You have a great sense of humor
Saludos,
Arn"

"Hello, I have just finished reading all your blog entries from Bayonne. It has taken me all afternoon. I came across your blog by google search as I still love all things Camino. Your photos are wonderful and you came across so positively, with a great philosophy and spirit. That El Acebo incident reminded me of a couple of horror nights too when I walked the Camino in the summer of 2013. Thank you so much for sharing this with the world and not keeping it private....I took a peek too at your other trips and am amazed you have managed to do so much on a modest budget. Very inspirational. Thank you again and God bless :)"

"Hi Sandra: nice to read something from you again. I am deeply touched by your sharing. You are such a practical and down to earth lady. "

"que lindas fotos...yo vivo en chile en santiago , pero vivi muchos años en Valparaiso cerro Alegre...
Saludos.Gracias por vivitar mi pais."

These comments remind me that the effort is worth it - not for recognition, but for connection.

In 2024, I began nurturing a second platform: my YouTube channel. Initially, it was just a personal archive. But as I experimented with editing and filming, I discovered how visual storytelling adds another layer of depth. From cat videos to lifestyle vlogs, I gradually invested in tools like a gimbal and a new phone to sharpen my footage and stabilize my hand.

The learning curve has been steep - editing takes time, focus, and energy I can’t always afford. Digital mission is not my full-time work. Still, every new video posted, every new subscriber gained, feels like a quiet affirmation to keep going.

While my channel doesn’t follow a single theme, I’ve curated playlists for topics I love - my cat, the Camino, Cambodia, etc. - and soon, a new one: Christianity. I know people aren’t always comfortable with religious content. But I believe it can be offered gently and authentically through glimpses of Scripture, the quiet presence of a cross, the simple joy of a life lived well in worship. Christianity isn’t boring; it’s vibrant, deep, and alive. In my own way, I hope to show that.

Authenticity matters to me, but so does reverence. I want my content to reflect beauty, dignity, and truth. I’m not here to pander to trends, but to reflect a life that glorifies God in the ordinary.

Many of my viewers are young: Gen Z and Millennials. Each group brings its own rhythms, its own spiritual hunger. It isn’t easy to reach everyone, but it’s encouraging to hear that more Millennials, especially men, are exploring traditional faiths like Catholicism. I hold hope for them, and for us.

Some of the themes closest to my heart - surrender, reconciliation, courage, stillness, gratitude, and growth - are deeply Catholic, yet universally human. If I can express those truths through a lens of beauty and faith, perhaps that’s mission enough.

May this blog and my YouTube channel be a light to reveal our Lord Jesus Christ to the young and old. And may whatever fruit comes from them be pleasing to the eyes of God.

The Jubilee in Rome: A Modern Pilgrimage

This will be my first Jubilee, though not my first pilgrimage. Like those before it, I hope this sacred journey will draw me closer to Jesus Christ and to my fellow spiritual brothers and sisters. I'm also excited to engage with other digital missionaries - sharing insights, learning new creative tools, and exploring meaningful collaborations.

This trip marks a return to Rome, but it feels entirely different from my visit in 2007. Then, I checked off the must-see tourist sites like the Colosseum, the Forum, Pantheon, and Trevi Fountain. Now my eyes are set not so much on marble and monuments, but on mercy and meaning.

I hope to walk through the Holy Door, to attend a public appearance by Pope Leo XIV, and to experience the Eternal City through the lens of devotion. I’ve mapped out a more intentional itinerary: all seven pilgrim churches of Rome, including the four major papal basilicas, each a beacon of faith through the centuries. At Saint Mary Major, one of these four, I will offer prayers in remembrance of Pope Francis.

This time, I come not only as a traveler, but as a witness; not only to see, but to seek. This pilgrimage is no longer just about place; it is about presence - of God, of others, and of my own reawakened purpose.

I look forward to it.


Thursday, December 12, 2024

San Francisco Bay Area, California, USA: November 27 - December 8, 2024


After nearly a decade in Cambodia, my trip back to the US was eye-opening. Everything amazed me - the cold weather, toilet seat covers, restroom doors that don't reach the floor, huge restaurant portions, family-sized meat packs in supermarkets, the abundance of Teslas, the size of some people, fresh organic berries, and the variety of squash. The list goes on.


I was reminded of how friendly and outgoing Americans can be. At a farmers' market, a woman approached me and asked if I'd tried ghee in coffee because she saw me filming the stall. That was refreshing. Most people thank the bus driver when they get off, something I'd never seen in Asia. Customer service in the US is also top notch. Most, if not all, staff are incredibly accommodating. Want a drink instead of a free pizza? No problem. Need new bills? They'll check the vault. Prefer two large cups for your tea bags? Done. Got any honey? They'll top it up. Hot tea at Denny's? It's on the house. Cranberry cake instead of blueberry? Absolutely. I love how flexible and obliging they are. It's no surprise that the trendy term in the US has shifted from 'customer service' to 'customer success'.

Suburban life is a welcome change from city living. It was lovely to take neighborhood walks in the crisp autumn air, enjoying the fall colors and manicured front yards. I was astonished to see little free libraries outside two homes. I appreciate the residents' generosity and their willingness to share their love for reading.

Still, there were the downsides.

During my week in the US, healthcare issues reached a boiling point, culminating in the tragic shooting of a top health insurance CEO. It's a sad state of affairs. TV and Spotify were dominated by commercials for pharmaceuticals and law firms - this says a lot about the US culture. The hotel TV was flooded with urgent Medicare (Advantage) ads, all urgently announcing the approaching sign-up deadline. It was unpleasant. Someone once said the US is a business, and I have to agree.

Prices in the US have skyrocketed. A latte or a slice of pizza costs $6.55, and most meals are $17 or more. Many ordinary folks in the Bay Area can't afford to eat out anymore, so they cook at home. A cab driver told me he needs to make $150 daily just to break even. When I pointed out the new condo developments along 101, he said they cost $900K to a million. Housing has become a major issue. People have to pay a premium to live comfortably in the Bay. Tech workers seem to be doing well, but with sudden layoffs, many are worried about their job security.

It seems the US government, at all levels, needs to catch up with the private sector. SFO hasn't changed much in a decade. From the jetway to immigration, everything looks the same - like it's stuck in the 70s. It pales in comparison to Asian airports that welcome visitors with bright, colorful LED/LCD displays. Worse yet, SFO charges $9 to rent a cart at the departure level! Everywhere else I've been, carts are always free. Seeing Tesla Cybertrucks on the road alongside the same old public transit buses makes you realize how slow the government is to modernize and innovate. Often considered the high-tech capital of the world, it's a shame that Silicon Valley’s public transportation can’t compete with those in Bangkok, Seoul, Singapore, or Tokyo.

As a result, many people rely heavily on cars. Due to the spread-out nature of workplaces, businesses, and residential areas, driving is a necessity. Instead of shopping at a multi-story mall, people must drive to several flat strip malls to get what they need. The prevalence of 9-series license plates now suggests a significant number of car upgrades since I last lived in the Bay, when 4-series plates were common. Newer, fancier, electric models now populate the road. It’s no easy feat to reduce people’s dependence on their car.

Finally, I didn't feel safe in the US. A friend mentioned that disorderliness has increased since the pandemic. Drivers are speeding more, and businesses are being pilfered. With the justice system tying their hands, cops have turned a blind eye. While random shootings aren't as common in California as compared to other states, it was still a concern in the back of my mind. When I asked a receptionist for a pair of scissors, she said they're not allowed to have those items lying around. She added, 'We're living in a crazy world now.' I couldn't agree more.

As such, I have joined the ranks of many Americans who have relocated abroad for a lower cost of living and a warmer, safer lifestyle. I enjoy patronizing small businesses because eating out in person doesn’t break the bank. My favorite chicken schnitzel plate with two sides (salad and fries), for instance, costs just $6 in Phnom Penh - no tax, no tip necessary. That's at least three times cheaper than in the Bay Area. I no longer fear for my life due to carjackings or random shootings. Healthcare and insurance in Asia are practically affordable. I don't drive anymore; instead, I get around in plentiful, wallet-friendly tuktuks. While Asia isn't perfect, I’m really happy to be back in this part of the world for the long term.

Until next time, pax et bonum.

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