Ting-Init = Ting-Tuli.

When April arrived, it also brought with it Ting-Init, which is summer. It literally means “hot season”. Although it seems as if the Philippines is summer all year round, April and May seem to scorch through the skin and make a foreigner sweat enough to be able to run a small hydroelectric plant out of all the pores in the body.

Ting-Init also means a few other things—school vacation, Holy Week, summer camps, and circumcision. Yes, Ting-Init is also Ting-Tuli (circumcision season) here in the Philippines. All the kids are out of school, so there is no better time to snip that foreskin of 5-10 year old boys who are excited to join the ranks of men before them. Unlike in the United States (if circumcision is chosen by the parents), here the practice is to circumcise children once they are old enough to know the “meaning” of such a ritual.

Once it’s decided if a boy is going to be circumcised, the parents usually ask him if he’s “ready”. Knowing that this will bring him one step closer to full manhood (about which I could write a whole book in and of itself), the boy agrees that he’s ready. Before the operation takes place, some boys are very brave, while others show their fear on their sleeves. If this is the case, there are a few tactics utilized to further convince the boy that this horrific and painful little ceremony will benefit him in the long run. For instance, adults will convince the boy that if he does not get circumcised, he will not be able to grow taller, which of course all boys want to do. Other kids also tell him that he will be gay (or maybe he already is gay) if he chooses not to get circumcised (if he doesn’t “choose” it this year, he’ll “choose” it next year…it’s only a matter of time anyways). And of course, there is the strategy of lying to the child and telling him that it won’t hurt. Another tactic is to convince the boy that he will be the only one that is not circumcised, therefore further making him the center of embarrassment amongst his friends. At this point, (from my observations, at least), other kids and the adults are making fun of the boy so much anyway that it’s to the point where it will always be remembered—“Hey, remember when so-and-so cried about getting circumcised? He was soooo afraid.” It’s really a horrible little social ceremony to watch (not the circumcision itself, but rather the conversation that leads up to it if the boy is scared in the least bit).

While I sat with a boy who was 5-years-old, and he was bawling and gripping onto a pole so as not to get dragged away into the surgical room (aka the library, which was used as the central spot for circumcisions during a recent medical mission), I quietly rubbed his back and told him that yes, I would be afraid too. I would undoubtedly cry, and I would definitely be hanging onto something stationary. He was doing all the things that I would have. But while I was sitting with this boy and displaying what I saw as empathy and understanding, I was surrounded by children and adults that were doing all of the above—convincing, teasing, lying, etc. It made me wonder—was I making the situation better or worse? I was comforting this child who was simply scared of getting an important body part permanently altered—I was there for him when he needed someone to understand, which is exactly what a youth worker should be doing. At the same time though, I was mixing up these cultural lines and perhaps making it more difficult for the others to “convince” him to get the procedure done. Since I was there, saying I understand and that I would be scared too, I was perhaps blurring those lines. It occurred to me a few times that it may just be easier to walk away and let them do their cultural “thing”, but in the long run, I decided to stay and support him, just by sitting by him and helping him feel like someone was on his side, whether he chose to get circumcised or not.

The tough part is that I understand the whole “cultural tradition” thing—it’s just what is done, what has always been done, and what will probably continue to be done. Who am I to say what’s right and wrong? But sometimes it’s not so easy to just sit back and say, “It’s just cultural.” When I see a 5-year-old who is completely terrified about what is about to happen to him, it shows the human side of culture. And things don’t always have to be how they have always been. That little boy chose not to get circumcised yesterday. He’ll wait until next year, when he’ll be a bit older and perhaps wiser to make such a “choice”.