Pinoy priest takes God to Ibiza

Fr. Jose Antonio Palina, the first Filipino priest delegated to the White Island, had no idea what to expect from the estimated 2,000 Filipinos working there.

He held on to the last text message of a friend – "bring Christ to Ibiza" – and took it as a challenge, and his mission as an opportunity to help strengthen Filipino migrants and their families.

When he arrived on White Island, he found them with full- and part-time jobs that barely left time for Sunday worship. The little time they had left for themselves, they spent in fiestas, bar and disco-hopping, or gambling and drinking.

With an old Bible from his suitcase, a good-humored nature and compassion for his paisanos, he reached out and tamed his new flock.

"I came to Ibiza with simple dreams for the Filipino migrants who have captured my heart," the 44-year-old priest, ordained on Dec. 28, 1991, told the Philippine Daily Inquirer.

"With all the positive and negative impact of migration, the highest price paid is the family – not only broken persons but broken relationships and families."

Father Tony, who had previous intervention work experience in Lebanon, was sent to Ibiza after taking a sabbatical leave from his hometown, the diocese of Bayombong in Nueva Vizcaya where he had almost 16 uninterrupted years of dedicated work.

He says he was given big responsibilities in the diocese and carried them out well.

Dubbed a playground of the rich and famous, Ibiza is one of the four major Balearic Islands off the coast of Southeast Spain. It’s well known for its lovely beaches, whitewashed buildings and extravagant nightlife.

Due to the tourism boom, more jobs were made available to foreigners. But the massive influx of people also earned the island a reputation for drugs and other vices.

The Filipinos, who were among the island’s early immigrants in the mid-70s, have taken advantage of the opportunities and often hold two to three jobs every summer. Most of them work as hotel and restaurant employees, domestic workers and craftsmen.

As they adapted to the Ibiza scene, most succumbed to the island’s pleasure-seeking vibe.

Father Tony’s presence marked a big difference.

"Filipinos did not use to be regular churchgoers. But now that there is a Filipino priest, they are more willing to hear Mass. It seems their faith has been renewed," says Noreen de Villa, a 29-year-old transport service administrative.

Members of the newly-formed Imaculada Concepcion Comunidad Filipina de Ibiza also frequent Father Tony’s residence at the Santo Rosario Parish to seek spiritual counseling and guidance.

There have been times when they call him to intervene in family squabbles in the wee hours of the morning.

Many have left their gambling habits to attend weekly sessions on church sacraments.

During the first months of the Filipino Mass celebration, some openly wept at hearing emotive church hymns in their language again. The enthusiastic and unique celebration evoked memories of home.

With a talented man of the cloth as their teacher, Filipino youngsters go to the parish and spend their free time learning English, playing the guitar, practicing church songs, writing the community’s Prayers of the Faithful and helping with Mass preparations.

There are certain drawbacks to life abroad, even for Father Tony. Like most overseas Filipino workers, he began to experience occasional homesickness. "I miss my family so much. We are close-knit. I call up my parents and siblings from time to time," he says, admitting that there were times when he wanted to go home.

To keep him company, some members of the congregation join him in his daily exercise. Some invite him for tapas or coffee. Others jam with him, singing Ilocano and worship songs from an old notebook that he has treasured since his seminary days.