Of dragons and warriors
Mila Serafica’s daughter, the youngest of her six children, was a year old when she found out that she had breast cancer in 2004.
A lump in her right breast had been bothering her and, when she consulted a specialist, was advised to go for sonography and wait a while until another procedure was called for. “But the mass was bothering me,” says Mila, “and it was getting painful.”
Finally, she agreed to a “breast mass excision,” which she underwent on an out-patient basis. A few days later, she met her doctor in the hallway of San Juan de Dios Hospital, where Mila works as a medical secretary, and he broke the news that her cancer was confirmed. “Naiyak ako (I broke down in tears),” she remembers. Concerned about her young children, she “bargained” with God not to take her just yet because her brood still needed her. She underwent a mastectomy on her right breast and went through chemotherapy.
Still, that wasn’t the end of Mila’s health challenges. In 2007, while visiting their parents’ tombs on All Saints Day, the “super kalan” her sister brought exploded, inflicting third-degree chemical burns on Mila and one of her children, and less serious burns on other members of her family, including two more of her children. So serious were her injuries, recalls Mila, that she required several painful skin grafts before fully recovering.
Given her many health challenges, including the long, painful process of recovery, Mila could very well have sat back and enjoyed the lazy, carefree life. Surely, given the many blows she had received, she deserved to take things easy?
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But Mila is not called a “survivor” for nothing.
About twice or thrice a week, including Sundays, this 50-year-old commutes to Rizal Park, on the shores of Manila Bay, and there joins “Fuego Filipinas,” a mixed dragon boat team that includes four women cancer warriors—herself and two other breast cancer survivors, and another who has survived colon cancer.
Jackie Caniza, a long-time member of the team and a dragon boat racer since her college days, says she and her teammates were inspired by the teams of other cancer survivors they had met as competitors in an international event in Malaysia. “We talked about it and thought: ‘Why not form a team that goes beyond just competition and also serves a social good?’” remarks Jackie.
The decision to form a team composed of cancer survivors inspired them to organize Fuego Filipinas, although they still have a ways to go before they can spin off a team entirely composed of cancer warriors because the typical team is composed of 22 members.
When I ask if breast cancer survivors, especially those who have undergone mastectomy, are not handicapped by the absence of tissue on their chests, the Fuego females say dragon boat racing requires rowers to use the muscles in their backs, “core” (abdominal area), and “a little bit of the legs.” Says another team member: “If you rely on your arms and upper body strength, you’ll be easily fatigued.”
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The six women I talk to—Jackie, Raylynne dela Paz, Raquel Llarena, Iska Lo, Kristine Mandap and Rica Añonuevo—are one in their assessment of dragon boat racing’s many advantages. “It’s the epitome of a team sport,” says one. “There is no star and you really have to pull your weight and work with everyone else.” More than physical prowess, they say, dragon boat racing calls for cooperation and camaraderie. “You can’t row faster than your teammates, you’ll just throw off the rhythm of the team. Instead, you have to work as one and listen to the beat of the drum and the instructions of the leader.”
For Mila, who joined the team at the urging of Raquel who is a doctor, taking part in dragon boat racing means “nag-e-enjoy ako, nakakalimutan ko ang mga problema ko (I enjoy myself and I forget all my problems).”
She has always been athletic, says Mila, and the only thing she misses because of their Sunday practice is that “I can no longer go to the market as I used to do.”
If Mila was looking for a reason to back out, her first day of rowing certainly gave her enough. “It rained that day, and nobody told me to bring extra clothes,” she recalls. “I arrived home sopping wet, but I was all smiles and excited to share my experience with my family.” Right now, she says, she’s even working on her sister to convince her to join Fuego Filipinas.
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Over the years, say the rowers, dragon boat racing has exploded in popularity here. In Metro Manila and other parts of the country, teams of men and women have been formed by groups like the Philippine National Police, the different military branches, civic clubs, schools and even Filipino communities abroad. An annual dragon boat racing international competition is held in Boracay, while some teams compete regularly abroad. Their dream, they say, is to see dragon boat racing reach the same level of popularity and respect as it does in Hong Kong, Singapore, Taiwan and China.
The Fuego Filipinas team itself is a little community of diversity, with the women I meet spanning the gamut of careers from executive coaching to IT, from medicine to lobbying. There is a doctor among the breast cancer survivors in the team, and Mila herself says that “hindi ko akalain mag-e-enjoy ako nang ganito sa isang sport (I never imagined I would enjoy myself this much in a sport).”
(Anyone, especially cancer survivors, interested in joining Fuego Filipinas may check out the team’s Facebook account and Twitter account @fuegofilipinas, or e-mail [email protected].)
