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One of my most vivid memories of my Egan Fellowship trip to the Philippines isn’t something I saw, but rather something I heard.
The roosters.
Wherever we went in the rural areas, and even in some not-so-rural ones, we were accompanied by the crowing of roosters. So much for this naive city-girl’s notion that roosters crow only in the morning. The Filipino roosters crow all day long.
At first it was a novelty. Then, it got a little annoying. And then it began to have a deep symbolic meaning for me.
Read more in my latest article for National Catholic Register.
