Confessions of a Cat-holic (39)

I had a much tougher childhood. Growing up for me was full of fights, endless fights and battles. Every day I was hustling. I remembered for a good chunk of the semester, our school would celebrate Easter, aka resurrection of Jesus, by posting graphics on the pillars of our hall with Jesus' abashed body full of scars and wounds on a big cross hang up on the mountain top. There were blood, thorns, a fake crown and Roman soldiers whipping him on his way to the cross. He was tormented by all the people of Jerusalem, some even spitted on his face to humiliate him. The graphics were hand drawn with very realistic asthetics and there were around half a hundred of these pictures on the pillars, each telling a story which everyone should have known. I thought to myself, who on earth would want to be a Christian? I kind of fell in love with the Catholic church, after all it was the Roman soldiers who killed Jesus and pierced his lungs with a spear so he died of dehydration and excessive bleeding. To make it worse, the school actually described what came out from his lungs on the cross. It was a mixture of body fluid, blood and pleural effusion. God, Romans were sadistic, so I said to myself.

The Pentecost was a huge celebration in our school; for over 50 days, we prayed the Rosarium Virginis Mariae, which made up of the Joyful Mysteries, Sorrowful Mysteries, Glorious Mysteries and the Luminous Mysteries. We would bow to Mother Mary, kissed her feet and gave her the greatest honors almost like how North Korean citizens gave their praise to Kim Il-sung. So I guessed I learned to be a very hypocritical person through daily rituals like this. The Catholic church made us say the prayers with utmost sincerity, but at the same time flooded us with intensely violent images showing us how Jesus died to warn us about the life of a self-proclaimed Son of God.

Romans were obviously known for their cruelty, throwing humans, lions, wolves, criminals and slaves into the Colosseum to watch them kill each other for public good and entertainment. The bloody scenes of Jesus' crucifixion were just a starter; it was just the beginning to spark our curiosity about what really happened to Jesus in his last days. To make it worse, my school actually decorated the public notice board with detailed description of international torture methods. Something was universal, such as the way we hated saints. Easter was a hell of a time for me. First, it was Jesus being hang on a cross for preaching God; then it was the top ten Manchurian cruelty punishments. I saw images of women being put on a horse on a stick on its seat piercing through the lady's womb and the worst part of it was she could not die immediately. She was left to sore and bleed for prolonged period of time and might even receive treatment if neccessary to keep her alive. Other torture treatments included the boiling of human body to remove the skin; slicing off the flesh from a criminal piece by piece until he died from pain; a man being tied to five horses that ran in different directions so he ended up dying with a limbless and headless torso; tying a man onto a burning copper rod so his skin would be stuck onto the metal, thus detached from his body little by little; putting a metal flower-shaped jagged saw that was capable of spinning so it would keep spashing out flesh from a woman's uterus.

Hong Kong and, of course, Wanchai were a place where east met west. Our school was no different. We tried to be international too. After a series of horror graphics on the notice board, the school continued along a similar theme, posting pictures of western torture treatments. Cruxifixion was one of them. Then it was Peter's cruxifixion, like what happened to Jesus but upside down. Also, there were the rat torture method, crushed under the elephant, the brazen bull, amputation, the iron maiden, the breaking wheel, death by boiling, etc.

Why would I still remember? Propaganda. Every school had it, we had it too. But it was a bit different. We were taught to hate Jesus, while SPCC was almost the opposite. So their brainwashing tricks just wouldn't work on me.