05/09/2026
More Than Just a Trip to Penang
When I first boarded the bus with the 25 altar servers, three volunteers and Fr Andrew Manickam, I had no idea what this journey would become.
We began the day with Holy Mass at 6.30 a.m., followed by a group photograph with Fr Andrew. After that, the bus became unusually quiet. Fr Andrew and Marilyn asked questions, but the responses from the servers were mostly soft, short and hesitant. As volunteers, we were left wondering what was going on in their minds. Were they excited to be there? Were they simply coming because they had to? We really did not know.
Then Alex, the head server, began communicating with us. Alex is someone I have always noticed for his utmost reverence and love for the Mass, and perhaps without realizing it, he became one of the first bridges between the servers and the volunteers. Slowly, voices began to emerge from different parts of the bus.
Still, there was a certain silence.
After lunch, the camera became my greatest helper.
I had the difficult task of making them smile, encouraging them to pose and trying to bring out their creativity. At first, many were shy and unsure of what to do. But slowly, they began to learn. One pose became another. One smile led to another. They started laughing, teasing one another and becoming less conscious of the camera.
And somewhere along the way, I realized that I was witnessing something much more precious than photography.
I was witnessing them opening up.
That evening, barely an hour after arriving in Penang, Fr Andrew brought everyone to Penang Hill. The excitement began to show. The conversations became louder and more spontaneous. I tried to get to know them personally, and once again, my camera became the bridge. I was surprised to discover that some of them were actually following my work.
As I photographed them, something beautiful happened. They became more comfortable with me. They began suggesting poses, becoming creative and allowing their personalities to emerge. The conversations became deeper with every moment.
The camera was no longer just capturing their faces.
It was capturing their transformation.
That night, Fr. Andrew brought everyone to Batu Ferringhi, where they had a wonderful time. Yet when everyone returned to the bus, the silence returned almost immediately.
I smiled to myself.
Perhaps they had simply exhausted all their words for the day.
The following morning, we attended Mass at the Church of St Francis Xavier. Fr Andrew's homily touched something very important. He reminded the servers that those who serve at the altar are among those who come closest to God during the celebration of the Eucharist. That closeness is not something to take for granted. It is a privilege given by God.
He reminded them that when God calls them to serve, they should come and serve, because through that service, God desires to remain close to them.
Interestingly, the servers were extremely quiet during that Mass. But this time, the silence was different. They were not serving at the altar. They were sitting among the congregation, participating in the Mass and responding to the prayers and responses. It almost seemed strange for them to experience the Mass from the pews rather than from their familiar place at the altar.
After Mass came more sightseeing—Esplanade, Chowrasta Road and some shopping. Eventually, we returned to the centre to pack our things and prepare for home.
But there was one unfinished business.
Football.
The boys had been asking to play since the first day, but the weather had not been kind to us. The volunteers had to keep refusing their request. Finally, we gave them some time to play.
And perhaps that was the moment something completely changed. After the football session, the bus came alive.
For the first time, I began hearing conversations everywhere. Laughter. Teasing. Excitement.
One of them said, “What could I do? Our team is made up of basketball players, not football!”
I simply smiled.
It was such an innocent and straightforward conversation, but it made me wonder how much more there was hidden behind those quiet faces we had met at the beginning of the journey.
There was so much waiting to come out.
Fr Andrew then took us across to the mainland by ferry. For those who had never travelled by ferry before, it became another special experience. Eventually, we arrived at the Church of St Anne, where we spent some time together.
By then, the difference was remarkable.
The same children who had been so hesitant in front of my camera on the first day were now completely comfortable. They posed naturally. They became creative. They laughed. They interacted.
And I kept taking photographs.
But by then, I knew I was not merely photographing a trip.
I was photographing a journey.
A journey from silence to conversation.
From hesitation to confidence.
From strangers to friends.
From simply being a group of altar servers to becoming a little community.
As I looked through my camera, I began to realize that perhaps this was the real gift of the trip. The places we visited were beautiful, the ferry ride was memorable, the food and shopping were enjoyable, and the boys finally got their football.
But the most beautiful thing was watching these young people slowly discover one another.
And perhaps, in a small way, allowing them to discover themselves too.
Fr Andrew's words at Mass stayed with me: "God gives them the privilege of serving at the altar because He wants to remain close to them."
Maybe this trip was another way of allowing God to remain close to them—not only at the altar, but also in their friendships, their laughter, their conversations and the simple joy of being together.
We headed home at around 5.00 p.m., after an hour of tea at a nearby restaurant.
I came home with hundreds of photographs.
But more importantly, I came home carrying memories of 25 young altar servers who, little by little, allowed us to see what was behind their silence.
I am truly grateful to Fr Andrew, the volunteers, the benefactors and the Parish Finance Committee for making this trip possible.
This was the parish's way of saying thank you for the beautiful service our altar servers offer at every Mass.
And for me, it was a privilege to stand behind the camera and quietly witness their journey.
Sometimes, a photographer does not merely capture moments.
Sometimes, a photographer is given the privilege of witnessing hearts slowly opening.
