My name is Fr. Joseph Phan Anh Tuan. I was born in Vietnam on February 1, 1984, and I belong to the Salesian Congregation of Don Bosco. Since 2011, I have been a missionary in the Amazon rainforest, among the indigenous peoples of Venezuela. The missionary vocation is a mystery—a gift that God gives to each person in a unique way. The Salesian Congregation constantly invites us to bring God’s love to all peoples, especially to those who have not yet received the Gospel. Article 30 of our Constitutions expresses this clearly: the missionary is called to welcome the values of peoples and to share in their hopes and struggles. These words deeply shaped my journey. After about three years of vocational discernment, I offered myself for mission work wherever I was needed. In 2011, I was sent to Venezuela. A New Beginning from Zero When I arrived, I did not know even a single word of Spanish—not even the simplest greetings. I felt like a one- or two-year-old child, starting from nothing. After three months of studying the language in Caracas, I was sent into the Amazon rainforest. That is where my real mission began. Not only did I have to continue learning Spanish, but I also had to encounter a completely new language and culture: that of the indigenous people. I was told, “If you learn the people’s language, you will win their hearts.” And that proved to be true. I was sent to continue the work of the missionaries who came before me—many of them Italian. My responsibilities included supporting the school, teaching catechism, animating the Christian community, and caring for the chapel. But just as important was sharing daily life: working the land, cultivating bananas, cassava, pineapples, and other crops. The Shock of the Jungle Arriving in the jungle was a profound shock. No electricity. No internet. No phone. No transportation. Only nature, silence, and a very simple way of life. The indigenous people live communally, dress simply, and depend on hunting and gathering. Coming from a city, everything felt unfamiliar. I spoke very little and understood even less. I felt out of place. Our missionary community consisted of three people: one Italian, one Spanish, and myself, Vietnamese. Despite their presence, I went through a difficult period. I became withdrawn. For about a month, I barely spoke to anyone. I worked constantly—taking care of animals, tending the nursery, doing manual labor. Many thought I would give up. But that was never my intention. Deep inside, I did not want to leave—I simply did not yet know how to belong. Starting Again from Within During that time of silence, I prayed a great deal. I asked God for light and guidance. I reread my notes and the journal I had written during my missionary training in Rome. Little by little, something began to change. The simplicity of the people helped me open up again. I found courage. I began truly to learn: the language, the gestures, the rhythm of life. I would draw objects in a notebook to remember words—even though I was not good at drawing! I celebrated Mass in Spanish and, in the villages, in the indigenous language. For my homilies, I memorized texts with the help of a local teacher, repeating them “like a parrot” until I began to understand them deeply. I traveled frequently between villages, on foot or by boat along the Amazon River. Some journeys lasted two or three weeks. Gradually, I gained the people’s trust and affection. Living with the Yanomami I spent seven years living among the Yanomami—years that I consider a grace. They live in the shapono, a large communal structure without divisions between families. They sleep in hammocks, share everything, and live in close relationship with nature. The men hunt, and the women gather. I discovered a rich and complex culture: full of beauty, yet also marked by challenges. There are early marriages and, among leaders, polygamy. However, their sense of fidelity and community is very strong. They have no written laws, but they carry a deep sense of respect and unity in their hearts. Their rituals—even funeral rites—express a profound vision of life. After cremation, the ashes are processed and shared in a sacred ritual, maintaining the presence of the deceased within the community. A Simple Life, Unique Experiences I lived without money, relying only on barter. It was a simple life, but a full one. I had experiences I will never forget: •being mistaken for a woman because of my long hair •witnessing a birth and a death during the same journey •being considered sterile and receiving a marriage proposal •taking part in deeply meaningful traditional rituals These moments have marked my life and my faith. What I Have Received After many years, I can say with certainty that God is present everywhere. Every culture—even those very different from our own—holds seeds of truth, beauty, and humanity. I remember a phrase by the Vietnamese musician Trịnh Công Sơn: “There is only the human condition and love; the condition is limited, but love is infinite.” This is what I have seen with my own eyes. I firmly believe that where there is love, there is no failure. To live this means being sincere, respecting cultures, walking alongside others, and doing good. When I look back on my experience, I feel that what I have given is very little. But what I have received is immense: the love of the people.