The Vicar of Religious Life and a member of the Council for the Minimas of Maria Inmaculada, Sister Eva Josefina, came to see me. She came all the way from Leon, which is an hour and a half away from here. It was an official visit. She said that they had misunderstood me and my intentions for asking for hospitality. They understood me to say that I wanted a place to live and use as a base while I would go visiting other communities. Perhaps due to the Superior General, Sister Patricia’s illness (very aggressive cancer) her wishes have changed.
After I explained to Sister Eva Josefina the purpose of my stay she said that I would not gain any experience living in a residence for the poor and abandoned elderly people. This is not a nursing home as such. It is an asylum for people who are left here by relatives who can no longer care for their relatives. They have about 70 residents.
Tomorrow I will go visit the Diocesan Vicar of Religious Life. Fr. Carlos Hernandez Talavera, CSsR might have other suggestions. I had been very ready to help with the physical therapy of the residents here. I went with Sister Ana Maria and bought four huge balls to play “catch” with the residents. She bought a “crawling baby” to have the women play with the doll.
I think God has a better surprise for me.
Mid-morning, Thursday, December 30, 2010
We had Mass at 7:00 a.m. and right after Communion I ran to the Vicar’s residence. He had told Sister Mari-Paz, the Director here, that he only had a small period if free time at 8:00 a.m. I waited until almost 9:00 a.m. when he arrived. He is a very nice gray-haired young man. He wore jeans and a nice jacket. He greeted me cordially and ushered me into a parlor. I had the “Project Mexico” folder with an extra outline of our purpose. He said he would read it and share it with the bishop. He told me to relax and remember that I have 3 months in which to accomplish anything worthwhile. He reminded me that most people are on Christmas break and that nothing will happen until around the second week of January.
I returned to the “asilo” all happy. I stopped at the bakery and at a fruit stand and got the Sisters some fresh stuff. I am losing more weight here.
My computer was finally set up. A young man came to get it running and in our conversation asked me if I would be willing to teach him some English. He needs it for his job as computer store manager. I am finally going to answer my emails.
God is so good. He answers prayers in such “odd” ways and times. I continue to lack trust in Him—that causes me to have bad tummy aches.
Tuesday, January 4, 2011
Arrival at Irapuato, Guanajuato
We loaded my two huge, heavy suitcases in a small taxi right in front of the Casa Central in Zacatecas. I was glad that the Sisters had left early in the morning for their first day of congress talks at the Colegio del Centro in another part of Zacatecas. Earlier I had written a note on the board saying “Good-bye” to them all. It was hard. I was so nervous about starting anew in another town that there was hardly room available in my heart to experience the sadness about leaving my good Sister friends in Zacatecas who had grown fond of me and me of them.
A few days before the arrival of many Sisters from the different missions, we had all been put to work preparing the bedrooms: washing bedspreads, dusting, mopping, and putting clean towels, etc. in each room. There are many rooms in this house. Some have up to six beds but all have a full bathroom in each room. Most Sisters did not know who I was but they would greet me with a hug and kisses on both cheeks and a Christmas greeting.
I left the house at 11:15 for “la Central de Camiones”, bus station. My bus was scheduled to leave at noon. At 1:15 p.m. we finally boarded. I was planning to arrive in Irapuato (“Ira” for short) at 5:00 p.m. but I arrived at 7:30 p.m. The taxi from the bus station to the Casa Hogar-La Paz cost me $3.50 (35.00 pesos). The house was completely dark but one of the street gates was still open. No light at the front door but I found the door bell—switches are usually located high up the door frame. I rang and rang. Nothing. There was a man sitting in the dark on a wooden box near the gate and I asked him if he knew anything about the Sisters who ran the nursing home. He said, “Well, I know that they lock the gate at night. The gate is still open so they must still be up.” That gave me hope. I rang again and waited. Finally, an elderly Sister opened a little window on the door. I told her who I was and she said, “We waited for you all day.” I said, “Here I am!”
The Sisters were all in their dining room having dinner. There are 6 of them: Mari-Paz, the Director; Ana Maria and Aurelia, heads of the women’s wings, both young; Edith and Emily, both elderly; and Silvia, middle age, head of the men’s wings. They seem very nice. They wear a white dress with a full length white apron, blue sweater, white veil and white shoes. They are nurses, but the congregation has Sisters in schools and in parish work, too. The name of their congregation: “Hermanas Minimas de Maria Inmaculada”. They are celebrating their 125th anniversary this year. They have around 300 members scattered all over Mexico and Central & South America.
After a glass of water I was ushered to my bedroom. The room is right near the men’s wing. They keep the women completed separated from the men’s area. They even eat in separate dining rooms. My room is nice. It has a bed and a piece of furniture which is like a closet. Most of the room’s space is taken up by an enclosed room which contains a sink, a toilet and a shower head. I showered and the water splashed on the toilet and the sink. Oh, well! I keep the toilet paper outside the area. I am ever so grateful for my down pillow and blanket. The pillow on the bed was a huge, hard hunk of matted cotton. There was small blanket, too. I would have frozen.
Someone made a loud banging noise several times during the night. It was such a loud noise that it registered but I was so-o-o tired that I did not care. I asked about it this morning and they told me that it must have been one of the residents. No big deal. All rooms open to a patio with rose bushes which have all been trimmed for the winter and many palm trees and other exotic plants. Early this morning the hired help was mopping the corridor tiles. No unpleasant smells anywhere! Thank God.
I went to chapel for Mass on the Feast of the Holy Innocents and all the Sisters and residents sat for over an hour and waited for the priest who never showed up. The chapel is huge. The residents are invited to attend daily Mass. The Sisters pray Lauds at 6:00 a.m. followed by Mass at 7:00 a.m. I prayed to my heart’s delight but one lady kept saying in a loud voice, “Someone, please, get me out of here!” It was cold in chapel. The wheelchair residents are all bundled up and brought in to the front. The chapel is decorated with lighted Christmas deer and a crèche with Louisiana moss hanging everywhere. The director told me not to leave my books in chapel because the residents will take them.
The residents eat first and then the Sisters. The same food is brought to the Sisters in their dining room. I think you would all absolutely die if I invited you to eat in the Sisters’ dining room. When we turn the lights on, the cockroaches…all sizes and shapes scramble for hiding places. They are on the stove, inside the refrigerator—everywhere! The Sisters says that they’ve given up trying to fumigate them. The place is clean but the animals continue. Needless to say, I am eating very little.
The residents had a big bowl of beans freshly boiled, scrambled eggs, hot tortillas, a glass of orange juice, cold cereal and papaya and a cup of hot “café de la olla” which is coffee boiled in cinnamon water, with milk and sugar. Some women had to be fed. I helped feed some of them but I am now going to wait and ask the director first. The helpers are looking at me funny. They have a system. The help is mainly young girls who look about 15 but are probably 20 years old.
This morning I opened the door and went out the gate to find a store. There on the sidewalk were hundreds of baskets full of strawberries. I could not believe my eyes. Irapuato is the capital of strawberries in Mexico. I quickly took my camera and asked a man if I could take his picture. He said yes and asked me where this picture would end up. I told him I would take it to Oregon, another strawberry growing area. He said, “Take me instead of my picture.”
I left all my clothes hangers in Zacatecas so I headed to the market to buy new ones. They had 10 hangers for $2. I also bought laundry detergent & softener. I bought an extension cord. I wanted to get a mirror (no mirrors anywhere here!), a small lamp (they have sheer curtains in my room and with a big ceiling light I think people can see from the patio) but could not find those things in the market. I bought a small plastic stool to use as a bed side table. But,…in this market one can find fresh un-refrigerated meat and raw cut up chickens and vegetables but…it’s not a Wal-Mart like in Zacatecas. The odor can knock you over. I am not allowing those things to bother me. However, I was not able to connect to Internet either and that does bother me. Sister Aurelia and I could not get my computer configured to their modem.
It is nearly six. The Sisters gather in chapel at 6:00 p.m. and pray Vespers at 7:00 p.m. followed by dinner. At 8:00 p.m. they return to chapel to pray Compline and after that they retire. They sure pray together a lot here in Mexico! They have two long periods of meditation. So, their long 16 hr. days are from 5 a.m. until 9 p.m. Poor Sisters! These girls have no time for visitors like me. I feel sorry for them. Sister Ana Maria asked me to run to the drugstore yesterday where she went to “re-load” her telephone. They buy minutes…100 pesos gave her 400 minutes…that is $10. She is Americanized because she has lived in Arizona where they have a house of their Sisters. Anyway, all errands are “run here” or “run there”. I don’t see a car anywhere on their grounds.
Tomorrow the director will speak with me tomorrow to let me know what my “job” will be here.
Sunday, December 19, 2010
My visit with the Oria-Quinzaños Family
For the feast of Our Lady of Guadalupe I stayed with Jorge & Gabriela Oria-Quinzaños in Mexico City from December 8th to the 15th.
The bus fare for an 8 hour ticket was 45 USD. I left Zacatecas at 11:30 p.m. and arrived in Mexico City at 7:00 a.m. I had two seats to myself but slept rather comfortably. The bus driver stopped at about 4 or 5 check points to pay a toll they also checked his blood pressure and tested his reflexes at some of the stops. No one was allowed to get off the bus.
I bought a ticket for the taxi inside the bus station in Mexico City. That way the driver has no money. However, I got a real bad guy! I had a “Map Quest” guide in case he got off the track. I kept watching the signs. The Oria-Quinzaños live in a gated community with at least two security check points before getting to their house.
Gabriela showed me to my room and I showered and rested. I had a snack and dinner was served around 9:00 p.m. Their high school son, Patrick, and I stayed home when the parents went to work. He had to study for mid-terms. I used the time of rest as a retreat. It was wonderful.
They have a huge house with a big park in their backyard. They have tons of toys for their grand children. They made a trampoline with a sunken hole underneath so that the trampoline is on the ground level and the children cannot fall off. They have bikes, little cars, an entire jungle gym thing with a slide and everything. They have a soccer field. On a second level of their park they have a full size tennis court. They had a pool but it was removed and the hole covered up. There are like three gardeners who daily rake all the leaves and water their lawns.
These folks both work hard. Jorge is an investor and realtor. Gabby is a professor of post-graduate courses on family life at University Anahuac, a Catholic university run by the Legionaries of Christ. She gave me a tour and I found their name on a huge rock outside the university chapel. Gabby also helps her daughter, Fernanda, with street girls in rehab. Fernanda has five other siblings who are all professional people—well educated. Gabriela was a boarding student at St. Mary’s along with her sister, Elena, when they were young girls.
On Friday, December 10th I left to go stay at the Sisters’ convent which is very close to the Basilica of Our Lady of Guadalupe. The Sisters are the same community as the ones in Zacatecas. They welcomed me warmly. Ten Sisters live and work in a school about two blocks from the convent. This is winter time and no one has heaters. Oh, how I suffered. It was really 34 ° in my room. I wrapped my head in a blanket that Gabby had packed for me to take to the basilica. I had 3 heavy blankets on top and socks on my feet. I prayed and fell asleep. I don’t think I turned all night. No one here…not even the rich…have box springs to their mattresses. The beds are almost always hard.
On Saturday around 8:30 p.m. we started walking the packed streets toward the basilica. Most streets were blocked. We had tickets to enter the chapels above the main floor of the church—only one problem—how to get there past all these people and into the chapel.
After the two days of attending the services I found out that over the several days of celebrations, there had been over 5 million people who had visited the basilica! No wonder! People came from far and near in Mexico and many, many people came from other countries as well.
The Mañanitas (early dawn serenade for Our Lady) last 3 hours. There are professional musicians who come and donate their talented voices in song to Our Lady. Many of the performers dressed in their finest. Some singers were not professionals. Some were adults, some children; some sang, others recited verses. All faced the image of Our Lady and addressed Her only.
There is a midnight Mass which is celebrated with all the seminarians from Mexico who can attend. We, older Sisters, left at the beginning of Mass. There are pilgrims sleeping on the sidewalks everywhere. How the city can take the extra crowds, I’ll never understand!
The next morning we went to Mass at the parish church across the street from the convent. We ate breakfast and at 9:00 a.m. left to attend the “Mass of the Roses”. The roses are donated by the Spanish Consulate or something. The Spaniards say that there are no “rosas de Castilla” in Mexico so they must have come from Spain. Anyway, roses are given to the people who attend that Mass. There are huge baskets filled with roses in honor of Our Lady. We again had tickets for the upstairs chapel. The plaza, which is almost the size of the plaza in the Vatican, already was packed with native dancers and their drums. They were already perspiring in the hot sun. How amazing that at night it is freezing cold and as soon as the sun comes out, it is hot. Some dancers wear ornate costumes and others have very simple outfits. The guys’ head feathers cover huge areas while their bodies are barely covered.
The Mass lasted a long time but it was beautifully celebrated. Flowers are donated. These flowers come and come from all over. The sacristans have to keep putting the flowers in high piles on the sides of the altar while pilgrims file by to get a glimpse of Our Lady. The ushers keep the lines moving. It is a miracle how so many people come just to get a few seconds in the presence of such an awesome Lady!
It never fails. I learn something new about our Lady’s image every single time. I have learned so little about what this image meant to the Indians. This time I learned that our Lady’s hands are different. One hand is slim and light color…the Europeans. The other is curved, short and dark…the Indians. Our Lady did more to evangelize and unite the two cultures than we have ever been able to do ourselves. Our Lady’s knee is up a bit. The images of the European statues and paintings showed our Lady standing straight. Our Lady of Guadalupe is “dancing” as Her Indians would when they worshipped their gods. Of course, I had heard about the position of the stars on her veil but not the way the historians explained on the “Discovery Channel” on TV on the 12th of December. She is still teaching all of us to love Her and to learn to love Her Son as She loves Him.
On the following day I returned to the Oria-Quinzaños family. I was invited to a banquet dinner at the University of Anahuac. I was Gabriela’s “spouse” as Jorge was working. The dinner was a 5-star affair. We attended Mass first and we knelt and prayed our Rosary after Mass. The Legionaries of Christ (Regnum Christi) own the university.
After the almost 4 hour lunch, we went home and set up Skype in Gabriela’s computer. Patrick is constantly on his computer filling out his exam “charts” or guides that they get from their professors to help them prepare for their exams. Their last two years of high school are really like the first two years of college. Their courses are high level math and science plus they must pass a foreign language test. Patrick knows both English and Spanish. His English test was on five or six American literature authors. Very difficult!
Gabriela arranged to have a “Posada” at her house for all the grandkids. They hung a piñata on a tree outside and after our 3:00 p.m. lunch had the children hit it. Patrick finally had to break it. But before they could break the piñata I was “hired” to tell the Christmas story to the children. I had them mesmerized with all the sounds and drama of Mary and Joseph and the Little Baby. I interjected the story with some carols in English: Silent Night and Little Drummer Boy. There was a boy around 9 years old (a grandson of Gabriela) who claimed he was an atheist and asked if we could please get going with the piñata! He must be a very disturbed little fellow or he is merely very smart or very hyperactive and can’t stand himself! Sad!
I arrived back in Zacatecas around 7:00 p.m. at the bus station and had a Skype appointment with my Sisters back in the USA at 8:00 p.m. I made it! We spoke with each other and it was wonderful. After our visit I went downstairs and the Sisters here told me that they were very happy to have me back “home”. The Christmas tree is up in the atrium. The chapel is all decorated beautifully. There was a gift for me in honor of Our Lady of Guadalupe: two thermal long-sleeve shirts. They will come in very handy!
I will be leaving on December 27th. I have not purchased my bus tickets but I will do so soon. I am going to miss these Sisters. I hope the Irapuato Sisters are fun to get to know and live with them.
Saturday, November 27, 2010
WE HAVE ONLY JUST BEGUN
Monsignor Antonio Soto, Vicar of Religious Life for the Dioceses, called and set up an appointment with me for the day before Thanksgiving Day. I had been waiting for this opportunity for two months.
Mons. Soto listened to me attentively as I explained to him the purpose of my visit and our Community Project. To show me that he had "done his homework" he shared with me all the papers printed out that I had emailed him earlier. I went ready with a second copy of everything...including a copy of our Constitutions. He said that the priests of the Presbyteral Council would be meeting with the bishop the next day and that he would bring our SSMO Project up for discussion and opinions.
He was pleased with our efforts so far. His idea, once the bishop gives his consent, would be to have two of us Sisters come...and bring three or four Associates...to live and work together in the area of addressing the spiritual needs of women and children who have been left behind by the husbands and fathers who have immigrated to the USA. He felt that our Charism would be wonderful and bring new life to the small "colonias" (neighborhoods) where there are great numbers of abandoned families.
I shared with him a little bit of our community history and he told me that he had visited our web site and read our Constitutions. He said, "I see that you are willing to depend totally on God and that no work is too difficult for your community."
He realized that thus far in Mexico I had had experience in a private school. Next I would to be with the Sisters of Mary Immaculate in Irapuato, Guanajuato whose ministry is mainly in the field of geriatrics. He asked where I would be for the third ministry. I told him that I was not sure. He suggested I return to the south of Zacatecas where I might help with pastoral work in the "colonias" so that I would have a better or more complete picture to share with our Sisters in Oregon. He would try to find "hospedaje" (hospitality) for me with other religious.
Mons. Soto suggested he and I visit the priest in charge of the Diocesan Immigration Office and talk to him about our Project. He would like for us, Sisters, to write the purpose, the objective, the method and the evaluation tools for this Project in a very clear manner. He said he would like to see our Sisters work not in any particular parish but in a larger diocesan-wide area. He sounded very positive and said that he would be in communication with me. His office is within walking distance from our house, but I have only one month left in this dioceses.
We have only just begun. Everything moves so very slowly!
Mons. Soto listened to me attentively as I explained to him the purpose of my visit and our Community Project. To show me that he had "done his homework" he shared with me all the papers printed out that I had emailed him earlier. I went ready with a second copy of everything...including a copy of our Constitutions. He said that the priests of the Presbyteral Council would be meeting with the bishop the next day and that he would bring our SSMO Project up for discussion and opinions.
He was pleased with our efforts so far. His idea, once the bishop gives his consent, would be to have two of us Sisters come...and bring three or four Associates...to live and work together in the area of addressing the spiritual needs of women and children who have been left behind by the husbands and fathers who have immigrated to the USA. He felt that our Charism would be wonderful and bring new life to the small "colonias" (neighborhoods) where there are great numbers of abandoned families.
I shared with him a little bit of our community history and he told me that he had visited our web site and read our Constitutions. He said, "I see that you are willing to depend totally on God and that no work is too difficult for your community."
He realized that thus far in Mexico I had had experience in a private school. Next I would to be with the Sisters of Mary Immaculate in Irapuato, Guanajuato whose ministry is mainly in the field of geriatrics. He asked where I would be for the third ministry. I told him that I was not sure. He suggested I return to the south of Zacatecas where I might help with pastoral work in the "colonias" so that I would have a better or more complete picture to share with our Sisters in Oregon. He would try to find "hospedaje" (hospitality) for me with other religious.
Mons. Soto suggested he and I visit the priest in charge of the Diocesan Immigration Office and talk to him about our Project. He would like for us, Sisters, to write the purpose, the objective, the method and the evaluation tools for this Project in a very clear manner. He said he would like to see our Sisters work not in any particular parish but in a larger diocesan-wide area. He sounded very positive and said that he would be in communication with me. His office is within walking distance from our house, but I have only one month left in this dioceses.
We have only just begun. Everything moves so very slowly!
Friday, November 19, 2010
Convent Life
I’ve settled into a routine of rising at 5:00 a.m. Monday through Friday. On Saturdays we all rise for Lauds at 8:00 a.m. and on Sundays it is “free”. During the week, in the convent chapel, we celebrate a combination of Lauds and Mass together. On weekends we attend Mass at our local parish. Our Cathedral of the Assumption and our parish church, Santo Domingo, are both within walking distance. Because Mass is offered on Sundays—some churches offer Mass every hour on the hour—we often hear bells ringing from 6:30 a.m. until 6:30 p.m. I like the bells.
Our convent kitchen is the heart of the house. Sisters Lupita and Conchita are two of our cooks. They have 3 lay people who help with the washing of pots and pans, etc. These ladies sometimes call me “Sister Juanie”. I think they think they are calling me an English name. Our meals are good but I have not adjusted to eating meat, vegetables and beans in the morning at 6:45 a.m. The noon meal is served from 2:45 to 3:45 as the Sisters arrive at different times from their different work sites. It is a nice meal: rice, beans, meat, salad and always fresh squeezed juice to drink. They don’t always serve desserts. Fruit is always available. The last meal is after Vespers around 7:45 p.m. That meal is not a meal really. We have a piece of Mexican bread, a piece of fruit and a cup of tea made from lemon grass or cinnamon or pieces of fruits.
Sometimes many Sisters come from some of the 40-plus mission houses where the Sisters work and they stay at the Casa Central or Motherhouse. There are enough bedrooms—some have 5 or 6 beds in them. Each bedroom has a shower and bathroom. I sleep in a private room with a bathroom and sitting area. There are NO heaters in the entire house! I think I can see my breath when I get up. It makes me think of my Dad when we were young and lived in Texas. The winters were bad. Dad would get up around 4 or 5 to light the butane gas heaters so that the un-insulated house would warm up before we would get up. I now get up and start the shower so that the steam from the warm water will heat up my room. I say to myself, “I’ll do this for you, Jesus, and only for You.”
The house is full of winding staircases—like the inside of a spiral sea shell. I don’t run down the stairs. I walk gingerly because the tile is slick and dangerous. The reception room is opened very early in the morning by a ninety some year old Sister Teresa. She and Sister Mayra, a young junior Sister, take care of the door and phones all day long. The house is wired for answering the door. They view the person outside the door via a small camera and they push a button to open the door. They have phones on every wing of the house but sometimes no one answers to go summon a Sister. It can be very frustrating.
We walk everywhere—to church, to the store, to go get a haircut—everywhere! Every day seven of us ride in a white van to get to school, however. The Sisters own about 4 cars for different purposes. We were just told not to use the private cars if possible. There is great danger of drug lords stopping big vans, trucks, etc. and asking the people to vacate the vehicle and they steal it and everything in it. They sell it or use it for the drug trade. Many times bad things can happen to people who might be involved or at the wrong time of the night or driving alone, etc. I don’t go anywhere by myself or at night. I feel very safe.
I ended up teaching English to two Sisters only. I started with about 6 Sisters but they get very discouraged and frustrated. They want to learn English in a few days. Sister Teresita needs to learn as she will be assigned to work in Fresno, CA. The other, Sister Mayra, is young and she was told she had to learn English for later use.
Our convent kitchen is the heart of the house. Sisters Lupita and Conchita are two of our cooks. They have 3 lay people who help with the washing of pots and pans, etc. These ladies sometimes call me “Sister Juanie”. I think they think they are calling me an English name. Our meals are good but I have not adjusted to eating meat, vegetables and beans in the morning at 6:45 a.m. The noon meal is served from 2:45 to 3:45 as the Sisters arrive at different times from their different work sites. It is a nice meal: rice, beans, meat, salad and always fresh squeezed juice to drink. They don’t always serve desserts. Fruit is always available. The last meal is after Vespers around 7:45 p.m. That meal is not a meal really. We have a piece of Mexican bread, a piece of fruit and a cup of tea made from lemon grass or cinnamon or pieces of fruits.
Sometimes many Sisters come from some of the 40-plus mission houses where the Sisters work and they stay at the Casa Central or Motherhouse. There are enough bedrooms—some have 5 or 6 beds in them. Each bedroom has a shower and bathroom. I sleep in a private room with a bathroom and sitting area. There are NO heaters in the entire house! I think I can see my breath when I get up. It makes me think of my Dad when we were young and lived in Texas. The winters were bad. Dad would get up around 4 or 5 to light the butane gas heaters so that the un-insulated house would warm up before we would get up. I now get up and start the shower so that the steam from the warm water will heat up my room. I say to myself, “I’ll do this for you, Jesus, and only for You.”
The house is full of winding staircases—like the inside of a spiral sea shell. I don’t run down the stairs. I walk gingerly because the tile is slick and dangerous. The reception room is opened very early in the morning by a ninety some year old Sister Teresa. She and Sister Mayra, a young junior Sister, take care of the door and phones all day long. The house is wired for answering the door. They view the person outside the door via a small camera and they push a button to open the door. They have phones on every wing of the house but sometimes no one answers to go summon a Sister. It can be very frustrating.
We walk everywhere—to church, to the store, to go get a haircut—everywhere! Every day seven of us ride in a white van to get to school, however. The Sisters own about 4 cars for different purposes. We were just told not to use the private cars if possible. There is great danger of drug lords stopping big vans, trucks, etc. and asking the people to vacate the vehicle and they steal it and everything in it. They sell it or use it for the drug trade. Many times bad things can happen to people who might be involved or at the wrong time of the night or driving alone, etc. I don’t go anywhere by myself or at night. I feel very safe.
I ended up teaching English to two Sisters only. I started with about 6 Sisters but they get very discouraged and frustrated. They want to learn English in a few days. Sister Teresita needs to learn as she will be assigned to work in Fresno, CA. The other, Sister Mayra, is young and she was told she had to learn English for later use.
The School Children of Zacatecas
The children who arrive early at school have discovered the games on my ipod and gather around me to ask me if they can play the games. I’ve noticed that they praise each other readily and are willing to take turns. I think our U.S. children sometimes have and want more. These students do not come from poor families. Their parents are mostly professionals.
Sister Karla, a young religious, works as Campus Minister and arranges one-day retreats twice a year for each class of both primary and secondary schools. The primary students, in 6-A, 6-B and 6-C each have their own day. She offers a full-day retreat for secondary students. Theirs is on a Saturday.
I mention this because the students seem very capable of integrating their faith, morals and values into their daily life. During the retreat the students open a letter from their parents. Each couple is required to send a letter on their child’s retreat day. Some parents relate their story from the time of their engagement, to their marriage, to the conception of the child. The one letter I heard was very beautiful. It had to have impressed their own child. Love poured out from every line. Each student reads his or her letter in private. Then they read it in their small group and then the students choose the letter that says what each feels their parents would have said to them, too.
There are always the “poor”, undisciplined and not-so-well behaved students, and they seem to have been placed in the same classroom, but mostly the students are very courteous and nice. They would never pass by an adult without the proper greeting…morning, noon or after school. I love that!
The school sure celebrates each patriotic feast. Presently the students are preparing a huge “desfile”…marches, songs, speeches, etc. for the anniversary of the Revolution in Mexico. (I am hoping to attach photos here) They are very--extremely—patriotic, even as the country suffers the dangers of terrorism and terror from the drug lords taking over their cities. The rituals of the colors of the flag are carried out every Monday morning and these rituals are very dramatic and solemn.
The students who carry the flag wear white gloves and march like soldiers—goose step and all. They gather in a huge (it can take 300-400 students) court yard and stand in silent attention with each teacher at the head of their class. The students sing their national anthem and salute the flag with their hand placed on their chest – their hand is palm down parallel to the ground, with elbow lifted in a perfect line. They also recite a promise to be faithful to their country and to the Church under the patronage of Our Lady of Guadalupe. The principal greets them saying, “Praised be Jesus Christ” and the students respond in unison, “Now and forever. Amen.”
Sunday, November 7, 2010
Different but beautiful
Sunday, November 07, 2010
It is 4:45 am and I am awake. Today I could sleep in until 8:00 but my body is so accustomed to getting up at 5:00 that I am wide awake. Oh, well. I am listening to the radio and it is featuring music that my Dad would listen to: marches and patriotic songs. He would keep rhythm with his fingers on the arm of the couch. I miss my Dad! Glad many of my nephews and nieces tend to be musicians.
Yesterday I accompanied Sister Patty to a nearby town to get her haircut. We walked a long distance to get to bus #14 that took us to Guadalupe—the Sisters did their novitiate there and they tend to go back to the familiar. As I walked I realized how very different Mexico is from the USA. The sidewalks are mostly broken, the fumes of the hundreds of buses and taxis is tremendous. The noise level is deafening. The women are carrying wrapped babies and packages and poor people are sitting by the entrances of stores staring into space just waiting. And, everyone else is walking—walking fast to get somewhere! There are many people selling whatever they can sell: plastic flowers, fruit juices, balloons, cotton candy in plastic bags all stuck on a tall stick, ice cream on a cart where a container sits wrapped in a gunny sack with dry ice or something. And, I walk fast and I belong to this menagerie of human beings.
I commented to Sister Patty that I didn’t know if I would be ready to live here permanently and she laughed. She said that she had lived in Denver and in Phoenix and she would not be happy there either. She said that to her it felt cold, uncaring and very isolated. She took me by the arm and led me into the beauty shop…a tiny space cramped full of dusty bottles, old chairs, a worn out sink and cut hair scattered on the floor from former clients probably from the day before. But the way the lady greeted and welcomed us, the room filled with laughter and joy. She did an excellent job of cutting her hair and did it in a few minutes. I quickly forgot the poverty and unclean area. The charge: 20 pesos = $2 USD.
Today is “Recollection Sunday”—a day of retreat. Once a month the Sisters have the opportunity for the Sacrament of Reconciliation and recollection to reflect on the month’s work and growth in spirituality. They do it at the beginning of the month, we, at St. Mary’s, do it at the end of the month. There will be a speaker to deliver a talk on the theme of the day. We can go to Mass in the nearby parishes and our meals will be in silence.
The weather has been rather chilly. During the night it gets down into the 20’s but during the day it goes up into the 60’s. I hung my laundry on lines located on the roof top—they have washers but no dryers. It is rare that anyone has a dryer. They also turn their water heaters off during the day and only turn them on at night for our morning showers. That seems to be a common practice. The fuel is gas so gas would be wasted if the water heater was on all day. Therefore, dishes are washed by hand in cold water, using laundry soap. Each Sister washes, dries and returns her own dishes to her place at table ready for the next meal. There is no hot water for laundering clothes either. When we wash a small amount of clothes we use the “wash boards”—slabs of concrete which have playing marbles imbedded into the cement which helps scrub the clothes. Pretty nice actually!
The town’s plaza has music and fireworks almost nightly and even during the day sometimes. Music is in the air they breathe. There is no city ordinance for noise level. The church bells toll starting at 6:00 am and they toll it this way: first bell is to let you know there is Mass, second bell is to let you know that you need to get going…walking, of course, since there is a church at every corner; the third bell is to let you know that Mass is starting. You can tell which bell it is as they ring a single chime, a double or a triple after each long tolling. Ah, then there is the public announcer who just has to get a message out to the public but didn’t get it in the newspaper. A person in a car with a huge bull horn delivers his message over and over as he or she drives through town.
Restaurants dot the streets. They are mostly the size of the beauty shop I just mentioned. They are very small and sometimes have no way of getting water into the business so they use disposable wear. How they wash their pots and pans is another mystery. I often realize that Zacatecas is saturated with businesses and people and that there could not possibly be enough room to build another building. The residents claim that that is true. The stone streets are narrow and cramped full of parked cars, and yet buses and people must get through. There are police personnel on the streets but often they can do nothing but wave their arms trying to move traffic, to no avail. Everyone starts to use their horns but again, to no avail. Zacatecas is mostly rock—mountains of rock! The buildings are made of masonry, bricks or stones covered with stucco sitting on top of rock ground on a steep hill. This town remains me of Astoria. One is either climbing up the hill or going down the hill.
I love Zacatecas. I really could live here—for a year easily!
It is 4:45 am and I am awake. Today I could sleep in until 8:00 but my body is so accustomed to getting up at 5:00 that I am wide awake. Oh, well. I am listening to the radio and it is featuring music that my Dad would listen to: marches and patriotic songs. He would keep rhythm with his fingers on the arm of the couch. I miss my Dad! Glad many of my nephews and nieces tend to be musicians.
Yesterday I accompanied Sister Patty to a nearby town to get her haircut. We walked a long distance to get to bus #14 that took us to Guadalupe—the Sisters did their novitiate there and they tend to go back to the familiar. As I walked I realized how very different Mexico is from the USA. The sidewalks are mostly broken, the fumes of the hundreds of buses and taxis is tremendous. The noise level is deafening. The women are carrying wrapped babies and packages and poor people are sitting by the entrances of stores staring into space just waiting. And, everyone else is walking—walking fast to get somewhere! There are many people selling whatever they can sell: plastic flowers, fruit juices, balloons, cotton candy in plastic bags all stuck on a tall stick, ice cream on a cart where a container sits wrapped in a gunny sack with dry ice or something. And, I walk fast and I belong to this menagerie of human beings.
I commented to Sister Patty that I didn’t know if I would be ready to live here permanently and she laughed. She said that she had lived in Denver and in Phoenix and she would not be happy there either. She said that to her it felt cold, uncaring and very isolated. She took me by the arm and led me into the beauty shop…a tiny space cramped full of dusty bottles, old chairs, a worn out sink and cut hair scattered on the floor from former clients probably from the day before. But the way the lady greeted and welcomed us, the room filled with laughter and joy. She did an excellent job of cutting her hair and did it in a few minutes. I quickly forgot the poverty and unclean area. The charge: 20 pesos = $2 USD.
Today is “Recollection Sunday”—a day of retreat. Once a month the Sisters have the opportunity for the Sacrament of Reconciliation and recollection to reflect on the month’s work and growth in spirituality. They do it at the beginning of the month, we, at St. Mary’s, do it at the end of the month. There will be a speaker to deliver a talk on the theme of the day. We can go to Mass in the nearby parishes and our meals will be in silence.
The weather has been rather chilly. During the night it gets down into the 20’s but during the day it goes up into the 60’s. I hung my laundry on lines located on the roof top—they have washers but no dryers. It is rare that anyone has a dryer. They also turn their water heaters off during the day and only turn them on at night for our morning showers. That seems to be a common practice. The fuel is gas so gas would be wasted if the water heater was on all day. Therefore, dishes are washed by hand in cold water, using laundry soap. Each Sister washes, dries and returns her own dishes to her place at table ready for the next meal. There is no hot water for laundering clothes either. When we wash a small amount of clothes we use the “wash boards”—slabs of concrete which have playing marbles imbedded into the cement which helps scrub the clothes. Pretty nice actually!
The town’s plaza has music and fireworks almost nightly and even during the day sometimes. Music is in the air they breathe. There is no city ordinance for noise level. The church bells toll starting at 6:00 am and they toll it this way: first bell is to let you know there is Mass, second bell is to let you know that you need to get going…walking, of course, since there is a church at every corner; the third bell is to let you know that Mass is starting. You can tell which bell it is as they ring a single chime, a double or a triple after each long tolling. Ah, then there is the public announcer who just has to get a message out to the public but didn’t get it in the newspaper. A person in a car with a huge bull horn delivers his message over and over as he or she drives through town.
Restaurants dot the streets. They are mostly the size of the beauty shop I just mentioned. They are very small and sometimes have no way of getting water into the business so they use disposable wear. How they wash their pots and pans is another mystery. I often realize that Zacatecas is saturated with businesses and people and that there could not possibly be enough room to build another building. The residents claim that that is true. The stone streets are narrow and cramped full of parked cars, and yet buses and people must get through. There are police personnel on the streets but often they can do nothing but wave their arms trying to move traffic, to no avail. Everyone starts to use their horns but again, to no avail. Zacatecas is mostly rock—mountains of rock! The buildings are made of masonry, bricks or stones covered with stucco sitting on top of rock ground on a steep hill. This town remains me of Astoria. One is either climbing up the hill or going down the hill.
I love Zacatecas. I really could live here—for a year easily!
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