Disappointment was something we figured we'd experience. We told the group over and over again not to get attached to any plans because nothing was certain. That proved to be true today. Even though we were warned to be disappointed, we weren't really prepared for it.
Originally the plan for the day was to wake up, go to Rio and spend the day on the beach, and then get over to the Cathedral by noon so that we could have front row seats for the arrival of the Pope at 4:00 pm. Richard and Father Chris were the only ones allowed to go pick up our credentials and packets (which were to be used for every single event, they had our meal and transportation passes, and everything). We thought that'd take about three hours.
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| The day-time view from our accommodations |
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| Another angle looking out from our accommodations |
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| Another view from our accommodations |
At first, we didn't have any information. Some people from other groups were upset with me that Richard and Father Chris went on without them. I guess they should have all stayed together. I don't know. But because nobody realized that I was temporarily the group leader, nobody came to inform me what was going on for a little while. And I didn't know who to ask.
Finally a lady told me the news, and she said that we were going to have mass and breakfast. That sounded like a good plan. So we sat around and waited for mass and breakfast. They gave us breakfast first. This is where my pickiness started to show to the group. Now, my experience has been that some people get very angry with my pickiness. The people who are the most angry are the people who have no business being upset by it. They didn't cook the food. But if I am at a restaurant and unwilling to try something new, but chose an old favorite, they get mad at me, almost offended actually. But food is not an adventure for me. There is so much food out there that I don't like, that I am unwilling to try new things frequently because it's very stressful for me. Very. Stressful. Some people enjoy it. I hate it. We are just different. I am not bad because I don't find new foods exciting. I know that, but not everyone does.
Well, our breakfast was one that should have been very easy to eat. We had juice that looked like lemonade, buttered bread, and chocolate cake. But that was a little misleading. One, because we were all quite hungry, and the amount of food was not going to be very filling. Two, because I HATE butter. I absolutely completely and totally hate butter. And, although the bread was fresh and wonderful, it literally had about half an inch thick of butter, all across it. I tried to scrap some of the butter off, but gagged when I tried to eat it (too much info?). I just couldn't swallow it. Even the rest of the group, most of whom like butter, said that there was too much butter on that bread. It would have been nice to butter our own bread. And third, because the "lemonade" was not lemonade. We discovered later that it was Cashew Apple Juice. It sounds like it would be sweet because it was apple, but it wasn't. It was just disgusting. I knew that I should drink it, but I couldn't finish it, even though it was in a tiny cup. But, at least the cake was delicious. It was just chocolate cake. Bill Cosby would have enjoyed this moment. Is cake a normal breakfast food there, or was it just something to give us to fill us up? I'm not really sure, but it was delicious and so I didn't care! I don't think that anybody else did, either.
After breakfast, we waited some more, and then had mass. I think that a lot of us were surprised that the mass was in English. The Psalm immediately struck me (I just tried to look up what the exact Psalm was for that day, and I think we did the wrong Psalm! Oops). It was about thirsting for God. I was physically very thirsty when this Psalm started. I hadn't had much to drink yet because I was still worried about the safety of the water. Rio hadn't really impressed me much, so I thought that their water wasn't necessarily as clean as people suggested it was. I was struck at the comparison I found with this Psalm to my situation - that just finding water that is drinkable is a challenge. I knew then that I would probably be thirsty for the rest of the time there, which was true! The thirst in my body was very similar to the thirst in my soul, but today the thirst in my soul would be quenched.
But it was also the feast day of Mary Magdalene. The priest, in his homily, spoke about her transformation between being depressed and fearful after Jesus died, and then later finding joy in her encounter with Him. She was transformed. Afterwards, I prayed for Jesus to help me love Him. I realize that I don't love Him like I should. I don't love Him like Mary Magdalene loved Him. I have asked Him over and over again to help me love Him more, but I became aware that it's not His job to make me love Him. He can't love Him for me. That doesn't make any sense. My prayer changed a lot for the rest of the mass, and I felt like I had started something new and good in my life.
We also prayed the Prayer of Saint Francis (Fact: Saint Francis did not write that prayer!) in song at mass. The part about asking to console instead of being consoled really struck me. How can I console during this pilgrimage? Everybody seemed a little disappointed this morning. Things were not as fun, exciting, spiritual, or fulfilling as it seemed they SHOULD be. Our suffering (the exhaustion specifically) seemed like it was for no good reason. I think that the group felt the same way. Even though we'd been gone for several days already at this point, it felt like we hadn't really begun yet. I was impatient, and I could feel that in the others as well. I needed to console them, and not be consoled. The big events would bring wonderful fruit with them, so it was my job to make sure that they didn't lose hope. I'm not sure, looking back, if I did that. I tried to make this day fun, but I can't decide if I succeeded.
It's amazing. We were in this tiny church, with almost no decoration. It was hot. And yet, God spoke to me there in a stronger way than at home. And it wasn't because the homily was particularly profound, entertaining, or different compared to than anything I get back at home. But being on pilgrimage made me more aware of the need to hear, and apply to my life, the things that were said. It wasn't the homily so much as the setting.
I tried really hard not to start making resolutions. I often do this on retreat. I go on retreat, and then say, "I'm going to pray a rosary twice a day, and go to daily mass, and pray all the time when I get back." But I often fail at those resolutions. I wanted to spend this time just falling in love with Christ. If I do, then those other things will come naturally, right? Some people say "fake it 'till you make it." Am I supposed to do those things to fall in love with Him, or am I supposed to fall in love with Him in order to want to do those things? I just don't know!
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| Waiting for some news |
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| Waiting |
I was really nervous about being alone with the teens in Niteroi. Richard and I had no way of communicating because his phone didn't work. I knew that I couldn't make the teens just stay in the church all day with nothing to do, but I also wanted to have a way to let Richard know where we went. I was also afraid of getting lost, losing someone, or getting into a situation that I didn't know how to get out of. I kind of hated this part. Luckily, our volunteers stayed with us, but I didn't know that they were going to. I predicted that it would be 8:00 before Richard and Father Chris got back, based on the talk about Rio and the "chaos" that the Pope caused there during the day. But I didn't know for sure.
We took the bus and walked right past the beach, which upset some people, and we ended up at the museum, which upset some people. They weren't excited about going in, but this was a famous museum, and since we had nothing else to do until 10:00 pm, I made them go inside. At first, I had no idea what I was looking at, and it was really uninteresting to me. I honestly had no idea how some of the stuff could be considered art. But then one of the teens told me that a tour was about to begin, so I joined the tour. They had an exhibit on Antoni Gaudi, a Catholic architect who is up for Sainthood. One of our teens had actually seen some of his buildings in Barcelona, and was really excited about the tour. I encourage you to look up Antoni Gaudi. He's a very interesting man. I was grateful to see this exhibit, even though a lot of the group could care less.
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| "Museu Contempora" or "Contemporary Art Museum" |
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| Gaudi quote on wall. Thanks, Andrea, for the pic. |
I ordered a pizza from "Mister Pizza." They cut it into really small bite sized pieces and gave me a fork. I thought that was a little strange. I ate it with a fork because that's what it looked like I was supposed to do. It was so good. I was really relieved to eat something familiar. I was so hungry. I also ordered a water in a bottle.
We gave the teens some time to shop after lunch, but not much. The mall was five floors tall. Christa, Andrea and I went to the top floor, just to see what was there. It was not very interesting. We did meet a guy named Rafael at the top floor. He was very nice. He just wanted to talk with us and welcome us to the country. He didn't know the word "Pope" though, even though his English was remarkably good.
We left the mall around 5:30 pm. We were told by all the locals to wear our backpacks on the front because the pickpocketing was so bad. They made a really big deal about it. We told them that we had locks on our bags, and they said it didn't matter, that pickpocketers could break through them. So we wore our backpacks on the front. We looked around and saw that the locals did it, too.
The bus ride home was hectic and crazy. The traffic was horrible, as you can imagine it is in most countries at 5:30 pm. We had to split into two groups because the buses were so packed, but luckily some volunteers stayed with both groups. The other group got back before ours. When we returned around 7:00, Richard and Father Chris had already arrived. They got there sometime between when the first group arrived and we did. I was very close in my prediction.
They were worn out, and I was worn out. It had been really stressful for me to be without them. They had apparently stood in line for six hours to get our group's credentials!
Father Chris was put to work immediately. He was asked to say mass for the people who didn't get mass in the morning with us. Then they had Adoration and rosary. We participated in the adoration and rosary. We prayed the joyful mysteries because it was Monday. I wasn't feeling very joyful, though. I was overwhelmed and exhausted. The question on my mind was how was I going to do this for nine more days?
On a typical retreat, we leave around 10:00 am in the morning on Friday and get home around 7:00 pm on Sunday. And we are completely worn out at that point. Well, we had officially been away from home for as long as a retreat. We had left around 10:00 am on Saturday and it was not 8:00 pm on Monday. I just didn't know how I could do this for so much longer. We hadn't stopped once. I hadn't had time to be alone or to do anything for myself in all that time. I had already been stretched out of my comfort zone. How could we keep up for so many more days?
They made us dinner, but it took a while to get to us. They gave us (more) buttered bread, some cookies and the BEST hot chocolate I've ever had in my life!!!!!! I wanted to drink a gallon of it! It was so good! We waited and the locals sang "If You're Happy and You Know It Clap Your Hands," "The Hokey Pokey," and a song about squishing cockroaches. They also showed me how they race each other doing this goose walk. They were hilarious when we could figure out what they were doing. Actually, they were hilarious when we couldn't figure out what they were doing. But my heart was heavy, and so it was really difficult.
Finally we ate lentil soup. It was green, thick, and weird. I ate it, though.
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| Lentil Soup |
We purposefully chose to stay in the "Simple Accommodations," and I was happy for that choice on this night. We got to see something that the people who stayed in hotels didn't get to see. Driving by, I might make assumptions about the kind of people who lived there. But on this night, after spending time watching them play games, sing songs, and run around like geese, I learned that my ideas of who they are was wrong. They are no different than me. I mean, we may sing different songs, and play different games, but we all sing, and we all play. We kept hearing locals talk about the dangers of their home. There are dangerous places, dangerous people, and those places and people are very well disguised sometimes. I couldn't help but wonder what it's like to live with that kind of fear day-in and day-out. American's who claim to have trust issues have no idea. These people can't even ask a stranger for directions if they are lost, because those directions could lead them to a life threatening situation. THAT's what it means to have trust issues! Although the United States is an imperfect place, I am thankful for it. Our police look for missing people. They search, and the people do, too. I know that after Jessica Ridgeway was abducted, the whole community joined together to find her. Jessica Ridgeway is just another story in Rio. The police have no say.
The power kept going out in our school once we got back. It was really annoying. Luckily I brought two different flash lights, one that had a lantern, and one to wear on my head. Those helped. Bed (or shall I say, my little mat and sleeping bag on the floor) was a wonderful thing. I was happy to sleep!
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