Every Day is a Party in Brazil

As with many Latin American cultures, "on time" is a relative term in Brazil. Following Mass last evening, we were instructed to arrive at the parish this morning at 7:45. The last of us arrived around 8:30. No worries. 

From the parish we traveled to the city park and made our way to a large pavilion already arranged for Holy Mass we were among the first placing us at the very front of a crowd that would eventually number around ten thousand. The groups just kept coming and coming and coming. Flags from Brazil, the USA, France, Venezuela, Colombia, and Angola were soon bouncing and swaying as a bone shaking bass beat sounded through the speakers. For about two hours the whole international group sang and danced and shouted. Small groups formed here and there as young Brazilian men kicked their soccer balls around. Angolans danced in tight circles. Americans jumped up and down. Amanda Julian was interviewed by a local television station. Then, the music from the stage ceased and a local brass band played traditional samba music.  The locals danced. Johnny and Marianne Hofer made a scene trying to do the same. 

Once it was finally time for Mass, nearly 100 priests vested to concelebrate. The Cardinal from Bogota seemed overwhelmed by the sheer unadulterated noise. The homilist reminded us that we are all called to be missionaries, in spite of our sins. After Mass the party recommended. The brass band played again, and upon finishing MK Amiotte asked the trumpeter to take a photo with her. She remarked that she also played the trumpet. He quickly insisted that she play a song. Her attempts to demure were rebuffed, so she played the only song she knew from memory, "The Star Spangled Banner". Before she knew it the whole Brazilian Band was playing our national anthem.  

In each of these instances, I am reminded of St. Paul's teaching, "In Christ there is no gentile or Jew, Freeman or slave, woman or man."  We are indeed one - one baptism, one Lord, one Faith, one God. I can't imagine why everyone doesn't want to be Catholic. 

Thoughts From the Pilgrims:

Mary Amiotte: We have been overwhelmed by the love and hospitality of the people here!

Logan Pochop: this is a very different place, but it is also an exciting place!

Theresa Kinyon: I love the people of Brazil! We have been shown the love of Christ in the most beautiful way! We couldn't feel more at home!

Marianne Hofer: Brazil has been so good! They are a partying people much like my own family! It has been a great pilgrimage so far and know of my prayers for you back home. Pray for us as well. Obrigada

There will be photos later when I get back to the apartment where I am staying. 

Mass and Other Adventures

The brilliance of Catholicism is that a Catholic can attend any Mass in the world and still feel as though he knows precisely what is happening at any given moment. This was mostly true this evening upon our return to the parish after a bit of site seeing. The Mass was lovely, and every effort was made to make the American guests feel welcome, even to the point of asking Fr. Sparks to preach as a local woman translated. She spent a great deal of time before Mass trying to learn the content of the homily so as to translate well.  Fr. Sparks told her to simply say, "Jesus loves you," if she couldn't translate what he said.  She resorted to this only once.  Following Mass we were assigned to our host families. Most people were assigned with one other American. A handful, myself included, are on our own. I am with a family of four. Most in this house speak at least some English. I am able to supplement with Spanish, so we can communicate easily. Daniel Lang and his companion Sean are in a home that speaks no English. I will be curious to hear how their evening went when we gather early tomorrow morning. The photos are from site seeing, the pre-Mass procession line-up, and the sorting ceremony.  Sorry they are blurry.  My phone doesn't zoom well.  More tomorrow when time allows. I am left to understand that we are celebrating Mass with the Cardinal from Bogota sometime tomorrow. 

Welcome to Brazil

WYD Rio is my fifth experience of this sort. In each of these, the pilgrims with whom I traveled have been hosted in the homes of local people for at least part of the time.  As a result of these stays, I have come to know the hospitality and generosity of Catholics and of Our Lord over and over. San Jose Dos Campos is no different. 

With promises of missing luggage to be delivered tomorrow, our group mounted a lovely, spacious, air conditioned bus. Leo, our guide from the travel company, joined us as well to translate and assure our safe arrival at our host parish. 

Leo is a German by birth and a natural guide. He offered a brief socio-economic history of Brazil and the city in which we are currently staying, and assured the young pilgrims that the young men and women of this country would be very excited to meet some Americans. Some interesting facts:

1) Brazil had an active slave trade until the 1880s. 

2)  Brazilians spend an astonishing amount of money as Disney Land each year, and four in five summer visitors to that site are Brazilian. 

3) Americans encouraged the aviation industry in this country as a way to stick it to the Pinko Commies during the Cold War. 

4) Brahman cattle appear to be the local breed of choice. 

The bus ride was nice, the hillside green, and the commentary helpful, but all of that quickly faded as we finally left the bus and were welcomed, quite literally, into the arms of our hosts at the Cathedral Parish. We were quickly ushered to a place to drop our bags, and then made a Rock Star entrance into the dining hall where locals and a group from California cheered and sang and danced. Then it was time to eat. Black beans and rice, chicken, some sort of steamed greens, and a lovely drink made of "lemon,sugar, and a little alcohol" we're the fare.  We ate ravenously. 

As the meal was winding down, the pastor of the parish asked the priests if we would care to go to his apartment for a shower and a nap. Few offers have ever made me so happy. A thoughtful deacon suggested that maybe our seminarian (Andrew Sullivan) would like to come too. The four of us eagerly handed the care of our flock over to the people of the parish, and we lit out.  

We have found many English speakers, though the parish priest is not among them.  Among the American priests, however, we are conversant in four languages besides English. Italian is the spoken tongue this afternoon. In that language we learned that the parish is the spiritual home to thirty thousand souls who are cared for by two priests and six deacons. For comparison's sake, that is the same population as our entire diocese. Thus we begin to see why Brazil needs world youth day. 

As it were, we are now all clean, shaved, and better rested. We go to eat again in about an hour. Until then, join us in thanking God for the generous people of St. Dismas Cathedral in San Jose Dos Campos. 

Safely Here

Our ten hour flight arrived safely in São Paulo, though sadly, not all of our luggage did. Four pilgrims are currently at the delta desk getting complimentary undergarments or something like that. The rest of us were entertained by tour guide Leo as we waited for them to make a lost luggage claim. The luggage will be delivered to San Jose dos Campos, where we will be staying, tomorrow sometime. 

San Jose, we are told is the center of Brazil's aerospace industry, producing planes, jet fuel, and the like. It is clean, modern, and deeply influenced by American culture. We are assured it is vey safe, and someone who speaks Spanish can make himself understood.  As soon as the last four get to the bus, we will be on our way to find out for ourselves. Until then . . .

P.S.  no pictures until I find wifi. It requires too much data to load them cellularly.

Coney Island

Today is one of the hottest days in years in New York City.  We discovered this fact when we left the terminal to await the arrival of a yellow bus to transport us to Coney Island. Fr. Christensen had arranged this side trip to pass our five hour layover at JFK. After a long wait in the heat (good practice for later in the trip) the bus finally arrived.  The trip from the airport to Coney Island is normally a twenty minute drive. It was more like forty-five today. That was plenty of time for me to arrive at the conclusion that the inventor of the school bus was a sadist. The odor of the bus, even with open windows, had developed a distinctly human odor befor we arrived at the beach. Forty minutes there afforded most time for a Coney Island Dog, or at least something to eat and drink.  We're now headed back to the airport, hoping that the lines at security are short, and that the seats on the plane are wide. God willing, the next post will be from Brazil. Keep praying for us. spirits remain high, and we are off to a great start 

All Aboard

We are Headed to NYC.  I am surreptitiously writing, trying to avoid catching the flight attendant's eye.  It took an hour and a half to check in, but they treated us, rather than common cattle, like very expensive livestock while clearing security. That is a definite improvement from the norm.  I'm crammed in a middle seat waiting to taxi.   More from New York. 

Safely in Denver

We have arrived safely if somewhat disheveled in Denver.  As I write we are eating pizza. In about an hour we will do some group building games and small group time, and we will conclude in prayer around ten. Mass comes early - the obscene hour of 6:30 am. Breakfast will follow, and then it's back on the us for the airport. I plan to write again before we depart JFK in New York.