Hurricanes and Garifuna Liturgy

Praise God... I just found out that last year when a hurricane went by Belize rumour circulated at Franciscan University that all of us were washed out to sea or something (Imagine... rumours at Francisan. Unheard of.) Now, not that you would have known this from watching the weather channel, who apparently has never heard of "Belize" because they didn't even see the need to label the country on their map!!!!! (not like we're bitter here. Just living in a country that the world doesn't think exists)... Anyways, Hurricane Wilma came dangerously close to wobbling over La Isla Bonita and praise God, we were spared. It came so close, in fact, that for the first time in my life I actually evacuated from a storm (no one who knows my family would believe this move). I have to say, there's something different about evacuating in a car over highway 278... it seems so easy. However, when you're on an island only accessible by boat or very small plane (they might as well be those ones you get from the dentist office that you wind up and throw off your bunk bed), you consider your hurricane plans in a different light. We were watching the waves crash against the reef and then spill over the seawall into the front of the resorts and decided that we were getting off the rock.

The painful thing about this evacuation was that Ali and I had just been in Benque for a couple days and had only returned to the island that morning. We left Belize city and everyone was saying, "oh yeah, no storm, no problem"... after a bumpy ride which took us past huge waves and a few overturned boats we arrived at the first stop, Caye Caulker where there were about fifty locals lined up to get to Belize City. Ali and I looked at each other and then at our empty boat and thought... hmm... Sure enough as soon as my foot hit the dock my phone rang and Dinorah called, telling us that we were welcome back if we had to leave. We took her up on the offer.

Each day we were in Benque we called back to San Pedro to see how things were going. On Friday we thought about comming back so we called Abel, one of the lay ministers and a seasoned fisherman who's ridden out hurricanes in a mangrove swamp. The conversation went something like this: Ali said, "Abel, how's it going there?".
"Oh, it's fine Ali, just fine."
"really? No waves or flooding?"
"Oh, yes, flooding, the water's up at the houses. But it always is. Are you comming back today?"
"Well, Abel, are the water taxis running so we can get back?"
"Oh no, the water taxi's aren't running. It's to rough".
"Well then I guess we can't come back yet".
"Oh, I suppsoe not".

It occured to us after talking to him that someone who's weathered 30 years of storms at sea probably isn't the best one to consult in regards to the severity of a storm.

So, we stayed in Benque for a while and ended up going to the mass celebrating the close of the Eucharistic year in Belize that took place in Belmopan. Now, this mass was with all of Belize and the Bishop and it was definately a cultural experience. We walk in and there's a whole Garifuna choir (Garifuna is a culture that's descended from survivors of a slave ship that was traveling from Africa to the U.S. and wrecked off the coast of Belize. Therefore, the culture is very African). So, these ladies are all singing in this choir and everytime they sang a song they swayed their hips back and forth to the music. The icing on the cake was when they sang the Our Father in Garifuna and said to everyone, "Join hands across the aisles and let's sing the Our Father and move to the music". In all my days at Franciscan I've never seen anything like this. The whole stadium, hands joined, swaying to the music and bobbing up and down. It would be enough to send any liturgist into a fit. But it was so FUN! The best part of the whole experience was watching Fr. Dan, the pastor of Mt. Carmel who had just professed to us his total lack of charismatic style, standing on the altar while all of these gringo priests were trying to get into the prayer. Some were all about it, others, like Fr. Dan, were standing as still as possible. For him to move any less, he would have had to be comatose or something. The whole situation was just a perfect blend of Belizean culture and gringo-awkwardness that makes you giggle at random moments for the rest of the week just thinking about it.

So, that about wraps it up. We're getting ready for an All Saints Day fair and costume contest with the primary school and I may just bust out the digital camera to capture it all on film. Stay tuned!

have wheels, will travel...

My close friends and anyone unfortunate enough to be around when I mount my soapbox know that I have certain opinions about how driving a car is a milestone in your life. I have always said that being capable of providing your own transportation provides a necessary sense of autonomy in the life of a teenager. Looking back on my life, I can remember the thrill of my first solo driving trip (to Wal-Mart), the first time I could successfully drive standard in Suki, the Saab that my family had for the summer (which reminds me about my buying Swedish cars soapbox that’s a must-hear for anyone contemplating a Saab vs. a Honda… In the words of Fr. Dave Pivonka, “shoudaboughtahonda”.) Anyways, the list of the thrills of having transportation one’s own transportation and the adventures that ensue goes on and on. And now there’s another one for the list, although one which I hardly thought I’d be adding in my advanced years. Yes, us four San Pedro girls were given bicycles to get around town last week.
Our house is in a fabulous location—for those of you familiar with the area we’re near the airstrip, on the Tropic Air side. We’re not on the “main drag” so we don’t have to listen to amateur attempts at Bob Marley that blare from the acoustic bands playing in the bars that line the beach (unfortunately the Church isn’t so lucky. Fr. Jim joked that he wanted to trade living arrangements with us so he could have some peace!), but our location is still in a nice, well lit part of town that’s one row of houses away from the beach. Now, although a fifteen minute walk to work that takes you right next to the Caribbean ocean is hardly going to get much sympathy, the trips back and forth to our house were adding up. Announcements were made at mass and parishioners (and a random tourist) donated bicycles for us which cut our trips back and forth to under five minutes.
The donations hold some touching stories actually. Two bikes were donated. A third was provided by a tourist who handed one of the lay ministers $200. When Ali went to the hardware store with Claudio to buy the bike, the owners of the store (Mr. And Mrs. Castillo who, coincidentally, live in the apartment above us) asked if we received all the donations necessary. When Ali and Claudio said that they were short one bicycle, the Castillos said they would donate a fourth bike when Ann Benage arrived. Well, the night that Ann arrived (whoo-hoo by the way. Our four person dream team is assembled) another parishioner, Visitacion, who is a sweet older man who is always at mass, prayer meetings and speaks almost no English, came to our house. We didn’t understand what he was saying to us, but we got that it was about a fourth bike. We thought he was delivering the fourth one from Castillos, that he would bring it to Church the next day. Well, on Sunday he arrived at Church with a brand new bike for Ann. We then had someone around to help us understand what he was saying, and they explained that he had went out and purchased the bike for us and that he was making payments on it. There are no words for someone who has just given so much, the generosity of the San Pedronos is a truly incredible thing to experience and this act of Visitacion was so touching… So, when we went to Castillos they donated four bike baskets and a bulletin board for our parish hall (the cost of which is actually equivalent to a new bike). Thanks to the generosity of the people of San Pedro we are now cruising around in bikes and able to tote it in the basket which is good since we havn’t mastered the local talent of carrying everything—whether it’s a five gallon jug of water, your groceries for the day or your infant child—in one hand while you steer with the other. Riding around, the four of us look like the opening scenes from the old Babysitter’s Club movies or maybe a Limited Too commercial. Pretty darn cute.
We’re now able to ride around to all the schools and maneuver the traffic which consists of lots of bikes, golf carts, tractors full of Belikin and bottled water and the occasional car. It sounds easier than it is! More updates to come, I have to get to the Primary school in about twenty minutes so I’d better run (or ride…).

Getting to work

My apologies to the Sheldon and others who depend on this Blog to while away countless hours (o.k. minutes) of productive work time. I’ve been busy and let’s just be honest, when there’s a world of souls to save the Blog’s a low priority. Ha ha ha. Just kidding.

However, speaking of a world of souls, before I move onto San Pedro, let me just say that my sources in Benque tell me that the tide of communicants continues to swell. Apparently, the Padres decided to start hearing confessions at school before the Friday masses, not afterwards (an amazing mathematical equation when you figure that the opportunities for mortal sin falling between a Wednesday and Friday are exponentially fewer than Friday afternoon all the way to the next Friday morning mass). So, they heard the fourth form boy’s confessions last week and challenged them all to lead the school in going to communion on Friday and they were quite excited about the opportunity. Apparently, Fr. Mark invited them to lead the school in going to Communion on Friday and all the Catholics went! He said they had about 200 students receive that morning! I can’t even think about this without tears in my eyes. Let’s just be honest. No paycheck in the world can equal the feeling that comes from watching kids you taught about Jesus receive Him in the Eucharist (although a laborer is worth his wage, Mom and Dad, don’t worry there are people out there that will write a check for these mad skills). Anyways, it’s so hard to not be at Mt. Carmel while there’s so much going on with the kids that I love so much, but I ask you in joining me in praying for both the students and teachers at Mt. Carmel, because if there’s hundreds more kids receiving Jesus in the Eucharist on a weekly basis, some created beings in low places are going to start attacking…

So, La Isla Bonita… San Pedro… Saint Peterprayforus…. What can I say? I’m not in Kansas (or Benque) anymore, I’m a grown up missionary now. This is so much more than lesson planning (which was no cake walk either). So, first of all, let me tell you that we have received the most incredible, open-armed welcome from the parishioners at San Pedro Catholic Church. These people are active Catholics in what is known as the “axis of evil” in Belize, so you know there’s something special about them. They’re taking turns having us over for lunch so we’re really getting a chance to know the people which has been awesome (San Pedronos are much more proficient in English than most people we met in Benque too, so there’s much less awkward silences followed by… lo siento, como se dice…? So that in itself is really rewarding. So in the past week we’ve really gotten to get the grand picture. Who have we met? Oh, I could write a book.

Claudio is a lay minister who picked us up from the water taxi terminal, brought us a pizza that night and has been looking out for us ever since. He and his wife Maria are both from San Pedro and have been really helping us see what the need on the island is for evangelization and Youth Ministry. Claudio has been working pretty hard on the evangelization end himself, he’s been taking care of the daily 6:30 a.m. and 6:30 p.m. half-hour Catholic radio shows on his own so that the Church wouldn’t loose the spot. He’s a big fan of Scott Hahn and Jeff Cavins, (so strange to realize that Hahn’s fan-club has no borders) he explained to us that for the past thirty years, the Jesuits were coming to San Pedro to say mass on Sunday but there was very little religious education.
Thirty years of little religious education is a lot for one island to weather, but other pieces are beginning to fall into place to help us understand the challenge that is San Pedro. Soon after meeting Claudio and Maria we met Abel and Martha, two other awesome lay ministers. Sitting in their living room that overlooks the “midway”, the main road of San Pedro that’s lined with hotels, bars and tiny shops that sell the same tacky “you better Belize it” souvenirs and cluttered with golf-cart and bicycle traffic (the only “real” cars are the occasional minivan taxi), Martha explained to us that when they were children, San Pedro was a village. No electricity, no running water, nada. So a mere 50 years ago this was all your primitive National Geographic scene. What happened? Well, Martha explained, her sister married a man who had the idea to put an airstrip and hotel on the island. This idea is in the same league as the genius who said, “what about… sliced bread?” or “I got it. Let’s bottle water!” or “hey, I bet people would by a round-flat disk that they can put in a machine to play music”. You get the idea. Her family ran this hotel with a generator that turned off after dark and water that had to be pumped to each room. Fifty years and a billion tourists later, you have modern day San Pedro.

Look at a timeline and count the years between the invention of electricity and modern day America. Look and see how much “transition” we in the U.S. of A. had and how modern social problems still confound us and we could, sort of, see them coming. Plus (and many would probably argue this point) the average American had access to a lot more moral formation than Jesuits visiting their Church every Sunday (NOT that the Jesuits can’t be good at moral formation! Nobody go telling Aron Little that I’m giving the Jesuits bad press in the blog). I’m just saying that America is morally floundering and we sort of saw it coming in the past couple decades. Imagine if you lived in a world that went from Little House on the Prairie to MTV’s Spring Break in less than fifty years. No transition! I mean, you have parents who grew up in thatched cabanas raising kids who carry cell phones, jet around town in souped up golf carts and socialize with bars full of unscrupulous tourists influencing these kids with the worst possible example of drunken revelry. (Not all tourists are bad mind you! But the badly behaved ones are the ones that attract all the attention…) In the midst of the island flourishing on a material level, evil was able to take root without people even realizing. The gist of this soapbox-style rant is that we now see why the kids here are at risk, it’s a real multi-generational catechetical nightmare!

Anyways, we were discussing all this at lunch with Claudio and Maria and Maria interrupted Claudio’s descriptions with, “but do not get discouraged! We need you here!”. If we were to stand back and look at everything that needs to be done and could be done, we’d go crazy. However, we’re just taking things a day at a time, a project at a time. Fr. Jim, the pastor of San Pedro Catholic Church is a very spiritual man and he told us, as long as we’re praying everyday for our work and for the island, he doesn’t care if it all flops. It’s all you really can do, to just keep in mind that above all you need to be a living witness to what you’re trying to teach and as soon as you get so stressed out that you can’t be effective, you might as well go sell shoes… or maybe sea shells by the seashore.

The past two days I occupied myself with gathering the names of all the children all over the island who will need to be prepared for the Sacraments. Let me tell you, this was no small feat. I wanted to meet some sort of representative from the schools so I decided to actually visit the schools, biking from one side of the town to the other. I discovered that besides the public Roman Catholic School (it’s a confusing system for us Americans. Many of the public schools are called R.C. Schools, short for “Roman Catholic”. A priest from Cayo once explained it to me this way. Apparently, the Church is so darn good at education, often the government jus lets it run their schools. A lot for us “separation of Church and state” raised Americans to wrap our little brains around but it works for them. Anyways, I discovered that there are about seven other schools in San Pedro, which is pretty amazing considering that San Pedro has about half the population of Hilton Head. However, I also discovered that many of the schools are no more than an apartment with desks and a chalkboard. Anyone can hang out a shingle calling their house a school. My friend Ali exclaimed, “it’s like clusters of homeschoolers!”.

Ok, as I approach my third page of rambling I realize that I should probably postpone more stories for an upcoming post. Please keep us all in your prayers!