Tuesday, November 1, 2011

Welcome to the Blog!

I have been meaning to do this for some time...  There are so many things to write about that it is difficult to know what to write about in my semi-monthly post, so I put it off.  This will give me the ability to comment on whatever I want, and hopefully let you into my world while I do it.  So... here it goes!

Sunday was the big celebration for Senor de Veneno, Lord of the Poison.  Our parish has a capilla (chapel) down the hill from us.  It is located on a steep slope of what can only be termed a mountain.  People go up and down  (and live up and down)  the hill every day, but, oui!  is it steep!  So, anyway, the story goes... there once was a priest that kissed the parish crucifix every time as he entered mass, without fail.  One day, a person that did not like him placed poison on the cross in the place where he was accustomed to kiss it.  The cuerpo de Jesus was regular wood or white, but when the priest went to kiss it that day, it turned black, the priest took this as a sign that something was wrong, and did not kiss it that day.  Later on, they found out about the poison.  The cuerpo on the cross is still black today.  I am hoping to be able to post some pictures here so you can see.  There has been a mass on the street (calle) in a different location, every night this week.
        
Wed, it was held in the calle between two houses.  It had been an interesting and sad week for us in the mission house (earlier that day, my roommate's dog was killed by a bus, and a few days before we found out our parish puppy had been killed in a different way), and we were in need of some cheering up.  It was wonderful to be able to walk down the hill through semi-dark streets that we were told to be careful in and to never go in at night, and end up at this wonderful, floodlit celebration in the street with about 100 or more people.  The mass was done over a makeshift altar and the priest and the lectors talking though a megaphone for the crowds to hear.  Many people here come to mass, but do not receive communion.  The priest went through the crowd and gave communion to whoever had their hand up to receive.  Afterwards, I noticed people from the surrounding houses had come out on their roofs/upper-floor patios to watch and participate.  It was beautiful.  They had strung red and white streamers, some of them hand-made, from house to house across the calle.  Immediately after mass, they whisked out serving tables, food, and the next thing I knew, people with baskets of bread, punch, cookies, and pazole (a typical Mexican soup for special occasions with garbanzo beans (or something like it), tomato broth, and various condiments like lettuce or chicken on top), were heading our way in all directions.  More food kept coming our way, so that when the Jello course came (Jello is a big thing here), it ended up in my pocket simply because I did not have hands to carry it as well.
                Friday night was in someone's garage two doors down from the Senor de Veneno Capilla (Chapel) itself.  Mass started late, if you are looking at Germanic-time, but after we walked there, Father was up and starting mass within two minutes. Fireworks/boomers were sounding in the background, and curious street dogs were continuously being shooed away as the mass went on.  This reminded me how lowly dogs were viewed in Palestine.  After the mass, everyone had a little reception, and Father ended up going to bless a St. Jude capillita (street shrine) and we visited a few more homes before scaling the hill for the night. 




                Saturday and Sunday were masses in the capilla of Senor de Veneno itself.  Saturday was a normal mass, but Sunday was an all day celebration starting at 9am with mariachi bands and the works.  2pm signaled the start of the procession from our parish to the capilla down the hill.  The procession of two crosses and Our Lady included whirling multi-colored costumed dancers, a band, and about a hundred or more people.  Whereas the morning procession took over the main street for a couple blocks, the afternoon procession noisily made its way through the back streets, more and more people coming by to watch and to say hello or join our motley crew as we made our way to the parish.  The main cross was handed from person to person as we went down the steep hill to where over 400-500 people were waiting for mass directly outside of the chapel.  Mass seemed like an afterthought to some during the festivities of the day, whereas others were very involved in the mass itself.  Mass ended with the crowning of the black Jesus on the cross, and cheer-led chants of “Give me a C-R-I-S-T-U-S!  What does that spell? Cristus, Cristus, Cristus!”  Afterward, before the sound of the chant had died away, there was the sound of multiple fireworks being let off at the same time.  Tables were taken out and people were served a hearty meal to celebrate both on the street, and where we were outside the chapel.  
                 I continue to be amazed at how efficiently, and joyfully, hospitality is practiced down here.  A few weeks ago, another missionary and I were invited to the deacon's house for dinner.  Dinner here is around 8pm or later.  We were treated to wonderful food and hospitality, laughing and talking around the table until around midnight.  We found out later that we were invited because the deacon's wife felt bad that she had brought this special dish to the parish and when we walked in, she did not have any for us.  So this little cena (dinner) was arranged on our behalf.  Hospitality is well practiced here, and I am hoping to really learn the lesson :) 

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