Category Archives: #Catholic

Whacky Medellin

Perhaps “whacky” is too strong a word to describe some of the differences that I have observed between Medellin and the culture that I usually experience, and no doubt there are many things that North Americans do that appear whacky to Paisas, but at least the title of this blog post is kind of catchy. (People in this region of Colombia are known as “Paisas,” which is a culture that has a Spanish background, and is traditionally Catholic, entrepreneurial, hard-working, and famously hospitable). In any case, here is the whacky in Medellin:

DRIVER ONLY WELCOME. In larger parking garages, only the driver can enter … everyone else has to exit the vehicle at the entrance.

NO SITTING AT METRO STOP. There are very few seats at metro subway stations, and if you sit on the floor while waiting for a train, a nice policeman will tell you to stand up. I learned that firsthand … and the young man was kind enough to help me up when I extended my hand.

BATHROOMS. I could write entire books about this. As in much of Latin America, the bathrooms here are tiny … and most are not a bathroom, but a stall. I you are sitting on the toilet, you must sit up straight if you don’t want your head resting on the stall door. If you want to stand and pee, you’ll have to carefully slide to the left, or slide to the right of the toilet to execute that peeing maneuver because if you’re standing in front of the toilet your butt will be holding open the door. One day I went to a door marked “Hombres” and found only a urinal inside … I guess that men aren’t permitted to poop there. (I did not check what was behind the “Mujeres” door). Lastly, on several occasions I have peed into an open air urinal that is on the wall on the sidewalk or even in restaurants … but at least there are dividers on each side of the urinal so that those who are eating nearby don’t have to see everything.

SIDEWALKS. I’ve written about this on previous trips – don’t bring your U.S. expectations of sidewalk manners to Latin America because you will go crazy if you do. For example, if two people are standing in the middle of the sidewalk and see you walking toward them, they won’t budge … your job is to walk around them, including into the busy street at times. If someone walking beside you is an inch in front of you, they will cross right in front of you to make their turn instead of hesitating a moment to let you pass by before making their turn. I started writing this post at a local library, and on my way into the library a maintenance man was sitting on a bench taking a break with a rake extended in front of him blocking the sidewalk … and the rake did not move, but I did. Speaking of sidewalks, if you get distracted sight-seeing while walking there are any number of things on, above, below, and near the sidewalk that can put a world of hurt on you … such as crevices, rebar jutting out, tree limbs, utility boxes with no lid (to see how your toes or entire foot will mingle with all the electrical wires down there), poop that has been deposited, and who knows what else is down there … and since I am taller than 99% of the people here, my noggin can meet any number of tree branches, food cart awnings, ceilings, etc. To avoid a trip to the pharmacy for bandages, I’m always looking up and down, up and down, up and down …

PHARMACIES. They are very different here. Everything is behind the counter … if you want aspirin, antacids, cough syrup, vitamin C, and many things that you’ll find on the shelves in U.S. grocery stores, they will be dispensed by a pharmacist here. Moreover, you don’t buy whole bottles … if you only want to buy a sleeve of 10 ibuprofen pills, you can do that. I was offered 3 sore-throat lozenges, and opted for 6 instead. So you walk up to the pharmacist (or whoever it is that dispenses the goods from behind the counter) and you tell them your symptoms, and they will show you the medicines that they think you should take (some of which probably require a doctors prescription in the U.S.). Sometimes you can figure out what medicine you are taking (such as acetaminophen that is spelled similarly in Spanish), but other times you have no idea so you just have to trust the prescriber and go with it.

CROSSWALKS. While we’re talking about sidewalks and medical supplies, we may as well talk about crosswalks. What looks like a crosswalk here (with painted white lines on the roadway) is not actually a safe place, and if you assume that traffic will slow or stop for you while you are in the “crosswalk,” your family will be receiving a call from the local morgue. You have to look left, right, up, down, behind you, and then left and right again quickly before darting across any street here. If the light turns green a block away from where you are strolling across a quiet non-busy street, suddenly cars and trucks and busses and motorcycles will slam on the gas, dart off the line, and shoot out of the blocks to see who can hit you or narrowly miss you first. One maddening thing about Medellin (and probably all of Colombia) is that the plethora of motorcycles are permitted to ride in-between the vehicles that are in the traffic lanes. You can be going 50 MPH down the road, or navigating a 3-lane traffic circle, with motorcycles on each side of your vehicle that seem to be only inches away. And these motorcyclists and scooter drivers have no fear … they will take on cars, trucks, busses, anything, in order to cut in front and get ahead in traffic.

SCOOTER TOUR. Last week I made an appointment to see some apartments that are offered by an apartment rental agency, and a 18-year-old kid on a scooter showed up to give me the tour. He handed me what looked like a little kid toy plastic helmet to wear, complete with the severely scratched plastic eyeball shield that flapped up and down in the wind while obscuring my view. Thank God there was a metal bar behind my butt that I could hold on to for dear life while we zipped and darted and careened through town. After we looked at that first dumpy apartment, I really didn’t want to ride any longer nor see another apartment … but I thought, “what the hell … the worst that could happen is that I lose a limb, be paralyzed, or get killed” … so I went for it. After we looked at that second dumpy apartment, I thanked the young man for his time and told him that I would be walking back to town.

CHILDREN AND THE STREET. They evidently start teaching in kids in utero how to stay out of the street here. Many times I have seen children as young as 4 years old or younger meandering next to a busy street while vehicle traffic is buzzing by; meanwhile, parents are standing nearby seemingly unconcerned while they are checking text messages on their phone, looking for the next bus, ordering food at a street vendor, talking with a friend, whatever. Sometimes I will watch the scene in amazement, but other times I simply cannot watch. Fortunately, the kids seem to know just how far they can go, as if there was some invisible fence that would give them a jolt right at the line that separates the sidewalk from the street. Speaking of the street, when cars are stopped at a traffic light you will often see jugglers and other street performers putting on a show in front of the stopped vehicles in order to earn a few coins … likewise, windshield cleaners will clean your windshield without asking your permission while you are stopped at the traffic light (hoping you will give them money) … and any number of vendors will get on your bus to sell you their products, preach the gospel, promote a social service project, or play an instrument for you in order to earn some money.

FULL-SERVICE GAS PUMPS. Remember those? I suppose that somewhere in the U.S. there are still a few of those around, but no doubt you pay more to have someone pump your gas. I contrast, I have never seen a self-service gas pump here. When you pull into the gas station there is an attendant at literally every pump … you tell them how much gas you want, and after you have paid they will pump your gas.

PASSPORT. Unlike other Latin American countries where I was able to carry a copy of my passport, here you will have to show your actual passport to get into many places and/or make credit card purchases. Every university campus that I have visited here is secured at every entrance with gates and security guards who will check your passport (and sometimes take your picture) before you can enter the campus. Banks, municipal offices, libraries, casinos, high-end retailers of jewelry, appliances, etc., and many other places have armed security guards. Nonetheless, one thing nice about Colombia (in contrast to other countries such as Ecuador, Peru, Guatemala, etc.) is that the security guards here are not standing around with a scowl on their face and packing what looks like a sawed-off shotgun hanging from their neck while their trigger finger is twitching … the security guards here look quite normal.

COFFEE. Sadly, in what is viewed as the Coffee Capital of the World, I suspect that almost all of the best coffee is exported (as is the case in Guatemala). The only place you’ll find the good stuff here is at very expensive coffee houses that cater to tourists. Everywhere else, when you ask for a cup of coffee you’ll receive a 6-ounce cup of coffee that is half milk. If you want black coffee, you have to specify “tinto” which literally means “tinted” in Spanish. At many of the little snack shops and small restaurants that line the streets, your cup of coffee will be served in a tiny plastic cup which seems not much larger than a cough syrup dispenser. Fortunately, your shot of coffee will only cost about 30 cents … and it comes with 3 packs of sugar.

Also posted in #Latino

La Virgen del Rosario

Hoy es un dia muy importante en esta ciudad, es la celebración de la Virgen del Rosario.

No lo sé cuando salí nuestro casa, pero mientras estaba caminando oí musica en la calle.  Entonces ví una procesión saliendo una iglesia Católica.  Las personas llevaban una mesa, y en la mesa había una estatua grande de la Virgen.  Atras de la estatua había personas tocanaban varios instrumentos y había muchas otras personas caminaban lentamente.  Enfrente de la procesión había una niña y a veces ella tiró petalos de rosa al pie de la estatua.  Todas las personas estaban muy contentas.

Mas tarde fui al centro par ver la celebración en el parque central.  Había cientos de vendedoras que venden comida y artesanías, tambien había partidos para los niños y bandas tocando musica.  La festividad fue muy alegre y divertida.

Also posted in #Guatemala, Blog de Español

Abbey of the Holy Trinity Day 2 and 3

We awoke at 3:00 A.M. so that we would have enough time to make the nearly mile walk to the Abbey for 3:30 A.M. Vigils. This service is my least favorite of all the services, and not because it is held in the middle of the night (or at the start of the day for the monks), but because the tone and language of Vigils seems dark and foreboding to me, as if enemies could strike at any moment. I suppose that the language for this service was crafted hundreds of years ago when monks were actively persecuted for living by faith, and the same language is used today.

Saturday was a pretty restful day, in between services I mostly napped. My bride and I enjoyed dinner together that night, and ended our day by attending Compline services.

Sunday morning I was a very bad boy. I walked to the Retreat Center for breakfast where I ate bacon and eggs. It is a very rare occasion for me to have bacon and eggs, and not because I don’t like the taste. We pretty much eliminated that meal from my options several years ago when I discovered I have high cholesterol, which totaled 303 when tested recently. After trying for years (unsuccessfully) to lower my cholesterol through vitamin therapy, I finally gave in and started taking Vytorin about a year ago. That lowered my overall cholesterol count to 180, but my prescription ran out about 4 months ago and my cholesterol shot back up. Now I am on Lipitor. Anyways, after I ate my bacon and eggs (which I thoroughly enjoyed), I noticed that one of the other male Retreatants was eating Raisin Bran cereal. I told him how impressed I was to see him eating healthy cereal in light of the unhealthy breakfast I had just eaten. He commented that his cholesterol level is over 400, and his physician is threatening to prepare a bed for his imminent arrival at the hospital.

In any case, I survived the breakfast and met Sheri at 8:00 A.M. for morning Mass. After we purchased several items in the gift store, we packed up for the ride back to Salt Lake City.

Before we had left to go on retreat, we were both very much into March Madness and watching lots of basketball on TV. But by Sunday afternoon on our way home, March Madness did not seem as important to us.

We are grateful for our time at the Abbey of the Holy Trinity, and plan to return at least once each year for as long as we live in Utah. Thanks, God, for these men who devote themselves to you and to humankind.

Also posted in #monastery

Abbey of the Holy Trinity Day 1

I write these words in Huntsville, UT, at the Abbey of the Holy Trinity. This monastery is home to contemplative Cistercian Monks commonly known as Trappists. Sheri and I have come here on retreat, and thus we are now officially Retreatants.

Wow! Where do I begin? I have so much I want to say all at once …

I am sitting on the front row in the Church Sanctuary. I just finished eating dinner with the other male Retreatants, and evidently they all know each other and are from the same area of Idaho. It also seems that they are all recovering alcoholics, because the dominant topic of conversation at the dinner table was 12-step meetings. Obviously they don’t feel compelled to adhere to the credo of silence practiced by the Monks and expected of the Retreatants. Usually I would help clean up and set the table, but I came in here to get away from their conversation. And one of the primary reasons I came to this monastery was to experience silence.

Sheri and I went on retreat together back East at the Holy Cross Abbey in Berryville, VA. It was also a Cistercian monastery, but silence was expected there. I got shushed on our first day there by the Retreat Director because I was engaged in a little too much conversation. I learned my lesson.

Another difference here in Utah is the fact that I am allowed in the Retreat Center, but Sheri is not. Women are allowed in the Church for services, and also allowed in the gift shop, but the Retreat Center is for men only. Consequently, she will stay in the Guest House owned by the monastery, which is located about a mile down the road near the entrance to the monastery grounds. We decided that I would spend the night with her in the Guest House so that she would not be alone, but we will sleep in separate rooms so that each of us can have devotional time.

Enough about the differences between Holy Cross and this abbey, it is what it is here, and it will continue to be a blessing. This monastery is situated on over 1800 acres, and is ringed by mountains. Monks from Kentucky came here in the 40’s to purchase this land and establish this monastery.

The Monks here balance prayer, manual work, and spiritual study. Seven days a week, several times a day, they gather here in the Church Sanctuary to praise God and pray for all people.

3:30 A.M. Vigils – “Night Watch”
6:00 A.M. Lauds – “Morning Praise”
6:25 A.M. Mass
7:45 A.M. Tierce – 3rd Hour Prayers
12:15 P.M. Sext – Mid-day Prayers
2:15 P.M. None – 9th Hour Prayers
5:30 P.M. Vespers – “Evening Prayers”
7:30 P.M. Compline – “Final Prayers of the Day”

Also posted in #monastery