Odile's Graduation

Another post! I'm still trying to catch you up. More to come soon. 

I’ve been wanting to write a quick entry about a cool event I attended in April.

I know I’ve written a little before about Mamma Odile. She’s the head teacher of our pre-school class and definitely my best Rwandese friend, other than the sisters. My French has improved significantly thanks to her as has my understanding of African culture, particularly what it means to be a woman in Africa. I just love her. 

Odile is a mother of three, a teacher, and in April became a college graduate- a huge achievement.
She invited me to her graduation ceremony and her party afterwards. It was such an honor to go and I had a great time. I wanted to upload a few pictures for those of you who are curious about African university graduations.
The Rwandese really enjoy grand events and pomp and circumstance are very important to them so the ceremony was very formal. When I told the sisters I was invited to the graduation, they were worried about what I was going to wear because at that point I only had one formal African dress that I had already worn to several events, so I went ahead and had a second one made to wear to the graduation ceremony. Odile’s niece is a seamstress so I paid her to make it.  

The morning of the ceremony, one of Odile’s brothers-in-law, Joseph, picked me up in his car with Odile and then we went to get her sister Noella who is also a teacher at our school and was also graduating. It was a really big day for their family. 

The actual ceremony lasted almost 6 hours and I was the only Mzungu there. I sat with the oldest sister of Odile and Noella and took lots of pictures despite the cold, rainy weather. 

Just getting started

After the ceremony, Joseph picked us up again (there were only two tickets so he  didn’t come in) and we went to their mother’s house and the women began cooking a huge feast. Even though the party hadn’t started yet and no other guests had arrived, Odile and Noella kept sneaking me food and Fantas. I didn’t exactly put up a fight to refuse (they are great cooks!). 

Little by little, people began gathering until there was a huge group of Odile and Noella’s family, friends, neighbors, and just random people who wanted to stop by for the food. There was a lot of dancing, eating, drinking, and just general celebrating. 

At one point of the night people started making speeches. One older gentleman began making a speech in Kinyarwanda and suddenly I realized everyone was looking at me. The woman next to me (another sister of Odile and Noella’s; there are 9 sisters) told me to stand up and then people clapped for me. I still have no idea what that man said or why they clapped, but I felt very welcomed.

Not a great picture, but it's the only one I have
 of my seamstress,  me, and the dress. In our better
pictures,  I'm wearing a cardigan but I wanted to
show the dress. At that moment we had just snuck
 some fried potatoes from the grill. 

The next week I went over to Odile’s house because she was braiding Noella’s hair and wanted company. For those of you not familiar with hair braiding, it can take several hours, so Odile invited me over to watch French soap operas and eat while she braided. My new dress also wasn’t fitting quite right so the day after the party I asked Odile’s niece to fix it for me. I was planning on picking up the dress at Odile’s that day. 

As we were hanging out, Odile and Noella gave me the best compliment I have received during my entire time in Africa. They told me that their mother really loved meeting me, then Odile added, “She said you are not like a Mzungu. You came to our home and were a real African. You are now a part of our family.” 

Just then her niece brought out my new African dress and had embroidered it beautifully. I was shocked because embroidery like that takes at least 5 hours, but they said it was a gift to prove that I was now a part of their family. 

I was so touched and wore that dress for the beautification of Blessed John Paul II. 

Roma Continued

The week before the beautification pictures of JPII started
 showing up all over Rome. Pictured is Nia, Natalia and
 me in front of one of pictures in St. Peter's Square. 

The next night, we began preparing for JPII”s beautification. 

I was shocked by how many pilgrims came that week. By Saturday night, people were flooding the streets. Because all the hotels were full, there were tons of people camping right on the roads in big groups with sleeping bags. We somehow passed through them and went to a prayer service with the Emmanuel Community where Maria had been invited to give a speech in front of everyone about how Pope John Paul II had impacted her life. There were hundreds of people there and she did an awesome job. 

After that, the students at Nia’s school and a few others carried the World Youth Day Cross (a gift JPII had given to all the youth of the world). We were trying to return the cross to the Centro but were having trouble getting through all the gates to enter close to St. Peter’s square. We kept having to go through security points and were almost denied at most of them. It took us from midnight until about 3:45 a.m. to reach the Centro. After putting the cross back, we prayed then slept for about 45 minutes. Around 5, we woke up, dressed and went outside to join the crowds. 

Carrying the World Youth Day
Cross to the prayer service the
evening before the beautification. 

I’ve never seen anything like that crowd. I felt like the air had been replaced by people. There was no room to move and I couldn’t even turn from side to side. My shoulders were pushed tight against the shoulders of total strangers also there to celebrate our beloved JPII.

The guards opened the gates to St. Peter’s Square at 5:30 a.m. My feet were actually lifted off the ground as the crowd rushed forward. My toes only touched the ground every few seconds at certain parts of the rush. People were singing and cheering and actually one old woman growled at me! Somebody stepped on her foot and I got the blame for it (possibly rightfully but there was no way to tell).

Finally, we got inside and crashed right there on the ground and slept for a couple hours. 

The actual beatification was beautiful. The day has been really cloudy and sort of cold and all the weather forecasts predicted rain. When Pope Benedict appeared people began shouting and chanting his name until the Mass began. Perfectly, just as the Mass started, the clouds left the sky and we were left with brilliant weather. As Pope Benedict revealed the photo of Blessed JPII, people began cheering and the applause lasted at least 20 minutes. Balloons were released into the air and people were waving bright colorful banners against the perfect sky. 

Just waking up after sleeping on
the floor of St. Peter's Square.

I just have to be sappy for a moment: 

I think one of the best things about going to a place like Rome, especially for the beatification of a saint, is that the universality of the Catholic Church sort of smacks you in the face. Now, I know there are Catholics in every country in the world, and some of those Catholics live in great danger because of their faith. I know that the Masses I went to in Texas are the same as the ones I attend in Rwanda and these are the same as those said in Germany, Egypt, India, and Cambodia. Still, knowing this information, and then suddenly being in a situation where millions of people you have never met and never will meet are all shouting “Papa Benedicto” for your shared pope, and then “Papa Giovanni Paulo” for your new saint, and realizing that each of the people with you is in love with Jesus Christ and is on the same journey as you, is an experience I, at least, am not eloquent enough to describe properly. But when I called out our pope’s name, surrounded by friends from all over the globe, and the two million strangers there for Blessed John Paul II”s beatification, I knew I was surrounded by the closest of family. I knew I was home. And I know this sounds sentimental and schumcky, but unless I’ve expressed those feelings, I haven’t explained my experience of Rome, because that is by far the biggest impression I am left with.

The beautification

The next day was my last full day in Rome. Nia, Natalia, and some of the others from the school went with us around the city. Nia wanted me to meet her friend who had been a Swiss Guard. When we met him, he asked if we wanted to go to the Vatican and pray in front of the tomb of JPII. We told him the lines were lasting up to 6 hours and we just weren’t interested in waiting so long, but he said he could pull some strings and took us down. 

We walked straight through the back of the Vatican and the Swiss Guards let us pass. We then got to pray right beside the tomb of JPII for several hours. All the pilgrims who waited in line had to file past quickly, but we were able to kneel on the floor and pray as long as we wanted. Tons of photographers were taking our pictures, I think, because we were the only young people able to do that.

Praying in front of the tomb of
Blessed John Paul II

That night, Nia and I were upstairs with her community when Matthew came up and said Dannielle wanted to talk to us. I had a sneaking suspicion what she wanted to say and sure enough when we entered Dannielle’s room she was sporting freshly painted nails and a brand new diamond ring! Matthew did a great job picking out a beautiful ring (and an even more beautiful fiancee) and his proposal was very sweet and romantic. I won’t be able to tell the proposal story the way they can and it’s their story to tell anyway, but for all of those curious he proposed to her in a chapel after washing her feet. 

We all screamed and cried and laughed and then talked way into the night. Danni and Matthew left early the next morning and I left around noon. Nia and I thought we were going to be late for my train because we were picking up my last Western meal at McDonalds (french fries and a milkshake, obviously) so we ended up sprinting through the train station only to be early for the train. 

I was worried about the flights back because of things going on in the news at that time. Osama Bin Laden had just been killed the day before and I had to fly through Nairobi, where he had staged an attack on the American embassy in 1998. I was worried about revenge attacks; however, my embassy emailed to give me traveling tips and I checked the CIA website and made it back just fine. The girls were all really excited I was home and even more excited when I gave them the prayer cards with a picture of Blessed John Paul II Matthew had bought for them. 

Needless to say, my trip to Rome was very blessed, as was my return to Africa. 

Roma part 1

I’ve been promising to write about Rome, so here it is! I’m going to break it into two entries because it’s a lot to read all at once. 

Nia, Matthew, Dannielle and me walking
in to Easter Sunday Mass. 

Not surprisingly, Rome was a great experience. I stayed with one of my best friends, Nia, at her mission school and got to spend a lot of time with her community. I really loved the Emmanuel Community and it was such a gift to spend Easter and the beatification with such wonderful Catholics. I really learned and grew through their examples and friendships.

I’ll admit that my first day in Rome was a little difficult. It was my first time being back in the West since arriving in Africa. When I got off the airplane, I felt sort of nauseous. From the moment I arrived at the airport there were a lot of flashy advertisements, huge stores selling expensive clothing and perfumes, plus everyone was white. It was pretty disorienting, but I’ve heard from other missionaries that it’s a normal reaction. 

I somehow navigated the trains in Rome to arrive at Nia’s hotel, but she was at a papal Mass so I had a couple of hours to wait before she came back. I was actually relieved because in that time I was able to calm down and relax a little. Plus I got to take a hot shower and use fast internet! 

It was great seeing Nia and we were sure to scream and jump around and then a few hours later our friends Dannielle and Matthew (Dannielle’s boyfriend and our college friend) arrived, which resulted in more screaming and jumping. I’m sure Matthew would appreciate if I clarified that he didn’t jump. It was just so wonderful to all be together again.

At the same time, however, I kept wishing our friend Maria Mitchell could come (This is foreshadowing). Maria has a really special connection with Blessed John Paul II. She had seen him in person many times and on one occasion had even spoken with him. She was in St. Peter’s Square on a school trip the night he died, so she was one of the thousands of mourners praying for him during his last hours. As she prayed, her picture was taken by a journalist and she ended up in Time Magazine. 

It just didn’t feel right being there for his beatification without her. One night I even had a dream she came and was with us, but the next morning when I told Nia and Dannielle about the dream they acted uninterested. After that dream, I kept wishing even more that she could have come, but Nia told me Maria was taking her finals. 

That Saturday night we had the Easter Vigil with Nia’s community and it was really beautiful. It was my first time hearing Mass in English in 9 months! That night we celebrated with everyone in her community and the next morning went to the Easter Mass with Pope Benedict! It was my first time to see a pope and I’ve always loved Pope Benedict’s writings (especially from when he was Cardinal Ratzinger). Going to Easter Sunday mass with him was a huge gift. 

The week continued with a lot of sight seeing. I got to go to a Wednesday audience and saw Pope Benedict again there. That was the closest I got to him. I was maybe 70 feet away. It was really exciting and I joined with everyone there chanting “Papa Benedicto!”

The man of the hour

During the rest of the week, Nia took me around on running/sometimes panicked- late to something else- tours of all the normal places to see in Rome. The hard thing about Rome is there are so many historical and spiritual sites and on a short vacation like this, it’s just not possible to see everything, but also I sort of felt an obligation to try to see the most famous sites. I think next time I’ll drop the frantic tourist act and just spend more time in the places I really loved or where I have a true interest, but I’m glad I can at least say I’ve been to the major spots. I hate to admit it, but I’m a terrible tourist and kept needing Nia to tell me again and again where we were or what we had seen earlier that day.

We were actually running when I took this. 

Also, although I thought she did a great job, apparently Nia is not the best of tour guides. A couple of times during our sightseeing, Nia would say “Oh and that’s (fill in the blank)” and someone else would say, “no… no. That’s not right,” and then would take over the explanation. Characteristically, Nia had a good sense of humor about her lack of Roman sites knowledge and one of my favorite moments was when she told Matthew the name of a river she apparently passes somewhat frequently and we later found out that river is in France, not Rome.

The week was passing quickly, and one night, Nia, her classmate Natalia (who will soon be my housemate in NJ!), and I wanted to make dinner for a priest. We had been sightseeing that day and so we were all heading back to cook, but Nia insisted I go out shopping with another friend. Confused, I went shopping for the first time in 9 months. We went inside some of the high end stores before finding an H&M. I was totally overwhelmed by the experience and only bought a plain t-shirt in the wrong size. Not my best effort.

I came back right as dinner was about to begin and saw Nia and Natalia in the hallway. As I started talking to them, Maria Mitchell walked down the stairs! I was so shocked I didn’t scream or even smile. I just stood there like an idiot as she ran down and hugged me. I’m not even sure if I hugged her back. Everyone teased me about my lack of reaction later. Apparently the entire group had been planning Maria’s surprise visit for a couple months. 

Danni and Nia apparently were really confused and concerned I was onto them when I talked about the dream, so Nia just made up Maria’s exams to throw me off. I absolutely believed her, although in retrospect, obviously Franciscan wouldn’t give final exams during Easter week. I was fooled and it was such a great surprise. 

I think all the good pictures of
Maria and me are on her camera
so this blurry picture will have to
do as evidence that she was there. 

The next day Maria (who should be given a degree in Roman tour-guiding) took me to the catacombs and after to St. Paul’s Cathedral where we met up with Nia and Natalia. This was one of my favorite days because going from catacombs to cathedral was like examining a contradiction that was suddenly explained and organized. I hope that makes sense, but my English is getting rusty and I’m having a hard time finding the right words so I’ll just explain further. As I stood in St. Paul’s after just having been in the catacombs hours earlier, I was struck by the contrast. I wondered if St. Paul or any of the other early Christians who buried the martyrs or performed secret Masses in the Catacombs would believe where we have come if they could see the grandeur of St. Paul’s. I was just amazed that our tiny early Church survived persecutions and continued to grow and build until today. I couldn’t believe that here I was 2,000 years later praying in the same places and a member of the same Church, same faith, and living for the same God for whom they sacrificed everything. 

I’m getting overly sentimental, so I’ll just wrap up this post by saying I feel so grateful to have had this opportunity. 

My next post will be about the actual beautification.