Carnival, the days before lent, is a big celebration here in Panama as it is in most parts of Latin America. When I was in Ecuador people celebrated by throwing water over everyone, but they also had many house parties and other events. Originally, of course, this was an opportunity to have a sort of "last fling" before the austerity of lent woul begin.
In Ireland, I'm not sure that Carnival was ever a very big celebration. Certainly, in my lifetime, the emphasis was on lent and the only nod that was given to Carnival was what has come to be called Pancake Tuesday, more traditionally known as Shrove Tuesday.
Shrove is an old Anglo-Saxon word that is the past tense of the verb "to shrive" which means to confess one's sins and do penance. Once this was done, on the Tuesday before Ash Wednesday, there was a celebration in which all the things that could not be eaten during lent - eggs, butter, sugar, meat etc, were consumed. In part there was a practical explanation for this too - there was no way of preserving foodstuffs such as these so they were consumed rather than be wasted. This is, incidentally, the origin of Easter eggs too: eggs were not eaten all during lent and were considered a real treat when people got to eat them once again on Easter Sunday morning. This, over time, was translated in to the custom of eating eggs made from chocolate: if an egg was a treat, a chocolate egg was a real expression of luxury.
The eating of pancakes on Shrove Tuesday is a throwback to these times when lent really was a time of fast and abstinence, for the whole forty days. It's good to remember that these "little traditions" that we observe have their origin in deeply held practices that expressed the faith of the people who observed them. Even if we don't now keep lent in the same way, at least we can be aware of where all these chocolate eggs come from: although I'm pretty certain that our ancestors wouldn't know what to make of the fact that these chocolate eggs are now available long before lent begins, not to mind waiting for Easter Sunday morning.
In Panama Carnival is a big family occasion and a great many people are heading to "the interior" for the days from Sunday to Tuesday. Many of the clergy will also head to be with there families which means that there is currently a bit of a scramble to find priests to celebrate masses in parishes where the priest will be celebrating with his family. It's nice to be involved; it's nice to be able to help too; but, inevitably, a certain amount of saying "no" is also involved as I am not yet able to be in two places at the same time.
Thursday 28 February 2019
Tuesday 26 February 2019
Health Care
Panamanian public health care is based on what is known as the Seguro Social (Social Insurance), shortened by most people to the Seguro. This is a system where every person who earns a salary pays a certain amount in to the fund of the Seguro and, from these contributions, everyone receives free health care, totally free.
At least, that is the theory.
As we well know in Ireland, many factors impinge on such a system making it unwieldy and unworkable. The demands on the system are never-ending and, with spiralling costs, increasing labour demands, deteriorating infrastructure and high expectations, we have all found that the system is often, at best, creaking at the seams.
However, when you move your gaze towards the Panamanian experience of this model you find something very different. Downright barefaced robbery and corruption have meant that the Seguro has been pillaged by a group of people (small or not so small, depending on whom you talk to) to the tune of tens of millions of dollars. This has happened through a serious of frauds, embezzlements, creative accounting, and straightforward theft which has significantly enriched those involved to a degree that they must surely be counted among the world's richest people who have never done a day's work to earn it.
The really sad thing about all of this is that everyone knew/ knows it was/is going on; the names and addresses of those involved is no secret; and successive government administrations have done nothing about it. People here seem to be resigned to the reality of corruption in public life - it is the way it has always been, and it is the way it will always be. While ordinary people work hard, a small few at the "top" (although I have to say that I consider them to be a good example of bottom-feeders) live in spectacular wealth and with impunity.
Panama has begun to prepare for General and Presidential elections which will take place next May. However, there seems to be very little hope that any of the candidates actually means to implement any of their promises, or that the corruption that is endemic will be tackled in any way. A sad reality for a beautiful people who really deserve to get a break from their leaders.
At least, that is the theory.
As we well know in Ireland, many factors impinge on such a system making it unwieldy and unworkable. The demands on the system are never-ending and, with spiralling costs, increasing labour demands, deteriorating infrastructure and high expectations, we have all found that the system is often, at best, creaking at the seams.
However, when you move your gaze towards the Panamanian experience of this model you find something very different. Downright barefaced robbery and corruption have meant that the Seguro has been pillaged by a group of people (small or not so small, depending on whom you talk to) to the tune of tens of millions of dollars. This has happened through a serious of frauds, embezzlements, creative accounting, and straightforward theft which has significantly enriched those involved to a degree that they must surely be counted among the world's richest people who have never done a day's work to earn it.
The really sad thing about all of this is that everyone knew/ knows it was/is going on; the names and addresses of those involved is no secret; and successive government administrations have done nothing about it. People here seem to be resigned to the reality of corruption in public life - it is the way it has always been, and it is the way it will always be. While ordinary people work hard, a small few at the "top" (although I have to say that I consider them to be a good example of bottom-feeders) live in spectacular wealth and with impunity.
Panama has begun to prepare for General and Presidential elections which will take place next May. However, there seems to be very little hope that any of the candidates actually means to implement any of their promises, or that the corruption that is endemic will be tackled in any way. A sad reality for a beautiful people who really deserve to get a break from their leaders.
Monday 25 February 2019
Locked Out...
This week the Augustinians of Panama are all on retreat so they have asked me to fill in in one of their parishes here in the city. It is called the Parish of Santa Maria La Antigua (literally, St Mary, the Old One). This parish is named for the patron of the country of Panama and the title refers to an image of Our Lady thtat was rescued from a sunken ship which was a copy of an image that was venerated in Seville, Spain, It depicts Our Lady holding the child Jesus in one hand and a white rose in the other.
Panamanians have a great attachment to this image and it is to be found in many churches, schools and the Catholic University of Panama (known as the USMA - Universidad Santa Maria la Antigua) is named after it.
I will be saying an early morning mass and and evening mass each day this week (and any funerals that may arise). This evening was my first evening and when I returned I was locked out of the seminary. The road leading up to the seminary is a very dark road and there are often "unsavoury" characters hanging around so I wasn't too pleased to find myself stuck outside the gate for almost a half an hour before someone answered the bell - I'm told things will be better tomorrow. I hope so!!!
Panamanians have a great attachment to this image and it is to be found in many churches, schools and the Catholic University of Panama (known as the USMA - Universidad Santa Maria la Antigua) is named after it.
I will be saying an early morning mass and and evening mass each day this week (and any funerals that may arise). This evening was my first evening and when I returned I was locked out of the seminary. The road leading up to the seminary is a very dark road and there are often "unsavoury" characters hanging around so I wasn't too pleased to find myself stuck outside the gate for almost a half an hour before someone answered the bell - I'm told things will be better tomorrow. I hope so!!!
Sunday 24 February 2019
Sunday Mass and Hojaldras
Today was my first Sunday Mass in a parish since I came here this year. Generally I help out in a parish or two over the weekends. This weekend I was asked by the secretary of the seminary if I could go to her own parish as the Parish Priest would be away this weekend. Normally, they would rely on their permanent deacon but, if they can get a priest, they would prefer it as they can then have the celebration of the Eucharist.
The parish is one of the many parishes in an area of the city known as St. Miguelito (literally, Little Saint Michael). This is a vast area of the city where many hundreds of thousands live. It was, in fact, for many years, the most densely populated area in all of Central and South America. Each individual parish here will often have a population of around 100,000 people: when you compare that with a typical Irish parish which will normally have between 10,000 and 12,000, you can get an idea of the sheer scale of the challenge for parish life here.
Panama is unusual in that, right from the time of Vatican II they have encouraged the permanent diaconate. Bishop McGrath (and American, but of Irish descent) was really a pioneer in this and also in the implementation of many of the reforms of the Council - some of which never really got off the ground at all in some countries. Take, for example, the permanent diaconate: this has only begun to be introduced into Ireland in recent times - and not because it is in itself a good thing: the permanent diaconate has only been countenanced in Ireland because of a shortage of priests.
Anyway, getting back to this morning: like most churches in San Miguelito (which is a very poor area with a lot of problems with serious crime), this one is not air conditioned, unlike some of the wealthier parishes where they can afford to run this expensive luxury. The chapel was full - perhaps 300 people, and there were six babies/ children to be baptised during mass. Baptism has always been one of the celebrations that I have most enjoyed and now that I am not working in a parish in Ireland, I am not normally involved in celebrating this sacrament, so it was nice to be back on familiar territory.
We had a permanent deacon at the mass but he was leaving it to me to do the preaching and the baptising. We had a very lively celebration and, as is normal here, people really get involved in the singing (and in the after-mass activities such as cooking and selling the food to raise money; catechesis for those preparing for sacraments; youth group etc). The permanent deacon, Ricardo, has been a deacon for 24 years. Now he is retired from his "day job" and exercises his ministry as deacon most weekends as well as visiting the sick and being involved in parish activities during the week.
The mass lasted an hour and a half (I only realised this when we were finished) which is about as long as we would expect an Easter Vigil to last in Ireland. This, of course, is where the lack of air conditioning hits home - an hour and a half in a full chapel, wearing vestments etc actually turns out to be quite tiring. I was given a lovely breakfast after mass consisting of fruit and what is called here Hojaldra - this is like a sort of crunchy pancake (made from pancake batter and deep fried: about the size of the palm of your hand) which I'm sure is very fattening, but is also very delicious. Even though hojaldras are considered to be the breakfast of the poor here, they are the thing I most like to eat while I am in Panama.
Now it's almost 9pm so I am off to bed (I normally go at 8) so that I can get up at 5am to be ready for Mass in the morning.
The parish is one of the many parishes in an area of the city known as St. Miguelito (literally, Little Saint Michael). This is a vast area of the city where many hundreds of thousands live. It was, in fact, for many years, the most densely populated area in all of Central and South America. Each individual parish here will often have a population of around 100,000 people: when you compare that with a typical Irish parish which will normally have between 10,000 and 12,000, you can get an idea of the sheer scale of the challenge for parish life here.
Panama is unusual in that, right from the time of Vatican II they have encouraged the permanent diaconate. Bishop McGrath (and American, but of Irish descent) was really a pioneer in this and also in the implementation of many of the reforms of the Council - some of which never really got off the ground at all in some countries. Take, for example, the permanent diaconate: this has only begun to be introduced into Ireland in recent times - and not because it is in itself a good thing: the permanent diaconate has only been countenanced in Ireland because of a shortage of priests.
Anyway, getting back to this morning: like most churches in San Miguelito (which is a very poor area with a lot of problems with serious crime), this one is not air conditioned, unlike some of the wealthier parishes where they can afford to run this expensive luxury. The chapel was full - perhaps 300 people, and there were six babies/ children to be baptised during mass. Baptism has always been one of the celebrations that I have most enjoyed and now that I am not working in a parish in Ireland, I am not normally involved in celebrating this sacrament, so it was nice to be back on familiar territory.
We had a permanent deacon at the mass but he was leaving it to me to do the preaching and the baptising. We had a very lively celebration and, as is normal here, people really get involved in the singing (and in the after-mass activities such as cooking and selling the food to raise money; catechesis for those preparing for sacraments; youth group etc). The permanent deacon, Ricardo, has been a deacon for 24 years. Now he is retired from his "day job" and exercises his ministry as deacon most weekends as well as visiting the sick and being involved in parish activities during the week.
The mass lasted an hour and a half (I only realised this when we were finished) which is about as long as we would expect an Easter Vigil to last in Ireland. This, of course, is where the lack of air conditioning hits home - an hour and a half in a full chapel, wearing vestments etc actually turns out to be quite tiring. I was given a lovely breakfast after mass consisting of fruit and what is called here Hojaldra - this is like a sort of crunchy pancake (made from pancake batter and deep fried: about the size of the palm of your hand) which I'm sure is very fattening, but is also very delicious. Even though hojaldras are considered to be the breakfast of the poor here, they are the thing I most like to eat while I am in Panama.
Now it's almost 9pm so I am off to bed (I normally go at 8) so that I can get up at 5am to be ready for Mass in the morning.
Saturday 23 February 2019
Tremors, Earthquakes and Charles F. Richter
Over the last three days there have been earth tremors. These are movements of the earth's crust due to seismic shifts of the tectonic plates that form the surface of the earth. When these move, everything moves. Sometimes this movement can be so dramatic that it called an earthquake which is one of the most destructive of nature's forces.
Earthquakes are measured by the Richter Scale, a system of seismographic measurement that was developed by Charles F. Richter of the California Institute of Technology in 1935. This scale measures quakes according to a system that is based on logarithms. Unlike most methods of measurement where increases in measurement indicate a linear growth, in Richter's logarithmic scale increases are much more dramatic.
Putting this in English: 2 on the Richter Scale is 31.7 times greater than 1. This means, that when we hear that an earthquake is measured as being 7.4 on the Richter Scale, that it is roughly twice as strong as one that measures 7.3.
I once found myself to be experiencing an earthquake that measured 5.8 on the Richter Scale: to give you an idea of the power of that earthquake, it was strong enough to throw me across the room. Just imagine the power behind some of the recent earthquakes that we have seen in different parts of the world that measured over 14 on the scale - a power beyond reckoning!!!
Many people don't realise that the only difference between an earth tremor and an earthquake is the power involved. Most earth tremors aren't even felt, but, once they pass 2 on the scale they will be noted by some people. These earth movements are generally classified as tremors (and not earthquakes) up to 4 on the Richter Scale - at 4 everyone notices that the earth is moving.
What we have experienced here over the last few days is a number of tremors, a little bit stronger each day, but nothing to worry about. Of course, the fact that they are increasing does leave open the possibility that something stronger is coming, but we'll deal with that if and when it comes.
So what does an earth tremor feel like? Actually, it feels a little bit like being in a boat. There is a gentle swaying (light bulbs swing a little bit, water moves a little in the toilet, sometimes cracks can appear in some of the plasterwork). Coupled with this is a very strange sensation of losing balance (just a bit - in an earthquake it can be quite scary) and, interestingly, birds and animals appear to go silent.
An earthquake is a very unsettling experience, quite apart from the damage to life and property it may cause, it creates a feeling of insecurity and fear in those who experience it - when you think about it, if you are attacked or if something really awful happens, you can throw yourself on the floor as a last line of defence: in an earthquake this last line of defence is taken from you thus leaving you with a very strong sense of having been undermined, threatened, and insecure - that is, of course, provided that you are lucky enough not to be hit by something that is falling about you which is, obviously, where most of the very real danger lies.
So far today there has been no tremor, so let's hope it stays that way.
Earthquakes are measured by the Richter Scale, a system of seismographic measurement that was developed by Charles F. Richter of the California Institute of Technology in 1935. This scale measures quakes according to a system that is based on logarithms. Unlike most methods of measurement where increases in measurement indicate a linear growth, in Richter's logarithmic scale increases are much more dramatic.
Putting this in English: 2 on the Richter Scale is 31.7 times greater than 1. This means, that when we hear that an earthquake is measured as being 7.4 on the Richter Scale, that it is roughly twice as strong as one that measures 7.3.
I once found myself to be experiencing an earthquake that measured 5.8 on the Richter Scale: to give you an idea of the power of that earthquake, it was strong enough to throw me across the room. Just imagine the power behind some of the recent earthquakes that we have seen in different parts of the world that measured over 14 on the scale - a power beyond reckoning!!!
Many people don't realise that the only difference between an earth tremor and an earthquake is the power involved. Most earth tremors aren't even felt, but, once they pass 2 on the scale they will be noted by some people. These earth movements are generally classified as tremors (and not earthquakes) up to 4 on the Richter Scale - at 4 everyone notices that the earth is moving.
What we have experienced here over the last few days is a number of tremors, a little bit stronger each day, but nothing to worry about. Of course, the fact that they are increasing does leave open the possibility that something stronger is coming, but we'll deal with that if and when it comes.
So what does an earth tremor feel like? Actually, it feels a little bit like being in a boat. There is a gentle swaying (light bulbs swing a little bit, water moves a little in the toilet, sometimes cracks can appear in some of the plasterwork). Coupled with this is a very strange sensation of losing balance (just a bit - in an earthquake it can be quite scary) and, interestingly, birds and animals appear to go silent.
An earthquake is a very unsettling experience, quite apart from the damage to life and property it may cause, it creates a feeling of insecurity and fear in those who experience it - when you think about it, if you are attacked or if something really awful happens, you can throw yourself on the floor as a last line of defence: in an earthquake this last line of defence is taken from you thus leaving you with a very strong sense of having been undermined, threatened, and insecure - that is, of course, provided that you are lucky enough not to be hit by something that is falling about you which is, obviously, where most of the very real danger lies.
So far today there has been no tremor, so let's hope it stays that way.
Friday 22 February 2019
Longer liturgies
One of the things that is very noticeable when it comes to comparing Irish liturgies with those in Panama is that liturgies here are much longer. It is not that they are drawn out, it is simply that they are over when they are over. People here are not as concerned as Irish people tend to be with liturgies finishing within a determined time window - masses here, for example, tend to be much longer than in Ireland but people don't have any great issue with that.
Why are they longer? Firstly, there is much more singing. It is simply not the done thing here to have a mass without singing; and when they sing here they sing several verses of every song. Compare that to a weekday mass in Ireland and you can very easily see a contrast.
There is a wide variety of songs used here when it comes to singing and, what is very striking, is that the singing, while it may be led by a small choir, is done by everyone. In Panama a choir singing on behalf of the people is really only contenanced while the congregation is learning a new hymn. And new hymns are actively sought out here - Panamanians, in their parishes, tend to have quite a repetoire of hymns and older hymns are only sung rarely. This is quite different to Ireland where most of the hymns that tend to be sung are certainly not recently written. Another big contrast between the two churches is that in Panama any individual parish will vary the type of hymns to be sung quite a bit. With the exception of the parts of the mass (Lord Have Mercy, Holy Holy, Lamb of God etc) which don't change all that much, each parish will actively seek to vary the types of hymns (local rhythms, eucharistic, marian, charismatic, biblical etc).
One of the really lovely things here when it comes to singing is the way in which, in almost every eucharistic celebration, the psalm is sung. They normally stick to the text as it appears in the Lectionary but they have all sorts of psalm tones and tunes which are normally accompanied by the guitar - these are very beautiful and really help to reflect on the word of God.
Another reason that Panamanian liturgies tend to be longer is that there is a homily at each mass. Unlike Ireland, homilies here can be long (sometimes an hour or more) and can often cover a lot of material. Personally (and I know that a lot of Panamanians would agree with me), I think the homilies are often too long. Indeed, sometimes the length of the homily can be inversely proportional to the amount of time spent in preparing it (if less time is spent in preparation, the homily can be very long indeed) - the philosopher, Blaise Pascal, once wrote a very long letter to friend and, at the end of the letter he apologised for the length of the letter, saying that he hadn't had time to write a shorter one.
Of course, the real test of whether or not people find the liturgies long is how they react at the end. People here don't, at all, run for the door at the end of mass. In fact, many people come to mass with the express intention of spending a lot of time after mass meeting people, getting involved in activities, or even sharing food (especially on Sundays).
The daily mass in the seminary normally lasts just under an hour but twice this week, for example, it lasted an hour and a half - a nice rhythm if you are able to allow yourself to relax in to it (and if the heat and the mosquitos aren't getting to you).
Why are they longer? Firstly, there is much more singing. It is simply not the done thing here to have a mass without singing; and when they sing here they sing several verses of every song. Compare that to a weekday mass in Ireland and you can very easily see a contrast.
There is a wide variety of songs used here when it comes to singing and, what is very striking, is that the singing, while it may be led by a small choir, is done by everyone. In Panama a choir singing on behalf of the people is really only contenanced while the congregation is learning a new hymn. And new hymns are actively sought out here - Panamanians, in their parishes, tend to have quite a repetoire of hymns and older hymns are only sung rarely. This is quite different to Ireland where most of the hymns that tend to be sung are certainly not recently written. Another big contrast between the two churches is that in Panama any individual parish will vary the type of hymns to be sung quite a bit. With the exception of the parts of the mass (Lord Have Mercy, Holy Holy, Lamb of God etc) which don't change all that much, each parish will actively seek to vary the types of hymns (local rhythms, eucharistic, marian, charismatic, biblical etc).
One of the really lovely things here when it comes to singing is the way in which, in almost every eucharistic celebration, the psalm is sung. They normally stick to the text as it appears in the Lectionary but they have all sorts of psalm tones and tunes which are normally accompanied by the guitar - these are very beautiful and really help to reflect on the word of God.
Another reason that Panamanian liturgies tend to be longer is that there is a homily at each mass. Unlike Ireland, homilies here can be long (sometimes an hour or more) and can often cover a lot of material. Personally (and I know that a lot of Panamanians would agree with me), I think the homilies are often too long. Indeed, sometimes the length of the homily can be inversely proportional to the amount of time spent in preparing it (if less time is spent in preparation, the homily can be very long indeed) - the philosopher, Blaise Pascal, once wrote a very long letter to friend and, at the end of the letter he apologised for the length of the letter, saying that he hadn't had time to write a shorter one.
Of course, the real test of whether or not people find the liturgies long is how they react at the end. People here don't, at all, run for the door at the end of mass. In fact, many people come to mass with the express intention of spending a lot of time after mass meeting people, getting involved in activities, or even sharing food (especially on Sundays).
The daily mass in the seminary normally lasts just under an hour but twice this week, for example, it lasted an hour and a half - a nice rhythm if you are able to allow yourself to relax in to it (and if the heat and the mosquitos aren't getting to you).
Thursday 21 February 2019
Some people were disappointed...
As with everything in life, there is always someone who wishes things had gone otherwise. Very often this is just disappointment, but it can also be a case of sour grapes and, of course, how we view something will depend very much on what our role has been in organising and running it.
I have already mentioned that not everyone has been cock a hoop over JMJ - I don't know, I wasn't here, but the overall impression is that it was a great success although, as with all successes if we are honest, it was not an unqualified success.
It seems that one of the things that provoked a lot of frustration was the security surrounding the Pope during his visit. This was, of course, the local Panamanian security services with, I am sure, input from the Vatican's own police/ security personnel. However, many people seem to feel that the security was unecessarily heavy handed. I suppose we have to presume that the security people knew more than the person in the street but, nevertheless, some people did feel a bit trodden on or left out.
Such, it seems, was the case with some (many?) of the staff at the seminary. Special cooks were brought in for the Pope which was certainly a disappointment for the kitchen staff, but, as they say themselves, it meant they didn't have the pressure. However, the fact that the staff were coralled in the dining room (the Pope was to eat in the library which had been turned in to a dining room for the occasion - it has air conditioning while the normal dining room does not) and were not allowed to leave it, even to wave at the Holy Father as he passed. In fact, they barely saw him at all which was a pity.
The seminarians and academic and formation staff of the seminary also had their difficulties with the security personnel - coming and going from the building was very problematic and several of the seminarians had to be vouched for on more than one occasion, even for a number of days before the Pope had come at all. But, unlike the household staff, they all got to met the Pope and shake hands with him - except for one seminarian, Freddy, who had to be operated on for acute appendicitis just before the Pope came.
There is now, standing at the entrance to the chapel, a small tree in a pot which has a ribbon on the pot. This is not an effort to decorate the place. It was given by a benefactor of the seminary to be planted by the Pope during his visit - but the security men wouldn't allow it. Now they have a very large pot plant instead of having what could have been a growing reminder of the day the Pope came to the seminary - it really does seem as if the security people could have relaxed, even a little.
I have already mentioned that not everyone has been cock a hoop over JMJ - I don't know, I wasn't here, but the overall impression is that it was a great success although, as with all successes if we are honest, it was not an unqualified success.
It seems that one of the things that provoked a lot of frustration was the security surrounding the Pope during his visit. This was, of course, the local Panamanian security services with, I am sure, input from the Vatican's own police/ security personnel. However, many people seem to feel that the security was unecessarily heavy handed. I suppose we have to presume that the security people knew more than the person in the street but, nevertheless, some people did feel a bit trodden on or left out.
Such, it seems, was the case with some (many?) of the staff at the seminary. Special cooks were brought in for the Pope which was certainly a disappointment for the kitchen staff, but, as they say themselves, it meant they didn't have the pressure. However, the fact that the staff were coralled in the dining room (the Pope was to eat in the library which had been turned in to a dining room for the occasion - it has air conditioning while the normal dining room does not) and were not allowed to leave it, even to wave at the Holy Father as he passed. In fact, they barely saw him at all which was a pity.
The seminarians and academic and formation staff of the seminary also had their difficulties with the security personnel - coming and going from the building was very problematic and several of the seminarians had to be vouched for on more than one occasion, even for a number of days before the Pope had come at all. But, unlike the household staff, they all got to met the Pope and shake hands with him - except for one seminarian, Freddy, who had to be operated on for acute appendicitis just before the Pope came.
There is now, standing at the entrance to the chapel, a small tree in a pot which has a ribbon on the pot. This is not an effort to decorate the place. It was given by a benefactor of the seminary to be planted by the Pope during his visit - but the security men wouldn't allow it. Now they have a very large pot plant instead of having what could have been a growing reminder of the day the Pope came to the seminary - it really does seem as if the security people could have relaxed, even a little.
Wednesday 20 February 2019
There are Testimonies and there are Testimonies...
I wrote yesterday about World Youth Day. It is fair to say that it was a huge success, but not without its challenges and setbacks. Central and South America are not world leaders in organisation so one of the things that had to be overcome in the lead up to the event was to convince people that not only could Panama host the event, but that it could be the huge success that it turned out to be.
Today I spent some time with Fr. Justo Rivas who is a priest of the Archdiocese of Panama. Justo, who is a former student of mine in the seminary, was one of the main local organisers of the events leading up to, and during, World Youth Day. He told me today that, even with two weeks to go, there were many things that still had not been put in place. In fact, it was the young people who saved the day - they organised themselves into groups of volunteers to take on all sorts of tasks.
Justo told me of two of the most interesting "testimonies" that were heard during the evet. One young man (I'll call him Iván) was from a middle-income family which was just about managing. When his father lost his job due to the firm closing down, Iván and the rest of the family found themselves to be in very straightened times, often not having enough to eat. His family was disintegrating before his eyes and Iván knew that he would have to get money somehow. Unfortunately, as is the case with so many people (and not just young people) throughout the world, Iván made choices that turned out to be disastrous, not only for him, but for many people.
He began to deal drugs for some of the local gangsters. Initially, all seemed to go well but, as time went on, Iván gradually became his own best customer and became hopelessly hooked on the very drugs he was selling to others. This, of course, led to a spiralling decline which brought him, very quickly, to the attention of the courts and, ultimately, to jail. Jails are never nice places but, especially in South America and Central America, they can be places of extreme violence where gangs rule and life is cheap. However, Iván got help while in jail and, on his release, was introduced to the people at the St. John Paul II Centre who have supported him while he got off the drugs and into employment - in his testimony he highlighted the fact that if it hadn't beeen for the help he received from people he met along the way, he would not now be alive.
Another testimony, somewhat different, that was heard during the World Youth Day event wasn't one that formed part of the event itself - it was in a new bulletin. Another young man, let's call him Carlos, was interviewed and he proclaimed himself to be a thief and petty criminal. In the interview he told listeners that he and the members of his "guild" would not be active during the Papal visit so people need not fear - they would not be robbed. In fact, during the whole event, only one pilgrim was robbed and the courts sent out a clear message by sentencing him to 12 years in prison. Carlos was true to his word. In fact, he was true to his word in more than one way because he also told listeners that once the Pope was gone it would be back to business as usual and that he and his "guild" would "take it off you once again": and so it was, immediately after the Pope had left, criminality returned to the level it had been at before he came.
Today I spent some time with Fr. Justo Rivas who is a priest of the Archdiocese of Panama. Justo, who is a former student of mine in the seminary, was one of the main local organisers of the events leading up to, and during, World Youth Day. He told me today that, even with two weeks to go, there were many things that still had not been put in place. In fact, it was the young people who saved the day - they organised themselves into groups of volunteers to take on all sorts of tasks.
Justo told me of two of the most interesting "testimonies" that were heard during the evet. One young man (I'll call him Iván) was from a middle-income family which was just about managing. When his father lost his job due to the firm closing down, Iván and the rest of the family found themselves to be in very straightened times, often not having enough to eat. His family was disintegrating before his eyes and Iván knew that he would have to get money somehow. Unfortunately, as is the case with so many people (and not just young people) throughout the world, Iván made choices that turned out to be disastrous, not only for him, but for many people.
He began to deal drugs for some of the local gangsters. Initially, all seemed to go well but, as time went on, Iván gradually became his own best customer and became hopelessly hooked on the very drugs he was selling to others. This, of course, led to a spiralling decline which brought him, very quickly, to the attention of the courts and, ultimately, to jail. Jails are never nice places but, especially in South America and Central America, they can be places of extreme violence where gangs rule and life is cheap. However, Iván got help while in jail and, on his release, was introduced to the people at the St. John Paul II Centre who have supported him while he got off the drugs and into employment - in his testimony he highlighted the fact that if it hadn't beeen for the help he received from people he met along the way, he would not now be alive.
Another testimony, somewhat different, that was heard during the World Youth Day event wasn't one that formed part of the event itself - it was in a new bulletin. Another young man, let's call him Carlos, was interviewed and he proclaimed himself to be a thief and petty criminal. In the interview he told listeners that he and the members of his "guild" would not be active during the Papal visit so people need not fear - they would not be robbed. In fact, during the whole event, only one pilgrim was robbed and the courts sent out a clear message by sentencing him to 12 years in prison. Carlos was true to his word. In fact, he was true to his word in more than one way because he also told listeners that once the Pope was gone it would be back to business as usual and that he and his "guild" would "take it off you once again": and so it was, immediately after the Pope had left, criminality returned to the level it had been at before he came.
Tuesday 19 February 2019
Feedback on World Youth Day
Any mention of Panama during this year cannot fail to make mention of the recent visit of Pope
Francis to lead the celebrations for World Youth Day. Certainly, the feedback from this event is largely positive here (like ourselves, they too have the naysayers) and people seem to have got a lot out of the whole occasion.
World Youth Day, as you probably know, is an event that takes place every years and it moves from country to country as it is celebrated. A large cross is presented at the closing mass by the host country to the young people from the country that will host it next, in three years time. This year Panama handed over the baton (cross) to Portugal who will host the next World Youth Day in 2022. Even though it seems a long way off, preparations will need to get underway to be able to cope with the huge numbers of young people from all around the world who attend these events.
It is estimated that approximately 300,000 young people participated in this years event: however, of that number less than 100,000 officially registered (the larger number is based not only on those who attended the various elements of the event, but also on the numbers who arrived at the airports and border crossings).
While failure to register officially might have seemed like a great idea to the young people who were, most likely, on a limited budget, the fact that they didn't pay the registration fee (in fairness, not a large sum) means that the costs arising from the event, and remaining to be paid, are much higher than anticipated. The overall figure for hosting WYD (called, in Spanish, JMJ) varies, depending on whom you are talking to - it goes from 20,000,000 to 50,000,000 dollars. A lot of that will have been spent on security (of which, apparently, there was a huge amount), infrastructure (roads had to be resurfaced to cope with the huge amounts of traffic; public toilets, confessionals etc), and publicity. It is worth noting that the Archdiocese here didn't employ extra people to deal with the organisation of the event - it was all done by those already working for the diocese, the parishes and parishioners, local institutions and individuals who volunteered - a real army of people, as you can imagine.
It is also interesting to note that a large part of the overall cost will be met by the Panamanian Government - infrastructure projects are obviously down to them, but, significantly, the government saw the possibilites for this event to be a chance to launch Panama to the world as a destination for both tourism and business - watch this space!!!
 |
| Front of main seminary building |
World Youth Day, as you probably know, is an event that takes place every years and it moves from country to country as it is celebrated. A large cross is presented at the closing mass by the host country to the young people from the country that will host it next, in three years time. This year Panama handed over the baton (cross) to Portugal who will host the next World Youth Day in 2022. Even though it seems a long way off, preparations will need to get underway to be able to cope with the huge numbers of young people from all around the world who attend these events.
It is estimated that approximately 300,000 young people participated in this years event: however, of that number less than 100,000 officially registered (the larger number is based not only on those who attended the various elements of the event, but also on the numbers who arrived at the airports and border crossings).
 |
| Left over cofessionals |
 | |||
| Confessionals were made to look like the JMJ logo |
 |
| Close-up of confessional |
While failure to register officially might have seemed like a great idea to the young people who were, most likely, on a limited budget, the fact that they didn't pay the registration fee (in fairness, not a large sum) means that the costs arising from the event, and remaining to be paid, are much higher than anticipated. The overall figure for hosting WYD (called, in Spanish, JMJ) varies, depending on whom you are talking to - it goes from 20,000,000 to 50,000,000 dollars. A lot of that will have been spent on security (of which, apparently, there was a huge amount), infrastructure (roads had to be resurfaced to cope with the huge amounts of traffic; public toilets, confessionals etc), and publicity. It is worth noting that the Archdiocese here didn't employ extra people to deal with the organisation of the event - it was all done by those already working for the diocese, the parishes and parishioners, local institutions and individuals who volunteered - a real army of people, as you can imagine.
It is also interesting to note that a large part of the overall cost will be met by the Panamanian Government - infrastructure projects are obviously down to them, but, significantly, the government saw the possibilites for this event to be a chance to launch Panama to the world as a destination for both tourism and business - watch this space!!!
Monday 18 February 2019
Return to Panama 2019
It seems like an absolute age since I was last in Panama, and last writing this blog. In fact, it is a little under a year, but it never ceases to surprise me how much the contrast between my normal day to day life in Limerick and life here strikes me.
This year my journey here was quite a stressful one. Apart from all the usual things associated with travelling, I had a rather nasty surprise awaiting me in Madrid when I went to check in for my flight and was told that there was no seat on the plane for me. I think that this is the sort of thing that many of us would find both frustrating and difficult. Added to the bald announcement that it was unlikely that I would be able to fly was added the fact that the Iberia employee with whom I was dealing (who until then had been very friendly) now refused to even look at me and just waved vaguely in the direction of the departure gates, declaring in a mumbled voice that only the people at the departure gate could possibly offer me any hope.
Anyway, I set out for the departure gate only to discover that it took me almost 40 minutes to get there - Barajas, Madrid's airport, underwent a multi-million euro facelift in recent years which has transformed it from being a rather uncomfortable, low-ceilinged, and dark place, into a high-ceilinged, modern, chaotic mess. At least, with the old airport, it was always easy enough to figure out where you were supposed to be: now, with the new "imporvements", I doubt that even Harry Potter would be able to figure out what doors to go through and what to avoid.
When I eventually arrived at the departure gate the Iberia employee I met was very charming but said that nothing could be done - I would have to wait until everyone else had boarded and then, if there was space, I would be allowed to get on. Eventually, after a long wait, they did let me on and, I can tell you, I was greatly relieved!!!
I had booked through an independent travel website (which I won't name here) which I had normally found to be reliable in the past - now, I'm not so sure.
The flight turned out to be 10 and a half hours long (I had been expecting 9 - I realise it's not much of a difference, but those last 90 minutes really do make it feel much longer.
I arrived, feeling very tired, but at least I got here, and was welcomed by the Rector of Seminario Mayor San José (St Joseph's Major Seminary) where I will be spending the next two months; he was accompanied by a seminarian I taught last year so we had great catching up in the car.
There have been some internet issues so I am only getting going on the blog now, but, for the moment, I'll sign off. Tomorrow I'll share with you some of my impressions of the reactions locally to the recent Papal visit.
This year my journey here was quite a stressful one. Apart from all the usual things associated with travelling, I had a rather nasty surprise awaiting me in Madrid when I went to check in for my flight and was told that there was no seat on the plane for me. I think that this is the sort of thing that many of us would find both frustrating and difficult. Added to the bald announcement that it was unlikely that I would be able to fly was added the fact that the Iberia employee with whom I was dealing (who until then had been very friendly) now refused to even look at me and just waved vaguely in the direction of the departure gates, declaring in a mumbled voice that only the people at the departure gate could possibly offer me any hope.
Anyway, I set out for the departure gate only to discover that it took me almost 40 minutes to get there - Barajas, Madrid's airport, underwent a multi-million euro facelift in recent years which has transformed it from being a rather uncomfortable, low-ceilinged, and dark place, into a high-ceilinged, modern, chaotic mess. At least, with the old airport, it was always easy enough to figure out where you were supposed to be: now, with the new "imporvements", I doubt that even Harry Potter would be able to figure out what doors to go through and what to avoid.
When I eventually arrived at the departure gate the Iberia employee I met was very charming but said that nothing could be done - I would have to wait until everyone else had boarded and then, if there was space, I would be allowed to get on. Eventually, after a long wait, they did let me on and, I can tell you, I was greatly relieved!!!
I had booked through an independent travel website (which I won't name here) which I had normally found to be reliable in the past - now, I'm not so sure.
The flight turned out to be 10 and a half hours long (I had been expecting 9 - I realise it's not much of a difference, but those last 90 minutes really do make it feel much longer.
I arrived, feeling very tired, but at least I got here, and was welcomed by the Rector of Seminario Mayor San José (St Joseph's Major Seminary) where I will be spending the next two months; he was accompanied by a seminarian I taught last year so we had great catching up in the car.
There have been some internet issues so I am only getting going on the blog now, but, for the moment, I'll sign off. Tomorrow I'll share with you some of my impressions of the reactions locally to the recent Papal visit.
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