Thunderstorm II

It is 9.00pm in the evening here in Geneva. The rain is pouring steadily down, a prelude to another night of rolling thunder and lightning rending the skies. For my own sake, I hope it is not so. I don't want another sleepless night.

I went to work this morning over at the Franciscans. The place is slowly getting back to work after the holidays. It has that beginning of term feeling. There are meetings of a planning sort going on. As the new boy I am not participating in any these just yet. I expect I will once John and the main players come back next week. We had our Wednesday prayer today. MPK would be pleased. It was straight up. Mike O'Neill who led the prayer is an environmentalist so he was saving on paper. We just had one set of sheets which was passed around. The theme was Harvest Blessings. A plate of Autumn fruits was set in front of each person. At various points during the prayer we sampled the fruits. Now there's an idea for Synge Street.

I tried to do two things this afternoon. Get a Swisscom SIM card and purchase a monthly travel pass. Failed in both. The travel pass requires one to have a passport photograph. There are three in the railway station. About a million teenagers on back-to-school business were also on a similar quest. Against that lot I lost out. When I finally got to a machine, I found it only accepted coins and I had just notes in my pocket. Arrgh! As for the SIM card. I have yet to see a phone shop. Where is Camden Street when you need it!

So I came home to the apartment and set to work putting it to rights. I hauled some funiture around to create the beginning of a community room. There is a TV but the cable is dead, frayed and looks like it was chewed by a dog. There is a small Hi-FI system that has nothing attached. Dead. And in addition there are two bunk beds that are pretty immovable. Moy Hitchen will have to sleep there when he comes. But I did succeed in setting up lights, moving a set of shelves. Another week, a few lights, candles and some pictures and it won't be too bad. Who said Geneva has to be drab!

Supper this evening consisted of the second half of my steak. Meat is expensive here, I'm finding out. I also had rosti, sort of hash browns. Very popular in Switzerland and easy to cook. Spuds just don't seem to exist in their native form. Maybe they take too much energy to cook.

I'm going to ask Colm Griffey to provide Michael Murray with a few small Edmund Rice items. I need to have a connection with the congregational spirit.

There is a church nearby. German-speaking Dominican parish. I tried to get in the church this morning. It appeared to be locked. Will try again over the week-end. Parish of St. Boniface. Across the Circus Square is another parish, the Latin American Spanish parish of St. Gabriel. Choices, choices, choices.

Thunderstorm

I am at work today in the Franciscan International/Edmund Rice International offices at 37-39 rue de Vermont.

Hardly any sleep last night. An Alpine thunderstorm welcomed me to Geneva. I have never experienced anything like it. For about three hours it crashed, rolled and flashed overhead. The lightning strikes lit up the night sky and some, I'm convinced, landed in the yard behind the apartment. It was a hot, muggy night so I wasn't sleeping well anyway. The storm really put paid to any chance of sleeping until about four in the morning.

I am shocked to hear that MPK is moving to Wexford. Synge Street is emptying out. Does this mean Dan is coming back?

Finally, just to update you on the Circus. I saw the horses being exercised this morning. How boring for them. They just trotted in a circle all morning. Do they really enjoy this? Where are the animal rights people when one needs them.

Geneva Arrival

Well, it has finally happened! I am now in Geneva - definitively. No longer the prospect of going home after a few days. No more the luxury of the Franciscan friary or the Mon Repos Hotel. I am now ensconced in 19 avenue de Maine, in the Plainpalais district. Did I mention that the apartment is called the Circus Apartment? No, well, that is what it is called. Number 19 is in between the hairdressers and the key-cutting shop in the Plainpalais district. And, right on cue, the Circus has arrived in town right opposite my apartment. It is the KNIE circus. With luck I hope to avoid it. Although I do see some of the animals parading around the enclosure.

Mike Hasenmueller met me at the airport. We got a taxi into town. It cost 50 CHF, about 34 EUR. Steep, but, hey, this is Geneva. And that included the tip. We had some difficulty getting in to the apartment because Mike did not know the code. He had to call on the phone. After he left I surveyed my surroundings. It is pretty basic. Not one single comfortable chair for napping in. There is a set of plastic garden chairs like the ones you see all over Africa, India and Latin America. This is the Justice apartment after all.

Not for long. I went out to make my first purchases: one expresso coffee machine, two cushions in red imitation velour, some gruyere cheese, organge juice, a piece of steak, potatoes and some muesli. These items have begun to fill up the empty space in the food larder. Yes, I also got some milke, the UHT type. My local "tabac" did not have the real thing.

The apartment has Internet and it is quite fast. So Skype should work just fine. If anyone feels inclined to Skype me.

I cooked my steak this evening, halving it so that I have a piece for tomorrow. The spuds took an age. And were still not "done". The Swiss don't eat potatoes. They prefer chocolate, cheese and fondues. Heidi food!

I did listen to Radio Suisse Romande, a lecture on the nature of happiness according to Spinoza and Kant. I need to listen to a lot of this high-brow French if I am to get by. I strayed into a bookstore earlier in the evening and was eyed up and down by a suspicious bookseller. It was my canary yellow Hermanos Cristianos polo shirt that did not fit. It looks out of place here. The Swiss prefer drab.

So this is how the new EUP community begins! A preference for drab.

Unsung Heroes

When one thinks of Cardinal Newman College in Buenos Aires one can be forgiven for thinking that it is a prestigious Christian Brother institution with a remarkable reputation for achievement in academics and sports. It is all of these. But it is also more. Since I’ve been here I’ve come to know Newman as a remarkable community of people. There was a time when I myself strove to facilitate a community of teachers and learns in a context of mutual respect, inclusion and commitment. Here, I see this ideal in action.

It is in no small measure due to the leadership of the current Head, Alberto Olivera. Alberto is a lawyer, has a Masters degree in Education and has wide connections withe the Buenos Aires legal, educational and social justice community. He has facilitated in recent years the deepening of Newman’s connection with the local community and the city. His interest in social justice is clear and his commitment to its promotion shows itself in the support he offers to a wide range of initiatives.

Newman boys work with children with disabilities, the elderly and with people in the local barrio, La Cava. Each year they mount a two-week mission in the interior of the country where they assist in catechetics and evangelisation among the poor of a city called Azul. The mothers of Newman are active in providing clothing and food to poor people living in a rural barrio outside the city. Newman has developed a relationship with businesses in the city and through this relationship has established a food bank. They even have a special NGO for this work called “Teniendo Puentes”, building bridges. What is very clear is that Newman has developed a strong ethos of solidarity with the poor that is quite remarkable. So, when you think of Newman, don’t just think “rugby”, think also “solidarity”.

Of course, all of this did not happen in the last two or three years. There are some remarkable people here in Newman. Among them are people like Jim Doherty and Paddy (“Pablo”) Keohane. Jim goes out to the poorer barrios delivering food supplies and making contact with the local people. I had the privilege of accompanying him on one such visit. Pablo Keohane is a one-person NGO, retreat-team, youth organisation and spiritual guide. His influence on the boys is unparalleled in my experience. He is active 24/7 with the boys helping them with retreats, leading the mission teams, working with them in their social justice projects, and generally being available to them.

When I asked Alberto Olivera, the headmaster, to what he would attribute the strong social service ethos of Newman, he replied without hesitation: “Brother Paul”.

Throughout the Latin American Region of the Christian Brothers there are many people who are unsung heroes and genuine pathfinders for a new way of being Brother today. People like Paul Keohane are certainly among them.

Battle Weary and Exhausted

I am within a few days of leaving Argentina for home. I am counting down the days and looking forward to going back. I can feel the exhaustion and the battle fatigue. This week has been exceptionally busy. Because Newman is a school with so many different groups, there were lots of meetings and presentations. Yesterday, I gave a presentation on Solidarity with the Poor to the Third Year students, about seventy in total. The event took place in the Library. As usual, I had prepared carefully and was fully multimedia operational. I even included a photograph of Felilpe Contepomi to gain some favour with the home side. The presentation went down well and I got a very warm applause response at the end. But it was hard work.

Yesterday, I visited one of the worst slums in Latin America, a place called La Cava. A teacher from the school, Silvia, came with us as a translator. She had never been in this slum before. We walked precariously on stepping stones over the flowing rivers of sewage and tred our way warily in the narrow alleys of the slum. We were accompanied by Padre Annif, the Abbe Pierre of the La Cava slum, without whose protection we would not have lasted five minutes in the place. It was an education. Sheer, harsh grinding poverty is smelly, filthy, diseased and,yet, somehow human despite the misery. It is hard to explain at times.



One of the ironies of the situation is that teachers from Newman visited Zambia this Easter to immerse themselves in the experience of third-world poverty. Here was poverty on a scale that equals if not exceeds that of some of the worst African slums, and it is only about two miles from the school. Few Newman people set foot in this place. However, what also needs to be said is that under the leadership of Alberto Olivera, the current principal of the college, Newman is becoming a place of strong social commitment and the college is bringing a great deal of intelligent social action to bear on the problems. I have been impressed day after day with the different forms of social solidarity that have been initiated by the school. We have nothing on this scale in Ireland. Period. A lot of credit has to go to Paddy Keohane who has done so much to conscientise the students of Newman.

Earlier this week I had meetings with Raúl Vinuesa, an international jurist currently sitting on the International Court of Justice in the Hague. I also met with Emilio Cardena, former Argentine Ambassador to the United Nations, and current Co-Chair of the International Bar Association. These are heavy hitters, to use the jargon. Everywhere I am receiving the same message. Liberation theology is dead, and deserves to be dead. Now all the discussion and thinking is about an integral non-political vision of human rights and social justice. It will take me some time to come to terms with this. But I have heard the same message from so many people that there is clearly a basis for this new way of thinking. Most recently, the Latin American bishops gathered at Aparecida gave voice to this "nuevo camino". There is no longer any allegiance to what we used to call the "preferential option for the poor". This is considered here to smack too much of ideological thinking. Still, I notice that there are references to the concept in the Aparecida document from CELAM V.

We had an extended supper last night in the community with a lively discussion fueled by a few bottles of Malbec wine. Present were Stan Hayes from Woodford, County Galway, Jim Doherty from Oldcastle, County Meath, and Ferdi Foley from Tipperary. Paddy Keohane and tom O'Connell live in another house although they both work in Newman.

I am resigning myself to the fact that I shall probably leave Buenos Aires without having seen the city and without having seen the River Plate. I was to have gone to Montevideo this week but the airports were socked in by dense fog. And neither airport has the advanced radar to permit operations during fog.

Roll on Wednesday when I arrive back in Dublin.

Buenos Aires at Last!

Well, I am on the last leg of my swing through America Latina. I arrived here in Buenos Aires from Asuncion. The airport run in Asuncion was without incident. It took about forty minutes in the dawdling traffic of a slow Asuncion Saturday. The airport is tiny. No milling crowds. There were only two flights last night, one to Sao Paulo and the other, mine, a TAM flight to Buenos Aires.

It was a clear moonlit night and I had the aisle seat. The moon was full, a harvest moon, and it spread a silver sheen on the waters of the Rio Parana that flows into the Rio de la Plata. I was fascinated watching the occasional flash of moon on water as we flew down to Buenos Aires. The whole area is a web of rivers, meanderings, and lakes. I am looking forward to my first real sight of the Rio de la Plata today.

Ferdi Foley met me of the flight. The new pro-tourism policy of the Argentinian Government meant that for once I was first out of the tiny tourist immigration line. No problems. My bag arrived quickly. Since arriving in America Latina I take the precaution of availing of the pleastic wrap service at the airports to prevent interference with my bag. It costs from $6 to $8 but the peace of mine is well worth the small outlay. The machine effectively shrink wraps the case in blue plastic. It would take determination and a sharp knife to get through it.

Buenos Aires from the air is a sight to behold. It is an enormous city by any standards. Twelve million people live here. The first shock was on the ride across the city to the house. It was like being back in Europe, fast motorway lanes, toll booths, tall buildings, neon signs and a sense of order and purpose. Not a shanty town in sight.

An even bigger shock awaits you when you arrive at Colegio Cardinal Newman. There is a sprucely uniformed young man to open the door. The place positively gleams and the smell of polish hangs in the air. Once inside the Brother's residence, one could be forgiven for thinking that one was back in Ireland. The language is English and the conversation is about home. I have been speaking Spanish so much in the last few weeks that it was difficult for me to switch over at first.

In the house at present are Jim Doherty, Ferdi Foley and Stan Hayes. Hubert Wall is in Israel. Paddy Keohane was at table but he lives in another house. A priest from Doon was staying overnight before flying off this morning. Which means that we got Mass in bright and early at 8.00 o'clock.

Juan Casey was also in the house. He left this morning for the airport with the SVD priest. Juan is flying back this morning to Cochabamba, not a direct flight since he will be on the ground in Asuncion for about thirty minutes.

This week I am crossing the Rio de la Plata to Montevideo with Ferdi Foley. It should be an interesting experience, crossing the wide expanse of water that was the location for the famous duel between the HMS Hood and the Bismarck during WWII.

Twenty Years in Paraguay

Last night there was a modest celebration here of twenty years of the Brothers in Paraguay. It was organised by the Comunidad: Kevin, Jack, Carlos, Miguel, Luis Henriquez and Williams. People from the Banada were invited, catechists, volunteers, Familia Edmundo Rice. Some from the prison ministry were also present, as were a few ex-Brothers in the area.

Music was provided by Carlos, Luis Henriquez and Williams. Carlos is a North American Brothers working with Miguel in prison ministry. Luis Henriquez and Williams are postulants.

There was a simple ceremony involving a symbolic eucharistic sharing. Eduardo McArdle spoke of his memories of the Banada in the early days, about the coming of Brothers such as Paddy Keohane, Bob McAteer, Roger O´Donohue and Joe Tynan. He referred to his first impressions of the Banada, the flooding, the animals, the hens, the horse and carts, the modest houses. He mentioned the drowning of a catechist in the river. And he also recalled the great flood in the 1990s when the Banada was overwhelmed. Some people were in tears as these memories came alive again. Eduardo was very moved himself. He is a man much loved by the people.

Miguel spoke about the prison ministry and how it struggled in the early years.. He recalled the famous fire when the education block was burned. Thirteen prisoners died in that fire. It is an enduring memory for Miguel. So many of the prisoners are from the Banada barrio.

Jack Casey spoke about the Founder and how his story relates to the reality of the people here in Paraguay today. Jack is very committed to the Comunidades de Base. The Banada is very lucky to have Jack and also the main driver behind the whole project, Dominican priest, Padre Pedro from Leon in Spain. I met Pedro during the week, a highly intelligent, energetic and personable Spaniard. Latin America needs more Pedros.

Kevin had written a beautiful Eucharistic Prayer which would have made Michael Morwood proud. After the eucharistic sharing gifts were presented to all in the form of new T-shirts celebrating the Twenty Years of the Christian Brothers in Paraguay.

This was followed by a feast which included chorizos, empanadas, pizza and assorted salads. There was wine and beer. No Latin American fiesta is complete without music and dancing. So the guitars came out and the stars twinkled over the barrio as the Banada celebrated its love for the Brothers. A magical night for all.