When Kelsey and I entered the que of people heading for Cartago, I couldn't help but think about those opening lines from the Canterbury Tales.
Whan that Aprill, with his shoures soote
The droghte of March hath perced to the roote...
We joined an immense crowd of people, walking from as far away as Nicaragua to the little town of Cartago, where there is a basillica built around a small black statue of the Virgin Mary.
Here's the story:
In 1635, in the area around what is now Cartago, the mestizo population was segregated from the rest of society, and by law, were not allowed to live outside their tiny ghetto, and were not allowed to marry outside of their own race. Mestizo's, of course, were the mixed-blood result of the Spanish conquistadors joining with the native indian population.
It happened one day that a young mestizo woman went outside the barrio in order to gather wood in the forest. Nearing a spring-fed stream, she saw a little black stone madonna, baby Jesus in arm, sitting atop a rock.
The young woman thought it too precious an object to be left in the forest and so took it home and put it in a chest for safe keeping. The next day, since she had been so preoccupied with the statue that she had forgotten the wood, she returned to the forest, and there, on the same rock, was another black stone madonna. Well, she couldn't just leave it there, so she took it home to place in the chest with the other madonna, but when she opened the chest, there was no other madonna.
She figured someone was playing a trick on her. She locked the chest.
The next day she went back to the forest, and there was the madonna, on the same rock.
Now she was a bit frighened. She took the madonna to her home and opened the chest, and found no madonna there.
The monsignor of the big church seemed her only hope. She ran with the madonna to him and told him what had happened. The monsignor humored her, thinking that she was telling a tale. He took the madonna and locked it safely within the sacristy of the church.
But when the young woman returned to the forest, there was the little black madonna. And when she returned with it to the church, the monsignor realized that a miracle had occured. The madonna had disappeared from the sacristy.
Instead of moving the madonna again, he ordered that a church be erected around it, and that is where it sits today, beneath a portico of the church, and the water that comes from beneath the rock is said to have healing powers. Pilgrims come to the basillica regularly.
But on August 2, the little town is overrun by pilgrims who come to celebrate the La Virgin de Angeles de Costa Rica, and this is, other than Christmas and the Day of the Children, the most sacred celebration for the country of Costa Rica.
And we were part of it!
We began our walk just north of the school on the main road between Curridabat and Cartago. We were not alone. Thousands flooded the left-hand side of the road which had been cordoned off to allow for the foot traffic.
Cartago sits in the valley on the other side of the mountain, which meant that our entire trek was uphill. We are not quite sure of the distance, but it is 14-15kilometers. So about 10 miles. We did the distance in just over 3 1/2 hours.
We were certainly tired, but so gratified to have been able to be a part of this great festival.
The basillica itself is beautiful. Not huge, but so beautifully made. The interior looks to me like a Russian Orthodox church and is all of polished woods of different kinds.
Once inside, the pilgrims fall to their knees and go the length of the church, many with tears streaming down their faces. Some dragging crutches, or helping others who cannot move themselves. It was truly a moving experience to be a part of it.
I know that it is easy to take the whole thing with a grain of salt, but it still amazes me the direction and depth and variety of spiritual journeys upon which people may embark. Whether or not you or I believe the story is of no consequence. What counts here (as in the pilgimages to Mecca or the wailing wall in Jerusalem, etc.) is the depth of faith for those who make the pilgimage and for whom it is truly a sacred moment - one of those 'thin places' where the eternal and the temporal seem to almost meet.
For Kelsey and I it was a wonderful moment to share, and I was so glad to be a part of it.
We took the bus home!
We were not alone in that enterprise either. When we got to the bus station I asked one of the transportation officials there if this was the bus right bus to take to Curridabat. He said yes, and that we just needed to get in the line. We followed the line all the way around the blcok til we were almost at the place I had asked the questions. There we joined the line. It was like queing up for a rock concert. The time passed quickly, however, as it always does when you have good company and enlivened coversation. Before long we were seated and headed home, going past the throngs still crowding the road on their way to the little town.
Today, I'm sure, it will be crowded beyond all comprehension, because this is THE national holiday and everyone who couldn't make it because of work or other obligations will make the trek today, where the cardinal will do several misas and the faithful will be part of something much larger than themselves.
On Sunday Kelsey wanted to go to church, so I persuaded Nury to take us to the Catholic Church of San Bosco, located on a high school campus. I had been there before and loved the atmosphere. The padre, Guido Marucio, is younger (mid to late 40's) and service itself filled with praise songs and children - lots and lots of children. The padre engages the congregation in dialogue during his sermon, which always has a lot of funny moments. Nury doesn't particularly like the service. It's a little 'non-traditional' for her, but she accomodated us and we both loved it. It was Kelsey's first time to attend a Catholic service, so it was doubly interesting.
Different people read the scriptures for the day. A young girl read the epistle portion. She looked straight at the audience the whole time. It was when they helped her off-stage that we realized she was blind, and had been reading from a braille bible. She read with such passion and conviction. Truly moving.
After the service, on the taxi-ride home, Nury said, "Rick, would you like to go to lunch with me at Orietta's house." "Sure, why not," I answered, having nothing else planned for the afternoon. And off we went, Kelsey in tow, as though she had agreed as well. I asked Kelsey if she was OK with this, and she thought it would be fun.
Remember when I told you about the biddies of Costa Rica?
Sunday was a replay in I-max!
This time there were a couple of other friends, and the conversation was loud, and long, and extremely funny. After a while the cranked up some music on the computer and, oh yes, there was dancing. I'm surprised any of us can walk today. I have not laughed so hard in a long time. And they spoke very little English. So I must be getting a lot better because I understood most of what when on, though some of it was said specifically to keep me in the dark, I suspect.
I have said before that hospitality is just a way of life here. We got there at a little before 1:00 and finally at 6:30 Kelsey said she probably ought be let her host family know she was alive and well. Nury said, "Just one more beer and we'll go." This time she was good for her word.
On the way home she asked Kelsey if she and her host mom would like to join us for dinner on Wednesay. It should be fun. But it won't just us. Today she told me she thought Elbe (her sister) and Grace (a friend) will join us. Maybe Vicky and Orietta as well. Who know who else!
They make you feel so comfortable. Treat you as one of the family. What a gracious and loving people. They may not have a lot, but whatever they have is meant to be shared. And they do it with such gusto and joy.
What a great weekend so far.
And today we have no class because of the holiday, and no plans. That will change.
I have a good feeling about today.
Hasta luego, mis amigos. Vaya con Dios.
Your Pilgrim in Process
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