I Woke Up In a Priest`s Clothing

I was spending a cold, dreary evening in the parish library when Padre came in and began setting up a makeshift bar. He was to host a biannual reunion of his classmates from seminary school and in the other room, a group of church ladies were hand-rolling tortillas and frying up tacos. He invited me to stay and mingle with his friends and eat and drink as I pleased.

``Este es tu casa.`` (This is your house.)

Knowing that I would be out of place amongst two dozen priests who have known each other for thirty years, I figured Padre was just being kind by asking me to stay. But the idea of witnessing such a reunion was intriguing to me and I figured a could use a night out (albeit in a parish) because things recently ended between me and the guy I had been seeing and I felt a little depressed. I decided that I dole out enough acts of kindness so that things would balance out if I were to accept one.

At the beginning of the event, I noticed Padre and one of the first arrivals carrying around small, circular marble objects. I thought that they were performing some sort of pray involving candles. It turned out that they were carrying around special shot glasses designed to enhance the flavor of tequila.

Padre`s friends were an interesting group. Some were philosophers and professors who spent their times locked away in ivory towers while others had traveled the world. I heard stories of helping street children as well as running the streets in triathlons.

As the night went on, it got much colder. Though people think of Mexico as being tropical, Mexico City can be quite chilly and when it is, it is made worse by the fact that there is no indoor heating. Padre lent me his sweater and Gallo let me borrow his sheepskin vest and gloves. Arriving home after midnight to a freezing house where everybody was already asleep, I went to bed in all of my acquired clothing.

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Despite the joys of tequila and tacos, heartache is still hard to get rid of, particularly in a foreign country. Rejection hurts and here is it was made worse by the fact that I have had trouble in general making connections with people here. A burgeoning romance made me feel more like I was fitting in with the community.

Worse, I felt guilty for getting worked up over some guy since I`m here to help others and grow spiritually and not obsess over my love life. At work I am surrounded by people with much graver afflictions than my own, so how can I feel bad about my own problems? However, my own loneliness made me emphasize much more with patients who have been abandoned by their families so sometimes my workdays seemed almost unbearably sad.

I spent some disheartening days at work sitting by the bedsides of older girls and praying the Hail Mary and asking that my suffering could relieve theirs. Then one morning a few days ago, I went to work with the young children. Paulina (who was kept out of school due to being sick) immediately sat in my lap and ended up falling asleep. I spent the morning letting her rest in my arms. In the afternoon, when I visited with the older girls in their bedroom, Neddy squealed with happiness when I walked and she smiled as I sat on her bed, holding her hand and eating popcorn while talking about nonsense.

These simple moments made me realize how blessed I am. It is hard to find people who want you and love you for nothing more than your presence and yet I constantly encounter. While I may be lacking a novio, there are plenty of people who are eager for and accepting of my attention.

Thus, right now Mexico is about offering love as best as I can, accepting it in unconventional ways (from the wardrobes of church members), and learning to recognize it.