Today marks the 2 week anniversary of the final mass of WYD 2011 in Madrid. Traveling back to California from Madrid with stops in Dublin, Chicago, Detroit, Denver, and Sacramento; overcoming a 9 hour jet-lag, and trying to get up to speed with lots of changes here at St. Bernard's in the midst of the first 2 weeks of school has been nothing short of exhausting. As a result I haven't been able to post anything of my experience. I'll be making another post with my reflections on the entire 2 weeks, but for now this post is meant to be an account of the things I did and experienced without any personal reflections or thoughts about the pilgrimage itself. The entire experience was broken in to two parts: the first week when we traveled to various places around Madrid and the actual WYD events within Madrid. Here is my experience of pilgrimage with the Home of the Mother for World Youth Day 2011 in Madrid.
I traveled alone for 3 days to Madrid, stopping for 2 days in Dublin. Because I did a lot of research beforehand, I had a good idea of what I'd be doing while in Dublin: visiting the major churches and museums. Everything went according to what I had planned while in Dublin until I began traveling to Madrid. I accidentally boarded the wrong bus back to the airport and woke up an hour later going complete opposite way of the airport. I was dropped off at the next stop and was picked up within 10 minutes by another bus headed in the right direction back to the airport. In the end I managed to make my flight with plenty of time to spare.
My flight arrived in Madrid at midnight on Sunday, August 7th. After a night in a hotel I met two friends from college, Vince and Stephanie, that were also attending the pilgrimage with HM. After getting off a bus in what looked like the middle of nowhere on the outskirts of Madrid, walking a ways, and asking some guys on motorcycles, we managed to find the Carmel of La Adehuela guest house where the men of the pilgrimage were to be staying for the first week. The carmel is where
St. Maria Maravillas de Jesus lived most of her life.
The first week was organized as a type of Catholic youth camp mixed with pilgrimage. There were 75 guys living in a house designed for 40. Most showered with a hose unless you were crafty enough to get a quick one in one of the two available indoor showers. The order spent little or nothing on food. We ate military issued food for breakfast and whatever could be found for lunch and dinner. As a result of rotten food, almost everyone had some kind of digestion issue, most in the form of diarrhea. The daily schedule consisted of getting up between 6:30 and 7, breakfast, chores, preparing to leave, morning prayer and rosary traveling to the site, mass where we traveled to, information about the place we were visiting, return trip to the convent, shower, prepare dinner, dinner, chores, group sharing, bed. Everything was very structured. Free-time did not exist. Everyone slept on the ground, either outside or on space on the floor. Everything was done with the group as a whole. I learned quickly that answers to questions about what was to happen next was rarely known and that I shouldn't bother myself with future plans. The order adhere's to the Carmelite spirituality and the leaders of the pilgrimage made it a point to stress the importance of sacrifice and discipline, both in the spiritual life and during the pilgrimage. Mass everyday. Prayer was constant. It was quickly apparent to me that all the reading I had done in order to prepare for my trip was no longer something I could expect to do. The idea was to be completely dependent on Divine Providence at every given moment and to humbly do whatever was asked of us without questions.
Though the majority of the group was in high school, there were a good number of guys my age that were great to get to know. The group wasn't exclusively American but also had members from Ecuador, Spain, England, Canada, and a few other countries. The group got along well as a whole and if there wasn't some type of good conversation going on, game being played, chore being done, or prayer being said, people were usually sleeping. The brothers and priests of the order made it an obvious point to mingle and interact with everyone. In addition, I had the understanding that my friend from Franciscan, Phil, who has joined the order and invited me to come, was going to be attending the pilgrimage for the entire 2 weeks. On the second day of the pilgrimage I found out that none of the novitiates (which Phil is) would be joining the group till the papal WYD events began, this was disappointing to hear.
During the first week we visited: St. Theresa's first convent in Avila,
Cathedral la Almudena in Madrid,
Salamanca ("The Oxford of Spain"),
Toledo,
El Escorial (for a hike, didn't get to see the big building),
Valle de los Caidos (valley of the fallen), and several other convents and monasteries. All the places we visited were excellent. We saw the relics and remains of St. Theresa of Avila and St. John of the Cross, the
Monstrance of Arfe (largest monstrance in the world, used during the WYD vigil), spoke with cloistered nuns, and prayed mid-day prayer with Trappist monks.
Monday evening of the second week, we moved to the campus of Instituto de Educacion Secundaria Isabela Catolica in the center of Madrid where the 140 girls had been staying all week. In this school, Home of the Mother had an official world youth day site that the order expected random pilgrims to visit. Home of the Mother had a schedule of events for the week at this site which they expected all their pilgrims to attend. The events consisted of mass, rosary, talks, testimonies, and talent show type performances. Though it was in the middle of the city, the campus was tucked away from major streets and had only one gate to enter/exit that was locked every night. As with the first week, the schedule was very structured and it was expected that everyone would follow the leaders' plan, no questions asked. As you might imagine, there was a lot of frustration for myself and everyone else during this week in trying to respect the wishes of the group leaders and at the same time, not wanting to miss out on the rest of the WYD events. I'll comment on this later.
Tuesday and Wednesday consisted of attending a catechesis session and HM events at the site and attending the opening mass on Wednesday night. I was able to make it to the center for English speakers at the Palacio Deportes where I heard Archbishop Chaput and Dolan speak, as well as a live showing of Life on the Rock (both of which mom was at but we weren't able to connect). On Wednesday Vince and I stopped at Puerta del Sol and saw the crowd of protesters that remained there the entire week; this was a very tense experience. There was not any place in the city where pilgrims were not swarming in large numbers with flags, loud chants, singing accompanied by drums, tambourines, and guitars; and the easily recognizable WYD bags and hats that were distributed. The subways were all very much overcrowded which made for a commute not without it's uneasiness. Thursday the pope arrived. We left the school as a group and walked to Plaza de Cibeles where we stood for nearly 8 hours total, shoulder-to-shoulder, in triple digit heat. The volunteers (and anyone else with water) were spraying all the pilgrims so as to keep cool, so everyone was soaking wet the entire time. The crowd was really enthusiastic and upbeat the whole time thanks to music, MC's, people trying to get on the jumbo-tron (which a girl did in our group), and constant updates about where the Holy Father was at any given moment;
here is his address. On the way back Vince and I found an ice-cream vendor off the beaten path and order ourselves some water. After finishing 1.5 liter bottle of water and getting started on a Fanta, we met lone pilgrim from South Africa (whose name I don't remember) and had a good exchange with him.
The Way of the Cross on Friday was similar to the schedule for Thursday. We left about 4 hours early to get a spot close to the stage at Cibeles. Maybe not so surprisingly, the size of our group shrank significantly as people "accidentally" lost sight of the group and were forced to go their own way. I stayed with the larger group and we arrived at the plaza only to be met by the same steamy, sardine-like, water-park-dance-party as the day before. I could only endure it for about an hour and as the crowds started pushing even tighter one of the guys in the group and I decided we had had enough. We left, found a bar, and had an interesting conversation over a beer with some Italian guys about European stereotypes of everyone in America owning a gun and carrying it everywhere, Italian birth-rates, Communism in Italy, and whether American super cars belong in the same class as Ferrari and Lamborghini.
The Way of the Cross itself was quite a dramatic spectacle of art, music, prayer, and reflection. Of course the pope had great things to
say (one of the most moving pieces of music for me during the whole Way of the Cross can be heard at 0:53 of this video, unfortunately, I can't find the whole thing anywhere).
My friend Phil was at the HM site when I returned Friday evening.
Saturday was the longest and hottest day of the entire pilgrimage but also the most memorable. Because of the connections the order had with the WYD organizers, they were able get reserved seating in the front section for the vigil. Because of the close proximity to the stage, cameras, and security; the leaders of the order understood that no one would be allowed to carry a bag to the vigil site. We all received special tickets for the vigil which had our name and passport number printed on it. We went by train to the Cuatro Vietos Airforce base on the edge of Madrid and arrived in the late morning. We arrived to our seats, after having gone through security, with about 6 hours to wait till the vigil was scheduled to begin. As soon as we arrived I was sent with a group of male pilgrims to pick up food. The food was distributed in "picnic" form: each person received a bag with enough food for about 4 meals. There wasn't really any place to get away from the triple digit heat (besides towels and wet hats), boredom (besides people watching), and the dust. However, while on a trek to find a toilette, Vince and I discovered a strip of shade sandwiched between a tent and a mobile home type building filled with bathrooms without running water. There were about 10 people already making use of the shade and everyone was thankful for the relief. Due to the heat, the soothing drone of ambulance sirens circling the compound was constant and stress relieving. Maybe it was my American Puritanical roots, but modesty seemed to be an after-thought, or at least secondary to avoiding heat stroke. Trying to re-fill water bottles at the water trough was slow but surprisingly civilized, considering the heat and that the event organizers ran out of water to distribute for several hours. Bathrooms were a similar experience. As the waiting continued we watched as the army of Bishops and Cardinals found their place took out their iPhones and iPads and took some pictures. We watched as the papal chair was brought in and the stage was prepared.
When the Holy Father was finally arriving to the compound the excitement in the air was palpable. As Benedict walked up the stage I was really struck with how lucky I was for having had seats about 100 yards from the stage. As the vigil started the wind started to pick up and the temperature dropped. When the pope began to give his address the wind picked up significantly, blowing directly at the pope. Rain started to pour and lighting covered the sky. Attempts were made to shield the Holy Father from the wind and rain with umbrellas but it was obvious they were not providing much help. There was not a mass exodus when the rain started, instead, the pilgrims remained and were cheering on the pope with the familiar chants from the past week: "Benedito", "We are the youth of the Pope" (in Spanish), "Viva el Papa", and others. (I've read reports describing the time during the storm as "utter chaos", this was not at all what my experience was like. There was no panic, just an increased level of enthusiasm as whole). An announcement was made to pray that the rain would pass which invoked an immediate screaming of the "Salve Regina" and rosary beads appearing in response. Within about 45 minutes the storm had passed and the pope continued with a shortened version of his reflection. The pope had left the stage to change into formal Adoration vestments. As the Monstrance of Arfe slowly rose from the floor of the stage, there were sustained periods of up to 10 minutes where the only sound that could be heard was the wind. The silence was very impressive.
After the vigil had ended, there was a lot of confusion within the HM group about whether to stay the night outside (no one had appropriate things to sleep with/on since we were not permitted by HM bring them) or to return back to the where we had been staying the whole week. The women and a small part of the men's group left to spend the night at the HM site within Madrid. The rest of the men were first told that we'd be spending the night in the chairs we'd been sitting in for the vigil/all day, then we were told to leave the area, followed by talk of returning back to the HM site. We tried to leave the compound but one of the brother's was told that if we were to stay the night there was a possibility that we'd be able to sit in the front section as we did for the vigil because the seating reservation had been changed to a first-come-first-serve policy. The decision was made to spend the night at the compound and get up at 5am to reserve spots for the group in the front section that we'd been in for the vigil. A small patch of grass was found behind the stage (conveniently under two very bright street lights) and everyone did something that resembled sleeping in the open air which had dropped significantly in temperature, for 4 hours.
The next morning we made our way to a section of chairs where it was thought we would not be asked to leave, we arrived at around 6am. At around 8:30, people started showing up with tickets which were for the section our group was now seated in and we were asked to leave. The final mass was scheduled to begin at 9:30. We went to our originally assigned section to discover it completely full. The group was forced to split up and find any small piece of open ground among the other sleeping pilgrims. Vince and I stuck together and tried to invite ourselves into the company of some Italian pilgrims that had an ideal space next to the fence where it was assumed the pope would be driving of. Unfortunately out invitation was not received well and we (or mainly I) felt it would be better to find a different sport. We ended up finding a not so curiously free space of gravel next to a pile of trash amid some African pilgrims, that was, fortunately, in front of one of the jumbotrons. Before the final mass started, announcements were made to for pilgrims to clear the isle ways so that the pope could drive around and greet everyone. There was a mad rush to the open spots in the along the barriers as everyone watched and hoped that the pope would pass by our way, but to no avail.
The final mass was quite amazing and I recommend that you read the pope's very pastoral
homily. I especially appreciated the quality of music that the full volunteer professional orchestra, directed by Pedro Alfaro, performed that accompanied the mass and all other WYD events. Reserve communion was being housed in tabernacles throughout the compound that were sheltered by tents but were blown over as a result of the storm. Because of this, communion was not distributed to the pilgrims. Despite the garbage and camping gear strewn everywhere, everyone being sleep deprived and covered in a layer of dust and dried sweat everyone that I was around was very reverent and actively participating in the Mass, following along with in the missal that was provided, the readings and responses (this was a trend I noticed for all the major WYD events. Everyone I was around was eager to show the sign of peace which was inspiring. The general atmosphere seemed exhausted but full of hope.
It took Vince and I nearly 5 hours to travel back to the HM site that would normally have taken about 20 minutes. On our way back there were locals dumping and spraying water of apartment buildings on to the pilgrims. Vince and I stopped for lunch and watched as an endless stream of pilgrims passed by on the street.
Back at the HM site that evening mass was offered for those that hadn't received, good-byes were said to those leaving that night or early the next morning. More cleaning was done and finally sleep. I left the next day in the late morning with intention of going to the Prado art museum that I had been wanting to get to since I started reading up about Madrid. Unfortunately all the museums in Madrid are closed on Monday's. I spent most of the morning reading by myself in the Parque de Retiro until I ran into a couple of the British guys from the group who I tagged along with around Madrid for few hours with till I made my way to the airport. There were still many pilgrims throughout the city on Monday, still carrying flags, singing songs, dancing, and making a big Catholic scene. It was quite remarkable.
