Curitiba Pilgrimage 11 (11/26 – Over the River and Through the Woods . . .)

On the van -- from back Amber, Michael and Melissa, John and Nancy, Kate and Deborah

We spent Thanksgiving Day doing what most of our countrypeople did, that is, traveling somewhere to have dinner with family and friends.  Only we drove a much greater distance than most, about 640 kilometers or nearly 400 miles from Foz do Iguaçu back to Curitiba.  As promised, we were all at the breakfast buffet when it opened at 7 or pretty shortly thereafter.  One of our hosts from Santo Agostinho was there to pay for the rooms and get caught up in this morning’s drama — had anyone eaten a bag of potato chips or gotten into the packaged toiletry items for a toothbrush or razor?  I heard that someone on the hotel staff was sweeping the rooms to check, and there was a 15 or 20 minute discussion at the front desk over whether a couple of Reais needed to be added to the bill. (I myself had borrowed and returned an adapter for the electrical outlet, having accidently left mine in Cascavel; but maybe that went on the bill too.)

Notwithstanding the unanticipated yet customary delay, we got on our way and out of town with no missed turns or traffic delays.  What was surprising about this drive, which was the longest of the trip, is that we all remained awake and actively engaged in conversation, some of it serious and a lot of it fun, pretty much the whole way.  Though we haven’t interacted with our van driver Moacir much, he has come to seem more and more like part of the group.  Along the way, Amber surprised everyone with personal Thanksgiving cards.  Roberto pointed out a couple of places where he had served as a Roman priest, and he and Moacir sang the Brasilian national anthem in between someone’s stab at the U.S. national anthem, our own Kate’s rendition of “God Bless America,” and Kate and Nancy’s duet on a very old and very long University of California drinking song.  Some of the individual conversations were serious discussions about our trip — concerning what we had seen and experienced; what advice we would have for the next companion visit by members of our diocese; and what we could do to facilitate a visit to California by a group of companions from the Diocese of Curitiba.

We made good time, crossing the state in ten hours, even with an hour-long stop in the middle for lunch.  At about 6 p.m. we piled out of the van and into the cathedral, feeling like kids returning home from summer camp.  We spread out to clean up, check e-mail in Michael’s office, and deal with other pending matters in advance of the planned dinner with Bispo Naudal and others from the cathedral.  We were called in to dinner about 7, way early for dinner for the Brasilians, but consistent with our tradition (if not timing) of eating dinner earlier on Thanksgiving Day.  We sang and prayed, and then they surprised us with a turkey dinner, again through the efforts of Rosi and Elisa, who had prepared the other cathedral dinners.  They do in fact eat turkey in this part of Brasil and usually serve it on Christmas.  Bispo Naudal noted that there is no Thanksgiving holiday in Brasil, but they recognized its importance to us, and he surmised that Brasileiros just might start to celebrate this holiday as they have done recently with Halloween.

Following dinner we offered some impressions on what we had observed on our week-long road trip.  We also learned that some of them had followed my dispatches on the DioCal website, which my travelling companions themselves had been unable to do since they’ve rarely had a chance to get on line.  I said that I wanted to get some of the dispatches translated, and I apologized for and said I would work on trying to correct our diocese’s failure to do something that the Diocese of Curitiba has done, which is to translate at least one page of our website into their language.

Amber finally was able not only to talk about but also to present the wooden labyrinth officially to the Diocese of Curitiba.  It’s a minor miracle that we didn’t break it or leave it behind somewhere on our 1500+ kilometer journey.  The diocesan staff and family members then presented us with individual gifts, and we in turn presented individual gifts to each of them.

Because we cannot exist without it, there was more drama and confusion afterward about where people were staying.  Revda. Carmen Etel has left town (and the country) to attend the Oslo Conference on Women, Peace, and Security.  Deborah and Amber were still going to stay at Carmen’s tonight but first came over to Cesar and Veronica’s (where Nancy and I are staying).  Amber was also feeling some anxiety and concern over how our actions in Cascavel — when we deferred a scheduled visit and asked for time to meet together after our day with the landless — as well as how other stray remarks may have been perceived by our hosts.  Between the language and communication difficulties, the cultural differences, and the serious nature of our task, we could easily be misunderstood and do damage to the companion relationship.