One Sunday in November at the La Salette chapel in our neighborhood we were treated to musical accompaniment by a class of students (some from the neighborhood) and several of their professors. From their level of coordination as a group, they obviously were accustomed to playing music together. The instruments they included (charango, guitar, tambor, acordeón, and bandolina) also created a fuller sound, all of which seemed to encourage the congregation to sing with more gusto and seemingly with greater attention to key.
While we happily attend Mass with the people in our neighborhood and enjoy the convenience of being able to walk the few blocks to attend, we still attend services at different churches (in total maybe about three times a week), sometimes because it's closer to where we are at the moment, sometimes just to see what a service is like in this building or with that group. If it were just for the sake of hearing a more professional sounding musical accompaniment, I suppose we'd attend the San Pedro Iglesia on Avenida Herionas. Their harmonies are interesting and spot on, and--maybe this is just because of the songs they choose to sing--when they sing, the number of syllables per measure seems to be more regular and predictable rather than, well seemingly, sometimes 4, sometimes 18 or so, the latter occasioning my musical bewilderment, silent awe, and admiration for those who can track this vocal slalom sin choque. But, of course, the music is only a part of a complex ritual/mystery, only a portion of which we grab with our senses, and I'm still enamored (well now, but certainly not then) of the pre-folk Mass days of my youth at Little Rock Catholic High School for Boys when usually there was no more music than that of our adolescent male voices, some of them pretty good, and that seemed enough for the purpose, probably sponsoring my attitude that the music of Mass ought not to be so competitively good that the average person can't feel welcome singing along comfortably nor so bad that enduring it qualifies for due penance no matter what the sin. Hmmm. I suppose I'm a centrist.
On another weekend in November we were invited to the home of Sylvia (in pink), one of Lynn's friend's from her work at Pastoral Juvenil (PJ) in Cochabamba (Cbba). Sylvia is majoring in English language study at San Simon University and has another year of classes before beginning to write her thesis, a requirement for all here to complete their bachelor-level education. Sylvia has been very helpful with coordinating meetings for the Filmania program at PJ and seeing that we have what equipment we needed when it was time for setup. During the week Sylvia lives in the city of Cochabamba in rooms there at the Pastoral Juvenil along with a number of other Catholic students who attend San Simon. On the weekends she returns to her hometown, Arani, by minibus about an hour south of Cbba.
We had a pleasant lunch (pollo, carrot fritters, salad, juice) in the courtyard of her house in Arani, just a few blocks off the town plaza. While chatting at lunch we learned that the daughter and son-in-law of one of Sylvia's neighbors live in New York. It's very common for young people here to leave their country in search of work after they have completed their educations, often leaving behind children with their own parents. Sylvia said she hopes to return to her hometown and teach English and French to the young children in the town. When she's home on the weekend Sylvia likes to visit her mother's grave, work as a radio announcer at the local station, and pray at the church on the central plaza. We went there and toured the church along with other visitors. At the time we were there no service was being conducted, and despite the bright midday sunshine the interior was dim from the shuttered windows and closed doors. Even so, we paused to think about our own family, the circumstances of being so distance-challenged to stay in communication, and why we continue to do the work that we do. Thinking of Sylvia and others, we knew we weren't alone in this. This took the edge off of the sometimes spooky sense of being in a large dim room with a variety of what one guy referred to as three-quarter life-sized action figures. Reverence takes its various forms, and I appreciate the captivatingly frank assertion of one of my Carmen Pampa students that she did not see the point of worshipping dolls. I realize that the Latin American Catholic Church is unique and that in any religious or worship environment one can get lost in the symbols or absence of them. I also realize that outside of these environments devotional attachment knows no bounds. Lynn and I enjoyed the quiet time inside and went on our way.
Just outside the church the central plaza and the streets leading onto it were jammed with people participating in the Arani Bread Festival. I realize the pan-jaded bunch might not see the point of so much excitement about bread, but despite its rich agricultural regions Bolivia has experienced stark food shortages due to its political upheavals and unstable productivity following land reforms in 1952. The cost of pancitos (how many per peso) is now an important gauge of food prices, and any rise in the price is sure to get ink in the local papers.
The bread then that I was seeing in all of the local stalls--some with just pan (but toco, mariketa, and tortilla [leavened, not the Mexican flatbread variety] but also the standard type that I heard one American couple in Coroico refer to disdainfully as "those little hamburger buns they eat"), some with pan y vino, some with pan and various types of local fare such as silpancho, and some with giant bread wheels as big as car tires--was an important symbol of prosperity, and the locals were proud to celebrate it because they had it: hay pan, indeed! This was a staff of life celebration. We also learned from Sylvia that the town of Arani figured prominently in this celebration because Arani was earlier the site of many family-owned grain mills. I wondered if Molino and Molina were more frequently occurring last names in this locale.1
More later...
More later...
Wanting to hear some traditional Christmas Carols, I downloaded the album Classic Christmas Carols by the King's College Choir at Cambridge. Many of these carols were new to me and pleasant to hear through the season. One especially I have listened to--Quittez, pasteurs--because of the gentle exhortation from the angels to the shepherds not to get so caught up in their work that they overlook the big event, the good news happening maybe three hills over, and that all of them were called, not just the ones that hadn't made any mistakes or the ones that were always doing a great job. At cyberhymnal.org I found an English translation of the hymn.2 I also wondered at the relationship between the French verb quitter in the hymn and the verb quitar in the Spanish version of the Catholic liturgy:
Cordero de diosWith the nearness of beginning another year, the rethinking of past failings to quit the old one, the need to continue and the sometimes difficulty of continuing, the song's emphasis on the prospect of redemption held my focus.
que quitas el pecado del mundo
ten piedad de nosotros ( bis)
Cordero de dios
que quitas el pecado del mundo
danos la paz, danos la paz.
__________
1 Mill2 LEAVE, SHEPHERDS, LEAVE, YOUR PEACEFUL FLOCKS
Leave, shepherds, leave your peaceful flocks agrazing! No longer grieve, but come, O come away! Come and adore, your tears all changed to praising; Of Him the heav’nly King, O sing, O sing Your Savior born this happy day.
There, lowly laid, within a manger narrow, A lovely maid and Infant thou shalt see! His tender love hath sought thee in thy sorrow— Thy darkness to remove! He came, to prove A loving Shepherd’s care for thee!
Kings from the east! His star will guide thee truly! Where He doth rest, in love and faith draw near: Our rising Sun receives thy homage duly! O bring to Him, each one—Each one! Each one! Your incense and your gold and myrrh!
Who canst do all things surely, hearts enshrine Thine ardors sweet and fair! For peace is his For peace is His that through Thee liveth purely! And added unto this, all joy, and bliss— Since God hath sent His Savior here!
