Saying "A Dios" to one school and "Hola" to the Diocese of Cuernavaca

Friday was my last day of class at the Escuela IDEAL. I have made friends with some of the teachers and students and I'll miss them very much. I hope they visit John and me in New Jersey.

To my surprise on Friday I was "triste" (sad) and wept when I said good-bye to the director, my teachers, my friends, the cuatro mujeres, and my Mexican "mama" (Evelia).

I took one last photo from Evelia's balcony outside of the "nest" I had made for a month in her house. I would be taking photos of my next stop, the Diocese of Cuernavaca for the next four weeks. But I wasn't thinking about that on Friday. I was only sad to leave. I remember now that this used to happen to me when I left after a week of over ngith camp when I was a kid. The last night was always very emotional with many good-byes and I would always weep. I never wanted to leave my current nest! Not even to go home when I was a kid!

Cuernavaca has been a mix of delight and reality. The people are friendly, yet sober. My favorite part of this sabbatical has been delighting in the Mexican people who have become my friends. There is a certain formality that is essential in a budding friendship with the people here. I don't mean a stiff Anglo Saxon kind of formality. It is a formality of respeto, respect of the humanity of another person; dignity. For example, our teacher, Omar, a young and exhuberant Mexican man explained to us that it is not so good for us to slam the door of the taxi at the end of our ride. It is much better to say good-bye and thank you. Then shut the door suerte, gently. Many Norteamericanos, from United States and Canada jump out and slam the taxi door. Muy fuerte!

Another mix of delight and reality is the pretty broken glass embedded into the top ridge of some of the concrete walls that divide property. The glass glimmers in the sunshine and is clear, amber, yellow and green. But it's not there for decoration. It is there for protection. Some people use broken glass shards embedded in the top of their walls. Others use chicken wire or razor wire on top of their walls. I have not experienced crime at all in Cuernavaca. And I have in Plainfield. But I can see that crime must be a problem in Mexico because the people live behind concrete walls and locked exterior gates.

I am now living on the close of the Diocese of Cuernavaca. I met Bishop Delgado on Saturday and his right hand man, Rodolfo. Their hospitality has been magnificent. The diocesan center was at one time a boy's home. On Sunday, Bishop Delgado invited me and another priest from Texas who is on sabbatical here to church Sunday afternoon. The bishop is vicar of this church in Alpuyeca, San Marcos. The bishop runs the diocesan center and the language school as well as serving parishes that have no priest. Or he fills in for priests on vacation. I took a photo of the dear people of San Marcos and the bishop because each person came up to me, spoke to me and hugged me before they left.

So, there are faithful Episcopalians here in Mexico! On Sunday morning I went to my first Episcopal service at the cathedral, St. Michael and All Angels in the center of Cuernavaca. The bishop phoned ahead to tell Father Francisco I was coming, another example of hospitality. I was happy to meet Father Francisco, his wife Norma and two children that morning. What a joy to find my church home in Mexico!