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2004 Web Diary
Tuesday, August 03, 2004
Posted by Ronan
I should start by apologising that we haven't 'blogged' for some time. Maybe you had given up hope of further diary entries. But if, like the Prodigal's Father, you have been out on the road every day scanning the horizon, your faith has finally been rewarded.
Our visit to Obera and Buenos Aires ended, we are now in Rio de Janeiro for a week before returning to Ireland next Sunday afternoon.
Rio, as the world knows, is a weird and wonderful place. It has a very seedy side but there are many compensations - the beautiful long beaches of Copacabana and Ipanema (the ones we have discovered so far), the hills, Corcovado (the big statue of Cristo Redentor which looks down over Rio) and the Sugarloaf hill/mountain which we are due to visit tomorrow.
Today we were taken to see a creche for infants and children in a Rio slum (favela) - the creche is run by some members of the Catholic movement Communion and Liberation and is affiliated to an international charity which cares for about 30,000 children, we heard.
In Rio the slums where the poor people live are visible from a long way off because the poor live up on the hill, and the higher up you go, the poorer they get.
We have not (yet, anyway) seen anything like the poverty we saw in Obera. Some of the houses, while awful looking, were in brick and plaster but, admittedly, we were in one of the less disastrous slum areas.
Getting there was fun. About 13 of us squashed into an unmarked White Toyota Hiace hackney van and headed up the hill. I haven't felt so constricted since one wet day back in National School when I got a lift home from school in a neighbour's station wagon which he operated as a hackney every day.
I suppose what we saw in this Rio slum was urban poverty, worse than what we might find in Ireland, but more related to our experience than the misery of the landless labourer in Obera. Today, we heard of family breakdown, lawlessness and (particularly) drug-dealing. Indeed the dealers were in their usual place of work, outside the gate of the creche, as we arrived. They were three of them, young men in their late teens or early twenties, sitting in a row, accompanied by dog and ghetto-blaster and staring casually down the hill. I saw a couple of people come up to get their stuff as I was leaving. While our hosts warned us not to stare the dealers did not seem too concerned whether we saw them or not. (One of our number may have inadvertently taken a photo of a leading drug pusher and he was warned by our hosts not to take pictures lest there be trouble.)
The dealers know the people running the creche and don't give them any trouble, except if there is some kind of conflict with the police. In fact the creche people sometimes go out to complain if there are too many of them accumulating in the road. Our hosts also mentioned that there can be a strange kind of relationship between the dealers and some of the local people - these armed dealers are seen as keeping some kind of security in the area. That sounded like something I heard before!
The children were sleeping when we arrived but some started to wake up in due course. One lovely child we saw had has lost his mother through drug addiction and the father is an 18 year old in prison for dealing.
I think I heard correctly that the creche porter's 19 year old son died in a shootout with the police a few days ago.
In total, there are several hundred children using the creche and related facilities. They come at different times, according to age and local schooling arrangements, but they go home to their families in the evening. At present, there are just facilities for children aged up to 14 but it is planned to have another programme that will take young people up to 18 years of age.
We said our goodbyes after a very informative and exhaustive question and answer session, but not before being invited to sponsor or 'adopt' a child, at a price of 312 euro a year. It's cheap at the price for such good work. If anyone is interested, I have the forms.
***
I spoke to Fr Liam Hayes last night and he informs me that Miguel is still very ill. He had improved for a while but had a setback in the last few days.
Wednesday, July 28, 2004
Article filed by Denis for this week's Irish Catholic
Last week in a desperately poor part of northern Argentina, I met a 12 year old with tousled hair and a cheeky grin whose quality of life was indirectly transformed by the President of Ireland.
His name is Ariel Marcos, and he's the oldest of six children. The family home is at the end of a long dirt track and consists of some wooden huts built on the bare clay ground. Inside there's room for two dirty old mattresses and a hammock made out of canvas sacking. The smell of must and damp is everywhere, and not surprisingly the children cough a lot.
A few hens and chickens peck about the yard, and a mangy dog growls at visitors and strains at its chain.
Aid agencies tell us that one billion people in the world live on less than a dollar a day; the Marcos family are members of this unfortunate club.
But whatever is keeping them in such desperate poverty, it's not that their father lacks for work ethic.
Mr Marcos is a farm labourer. You see groups of such men waiting from 5 am for the open trucks that collect them; working hours are 8 am to 6 pm with an hour for lunch.
If all goes well on any given day, Mr Marcos will harvest the tea or the grain or the rice, and will take home 12 pesos for his efforts. That's about 3 US dollars. Not much between himself, his wife and his six children.
If he's thirsty when he gets home, his water comes from a discoloured, stagnent pool at the back of his house. Needless to say, some of his kids have the swollen bellies that comes from drinking this filthy water. At the moment the youngest child, three-month old Sebastian, is sick in hospital with pneumonia. There's no real nursing care available so Mr Marcus is staying with him while his wife minds the other kids at home. Therefore, at present, there's no family income at all.
Fortunately, help has come from the local Home of St Teresa, a project for abandoned people with disabilities run by Divine Word missionary Fr Liam Hayes, originally of Cappamore, Co Limerick. In addition to their main work, the staff in the home are trying to look after some of these neighbouring families who are at their wits' end.
Fr Hayes is also the chaplain to the local hospital. The Marcos family crossed his radar some years ago after they'd spent four months trying to get medical attention for their eldest child, Ariel, he of the tousled hair and the cheeky grin.
Ariel had got an infection in his eye, caused either by the dirty water or the millions of flies who infest this area in summer.
Without cash up front, the hospital refused treatment and Ariel's right eye was eventually lost.
Left visually disabled and disfigured, Ariel endured four years of poor health. He needed surgery and an artificial eye, but there was no prospect of either.
When President McAleese visited the Home of St Teresa last March during her state tour of Argentina, she was accompanied by the Vice-Governor of the Misiones province. To escort a head of state was a big day in the life of the Vice-Governor of this remote Argentinian province, so when someone took him aside aside and mentioned the case of Ariel Marcos, he was keen to be seen to deliver.
No more was heard for some weeks. Then a message arrived to say a surgeon had been lined up; after a day or two away Ariel returned home with a perfectly-repaired face and the most realistic-looking artificial eye that modern medicine can provide.
Last Thursday night Fr Hayes celebrated a farewell Mass for myself and three other guests who were leaving the next day. The Marcos kids were there in force: Ariel, Carlos, Irene, Gustavo and Angelica.
During the first reading I spotted a dark shadow flitting into the kitchen: Fr Hayes's enormous black mongrel, Flipper. I dived in to save the dinner and as Flipper was unceremoniously ejected, Ariel Marcos had a fit of the giggles and could barely remain on his seat.
It would be nice to think that Ariel's troubles are over, but realistically, his future is bleak. Most likely, before he's much older he'll will be working as a landless labourer, like his father.
However there is reason for hope: unlike most poor Argentinians, Ariel attends school. His literacy may prove to be a passport to greater things.
But whether he ends up as Doctor Ariel Marcos, or follows in his father's footsteps as an impoverished farm worker, one thing is sure. He'll always have a soft spot for President Mary McAleese.
ends....
Saturday, July 24, 2004
Last night we got sad news from Hogar Santa Teresita. Jorge, one of the two residents who had been taken into hospital on Thursday, died on Friday morning. May he rest in peace.
Miguel, the other resident in hospital, has improved slightly.
Friday, July 23, 2004
Our time in Obera has just ended and we caught an early morning flight to Buenos Aires today. Our trip to Iguazu Falls was memorable in many ways - we have been very privileged to see one of the great wonders of the world, but also to be in the company of staff and residents of Hogar Santa Teresita and Our Lady of Lugan, for some of whom it was the first time to see the Falls.
Every day in Obera brought something new to learn about and reflect on. Before going to Iguazu on Sunday we visited a desperately poor family who live in Obera and who are frequently assisted by Hogar Santa Teresita. When I say poor, I mean desperately poor. We're talking a few wooden huts on bare clay, an outdoor mini-kiln for making the bread, the danger of lighting open fires inside a wooden hut, dirty old mattresses and a hammock made out of canvas sacking to serve as beds - and the smell of must and damp everywhere. However tough it all is when the weather is dry, it must be dangerous and unbearable when the rain comes.
You know things are bad when you are glad to see a few hens and chickens running in and out of such a 'house', because at least they suggest food and nourishment some of the time. But it was shocking to see the dirty pool from which the family gets their drinking and washing water. The slight swelling on the children's stomachs told its own story.
Our guide, Gladis (who does housekeeping for Fr Liam and who has also been studying the possibility of developing a 'Bible garden' to support the work of the Homes) told us that the father of that family, if lucky, might earn 12 pesos (4 dollars) a day for working long hours cutting the 'yerba' plant from which the popular local tea, mat-ay, is made. This is tough work - hard on the hands and on the back. Unfortunately, illness or other family crises can mean that no such income is available. On the day we visited, the father was in the local hospital keeping an eye on a sick child.
At least this family has contact with Hogar Santa Teresita, and although there is no mental or physical disability issue at the moment, the home might be able to help in ensuring some kind of a future for the children. But what about the thousands more like them in a country unable to cope with its poor? You sometimes feel that the poor are stuck in the culture of poverty - unable even to reach for the help that might be within their grasp. Fr Hayes often talks about the key role of primary education here, and how he wishes the civil authorities would do more to enforce school attendance.
On the brighter side we met one of the children, Arial, a young lad of 12 who lost an eye as a result of an infection. Hogar Santa Teresita was able to help him when, during President McAleese's visit last March, the local Vice-Governor was prevailed upon to make sure Arial received necessary surgery and an artificial eye. Arial was back at the Hogar for our farewell Mass last night and was great to see him. He has a smiling, happy disposition that is heart-warming.
After leaving Ariel's family on Sunday we set out for Iguazu, dropping off one of Santa Teresita's residents, Samuel, with his family at the town of Puerto Rico along the route. Samuel is physically but not mentally disabled. He was full of enthusiasm about getting back to spend a day or two with his family, something he does a couple of times a year. Seeing Samuel's family in their dwelling place made me think once again about the sometimes strange meaning of the word 'home'. What a place! Almost the same story as earlier in the day at Obera - a couple of wooden huts, made of wooden boards, an open fire within, no electricity or running water and the same outdoor brick fire for making the bread. We met 12 or 15 children - Samuel's siblings, nieces and nephews - who were lined up to greet him. There was a lot of smiling and laughter but also a lot of coughing. It made me realise how luxurious the Home in Obera is by comparision. Yet Samuel was very glum and upset to be leaving his family when we picked him up again on Wednesday evening on the way back again from Iguazu. I shouldn't have been surprised, I suppose. But I was. It is great that the Hogar is there, but there is no getting away from the fact that Samuel's poor circumstances have forced him into exile.
We arrived in Iguazu late on Sunday night and we visited the Brazilian side for the more panoramic view on a very wet Monday. There were ten of us in all - six volunteers (five Irish, one English), three of Fr Hayes's staff - Julio, Fernando and Mabel - and one resident, Juan. We stayed on the Brazil side on Monday and Tuesday because of the lack of accommodation on the Argentinian side due to school holidays. Crossing the border back and forth between Brazil and Argentina was a bureaucratic pain and terribly time-consuming.
The Argentinian side of Iguazu Falls is much more impressive. While it lacks the distant panoramic view you get on the Brazil side, you get up close to nature in Argentina. The highlight is the walkway out to the 'devil's throat' (Gargantua del Diablo) where you see the terrible power of the falling water. You feel it too when a gust of wind causes the spray to drench you. Everywhere along the trails around the falls you see the strange coatis - large rodent-like cats with long bushy tails, claws for digging and snouts for nosing out food. Coatis have got into the bad habit of begging tourists for food. Signs have been erected to warn people not to feed them and to be expecially careful with children - the coatis could claw you in their enthusiasm to dine.
We came back to Obera on Wednesday, and yesterday we visited another thought-proving project. Liam introduced us to Mabel, a retired Argentinian lady who with her Austrian husband Francisco set up a village for abandoned children. The had the insight that a 'normal' home life was better for abandoned children than institutionalisation. They built homes and found 'mothers' - women with a vocation to making a home for 9 or 10 abandoned children. (It's like the reverse of normal adoption - here the parents are adopted, I suppose.) This village now has over a hundred children, 11 or 12 houses, and a primary and secondary school which serve the needs of the local area as well. Francisco (formerly a Divine Word religious - like Liam, but not a priest) died in a car accident about 15 years ago, and there is a lovely memorial to him in the grounds of the village, where he is buried.
It all came to an end last night. After Mass and a late supper we took our leave of Liam and the staff and the residents of the home. Apart from the sadness of parting, there was also concern for the welfare of Miguel and Jorge, two residents of the Home who have become very ill and were taken to the local hospital. Never a dull moment.
It goes without saying that we feel a great obligation to the Fr Hayes and his staff not only for their kindness to us but also for the important work they are doing in serving others. We will continue to reflect on what we have seen, done and learned - and how we can assist in the future.
We are due to spend one week more in Argentina, and a week in Rio de Janeiro. We will keep you posted.
Tuesday, July 20, 2004
Sorry about the lack of posts. We've been on the road for the past couple of days, and are now staying on the Brazilian side of the Iguazu Falls. Spectacular. We've a day's journey back to Obera tomorrow; a decent post will be done then.
Thursday, July 15, 2004
Posted by Denis
It's a rainy, warm day and we're in the city of Posadas picking up stuff for the home. A neighbouring family travelled in with us, and I got my first taste of the local brew, Yerba Mate. Many people go around here with a flask of hot water in one hand and a yerba cup in the other. The cup is packed with herbs and filled with water; it's drunk through a steel straw. There's a few mouthfuls to each cup, then the water is topped up and the cup passed to someone else. Juan, who's wheelchair bound and does a lot of work in the home, is never without his cup - in fact, he usually has a cigarette in one hand and a yerba in the other. He's not the only one - the petrol stations even have machines that dispense boiling water for the flasks. The stuff on the bus today was sugared ('por los chicos') but still it'd be an acquired taste. Very acquired.
Tuesday, July 13, 2004
Posted by Ronan
Today we accompanied Fr Hayes to Guarani where he said Mass for the residents and staff of Hogar Virgen de Lugan, a home he founded to look after abandoned elderly. The Mass was outdoors. The weather has changed here today. The freezing southerly wind is gone - now a warm breeze from the north has been blowing since lunchtime. It's still very warm, as I write, even though it's now past one in the morning.
These sudden changes in temperature have played havoc with our systems and we've all got a dose of the sniffles. On malnourished constitutions the effects are more stark. Yesterday at Marcello's funeral there were nine other fresh graves.
Guarani is a barrio about 6 kilometres from our base in Hogar Santa Teresa. In the middle of the town there is a large makeshift sign erected by the side of the road. 'El Futuro Paseo de la Republica de Irlanda,' it says, announcing to all comers that in the near future, the local authority will create a small park here and name it after the Republic of Ireland.
Virgen de Lugan is different from Hogar Santa Teresita in that it caters for a smaller number of middle-aged to elderly people who, although not necessarily afflicted by physical or intellectual disability, have no one to care for them.
After Mass, we got the guided tour. The original home, established in 1999, is a comfortable but basic facility. But a large extension is now almost built thanks to financial help from the Irish Government. This will enable the Hogar to cater for up to 30 residents (at present there is just room for 8). Apart from extra bedrooms, there will be a sitting room, a dining room, a small oratory, specially adapted toilet and shower facilities for disabled and elderly people - and, for the first time in the home, a plentiful supply of hot water.
On the way into the home stands a ceramic plaque, commemorating in Irish and Spanish the visit of President Mary McAleese on 20th March last. Underneath, the Mayor of Guarani has added his own brass plate. The message on this one packs quite a punch, even for those with very little Spanish. It translates: 'Better than to say is to do. Better than to promise is to carry out.'
In the Hogar we met Claro. Claro had come to the home from the local hospital, extremely poor and with almost nobody belonging to him in the world. Worse, he had suffered malnutrition and was now completely blind.
Some years ago, a volunteer's father came from Germany to visit his daughter. As luck would have it, the visitor was a leading German eye surgeon. He advised the management of the home that Claro's sight could be substantially restored with surgery. It's a story that illustrates the vulnerability of the poor in Argentina. Without the visit of this eye surgeon, and the supportive environment provided by the home, a man would have been left sightless.
Today, Claro (whose name, as it happens, means 'clear' or 'light' in Spanish) has sixty per cent vision, and works for the benefit of his fellow residents in Virgen de Lugan. Fr Liam's description of Claro's joy when his sight was restored was memorable.
Monday, July 12, 2004
Posted by Denis
We were due to visit the Iguazu Waterfalls today (the ones in the film,'The Mission'); some of the staff from the Hogar were to go with us and they were very excited - they've never seen the Falls despite living only 300 kilometres away. It'll have to wait. One of the residents, Marcello, died during the night. He was in his early 30s and had been left terribly disabled by some sort of childhood disease that went untreated - perhaps meningitis. When he came to the Hogar last month he was in the last stages of dehydration (Fr Liam's description of the insects that accompany this condition is, quite simply, unprintable). Yesterday the doctor said Marcello was soon to die and sure enough he went during the night.
A small consolation is that his mother came to see him last week, for the first time in 20 years. This morning Ronan and Julio from the Hogar went to collect Marcello's father. The next few days will be hard; we've been warned that when a resident dies, the others can become very upset.
Up to this, life in Obera was falling into a routine. Paraic and Ciara spend a lot of time in the Hogar, especially around mealtimes to help thse who cannot feed themselves. There's a break in the afternon while the residents have their siesta, during which we usually go into town for lunch (in my case, dinner - I'm getting fatter by the minute). You cannot spend money here. A full meal for eight with wine and desserts usually amounts to less than 100 pesos - 25 euro. Ronan and myself try to do a stint in the Hogar every day, and most evenings are working on publicity and computer stuff with Fr Liam.
Yesterday I went out with Liam and his seven dogs. It's a royal progress: the mutts hang over the back of the pickup and create an infernal racket as we drive down the quiet dirt roads. At every barrio, the local dogs chase the truck, infuriated by the invasion. Liam has to be careful. Last month a dog ran in front of his car and the owner threatened blue murder. And if he slows down, his largest animal (an enormous black half-labrador, half-donkey called Flipper) jumps off the back and into the melee. It's all a bit nerve racking.
Later Paraic and myself accompanied Liam to Mass in an outlying chapel. There was the usual small congregation from the local barrio, with the men on one side and the women on the other, and hens and pigs looking in the door. Afterwards we enlisted the help of a couple of teenagers to collect grapefruit for the Hogar. One of the kids used a long hook to shake the branches. The fruit comes tumbling down and we quickly filled a couple of sacks. Liam never returns empty handed from these remote communities. Last week it was sacks of yams; this week some money and the grapefruit.
There's a great mix of nationalities in this area. Most are dark haired Indian or Spanish looking people, but there's a surprising number who are fair-haired Germans, and lots of Poles and Russians as well. The majority are now third or fourth generation immigrants and only the older ones speak their original languages. However old sensitivities can remain. In one church, a German priest removed the Polish coat of arms. He alienated the community and was replaced in due course by another German, who put things right by restoring the church to its former Polish glories.
In another church, Liam once preached on St Maximilian Kolbe, and several of the older parishioners walked out. Afterwards they accused him of spreading British and Soviet lies. Their parents came to Argentina after the First War but it's still unacceptable to say anything that reflects badly on the Fatherland.
We're all working on the Spanish language, with varying degrees of success. The accent here is hard: they drop the 's' sound so that 'buenos dias' becomes 'bueno dia'. Ronan, of course, is voluble (valuable? - Ed.) in any language and engages in complicated conversations in restaurants about how to cook pasta to his exact specifications. Paraic is using his Italian and getting by, while Ciara is picking it up quickly. I'm convinced I have it cracked - isn't it only Latin with an accent? - but I rang for a taxi last night and the man laughed at me down the phone. Somewhat miffed, I asked 'me comprende?' He chuckled again, then said, 'Si, comprendo'. I'm still waiting for the taxi.
Thursday, July 08, 2004
Posted by Ronan
Yesterday we went to Posadas (the capital of Misiones province, about 90 km from Obera) to lodge several thousand dollars' worth of travellers cheques for the Homes. After that we crossed the border into Paraguay. It wasn't that simple of course. There seemed to be some problem getting over the border. After ages waiting, Fr Hayes and Ciara (and all our passports), were taken into the office by some officials and the blinds temporarily pulled down.
They emerged very soon. It transpired that 10 US dollars had to be paid by each Irish person on the grounds that we didn't have the required paperwork and this was the fee for a day visa or something. Whether this was all above board or just a bit of corruption in action, I have no idea. Anyway Fr Hayes and Ciara Davin done the deal.
We crossed the new single-lane bridge over the huge Rio Parana, leaving behind the town of Posadas in Argentina and entering the town of Encarnacion in Paraguay. This town was even poorer looking than the one we had left.
In Encarnacion, we visited a convent of enclosed Carmelite nuns where Liam said Mass. First we chatted through a grille with the nuns. There was about 12 or 15 there to greet us and most were young. Ciara was invited to consider a vocation - they don't miss a trick, them nuns - so watch this space.
After Mass we purchased some of the handcrafts which the nuns make to earn their bread. These were very reasonably priced, beautiful looking figurines along themes of faith of friendship. Paraic Maher couldn't resist making several purchases. By the way, the unit of currency in Paraguay is the Guarani: 2000 Guarani = 1 Argentinian Peso and 10 Argentinian Peso = 3 Euro approximately.
After leaving the nuns, we headed for one of the most well-preserved ruins of a Jesuit mission. This settlement, the Holy Trinity Mission, had been founded in 1706 and abandoned in 1767 or so.
These settlements (reducciones) have been made famous by the 1986 film, The Mission. The Jesuits established about 30 of them - in Brazil, Argentina and Paraguay - roughly between 1570 and 1750. (Hence the name Misiones, the northern province of Argentina where Obera is located.)
The mission settlements were set up to convert the Guarani Indians and, according to our guide, about 50% of the Guarani came to live in them. The film The Mission, while it has some historical inaccuracies, gives a flavour of the just, humanitarian society the Jesuits operated in these places. Conversion was voluntary. The Jesuits respected the culture of the Guarani - their music, language and system of tribal leadership - as far as possible, but opposed child marriage and polygamy. Many Guarani, in turn, converted to Christianity.
The missions offended the Spanish and Portuguese authorities whose commercial interests were threatened. In the context of the suppression of Jesuits back in Spain, the Jesuits had to abandon the missions. Many Guarani returned to the forests and slavery was also part of the story, although I am not sure how much.
We left the ruins of Holy Trinity Mission tired but thoughtful. It is encouraging that, way before the French revolution, human dignity and freedom seems to have been expressed in a non-violent way. But there is the great sadness of knowing that this vision didn't survive to shape the centuries that followed.
On Tuesday evening I accompanied Fr Hayes on his visit to the local hospital in Obera. The hospital is a grim place - it has about 120 beds for a town and hinterland of 60,000 people. The floors and walls are grotty and dirty-looking and the furniture is very basic. Grubby looking blankets cover the beds. The patients are mainly poor people. The more well-off people go to the private clinics although even these, according to our host, are not great.
You can see hardship in some of the faces of the poor. In particular, there were many brown, heavily wrinkled and unshaven faces in the hospital. In one room Fr Hayes attended a dying man. The man was unconscious and breathing in that familiar, terrible way which signals approaching death. In the next bed - no curtains or screen or anything - lay a young convict chained by the ankle. Sitting beside this man was his girlfriend and a prison guard sitting at the foot of the bed. All appeared indifferent to the sad scene next to them. Perhaps the sight has become too familiar.
Being in this hospital made me wish there was a few well-organised nuns around, like the ones that set up hospitals in Ireland decades ago. Some people say they were too bossy and tough at times, but they knew something about hygiene and the care due to patients.
I was expecting this place to be a traditional society. Perhaps it is, but from a church point of view it is also mission territory. The Church is long-established but not dominant. Priests and religious are not very visible. More than half of the people are baptised Catholics but a much smaller number actually practise. While the Catholic Church is attracting religious vocations, there is also a lot of competition from Pentecostal sects.
Earlier on Tuesday evening, Liam said Mass in the home for the residents, the staff and the volunteers (including local people who came along to visit the residents). The Mass was in the central foyer of the home, the fire was lit, and the dogs came in as well - the black labrador Flipper causing occasional commotion. Mass was a very lively affair with local children playing keyboards and drum as backing to some rather catchy hymns.
It was very moving that, at the prayers of the faithful, some of the most handicapped people had a prayer to say which they recited by heart. Some of these people say very little else, and you had a sense of the effort put in to enable them deliver these simple prayers. They did the same at the section of the Eucharistic prayer where we pray for those who "have gone before us, marked with the sign of faith". Here the residents prayed for former residents who have died.
Ronan's Irish Examiner column from yesterday:
How prayer and practicality mean so much to the poor of Argentina
PRESIDENT McAleese smiled down as our neighbour lifted the tarantula. He did it so effortlessly.
Two fingers thrust forward surgically, squeezing the spider just enough to grab him but not so tight as to kill. Transferring the creature to a piece of paper. Followed by a graceful removal to the priest's garden.
It's great the way locals are so casual. When my fellow volunteer announced, 'er, there's a rather large spider in here', the missionary was all reassurance. But when Fr Liam Hayes put his head around the door, spotting this furry creature about the size of a digestive biscuit, the diagnosis changed somewhat. 'Oh, that one could bite you all right. Hold on. I'll get a neighbour. Don't kill it. They do a lot of good, you know.'
Fr Hayes's idea of 'good' is that tarantulas can kill snakes and mosquitoes. Our idea of 'good' would involve them leaving the room. Any time now would be good.
During all this drama, President McAleese and her husband Martin radiated benevolence from the photo on the mantelpiece, safe from all danger and discomfort. I have no doubt that they would have taken that spider in their stride. The president would probably have known that tarantulas are not fatal to humans. I know it too, now.
We are in Obera, a fairly desolate town in the remote province of Misiones in northern Argentina. There is only one Irishman in this place - Liam Hayes, the Divine Word Missionary priest. He's been here for 19 years. We've come here for a few weeks, to do some voluntary work and to learn a little about life here.
At the human level, there is plenty to notice. Like the priest's strong east Limerick burr. 'Hola Flipper,' he says, as he greets one of the many dogs which inhabit the mission. Flipper is unfortunately troublesome - a beast full of affection but inclined to attack the local hens. He did for 17 of them in one week a while back. Fortunately the neighbours are supportive and they mind Flipper while the priest is on his rounds.
Just before the tarantula incident, Liam took us to evening mass in one of the parish's outlying chapels. The earth is red here, and we bumped over about 10 miles of it (these roads are like ice when it rains) before reaching our destination - a red-brick chapel with no windows and doors, a few wooden benches, and a group of families from the barrio.
The parishioners are friendly but poorly-dressed. Liam says a simple mass and thanks to that Cappamore accent, his Spanish is easier to understand than the local version. He likes to conduct a discussion as part of his homily - getting people's thoughts and opinions as he analyses that day's scripture readings. After Mass, we are moved by the middle-aged man who asks if we could help by donating a window or a door to the church. It transpires that Liam started this brick chapel (a wooden shack - where he once spotted snakes in the roof as he said mass - stands next door). It seems the fixtures could be got for a few thousand pesos (about €1,000) and the locals could fit them. It is not the first time we are surprised by how much could be done with so little cash.
Last weekend, Fr Hayes said five Masses, some of them in remote chapels miles from the town of Obera, and baptised a couple of dozen children. He combines traditional faith with social action. There is spiritual reading, reflection in front of the blessed sacrament, and simple prayers at the beginning and end of journeys. Since 1993, Fr Hayes has been running homes for abandoned people in Obera. He is in charge of the health pastorate for the local diocese of Posadas. And he acts as chaplain to the local hospital, where 120 beds are all that cater for a town and hinterland of 60,000 people.
The missionary established the homes after coming face-to-face with disabled people abandoned by their families.
'I began to have sleepless nights thinking about some of the things I saw. Poor people who could not move their hands, unable to shield themselves from swarms of flies and mosquitoes tormenting their faces. And people left by the roadside.'
ONE such person was Miguel, affectionately known as Miguelito. He was discovered in sub-human conditions, having been abandoned by his father.
Since all births are registered in Argentina it was possible in time to discover more. Miguel was 22 and was born with perfect physical and mental health. His mother died when he was two. After that, he suffered various illnesses and didn't get proper medical help. Years later, his father returned to plead forgiveness for abandoning him.
'He told me he had walked long distances on mud roads with Miguel on his shoulders only to arrive at the public hospital and receive no medical attention,' says Fr Hayes. 'Sadly this is how the majority of the poorest people are treated.'
Next door to Miguel sleeps Clorinda, who neither speaks, sees nor hears, and who had been violated by the time she was found. Clorinda is one of the reasons Fr Hayes wants to put air-conditioning in the homes. 'She cries out at night sometimes. We think it is with discomfort at the terrible heat of summertime.'
Most of the residents are utterly helpless, although it is hard to be sure about the extent of their disability. Lorena, who was assisted by an Irish volunteer one night, seems completely unaware, has no movement, and occasionally gives vent to long wails. Yet at the end of the meal she croaked a 'thank you' in English.
You might think it is impossible to find happiness in such a place but there is laughter from the home's youngest resident, Joni, who has cerebral palsy, and Maria Inez, a saintly, softly-spoken person with a smile for everyone. There was happiness, too, when President McAleese came to visit Hogar Santa Teresita (the Home of Santa Teresa) last March. It was the first visit by a foreign head of state to Obera and a moment of confirmation for the Irish missionary that his work was appreciated in Ireland. Other visits are memorable for other reasons. Last week, as one of the home's newer residents, Marcello, was on the brink of death, his mother - quite by chance - came to see him for the first time in 20 years.
I don't know what news story is breaking at home as you read this, but the big news here this week is that people continue to suffer, and there doesn't seem to be enough Hogar Santa Teresitas to go round. But I am glad there are some.
The Irish volunteers' Argentinean diary can be read at www.oberalink.com.
Monday, July 05, 2004
Posted by Denis
Our host Fr Liam Hayes sat us down on Saturday night and dealt with the main issues facing volunteers working in these homes. He recommends a phased start to working with the residents, describing how a previous volunteer launched into ten-hour days and whose health broke in the second week. When in the home, we're under the supervision of a staff member and get a lot of help from Aileen, a Dublin volunteer who's an occupational therapist.
We went over last night to help at dinnertime. There's about 25 residents and most of them need help to eat. Many are children with acute cerebral palsy, others adults with physical and intellectual disabilities. Virtually all were abandoned by their families; some were found on the brink of death. In the case of one terribly handicapped child, Liam told us that 'her grandfather is her father'. Most of the residents are utterly helpless although it's hard to be sure about their exact degrees of disability. One lady we helped last night seems completely out of it, has no movement, and occasionally gives vent to long wails, but at the end of the meal croaked 'thank you' in English.
Ronan's sitting next to me, typing away. It's article day for him and he's writing on Obera so if you read Wednesday's Examiner, there it'll be. He's beginning the article with: 'President McAleese smiled down as our neighbour removed the tarantula' - the dratted creature (the tarantula, not the President) was in my bedroom and Liam insisted that it be taken out gently by a friend because 'the tarantulas are so useful for controlling the mosquitoes'. I don't know the man well enough to say, 'Blast that Francis of Assisi stuff and hand me a boot' so I watched as a grinning neighbour scooped up Old Hairy Legs in a piece of plastic and released him into the wild. And there may he stay.
Saturday, July 03, 2004
Posted by Denis
After a bumpy plane journey, we arrived in Obera late last night. Fr Hayes and some of the staff and residents met us at the airport and brought us for a meal. Then we made the 90 minute drive to Obera. Today we are geting our bearings and hopefully we will be of some use to the Hogar (Home) in the coming days and weeks.
Thursday, July 01, 2004
Posted by Denis
Just to let family and friends know that we've safely arrived in Buenos Aires and are installed in the Hotel Chile, Avenue de Mayo. We arrived here at 4.30 Irish time - a long haul from Dublin airport. It's reported here to be 'unseasonably' cold, with temperatures less than 10 degrees. However it's a crisp day and perfect for strolling about the city. I'm just returning from a walk around the Plaza de Mayo where I was nobbled by veterans of the Falklands War to sign a petition. I've no idea what for but there was no escaping them, although the atmosphere did warm a little when I said I was 'Irlandais'. The last time I saw this place was on the TV in 1981 - I'm expecting General Galtieri to appear on the balcony at any moment.
We're staying here for one night, then on to Obera tomorrow. Hopefully there'll be easy internet access there for further postings. Our phones don't work here so we're reliant on e-mail for contact.
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