2/15/09
After a solid evening of pickup soccer, teaching guys to throw a frisbee, running ten laps of the field, fast, and showering under the stars, I arrive at Niña Fermina’s, where she is watching a re-broadcast of the new archbishop’s swearing-in ceremony.
The former archbishop is there (not dead), looking old but healthy. Provoking curiosity about intra-Church personnel management. Did he decide he wanted a nice retirement at his coffee farm in the mountains, writing his memoirs to the sound of the beneficio machinery, perhaps burning off steam on deep-sea fishing trips with the president’s nephew (who once took a friend of mine on a date)? Or did the Church hierarchy reach their shepherd’s crook from behind the curtain and yank him out of the job? Perhaps both? Niña Fermina doesn’t know, but unequivocally expresses her distaste for him, a distaste she suggests is widely shared. My mind lopes into a realm of heavy conjecture: historically, priests loved by the people = priests detested by the government…so perhaps priests detested by the people = priests loved by the government? Maybe those fishing trips aren’t so fanciful? But I must hold my speculations in check.
The new archbishop follows President Tony Saca to the eagle-shaped lecturn. Blessedly, he is very easy to understand, although Niña Fermina’s first comment is habla un poco mudo (he speaks like a mute, or rather, sounds like he has a slight speech impediment). I rib her for making this her first comment on the new archbishop. Mudo or not, he loses little time, at least according to Salvadoran standards: after naming the many dignitaries there, which takes at least five minutes; then recognizing each preceding archbishop of El Salvador, who have all, it seems, achieved a condensed identity of five or six adjectives, surprisingly few of which are repeated (another five or ten minutes); and another five minutes of platitudes, he jumps straight into his role as adviser on national policy. To Niña Fermina’s approval, he doesn’t name a particular party or politician in his behests that the government more aggressively approach the problem of poverty. Good enough, poverty’s a solid place to start, especially in a country where Monseñor Romero’s image and memory are still rife. But then, to my delight, he moves straight into a condemnation of the proposed mines in several parts of the country. I still don’t know what kind of mines they’re to be (gold, said one guy, but I don’t trust anything until I’ve heard it at least 4 times), but the issue seems to be heating up. I see more and more NO A LA MINERIA! bumperstickers on buses (note for former opponents of Corridor H: every time I see these I convulsively reimagine them as white-on-blue LA MINERIA: MIERDA DE TORO! stickers, which amuses me), and hear more and more mentions of the mines in conversation. He links his opposition to the mines to a simple theological argument about our mandate to protect the environment, expanding the discussion in a nice way rather than getting into ugly descriptions of the contamination of water sources with lead which I hear have resulted from previous mines. Apparently all the parishes have sent in petitions against the mines. Closing ranks. I’m astonished this was the new archbishop’s first priority on the job, next to a shout-out to the poor. Bold. To the point. I like him already. So does Niña Fermina. But we’ll see, she says.
During the new guy’s litany of all his predecessors, a long applause erupts when he mentions Monseñor Oscar Arnulfo Romero. After finishing the litany, he makes another, special mention of Romero, invoking his spirit to watch over them tonight. I am reminded of my commentary in an earlier post about how odd it is that the commanders from the civil war, both sides, are now working with each other in the legislature. Here’s why: President Tony Saca, a pious Catholic, has just spoken to this crowd, and they have applauded him. He is the leader of the ARENA party, whose founder, Roberto D’Aubuisson, also a Catholic, ordered Romero’s assassination (according to broad consensus). D’Aubuisson is still commemorated on the T-shirts of people campaigning for current ARENA candidates. Am I crazy, or is this crazy?! Tony Saca could have on a D’Aubuisson T-shirt himself, right now! Ok, that is crazy…but, Does he feel any qualms? Does he talk about this in confession? Does he choke up? Or has he shut his mind to the cascade of contradictions and moral conundrums in favor of a both-and, let’s-bull-on-ahead approach, consigning anything suspect to the dark muck of himself, where he won’t have to remember it exists until he meets the counsel of his maker? His smile is certainly the smile of someone who could have done this. I can’t tell precisely what to think or feel about this whole situation, which is partly why it fascinates me.
Comments are welcome.
