Day 52, Oct. 1


Today began with a group of youngsters (larger than on most days) hanging out in front of the rectory. They have to enter a quadrangle to do so. They are enthusiastic but speak no English. I took it on myself to teach them a game. The only one I could think up fast was tag. So I did. Less than five minutes later all of the children (mostly girls) were running around trying not to b “it.” I enjoyed running with them. I didn’t think could still run, changing direction and speed as I did. Nevertheless, I somehow lost energy faster than the kids. They didn’t understand why I left the game before they were finished. It’ll take them yeas to find out.
At noon I was to concelebrate Mass at a shrine to St. Thomas. I got there by taxi. The shrine was located in the mountains. These are a number of widely scattered hills each affording beautiful views of the farmland below. The reason I was sent there was to experience a charismatic Mass Indian style. Actually, it was pretty good. The music was more lively than average; but in the general area of what I would consider popular Indian music. Then, the priest got the crowd ( and there was a sizable congregation that comes every Thursday although not the 3,000 weekly attendance the founder of that Mass told me later) going with a spiel out of a rural Tennessee Pentecostal pastor’s repertoire. After that, Mass was pretty much as normal except for the 50 minute sermon on temptation. Not understanding a word, I dozed off a bit; but I wasn’t the only one. Actually, I as awake for the vast majority of the talk and the preacher did hold the people’s attention fairly well. The people came to be fed.
That evening there was a big affair in the town. It was a civic event: sort of a founders’ day. The town was celebrating the arrival of the first settlers who arrived there. N. Poolampatty was the leader and the man after whom the town is named. There were other families mentioned as well.
The ceremony began at sundown with a number of drummers coming to the church quadrangle to get us priests. We joined them and marched with them to the center of town (100 yards maybe) in font of an ancient wagon with relics of the old folks. The whole town was gathered around along with a huge number of flowers (on my walk though the fields I had noticed how many were growing flowers as a commercial venture. They grew them in rows much like one would grow cotton or peas. Now, I saw why. I it were the US, there would be several thousands of dollars of flowers sewn together in garlands.) Father Deveraj said some lengthy prayers out of a book of blessings (he later admitted that he wasn’t sure what to do because he never had this experience before). Then, everyone was sprinkled with holy water which had been blessed and the band blasted out some drum rolls and the loudspeaker played Indian music as food was offered to all. It was a sight. Father didn’t trust the hygienic integrity of the cooking and had our cook prepare our usual fare in the rectory.