Travel Playlist

A playlist is essential for setting the right tone. Just imagine the awkwardness if you messed up and included "Ding, dong, the witch is dead" on the playlist you listened to while driving to her funeral with your wife. Why you'd probably be including "Baby, come back" on your next playlist.

My sister and father are the real playlist masters of the family. But I need a good set of tunes to listen to on my long journey home (remember I'm traveling through Central America, entering the States in Texas, and heading to Boston overland). Here's what I'll be listening to starting tomorrow evening; my hope is that it strikes the right balance between leaving and arriving, between Andahuaylillas and Boston. What do you think? (I've linked to each song if you want to listen).

Dance Video

Here's a video of the dance that we presented the Festival of Folkloric Dances honoring the 21st anniversary of FyA 44. The audio is pretty low for the first 5 or 6 minutes, but that's what happens when people are filming on their cellphones. Enjoy.

(If you're looking for me, I'm the big white guy.)

Quarterly Review 7 - Video

It helps, now and then, to step back

and take the long view.

-Prayer Honoring Pd. Oscar Romero

With the Quarterly Review Video, my aim is to give you the long view in a short time. This quarter I wanted to use a song that is well known here in Peru, a song that captures the sound of Peruvians partying.

Ráfaga is an Argentine group, but they're all over the radio these days in Cusco. So their biggest hit, “Una Cerveza” (A Beer) is the perfect choice. The lyrics (which you can find after the jump) are about “dedicating [one]self to alcohol” after a lover walks away. Yet the music is clearly joyful. That's what a lot of Andean music is like – sad topics sung happily. There is great joy inside the tears. There is hope inside the sorrow. There's fun to be had even when life is painful.

Don't worry dear readers, I haven't recently had my heart broken by a faithless lover. But I am having fun despite the pains that I have shared in. I'm not dedicating myself to alcohol, but if we're celebrating, I'm down to share una cerveza.

FyA 44 Anniversary - Festival de Danza Folkóricas

The Festival of Folkloric Dances is the highlight of FyA 44's anniversary celebrations. Every afternoon for the two weeks before the festival the school is open late as teachers and students spend hours practicing. The festival itself, as you may remember, lasts for hours. It's scheduled to start at two o'clock, and opens by 3. Then it lasts for at least 4 hours of dance after dance after dance. Parents, students, and staff all participate.

FyA 44 Anniversary - Mass

The FyA logo has been marked onto the side of the mountain using white clay, which can only mean one thing: it's the school's anniversary week!

Musical Mass in Urcos

As regular readers may know, we celebrate a small house mass almost every Monday evening with the religious and volunteers of the area. Participants include Pd. Calilo, Hna, Rosario, the 6 practicantes (student teachers), María (the Spaniard who works at the parish play room), and the JVs. Hosting duties are shared on a basic rotation, and the host always prepares a dinner to follow mass. It's a good tradition celebrating spirituality and social justice in a simple way and in a communal context.*

But sometimes, there are special guests. And if you have special guests, you have to throw a party. And if you have to throw a party, there should be bountiful libations. And if you need bountiful libations, you should go to the Jesuit Residence (because Jesuits have a very liberal interpretation of poverty). So last week, when we had the four members of Siembra and Juan José Chukisengo in town, Monday night mass was held on Wednesday night at the JesRes in Urcos.

Having musical guests at mass at the JesRes means special music provided for mass. Siembra and Chukisengo took turns singing/playing. Pd. Antonio said the mass, which is a treat because he obviously enjoys doing it. After mass ended, Pd. Calilo put everyone to work. Soon plates of food were being passed around, empty glasses were handed out, and enough different alcohols to suit everyone's preferences were pulled out of the chest in the corner. After almost an hour of eating and talking, the plates were cleared and the music began.

This wasn't a sit down and listen type of concert. It was a sing along, request songs, and get up and dance kind of concert. Really, concert isn't the right word for it, though I don't actually know what word I would use instead. What do you call it when there's no audience because everyone is doing music together, though the most talented musicians are obviously doing the most music? If you have an answer, leave it in the comments.

Pd. Calilo loves music, loves dancing, and loves being the center of attention. So of course he danced. He waltzed with Hna. Rosario, he danced marinero (a coastal dance) with one of the women from Siembra, and waltzed again with one of the practicantes. Chukisengo, who comes from the classical world, jumped right in with Siembra. It was a simple matter of asking for the key of the song, and off they all went. María, who sings with a band at bars in Cusco sometimes, sang some American music (she mostly sings American rock). Pd. Calilo and Chukisengo wanted to play some music for the three Americans in the room, only to be stymied by the age gap between them and us. But there was also singing in French and Italian, as well as beloved songs from Spain. The list on my iPod called “Songs to Look Up” grew substantially.

It was almost midnight when the party finally ended. The wise move was to go to bed as soon as you got home, because the next day was the anniversary of FyA 44. But the energy brought by a good time takes awhile to dissipate, so I didn't fall asleep for awhile. These kinds of nights are some of my favorite memories from being part of the extended Jesuit community in Quispicanchi.

*See what I did there?

Grupo Siembra

Juan José Chukisengo wasn't the only musical artist to return to Andahuaylillas last week, the Catholic music group Siembra* came back at Hermana Rosario's invitation to provide the music for the school's anniversary mass. They spent Monday through Wednesday going through all the classrooms in the school and practicing songs. They picked out about 20 students to form the mass choir, and another 8 to be the band.

Siembra's music is steeped in liberation theology. The kingdom of God is identifiable by it's “perfect justice.” It's also very pretty. Students of all ages sang with gusto during the mass, even some 11^th grade boys who belted out the closing hymn to Mary with all the fervor (and none of the musicality) you could ask for.

For those who are curious about Siembra's music, here's a link to their page, and a video of a live performance from 2013.

* “Sow,” as put seeds the dirt.

Piano in the Andes

Last May, Peruvian Pianist Juan José Chukisengo, came to Quispicanchi to do lend his services to the service of the Jesuit projects. Among everything else that happened last week, Chukisengo's visit didn't take the spotlight, but it was still a big part of the week.

Once again he gave a benefit concert at the Compañía in Cusco and then a series of free concerts at towns and communities up and down the province of Quispicanchi. I got to listen to him three different times: at his concert in the church in Andahuaylillas, and performances for the high school and elementary school students of FyA 44.

The three concerts were very different. The concert for the people of Andahuaylillas was a fairly straightforward concert. He introduced each piece and then played it. The concerts at school were different. Mr. Chukisengo approached it as a sort of musical lecture. He highlighted music as order from chaos; from so many keys comes the sounds of a symphony. He made much of the comparisons between the visual art of the church (the locale for the high school concert) and the auditory art of music.

The elementary school students were probably the best audience. They were delighted with a change in the routine, and Chukisengo's manner of presenting to children is great for that age group. The concert for Primaria was very similar to last year's – including many of the same numbers and the same participatory bit with 6 students playing on his piano with him.

I've been here for 20 months, and Chukisengo is the only artist I've seen come through and give concerts like this. Far too often, the “fine”* arts are reserved for the rich. It seems to me that Chukisengo doesn't see it that way. In all his concerts he presents music as something accessible to all, giving students the chance to play on his piano, speaking to the transcendence of music, of it's ability to reach people of all cultures. I don't know how Mr. Chukisengo got connected to the Cusco area Jesuits, but I'm glad he did. Once a year, he leaves the concert halls of Europe (he lives in Germany) and lends his services to the Andean people. The work Chukisengo does includes two aspects of service that rarely interact. His benefit concert raises money, and his community concerts serve the community directly. Anyone interested in serving the poor could do worse than following this pianist's example.

*The word “fine” in fine arts itself carries a tone of superiority that's never sat well with me. What makes Beethoven better and Tupac?

San Pedro, San Pablo 2016

Wow, ask and you shall receive. The internet speed picked after my last post. To celebrate, here's a post with plenty of visuals.

Part of the beauty of a two year international volunteer program is witnessing the yearly rhythm of a community more than once. The first time it's all new; the second time it has a ring of familiarity. So this year the feast of Saints Peter and Paul, June 29, was something to look forward to.

For those of you who don't remember all the details from last year's post about SanPedro, San Pablo, basically you need to know that Saint Peter is the patron saint of Andahuaylillas, and his feast day is a major holiday.*

The parish decided to switch from dancing saqras (demons) and do a dance called cholo gorilaso. So the costumes weren't so colorful, and there weren't masks. I actually didn't dance with the parish this year because they didn't start practicing until two days before, and I couldn't bail on my students to go learn a dance. But I really enjoyed the day. I was able to take in the day as a spectator. I got lots of video of dances and had more time to play Foosball with students.

Here's a video showing some bits of the festival. 

1. A glimpse of the fireworks display on the plaza the night of the 28th. There's a similar fireworks show for the town's anniversary in December. Could you do this in the US? No. Is it a public saftey hazard? Absolutely. But is it cool? You bet.
2. Mestiza Coyacha. "In the dance Qoyacha young people of both sexes participate. The men represent young Spainards and the women represent mestizas (mixed Spanish and indigenous origins). The Spanish men learn about mestizo customs dancing with the women, then the men invite the women to dance polka. It represents encounter between to cultures.
3. Cholo Qorilazo. This is basically a cowboy dance. The men (the cholos qorilazos), dedicate all their work to care for the women and their horses. Cholo is a multilayered word that in this context means peasant worker (but in Lima is used as a racial slur). Qorilazo means "golden lassoo"
4. Ccapacc Negro. This comparsa is sort of the host of San Pedro, San Pablo. They get the honor of carrying Saint Peter in the procession. Their dance is dedicated to black slaves. It is supposed to address the question "What if the slaves were free?" The black masks are a traditional part of the dance, and I can imagine this dance would play as well in the United States as it does in Peru.
5. Merjeña. These are my students dancing! The 4th year class of FyA 44 always carries St. Ignatius in the procession and dances this dance. It mocks the hacnedados, the plantation owners. Thus the very long noses on the masks. The men stumble around getting drunker and drunk and the women dance with them. Usually the men have bottles of Cusqueña beer in their hands, but the high school students uses sodas instead. The most exciting part of the dance is when they shake the beers up and spray foam all over each other (and sometimes the spectators). The dance often ends with all the men "passing out" on the ground.
6. Tinku. This dance, which originates in Puno, is based on an old tradition that goes by the same name. It's a ritualistic form of combat in which combatants swing at each other but don't actually make contact or cause physical harm. Unfortunately I was only able to film the start of their dance. It's a very high energy and fun dance to watch.

Follow the jump to see more pictures.

Quarterly Review 6 - Video

It helps, now and then, to step back

and take the long view.

-Prayer Honoring Pd. Oscar Romero

Last quarter I introduced a new element to the Quarterly Review – the video. It's a chance to step back and see what's happened in the last three months.

The song this quarter is “Rather Be” by Clean Bandit.* I love this song from the first time I heard it because it's not often that you hear a real violin on a pop radio station. Clean Bandit's whole sound is a cool mix of synthetic and acoustic instruments. Anyways I picked the song for a very specific reason.

After an evening of hanging out with my friend Bobbi and his family I wrote to another JV about the night: “... I had that feeling of rightness, or peace, that you get every now and then (you get those right? Or is that just me?). Just for that moment I felt like I could live here forever.” I can't live her forever, nor do I want to. But for now, there's no place I'd rather be.

Key events this quarter include:

Sunday Song - The Shepherd Song

This seems like the most appropriate song for the feast of the Good Shepherd. Unfortunately I don't a recording of an old friend of mine singing this song, so this version from Mississippi will have to do. 

Shout outs to the Good Shepherdesses who taught me I was kind, good, and important.

Holy Week in Andahuaylillas, 2016

The plaza of Cusco on Holy Monday

My second experience of Holy Week in Andahuaylillas could not have been more different from my first. All the traditions were the same, of course, but the meaning of them was different for me.

Last year I was new to Andahuaylillas. Everything about the celebration of Holy Week was new. I was observing a culture that I did not yet know. Catholic means universal, but there's a lot of diversity within the Church, and that was so clearly on display during Holy Week.

This year I'm not new. The celebration of Holy Week isn't new. I've seen (almost) all of it before. So this year I was able to enter more deeply into the mysteries of Holy Week. I wasn't as distracted by the role of participant-observer because I knew what to look for. And what I looked for was Mary.

Last year was the first year I really gave Mary's experience during Holy Week any real thought. This year it was almost all I focused on. When did Mary arrive in Jerusalem? Was she filled with pride to see the crowds her son drew? Where did Mary celebrate the Passover Seder? Was she there the next day when the crowd shouted out “Crucify him”? Who held her as her son was slowly murdered before her? When did she receive the good news of the Resurrection? Did Jesus come to her, or did Mary of Magdala come running to knock on Mary's door before heading to the Upper Room because she knew that a disciple's grief pales in comparison to a mother's?

In the processions of Good Friday and Easter Sunday, I and many other people in Andahuaylillas walked with Mary. We walked with her in her son's funeral procession. We walked with her when she was dressed all in white for the joy of Easter.

There are two moments that are most striking to me from the Triduum in Andahuaylillas. The first came at the end of the Good Friday Procession. In front of the crowds on the steps of the church, Mary's statue is brought forward and bows before the glass coffin that contains the statue of Jesus. It is a moment of grief. A moment of defeat.

The second came at the end of the Easter Sunday procession. The host, the Risen Christ, leads the procession around the plaza and up the steps of the church. After the host is brought into the temple, the statue of Mary is turned around to face the people. This time she kneels to the crowds – a gesture of gratitude for the accompaniment given on Good Friday. She is brought into the temple facing backwards, constantly looking towards the crowd. In that image I see Mary taking on the role of intercessor. “You walked with me on my darkest day,” she says to us “I will not forget you on yours. I will walk with you, and I will tell my son to help you.”

Both those moments are shown in a video that I'll post tomorrow. The rest of today's post will explain all about the celebrations shown in tomorrow's video and my reflections on them. Follow the jump to read about my 2^nd (and last) experience of Holy Week in Andahuaylillas/Cusco. I know this post is really long, but I especially encourage Catholic readers to read all of it. There's a lot that US Catholics can learn from Latin American Catholics.

Tuesday Song - Santa María del Camino

I failed to post a song last Sunday. Here's a final Lenten song. 

Mary's a big deal for Catholics. She's an even bigger deal for Latino Catholics. As we get ready for the celebration of Holy Week, I'm reflecting on what Holy Week was like for all the people around Jesus.

The gospel tells us nothing about Mary's Passion, so until last year I hadn't given it much thought. After last year's Good Friday procession with Mary, these were my thoughts:

I've never given much thought to Mary's passion. Walking with Mary I focused on her sorrow of watching her son tortured, humiliated, and killed. No parent should have to bury a child. I wonder if, while watching her son die on the cross, Mary got mad at God. Did she think, “this isn't what I signed up for.” She took a big risk when she said yes to God at the annunciation, and on Good Friday all that she got from that risk was taken away. It also made me wonder about her reunion with her risen son on Easter. Would that every murdered son - and daughter - could be returned to their mother after three days in the tomb.

 It's clear to me that Mary lived through some serious stuff. So inviting her to come walk with you on the road is inviting someone who knows the depths of pain and the heights of joy.

When the road gets lonely, when it seems futile. When you feeling like giving Big G the silent treatment because "this isn't what I signed up for," call on Mary. She gets it.

Translation after the jump.

Sunday Song - Libertador de Nazareth

Jesus has so many titles. One of them is Liberator. In the same country where A Theology of LIberation was written, calling Jesus the "Liberator from Nazareth" isn't just another fancy way to address Jesus, it's an expression of the firm belief that Jesus came to liberate, that the poor have the right to luchar to struggle for their liberation. 

And you gotta love the visual interpretation of the song's message chosen by the artist in the video. 

Lyrics after the jump.

Sunday Song: Sumaq

Rachel and I just came back to Andahuaylillas after a month in Ocongate. Ocongate is farther up in the mountains, and therefore the Quechua language is much more in use. Most of the mass parts were sung in Quechua, and the sermon was given in Spanish and Quechua. This is the Sumaq, the "Holy, Holy" that was sung at mass last night.

Sunday Song - Lift Every Voice

At my parish we sing this song every Sunday of Black History Month. So that's reason enough to make it today's Sunday Song. But Lent starts this Wednesday, and this Lent I'll be following the Ignatian Solidarity Network's "Life Every Voice" blog which will be covering "addressing America’s original sin of racism through the lens of Ignatian spirituality and the daily readings." I suggest you follow it too. I know one of the 3 contributors personally, and she's a person who speaks with the kind of intelligence and authority that gives you no choice but to listen up. 

Lyrics are in the video, and in English. 

Sunday Song - Begin Again

Monday I began work again. It's the start of a new work year in Andahuaylillas. 2nd year is a new beginning to all things in JV life. This year began well. I'm looking forward to it.  

Sunday Song: Ven, Ven, Señor, no tardes

It's the last Sunday of Advent and I haven't posted a single Peruvian advent song! Time to remedy that. 

Why is this Spanish-language advent song sung to the tune of an African-American Christmas song? I don't know. But in the familiar tune I hear the fulfillment of wish so dearly in the Spanish lyrics.

Come, Lord, don't delay...for we are waiting for you.

Translation after the jump.

Letter Home

Is it weird to reblog your own content? Yes. But since this first was published online at the blog commonweal (where my father is a regular contributor), it just seemed easier to copy-paste it from there. Plus, his "notes by way of orientation" are useful for anyone who isn't familiar with my home parish.

Anyways, here's the letter I wrote to St. Katharine Drexel parish after one year of service.

A couple of notes by way of orientation:  
1) "God is good...all them time....And all the time...God is good" is almost as familiar a call-and-response prayer of greeting in the Black church across the US as "The Lord be with you...and with your spirit" is for Catholics. 
2) "Sr. Mary" ran the afterschool program and summer camp at our parish for 33 years and mentored a generation of young people in and around Roxbury. 

Dear Parish Family,

God is good all the time, and all the time God is good. When we see each other, we rejoice.

God is good here in the mountain town of Andahuaylillas, Peru.

God is good at Fe y Alegría 44, the Jesuit-run school I teach religion at. I see His goodness reflected in the faces of my 400 elementary school students as they sing songs like “Padre Abraham” (shout out to Summer Camp for giving me a fun song to translate and teach), as they draw their image of heaven, as they pray for their classmates' ill family members. I feel God being good when the teachers help me with the difficult students, and when the student who I had pegged as the worst behaved student at the school proved Sr. Mary right that there are no bad children, and by the end of the year was the most helpful student in his classroom.

God is good at Parroquia San Pedro Apostol (St. Peter the Apostle Parish), the 345 year old parish in this town that is dubbed the “Sistine Chapel of the Andes.” I hear Her goodness in hymns sung in Quechua (the most spoken indigenous language in the world) that give praise to Apu Tatayku (Dear Father God). I dance Big G's goodness out in traditional dances on the feast of Saints Peter and Paul, only after carrying God's goodness as part of the procession that saw all 72 saint statues carried out of the church and paraded around town.

God is good in the rural community of Secsencaya, where I go every Tuesday to help the pastoral assistant out with catechism. You can't expect everyone to come to the church to hear the gospel; sometimes the church has to bring the gospel out to everyone. As the pastoral assistant reminds the kids, we praise God in everything we do if we do it with joy. When we play soccer, when we watch movies, when we sing songs, when we listen to the Bible reading, when we pray – we praise God in our rural catechism class.

God is good on Thursday evenings, when all the foreign volunteers (from the US, from Spain, and from Lima) come together with the Jesuits and a Sister of the Sacred Heart to share a Mass and meal of reflection and sharing of our experiences. I taste God's goodness whenever we host Mass and I bake the communion bread that St. Katharine's offers up on Holy Thursday.

God is good in this Catholic – this universal – Church. That universality is so striking here. But universality doesn't mean uniformity. Mass parts are so easily recognizable and the feast days are so dazzling different. Just as some people might look at our parish and doubt our claim to be Catholic, it would be easy to look at Andean Catholicism and doubt that the people here are even monotheistic. But we know that God makes himself known to each people through culturally relevant means. We know that God speaks every language, and is a native of every culture.

What I've learned here is what I've always known. The more I live, the more I learn just how true it is. As I reach the halfway point of my two years of striving to live out the four JVC* values of Spirituality, Simple Living, Community, and Social Justice in this small town in the Andes, I learn and re-learn every day that God is good all the time...and all the time God is good.
I am so blessed to have grown up in such a profoundly spiritual parish community. Please keep me in your prayers in 2016 and know that I will do the same. God bless. And when we see each other again, we will rejoice.

-Benjamin Hill

*Jesuit Volunteer Corps. That's the name of my program.

Sunday Song - Happy Birthday

To the Best. You know who you are.