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The Big Change

 

The month of May started with the lovely feast of St. Joseph the Worker

May at the Mission started out with business as usual. My journal talks about trying calaba, as they called it, which was the silly experience of tasting something that looked like a rock and being surprised to find that it tasted like (and is) clay. I learned to say "bolo" and "marambuga", which are greetings in the Gabonese language Punu. The continued power cuts resulted in my building a little shrine one evening, and I surprised myself when, having to use water from a bucket to brush my teeth during a water cut and then dropping my toothbrush on the floor, I didn't contract any diseases (to my knowledge).


My friends the Bambinette always like to take a picture or two after Sunday Mass: 


Their hair would stay the same for weeks, then you'd see them after a day and it would be completely changed.

Canon Fragelli had recently returned from another trip to Italy, during which he had visited the home and burial place of Padre Pio, San Giovanni Rotundo. He had holy pictures for all of us, which he had touched to Padre Pio's tomb.

The "shrine" grew to include the picture from Canon (top left).


One week into May, though, we had a huge change. 

My journal: 

"vendredi 07 mai 2021

Today is almost over. What a day...

This mornings was rather depressing. We found out that Canon Fragelli (who left this morning for Libreville) tested positive w/ covid … and that his lungs are "half functioning". That threw a pretty sober mood on everything -- on a day we already had a funeral.

The funeral [for the uncle of a lady who worked at the school] was actually quite beautiful. Victor chanted all the propers solemn tone. I don't know how many relatives there were Catholic, though (there were only about 6 or 7).

Between the news and the Requiem Mass (mediation on death), it was a pretty somber morning. 

Victor E. has been sick and in his room since last night. Canon S. has had a bit of a cold and sore throat since Wednesday evening, but he seems mostly okay. 

Anyway, with all our depression, when Canon was looking for a movies after dinner, I said, "Quelque chose drôle, monsieur le chanoine, pour cette jour depresée". [Something funny, Canon, for this depressing day.] And it was a very funny move about three British soldiers in WWII whose plane gets shot down over Paris. They all parachute into the city and get rescued by different people. It was very funny and we needed it. 

I hope tomorrow is a cheerier day!

Tout dans les mains du Notre Dame! [All in the hands of Our Lady!]"

A number of you reading this are likely familiar with the story of what happened to Canon Fragelli. Suffice to say here that it left a clear mark in my memories of being there: he never came back as long as I was at the Mission. It is different looking back on it, knowing that it ended well, when, in the moment, we had no idea what was going to happen. It will unfold, however, with the rest of my narrative, which I will pick up again in the next post. 

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