A few months ago, I decided I HAD to get a bilingual Bible. I actually have two Bibles in Spanish, but after seeing another person's bilingual Bible (even if it was a Protestant one), I knew I had to have one. It hadn't even hit me that such a thing existed until I saw it, and then it was all like YES! I WANT IT.

I tried to just find one in Chihuahua, pero es no va (no go). After a bizarrely long time, it occured to me I could order one online, but all the ones I looked at were rather expensive, even before the international shipping costs. (Note to US vendors - quit giving shipping breaks to Canada and not Mexico, you racist capitalist swine.) And at last I thought of my new favorite online bookstore, Better World, which not only has a good selection and inexpensive shipping (less than $4 per book, anywhere in the world), it also gives part of all sales to literacy funds and rescues used books from extinction. Huzzah! Get good and make good.

So I went ahead and ordered a very nice-looking leather-bound Catholic bilingual Bible from them, and began to play the waiting game. This is the part I hate, because every time I order books, I want them NOW, and every day I am in a fever of anticipation and mild fear that they won't arrive. Or that when they do, no one will be around to accept them and they would get to the downtown post office and require all sorts of wheeling and dealing in order for me to get a ride down there to retrieve them. Or get hung up at customs for no particular reason (Guangzhou never did release my $50 copy of Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows). You're so vulnerable when you're in love.

Every day for the past three weeks, I've danced around the mailbox trying to catch sight of the book or a "pick up" slip, but every day, nothing. Until today! Hooray, it has arrived!

Thus, I must sing a song of praise to Spanish and Mexico. I've already covered Better World Books. Dig 'em.

1. Spanish is connected to Latin in a much purer way than English is, and I love it when Spanish words for things are like the more high-level English words. Example: yesterday, one of my adults classes asked me what "behavior" meant. I gave my usual sort of stuttering explanation until the light dawned. "OH," one of them said, and wrote down in his notebook, "Comportamente".

I love that.

2. People in Mexico are WAY more polite than Americans, and, strangely, Korea. Everyone, and I mean everyone, greets each other with "Buenos dias" or "buenos tardes". Men hold the door openfor women. If you drop something on the floor, someone else rushes to pick it up for you. All conversations start with inquiries into how you are feeling and how your family is, and people are genuinely interested. And something happens in Mexico on a daily basis that I saw maybe five times the whole year I lived in Korea - men give their seats to women on the bus, even teenage boys. Doesn't matter the age of the woman, males get up and offer their seats with a gentlemanly flourish. I saw this happen maybe five times in Korea, and always to old or pregnant women.

3. Mexico - they work hard and they play hard.

4. La comida! I know I've praised Mexican food before, but you can never praise it enough.

5. Menudo (the boy band) WAS NOT FROM MEXICO. In a related note, Bruce Lee was not Japanese.

6. Rosaries a'poppin'.

7. Mexico has day care centers, children's hospitals. extended close-knit families, babysitters, etc., but Mexicans never seem to be under the impression that raising their kids is ultimately anyone's responsibilty but their own. They're not always looking for ways to blame the school or teachers for everything their kids do, and they don't scream and threaten litigation to get everything their own way for their own needs, all other people be damned. Ejemplo: I was doing an activity with a high-level class in which they had to imagine they were hotel managers and had to come up with solutions to some problems in their hotel. One problem was there was nothing for kids to do and they ran around the hotel aimlessly. i did this about a thousand times in China, and my students there came up with good solutions involving hiring nannies, building playgrounds, etc. - pretty much what I figured were the "right" answers. But my Mexican students, all women with children, unanimously came up with ideas to educate people on how to take care of their own kids and how to spend more time with their own families. Bravo!

8. The kids I see in Mass are the most well-behaved kids I have ever seen in church. Ever.

This has gotten a bit away from my Bible, hasn't it?

I've always been interested in different religions and philosophies, and a few years ago, I read quite a bit about Islam.  One of the concepts I liked when I was reading was that of the "revert", the idea that people do not convert to Islam, they revert, because their original nature was that of submission to God.  I like the idea that the process of coming closer and submitting to God is reverting to your true nature and not something forced on you against your natural inclinations.  I also like the word for personal reasons, because I'm neither a "cradle Catholic" nor a convert to Catholicism, and the term "revert" expresses what happened rather succinctly.
My mother and my maternal side of the family were Catholic, and therefore, when I was a baby, I was baptised into the Church.  However, my father was not, and even my mother was not too keen on actually raising me Catholic.  They both decided that I should decide for myself and be free from dogma and all that stuff, even though, when I expressed a desire to go to Mass or church and learn more about Jesus and read the Bible, I was actively discouraged (for a while.  I am quite stubborn when I want to be.).  So I grew up without much Catholic input, did not go to parochial school, did not go to Mass, did not go to catechism classes, didn't make a first communion or  confirmation, did not learn much about the Church at all except a little about Jesus and Mary and "you wouldn't like it".
Therefore, when I decided as an adult I was interested in this whole Catholic thing, I found myself in an odd position.  I was baptised, so technically I didn't need to go through RCIA.  But I knew very little about the Church, the Mass, the teachings, even basic Mass protocol.  I was terrified the first time I went to Mass of my own accord.  I was sure I would be thrown out as an outsider, an imposter, a fraud.  I knew better than to take holy communion, but everything else I had to learn by looking out of the corner of my eyes at what everyone else was doing.  I left shaky with relief, and determined to return.  Gradually, the fear left me and I became more and more sure, against all that I thought was logical and normal for me, that I wanted to get confirmed. 
God handed me a gift right when I needed it; my parish offered a confirmation class for adults, and I grabbed the chance, finally making my first confession, confirmation, and communion.  But still, for years, I didn't have a snappy answer to the question, "How long have you been a Catholic?"  It seemed weird and confusing to answer honestly with, "Well, I was born Catholic but didn't get any instruction and then I decided to get confirmed as an adult..."  Now I can just say, "I reverted a few years ago", and then if someone wants more details, they can ask. 
Needless to say, it's the best thing I ever did, too.

I have a new favorite saint - Saint Gemma Galgani. She's not as famous in the West as Francis or Therese or Padre Pio, but she's a good one. We've been spending a lot of time together, she and I, and, inspiried by her example and Lent, I've been praying to share in the suffering of Jesus, just a little bit.

It occured to me during Mass that I already have my own, so to speak, stigmata. Both the crucifixes over the altars at Saint Anthony's show Jesus with torn, bloody knees, and it finally hit me - Jesus' knees hurt. So I might not bleed from my palms, but I can feel Our Lord's pain in my knees and meditate on the Passion and offer it up just like Pio. Jesus walked on swollen knees. Jesus knows how it feels to turn just a little and have them shoot pain up your legs. Jesus knows how it feels to practically have to drag them by sheer willpower. And I do, too.

Jesus also decided to let me share in his suffering by letting me pull/throw out/strain my lower back yesterday. I almost never have back pain, amazingly, but yesterday I pulled somethin' because I can't bend over or sit or pick anything up without a whole bunch of hurting. So I can just be mean and gripe about it or I can see it as another manifestation of my personalized stigmata. Jesus' back hurt carrying the cross. Jesus couldn't bend over during the Passion without wrenching something.

If this sounds like I'm being sarcastic, I'm really not. Every time I have to clench my teeth to keep from shouting from the pain and I have to walk around like an 80-year-old woman because I can't go any faster without hurting, I remember that Jesus hurt like this and a million times worse - for me. And for all these ungrateful people who try to minimize him and ignore and blaspheme him and say he doesn't even exist. He would have gone through all that even for the worst person on earth (Christopher Hitchens?) alone. And thnking of that suddenly makes me feel a whole lot better.

I love the rosary, and I've recently gotten into making twine rosaries. Once you make them, though, you have to have someone to give them to, so, besides sending them to various missions which desperately need them, I've decided I will also send one to whomever wants one, especially prisoners. If you want one or know someone who does, just send me an email at amberrollins[at]gmail.com and give me your address. La Paz de Jesucristo!

Seriously...

Lent is a wonderful thing. When I was a kid and had only the most nebulous idea of what Lent was, I thought it was all about giving things up and suffering. Wrong! To quote the American Catholic web site, "Lent is a time of choice. The desert is a place of choice. Confront the choices you have made, the choices you are making and the choices you have yet to make."

Some Lenten web resources:

Lent: Call to Conversion

US Conference of Catholic Bishops Lenten Resources

EWTN Lent Calendar

Creighton College's Online Ministry Page Online retreat, Stations of the Cross, tons of good stuff.

For a whole lot of reasons, my favorite pope is John XXIII. Now, thanks to the good and amazing Jennifer F. of the Et Tu? blog, I have what's called the Daily Decalogue of John XXIII. I find this wonderful not only because I already love John the 23rd, but because this apeals greatly to my psychological make-up. Whenever I have to commit to do anything for a long time, even if it's something I love and want to do, I suddenly can't do it. But for only one day...OK. I can handle that.

1) Only for today, I will seek to live the livelong day positively
without wishing to solve the problems of my life all at once.



2) Only for today, I will take the greatest care of my appearance: I
will dress modestly; I will not raise my voice; I will be courteous in
my behaviour; I will not criticize anyone; I will not claim to improve
or to discipline anyone except myself.



3) Only for today, I will be happy in the certainty that I was created
to be happy, not only in the other world but also in this one.



4) Only for today, I will adapt to circumstances, without requiring
all circumstances to be adapted to my own wishes.



5) Only for today, I will devote 10 minutes of my time to some good
reading, remembering that just as food is necessary to the life of the
body, so good reading is necessary to the life of the soul.



6) Only for today, I will do one good deed and not tell anyone about it.



7) Only for today, I will do at least one thing I do not like doing;
and if my feelings are hurt, I will make sure that no one notices.



8) Only for today, I will make a plan for myself: I may not follow it
to the letter, but I will make it. And I will be on guard against two
evils: hastiness and indecision.



9) Only for today, I will firmly believe, despite appearances, that
the good Providence of God cares for me as no one else who exists in
this world.



10) Only for today, I will have no fears. In particular, I will not be
afraid to enjoy what is beautiful and to believe in goodness. Indeed,
for 12 hours I can certainly do what might cause me consternation were
I to believe I had to do it all my life.

Best Christmas ever!

To begin, last Sunday (23rd), Kevin and I got our marriage blessed in church. We originally got married at a JP in Texas. Quick, easy, affordable. Neither of us was into any churchin' at the time, and we didn't have the money for a church wedding even if we had been. Since we got all religious last year, we've been wanting to do that, and FINALLY it happened. So now we're not living in legal sin any more. I never had any doubt that our relationship was put together by God, but now we've got Church backing on that one. Take that, you doers of iniquity!

Speaking of iniquity, Kevin no longer has any because he got taken into the Church officially on the same day! Yep, got married, baptised, confirmed, and First Communion at the same time. It took me decades to get all of that accomplished and he gets 'em in one day. Truthfully, though, he had been waiting a long time, over a year.

Then on Christmas, we went to Mass and I got asked to be a lector, so I got to read the scriptures during Christmas mass! I'm sure all the way on the other side of the world, my mother felt goosebumps. Lectors at our church wear white robes, so I got to look rather angelic as well. My old house back in Texas probably burst into flames right at the moment I put it on. House of evil! I've been a reader before, but I thought it was a great honor to do it during Christmas Mass.

We had four priests co-presiding, too. One was our usual, Father John, who is smart and kind and wonderful. Another was Father Jerry, who is a happy guy with a happy round face and is from the Philippines. Another was a really gentle Korean priest I'd never seen before who'd come back from being a missionary in (and getting kicked out of) Russia. The fourth was the local bishop's secretary, who was young, sported a cool little mustache-goatee combo, and was much more handsome than a priest should decently be. He was also kind and sweet and soft-spoken and smart, be he looked kinda like a Korean Johnny Depp. Yowza.

Let me get my mind off of that. ANYWAY, after Mass, there was a Christmas party in the basement, with tons of food, kids singing cute Christmas songs, a decent band, games, and a raffle. I was actually praying not to win, because I don't need much and because so many of the other people there would so obviously have enjoyed them more.

See, Kevin and I and about three other people are the only Western English-speaking people at the church. Almost everyone else is from the Philippines, with some contingencies from Africa, Thailand, etc. Something I didn't know before I moved to Korea is that Korea has an awful lot of migrant workers coming in to do whatever dirty work needs doing, and most of them are from the Philippines. The Philippines is overwhelmingly Catholic (whoo hoo!), and English is taught there from a young age along with Tagalog, so all the Filippinos at church speak perfect, albeit accented in a rather Hispanic way, English. It's because of them that there are so many English programs at our church, so thanks, guys! They needed and wanted the prizes much more than I did, so I was glad to not win anything.

The highlight of the party came when the band invited people to dance, and someone managed to get Father John onstage. Then they got all the priests, and then all the nuns, too. They were all up there boogeying away to "Play That Funky Music, White Boy". I tried to take pictures but they turned out all blurry.

Then, to cap it all off, Kevin and I discovered a bus route that will take us from almost right in front of church to almost right in front of our apartment building. This doesn't sound like much, but it was a major discovery, since the alternative way we'd been going every week was catching a bus or a taxi, dropping off at one stop, catching another bus, riding it to the department store in Suwon, and then walking 15 or 20 minutes to church. We got the whole thing wrapped up in one quite pleasant bus ride, almost door-to-door, and that makes it whole lot easier and more pleasant.

Best. Christmas. Ever.

While in Guangzhou, we had a chance to visit the gorgeous and wonderful Sacred Heart Cathedral. It's far more beautiful than I captured with my mortal digital camera, but you can get a taste of the glory.

I've uploaded a whole set of photos of our sweet little church, Immaculate Conception, plus one of my St. Therese of Lisieux flower. Check 'em out or go to hell!

Today is Ash Wednesday, and since we are still in the midst of our delightful vacation, we got to go to Mass this morning. I hate getting up, but I love these early morning Masses (yeah, real early, 8 or 8:30. Hey, this is early to a vampire.) The traffic is light, the sun shines through the windows, everyone's all excited. Anyway, since today is a special day - kicks off Lent, and the beginning of the penitential season leading up to Easter - everyone at Mass got what I jocularly (ho ho) call the Dark Mark.

If you're not Catholic (and I know you're not or I would have felt it even as I was typing this), then you might not know about this. On AW, the priests burn the palms fron last Palm Sunday (OK, they probably did it a couple of days before) and then mix the ashes with a little oil. Then everyone who wants it comes to the front of the church and gets a coal-black cross on their forehead to remember the reason for the season. This is a serious time. Really. Because I don't need Mel Gibson's psychosis to tell me that the events leading up to Easter are not at all pleasant. Therefore, the best thing to do is to FEEL SORRY ABOUT IT.

I know this sounds as if I'm taking this rather lightly, but I'm not. I do feel bad about it, and I shall try to do my best to think about what this all means. I don't have a whole lot to give up for Lent, but I will say the Sorrowful Mysteries of the rosary every day, and try to cut down on the Coke.

Now, as Bender says in my favorite Futurama episode, Hell is Other Robots (condemned by the Space Pope), "Now back to the office for an enjoyable evening of fasting and repentance!"

Next week is Ash Wednesday, which is the beginning of Lent. (Already? Didn't we just get finished with Christmas?) In the grand tradition of my childhood, I have to decide what to give up for Lent. This means, of course, choosing something you don't like anyway and then making a big deal about not doing/having it:

- sinus headaches
- allergies
- boogers
- eating liver
- math homework (I always liked to picture myself taking on the math teacher and yelling "It's against my religion!")
- other people making a whole buncha noise
- pop music

OK, this is a joke. I really do want to do Lent right this year. I really don't have all that much to give up, though. The most viable candidate is, of course...

dah dah dah!

FOOD.

Not that I'm going to completely give up food. But I probably should make an effort to not indulge my every attainable desire (I give up avacados!).

Also, I give up Chinese people driving. I have a message for the people of China: You are good. You are smart. You are honorable. BUT YOU CANNOT DRIVE. STOP IT.