Today being Ash
Wednesday, the beginning of the Lenten season, I woke up extra “early” at 9:00
a.m. in order to attend an 11:00 a.m. mass at Our Lady of Mercy. I use to attend Iglesia de las Religiosas de Maria Inmaculada (Casa Madre) for mass every Sunday; since it is about a twenty minute walk from my
residencia, however I did not feel welcome there. In Madrid, the local churches are rather
small, and likewise there are not many parishioners. Typically, parishes only celebrate mass once
or twice on Sunday. At Maria Inmaculada
the parishioners are mostly elderly couples, hence my roommate and myself were
the youngest in attendance for mass.
We found an English speaking parish, Our Lady of Mercy, and therefore last Sunday we ventured off on a 45 minute metro ride to check it out. I felt right at home! The parish consists of many families and everyone was very warm and inviting. It was nice to hear mass spoken in my native language, since at Maria Inmaculada there are no missals to follow along with so I had a difficult time understanding the readings and responses. At Our Lady of Mercy there are missals, hymnals and even the new English translation cheat cards. Although, apparently the Spaniards are more adapt to change than us Americans since they do not feel the need to exercise screaming "And with your Spirit!" like "know-it-all" little schoolgirls in order to drown out those who forget.
Anyway, I felt really comfortable there and hence that is where I went for mass this morning. Online it states masses on Sundays and Holy Days of Obligation are at 11:00 a.m. Well apparently ourladyofmercy.info/ lied because when an elderly gentleman and I walked in at 10:50 a.m. the Liturgy of the Word had just concluded and the celebrant had just begun to hand out the ashes. I crashed an elementary school mass! However, that is okay because at freshman year orientation at Merrimack College we had Dave Binder, a comedian/musician, come prepare us for these moments of awkwardness. I am sure everyone is familiar with "that freshman". You know it is the beginning of fall semester when a freshman: face plants in the cafeteria, gets locked out of their dorm, falls up the stairs in the campus center, has to be walked to his/her dorm by the campus cop, is in the shower when the fire alarm goes off (yup, that kid was me freshman year...), etc. Mr. Binder advises us to repeat the phrase "it's okay, I'm a freshman" if one, or all of the above ever happens to you. Well I am going to take the advice of Mr. Binder, with slight twist, "it's okay I'm a foreign exchange student".
The children looked absolutely adorable in their Catholic school uniforms, it reminds me of the days when I use to sport the blue polyester skirt and blazer myself. Also, bonus, I actually understood everything the priest said in Spanish because he was speaking slowly to the children (and without a missalette too might I add). Sitting in the pews reminded me of the children I tutor back home at the Boys and Girls Club in Lawrence every Monday. I always felt comfortable speaking Spanish at the Boys and Girls Club, for the children did
not judge me. They were appreciative of
the fact that I was trying to learn their language. All the children who speak predominantly
Spanish at home usually isolate themselves in a specific corner of the Club’s
homework room. I will never forget their
surprised reaction one Monday afternoon when I walked over to their table as
they were joking around with each other.
I asked a second grade boy, “¿Me prestas tu lápiz?” Since the
students I tutored were in grades one through six, they were so excited and
enthralled that they immediately started talking to me all at once.
Now that I have been volunteering
at the Club for two years, there are certain boys and girls who always sit at
my table for homework help. They know me
by name now, and enjoy helping me decipher what they are saying in
Spanish. In their words, they find it
“cool” to be able to help their tutor learn something, and together with
practice and their patience, I have improved.
The roles have been reversed; the children are my
tutors and I their student. I will have
to keep that in mind as I continue to study abroad here in Spain, but at the
end of the day, "it's okay I'm a foreign exchange student".