Three scenes from the weekend

"Ustedes son la luz del mundo: ¿cómo se  puede esconder una ciudad asentada sobre un mote? Nadie enciende una lámpara para taparla con un cajón; la ponen más bien sobre un candelero, y alumbra a todos los que están en la casa. hagan, pues, que brille su luz ante los hombres"."

-Mateo 5, 13-16

Oración al estile taizé

The Catholic faith has a very strong presence in Peru (as per most of Latin America)- whether it be socially, academically, or architecturally. The most prestigious university here is Pontificia Universidad Católica del Perú, and the university I attend is a Jesuit school. It's not common for someone to ask me if I am Catholic too. Afraid of offending anyone, I ambiguously reply that I am "todavia buscando" (still looking [for religion]).

Despite my non-theism,  I stayed after classes on Friday to attend a prayer and meditation hosted by one of the student Jesuit groups. They assembled a beautiful setup of flowing, colorful cloth, candles, and pillows in between the classrooms. The candlelight casted elegant shadows on the wall, while three guitarists strummed hymns on their classical guitars. It was a very peaceful, relaxing environment. It was nice to have a time for spiritual mediation, even if my personal mediation was not religious in nature. In fact, my friends in the group stressed that the event was a time of relaxation, not a time of fundamentalism. I much prefer this moderate and peaceful approach to religion and life. Maybe that's why the word "tranquilo" is commonly used here.

"Yo no quería una vida normal. No me gustaban los horarios de oficina.

Mi espíritu rebelde se reía del dinero, del lujo y el comfort.

Y tuve una revelación, ya se que quiero en esta vida.

Voy a seguir mi vocación será la música mi techo y mi comida.

Porque yo no quiero trabajar, no quiero ir a estudiar,

No me quiero casar. Quiero tocar la guitarra todo el dia."

-"La guitarra" por Los Autenticos Decadentes

El malecón en la noche

Later that night, Mauricio and I sat hunched over guitars and facing the ocean on the malecón, the boardwalk on the Costa Verde. We jammed for hours, our eyes fixed on our fretboards, looking up only occasionally to observe the skater kids, beggars, and lovers that rambled through the park. It was such a peaceful night. A light breeze from the ocean rushed gently by, and the city lights danced on water alongside the reflection of stars. It seemed to be the only place in Lima not polluted by the constant clatter of traffic noise. Instead, we made our own sounds, exchanging songs and melodies that we were once passed down to us. He taught me strange scales and flamenco songs from a gypsy he met on the street, and I shared songs that Scott taught me when he was still alive. I've always admired the ability of music to bring people together from all walks of life.

"Soy las ganas de vivir, las ganas de cruzar.  / Las ganas de conocer lo que hay después del mar...

No tengo todo calculado ni mi vida resuelta / Sólo tengo una sonrisa y espero una de vuelto.

Yo confío en el destino y en la marejada / Yo no creo en la iglesia pero creo en tu mirada.

Tú eres el sol en mi cara cuando me levanta.../ Dame la mano y vamos a darle la vuelta al mundo."

-"La vuelta al mundo" por Calle 13 

Caminata Universitaria

The next day, we all woke up early to attend the Caminata Universitaria, a 10 km walk alongside the coast organized by the university. We meandered in pairs in an abstract line down the malecón, then down the narrow stairs to the beach, and eventually alongside the rocky shore of the ocean. Every 40 minutes we changed partners to discuss the questions that our leaders had given us. We conversed about our childhood dreams, expectations for the semester, and whatever else was on our minds.

Over the course of the day I talked to chipper Diana whose childhood dream was (surprisingly) to destroy the world and create her own utopia, listened to the story of a man who works at the university (whose name I forgot) who, at the last minute, dropped out of seminary school to be with his family, searched for explanations with Jennifer and Brigette for lost love and the human identity, and chatted with Ines about the current presidential elections in Peru. At one point on our journey, we were accompanied by the marching and shouting of about 3,000 military and police members who were running a marathon on the road that runs parallel to the shore. We ended our trek at a church on the edge of the coast. Vibrant flowers grew in every corner of the courtyard, and the view from the top of the cost was astounding and unobstructed. Before calling it quits, we took the time to reflect on the day, the environment, and our experiences. I really admire how philisophical the Jesuit groups are here and how they are constantly reflecting and evaluating their work. It is, in a sense, what I am trying to do with this blog.