Steeeeeeeeeeerike

I have been working on my computer for a couple of hours. I am drafting yet another workshop, this time for teachers. The day is heating up and I’m in need of some refreshing island breeze. I walk into the spare bedroom and pull back the curtain. I tie the curtain into a knot and open the window. The fresh air flows into the room and it instantly cools me down. As I gaze out the window, I look twice. There are people playing American football in the church parking lot just down the street from me. That, in itself is odd, but the people playing football look like me. They are white. That is even more odd. There are a lot of them too. Enough work; I need to solve this mystery. Why are they here?

I walk down the stairs and onto the street. It takes less than two minutes. I am met with the smiles of Betty and Don, a couple around my age. They have brought several young teenage girls here to teach a two week Catholic Bible Study for children in the village. Alright, this makes sense. As we speak a man with shorts and a t-shirt stops and I am introduced to Father Ed from the Philippines. This is his parish.

I tell him that I’m working on business development in the village to improve living conditions. He tells me that people must believe in miracles in order to receive them. He asks how long I’ve been here and I explain it’s been about a year. Father Ed says, “A year! Well, Peace Corps Volunteers always meet me right away so I know them. I tell them what we need here”.

Alright, I guess I’ve just made a mistake. About eighty percent of islanders are Catholic. There is no separation between church and state. Business meetings are started with prayer. Religion is discussed in public schools. Prayer and spirituality are embedded into the everyday life of the people. In short, the church has a lot of influence; this is his village, his flock and I’ve intruded on his space. Strike one.

Seemingly sympathetic, Betty interjects, “We were here a few years ago and the church was in disrepair. It looks so much better now”. I say, “Yes, I heard it was remodeled as part of Cricket World Cup”. Strike two. Father Ed is furious! Although many people I’ve spoken to say that is the case, Father Ed sets the record straight. The church was remodeled because it was its Diamond Jubilee anniversary. He says, “I hear that and they are taking credit. Did they get money? I never saw any money”. I realize I can’t win this conversation, but I attempt to explain that I only arrived a year ago and I have no idea about any money.

At the end of this discussion, I decided it was time for me to quickly remove myself from this uncomfortable corner I had painted myself into. There was no need to find another discussion topic because I understand the game well enough to know that the third strike would put me out of the game. Maybe I’ll run into Father Ed again on a better day.