G. Pastoral visit [summary]

We serve the faithful who live far from our parish centers through a system of long trips along the rivers, visiting them in the places where they live. We call these long journeys “desobrigas”, from the Portuguese ‘desobrigar-se’, which would correspond to the Spanish “desobligar” or “disoblige”

The missionary passes once a year and the people take advantage of the opportunity to baptize, confirm, marry, confess, receive Communion, and with that they have no obligation with God until the missionary’s next visit.

The day of relief is, properly speaking, the one in which the missionary dedicates himself to the administration of the Sacraments. But he always arrives at the place the afternoon before, taking advantage of that afternoon and night for catechesis.

Here appears the first failure of our work system; it is a fault that does not depend on us or on the people, but on the conditions in which they live, generally very scattered, some houses and families very separated from others. Let me explain.

The missionary chooses as a place of shelter that can hold a greater number of people. People from various places will come to this place, some at several hours and even days away by canoe.

We could and would like to stay several days in each place, for a deeper catechesis and evangelization that is the most important part of our apostolate. But it is the people, it is the people who cannot.

Some, I repeat, come from afar, and between coming and going back and the days they stay with us, it would add too much time away from their homes, away from their jobs. This is not allowed by the meager economy of the majority. On the other hand, there is the boss, whose hungry coffers do not allow their workers a few days without work.

In the first Report that I presented to Rome on the state of the Mission, I mentioned this anguish and lamented that our work here was often reduced to rapid sacramentalization and almost no evangelization.

The answer was: “Be careful, Bishop, that sacramentalization also has its value and as long as the circumstances of your Territory do not allow you to do anything else…” Sadly, here we are and we continue with that same system.

Of course, we have not fallen asleep in our quest to solve that problem. We have tried through our Base Communities, as I have already indicated in another section.

This next journey will take me to visit 16 places where as many Communities function. I will spend two days to get to the place where the work will begin. Every “desobriga” is announced by Radio Riomar, a Manaus station that all our people from the interior listen to daily, so that they find out the exact date on which the missionary will arrive in each place.

July 31, 1979: preparations

The trip should be tomorrow at noon, but the atmosphere of homelessness is noticeable early today. I celebrate Mass in the chapel of the Marist Brothers. The person in charge asks the Community for a special prayer for the success of the journey.

I dedicated the rest of the day to preparing things for the trip: what was necessary for the celebration of Mass and administration of the Sacraments; the suitcase for personal use; some food for the days that we will travel directly, stopping only to sleep: cans, Nescafé, powdered milk, sardines, sausages and something else that Odorico, the engineer, will prepare on a small gas stove that we have on board.

Since I have not been able to learn to sleep in the hammock, I have prepared a bed on the boat where I think I will rest better, based on experience I have from other trips. The coolness of the night on the river, the boat rocking to the sway of the waters, helps one sleep well and inviting one to plagiarize the opera Marina: blessed is he whose house is afloat / and whose cabin is rocked by the sea, / smelling tar, smelling tar. / To the lullaby of the water it sways, it sways.

Does the mosquito net go? It goes. Mosquitoes do not respect dignities and we are going to have tons of them. Are the lifeboats going? They go. “Heart of Jesus, may they not be necessary!” Good. It seems that everything that I have to prepare is ready. The boat and its needs will be taken care of by Odorico who, truth be told, is very careful and responsible.

August 1: departure to the first meeting point

Lunch time arrives and, finishes, from the table to the boat, after the goodbyes and mutual wishes of happiness. It is 12:30 and the first two failures or setbacks have already appeared.

First: we generally do the catechism with the help of slides on topics chosen and prepared in advance. They are prepared and framed; shipped are the projector and gasoline for the light generator; the one that has not arrived is said generator. For three days it has been with the “technician” for a general cleaning and tuning, which, unfortunately, does not happen. So let’s unload filmstrips, gasoline, a projector and prepare our throats for the nightly talks that will have to fill the void of the projection and that will have to be loud (for now that’s not a problem) to drown out the screams of the children, that are never missing.

Second: two days ago, a man who found out about our trip had asked me the favor of taking him precisely to the place where the work will begin. I accepted it with great pleasure and somewhat with great interest: since only the machinist and I are going, I would have to spend many hours at the helm of the boat, a task that I do not dislike, but it makes me nervous, almost scared.

I have not learned to know the river and its dangers; I do not know, nor do I notice, in which places it is shallow, so as not to enter and run aground on a sandbank; I can’t guess where there is a stone or a log on the surface of the water, so as not to bump into them, etc. Should this good man who surely knows the river like the back of his hand come, it would save me both work and nerves.

Unfortunately, the man did not appear and at 12:30 o’clock we began our trip, after commending ourselves to God before the crucifix, which today I have placed right in front of the helm, so that He guides us and frees us from danger.

And there we go, Odorico, the boat and I, sailing against the current, in our Purús, immense, majestic, sinuous and calm. Odorico is my driver. Dark, very dark, but not because of race and yes because of the thousand Amazonian suns that burned his skin and his life in the rivers of the region, aboard one or another vessel; 62 years old, married, father and grandfather, he has been working with us for several years now.

He loves us and respects us. He loves and takes care of the engine of our boat, which is not a guarantee on trips. If there is no urgency to get to the end of the trip, don’t ask him to speed up a little more. He will find reasons not to. He will keep, he will say, the strength for the moment of need. When, on the contrary, we need to speed up, he will give himself speed without asking.

There are always at least two people on the boat: the helmsman and the engineer. His job is to attend to the engine and he generally always travels very close to it. In the engine compartment there is always a bell with a rope that goes to the helmsman. By means of various touches through the rope and bell, the helmsman asks the driver for the various gears or changes that he makes: start up, stop, half force, full force, forward gear, reverse gear.

Since there are only the two of us going, Odorico will be the engineer and I the helmsman. Let it be clear from now on that Odorico will help me in my trade; our simple and new engine does not require the permanent presence of the driver.

Our little boat is called Saint Judas Thaddeus. A few years ago, in Caracas, a Venezuelan gave me a good handout to buy a fast boat. We bought the boat and, at the benefactor’s request, we named it after Saint Judas because, he told me, the gift was in gratitude to the saint for having freed him from the habit of drinking.

The boat was very good; powered by a 40HP Johnson engine, it flew, but it used up 20 liters of gasoline per hour and at the price that gasoline reached here, it was impossible for us to maintain it for ourselves. We sold it and with the money from the sale we helped build this little boat that we gave the same name to.

It is 30 x 2.20 meters; It is powered by a 9HP Japanese center motor and consumes diesel. It’s going very well, about 10 km/h against the current and almost double in favor of it. We built three at the same time for the different parishes and the missionaries are very happy with them. They are very cheap.

And there we go, swallowing curves in this river that has hundreds of them, at the dizzying speed of ten per hour. The trips through the Purús, entertaining the first times, are ultimately tedious and monotonous, due to the repetition of the same things.

Here it is a canoe that goes up or down, moved sometimes by motor, other times, more often, by rowing. Beyond is a fisherman who with enviable mastery throws his net into the river, which sometimes returns with and other times without the desired and necessary fish.

At all times, pods of dolphins, playful, jump behind, in front, to the sides of the boat. On the shore a whirlpool of water and small fleeing fish; some of those dolphins or another predator, in the fight for life, are chasing them to feed themselves; and on either side the jungle, this Amazonian jungle, impenetrable, mysterious, tangled, imposing, majestic, green with a thousand green hues.

One after another, alternating on the sides of the river, the beaches; of pure sand next to the water, of earth and sand, next to the jungle. In this land-sand most of the rudimentary agriculture of the natives is developed.

Here and there, on either side of the river, some on the beach, others in the ravine, the little houses, some poor, others miserable, always made of wood, sometimes of sawn boards, many with palm fronds for roofs, some with aluminum sheets; very many, too many, consisting of four sticks stuck in the ground, the said palm tree roof and nothing else. In some you can see the hammocks hanging, and one cannot help but wonder what its inhabitants will do on a night of rain and wind so common here. Certainly, pick up everything, wait for the rain to pass and hang them up again to continue sleeping.

This is how many children of God live and die, people, our brothers who spend their lives extracting rubber for the big industries, for the brand new vehicles of a lucky few. In the late 20th century, that sounds like a tremendous injustice.

At the passing of any canoe, the children —and the older ones too if they are at home— look out to see it go by. If you wave goodbye and they recognize you, they respond in the same way and with joy. One or several single women hardly respond to the greeting if they do not recognize the boat.

Sometimes they signal with their hands, with a piece of cloth, with something, for you to come closer. If they know that it is the missionary who is passing by, they certainly need him to care for someone who is sick, physically with some medicine or spiritually with the help of religion. If they haven’t met him, they think he’s one of the many merchants who walk along the river and call him to buy something they need. Now and here, a woman in the river takes a bath and bathes her little son, in front of her house.

Then the parrots fill the space with the merriment of their voices; later, it will be the monkeys that, curious, look out over the river and, when we approach it, they run away quickly, jumping from branch to branch, in the most authentic display of acrobatics, until they get lost in the thicket.

At the end of the beach that we are reaching, a tall stick, with a white cloth on top, indicates that it is a particular beach and suitable for the turtle to deposit its eggs. Right there, seagulls by the thousands.

The turtle eggs are there less than 50 meters from the shore and 50 centimeters deep in the sand on the beach. It must be time to break eggs. The newborn, due to an admirable sense of orientation, the second after being born, begins his “race” towards the river. In the short journey the seagulls will devour them by the hundreds. It must be for this reason that nature, wise, makes turtles deposit up to 200 eggs at a time and it must be for this reason that, although many hatchlings die, many are also saved.

Two columns of smoke rise to the sky from two small houses that appear at the turn of the river. Certainly, the rubber tappers are dedicated to the task of smoking the rubber.

At this moment we pass in front of a house whose owners have a daughter, Marizete, as an Auugustinian Recollect Missionary. One of the few vocations that have appeared in recent years.

Without more things worth telling, when it is six in the afternoon, the scheduled time, we are coming to the end of today’s day; a place called Buraco (Hole), of about 10 houses inhabited by the Gonçalves Brito family. Grandparents, children, grandchildren, they all live around here. The house where we will arrive today must be somewhat sad; the owner, Petinha, is quite ill in Manaus.

Before going up to greet the family I have prepared my bed and mosquito net. It is the time when mosquitoes usually appear and if I leave it for later, when I put up the mosquito net, many can stay inside and have a great feast at my expense.

So much care in Labrea to prepare things and here I notice the first forgetfulness: I have not brought a pillow. Well, if the family has, there is no problem; they will lend me one until I return. I go up to greet them, they ask me if we have had dinner and when I say no, they invite us to share the family dinner with them. Odorico has gotten rid of preparing the first dinner and maybe I’ll get rid of the first upset stomach because of the cans…

After dinner we talked for a while with the neighbors who have come to greet me; I ask them for the pillow, they give it to me and to sleep we go. We have said goodbye until our return. Tomorrow we want to leave early and will not go up to have breakfast or to say goodbye.

 

August 2: the trip continues

It is just getting light and we restart the trip, after a good night’s sleep. I am at the helm, while Odorico prepares a breakfast based on Nescafé and powdered milk that, judging by the aroma, sounds tasty.

Minutes go by and the sun appears with signs of wanting to heat up strongly, like yesterday and every day. The landscape, the river, the canoes, the fish, the beaches, the houses, are all the same as they were yesterday and as they will be tomorrow and every day.

From the shore a man calls us. As the place where the river is shallow and the boat cannot get close, he comes to us in his canoe. He wants medicine for a little daughter who is very sick. We didn’t bring anything and I let him know with sorrow and remorse. He says goodbye sad and disappointed.

Why regrets? In Lábrea we have enough medicines. Not long ago, an institution in the United States sent us $5,000 to buy medicines. Despite having distributed many, there are still some. It happens that of the thousand things I don’t understand anything about, one is medicine. It scares me to prescribe an aspirin thinking that it could do harm to the patient, instead of benefit. That’s why I didn’t bring any.

Odorico has replaced me at the helm for a long time, time that I have taken advantage of to pray and read something, but once again I am the driver, while the engineer is the cook and prepares lunch. A rice soup and canned meat will solve the problem. Either the appetite is good or Odorico’s culinary knowledge has progressed; the truth is that I eat very willingly.

It’s hot enough that it doesn’t need to be called heatwave; By saying that he is from the Amazon, everything is said. The boat is very closed and therefore very hot. The little speed does not help mitigate the heat. Sometimes we have to navigate through the river and the greater force of the current delays our navigation. The river is very dry and the sandy beaches are advancing in the water, too dangerous. It’s five in the afternoon. From a little house they signal us to come closer; surely they want medicines, again. I am not mistaken. They request them and again my refusal and my remorse.

We take the opportunity to find out from them how much is left to reach the place that will be the beginning of the disengagement; They tell us and we calculate that tomorrow we will arrive at a very good time; that’s why we decided not to walk anymore today.

We moved away a bit, to take a good bath and mitigate the heat. Despite being on a beach that invites you to dive, bathing will be at the stern of the boat, with a can and without jumping into the water. The Purús is rich in piranhas, rays and other dangerous fish and it would not be good that one gives us a scare or sticks its needle into us.

To all this, it is already getting dark. The ship does not have electricity; by the light of two candles, Odorico prepares a latte and some hard and salty biscuits. After taking it, we go to sleep. I have not brought a radio set; the break with the “civilized” world will be total.

Lulled by the songs or guttural cries of the guaribas, a species of monkeys, by the croaking of toads and frogs and the rhythmic beating of passing canoeists’ oars in the water, I sleep like angels themselves. How do angels sleep?

August 3: arrival in San Carlos

I notice Odorico moving in his hammock, hanging near my bed, and I greet:

• — Odorico, good morning.
• — Good morning, bishop.
• —What time is it??
• — It is five-thirty.

We get up, we have another coffee with milk that he has prepared. While we do that, the day clears up enough to navigate and we start the march again. Without any setbacks, without anything special to report, we arrive at San Carlos at noon, the place where we will begin the journey.

San Carlos is a well-known place, but I have found it somewhat changed. On those occasions, Doña Carminha was the owner, and a year ago she sold her property and went to live in Lábrea. The new owner has built a new, large and quite good house.

A lot of people receive us. In front, the teacher with her students in training, uniformed and clean. They dedicate a welcome song to me that I thank with a few words. There were no speeches and therefore it was not possible to repeat the case of that nervous teacher who, in charge of greeting the bishop, spoke like this:

• — Your Excellency, have you arrived tired, bishop?

After the greetings, I tell the landlady that we haven’t had lunch and I remind her of the promise she made to me the last time I was here. She lived in a nearby place and she tells me that today, right away, at lunchtime, the promise will be fulfilled. We sit at the table and as a main dish they serve me monkey meat. The promise was indeed fulfilled. I had asked her one time, and she promised on that occasion, to feed me monkey.

By then I had not yet eaten monkey; later and in another place I had occasion to do so. By the way, they even served me the pellets with which they killed it. Today is the second time that I eat monkey meat, which is highly appreciated here and is actually very good.

The owners of the place are more or less solvent, the house has electricity and a fridge; I have taken the opportunity to drink fresh water and mitigate the heat a bit.

Here works one of our Communities. The leader has held, at night, one of her meetings, so that the bishop can see it. I liked it and I have made it clear to them in the talk in which I have encouraged them to continue meeting always and above all to live the message that God, through his Word, sends them in each meeting.

The meeting ended around 10 pm, but since all is well, it is still light and the bishop’s visit is not an everyday thing, the conversation goes on longer. When sleep had already taken over many children and began to do so with the older ones, we said good night to everyone and went to our ship to sleep, not without telling everyone that tomorrow, at seven in the morning, I would be ready to serve everyone.

August 4: San Carlos

Indeed, around seven o’clock, after a quiet night, I go up to the house, say good morning to those who are already there, have a cup of coffee that the owner offers me and wait for the people to arrive. They start to show up right away.

Some, those who live on the same side of the river and nearby, on foot; others, those from the other shore or from afar, in canoes. They come in their Sunday best; it’s a free day, it’s a party. The young women, dressed up, with makeup, well groomed. Perhaps the boyfriend they haven’t seen for days and with whom they have made an appointment for today in this place will appear.

Everyone, without exception, comes to say hello and ask for a blessing. Some kiss the hand; not the ring, because I don’t wear it. Before starting the serious work, the owner tells me that breakfast (coffee with milk, butter and cookies) is ready. I take it and work with those who are already there.

The job consists of filling out the forms for the Sacraments to be administered, and completing the formalities that each Sacrament requires. To do this, you have to arm yourself with a lot of patience. Generally it is the father who approaches to give the data and almost never knows them with certainty and accuracy. You have to wait for him to go looking for his wife, who doesn’t always remember them.

I have already found couples who do not know each other’s name; girlfriends who don’t know their boyfriends’ names and, wow, people who don’t know their names. Since childhood, they began to be called by a nickname and never heard the real one. Let’s not say anything about names and surnames of godparents of Baptism and Confirmation or witnesses of Marriage. You have to wait for the interested parties to arrive and see what you can get.

I like the job very much and I take advantage of it for advice here, a gentle rebuke there. Many times people who were not married or were married only civilly, thanks to the “timely” and “untimely” or the “strength” and “gentleness” of Saint Paul, they decide to fix their marital situation or other situations.

In the first days or when the number of people present announces that the data collection work is not going to be much, it is easily endured; but when the fatigue increases with the passing of the days or the number promises that the work will go far, “holy Job, help me!”

This part of the debriefing is over. There will be seven Baptisms and 18 Confirmations. There is no Marriage. Smooth work compared to other occasions. Reasons? The last journey was eight months ago nothing more. This on the one hand and, on the other, the reality that our rural interior is becoming depopulated. Our inlanders, tired of that subhuman life and attracted by the mirage of the cities, leave their places, go to Lábrea or Manaus, where they don’t always find what they are looking for.

Following: the Mass, then the Baptisms and finally the Confirmations. Delivering the certificates of the Sacraments, blessing the images, candles, pictures and water that they have brought for that, the desolation has ended in San Carlos in this year of 1979.

It was 11 in the morning when the service ended. The ceremony is prolonged, because we must take advantage of the Gospel of the Mass, the rites of the various Sacraments, to evangelize a little to the people who have few opportunities to hear the Word of God. We cannot lose the only occasion we have to transmit something; that’s why the ceremony lasts a long time.

It is, then, 11 in the morning. I take advantage of the remaining time to talk to the rubber tappers about their problems, to advise what I find most convenient. I attend to anyone who comes to tell me about their troubles: the wife who complains about her husband, the parents who do not understand each other with their children, the neighbor who is fighting with the other neighbor, etc. I tell everyone something that can help them in their difficulties.

Lunchtime comes to all of this, which in this part of the Purús is usually not only good, but excellent, abundant and shared by many of those who attend the meeting. We are already at tablecloths and given the amount of food that can be seen and the quality that can be guessed, I am thinking that it will be somewhat difficult to fulfill the promise that I made to myself in Lábrea to return with at least five kilos less.

One of the dishes that is already seen on the table and that will not be missing for a single day during the event is the turtle. They prepare three, four and even more different dishes with a single turtle. It is classic of the region. When a high-ranking character or the Father arrives, the “turtle” feast cannot be missing.

I serve myself with measure. I have tried to deceive them by telling them that the doctor has ordered me to lose weight, which they reluctantly accept, since they like the main diner to appreciate their food, eating a lot and to their hearts’ content.

A few minutes of conversation after lunch and ready to restart our trip, heading to the second place, which is a bit distant, but which we will arrive at in good time if there are no problems. Farewells, thanks for the treatment received, wishes of happiness to all and… we set sail.

We are accompanied by a man who goes to the same place as us. He has a motorized canoe, but by coming with us, he will save gasoline, which here, far from the suppliers, is very expensive. We tied his canoe to our boat and set off. From the house, people wave their hands with handkerchiefs as a sign of farewell. We answer them in the same way.

The passenger, an acquaintance of ours and a connoisseur of the river, is at the helm. Even so, as soon as he leaves, he climbs onto a sandbar. I already said it before: the river is very low. Possibly I myself have distracted him with my conversation, or perhaps he thinks that he is riding in his little canoe; the truth is that there we are, stranded. He jumps into the water, a strong tug and again afloat, sailing.

A little further on, in a sharp turn of the rudder to avoid another point of the beach, the chain breaks. There is no delay in the repair and without further setbacks we arrive at our destination today, Novo Brazil, where at night the same program as in San Carlos will be repeated.

Novo Brazil is a place known to me from previous years, as the administrator is known, who has a family, the legitimate one, in Lábrea, and another one in this place that he manages.

I notice that he is less attentive than on previous occasions and I know the reason very well. Fray Cenobio Sierra, last year, spoke very hard here about the injustices of certain owners and administrators with their poor workers. Perhaps he felt alluded to; perhaps he is aware that on several occasions I have spoken with his employer who lives in Labrea, making complaints against him or, better yet, against the way he treats his employees.

In this place, until recently, a Community functioned that is now dead. Until recently, the teacher from San Carlos was a teacher and leader here in Novo Brazil. Due to disagreements with the Administrator, she left and, with her departure, the Community died.

The topic of my evening talk has been about the Community and the need to start meeting again, to try to get someone among them to want to take over the management, for that person to look for others to help by sharing the work and preventing the Community from dying. if the only leader is absent.

They have promised me that the Community will function again and almost right there the person, an elderly man, who will take care of it was appointed. When talking about the Community and its purposes, I have tried to make them see that it is not only to pray, but also to deal with their problems of daily life and to see the way to solve them together. I have told you about cases of Communities that have solved many of their problems in this way and have been encouraged.

The Administrator was also present. What would he think? We don’t care what he may think, except in the sense of conversion and better treatment of workers.

August 5th: Novo Brazil

After another quiet night, around seven in the morning I began the work of serving the people; but before, one thing caught my attention. I remember that on previous occasions, as soon as we opened the boat door in the morning, the administrator himself would come down with a thermos and a cup to offer us the first coffee of the day. I confess that this time we expected the same. For sure, he has something against us.

The work has been reduced to preparing and carrying out a salty marriage, twelve Baptisms and eleven Confirmations. Certainly, our Purús is becoming depopulated. This place was previously used for many more ceremonies.

I just wrote salty marriage. Here and in popular language, marriages are divided into weddings with a veil and garland and salty marriages. In the former, the bride presumably arrives a young lady at the wedding; in the second, the salty, the drone and the bee have already made their nuptial flight, which in this case is prenuptial. It is quite common in the region for the boy to steal the girl, or what comes to the same thing, for the girl to allow herself to be robbed by the boy.

Many times the theft is committed with the firm and true intention of getting married the first opportunity the missionary arrives. These marriages generally last, have consistency, because there were clear intentions to get married.

So why not wait? I don’t have the exact answer. It occurs to me that it is not always easy to wait a year, or perhaps more, until the priest arrives. On many occasions they even talk to their respective parents beforehand and go to live together.

Salty bride and groom cannot throw wedding parties and that is, sometimes, another reason for those marriages: poor people who cannot organize and pay for a party, or those more practical who simply do not want to spend, solve the problem by running away for a few days. before the arrival of the missionary. Sometimes the groom does not even live with the bride, he will take her to her house, and he will go to another place or give her to a relative until the missionary arrives.

The salty bride, for obvious reason, cannot wear a white veil and dress and, of course, neither a crown or garland, not even those that were “stolen” but did not live with the groom: she fled, allowed herself to be robbed, has to bear her sanbenito .

More problematic are those escapes and unions that are the result of a party, a drunkenness, a madness of young people and that the bride’s parents want to resolve by forcing the groom to marry. These are the marriages that don’t usually last long. That is why we have decided not to marry anyone in these circumstances until at least one year of cohabitation or the event occurred. If after that period pf courting they insist on getting married, we marry them off.

After the Mass, marriage, baptisms and confirmations, lunch follows and then the march to the next place, which we quickly reach, as it is very close, and without setbacks.

This place is new to me and it’s called Praia de Nova Vista. Many people receive us with the teacher and her students in front of her. Since before we arrived we have already seen children running towards the school to form the reception group.

Between the place where we have moored and the school there is a fairly long beach. It is three in the afternoon, the sun burns mercilessly and I have seen children crying because the sand burned the skin of their bare feet.

The teacher is known, but from other places. I remember marrying her off six or eight years ago. She is one of those who fled the day before the missionary arrived. Her father didn’t like the boyfriend and they decided to flee to the community before hers in disarray and get married. The day after the wedding she traveled on our boat to her house to ask for her father’s blessing and forgiveness; her mother she did not have. She received both in my presence. Today she has a lot of children and she lives happily with her husband.

A couple of years ago this teacher and her family had a very sad thing happen to them. While they were all sleeping one stormy night, a large tree fell on their house. Very curious or miraculous, of the dogs, cats, pigs and chickens there was no living animal; the house fell to the ground; one of her children suffered a broken limb and she suffered a severe blow to the head; Nothing happened to the others.

At night we had the usual meeting and catechism talk, with exhortation for the proper functioning of the Community that exists here, and it is going well. Then to sleep and wait to see what tomorrow brings us.

August 6: Praia de Nova Vista

Praia de Nova Vista has given two marriages, eight baptisms and twenty confirmations. Among sacramentalized people, parents, godparents and the assisting people were a good group of people. Seeing the house so old and weak, despite the reinforcements that have been put on it for the occasion, I propose to celebrate the religious service in the open air.

They accepted and under a mango that continually spilled the rain of its flowers on the altar and attendees we celebrated the religious ceremonies. For whatever reason, the children have begun to cry; I ask the mothers to do something to calm them down and toys, bottles and breasts appear there, some of them so flaccid that they are crying out for poverty, anemia, hunger and other needs.

Here, and for the first time in my priestly life, I have accepted to be a godfather. At the last minute and when the Confirmation ceremony had already begun, the teacher approached me saying that she wanted to confirm her son, that the godfather had been notified, but had not arrived, that she wanted me to act as godfather.

She did not deceive me: I immediately noticed her mischief, but I still accepted. It is very common to ask the priest to be a godfather, many times they had asked me and until today I had always refused.

The service and the carelessness have ended in this place. We had lunch and, accompanied by many people, we boarded our boat that, on this hot afternoon, will take us to the next place.

The place is called Bom Jesus. it is known from other places and I find it somewhat changed. Now it has a new and good school and a small chapel dedicated to the Immaculate Conception, whose statue I gave them myself.

By the way, I promised to come to the blessing of the chapel, which, I don’t remember why now, I couldn’t do; I sent another priest and he could not arrive on time due to damage to the boat. It was a great setback for the people who had gathered in large numbers in the place for the party and for the religious service, taking advantage of the presence of the priest.

Here, at night, the work of every day; There is a Community working very well and I limit myself to encouraging them to always continue like this.

August 7. Bom Jesus.

When it was time to go down to the boat, a young man asked me if I had medicine for toothache. I tell him no, but that a mouthful of brandy in the one that hurts can relieve the pain for a while.

Even before starting the march again, he looks for me to thank me, because with my formula the pain has disappeared. I advise him that when it hurts, but not to swallow, because he can get drunk.

We are already sailing towards the next place called Liberdade, unknown to me, as I have never journeyed there. We arrived without any setbacks of any kind. On the trip, what happened in other years from the beginning begins to happen and which, strangely on my part, was not happening: quite a few boats join us.

They are the merchants of the river, who know that many people gather in the shadow of the missionary among whom they can make their sales. Some are old acquaintances and will accompany us until the end of the journey.

August 8. Hiutanahán.

The rain continues to fall amid brilliant lightning and strong thunder that the jungle multiplies into a thousand echoes and something similar to thunder is heard, but it should not be, because the corresponding lightning has not preceded it.

I point out the fact and they tell me that it was not thunder. With the prevailing strong wind, one or more old and large trees have fallen to the ground, dragging hundreds of other trees along with their fall, causing the noise that I confused with thunder.

[…]

August 9. Cacao

Odorico puts the boat underway and heads towards Cacao, which is the name of the next place, unknown to me, although I know the administrator, Odilio Ferreira, from other years and places. He of two wives (widowed and remarried) has 32 children. One day, in Lábrea, where he now lives, he went to the College of the Augustinian Recollect Missionaries to enroll 11 children at one time.

[…]

There is a school, but I think that what I am seeing cannot be given the name of such. It doesn’t have tables, it doesn’t have benches; no blackboard, no maps. I don’t know how this man can teach anyone anything. I ask for the reason for such abandonment, to claim when I return to Lábrea and they tell me that the material for the new one is ready to start its construction.

[…]

August 10. Cacao

I would say, quite simply, that we are living in a tragedy in the field of health. Throughout the Mission there is a hospital and three health posts. The government, for reasons more political and electoral than humanitarian, has placed mini-health posts along the rivers of the region.

They are almost always without medicine. Father Piérola found the refrigerator from one of these mini-stalls on one of the tributaries of the Purús still, many months after it was received, still packed in its box as if it had just arrived from Manaus; nobody knew how to light it, it ran on oil, and they hadn’t been taught how to do it.

So these poor people of ours, when they get sick, have no choice but to wait for a miracle or find medicine on a ship that happens to pass by. We are more than 300 kilometers from Lábrea. Tell me what to do in a case of serious illness or accident: wait for death or a miracle.

[…]

August 11. Cachoeira

We are in the middle of summer; The river that in the winter rose twelve and more meters, leaping over the ravines that box it in and flooding vast expanses of jungle, is now at its lowest level.

To the houses, when they are built on the side of the ravine, you have to go up a series of steps carved into the earth that, if it is dry as now, pass; but if it’s wet it becomes like soap, very difficult to go up and very dangerous to go down. A few days ago I rolled down one of those ravines and how close it was to find my humanity in the river.

[…]

This place is notable for the number of mosquitoes. Whenever I have complained somewhere, people have told me: get ready for when you get to Cachoeira. Indeed, around six in the evening, the matter becomes simply unbearable. They make you want to drop everything and lock yourself in the boat, under the mosquito net, but if they can put up with every day, why can’t I put up with one?

For days I have been noticing an unforgivable forgetfulness; long-sleeved shirts that prevent many bites. Mosten friar, you wanted it, you have it, hold on to it.

In case I have to climb ravines with rain and mud, I have brought high rubber boots, almost to the knee. They will solve the problem in the ankles, which is where they bother the most, so starting tomorrow, I’ll put them on. I’m hot and people laugh. Thus, between slaps he goes and slaps comes, scaring away carapanás (mosquitoes), the meeting and the work of the night pass and it is time to go to sleep. Since I have a mosquito net on my bed, I hope to spend a quiet night.

[…]

The night has been so calm that I have not even noticed a few mosquitoes that, in the morning, have appeared inside the mosquito net, swollen to bursting with episcopal blood. God forbid someone is infected with malaria! Nine days from now, the time it takes to manifest, I’ll know.

August 14. Seariha

The owner and administrator has dedicated himself to trade along the river, given that most of his workers have gone to live in Lábrea or other cities. Possibly this is the last year that the place appears on the journey list: it ran out of people, it is not too far from the previous one or the next one and, although the Community was working, the leader went to Lábrea and, as always happens, the Community died.

[…]

August 15. Luzitânia

In previous years, before my arrival in these lands, this was the intermediate place in the shelter of this part of the Purús and, according to what they tell us, the missionary stayed here two days, one working and the other resting. Undoubtedly, the work was greater then or the journey was longer and the missionary needed that rest.

The owners were then German and are now their descendants; very fine, educated people, somewhat indifferent to religion, but very respectful of the priest and of each other’s beliefs.

[…]

Óscar may be one of the richest owners of the Purús. Among the thousand curiosities that he has in his house, he does not lack his movie machine; in the property there is light a lot of time. As in all places, here they were also waiting for the projections that we used to do on other occasions. Taking advantage of the absence of our projections and the presence of light and machine, at night, after the usual chat, he showed us some children’s films which they and the older ones enjoyed a lot.

August 16. Luzitânia

A group of Indians arrived to baptize, confirm and marry off some of their children. They have put me in a problem of conscience. Before, the Indians were baptized without further ado, without thinking about almost anything, I would say. Now the mentality is different and I think there are no shortage of reasons why it is.

It has been extremely difficult for me to understand myself with the Indians today and, furthermore, where my missionaries work, I certainly know that they have no religious instruction. So I start to think about what will be the best we can and should do.

In any case, and since my “conversion” has not yet been definitive, I have baptized and confirmed them, remembering that of Rome: “As long as I cannot do anything else in its territory… Do not forget that sacramentalization also has its value…”

I am sure that if the CIMI and OPAN missionaries find out about the conditions in which I baptized these Indians, the least they will do is laugh ironically at me and consider me the most unfortunate, if not of mortals, then of bishops.

[…]

August 18. Boa União

[…]

A few years ago the Community was established here and it is not working. They have been telling me for days that it is the owner who does not want to know anything about said Community and its meetings.

As they discuss problems of a material, social, human order, relations between employers and employees, the price of things, the owner fears the consequences which would hinder the functioning of the Community.

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