Surviving Mexico

May 30, 2013 · 7:11 pm

La Novena and el Luctuoso

Then began the novena, 9 days of prayers for the release of my mother-in-law’s soul from purgatory. This was held where her body had been viewed, with the leftover candles from the funeral. A candle must be lit at all times and no one may sweep, since this would be rushing her soul out of the house. (See Mass and Burial)

Each child took a day to sponsor the novena, providing refreshments for those that came to pray. I thought my night of hosting went well. I had to be signaled that the prayer was over and hurried to the kitchen to serve the flan, jello, and juice that I had bought earlier in the day, my son and husband helping to serve. I hadn’t had time to prepare anything traditional or home-made, but that’s why supermarkets were invented right?

A woman named Socorro did the prayer reading for each evening. It seemed to be her calling, presiding over novenas when asked. She isn’t paid per se, the refreshments each night being given in compensation for her time. (See Parenting Challenge–When someone dies)

Each night, Socorro and her echo, another religious woman, intoned prayers from a little booklet. It’s important that everyone sit in the same seat each night, but I didn’t understand the reason for this, just that’s the way its done. The prayer session lasted about an hour since every few minutes there was a round of choral recitals of Padre Nuestro, (Our Father), and Ave Maria pleading that if my mother-in-law’s soul be found at the gates of purgatory, that she be pardoned as well as any other souls found with her. Apparently, her eternal damnation or salvation would be based on the strength of our prayers during the novena while her soul was wandering around in purgatory.

A glass of water and a white towel were set out the first night. This was in case the soul was in need of refreshment. If the soul visited and drank the water, the towel would be imprinted where it had knelt.

As this was my first novena, I’m not sure how smoothly it goes, but it seemed to me that we had more than our share of issues during the 9 days.

The first night, the little children, who were exempt from the prayer meeting, locked themselves in one of the bedrooms and we had to break the door down to rescue them as they became more and more hysterical on the other side. Not a very auspicious beginning to the novena.

Then another night all the sons came drunk to the novena and interrupted the prayers abruptly and repeatedly in order to use the bathroom. Again, not as it should be.

Then the night D was in charge of the refreshments, not only did she not have enough for everyone and I had to supplement with some flan left over from my hosting, but her husband refused to help her serve, demonstrating what an ass he was to all.

Then L was had a screaming fit because my father-in-law had asked where the money from the presidencia was (nearly 3000 pesos) that she had spent on rent for her apartment and local although it wasn’t her money to spend but meant to defray funeral costs.

Another night, I was called away from the novena by the mother of one of my students who happened to be a judge. She had been given a copy of the lawsuit that Chuchi sent and wanted to speak with me immediately. As she isn’t the type of woman you say no to, I hurried to her house. She explained some of the legal terminology and wanted to know for sure if we had answered the charges as there was only a 10-day period to do so. If the charges were not answered, Chuchi wins by default. I called R and he assured me that they had. I wasn’t satisfied so went to the office of Super Prez and asked him. He gave me a copy of the respuesta (answer to the charges) and I hurried back just in time for the opening prayer.

Then J was to make the traditional corundas for the last night, but B said he wanted enchiladas, and to please him, his sister P made them although it was extra work and angered her own husband and was contrary to tradition. The three sides of the corunda represent the trinity and the eating of it as a sort of holy communion in honor of the deceased.

The final novena was a 2-hour session. Not only were the final day prayers said but the dirt that was in the form of the cross on the floor since the viewing must be lifted. It couldn’t be swept up and had to be scooped by hand in a prescribed manner. First the right side of the cross, then the left side of the cross, then the foot of the cross where the three Marys wept, and then the head of the cross. Flower petals, candle wax, and dirt were all scooped into a yellow shoe box. More prayers were said and the rosary was placed on top.

Each attendee was given a small ceramic crucifix, like a party favor, with the following poem on the back:
Fin de novenario
“Muero pero mi alma no muere los amare y los bendeciré en el cielo como lo hice en la tierra” Agradece Padre e hijos

Loosely translated it read:
End of the Prayer sessions
I die but my soul does not.
I love you and bless you in heaven as I did on earth.
With appreciation: Father and children

The following morning we gathered again at the panteón (cemetery). The sacred dirt in its shoebox, candles, photo, cross, the statue of the Virgin of Guadalupe, some sacred saint prayer cards, rosaries, the glass of water and the white cloth were all stuffed unceremoniously in the windowed front of the crypt.

The altar of El señor de Escapulitas Catholic Church in Moroleón

But that wasn’t the end of it. The next week there was a mass en el Templo del Señor de Escapulitas. The priest was paid to say the names and ask for special blessings for those recently departed, but my mother-in-law’s name was accidentally left off the list. So it was rescheduled for Saturday.

Then there was another mass in another church in the wealthy section of town. I misunderstood where this mass was scheduled and my son and I went to the wrong church and then arrived late for the services.

Then there were masses scheduled every month. My son and I went to the first few, but as the sons would be there either drunk or hung over, which in my opinion was shameful, I refused to go to anymore.

B made a vow that he would not shave until his mother had been gone one year. I’m not sure if this vow was meant to be a bargain made to ensure that his mother’s soul left purgatory for heaven or not, but the result is that for most of the year looked like a ungroomed Mexican dwarf with a beard halfway down his chest. The night of the first-anniversary mass, he arrived completely bald and clean shaven.

So this week there was a mass to mark the one-year anniversary of her death. It’s called el primeto luctuoso (which as far as I can translate means the first anniversary of a person being called to the light). An ad was placed in the paper for the first luctuoso. This year, the masses will only be every 3 months. An ad will be placed in the paper for the second luctuoso. Next year they will only be performed every 6 months. An ad will be placed in the paper for the third luctuoso. After that, there will only be one mass per year until eternity. Each year with its own newspaper ad.

Again, I discovered that the quality of the misa (mass) is dependent on the money you pay. My mother-in-law again was given the basic package service. I can not imagine how much money the church earns through this system since the masses continue for all perpetuity. Death is quite a profitable business after all.

As souvenirs, the few attendees were given escapularios (small sewn leather charms to be worn around the neck) and a poem. This one reads:
Te damos gracias, Señor, por habernos dado la dicha de tener una madre ejemplar y disfrutar de su amor. Tu la llamaste Señor y ella no hizo sino tomar tu mano; al escuchar tu voz. Agradecemos su asistencia, Esposo e Hijos.

Loosely translated it reads: We thank you, Lord, for given us the honor of having an exemplary mother and of enjoying her love. You called her, Lord, and she did not refuse to take your hand when she heard your voice. We thank you for your attendance, Husband, and Children.

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Filed under Death and all its trappings

Tagged as Hail Mary, Mass (liturgy), mass for the dead in Mexico, Mexican Catholicism, Mexican funeral traditions, Novena, Prayer, prayers for the dead in Mexico

May 29, 2013 · 7:04 pm

Mass and Burial Mexican style

Typically, a person dies, his or her body is taken to a family member’s home or the funeral home for the viewing. Mass is the next morning with burial following. As my mother-in-law’s body was not released until late afternoon, and the entire family, my father-in-law and his children, were required to report to the Public Ministry Office the following day at 11 and were there until late afternoon again, they felt that they hadn’t had time to properly mourn, so she was returned to the house for a second night mourning after mass. (See Viewing and Wake)

The altar of El señor de Escapulitas Catholic Church in Moroleón

Mass was scheduled at 9 a.m. in the morning so that the family could be at the 11 a.m. hearing. The funeral car came to pick up the body and we walked from the house to the church, El Señor del Escapulitas for mass. The sons and my father-in-law stood with the casket in front of the altar during mass. The daughters stayed with their families in the first few pews. My son and I knelt when everyone else knelt, stood when everyone else stood and said amen when everyone else did. I can’t say that the mass was in any way personalized from what I understood. Nothing about her life was mentioned, just the solemnized intonations of ritual prayer. My mother-in-law’s co-workers from the Presidencia came along with a good group of teachers from the school I was working at.

I, unfortunately, experienced another death later in the year when my friend, el maestro (teacher) died. The mass said over his body was an entirely different affair. The Padre (priest) spoke about the fullness of his life and quoted beautiful and hopeful passages from the bible. There were music and singing. And when his coffin left the church, the masses that had gathered in the Centro gave el maestro (teacher) a standing ovation. My mother-in-law’s funeral paled in comparison.

So I asked about the differences in the misas (masses) and found out that the church offers levels of services, at different prices. The basic package was what my mother-in-law was given, very little personalization. The deluxe package costs more, of course, but has the spectacular effects of el maestro’s (teacher’s) services.

We walked back to the house behind the funeral car after mass. The plan was that my mother-in-law’s body was to spend one night in town and the second night in La Yacata, however, the town children protested due to the fact that there wasn’t running water or electricity in La Yacata. So her body stayed in town. Although it seemed to me that my mother-in-law wouldn’t have minded the lack of services anymore, the convenience of the mourners kept us in town. This cause general confusion and attendance was scanty at best the second night, most having believed the body to be already interred or to be in La Yacata.

To top it all off, R arrived the morning of the second day to have me sign papers for the lawsuit from Chuchi. So there I am, outside in the blazing sun, reading the 3 page paper (because it just wouldn’t do to sign and not know what you are signing) that stated that 1) Chuchi was not president at the time he made the contract and therefore not legally representing La Yacata 2) the pozo perforation is outside the boundaries of what is legally registered as La Yacata and 3) no water rights were ever purchased that would make a pozo a legal possibility. (See Demanda 1 and Demanda 2).

My husband and I went out and bought 12 rotisserie chickens to feed the family and group of mourners that stayed throughout the day. We also bought more flowers so that everyone would be able to leave a flower when we took the body for burial.

Tradition requires that the body not be left alone or the soul the deceased might be offended but the second evening, through the pure exhaustion of the family members this was allowed to happen unintentionally. There also must not be any cleaning up. The multitude of mourners left their Styrofoam cups and napkins littered about, but we were not to sweep. All the trash had to be picked up by hand until after the novena, since sweeping would be an insult to the soul, a way of saying that it was unwelcome here.

Having very little rest, the family and mourners drank some coffee for energy before the long walk to the panteón (cemetery) the following morning. As it is outside of town limits, but within a stone’s throw of La Yacata, often the funeral home arranges for public transport from mass to the cemetery, but as we had gone from the church back to the house the previous day, we were about half the distance already.

Another small band of mourners joined us for the walk from the house to the cemetery that morning. I didn’t think to bring an umbrella for shade and so ended up with a headache and slight sunburn. Our walk brought us past the courthouse. Not one guard was outside, perhaps warned to stay inside, as the sight of a uniform might enrage the mourners. But from the windows, they could watch us as we passed and take a good long look at what “one of their own” had done. (See On Life and Liberty)

At the cemetery, the casket was placed in an open pavilion and opened for one last viewing while the crypt was prepared. At this point, physically and emotionally drained, her daughter P fainted. She was moved to the shade and rubbing alcohol was applied to her face until she came around.

The children were distraught and took turns caressing and kissing her body. I told my son that we would look, say our goodbyes and he could leave a flower with her body but that he should not touch her skin. I didn’t want his last memory of his grandmother to be of her cold dead flesh, but of the warm embrace she gave him in the hospital when she said “My niño” (her special endearment for him) before slipping into a coma. (See Parenting Challenge–When someone dies)

When the crypt was prepared, the sons carried the casket over the uneven ground, past the plots, to the corner where rows of crypts had been built. The casket was slid into the middle row #19, about at eye level. The cemetery workers bricked up and patched the hole while we looked on, again in the now midday sun. I am surprised we didn’t have more casualties from heat stroke. The wreaths were stacked against the wall and the flower arrangements placed nearby. And that was that. Nothing doing but to go home.

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Filed under Death and all its trappings

Tagged as Buriel in Mexico, Cemetery, crypt buriel in Mexico, Death, Death Care, Death traditions in Mexico, Funeral, funeral traditions in Mexico, Mexican traditions for death

May 28, 2013 · 7:24 pm

Parenting Challenge–Teaching Reasoning

Children should be brought up, too, to perceive that a miracle is not less a miracle because it occurs so constantly and regularly that we call it a law; that sap rises in a tree, that a boy is born with his uncle’s eyes, that an answer that we can perceive comes to our serious prayers; these things are not the less miracles because they happen frequently or invariably, and because we have ceased to wonder about them–Charlotte Mason

Once upon a time, our family lived in a culture where it was not necessary to employ reason in our daily actions because there were laws that dictated our actions. For example, a person would not kill his or her neighbor because there were a set of consequences that would result, not necessarily in a moral conscious twinge for taking a life, but laws that would punish and protect. Then we moved to México and here discovered that laws do not guarantee reasonable behavior. (See On Life and Liberty)

Therefore children should be taught as they become mature enough to understand such teaching that the chief responsibility which rests upon then: as persons is the acceptance or rejection of ideas presented to them. To help them in this choice we should afford them principles of conduct and a wide range of fitting knowledge.–Charlotte Mason

So how can I, as a mother, provide these principles of conduct and a wide variety of fitting knowledge when the culture we live within is not my own? Should I insist on the behavior of my own culture from my child? Should I negate the culture surrounding us? Should I compromise rules of conduct because the cultural norms of both cultures are not mutually exclusive? The answer is: it depends.

One example I mentioned before is that of the culturally permissible practice of lying in México. (See Parenting Challenge–Telling Truths). Lying is on my list of cardinal sins, but is so commonplace here that nothing spoken (or written) can be believed at full face value. So we compromise. Within our family, the rule is that we do not lie to one another, however outside the family circle, it is up to each member’s own reasoning ability whether to lie or not.

Then there is the touchy subject of religion. México is predominantly Catholic. The laws are made by Catholics for Catholics. Anyone else outside that carefully maintained circle must fend for him or herself. This includes nearly universal instruction de la fe (of the faith or more specifically Mexican Catholic faith) that the majority of private schools include as part of their regular curriculum. Public schools have after-hour Catechism now because technically there is a separation of church and state by law, if not by practice. All of my son’s classmates at the public school he attends, also attend Catechism in preparation for their first communions. My son does not. (See Homeschool Variation). If his remaining unbaptized in the Catholic faith makes him like the animals (as his grandmother repeatedly told him) then so be it. He and I are animals.

Conventional religious instruction should not be confused with faith which can include any number of religions. We talk in our family openly about faith and what it can and can not do and how it is different from religion. So how do we navigate these tricky waters? By taking them one issue at a time. (See Parenting Challenge–When someone dies). Each unexpected disaster, each surprising wonder is an opportunity for us to discuss as a family what it means to have faith and what faith looks like, for us and for those around us. (See Carnival, Lent, Pilgrimages).

Each discussion teaches us anew that … .there is no single point upon which two persons may reason,––food, dress, games, education, politics, religion,––but the two may take opposite sides, and each will bring forward infallible proofs which must convince the other were it not that he too is already convinced by stronger proofs to strengthen his own argument.–Charlotte Mason. (See Politicking)

So my task as a mother and educator for my son is to develop his reasoning abilities through a broad spectrum of lessons and experiences. (See Parenting Challenge–Creating an Atmosphere for Education) Beyond the English grammar worksheet in the morning and the Mexican history lesson in the afternoon, there are other lessons to learn. Sometimes these lessons are through his own studies (See Parenting Challenge–Education as a Discipline) and sometimes they are incidental. (See Parenting Challenge–Conformity and Education, Parenting Challenge–Cultural Apathy). And I continue to work at this because I firmly believe that the function of education is not to give technical skill but to develop a person; the more of a person, the better the work of whatever kind; and who doesn’t want his or her child to become a whole person?

It is my hope, that even though the laws in this country prove without a doubt that no wrong thing has ever been done or said, no crime committed but has been justified to the perpetrator by arguments coming to him involuntarily and produced with cumulative force by his own reason that my son can develop his own reasoning to find his own way as he travels through life. Since once we are convinced of the fallibility of our own reason we are able to detect the fallacies in the reasoning of our opponents and are not liable to be carried away by every wind of doctrine or custom.

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Filed under Carnival posts, Parenting Challenges and Cultural Norms

Tagged as Catechism, Catholic, Catholic Church, Catholicism, Charlotte Mason, Education, Mexico

Surviving Mexico

La Novena and el Luctuoso

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Mass and Burial Mexican style

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Parenting Challenge–Teaching Reasoning

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