"Queridos amigos"

"Beloved friends," Benedict XVI began his address to the pilgrims gathered for the World Youth Day Vigil last night. Young people from the North America, Latin America, Europe, Africa, and Asia milled around Cuatro Vientos all day, braving a crush of bodies, temperatures over 100 degrees Farenheit, and clouds of dust and rocks in the shadeless sleeping area, all vying for a good spot to celebrate Mass with the Pope today. And, boy, was I glad to watch from my room.

When I woke up yesterday morning, I did not think I could walk the pilgrimage to Cuatro Vientos, even after three cups of coffee.  My feet ached; my head ached; I could barely open my bleary eyes.  At Mass, I prayed for the grace to know my limitations, and I decided that I could do this; I had to do this for Christ crucified, for all the pilgrims who had braved worse conditions over the centuries.  And I especially had to do this for all people who were forced to make similar journeys.  In El Salvador this semester, I'd learned about the guindas during the civil war, when people were forced to flee from their own homes, hiding in the mountains from soldiers and bombs, walking for weeks to refugee camps where conditions were not much safer. This would be easy in comparison, a voluntary guinda in solidarity with refugees everywhere.

With this in mind, our suffocating metro ride and our trek in the unwavering sun to the vigil site was bearable.  We arrived at Cuatro Vientos around 3:30 p.m. and found D5, our sleeping area.  It was already full.  A fine, dry dust blew into our eyes, our noses, our teeth.  We set up our sleeping bags next to a fence, on the side of the road, rocks hard against our backs.