Sunday Mass and Monday class

So I went to Mass on Sunday with my Señora and couldn’t help but to feel out of place. Not only was I the only one there with light hair under the age of 60 but I felt like I had never been in a Catholic Mass before. While I knew exactly what was going on I could not participate in any of the prayers(seeing as I am unfamiliar with the Spanish versions) or customs, which by the way are totally different than those of the States. A few things of note: first of all, instead of genuflecting in the isle before entering your pew and making the sign of the cross, you would enter the pew and go to your seat, then kneel on the kneeler and make the sign of the cross on your forehead, lips, and chest followed by the standard sign of the cross ending by kissing your hand. And we’re not talking your typical American style cross on forehead/lips/chest before the Gospel with the simple two quick lines traced by your thumb, it’s a full 4 point motion dabbing on the top bottom left and right. So by the end you have done a whole 17 dabs, and most people I observed seemed to be able to complete this ordeal in less than three seconds.
Secondly only about half the people go up for communion. I guess its kinda good, if people haven’t gone to confession or something and feel unable to receive, but I’m used to basically everyone going up, and if not for communion at least for a blessing (which they don’t do here, its all or nothing)
I also found a few things that were rather funny, like the familys a few pews in front of me each had a son, one wearing a Chivas jersey and the other in his Atlas jersey. I thought it was sweet, everyone coming together, Catholics and protestants, Jews and gentiles, black men and white men, Chivas fans and Atlas fans, joining hands and singing the words of the old negro spiritual “free at last, free at last, thank God almighty we are free at last!” Martin Luthor King Jr totally should have added that part… maybe Raiders fans and Chargers fans too. Another thing that made me smile was this little girl about ten years old in the pew in front of me, I swear it was her goal at the kiss of peace to shake hands with every person within a 15 foot radius, the priest started taking again and she was still scrambling to shake more hands. I actually admire her because when I was little I would always try to sit between my mom and my brother so that I didn’t have to hold a strangers hand during the Our Father and at the kiss of peace would shake as few hands as possible, basically I was a horrible child.
The most exciting and culturally different part about the Mexican Mass is the aftermath. As you leave the church, at the bottom of the steps I was greeted with an old man with a wooden cart on which he is grilling fresh corn, there was also a rather large mobile taco stand set up as well as a man cooking hotdogs. As you entered the small square you then came across more food stands, including a man with a pot of hot oil making churros along side a man with a bunch of ice chests full of ice cream. I would have liked to stay and check everything out but my Señora seemed to be in a hurry to get home, it was almost 9 o’clock… dinner time.

Monday was rather eventful but to keep this somewhat short so this blog is actually readable in a reasonable amount of time I’ll just go over the highlights. –Rode the bus for the first time, -met the 18 other students in the itto course, although we are separated into two classes so I am really only getting to know 8 of them, -threw away most of my lunch as it was basically inedible, -suffered through 6 hours of introduction to the program, -observed two really good English teachers during their classes, -found out I would be teaching my first class on Wednesday, -met a girl living in zapopan going to itto and decided it wasn’t that much farther away after all, -left my house as soon as I got home because I didn’t exactly feel like hanging around with no one to talk to, no internet and no tv, -showed up randomly at my old señoras house begging for a place to stay, -came home and had to tell my nice little old lady (but horrible cook and non supplier of hot water for showers) that I was leaving the following day.