Journal entry: Perspectives on problems I had as a friar in St. Francis Friary, Costa Rica (July 16, 2000)
Timothy P. Dore, OFM Conv.
After spending nearly three months studying in an “intensive” Spanish language school and residing at the Asunción friary in San Antonio de Belen, in Heredia, Costa Rica (from September through November 1998), I moved into the friary at Saint Francis College (serving an elementary and high school) in Moravia, San José, Costa Rica, on January 29, 1998. I was excited about the transfer, the opportunity to work in Costa Rica, the possibility of learning more Spanish and about living in a different cultural environment. I had no fear about moving to Saint Francis, and felt that it was where “God wanted me to be.” In the early days, I entertained the possibility that I might want to remain in Costa Rica for many years, if that would be possible. The first few months of my Saint Francis experience were wonderful. I loved being there, and told that to many, many people–especially to my Provincial, and many other friars in the USA.
When I arrived at Saint Francis, I was informed by the guardian, Fr. Anibal Quesada, that in addition to receiving “free room and board,” I would not be expected to turn in my monthly salary pay check to the house. I would be receiving roughly four hundred dollars in pay from the school each month. He informed me that it would be better if I managed my own finances. He also informed me that I would be receiving a monthly “allowance” from the house of approximately one hundred dollars. As part of the arrangement, the Custody of Our Lady of the Angels, or the school, would also pay my yearly US Social Security tax, and for one round trip, to and from the States. I wondered if the five hundred dollars I had to manage each month would be enough to cover all of my other expenses. I would have to pay for any additional travel expenses, international phone calls, my US Internet access, Spanish classes, books, computer and personal school supplies, photocopying and postage, toiletries, shoes and clothing as well as any expenses related to personal recreation. My Spanish classes alone cost almost one hundred dollars a month. I worried that I wouldn’t have enough to cover all of my other expenses, but I agreed to the arrangement, mostly because I did not seem to be given any other choice. I was not offered the use of any house cars as part of my residency in the house, or because of my work with the school.
I always thought it was somewhat strange that I was not permitted to use the house cars, but it did not take me long to realize that each of the friars in residence had “his own” car, and that the rights over cars were jealously guarded. Still, I was frustrated, because the car issue was the one thing that made me feel like an “outsider” and not “equal” to the other friars. Because of the way in which the financial arrangements had been set up, I didn’t feel that I could argue for the use of a car. I didn’t want to overstep my welcome, but still the car issue bothered me greatly. I wished that the financial arrangements were different, and that I would have been treated like any other member of the house–with full rights, duties and privileges.
At the end of April of that same year, Anibal abruptly left his post in the school, and the community of friars. We had a new guardian, in the person of Eugenio Rivera. I was saddened by the departure of Anibal. At the same time, I did not expect any great changes in my status within the friary, or in the manner that the friars regarded me.
On May 14, 1999, I had a meeting with Eugenio in order to review with him some of my questions, etc. One of the principle concerns that I shared with him was my desire to have access to a car. Previously, I had not really had any need for a car, because I didn’t really go anywhere, and when I did, it was very easy to take a bus or a taxi. I didn’t mind using public transportation, as that was what a large percentage of Costa Rican’s did. But by the time I met with Eugenio on May 14th, the rainy season had begun and it was a little more difficult to stand out on the street on the bus stop or to hail a taxi, or to walk even a short distance. I usually walked the mile to my Spanish class every Thursday afternoon, and on some days it had poured down rain, and I had gotten soaked. I told Eugenio that I felt like I was a bit trapped without the use of a car, and that it was not part of my experience of Community life not to have access to a vehicle. Also, at that point, I had been in Costa Rica for a few months and had started to feel the “itch” to get out easier. Eugenio told me that he understood and that he would quickly try to make some arrangement to meet my wishes. I didn’t need to “have my own car” like the others had, but I hoped to have the freedom to use those cars when they were not being used.
On Monday, May 17, 1999, Fr. Victor Mora, the Custos of the Custody, told me that I would be given access to the car that had been left behind by Anibal. I did not ask for that car per se, but rather was hoping that at least the other cars would be available if I needed one. Victor had told me that the use of the car would be no problem, and that I should feel free to use it whenever I would desire.
I was scheduled to use the car for the first time on Wednesday of that week, as I was to celebrate the Mass at a nearby sister’s convent (Las Hermanas del Buen Pastor in Guadalupe). This was daily “house obligation” and like the other friars who lived at Saint Francis, I was regularly scheduled to celebrate the Mass there. However, for some mysterious reason, still unknown to me, Wednesday came and I was still not allowed to use the car. The sisters sent a taxi over to pick me up for the Mass. There seemed to be some “infighting” among the friars about the car issue, but I was not privy to any of the discussion.
On May 23, 1999, Juan Carlos handed me the keys to his car after he emptied it of all his personal belongings. The friars had shifted their “ownership” of the various cars, and he took over one of the other cars that was a much better make and model. The bottom line for me was that I could have cared less about what kind of car I would be able to use, as long as it moved. The whole car saga seemed strange to me. When I lived in Brooklyn, we often offered visiting friars the use of our cars–even friars from other provinces and countries. It seemed to me that the car question in Costa Rica came down to one word: POWER. I wrote these very thoughts in an email to a friend on the day that the keys were first placed into my hands.
I used the “silver” car from May 23rd, until the day I left for a month long visit to the States on Saturday, July 3, 1999. During that period of time, I used the car about ten times. Most of the trips were very short (to the sisters’s convent for Mass, to go to my Spanish class, and for a couple of local outings with Fr. Michael Lorentsen, who was visiting at the time). I never once had to refill the tank with gas, as I had used very little gasoline during the forty two days that the car was in my “possession.”
When I returned to Costa Rica on Monday, August 2nd, I found that things had changed. There was a different “mood” in the house, and some of the friars seemed to be distant, even hostile, toward me. I had no idea what had transpired, and could not imagine any reason for any hostility. Nothing was directly said to me, and no explanations were offered to me, but I found that I was once again not free to use the cars. The “silver” car was once again back in Juan Carlos’ possession, and I heard from one of the friary employees the nicer car that Juan Carlos had claimed back in May was “not working well” and was now “up for sale.” A week later, a dear aunt of mine suddenly passed away, and I felt compelled to return to the States for her funeral. I was in the States for more than a week. The rest of August passed quickly, and I did not have the emotional energy to confront the friars about the car situation all over again. I “borrowed” Juan Carlos’ “silver” car when, and only when, I needed it (mostly to go to the sisters’ for mass). On one occasion, I asked Juan Carlos if there “was some problem with regard to the car” and he said, “no, not at all, there’s no problem.” The reality did not seem to concur with his response to me, but I chalked it up to my lack of fluency with Spanish. I assumed I just didn’t understand him well enough to fully comprehend his answer to me. Perhaps I was in denial.
On August 31st, we had our usual house chapter which is on the last Tuesday of every month. It was during the house chapter, while the minutes from the July house chapter were being read, that it suddenly became crystal clear to me why things had changed with regard to my car “privileges.” During the reading of the minutes, I discovered that, in July, the house had voted to deny me the monthly allowance of one hundred dollars. The rationale was that because I did not “contribute” to the house financially, that the house had no obligation to grant me any allowance moneys. They had also voted to deny me regular use of cars. I had already come to clearly realize that I had lost car privileges. I had not yet realized that the monthly allowance was revoked as well. According to the minutes, the friars agreed that “Timothy can not have sole use of a car because he did not know how to keep in clean, and had failed to get the oil changed.” These words were actually written into the house chapter minutes of the July chapter (which I did not see or hear about until I sad there and heard them read). I had absolutely no idea what the accusation about cleanliness meant, or where it came from. I had used the car for about five weeks, and it was true that I never got it washed, but I drove the car so very few times, that it almost always sat in the garage, and it was not that dirty. It certainly did not need an oil change. I wasn’t really that upset that the friars felt that the car was dirty, or that they might have believed that I was possibly getting too much money, but I was very annoyed by the manner in which the discussion was “formally” conducted in my absence. I was also greatly disturbed that these issues were never brought to me directly, by anyone. They had no idea about my financial situation, and they took it upon themselves to alter my budget without any input from the raw facts themselves, data which by then would have proven that I was actually going into debt. I had never been never asked a single question, by anyone, regarding my actual financial needs.
The manner in which the friars used to decide these matters “for me” caused me to seriously question just how “fraternal” the whole process had been. Up until the moment of that house chapter, no one had said a word to me about either issue (in fact, neither before that July house chapter, nor after). No one had taken me aside to explain the things that had transpired in my absence. As I sat at that meeting, and listened to those minutes being read, I felt totally humiliated. It was as if my whole world had been turned upside down. In one minute, every positive feeling that I had about being at Saint Francis, and living with those friars, just evaporated. I was confused, angry and hurt, and was unable to utter a word in response to the reading of those minutes. I was truly “speechless” as I sat through that meeting. When I went to my bed that night, I felt just horrible. I could not sleep the whole night.
For the first time since I had arrived in Costa Rica, I wanted to go home. My feeling was that I wanted to pack my bags and leave on the next flight. I knew that my feelings were based upon anger and confusion, so I didn’t really want to pursue the possibility of departing, but I had to be honest with myself and admit that was exactly how I was feeling.
The next day, I went to Eugenio’s room and sat down. I insisted that he show me the minutes from the July house chapter. I told him in very strong words that I thought what was recorded in those minutes was “sinful, offensive and un-fraternal.” I also complained about the whole process, and that fact that I had never been consulted about certain questions, nor had I been informed personally about conclusions that had been reached, and voted upon, by the house chapter. I told him about my feelings of wanting to leave Costa Rica “on the next flight.” I don’t think it was difficult for him to realize how angry I was. I felt that we had a good talk, and he seemed genuinely apologetic because of the way in which the whole thing had transpired. He made some critical comments about Juan Carlos’ motives, as he had been my principal accuser during the July meeting. Eugenio clearly told me “not to trust” Juan Carlos in the future. He also promised me that his car would be available to me whenever I would want to use it–and he promised to have a discussion with Victor regarding my financial questions.
Juan Carlos seemed particularly hostile toward me during the days that followed. On Thursday, September 2, 1999, I met with Juan Carlos and we discussed all of the issues that I thought were important. We had what I thought was a good conversation that “cleared the air” about complaints that he had made about me to the other friars. Juan Carlos told me that there was a perception in the house that I was “privileged” because of the fact that I kept my own paycheck and handled my own finances. He mentioned that my monthly phone bill was high, and it seemed contrary to our vow of poverty to be making expensive calls to the United States. I reminded him that I paid for my own phone calls, and that they were never covered by the house. I also told him that my phone bill since coming to Costa Rica was actually far less than it had ever been when I lived in New York. In fact, my calls were few and usually totaled no more than fifty dollars per month. I was astounded that there would be any sense that I was “privileged.” I felt like it was exactly the opposite; I was not privileged, but rather was a “second class citizen” in the house.
On Monday, September 20th, I met with Fray Jorge Dobles (he lived in a different friary in Alajuela, CR). We got together as friends, and not because I wanted to “report” all that had occurred as a consequence of the July and August house chapters. I thought our time together in a small café in Moravia was very fraternal and friendly. I mentioned to him the difficulties I had gone through because of recent events. I sensed that Jorge was clearly “on my side” with regard to the problems that I had faced. Although I felt very affirmed by Jorge’s word’s of support, I sensed that he was even more angry than I was. During our conversation, Jorge told me about some of the “history” of related problems within the house. I was not surprised to learn that some of my own situation was just part of a broader, long range, pattern of problems. Jorge even invited me to move out of Saint Francis and to take up residence in Alajuela if I would not want to live in the school friary any longer. I told him that I thought the situation was not that severe, and that I had confidence that things would be worked out for the best. After my talk with Jorge, I was more or less at peace with things and was optimistic about a good resolution. The peace did not last long.
All of September, October and November were difficult months for me. I was often depressed and angry because of my living situation, and clearly realized that “the honeymoon was over” with the friars. I continued to enjoy my work in the school. It was the work in the classroom that made me want to stay in Costa Rica. I truly enjoyed teaching and it was a complete pleasure to work with the children and the faculty in the school. During those months, I was often asked by faculty members if I would be returning in the following school year. The school principal expressed her hope to me that I would be returning. Even though things were not well in the house, I lived in hope that things would improve. I believed that whatever had gone wrong could have been rectified. I wanted to make things right.
As the school year was coming to an end, I was approached by the possibility of teaching English in the following school year. I liked the idea, and expressed the desire to do it. I had lingering fears about the situation in the friary, but still believed that things would improve with better communication and honesty. I really tried to be positive about my future with the friars at Saint Francis.
On Wednesday, November 3, 1999, I had a meeting with Victor, and we discussed various questions regarding my finances, and the possibility of me returning for the following school year. It was a very positive, friendly and hopeful meeting for me. I made it clear to Victor that, should I stay for another year, I would want to be fully integrated into the house, especially with regards to finances. I told Victor that it had been my preference all along not to receive a pay check or to handle my own finances. I wanted to be treated just like any other friar, in all respects. Victor agreed with me, and we decided that I would request another year at the school, and that I would freely turn over my salary to the house. I told my Provincial about my desire to return to Saint Francis for another year, and he agreed to the request.
On Tuesday, November 30, 1999 we had another house chapter. By then, the friars knew that I planned to return for another year, and that I would be turning over my paycheck to the house, just like the others. During the house chapter I was told by Eugenio that in the future I would not be allowed to make phone calls to the United States, “unless it would be an emergency.” I strongly rejected this new dictate, and told him that under no circumstances would I accept such conditions. I reminded him, and the others, that I am from the States. I told him that any reasonable person would “find no fault with someone calling their family or close friends every now and then.” Again, there was some grumbling from some of the friars about how I was “privileged” and that my phone use was supposedly an example of it. Both Juan Carlos and Rolando mentioned my “going to Victor and Jorge with every house issue,” as a example of how I supposedly acted like I was “above the friars of the house.” I stood my ground, and I refused to accept the possibility than any unreasonable limits would be placed on my phone privileges. I knew there was a continuing tension between myself and the other friars, but I remained optimistic that things would “work out.”
I departed Costa Rica again on Saturday, December 18th and was away until Sunday, January 30, 2000. The new school year began with faculty meetings on Tuesday, February 2nd. The first day of classes was on Tuesday, February 8th. I was assigned to teach two second grade classes. In all, between the two classes, I would be teaching thirty lessons a week. Although I would no longer be receiving my own paycheck, I learned that my salary had increased more than double of what it had been the previous year (when I was teaching only twenty lessons of religion per week). Now, my salary went directly into the treasuries of the house. I was happy about the change in the financial arrangements, and hoped that it would solve a lot of the problems of the previous year–especially with regard to any notion that I was a “privileged” member of the friary. I fully expected that the car situation would be somehow regulated, and that I would be given access to cars, just like any other member of the house. That did not happen.
In early February, I took on the responsibility of celebrating two Sunday Masses in the nearby parish of Nuestra Señora del Sagrado Corazón de Jesús in Llorente. The parish Masses took place in the church and in two chapels located at a distance from the main church. The pastor asked me to cover different Masses every week, depending on his needs to be in one Mass location or another. I was eager to “get out of the house” and to have the opportunity to practice my “pastoral Spanish.” I enjoyed going to the parish, where I had been warmly received by the people and the pastor. It soon became very apparent to me that it would not be easy to secure the use of a car to go to these Masses, some of which were celebrated in the chapel of Santa Monica which is quite far from the house. I had to use taxis or walk on many occasions to go to the church or to the chapels. One Saturday evening I had to frantically search for a ride, and was lucky to find Fr. Maury who drove me over to Santa Monica in “his” car. On that night, one of the parishioners drove me home.
On Saturday, April 29th, a good “Gringa” friend named Pattie, who had been living in Costa Rica as long as I had, was moving back to the States. She had been living near Alajuela. Pattie had asked me if I could possibly drive her to the airport on that Saturday morning. She needed the help, as she was taking all of her belongings, and her pets as well. I really wanted to help her, and to see her off at the airport, as we had become very close friends during our time together in Costa Rica. I wanted to meet Pattie on Friday evening for a “buen viaje” dinner in a restaurant, then I wanted to spend the night in Alajuela, so that I could easily meet her on Saturday morning and take her to the airport. During the week before her departure, I asked the friars in the house if I would be able to use a car in order to do this. I would need a car from about four o’clock on Friday afternoon, until about nine o’clock on Saturday morning. No one wanted to give me a definite answer, and so in turn, I was very stressed about not being able to do the same for Pattie. I felt angry about the possibility of not being to accompany her to the airport with a car. I also felt that it was ridiculous that such a simple plan could not be easily made, especially at such an important moment for my friend. It caused me to feel tremendous anger toward the friars, mostly because I knew that if they had been in my shoes, that they would not have had even the slightest problem making such arrangements for one of their friends. The double standards, and lack of equality, in that moment became crystal clear to me. It wasn’t until nine o’clock on Thursday night, after I had somewhat of an unpleasant discussion about it with Eugenio, that I was finally “granted” use of a car. I couldn’t imagine ever having to put up with that kind of nonsense at home. Thank God I was able to take Pattie out to dinner on Friday, and then to the airport on Saturday, but the experience regarding the cars at that moment again left me feeling very wounded, exasperated and angry.
I continued to have trouble “reserving” cars for use. It constantly annoyed me, and formed the basis of my feelings regarding how I was not treated like an equal in the friary. It was just “the same old story” over and over again. The friars seemed to have no idea how it bothered me, and they seemed to have no sensitivity to the symbolic nature the “disparity of car rights” had for me. It really wasn’t simply a question of transportation; it was far greater than that for me. This had a definite relation to my lack of enthusiasm about attending community prayers.
On Tuesday, May 30th, I received a letter from my Provincial in which he stated “I would like you to seriously consider coming back in August to be assigned to [our Province’s parish in] Jonesboro.” I was not surprised by the request, because it had been part of some discussions that I had previously had with him. In light of the problems that I had experienced, I thought that his request might have been able to give me a “graceful” excuse to depart Costa Rica, but my heart kept telling me that I should stay in the country and finish the school year. I anguished over making a decision about it. On June 6th, I wrote a lengthy email to my Provincial and tried to explain my reasons for wanting to stay in Costa Rica until the end of the school year. What follows, is part of my note to him:
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
“Because of my questions and concerns, I find myself in a very difficult situation at the moment. I want to say ‘yes’ to Atlanta and to the needs of the Province, and I certainly do not want to say ‘no’ to the way ‘the Spirit is pointing.’ But at the same time, I feel that I have made a commitment of time and ministry to the Costa Rican Custody. And of course, all I need to do is think about how much I enjoy my work in the school. Having a great rapport with the other faculty members, as well as with my students, causes me to feel awful about the possibility of leaving before the school year is over.
The timing of this possible transfer is terrible for me, and for those for whom I am currently ministering. I do not want to say ‘no’ to this possible transfer without good reason, but I ask you to consider how it would be a great sacrifice for me to cut short my assignment here (and not just for me, but for many here at Saint Francis–from the friars to my students).
Therefore, I am requesting that I be allowed to stay at St. Francis until the school year ends on December 15, 2000. After that point, I would be able to accept an assignment to the parish in Jonesboro, free of any sense of failing to fulfill previous obligations, or of ‘walking away from a task undone.’ At that time, I could then enthusiastically embrace any effort to work with Linus and others in order to establish some type of new urban friary/ministry within the Archdiocese of Atlanta’.”
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
I made a phone call to the Provincial on Wednesday, June 7th and was able to express the same feelings to him directly. During our conversation, he told me that it would be unlikely, that he would ask me to depart Costa Rica before the end of the school year. It wasn’t until Sunday, July 2nd, the Provincial wrote back to me and stated that “The Jonesboro need will be taken care of without tapping you.” By then, problems had started to heat up in the house again, and I wondered if I had wasted that opportunity to “gracefully” leave the country.
On Saturday June 17th, at about six o’clock in the evening, I asked Juan Carlos if a car would be available for me on the following Sunday afternoon. I was scheduled celebrate the Mass in the parish. He told me that he wasn’t sure and that he would get back to me later. Because I desired to have some kind of immediate assurance about the use of a car, I simply went directly to Eugenio and asked him the same question. If Eugenio would have said “yes” then I would have gone right back to Juan Carlos and told him “never mind.” It would have been a simple case of “trying to make arrangements by checking out all possibilities.” Never was it my intention to “go above” Juan Carlos, or anything like that. As far as I was concerned, it was a simple matter of scheduling. When I did ask Eugenio, he replied to me “in anger” and told me that if I would be celebrating a Mass in the parish, “that they would have to send a taxi and then pay for it.” I was somewhat surprised by his response, even stunned. I inferred from what he said, that I simply had no car privileges at all. His words, and this new dictate, disturbed me greatly, but I did not argue with him (mostly because I was just too tired of the same old story).
I decided to call Fray Victor on Sunday morning to talk about what Eugenio had told me the previous evening. I did not call Fray Victor in order to “go above Eugenio’s head,” but rather called him to seek fraternal advice about how to handle this latest dilemma. I’ve always felt that I could fraternally confide in him when unsettled about something. He told me that Eugenio was definitely wrong to place this new expectation on me (i.e., the parish had to “pay” for a taxi for me). Fray Victor suggested that I bring it up at the next house meeting for discussion. Although I felt that his suggestion would only lead me down “a dead end street” (because I’ve been there countless times before), I did have the sense that Fray Victor more or less supported me on the issue. At that point, when I hung up the telephone, I decided to put everything in writing and make a proposal that I would just hand to the other friars before the meeting.
I thought it would be a good idea to write out something because my Spanish is not perfect, and I wanted to be crystal clear about whatever I would “propose.” I later decided that it might be more proper to make my proposal and put it in the form of a letter address to Eugenio. I decided to write to Eugenio because he is the guardian of the house, and I hoped that if he were “informed” ahead of time, that it would better facilitate any discussion of the matter. I did not write anything immediately, because I had a very busy week in school and hoped to be able to do it during the following weekend when I would have more time.
On Saturday morning, June 24th, I was scheduled to do the Mass with the sisters at my usual time of eleven o’clock. Because of my uncertainty with regards to when, or if, a car would be available to me to go to the Mass, I was feeling very stressed much of that Saturday morning.
It seemed that both Juan Carlos and Eugenio were out of the house. Finally, at about 10:15 AM, I found Fernando and asked him if he would be using the car, or if it would be available to me to go to the sisters’ convent for the Mass. When I approached Fernando, he seemed somewhat hostile toward me, and told me rather “matter of factly” that he was “going out” and needed the car. At that moment, I really lost my composure and reacted very angrily toward his response to me. I started screaming loudly at him in English and told him that “I’m tired of this sh*t . . . and this f*ck*ng cr*p has to stop . . . and this ‘stupid’ situation is driving me crazy . . . etc, etc.” Then I turned around and slammed the door as I walked away. I’m sure he didn’t understand what I said (except maybe the “f” word and “stupid”, which of course is a much harsher word in Spanish), but I think he got my drift about how annoyed I was about what I felt was the “same old story.” I really lost my cool with Fernando, and was actually a little annoyed with myself because of it. It seemed that as a result of my temper tantrum, Fernando made and effort to find me a car to use. He managed to bring me keys to a car within five minutes of my tirade. He also made some comment about “talking to Victor about this” but I didn’t understand exactly what he said because of the language problem.
I was so hot and bothered by then, I felt like packing all of my bags on the spot, and taking the next plane to the United States. As I thought about this idea, the faces of all those second graders whom I worked with every day came to my mind (i.e., Silvia, Kattia, Maria Elena, Sergio, Esteban, Adriana, Mary Ann, Mariana, Esteban, Jose Fernando, Andres, Marisol, Adrian, Luis Alfonso, Jorge, Katerina, Veronica, Carolina, Maria Fernanda, Jerko, Jose Angél, Daniela, Antonio, Sofia, Pedro Pablo, Daniela Maria, Diana, Mauricio, Mariana, Fernan, Siliva Maria, Natalia, Juan Jose, Maria Fernanda, Carlos, Melissa, Adrian, Joe, David, Miguel Angel, Andy, Maria Jose, Mariana, Pedro Antonio, Nelson, Sofia, Melania, Fabian, Laura, Juan Miguel and Stephanie). I was feeling torn between the agitation I felt because of the car problem, and those kids who had managed to get inside of my heart. As I contemplated my discontent, I imagined that walking away from my students probably would have been emotionally impossible for me to do. And of course I thought about the other wonderful people at Saint Francis as well, like the teachers Delphin and Xinia, Sandra, Anabelle, Doña Rosario, and all the first and second grade teachers who would “camp out” daily in the common area outside of the classrooms. I thought about many of my students from the previous year with whom I would often stop to chat with, and there was Gabriela my old tutor, and a few nice people I had met at the Intensa language school, where I was teaching English in the evenings. And I thought about Roberto and Frays Jorge, Victor, Maury and Bertrand (yes, there were some friars with whom I felt I did have a very good rapport). As I drove over to the sister’s convent for the Mass that morning, I kept thinking about all those people, and I asked myself, over and over again, “Why isn’t it easy just to get on an airplane and go home, and be freed from all the stress I feel in the friary at Saint Francis?” The nuns, of course, had no idea that I was thinking about all of this during the Mass–they probably thought I was focused on the celebration of the Birth of John the Baptist, which was the feast of the day, but I couldn’t have been further away in thought.
On Sunday, June 25th, I was scheduled to do the Mass in the parish at four in the afternoon. I decided to plan on taking a taxi or to walk to the church (it is only about a mile and a half away from the friary–not a problem to walk, as long as it wasn’t not raining). I was too tired to think about daring to ask for the use of a car for the Mass. I was thinking that I didn’t want to have to “go through the motions” of once more getting down on my proverbial knees and groveling, only to lose my cool and blow up again, should my request be denied.
At three o’clock on Sunday, I left the house and decided just to walk to the parish church. I managed to get there by three thirty, and so I sat in the rectory for a while and chatted with the pastor and some of his family members who were visiting. At four, I began the Mass and then afterwards, I left and began to walk back to the house. When I was about half way home it started to pour down rain. It was a torrential rain, and the wind accompanying it was incredible. I got totally soaked. I was so wet that even my underwear was drenched. As I continued to walk, I could hear “squish, squish” sounds with each step I made, as the inside of my shoes and my socks were saturated with water. Needless to say, I was not happy with the weather, and it only threw salt into the wound of my not being able to/not wanting to grovel in order to use a car again. As soon as I got home I changed my clothes, then I sat down in front of the computer and I wrote the following letter to Eugenio (recall that I had planned to write, but my experience with the rain that afternoon provoked me to sit down and get it done very quickly–it was an impassioned moment and my sentiments were very unclouded, no pun about the weather intended):
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
June 25, 2000
Dear Eugenio:
Greetings and peace in the Lord Jesus.
I apologize for not writing this letter in Spanish, but I want to be very precise in what I desire to say. I believe that I can effectively do this only in English. I am compelled to write this letter because of problems that I believe I have as a friar within this community of Saint Francis. It seems to me that I am not afforded the same respect as the others in the convent. It seems to me that I am not “equal” to the other friars in this place. It appears to me that there are un fraternal and double standards placed upon me. In a sense, I feel like a “second class citizen” in this house. Among other things, this is manifested most blatantly in the way that I am not allowed to enjoy the same car privileges as are the other friars. I am tired, angry and upset about this situation, and ask you to attempt to remedy it in some way.
It is true that I am a foreigner, and am not a member of the Custody of Our Lady of the Angels, but I have taken the same vows as you and the others, and have an obedience to live in this community. I am not a mere visitor in this house, but in fact live here and work in the apostolate of Saint Francis College.
There are seven friars living in this house. There are five cars. With the exception of Fr. Bertrand, who is unable to drive, I am the only friar who is not allowed normal and regular “car privileges.” In my nearly sixteen years as a friar, I have never had to beg and grovel for the use of a car as I have had to do in this house. Why is this the situation here?
Recently, you told me that if I am celebrating a Mass in the nearby parish of Llorente, that the parish will need to send a taxi and that they will need to pay for it. I ask you, what other friar in this house is required to make such arrangements? Is this a just expectation? Are the activities that I do outside of the house, such as celebrating the Mass for the people of God, considered to have less importance than the activities of the other friars? If so, why?
Perhaps of less importance, but certainly related, is my inability to freely enjoy the possibility of using the cars for the simple pleasure of meeting with friends, visiting different places in the area, or just to go shopping, and so forth. All of the other friars of the house are able to do such things freely, and without any restriction. Each and every time I have desired to use a car for such purposes, I have had “to explain myself” to this or that friar. Many times I have wanted to use a car and have had to endure the embarrassment of simply being told “no.” This has made me feel like a child, or I might even say it has made me feel emasculated. What other friar in this house has such a burden placed on him?
Just like other friars in this house, I work very hard in the school and bring a salary into this house. I contribute financially to the life of the friary. Why is there a double standard with regards to the use of “community property”? I professed the same vow as you and the others to live “for the whole time of my life . . . without anything of my own.” It appears to me that the friars of this house indeed “possess” property (i.e., automobiles) and this seems to me to be completely contrary to the vows we have all professed.
In the Rule of 1221, Saint Francis wrote that “all the friars without exception are forbidden to wield power or authority, particularly over one another” (Chapter 5). I believe that in my own situation, I am forced to submit to the friars who “wield the power of cars over me.” This is a situation which seems contrary to the very ideals expressed by our Seraphic Father. In another place in the Rule of 1221 Saint Francis wrote that “The friars . . . are forbidden to have animals of any kind, either in their own keeping or in the keeping of others, or in any other way. They are also forbidden to ride horseback . . . unless they are forced to it . . . by real necessity” (Chapter 15). I have never understood this section of the rule until now. It seems to me that the Saint wanted to make sure that his brothers were never in the position to sin against their vow of poverty, especially with regard to the way that they related to the other friars in the community. I think he believed that if the friars rode on horseback, then they would risk having privileges that would place them in positions of superiority over the other friars. It seems to me that this is precisely the situation in this convent because of the manner in which the friars here “keep their cars.”
I have always understood that the friars “share everything that they have” and that there should be no friars who have greater privileges than others with regard to “community property.” This obviously is not the case in this friary. I’ve been told that things are the way they are here because “they’ve always been that way.” I’ve never known this to be a legitimate reason for continuing an unjust situation. And so I appeal to you, and to the friars of this house, to reflect seriously about this situation, which seems to be impugned by the very words of Saint Francis.
Until I came to Saint Francis, the friars of every convent in which I have lived have maintained the keys to all of the cars in a common place. In the place where the keys have been kept, a calendar has also been maintained. According to this kind of arrangement, each friar can reserve, for specific times and dates, whatever cars he wishes to use. In this manner, no friar is able to control or “own” any specific car. Also, according to this arrangement no friar may “wield the power” of car privileges over another. I suggest this practice be started in this house, and that every friar of the house be subjected to its rules.
Thank you for taking the time to read this letter, and for considering the sentiments I have shared with you herein.
Fraternally, and in the spirit of Saint Francis, paz y bien, Timothy
Copy to:
Fr. Victor Mora, Custos, Our Lady of the Angels Custody
Fr. Canice Connors, Minister Provincial, Immaculate Conception Province
Fr. Mark Curesky, Minister Provincial, Saint Anthony of Padua Province
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
On Monday morning, June 26th, I handed the letter to Eugenio personally, and I told him that it addressed my concerns about my inability to freely use cars. I also told him that it was not my desire to be “confrontational” but wanted to put things in writing to precisely state my case. I had hoped to have a chance to talk to him later in the day after he might have had the opportunity to read the letter, but I was unable to see him after that. When I arrived home in the evening, after my evening of teaching my adult English class, I found the following letter from Eugenio waiting for me in my room (it has been translated here from the original Spanish):
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
26 June, 2000
Dear Timoteo:
I would like to respond, in the most respectful way, to the letter that you have sent me.
It bothers me a lot, but I am not surprised, that you have sent a copy of your letter to your Provincial and to mine. And I say that I am not surprised because this has been your “modus operandi” for a long time. Systematically you have ignored and not respected my authority as guardian of this house, to the indifference and lack of community life in this Convent.
From your point of view, you feel you are a “second class citizen” in the house, and you arrive at this conclusion because of a point you constantly repeat in your letter: you don't have car. This is the great problem. I sincerely believe that if there is a privileged friar in this house, it is you. Who of us has their own schedule? Who of us decides independently if he will pray with the community at morning prayers? Who of us decides whether it is important or not to join the community for breakfast or lunch? The answer to these queries is very simple: it is you and no one else but you.
Our Custody needs help. What is your contribution to this house or to the Custody in general? All of us who live here at Saint Francis have pastoral commitments. I ask you: What is yours? Do you want, need, or demand a vehicle to celebrate a Sunday Mass that is ten minutes away from this house?
You tell us to look at the wage that you contributes for your work in the School. I remind you: From the time that you began to work in the School last year, until February of this year, you NEVER contributed your wages to this house. All the money prior to that went directly into your pocket. I also remind you of all the loans that you have requested and that have still not been canceled. The last monies that you requested, in order to attend a baptism of a nephew in April of this year, has never been given back to the house.
You remind us that your solemn vows make you worthy of all the constitutional rights of all the friars. I wonder: And your duties? This seems to me to be an absolute and total demonstration of your immaturity, in spite of your 16 years in religious life.
In this friary we have a house meeting every month. I ask you to remind me of the day in which you have expressed your disagreement with the things that you now claim. Do you believe that the copies your sent to the Provincials will now frighten us? I have no fear about this because I know that our superiors are respectful of the internal life of friaries. That which I lament it is that you have not followed the advice that Fray Victor gave you: to talk about all of these things in the house meeting. This advice he gave to you directly a few days ago, and you have simply ignored it.
I ask you, my brother, doesn’t it seem that this way is better for the friars with whom you live daily?
It has been more than eight days since I announced the house meeting. Last night, you left me a note in which you excuse yourself of the responsibility to offer the reflection and prayer that was placed upon you in January. Now, and in obedience to your superior, I ask you to be present for the house meeting.
They are many things more that I could or would have to say. We will take advantage of tomorrow's house meeting on Tuesday, so that all the members of this house can express what they feel.
With all consideration and respect, Eugenio
Copy to:
Fr. Victor Mora, Custos, Our Lady of the Angels Custody
Fr. Canice Connors, Minister Provincial, Immaculate Conception Province
Fr. Mark Curesky, Minister Provincial, Saint Anthony of Padua Province
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
I read the letter and was surprised about how angry his response to me seemed to be. I hadn’t really thought that sending copies to the superiors was such a bad thing. I saw it merely as a way of keeping them informed of what was going on. I’m sure I did not believe them to be the “threat” that apparently Eugenio thought that I believed them to be. In a sense, I was happy to have Eugenio’s letter because it seemed like I was finally getting some type of reaction to my year old complaints about the car situation.
On Tuesday morning, June 27th, I sat down and wrote a rebuttal to many of the points contained in Eugenio’s letter. It was therapeutic for me to write these thoughts, as I believed many of his points were inaccurate or outright fictions. I had contemplated putting my rebuttal into another letter to present to him, but I after I wrote down my thoughts, I decided that it might be better not to put another “letter” into the record. I thought it would be better to simply use my thoughts when confronted at the house meeting. If another letter would be necessary, I decided it was better to wait until I experienced whatever might happen at the house meeting. The following were my rebuttal points to Eugenio’s letter:
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
1) I actually did not send the letters to the provincials, but rather wanted the “freedom” to do so should it be necessary to explain my position at a later date. I have no problem about informing “higher up” superiors about things, and think that it might be a healthy part of the process, if NOTHING is being done on the local level after every other avenue has been exhausted.
2) I would like more specific examples of how I have supposedly “ignored and not respected” the authority of the guardian. I can't think of a single example or incident from which this claim can be substantiated.
3) I have previously discussed with the guardian my struggle “in the mornings” (in my experience in Costa Rica, morning prayers are held no later than 6:00 a.m.). I’m not a “morning person” and don’t think I ever will be. I have brought this struggle to him during what I thought were fraternal heart to heart meetings. He has previously told me that he “understands” my struggle in the morning, yet he encouraged me, in a very positive way, to do something to change it. I am distressed that he has now, used this as an issue to attack me, and that somehow it is viewed as a “tit for tat” with regard to my rights/duties within the community.
4) The lack of a “prayerful environment” discourages me from even wanting to be in the chapel every day (i.e., prayers are “rushed through”, no singing, arrangement of chairs in chapel, being “put on the spot” to do readings). Although I realize it is nothing to brag about, am usually in the chapel at least two or three mornings a week, if not more. I am almost always present for evening prayer.
5) My lack of attendance at lunch is the result of my school schedule, over which I had no control, therefore it has not been decided by “no one else but me.”
6) When I do attend meals (breakfast or lunch) no one talks to me–and then only if I initiate conversation. This is not easy for me in Spanish, and gets tiring after a while.
7) The car is not the real issue, but is rather symbolic of a deeper problem of respect and equality within the community.
8) And yes, if the church where I am scheduled to celebrate a Sunday Mass is ten minutes away, then I want to use a car to travel there.
9) It is precisely because I can’t depend on the possibility of having use of a car that I’ve been unable to make other commitments, such as to the parish in Escazu (located completely on the other side of San Jose). Without reliable transportation it is impossible to say “yes” when invited.
10) The financial arrangements of the previous year were placed upon me. I did not ask for that arrangement, nor did I want that arrangement.
11) The money from last year did not “go into my pockets” but was rather used to pay for real and legitimate expenses that I incurred. I did not ask for house reimbursements or loans for expenses last year.
12) I don’t know anything about so-called “loans” supposedly given to me and to which the guardian is referring. This is complete fiction.
13) The money that I earned last year did not in fact cover my real and legitimate expenses. I can present a detailed financial report that outlines this–which will actually show that by the end of the year I was at least a thousand dollars “in the red.” My own Provincial in the States gave me money to pay off the debts that I had by the end of the year. I certainly did not enrich myself last year, and can think of no legitimate reason why this would still be “an issue.” It has nothing to do with the current situation.
14) When I traveled to the States in April to attend the wedding of my cousin (not a baptism of a nephew), I did not ask for, nor did I receive, a single cent from the house. The entire trip was paid for by my uncle. There is no real issue here. I don’t understand why this has been brought up as an issue. Another fiction.
15) The guardian is absolutely right to mention my “duties” as a friar. I believe that I have often been left “guessing” about what those duties are in this house because things are rarely communicated to me directly. I usually find out later that this or that friar has made some kind of a comment behind my back and this is how information gets back to me–after the fact, and after strong opinions about me have been formed.
16) To say that I demonstrate “absolute and total immaturity” is insulting and offensive. I should receive an apology for this.
17) The guardian is right to say that the house chapter is the place to talk about issues. Everything that I have mentioned AGAIN in my letter, I have previously talked about in one way or another, in the house chapter and in many conversations with various friars. There is nothing NEW here.
18) I certainly did not intend to “frighten” the guardian by [possibly] sending a letter to my Provincial. I believe in open and honest communication. This involves frank conversations with superiors in the broader community. The guardian’s reflection about me “going over his head” says a lot about the model of leadership to which he aspires. Frankly, I have already mentioned all of theses issues in the past, and they have not been dealt with by my guardian. I am tired of “talking” about things and never seeing any remedies. To include other friars, indeed those who are “ministers” to the broader community is a very fraternal and proper thing to do. No guardian, in my opinion, has absolute power over any individual friar. Again, this just speaks of my guardian’s understanding of authority within the community. I believe it is an outdated model rejected by most in today’s experience of religious life.
19) I find it interesting that the guardian seemed to know about my conversation with Fray Victor. Isn’t it odd, if this concerned him, that he would never have brought this concern to me “fraternally” and directly, since he had knowledge about it? This is the “protocol” he expects me to use when dealing with him. And please, he can’t claim that I didn’t do precisely that with him, because in fact I did speak to him, in person and directly about the very issue long before I ever mentioned it to Fray Victor. Also, I did not ignore the advice of Fray Victor, but in fact my letter was intended to address the question BECAUSE of what he recommended. My letter was meant to inform the guardian of the very issues that I intended to bring to the house chapter. Again, I believe in forthright and honest communication. I don’t want to play games.
20) Eugenio wrote “I ask you, my brother, doesn’t it seem that this way [to talk about all of these things in the house meeting] is better for the friars with whom you live daily?” If there were a genuine sense of “community” in this house that involved regular, honest and open conversation, then I would agree with this statement. My experience has taught me that this is not the case. Again, I would like to remind the guardian that NOTHING in my letter is new. It is the same old story that every friar in this house has heard before.
21) I did not tell the guardian in my short note of Sunday evening that I did not plan to attend the house chapter. It was definitely my intention to attend the meeting. I merely told him that I could not offer a prayer and reflection “because of personal reasons.” Many things have changed since January. I would think that he would be respectful of my inability to joyfully and prayerfully offer some type of reflection. Has he ever been in a moment where his conscience dictates that it would be hypocritical to “pray” and “reflect” when his heart is not there? This was my situation at the moment. How could I have known that this is where I would be, when plans were made in January? Would it not be hypocritical of me to offer prayers and reflections in this case? I apologize that I was not able to know this sooner, or that it might have inconvenienced the guardian, or the friars of the house, in any way.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
After I wrote out these rebuttal points, I went downstairs and met with Eugenio to share my thoughts with him. I apologized to him if my letter had appeared to be “threatening.” Regarding my rebuttal points, I did not show him what I had typed, nor did I discuss each and every detail of it, but I felt that I sufficiently covered the major points He admitted some errors in his letter, especially with regard to the financial points. He apologized for not being more careful with the facts. We both agreed that there was no need to send our respective letters to the superiors, and that my concerns would be addressed during the house chapter scheduled for that evening.
We had the house meeting at seven o’clock in the evening on Tuesday, June 27th. My feeling after the meeting was that it was pretty much a “lets all gang up on Timothy” experience. The only one who really did not have a bad word to say was Maury, and afterwards he even took me aside and offered some kind of sympathetic words–something like “don’t worry about it, everything will be okay.” I’m not sure precisely what he said because my head was still spinning after the meeting, but that was the gist of his words. The most brutal attack came from Juan Carlos who managed to bring up the Thomas Merrill letter from my Asunción days (there was time that I confided in him about such things). Juan Carlos suggested that I ought to leave the Franciscan Order because I am “unable to live in community.” He mentioned the event of June 17th (when I had gone to Eugenio to ask for a car, only moments after he had told me that he wasn’t sure, and would get back to me later), as an example of how I supposedly “always try to go over people’s heads.” Juan Carlos managed to criticize me for just about every aspect of my life within the community. Rolando spoke up and “dittoed” every thing Juan Carlos had said, but he made a few additional comments about how I don’t take my responsibility as a member of the Consejo seriously (the administrative council of friars that runs the school), and therefore show disrespect to the Custody and to the Colegio. Rolando even suggested that I might want to “live outside of the community with friends for the rest of the year.” Fernando seemed a bit softer in his attack, and tried to say things like “Timothy is a caring person and someone who hates no-one,” but he pretty much went along with Juan Carlos’s position. Fernando told me that I “embody the spirit of Gringo-ness, and don’t have any desire to adapt myself to Costa Rican culture and practices.” Eugenio seemed very surprisingly conciliatory. His criticisms were very mild–he mostly just offered a challenge to me to be more present for community prayers. Eugenio said “what a shame we just sold that car to Roberto [the “silver” car that Juan Carlos had previously used until getting a new one only a week or so earlier–this was the same car that I, for about a month, had for my use nearly a year earlier, before my rights to it were revoked by the July house chapter for which I was not present], we could have kept it and let you use it.” Eugenio suggested that Fray Victor ought to be consulted about the possibility of purchasing another car for the house (something I thought was unnecessary–given that there were almost always two cars sitting in the garage at any given moment).
That night, before going to bed, I was surprisingly at peace about the whole meeting. I guess I was past the point of caring. When I lost my temper and my composure with Fernando Saturday morning, June 24th, I think it was a water shed moment, a turning point. At that moment, I really lost the desire to care about it anymore. I think I reached the conclusion at that moment that nothing would ever change. After the house meeting, I was of the opinion that had brought it all to some type of closure because I had stated my case and had left a “paper trail” to prove it.
With all that had happened, I thought it was ironic that I was scheduled to be the presider at the friary Mass on Wednesday morning, June 28th. I had contemplated not going, but I decided that it was better for to be there. I thought that if was absent, I might have been feeding into the friars’ justification for their accusations against me. I had a feeling that no matter what, I was “damned if I did, and damned if I didn’t.” I decided that it was a good idea for me to remain as dignified as possible, given my perception of the way in which the other friars felt about me. The Gospel of the Mass was from the seventh chapter of Matthew. I almost choked on the words as I read the following: “Beware of false prophets who come to you disguised as sheep but underneath are ravenous wolves. You will be able to tell them by their fruits.” I was sure to read the words very slowly, and with as much emotion as I could command. I didn’t give a homily, but rather sat in silence for five minutes after reading the Gospel. It was my feeling that I was hoping the friars would have had the chance to reflect well on the Gospel (but I didn’t hold my breath expecting any “conversions”). I thought it ironic that I was scheduled to celebrate that Mass, and also ironic because that particular Gospel was for that day. It seemed to me that God sometimes speaks to us in mysterious, but not so subtle ways.
I don’t know if the events of later that Wednesday were directly related to the things that had happened, but during the school day I was summoned to the principal’s office. She seemed to suggest that it was “urgent” that I meet with her. She proceeded to review an evaluation she had made of me during her visit to my class sometime in April. The evaluation was extremely positive. She praised me for nearly every aspect of my classroom performance. She told me that my methodology was excellent, that the students responded to me nearly perfectly, and that I was an excellent teacher. After I signed her evaluation, she proceeded to tell me that there was a possibility that I would be asked to change my duties within the school and become a “tutor” for students in the fourth, fifth and sixth grades. She mentioned that a teacher who had been on sabbatical was asking to return, and that it would be possible for her to “take over” my responsibilities with the second grade. She told me that she would prefer that I continue for the rest of the school year working with the second grade, but that a change of my responsibilities had been “talked about” as a possibility. I told her that I would be willing to switch to another role within the school, but that it would be difficult to end my work with the second grade half way through the school year. She seemed to indicate that it was her preference that I indeed continue teaching the second graders until the end of the school year, and that, if I would be returning in the next academic year, I might be able to take on the other role. I thought that our discussion was frank and positive.
When I returned to the friary in the afternoon on that Wednesday, I was approached by Rolando who asked me if the school principal had talked to me. He indicated that the change in roles was an immediate possibility. I summarized for him the conversation that I had with the principal, and I told him that if it is necessary, I would be willing to make the change if it would be required of me to do so. Upon further reflection, however, I had the sense that the stage had been set to “fire me” from the responsibility of teaching the second grade. I wondered if this had anything to do with the events that had transpired in the preceding days. This was my question as I went to bed on Wednesday evening.
On Thursday morning, the teacher who had been on sabbatical happened to be visiting the school, and so I approached her and asked her if we could talk for a few minutes. I knew her well, as we both taught the fourth grade the previous year and had always had a very positive rapport. I asked her what her intentions were, and she told me that her preference was to extend her sabbatical until the end of that school year, and that she would think it would be difficult and “a bad idea” to place a new teacher with the second grade halfway through the year (i.e., if she would replace me). We both agreed that the best interests of the children were of paramount importance. I felt as if our conversation was frank and friendly. She also mentioned that she had no urgent “need” for the job because she was in a comfortable financial situation at that moment. I had hoped that by talking to her I might be able to put her at ease about possibly being “put in the middle of things,” if indeed that was the case. I told her that if I would be required to give up the classes, that I would try to be as accommodating as possible in order to assure as smooth a transition as possible. I even suggested that we could teach the class together for a few weeks, if that would be possible. She repeatedly told me that she wanted “to wait until next year” to go back to full time teaching in the school, and that she intended to express this in a letter addressed to Fray Rolando and the Consejo.
Later in the day I was again summoned to the principal’s office and when I arrived both the principal and the teacher were waiting for me. The principal again reiterated her sentiment that I stay with the second grade until the end of the school year. The teacher again stated her position that she wanted to continue her sabbatical until the next year. It was a very friendly conversation, and we all seemed to be in agreement that the best thing for the students was that things continue as they were (i.e., I would stay with the second grade until the end of the school year).
I was fortunate to have the email “ear” of some trusted friar-friends in the States during this experience. Although I did not intend to “air dirty laundry” with people “on the outside,” I had to confide with some of my friends about the “hell I was going through,” as I described it to them. They were most sympathetic to my situation. I received some very encouraging words from them, and some not so subtle criticisms about various friars I had mentioned in my notes. It was very affirming to have their support and genuine “fraternal” concern. Although they had only heard “my side of the story,” it was interesting that their responses to me were nearly exactly on the same wavelength. There was a common criticism of the friars of my house and how they had treated me. It was even suggested that the friars’ behavior had been “pathological” and had “displayed symptoms of very sick people.” Another common thread was the sense that Rolando might have be attempting some kind of “power play” while Frays Victor and Jorge were out of the country. They would not be returning for a few more days, and “a done deal is a done deal” was the suspicion. On this note, one of my friends wrote “Then [the friars] can continue to lie and say it was your decision [to leave].” My friends also suggested that the school principal may have been a kind of unwilling “pawn” in Rolando’s presumed strategy. One friend wrote “someone else is pulling the principals strings.” Another wrote “Do you have a photocopy of your SIGNED evaluation from her? If not, GET ONE ON FRIDAY–insist on it. I am sure she'll understand. You're ‘good’ evaluation just might ‘disappear’–be sure you have a copy!” Rolando did seem to be the driving force behind my possible removal as the second grade teacher. One of my friends summed it up this way: “It seems to me that you are the victim once again of the Costa Rican cultural phenomenon of doing things or making decisions behind people's back.”
On Friday, June 30, the last day before the school vacation (which would last until August 3rd), I made a point to visit the school principal early in the morning in order to ask her for a copy of the evaluation that she had made of me. She was most gracious about it, and gave it to me immediately. I asked her to sign the copy, and she did so with pleasure. I had told her that I wanted a copy “for the record” and “to send to my Provincial if it would ever be necessary.” When I mentioned the Provincial, she made an “off the cuff” comment about how she should “write to him in order to request that I be able to stay for another year.” I found the comment interesting, but did not pursue it. Later in the day, I went back to see the principal concerning an unrelated and minor matter, but I took advantage of the opportunity to casually question her about any follow up to our previous day’s discussion with the teacher on sabbatical. She told me that the teacher had written a letter to Rolando, and had given her a copy just ten minutes earlier. She asked me if I would like to review it, and I said yes, thanking her for her confidence. In the letter, the teacher clearly stated that she was requesting to continue her sabbatical until February 1, 2001. It was a short letter and very much to the point: she did not want to have to start teaching in the immediate future. She mentioned some personal reasons for her request, and seemed to indicate that it would be very inconvenient for her to return to the school any time soon. Even though the teacher had told me the previous day nearly the exact same thing, I was happy to see the letter “in black and white.” I was also happy that the principal had so freely shared it with me. As I thanked her and turned around to leave her office, she said “I am very happy to have you here, and consider you to be a good colleague. I hope that all of us can work together as a team.” Even though I think I already knew her sentiments, it was nice to hear those words from her.
Because it was the last day before a month long vacation, there were no real classes on that Friday. When I arrived at my first “class” of the day, my students informed me that they had a “surprise” for me. They proceeded to stand up at their desks and they recited a short poem entitled “My Friend” that had been taught to them by Xinia, Delphin’s wife. She had substituted for me for the last two lessons the day before, as I was unable to be in the class because of a previously scheduled conflict. I was really touched by the affectionate manner in which the children recited the poem. It read as follows: “My friend is nice. We like to play. We play together every day. We laugh and cry and laugh again. Because you see, we’re friends, friends, friends!” Of course, those children couldn’t have really known how much that moment meant to me. I was grateful to Xinia for preparing the poem with them. It made me wonder what she might have heard “whispered behind my back,” and if it might have been some attempt on her part to soothe my possibly anguished heart. I really didn’t know the answer to my pondering, and certainly didn’t want to question her about it, but I did make sure to thank her for teaching the children the poem when I saw her later in the day. When I spoke to her she said “You know Fray, those children really love you . . . and their English is so good! You really are doing a wonderful job.” It was great to have that affirmation. Xinia and Delphin also went out of their way to give me their phone number, and they told me to give them a call sometime during the vacation if I would so desire. Again, I wondered.
On Friday June 30 at 2:30 PM, I went to see Don Carlos Beremejo. He is the “General Administrator” of Saint Francis, and is the only lay person to sit on the Consejo (albeit without a “vote” –even though I technically have a “vote,” it really means nothing). I asked him if we could chat for a few minutes, and he warmly welcomed me into his office. I proceeded to summarize the events of the past few days, as they pertained to my knowledge of whether or not Xinia Alpizar (the teacher on sabbatical) would or would not be returning to the school in August. I “played dumb” as far as any of my suspicions about Rolando’s intentions were concerned. I told him simply that I wanted to know his perception of whether or not she might be returning, and whether or not I might be asked to become a “tutor.” It was our first conversation on the matter. Without giving him any kind of time line, I told him that I had spoken to Xinia, and that she had made it clear to me that she wanted to continue her sabbatical until February 1, 2001. I told him that we had both agreed that it might be harmful to the educational process of the students if they would have to unnecessarily change English teachers mid way through the school year. I also mentioned that it would be my preference to continue with the second grade until the end of the year. I told Don Carlos that it was the understanding of both Xinia and I that Doña Rosaro was also in agreement with these sentiments. I also mentioned to him that Xinia had told me that she would be putting her request to continue the sabbatical in a letter addressed to the Consejo (I didn’t mention the fact that I had already seen a copy of the letter). He seemed surprised to hear that Xinia would want to continue the sabbatical. He told me that Rolando had told him on Thursday that Xinia “probably” would want to return. Of course that contradicted the very conversation I had with both Xinia and Doña Rosario on the very same day of Rolando’s assertion. My entire conversation with Don Carlos affirmed my suspicion that Rolando was completely in control of the manipulation of the situation and the people involved. Although my talk with Don Carlos was friendly, I was very careful not to make any statements that somehow “would come back to haunt me.” I guess some would try to characterize my meeting with him as my own “counter-manipulation” of the situation. I think it was simply a guarded effort on my part to facilitate a conveyance of the truth. After meeting with Don Carlos, I looked forward to the following Monday when the Consejo was scheduled to have it next meeting. I definitely planned to be present for it.
I was sitting in my room after I returned from school on Friday, June 30th, and Eugenio suddenly appeared at the door and handed me a set of car keys. He told me that because Fernando was away for a few days, that I would be able to use “his” car whenever I pleased. He said a couple of times “you know, if you just want to go out or something, the car is at your disposal.” There was a part of me that just wanted to say “no thank you, I don’t want to use your cars,” but the thought of walking in the rain from Mass again, caused me to throw principal “out the window.” I wondered what motivated Eugenio’s change in demeanor regarding my “car privileges” or the lack thereof (however temporary the situation was). The thought that crossed my mind was “perhaps the lamb was being fattened for the slaughter.”
I used the car during the weekend to go to the sister’s convent for Mass on Saturday morning, to the parish in Escazu for the English Mass on Saturday afternoon at 4:00 PM, and then on Sunday morning for the Mass in Barrio Virgina at 7:30 AM. I did not use the car again after that, nor did I use it for “personal reasons or to go out” during the weekend. On Sunday afternoon, I got together with a friend and we went to a restaurant for lunch, but my friend drove her car.
For the most part, the meeting of the Consejo on Monday, July 3rd was long and boring. The letter of Xina Alpizar (the teacher on sabbatical) was the seventh of thirteen items on the agenda. When it was time, Don Carlos read the letter, and a very brief discussion of it followed. The letter was pretty straightforward and to the point. I don’t think anyone wanted to argue the point “to force her to come back” to the school anytime soon. It was clear that her intentions were to return in the next school year, and not during the current one. The only question raised was about the legal consequences of her sabbatical regarding her status within the Costa Rican “pension” system (something like Social Security). No mention was made of me, or any possible change of my roles in the school. Xinia’s request to continue her sabbatical was unanimously approved.
With regard to what I had perceived to be the fizzling of Rolando’s scheme, I wrote the following:
A cheap candle.
Fizzle.
Flame expiring early
wick drowning
fire hissing
wax conquering.
Former prey
now victorious.
Death.
Disgrace.
Humiliation.
I don’t know why I decided to get poetic all of the sudden, but I thought my poem expressed my sentiment after the meeting, and my take on Rolando’s unsuccessful ploy.
Eugenio appeared at my door again on Friday, July 7th, and handed me a set of car keys for use during the weekend. I found it interesting that the same scenario had occurred the previous Friday. It was curious to me.
During the weekend I gave a lot of thought to my car “privileges,” or lack thereof, and I decided that I would never again “ask” to use a friary car at Saint Francis. My thought was that if a car would be made available to me, then I would use it (such as the two times Eugenio appeared at my door and gave me sets of keys), but I would no longer humiliate myself by getting down on my proverbial knees to “grovel” in the face of the other friars. I felt like enough had been enough. I decided that I would rather walk ten miles (how many kilometers is that?), than degrade myself and my dignity in order to submit to what seemed like a great injustice (an injustice that seemed directly related to the fact that I was a foreigner in their house). I decided that it was better just to walk, take a taxi, or use the bus. I resolved that never again would anyone hear me say “can I use the car?” I really had no problem walking or using public transportation. The type of transportation was not the real issue for me, but rather it was one of a question of the equality and respect not afforded to me as a solemnly professed friar within the community.
As I reflected on this a bit more during the weekend, I again began to contemplate the possibility of simply leaving Costa Rica altogether. I felt tired, and didn’t want to deal with the issue any more. I tentatively came up with the date of August 18th as a possible departure date.
I decided that I wanted to stay until mid-August, because it would have given me a chance to finish the trimester with the students, and would have also given me some time to say goodbye to them and to the faculty. As I contemplated this possible departure date, I wondered if it would give Rolando a sense of victory, but at that point, I really didn’t care anymore. I also wondered how I would have been able to present the request for permission to transfer to my Provincial. What would I say? What would I tell him were my reasons for wanting to go home?
The only thing that had been keeping me from wanting to leave, was the work that I did in the school. By July 8th and 9th, we had been on vacation from school for over a week, and by then, I may have been separated somewhat from the emotional pull of the school.
I was scheduled to meet with Fray Jorge Dobles on Monday, July 10th. We had planned a few days earlier to get together on that day. On Sunday, he had called to confirm our get together, but I wasn’t in the house when he called. I don’t know who took the phone call, but he had posted a note about it in a prominent place in the kitchen. It was there for all to see for many hours before I discovered it. I imagined that the friars who read the note supposed that I was planning to “run to Jorge to complain again.” I did plan to present some thoughts to him about recent events, in the hope of getting some feedback from him, but I was unsure how much I would say. I felt that I needed to share with him my feeling about wanting to leave Costa Rica, and I thought I would have to somehow justify my feelings. In spite of what some of the friars might have believed, I only wanted to talk to him as a friend and confidant. I trusted his advice and felt that he could be objective.
My meeting with Jorge was interesting. I decided that I had no reason not to tell him everything that had happened. Jorge seemed to be very disturbed by what I told him. He apologized to me for his part in inviting me here in the first place, and setting me up in the Saint Francis friary, but I told him he had no need to apologize. I asked him not to make a big deal of it, and to be “diplomatic” if he would want to pursue anything, as he said he felt compelled to do. Jorge told me that I had basically three options to consider. The first was to live in the house and “deal” with it as best as possible, the second was to move to the Alajuela friary and commute to Saint Francis for the rest of the school year, and the third was to go back to the USA promptly. We had a good get together, and it ended on a very friendly and positive note. As we parted, I told him that I would keep him “posted” about things.
As I reflected on the options that Jorge had laid out, I could not peacefully come to any conclusion. I was not at all crazy about packing up my stuff and moving to Alajuela, only to live there for four months. Jorge had assured me cars in Alajuela would not be a problem, but I did not like the thought of having to commute everyday. I didn’t like the Alajuela option. I thought about whether it would truly be difficult for me to live at Saint Francis until the following December, as had been the plan from the start. I wondered if I could just stay there and “put up with it.” I thought, “I’ve survived this long; what’s a few more months?” And then there was the option of just going home, which was not something in my heart of hearts that I really wanted to do--I kept thinking about how much I really did enjoy working in the school, and how I didn’t want to “walk away from my responsibility” to finish the school year. I decided that if came down to a choice between moving to Alajuela, or getting on the first plane, then I would chose the second choice. I wished that I could have just “fast forwarded” the clock to December and been over with it immediately.
I was very busy during the week of July 10th, as I had to do a lot of paper work and running around in order to get my visa renewed. It had expired at midnight on Tuesday, July 11th, and I didn’t want to have to leave the country again in order to renew it. I had to go back and forth into San José quite a few times that week in order to see a lawyer, go to the chancery office and to the offices of migración. I had to visit each of these various places on more than one occasion, and on different days. I was also getting assistance from a local parishioner, named Lucia, who works at migración. I had to go to her house on at least two different evenings, so that she could review all of the papers for me. Of course, I didn’t have the use of a car for all of these things, so I had to walk, taxi and/or take the bus which ate up a lot of time. The last time I went Lucia’s house, I walked again. Lucia didn’t live far away–in Barrio Virginia, which was about fifteen minutes away from the friary, on foot–too close to take a taxi, and no busses went that way. She was surprised that I had walked, and insisted on getting a neighbor to drive me home because, as she said, “it is too dangerous and there are many hooligans who might harm you and rob you.” I was happy to have a ride home, thanks to the neighbor, but I really felt like I had inconvenienced them.
Eugenio did not offer me use of a car during the weekend of July 14th. I was not going to ask for one. I was determined not to compromise my dignity as a “member” of the community by having to grovel and plead once again.
On Saturday, July 15th, I had the Mass with the sisters at 7:30 AM. Every friar in the house knew that on Saturdays I was scheduled to celebrate the Mass with the sisters. In keeping with my vow not to grovel, I did not “ask” anyone for a car. I made sure that I was “visible” as I prepared to depart for the Mass. I even used the phone in the kitchen, while the other friars were present, and called the sisters. I told them, loud enough for the others to hear “I’m walking over there today, so I might be late.” The friars probably weren’t even listening. As I walked out the front door, four of the friary cars were sitting in front of the house. They apparently had no where to go. And so I walked the half hour distance from the friary to the sister’s convent. Fortunately, it was beautiful day, and I actually enjoyed the walk. When I arrived for the Mass, the sisters were surprised to hear that I had walked. I told them it had been no problem, because it wasn’t that far of a distance, and it was a beautiful day.
The Gospel for that Mass was from Matthew 10:24-33. In the Gospel Jesus says, “Do not be afraid of them . . . for everything that is now covered will be uncovered, and everything now hidden will be made clear. . . . Do not be afraid of those who kill the body but cannot kill the soul.” I enjoyed reading this reading, and used it to reflect on my own situation. It gave me inspiration for my homily that I shared with the sisters, but of course they had no idea about the premise of my perspective. I began my homily by using word from the first reading in which Isaiah the prophet says to the Lord, “here I am send me.” I said that this is the basic response that all of us as Christians and religious have made to the call of God in our lives. We have all said “here I am Lord, send me,” and that is why we are followers of Jesus, and professed religious. We have been enthusiastic about serving the Lord with our lives, and hope that we will continue to be so. But then I mentioned that the Gospel warns us that there will be those who will try to destroy us. They will malign us, insult us, and perhaps even try to kill our spirits. But Jesus tells us that we need not be afraid of them, because they can damage only that which is material. They have no power over the soul and over our relationship with God. Then I mentioned that we must beware that those who might try to use bad power over us might even call themselves Christians, or they might even be members of our own religious communities. There are injustices in the world, and sometimes these injustices are committed by the very people who publicly claim to be doing the will of God. I mentioned that we only need to look to those places in the world where the name of God is invoked to justify war, hatred, racism, etc. I said that we might want to examine the Gospel, and ask ourselves if we have been one of those (as an individual or as a member of a community) to perpetrate any kind of injustice or sin against others, all the while justifying our behavior with religious words. If so, I said, we have an opportunity to turn away from our sin and make attempts to rectify whatever injustice we might have aided or perpetrated. As I spoke (in my broken Spanish) I noticed that many of the sisters were nodding their heads in agreement with my words. I had the sense that I had hit upon some “raw nerves,” or at least a concept to which many of them could relate. I was glad that I was able to say what I said, and that current events in my life have given me this fresh perspective on things. Of course, I never mentioned my own specific struggles with in my own friary–I don’t think that would have served any positive end. I found it interesting that in the prayer of the faithful, which I usually “opened to the floor,” many of the sisters offered prayers with themes of “justice” and about working to change situations that are evil. It was apparent to me that whatever I said in my homily had given them food for thought. My reflection on those readings, and the Mass in general that day, was a “cleansing” experience for me.
When I was departing the convent, one of the sisters chased after me, and she asked me if I wanted her to drive me home (this was a cloistered convent). She seemed bothered that I would have to walk or take a taxi. I told her that it really was not a problem for me to walk. It was a beautiful day, and I really had enjoyed the walk earlier in the morning (really!). I told her that “I have two feet and am healthy enough to walk, and it really is not a problem for me. . . and it’s a beautiful day.” She seemed satisfied with my reasons for declining her offer. I was touched that she was so concerned, and couldn’t help but to see the contrast between her genuine interest in my well being/comfort/needs, and the complete opposite attitude of those with whom I lived.
But then I went back to the house, and what I felt was a cloud of oppression overwhelming the place, immediately descended upon me. I hated being there. I wanted to go home to the USA. As I returned to my room, I remembered my words at the Mass earlier that day. I thought that perhaps those friars had really stolen both my material security, as well as my soul. I contemplated the possibility that I had, in a sense, sold my soul to them because I had not more aggressively stood up to the injustices that they continued to perpetrate. I had no peace in that place and wanted to get out of there. Once again, I had the thought that I would wait until the school was back in session, and then I would resign. That way, I would have had the chance to “say goodbye” to my students and to so many wonderful people who were on the faculty.
Shortly after I returned from the sister’s Mass, I sat down and wrote an email to a very dear friend at home, and I explained my feelings of that day (and my thoughts inspired by my visit with the sisters that day). He was one of those who had earlier been very supportive of me as I shared my struggles. I got an almost immediate response from him. He wrote:
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
Subject: COME HOME!
Date: Sat, 15 Jul 2000 18:01:29 EDT
Dear Timothy:
Come home. Why are you torturing yourself? I cannot promise you that you will be assigned to a friary that is more receptive or sensitive to your spirit, but your emotional, physical, and mental support systems will be much closer. If not a hug away, at least a phone call away. Your words scared me, specifically: 'But then I came back to the house, and the cloud of oppression overwhelming this place, immediately descended upon me. I hate being here." THERE IS NO NEED FOR YOU TO BE OPPRESSED. NO GOD OR GOOD IS SERVED BY YOUR BEING OPPRESSED! Your thinking is clouded, but understandable when you write: "Maybe I’ve sold my soul to them because I have not more aggressively stood up to the injustices that they continue to perpetrate." I do not believe that you have sold your soul, but I understand why you are thinking such. Your current friary life is not healthy., and it affects your thinking. You see only the darkness because that is what is there among most of those you live with.
The scripture readings and your homily of today with the sisters, are from God. He is speaking directly to you, and giving you the opportunity to reflect as you have because he hears the cry of the poor. The sister who offered you a ride was Simon of Cyrean. She can only do so much, and she tried to help you with your cross. I agree with the part of your homily where you said: "we must beware that those who might try to use bad power over us might even call themselves Christians, or they might even be members of our own religious communities. There are injustices in the world, and sometimes these injustices are committed by the very people who publicly claim to be doing the will of God. " You are living with such people. We have them here in the US as well, and I cannot promise you that you will not wind up living with some of them again. But you will not have the language impediment to speak the Gospel values to them.
It is your decision to make, you know that, and I know that. But you have been saying you want to come home ever since the drama of the Eugenio letter, chapter meeting, and Rolando's ill fated coup against you. The establishments (both Hebrew and Roman) crucified Jesus. Why should you not be? But I say to you, as Christian as it is to follow in the footsteps of Jesus all the way to the Cross; YOUR time has not yet come. And these infidels are not the ones to do the job. Their plots are not sacred to God's plan for you.
I realize that I am being verbose in my response, but I want you to leave the shadow of the cloud and see the light of God. Perhaps you are meant to preach (and be crucified) in another country the US. Just as Peter faced his crucifixion in Rome, and not Jerusalem.
Now, please do not misunderstand me. I am not wanting you to be killed or persecuted in any form., I simply use these references to convey that it is time to move on. You have done your best, and have been told so in many ways. I know that leaving [people with whom you have formed bonds] will be difficult, and saying good bye to the children will rip your heart out, but there is a bigger picture. [Your friends], and the children do not see all of it. Only YOU live it.
Also, I must tell you that I have a prejudice of wanting you closer, so my advice may not be objective. But my concern is for your well being. That is my purest motive, but selfishly, I want you closer. So, you may have to sift this advice.
I wish you peace, that comes from being at ease with one's desires. You are a wonderful person and you need not be stifled from your Christian values because of stupid and ill used power plays. Don't let the bastards get you down.
With all of my love,
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
I decided that I had to give serious reflection to my friends suggestion.
On Sunday, July 16th I celebrated two Masses in the Llorente parish. The first was in the small chapel of San Juan Bosco in Barrio Virginia at 7:30 AM. The second was in the main parish church at 4:00 PM. Of course, I walked back and forth from the friary to both the chapel and the church. The Gospel of the Mass on that Sunday was from the sixth chapter of Matthew. The following words from the Gospel spoke very loudly to me: “And if any place does not welcome you, and people refuse to listen to you, as you walk away shake of the dust from under your feet as a sign to them.” I thought these words were surely some kind of a sign from God.
I must seriously contemplate leaving Costa Rica sometime in mid August.
