In my last post, I said that I was in Chile over Christmas break for a religious, vocational pilgrimage with other ACErs. Whelp, here’s that story.
After spending Christmas with my family, I flew to Houston and from there, to Santiago, Chile on December 26. There were other ACErs on the plane, but I have no idea where they were sitting. We actually had a group chat going because our friend, Justin, was late coming in because of his connecting flight, and by the time he reached the gate, we had already left. So we were all pretty bummed that he would have to meet us a day later. Our other friend, Mary, who was connecting from Atlanta also missed her flight, so that meant two of our number would be arriving after us. At this time, we thought this was the worst of it all. Just wait and see.
When the rest of us landed in Chile, we had to go through customs and we were in line for a good hour, but we made it through. Since Chile is in the southern hemisphere, it was summertime, so I had to take off my sweater because it was so freakin’ hot.
Across the street from the airport was the Holiday Inn that we were all supposed to meet at to freshen up before hopping on the charter bus to go to our first destination. I’d say there were about 40 people all together on this trip, including the pastoral staff, the priests, and the sister. So we all hop on this bus and drive about an hour and a half toward the coast toward our retreat center. But we stop at this place for lunch/Mass. We’re a Catholic group, so naturally, we’re going to Mass everyday on this trip. The chapel we’re going to Mass at is about half a mile up the road from the restaurant, and because a group of cloistered Franciscan monks run the place, there’s no where to park the bus. So, we hop off the bus, wave at the restaurant people preparing our lunch, and journey up the hilly road to the chapel.
The chapel we go to is beautiful. It’s called the Franciscan Oratory Chapel, and this is in the little town called El Totoral. The seats are in a circle around the altar, and the crucifix on top has a sort of optical illusion. From far away, Christ’s eyes are closed, but as you get closer to receive communion, it looks like His eyes are open as you receive communion. A beautiful metaphor. As we get ready for Mass, Fr. Scully (the founder of ACE, and a very important character in this story) introduces us to one of the Franciscans, who only knows Spanish. Fr. Scully translates for us as the Franciscan tells us the story of the chapel before Mass.
After Mass, we make our way back to the restaurant. The whole time we were there, every meal was served with a side of shredded lettuce and a few slices of tomato. And that was it. That was their “salad”, I guess. But let me tell you, that was some of the tastiest shredded lettuce I’ve ever had, I couldn’t stop eating it. It’s especially delicious with balsamic vinaigrette. There were also these drinks called pisco sours, which is an alcoholic beverage of some sort. It was okay, but I opted for water because I was so dang thirsty the entire time I was there. Matt, who is ACE with me and works for them now, says that every time he goes to Chile, he’s always dehydrated, like he can’t get enough water. So I wasn’t the only one.
So we’re eating these meat-filled pastries, shredded lettuce, and pisco sours, when Fr. Scully comes us to us. He says, “Okay, so don’t panic.” We all thought that maybe something went wrong with lunch or something. Then he says, “I guess our bus driver was in here eating lunch, so he left the bus. Someone broke in and...everything is gone.” Silence. “Well, not everything, there are some bags left. So we’re all going to go to the bus and gather whatever items we have left and go from there. We’ve called the police.”
I’m internally panicking. I left my cat backpack (which was my purse) on the bus because I figured it would be safe, since the bus driver was going to stay. I almost took it with me, but my friend Patrick said it would be better to leave it, since we’d have to hike up the hill in the hot sun. I didn’t care about my luggage, I was panicking because even though everyone’s luggage was stored in the compartment below the bus, my computer bag (computer, students’ grades, passport) and my cat backup (license, credit/debit card, cash, important things) was in my seat. Those are the important things they would get first.
We rush outside and we see that the panels from the bottom part of the bus are open and ALL the luggage is GONE. The only thing left is the luggage with the Mass kit inside, and that’s because we took it to Mass. We get on the bus and there’s broken glass on the floor from the driver’s side window and there’s blood. Someone punched through the window to get in. Patrick and I go to our seats, but not before our friends who were sitting in the aisle across from us get there first and all their belongings are gone. Luke only had a backpack that had everything and Mary Grace had a backpack too. It was all gone. A few of us, including Fr. Lou, had passports stolen. Patrick and I went to our seats to see that my purse-backpack, my computer bag, and his computer bag
We looked at each other and then rummaged through our stuff. He still had his computer. I still had my computer. He had his passport. I had my passport. Our licenses, keys (for me), debit/credit cards, wallets WERE STILL IN OUR SEATS. We could not believe it! I figured that since my purse looked more like a child’s backpack, the thieves probably left it. Our computer bags were under our seats, but you could still easily see them. They left those too. We hugged our belongings and got off the bus to join our friends who were not as fortunate.
Mind you, we had been in the country for about FOUR HOURS so far, all this excitement had already happened. The Chilean police arrived, which we knew was expected. But then Fr. Scully (remember him? I said he was an important character in this story) said that he called his friend Ignacio Walker, who was scheduled for the first talk of the pilgrimage that night and told him what happened. Ignacio said he would take care of it. BTW, Ignacio was a former student of Fr. Scully’s when Fr. Scully taught at the Holy Cross school in Santiago. Ignacio also happens to be a SENIOR SENATOR and PRESIDENTIAL CANDIDATE for the country. So minutes later, guess who shows up? THE FBI. Granted, they would need to show up because American passports were stolen, but the fact that the FBI showed up in minutes because Fr. Scully knew a guy...of course he does. Oh, and we were stranded at the restaurant for a couple of hours because the FBI seized the bus because it was now a crime scene.
Later, Fr. David, who is a Holy Cross priest (sorry, forgot to mention that all the priests we met with were Holy Cross because Notre Dame is a Holy Cross school) serving in Chile joins us at the restaurant. He drove from the retreat center to us after he heard what happened. He tells us that we will all have to go back to Santiago and stay the night there because that’s where the Embassy is. He says that the people whose passports were stolen will have to go to the Embassy and get temporary ones with the right visa to get them out of the country at the end of the trip. “It should be okay for them, though,” he says. “One of the parishioners at the church I serve is head of the FBI here, so he will make sure to get the process expedited for them.” Of course there’s a guy. The ones with passports stolen leave in Fr. Scully’s car (he drove separately and was in Chile a few days before we landed, so all of his stuff was safe at the retreat center) to head back to the city before the Embassy closes.
Hours later, we get new transportation to take us an hour and a half back to Santiago. Will, one of the ACErs who worked at my school before working for ACE, is frantically trying to explain to the front desk at the Holiday Inn how many rooms we need and why. Everyone in the lobby is staring at the this large group of Americans with no luggage, but holding onto the little belongings we have as if someone was going to steal it (we know what that looks like from experience). Our friends who were at the Embassy come back, saying that they’ll pick up the new passports in the morning. They had done a little bit of shopping because no one has clean clothes, and literally only have the clothes on their back. They come back with toothbrushes, toothpaste, shirts, men’s boxers, razors, shampoos, and conditioners. Everyone gets a little bit of everything and we head off to our hotel rooms for the night. Some of us go to the eating area to get some food. I was fortunate enough to still have my computer, so I message my parents and my principal to tell them what happened, and that no one was hurt.
So this was day one of Chile. We all talked and reflected and shared theories with each other while waiting at the restaurant. Sr. Julie helped us talk through everything, and here are the thoughts that I remember from her about this experience:
“What are we not seeing? Like, we’re not seeing the desperation that some people have that lead them to do something like this.”
“What is the one sentimental thing that you miss that was stolen?”
“Justin and Mary really won the lottery on this trip.”
Yeah, remember my two friends who missed their connecting flight? When they finally got to us, they still had their stuff XD
More on this trip in future posts.
