The Summer, part 2: Joy Everywhere!

After descending from 19,000 feet (and taking a little time to recover as well!), it was time for the greatest adventure of our summer to begin, this time, in a little town called Ushetu. Upon flying into the town of Mwanza, we were met by Fr. Diego Cano, an Argentinian priest from the Institute of the Incarnate Word, a missionary order dedicated to spreading the Gospel in any place they are called to live! We were given Father Diego's contact information through some alumni of the North American College, who had spent time in Ushetu during their first summer abroad. Father graciously offered to host us in his parish, Our Lady of Lourdes, in a poor, rural farming community called Ushetu. As we hopped in Father's sturdy Toyota LandCruiser, we didn't really know what the next 6 weeks would bring, but we were so excited for everything the Lord had in store for us!

Over three months have now passed since our arrival among the beautiful people of Ushetu, and my classmates and I are still overwhelmed by the graces which we received during those weeks. Fortunately, Father Diego asked each of us to write a small reflection upon our experience, for publication on his order's website. In the interest of time, I would like to re-post that article here, so that you can hopefully gain a glimpse into the joyful life of Ushetu. And, since pictures describe these things so much better than words, I've included a few of those as well. I hope you enjoy!

              ...When I told family and friends that I would be spending my first summer of theological studies in a rural parish in Tanzania, I was surprised by the words of wisdom given to me by those who had themselves spent time among the people of Africa. My grandmother, who worked many years as a nurse in Zambia, just to the south of Tanzania, summed it up by telling me that, “Once you have the dust of Africa on your shoes, you can never really shake it off.” I know that, for the three of us seminarians who were blessed to live, work, and pray among the people of Ushetu, this saying could not ring more true! Indeed, even as we drove away from the beautiful parish in early August, our sad thoughts of departure were mixed with our conversations about when we would return. Not if we would return, but when. In those six short, but grace-filled weeks, we were blessed to receive so much from Our Lord through Fr. Diego, the Sisters, and the people of Ushetu, and it seems only fitting that we would someday return, God-willing as priests, to thank them all for all they have done for us! The summer has left me with so many precious memories that are hard to put into words, but in this brief reflection, I would like to simply give thanks for three particular ways in which Ushetu has influenced my formation and truly changed my life.

            The first grace I will share from Ushetu was also the first one we encountered upon our arrival, and is probably be the one I will cherish the most, namely, the people! From day one, the people of Ushetu welcomed us American strangers into their home, regardless of our lack of knowledge about their culture and our complete inability to communicate beyond the Swahili greeting “Tumsifu Yesu Kristu…milele Amina!” (“Let us praise Jesus Christ…forever Amen”) For these wonderful people, it didn’t matter that their guests had no idea what they were doing. All that mattered for them was to make us feel at home, and they did this in so many ways. Whether it was the nightly soccer games with the altar boys, the songs and dances with the Watoto wa Yesu girls, the daily conversations with the parish’s faithful workers, or the many invitations we received to visit families in their homes, the people of Ushetu welcomed us into every aspect of their lives. They truly shared with us everything they had: not only their food and drink, but also their prayers, joy, and smiles. How grateful we are for those beautiful friendships!

Patrick Dorelus and I with our first grade class at the school!

            Secondly, my summer in Ushetu showed me what a beautiful thing it is when a parish is centered on Christ. Whether we were among the daily Mass-goers at the main center, or in the outstations which might receive only one Mass a year, I was constantly inspired by how much those people love Our Lord! Naturally, this life of devotion began with Fr. Diego and the Sisters, who always made Christ the center of their day. For us in the rectory, this life of prayer began most days at 5:30 am, when we would spend an hour with Fr. Diego before the Blessed Sacrament. It wasn’t always an easy wake-up call, but Father constantly encouraged us by telling us that our time with the Lord fuels us for the work of the day, and how right he was! For the lay faithful, too, it was clear that Christ was always the most important part of their lives. We were struck every day by the strong presence of men, women and children at daily Mass, some of them walking great distances in the early hours of the morning to be with Our Lord. In the outstations, too, we saw how a single Mass can truly bring a community together, as Fr. Diego’s arrival always seemed to bring joy to everyone in the village. While Ushetu’s harvest is certainly abundant, and its laborers few, the Lord showed me this summer that if He is at the center of our lives, He will do “immeasurable more than we can ask or imagine.” He is certainly working marvels among the people of Ushetu.

Vince Fernandez and I handing out catechisms and Rosaries after a Confirmation Mass

            It was in the midst of the people and their Christ-centered life that I have received another grace for which I will always be thankful. This has been the strengthening of my own vocation. I can say quite honestly that, as a seminarian, there is nothing more refreshing or inspiring than to encounter the priesthood as it truly is, and Ushetu allowed us to have this encounter every day, especially through Fr. Diego. Despite the size of his flock and the numerous things demanding his attention, Father dedicated himself wholeheartedly to Our Lord and to his people, never speaking of the work as a burden, but always a joy! And although he could always have spent more time performing this or that task, he constantly reminded us of the importance of prayer, rest, and fraternity, all of which allowed him to work even more fervently. Essentially, Fr. Diego showed us what it means to be a missionary priest. And, even though I hope to one day serve close to home among the people of my own diocese, I too hope to be a missionary priest, by working tirelessly and joyfully for my people, while always remaining anchored in the Lord. I can only give thanks to God that, through working closely with Fr. Diego, my classmates and I received this beautiful glimpse into priestly life – and what a life it is!

Vince and I with Father Diego, IVE and the 5 IVE Sisters of Ushetu

Our little rectory community: Father Diego, Patrick, Vince, and myself

As my grandmother said so wisely, the dust of Africa will never leave my shoes, just as I know that no memory from those six weeks in Ushetu will ever leave my heart! It has certainly been difficult to now be so far from that beautiful place, but, as Fr. Diego said to the parish before our departure, if we carry each other in our prayers, we are never too far away. And who knows? Perhaps the Lord will bring us back soon to the beautiful kingdom of Ushetu! Tumsifu Yesu Kristu…milele Amina!

In Christ,
Colin Jones

Teaching English in the parish school!

A Confirmation Mass in Ushetu with the local bishop of Kahama, Ludovick Joseph Minde 

The interior of the church!

Snack time at the school

The "Watoto wa Yesu," the girls' group which sings and dances at Mass

Little James and I!

Father performing baptisms; there were over 90 that day!

Vince taught his kids some English songs and dances

Saying goodbye at the end of a school day

The Summer, part 1: Verso L'alto

Friends in Christ,

I might as well cut right to the chase: Over the past couple of months I was blessed to have the best summer of my life! As you may know, the North American College asks its first year theologians to spend their summer between first and second years away from home. Obviously, this didn't exactly seem like a fun idea at first, either for me or for my friends and family back home. But God truly is full of surprises, and my experience this summer ended up being a truly remarkable and life-changing experience.

The adventure took place in Tanzania, a country of East Africa, notable mostly for Serengeti National Park, Mount Kilimanjaro, and the Swahili language that gave us the phrase "Hakuna matata." In fact, "The Lion King" basically took place in Tanzania. While we unfortunately (or perhaps fortunately) did not get to see any lions, elephants, or wildebeests, we did get to experience Tanzania's natural beauty on the slopes of Mount Kilimanjaro, the highest peak in Africa, and tallest freestanding mountain in the world. I was joined by my St. John Vianney classmate and fellow NAC-er Vince Fernandez, who must be given credit for everything that happened this summer, since he took the initiative on making this adventure happen!

That's Vince. He's the man.

Our first order of business upon arriving in Africa was to promptly climb to the top of it. To put it bluntly, climbing Kilimanjaro was awesome. It was also one of the most difficult things I've ever done! The dormant volcano stands at 19,340 feet (5,895 meters) above sea level. Fortunately, because it is volcanic in nature, the ascent is pretty gradual most of the way, and could be called more of a hike than a genuine "climb." To be honest, our knowledge of this fact made us a little cocky. "Oh, it's just a really long hike, right? I mean, I can do that. Piece o' cake." Boy, were we wrong!

On day 1, we set out in the lush rainforest foliage with a nice brisk pace and a little spring in our step. Day 1: we made it to our first campsite, Machame Camp at 9,500 feet, no problem. Day 2, we set out from there to Shira Camp at 12,500 feet. Easy peasy. Day 3...well day 3 kicked our butts! We had emerged from the tree line and entered a rocky, more desert-like landscape. Fortunately, this gave us finally a beautiful view of the Mountain in front of us, but it also showed us that we had a really, really long way to go!

A view of Kili from our day 3 campsite...kind of a long way!

It was at this point that the mental aspect of climbing kicked in, and it was something I never expected. As much as we wanted to just be at the summit in a heartbeat, we had to realize that it would only happen one step at a time, one campsite at a time...Our two Tanzanian guides kept reminding us on days 4 and 5, "Don't think about the summit today. Today, think about getting to that camp and having a nice meal!"

Here we are with our two studly guides, Moody (left), and Nico.

So, for the next two whole days, we trudged on, winding our way through the rocky terrain, moving slowly so as to acclimate to the altitude, and trying to think only of next day's camp, while the mountain seemed to remain far away...Things got even more frustrating when, on day 4, our route to the campsite brought us downhill! We had arrived at 4,600 meters, our closest point to the summit, and yet we had to go down to camp! Obviously, we knew that this was to allow us to get used to the altitude changes, but it was still difficult to think that we were walking away from the summit! We weren't playing that mental game so well, but we were still in the hunt, and after, a long, foggy trudge on day 4 to our final camp, Baraf Hut, we were now able to put the summit in our minds!

Our final ascent began on Day 5 at the brisk morning hour of 12:30 am. After a few hours of sleep, our guides woke us up and gave us the pep talk. Now was the day to think of only one thing: the summit! After saddling up, we rolled out, with our headlamps lighting the way. The climb was still slow as molasses as followed a switchback pattern up the side of the mountain. Usually when you're at a high point, the best advise is "don't look down," right? Well, during the seemingly endless morning of Day 5, the motto was "don't look up!" The reason for this was that, if we looked up, we could see off in the distance the flickering lights of other climbers who had set out before us. The truth was that we had a very, very long way to go, but, in the dark the only way to actually understand how far we had to go was by seeing these little lights! One glance was enough to make us start thinking, "Man, this is going to take forever!"

So look down we did. We walked, drank boatloads of water, sang a few songs to make the time pass, watched as the sun slowly started to illuminate the sky behind us! As it grew lighter, we could see the vast, beautiful landscape below us. It was truly amazing; one of those moments where you realize that no picture could do it justice! Slowly but surely we trudged, as the sun rose and the hours passed by...

After roughly 8 hours on the trail, we finally stopped going up! We had arrived at Stella Point, marking our arrival not at the summit, but at the rim of the volcano. We could see the summit on the other side of the rim, not too far away, and we knew that the most difficult stretch was over!

Stella Point. Yeah, we were pretty wiped.

After another 45 minutes across the ridge, the ascent was finished! We arrived at Uhuru (Freedom) Peak at a little after 9 am that morning, exhausted, but grateful that the Lord had given us the strength to carry on! We knelt down with our guides (both of whom were Catholic!) and prayed two Hail Mary's: one in English, and the other in Swahili. What a blessing it was to offer the highest point in Africa to the protection of Our Blessed Mother!

The Summit!

A day and a half later, we were back at sea level, where we essentially slept and ate ice cream for two days while we prepared to launch upon the next leg of our summer adventure! Overall, climbing Mount Kilimanjaro was an incredible experience, and while the jury is still out for me as to whether I would ever do something like that again, it was, in its own way, a great moment of growth. I learned, mostly the hard way, about the importance of taking the ascent one day at a time. The summit was always in mind, but in those moments where it was still far away, we learned the importance of taking it slow and trusting that we were making progress. I learned also that, in order to make it to the summit, you've got to want it! I'm thankful for Vince, as well as our guides, for keeping the goal in mind, especially during that 8-hour marathon of a climb. I could not have done it alone!

It was a blessing too to be united with a great man who has been a powerful influence in my life, namely, Blessed Pier Giorgio Frassati! He was a young Italian man who lived in the early 20th century, and was renowned for his deep Faith, love for Our Lord, and charity for his brothers and sisters. He was also a great mountaineer, and is known to have loved the Italian phrase "Verso l'alto," which means "To the heights!" He also said that, "the higher we go, the better we shall hear the voice of Christ." We all have to climb the mountain, and fortunately, God is with us at every step! We just have to take it slow, enjoying the beauty along the way, and trusting always in His love!

More to come about the rest of the summer, folks. Until then, know of my prayers for you all!

In Christ,

Colin