3:00 PM. Here I am inside the plane that will take Pope Francis to Asia
and Oceania. I am the Holy Father's diaper attendant; in practice I
manage the precious cargo that Francis makes extensive use of over the
course of 24 hours. Don't ask me how I got this job: I can't reveal it.
The nuns in charge of the Pope's personal hygiene, Sister Genuflessa and
Sister Catena Crocifissa, shuttle back and forth to my closet. ---- 4:27
PM. Francis arrives greeted by a general ovation. The most daring in
acrobatics are the Vatican journalists. ---- 5:15 PM, we take off. The
Pope fastens a special belt with an extension, he is serene and eager
for a game of scopone with his most faithful followers. 6:10 PM:
Bergoglio has already won 15 euros, the other players seem intimidated.
6:23 PM. The Pope has to go to the toilet; Sister Genuflessa accompanies
him, carrying the bag with the diapers. Bergoglio barely fits into the
plane's bathroom; the nun doesn't find enough space to follow him
because of his size. He calls Sister Catena Crocifissa, a skinny
Filipina who squeezes into the toilet and manages to extricate herself
from the habit, underwear and diapers. In the end she emerges triumphant
with the tightly closed return bag that she gives me.
The evening passes with the recitation of the rosary, a dinner of pasta,
steak and chips, with a tofu option for vegetarians, a joke contest, and
a second game of scopone in which Francis hands out 47 euros to journalists.
September 3
The night passed peacefully. The Holy Father rested; stuffed as he was,
he didn't have to wake up to urinate. This has led to some morning
traffic, especially for the poor and patient nuns. I have provided my
services admirably and have some toxic waste to dispose of.
At 11:30 we land in Jakarta. Bergoglio is picked up by those from the
Community of Sant'Egidio. It will be a day of rest. Between one change
and another I have time to visit the city. I enter the poor
neighborhoods of the port: I witness dramatic situations: the slums are
invaded by water and tend to sink. People adapt to the mud and the
stench. In a shack adapted to a restaurant, I eat fried noodles, which
here they call Mie Goreng, and chicken skewers with peanut sauce which
they call Sate Ayam. I spend the evening in the community playing chess
with one of the escort, who beats me four times.
September 4
Early rising; bath at the S.P., Italian breakfast, and then off to the
white presidential palace for the meeting, at 10, with the President of
the Republic Joko Widodo. After the Pope, the diplomatic circle, the
security service, the two nuns and I come in order of importance, always
ready to intervene in case of... emergencies. In the luxurious rooms of
the palace we are made to sit in an adjacent living room. At 10:35
meeting with the authorities, several hundred people; we listen to the
words, the anti-abortionist ending does not escape us: «A law of death»,
which «limits births». «You in Indonesia have families with 4 or 5
children, and that's fine, keep going like this». Sister Genuflessa is
apprehensive: Francesco has bought a lot of doughnuts, which he is very
fond of, and fears some unscheduled event. In fact, when we move to the
nunciature at 11:15, Our Man is already dropping a few bombshells.
Luckily, we get into action, and in no time we deliver it to the Jesuits
nice and smelling nice.
The meeting is small; they send us to lunch early. Among the Vatican
experts, there is whispering about a holy scolding from the Pope to the
leaders of the Society who are unable to move the number of Catholics
from a mere 3%; those fucking Protestants who are above 4 are doing
better, with the Muslims enjoying themselves from their 87%, and
boasting of the title of the most Islamic nation in the world.
4:20 p.m. (note the railway-style time slot), Francis, after an
excellent lunch in which he apparently had a second helping of rolls
filled with dried shrimp, bamboo shoots, scampi with coconut sugar
sauce, shrimp, chili pepper, water, white pepper, leek and tapioca
starch, which here they call Semarang Lumpia, and having indulged in a
pleasant siesta, visits the cathedral, meets the bishops and at 6:30
p.m. the young people of Scholas Occurrentes. Back at the Jesuit Refugee
Service, he has dinner with chicken broth and spends the rest of the
evening playing cards with the escort. The cardinals have taken up
tourism. The nuns and I watch the TV series Father Brown on the computer
even though none of us speak English well.
September 5
A restless night with the nuns at the Pope's bedside: "I'm thirsty",
"pee", "what time is it?", "I have a stomachache"... For breakfast,
however, he doesn't give up cream doughnuts and cappuccino.
9:00 am, interreligious meeting between the Pope and the Grand Imam in
the Istiqlal Mosque, the largest in all of Southeast Asia, connected to
the cathedral by the "tunnel of friendship". Then transfer to the large
hall for the Pope's speech, followed by the reading and signing of a
Joint Declaration. Everything very quickly: at 10:00 am we see him again
in the hall of the Indonesian Episcopal Conference. Time for a short
meeting with guests from various welfare organizations and at 10:45 am
he returns to the nunciature. Sprawled out in an armchair, with his
shoes off, he takes a nap. For lunch, a shellfish appetizer, pappardelle
alla romana and sirloin steak with potatoes. We also enjoy the same
food. The Pope and cardinals remain chatting about this and that until
3:30 pm, time for the diaper change.
5:00 pm, Jakarta stadium, mass for the faithful, they say there are
60,000. We watch it on television. When he says the phrase "The devil is
in your pockets," many instinctively put their hands in their pockets in
amazement. Usually they are empty, of money and devils.
7:00 p.m., return to the nunciature, frugal dinner and off to bed:
tomorrow there is the transfer to Oceania.
I spend the evening in the slums of the capital, I eat a terrible Gudeg,
a vegetable soup with mutton and rice and drink a disgusting tuak. I
rush back with a stomachache. Francesco is nice and stuffed, the night
passes peacefully.
September 6
9:30 a.m. Farewell ceremony at the airport and departure for Port
Moresby, Papua New Guinea: 9 hours of flight, lunch included. I sort out
my containers, I only intervene around 3:00 p.m., for the rest I resume
the chess game with the head of the escort, who continues to shamelessly
win. On the other side, in the papal classroom, the joke contest has
resumed and laughter reverberates throughout the plane.
6:50 pm landing and welcome ceremony. 7:20 pm arrival at the nunciature.
Traditional dinner offered by the bishop: fish with lime and coconut
sauce, which here they call Kokoda, for the big guys; for the low
strength Mumu, that is pork with different types of seasoning. Free evening.
9:27 pm. The Father Brown series is difficult to watch; I brought four
bottles of wine from the castles stolen from the pantry of the Vatican
chefs, two from Frascati and two from Testamatta. Sister Genuflessa,
Sister Catena and I drink them in the space of an hour, talking and
badmouthing the fat cardinals. Sister Genuflessa sprawled in an
armchair, sleeps and snores blissfully. Sister Catena and I become
familiar, Caty smoothes my beard, I uncover her hair and kiss her on the
neck. We don't even have time to go any further than... HEY! Sister
Genuflessa pounces on Caty and rips her off me, taking her with her.
September 7
4:12 am. Sister Genuflessa wakes me up to change my diaper. She is
strangely silent.
6:17 am. There is a knock at the door. It is always Sister Genuflessa.
She hands me an envelope with a plane ticket to Rome via Jakarta.
Outside there is a taxi waiting to take me to the airport. I also find
Sister Catena Crocifissa with a ticket to Manila. Both fired.
My trip ends here. Just at the best moment...
Fra' Dubbioso
http://sicilialibertaria.it
_________________________________________
A - I N F O S N E W S S E R V I C E
By, For, and About Anarchists
Send news reports to A-infos-en mailing list
A-infos-en@ainfos.ca
and Oceania. I am the Holy Father's diaper attendant; in practice I
manage the precious cargo that Francis makes extensive use of over the
course of 24 hours. Don't ask me how I got this job: I can't reveal it.
The nuns in charge of the Pope's personal hygiene, Sister Genuflessa and
Sister Catena Crocifissa, shuttle back and forth to my closet. ---- 4:27
PM. Francis arrives greeted by a general ovation. The most daring in
acrobatics are the Vatican journalists. ---- 5:15 PM, we take off. The
Pope fastens a special belt with an extension, he is serene and eager
for a game of scopone with his most faithful followers. 6:10 PM:
Bergoglio has already won 15 euros, the other players seem intimidated.
6:23 PM. The Pope has to go to the toilet; Sister Genuflessa accompanies
him, carrying the bag with the diapers. Bergoglio barely fits into the
plane's bathroom; the nun doesn't find enough space to follow him
because of his size. He calls Sister Catena Crocifissa, a skinny
Filipina who squeezes into the toilet and manages to extricate herself
from the habit, underwear and diapers. In the end she emerges triumphant
with the tightly closed return bag that she gives me.
The evening passes with the recitation of the rosary, a dinner of pasta,
steak and chips, with a tofu option for vegetarians, a joke contest, and
a second game of scopone in which Francis hands out 47 euros to journalists.
September 3
The night passed peacefully. The Holy Father rested; stuffed as he was,
he didn't have to wake up to urinate. This has led to some morning
traffic, especially for the poor and patient nuns. I have provided my
services admirably and have some toxic waste to dispose of.
At 11:30 we land in Jakarta. Bergoglio is picked up by those from the
Community of Sant'Egidio. It will be a day of rest. Between one change
and another I have time to visit the city. I enter the poor
neighborhoods of the port: I witness dramatic situations: the slums are
invaded by water and tend to sink. People adapt to the mud and the
stench. In a shack adapted to a restaurant, I eat fried noodles, which
here they call Mie Goreng, and chicken skewers with peanut sauce which
they call Sate Ayam. I spend the evening in the community playing chess
with one of the escort, who beats me four times.
September 4
Early rising; bath at the S.P., Italian breakfast, and then off to the
white presidential palace for the meeting, at 10, with the President of
the Republic Joko Widodo. After the Pope, the diplomatic circle, the
security service, the two nuns and I come in order of importance, always
ready to intervene in case of... emergencies. In the luxurious rooms of
the palace we are made to sit in an adjacent living room. At 10:35
meeting with the authorities, several hundred people; we listen to the
words, the anti-abortionist ending does not escape us: «A law of death»,
which «limits births». «You in Indonesia have families with 4 or 5
children, and that's fine, keep going like this». Sister Genuflessa is
apprehensive: Francesco has bought a lot of doughnuts, which he is very
fond of, and fears some unscheduled event. In fact, when we move to the
nunciature at 11:15, Our Man is already dropping a few bombshells.
Luckily, we get into action, and in no time we deliver it to the Jesuits
nice and smelling nice.
The meeting is small; they send us to lunch early. Among the Vatican
experts, there is whispering about a holy scolding from the Pope to the
leaders of the Society who are unable to move the number of Catholics
from a mere 3%; those fucking Protestants who are above 4 are doing
better, with the Muslims enjoying themselves from their 87%, and
boasting of the title of the most Islamic nation in the world.
4:20 p.m. (note the railway-style time slot), Francis, after an
excellent lunch in which he apparently had a second helping of rolls
filled with dried shrimp, bamboo shoots, scampi with coconut sugar
sauce, shrimp, chili pepper, water, white pepper, leek and tapioca
starch, which here they call Semarang Lumpia, and having indulged in a
pleasant siesta, visits the cathedral, meets the bishops and at 6:30
p.m. the young people of Scholas Occurrentes. Back at the Jesuit Refugee
Service, he has dinner with chicken broth and spends the rest of the
evening playing cards with the escort. The cardinals have taken up
tourism. The nuns and I watch the TV series Father Brown on the computer
even though none of us speak English well.
September 5
A restless night with the nuns at the Pope's bedside: "I'm thirsty",
"pee", "what time is it?", "I have a stomachache"... For breakfast,
however, he doesn't give up cream doughnuts and cappuccino.
9:00 am, interreligious meeting between the Pope and the Grand Imam in
the Istiqlal Mosque, the largest in all of Southeast Asia, connected to
the cathedral by the "tunnel of friendship". Then transfer to the large
hall for the Pope's speech, followed by the reading and signing of a
Joint Declaration. Everything very quickly: at 10:00 am we see him again
in the hall of the Indonesian Episcopal Conference. Time for a short
meeting with guests from various welfare organizations and at 10:45 am
he returns to the nunciature. Sprawled out in an armchair, with his
shoes off, he takes a nap. For lunch, a shellfish appetizer, pappardelle
alla romana and sirloin steak with potatoes. We also enjoy the same
food. The Pope and cardinals remain chatting about this and that until
3:30 pm, time for the diaper change.
5:00 pm, Jakarta stadium, mass for the faithful, they say there are
60,000. We watch it on television. When he says the phrase "The devil is
in your pockets," many instinctively put their hands in their pockets in
amazement. Usually they are empty, of money and devils.
7:00 p.m., return to the nunciature, frugal dinner and off to bed:
tomorrow there is the transfer to Oceania.
I spend the evening in the slums of the capital, I eat a terrible Gudeg,
a vegetable soup with mutton and rice and drink a disgusting tuak. I
rush back with a stomachache. Francesco is nice and stuffed, the night
passes peacefully.
September 6
9:30 a.m. Farewell ceremony at the airport and departure for Port
Moresby, Papua New Guinea: 9 hours of flight, lunch included. I sort out
my containers, I only intervene around 3:00 p.m., for the rest I resume
the chess game with the head of the escort, who continues to shamelessly
win. On the other side, in the papal classroom, the joke contest has
resumed and laughter reverberates throughout the plane.
6:50 pm landing and welcome ceremony. 7:20 pm arrival at the nunciature.
Traditional dinner offered by the bishop: fish with lime and coconut
sauce, which here they call Kokoda, for the big guys; for the low
strength Mumu, that is pork with different types of seasoning. Free evening.
9:27 pm. The Father Brown series is difficult to watch; I brought four
bottles of wine from the castles stolen from the pantry of the Vatican
chefs, two from Frascati and two from Testamatta. Sister Genuflessa,
Sister Catena and I drink them in the space of an hour, talking and
badmouthing the fat cardinals. Sister Genuflessa sprawled in an
armchair, sleeps and snores blissfully. Sister Catena and I become
familiar, Caty smoothes my beard, I uncover her hair and kiss her on the
neck. We don't even have time to go any further than... HEY! Sister
Genuflessa pounces on Caty and rips her off me, taking her with her.
September 7
4:12 am. Sister Genuflessa wakes me up to change my diaper. She is
strangely silent.
6:17 am. There is a knock at the door. It is always Sister Genuflessa.
She hands me an envelope with a plane ticket to Rome via Jakarta.
Outside there is a taxi waiting to take me to the airport. I also find
Sister Catena Crocifissa with a ticket to Manila. Both fired.
My trip ends here. Just at the best moment...
Fra' Dubbioso
http://sicilialibertaria.it
_________________________________________
A - I N F O S N E W S S E R V I C E
By, For, and About Anarchists
Send news reports to A-infos-en mailing list
A-infos-en@ainfos.ca
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