The fact that I don’t speak Spanish didn’t stop me from going to Mexico as often as possible with bilingual Catholic friends. Our driving trips took us through many interior states. Hands down Guanajuato (birthplace of Mexican independence) is the most beautiful city I’ve seen. But the industrial city of Monterrey remains my favorite. There I found many of the beautiful things that have adorned our Saint Philip worship area over the years. You will recognize several of them, for example the framed Our Lady of Guadalupe portrait in the Day Chapel, the gold seashell I use when baptizing, the gold wine-and-water cruets tray used by altar servers in our Mass, and most especially, the gold and silver footed ciborium in our tabernacle which I gifted to St. Philip in honor of Archbishop Joseph Fiorenza appointing me pastor July 01, 2005.
The village of Tierra Nueva, situated in the hills above San Luis Potosi, sticks out in my memory. Its medical doctor, a recent graduate, had just opened her little clinic. She put 15 or more stitches in my mouth and lips after I careened 20 feet down a steep hill in a rock slide. The cactus slowed my fall and stopped me. The doctor yanked out the biggest thorns and treated my other wounds. No broken bones, however. We will take you home, my friends said. No, I said, I'm staying. The next few days were rough. We pushed on to colonial Guanajuato high up in the Sierra. The grand Hotel Castillo Santa Cecilia reigns over this beautiful city wedged in the narrow mountain valley below, finer than any hospital on earth. I had one mishap, fainting to the cobblestones outside Guanajuato's university (famous for its Ballet Folklorico). It’s the altitude (7k ft) I gasped, getting to my feet and dusting myself off. I’m glad I did. The air was cool, the city enchanting, the plazas and cuisine exquisite. Afternoon rain showers blessed the verdant farmlands and my face too. People invariably ask me, Why didn’t you go into the Museum of the Mummies? Father Barker +++