I can't remember when I decided to attend for my first World Youth Day this year in Madrid. Part of it was due to the adventure thrill of the pilgrimage aspect and the night beneath the stars with more than a million youngsters, part were the promotional videos on the internet. But I guess it was primarily due to the enthusiasm shown by my friend, Elaine, in recounting how much they had enjoyed the experience in Cologne six years before.
As for similar trips, I went without any expectations, ready to accept whatever would be provided and to do whatever was necessary. No complaints for eating the same 'bezzun bis-salami', salad and gazpacho for five consecutive days. Or for the long queues in the crowds. Or for having people trample on my sleeping-mat and belongings. Actually I think that these minor discomforts spice up the experience and in the end won't kill anyone.
The first five days in Barcelona were quite relaxing. Time to get to know better the other members in our group, go around the city, and enjoy some concerts. The Mass for pilgrims in Barcelona at the Forum of Cultures was our first major event. It was attended by thousands, and was the first of many occasions in which we tested our vocal chords in chants of Malta and Christian songs, walking to the venue amongst youngsters of different nationalities. We immediately got into the enthusiastic spirit surrounding us. In Barcelona, we also had the opportunity to attend a very beautiful concert by Sister Hermana Glenda. Her music was lovely, and the simple messages and stories transmitted in between each song were beautiful. I very much hated myself for my poor knowledge of Spanish, as I really wished I could understand everything she was saying.
After five days, we were off to Madrid. We were given a very warm welcome by the Salesian volunteers who were hosting us. The city was literally taken over by thousands of youths: cheering, singing, clapping. You could see youngsters wearing the same yellow t-shirts, JMJ hats and carrying the same back-packs at every nook and cranny of the city. The atmosphere was fantastic, one of jubilation and friendliness. During our time in Madrid, we had three mornings of Catechesis: one by Brooklyn's Auxiliary Bishop Frank Caggiano, one by Adelaide's Archbishop Philip Wilson, and another by Gozo's Bishop Mario Grech. I remember Bishop Caggiano's speech particularly: a truly inspiring and encouraging message for all young people present. In these Catechesis sessions, we were joined by youths from Australia, Indonesia, USA, the Philippines, Kenya, Canada, the UK, and others. Our group also had the opportunity to prepare the animation preceding the Bishop's talk in the last day of Catechesis, in which we introduced the theme with some videos, and got everybody up to dance "Quando il Cristiano baila".
The most memorable day though was definitely Saturday at Cuatro Vientos airfield. We left early in the morning to try to be early and find a good spot in our defined area. Due to the crowds, the Cuatro Vientos metro stop was closed and everyone had to walk the last part of the trip. It happened to be the hottest day of the Spanish summer; temperatures reached 42 degrees. We reached the airfield at around noon and started to walking to our area. It was huge. It's enough to say that to reach the toilets which were surrounding the airfield from our area, which was very central, we needed approximately a 30-minute walk. Getting out from our area was the hardest part: the ground was practically covered by sleeping mats and people's belongings, which you had to trample on to reach the main passageways. Thank God for the few moments in which we found some shelter in the surrounding chapels, otherwise the heat and sun would have been unbearable.
Soon enough, evening came. We welcomed the Pope and the vigil started. Unexpectedly, after a day in the scorching sun, the sky darkened and the few drops of rain were felt. Flashes of lightning, and in no time it was raining heavily. Out the raincoats and umbrellas. The service had to be suspended for a few moments, until the rain stopped and the prayer vigil resumed, followed by a Eucharistic adoration. For a few minutes, not a sound could be heard. Two million youngsters, who had otherwise woken a city with their noise, fell in deep silence in front of a piece of bread they believe was the Person they had come to encounter. And in that moment, with a look around me, I remembered Bishop Caggiano's words: "You are not alone". You are not alone in believing, you are not alone in following.
The experience was quickly over. After a night spent in the company of jumping grasshoppers and very busy ants, we awoke for the concluding Mass, made our way back to our accommodation through that sea of people, and packed our belongings for our trip back. Back not only to our country, but back to our daily routine. And though in our daily lives the intensity of the spiritual experience may slowly fade, the memory and feeling of the experience will last in our minds forever. For whenever we may feel discouraged, afraid to bear witness, or fighting a lonely battle, we can always remember the trip that taught us that we are not alone. That others in France, in Laos, in Canada, in Seychelles, in Argentina, in China, in Kenya, are living the same experience and share our same Faith. We can remember that we saw with our eyes that the Church is universal, the Church is young, and that God is very much alive in the hearts of many!
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