DAYS THREE/FOUR
DAY THREE—FOUR
Wednesday, November 12
Thursday, November 13
Note to self: no coffee after 1pm. I don’t know why I have to keep learning this lesson. Yesterday there was free good coffee at a dozen carpas. I didn’t have that many. But maybe four. Bad idea. At midnight, 1am, 2am, no matter how many sheep I counted, no sleep. I did come up with some other great ideas, though. How to share The Poem. In which language. Sulman has a young volunteer back in Colombia who is formatting it, to make it look pretty. Abilio is busy networking — where else might we be able to present it? Yikes. I’m just trying to keep from being overwhelmed here.
Right now Marina Silva, the wonderful Brazilian minister of the environment, is talking in one of the carpas (tents) in this gigantic airplane hangar. Michelle Bachelet too, the former president of Chile. I can hear her voice. Portuguese (of course). “Children. Necessary. Now is the time. And more.” Very passionate sounding. Lots of clapping. I decided not to muscle my way in. Too squishy. Too hot. Abilio and Sulman are in there. I will get a full report.
Yesterday evening just as I was leaving to catch a bus to find my friends, I was met by a group of protestors, moving quickly through the street. It seems they later broke through security and occupied the site. There might have been about 50 -60 folks, maybe half of them obviously Indigenous. (I did notice one Ricardo Flores Magon flag.) The Rev. Shaneequa Brokenleg wrote a very thoughtful comment on the situation which I will repost. One quote for now:
“I know some will say that protesting isn’t the way to do things. But I wonder what would any of us do if our homelands were disappearing, our sacred sites desecrated, our food and medicine threatened, and our children’s future was being destroyed?”
Today there was no sign of the disruption.
We were up fairly early and out. Again we were heading first to the Anglican cathedral. Today there was a full day of activities at the Tapiri. First, as we make our way in, friends from other circles. This one we met in Brazil 10 years ago, this one a Vancouver friend. The Anglican cathedral is spacious and breezy. Small compared to a Roman Catholic Cathedral. They have set the Tapiri up in the back yard, under a giant canopy. It is warm, hot, but there are huge fans whirling on overtime. The breeze is nice.
We meet with Yeb Saño. He was recently named head of the world-wide Laudato Si movement. I ask how he feels about the global gathering. He shakes his head. “I have been to 22 COPs,” he says. “I have no faith in governments. Even less for business. Lies and manipulation. Here is where hope lies,” he says, waving his hands around the space. “People gathered.”
We are quiet and absorb the stories of the many. Of violation and struggle, of hope and despair. As we wrap we gather with the Canadians for a moment. Development and Peace. Catch up. Old stories of Abilio in Toronto, and then, whisk, off to the Blue Zone.
I’m afraid to admit I had a bit of a personal meltdown (discretely) back at the official gathering. It is so big, so complex, and I’m not sure if there is much hope there. I remember the first feedback I had. “Ah— you’re going to COP-OUT.” Yep. That is the feeling of many. Why do we even bother? Even Cardinal Barreto, from Peru, who I met at the Kairos, D and P meeting in Calgary in June. He wasn’t going, he says. But an Indigenous women leader said, Go. So he did. We are here because there has to be some way to resolve this global problem. The cop-out isn’t these people, most of them, the ones rushing back and forth down the aisles. It is somewhere else, up where the decision-making meetings are happening. Apparently 1 out of every 25th person is an extractive industry sector lobbyist. Sigh. I look up and count 25 people in 20 seconds.
The highlight for the day: we go for lunch ($25 salad anyone!) in the Blue Zone cafeteria with Fray Eduardo. He is one of those gathered upstairs. He is a red-headed Argentine who now lives in Spain. He is a parish priest and also serves as an adviser to the Spanish Council of Bishops. Abilio whispers to me: Fray Eduardo was on the inside of the Papal Encyclical, Laudato Si. A special consultant to Pope Francis, he was the one to line the words up in this prophetic document. Care for our Common Home.
The document became a movement.
After melting down, I went to sit by myself (as much as one can), under the giant revolving earth. This travels from COP to COP, I am told. It is soothing to sit under the slowly moving planet, our Island home. Just sit and breathe.
In the evening we head over to the Peoples’ Summit. Here in Belem there are so many layers. We arrive as the celebration is starting. Loud but wonderful music. Everyone is dancing, or at least swaying. I’m so tired. At last we head home.
And there was evening and there was morning, the fourth day.
Thursday began bright. Until I was happily practicing my Portuguese with the fellow at the door of our appartment building, and somehow didn’t see a step. This was a total pancake. Flatt on my face. I twiisted my ankle, but nothing too bad. Later in the Blue Zome a handsome fellow from the Cruz Roja tended to me. It melt nice after three months of pilgrimage to have someone fussing over me. I even insisted on putting the sock back on my annointed and bandaged foot.
We walked, as we have every morning, to Tapiri, in the Anglican cathedral. Every time we go there I find more people I know, or more people I like. This is where I feel right. We are welcomed with coffee, cookies, bananas. The Dean, and poet and artist, Ives Gabara, hovers making sure I am all set up. He prints off a bunch of leaflets with the QR code to The Poem. In English and in Spanish!
Best of all, the Aotearo/New Zealand folks are here, and we start the day in prayer, in Maori and in English. This is something sacred and precious. My whole self feels realigned with the world. Especially an embodied prayer. And the Rev. Susan Wallace’s words. This is what I love, real connection and beauty. What a gift. Then we roar off to the Blue Zone, where I get bandaged and cared for.
But now we are into the meat and potatoes of COP. We head upstairs, to the freezing zone. Fray Eduardo has organized this, and then left others to carry it into community. I’m not going to try and explain it all here. When I have more time, I will write about how I have incorporated this into my eco-theology. Here attached is a good article outlining their work.
https://maryknollogc.org/2025/09/01/global-south-bishops-call-for-climate-action-at-cop30/
The (freezing) room fills with power and warmth. Three Cardinals: Jaime Spengler (Latin America), Fridolin Ambongo (Africa) and Felip Nei Ferrao (Asia), speak with one voice. The prophetic voice from the global south. Their collective discernment. This isn’t about changing a few policies. It’s about changing ourselves. Millions of people are living the catastrophic consequences of climate change. The time for false solutions is over. COP-30 is not an event. It is a moral turning point for humanity.
This writing as the imprint of Fray Eduardo. He is not in the public view, but we can see how critically important he has been. We greet also my acquaintance, Dr. Emilce Cuda, the Secretary of the Pontifical Commission for Latin America. Dr. Cuda, theologian and strategist is invisible to many, and central in this whole work. This is the room where it happened. I was privileged to be a witness.
Famished, again, we take a bus back to centre of Belem. Grab lunch and then head again to Tapiri. This time I make new friends with Bishop Huberto of Porto Alegre. We chat for a good while… he says as a Bishop he loves “crazy” priests. I think he might have been talking about me and my pilgrimage! At any rate, he takes us upstairs, where all the Anglicans are sequestered, drinking guava juice and eating baloney sandwiches.
The final action of the day, we join a walk and a vigil for the Earth, led by none other than my best friend from the 2019 Amazonian Synod in Rome, popular educator, Juscelio Pantoja. We process to a lovely local park, and we experiment with all kinds of ritual and prayer. It is night now. This is the first vigil where we are all up dancing (with my bum ankle). The Primate and the Dean, and the rest are all bringing down the stars. I am so happy. So in love with: these people, this earth, this river. I pray for the whole lot of us. Tel us prevail. Let us win now, or soon, once and for all. Let this sea of people, these ones from everywhere, may we hold treasured the voice of those who have been excluded. May our voices ring.
We walk home to our place, led by me, and I get us lost. The day ends with 10 kilometres paraded (in total, all day). My poor ankle.
Love,
Em
p.s. I don’t have time even to proof read this, so please forgive all errors, large and small.
See you soon.