pologies for not keeping the blog up to date every day. It’s a challenge to put in a full day and still have the couple of hours necessary to process the photographs, write the blog, and upload it all over a fairly slow wireless connection in the house. But today (Thursday morning) I’m catching up with Tuesday (July 15) and Wednesday (July 16). This very cold morning, people seemed to get up in a fairly good disposition – except for the sickies for whom their physical ailments seem more exaggerated because of the cold. We met as planned at the picnic table around 8:30 AM and then moved to the Brothers Chapel for morning prayer followed by a brief discussion of the day’s plans. Since this was the day for the Opening Liturgy at Barangaroo – a large warf area near
A large group of us decided to go to Taronga Zoo, which would involve taking a ferry across the harbor. Others were either laid up (Eric) or decided to do something else (e.g., Rich, Chris, and Robb would join Paul for a visit to
We took the train to Circular Quay and got our ferry tickets to the Zoo. Then we waited 15 minutes or so for the ferry. Since it was a wonderful day, the views as we traveled across the harbor were fantastic. The boat was filled with other pilgrims and the spirit was positive and ready for a day of fun. At the dock, there were buses to take us to the top of the hill, where the entrance to the park was located. 
This took another ten minutes or so, followed by yet another line to buy our tickets and get into the park. Thankfully, the Zoo was the “official tourist attraction of WYD 2008” and therefore we could get in for half price ($19.50 instead of double that). I was scheduled to staff the vocation booth this afternoon at 2 PM, so I only had an hour or so to run around the Australian portion of the zoo. Nevertheless, the must-see animals were duly seen (kangaroos, koalas, and emus), and I made my way down the hill, through the various exhibits to the dock on the bottom. There, I ran into Br. Paulo, the Visitor of Brazil and a friend from General Chapter days, and part of his group. So we had a good time talking about this and that as we made our way back to Circular Quay on the ferry.
I was going to go with them further, but suddenly I was distracted when right in front of me I saw Francis George (cardinal of Chicago and a priest whom I got to know when I stayed in the Boston OMI community while studying at Boston College
back in the nineties) asking for directions. I went up to him and we were both surprised to see one another there. I helped them find the place where they needed to go (one of the wharfs where the bishops were taking a tour of the harbor) and we had a brief conversation on the way. He told me that while his cancer is in remission, his walking difficulties are getting worse. I told him that it was probably because he was getting older. We were able to take a quick picture and then he was off to his event. Later in the day, during the Mass, he was one of those behind Cardinal Pell on the other (of course), but it was great to briefly see him on the street.
By now it was time to make my way to the Vocation Booth. I had been told that it was in section E8, and I mistakenly thought that this meant a section of Banrangaroo. So I followed the volunteer guides – lots of them with brightly colored jackets and pointers – and the growing horde of folks making their way down blocked-off streets. When we got past the tunnel underneath the 
From that point forward, we inched along quite slowly. But no matter, the kids and adults in the group were singing, shouting, doing the “wave” back and forth, and generally having a great time. I got to know some of the people around me in the crowd, tried to call some of the others in our group – “I’m stuck in people” – and generally decided that I had few options and might as well enjoy it. The fence blocked one side of the street was too high to scale over so I would just have to wait until another opportunity presented itself.
After an hour or so in this crowd, the street turned and I was able to hop over a smaller barrier and make my way down another street to the north (?) end of the warf. In one section of a street overlooking all of the park, the police had the thing completely blocked off. You could only be there if you were associated with the media. However, I spoke with one of volunteers in charge there and was able to take a shortcut through the street so as to get to the other major entrance to the warf. Once I found that entrance, I convinced some folks in a tent that I had to be at the vocation booth, and so I bypassed the long security line to go into a “workers” line, receiving a special day pass as a worker, and getting right inside. Once inside the place, with thousands and thousands and thousands of folks sitting, standing, eating, playing card games, etc., I made my way to section E8 only to find that there was no section E8, only E1 through E3, with the same true for all the other letters of the alphabet. It turns out that I was about a mile away from the exhibition hall where the vocation booth was located. Meanwhile, via a couple of phone conversations, the others had also gotten stuck in the crowds and the four who had gone to Bondi Beach and had assembled at the vocation booth were making their own way to a nearby venue from where they could watch the Mass on large-screens set up for the purpose.
Since I was now on my own, I made my way to the very front of the crowd, just next to the main aisle coming onto the altar area. There was sufficient room there so I stayed for the duration. As a result, I was able to take some really fine pictures of the various processions coming down that main aisle and of the main altar area during the
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ne of the things that stood out for me was the fact that prior to the Mass everyone had been wildly celebratory, especially if they knew the cameras were rolling, including the camera whirring by on wires above us. But once the Mass started, you could hear a pin drop among these 150 thousand people. It was perfectly quiet, calm, and reverent, as in a very, very, very large church. Quite the experience, I assure you. During the longish homily, I joined some of those around me by simply sitting on the ground – which was quite a relief after several hours on my feet – but stood during most of the
The really interesting part was the next day, when two of the main newspapers, The Australian and The Telegraph, had a large photograph of the crowds coming into Barangaroo that clearly showed
At the end of the Mass I made my way to the back of the crowd (actually after communion, which was a sort of push-your-way-to-the-front affair), thinking I could make a quick getaway. No such luck. The organizers had separated all the sections and were letting people our section by section. I was squeezed up against the barricades in a sea of humanity. Cajoling the police did no good. We would have to wait. Meanwhile, on stage, a couple of young MC’s were trying to convince the crowds to stick around to enjoy the upcoming concert. At one point, they had everyone take a flash picture at once – lots of light all of a sudden there. But mostly, we were all trying to get out.
When some of the barricades finally were opened, I was able to experience what those on the Hadj must experience. Squeezed tighter than sardines, concentrating on keeping your feet moving, I was carried through the funnel in a direction I didn’t want to go. No one was acting crazy or wild, but it was a bit scary to be moving because of the folks around you. I could probably have lifted my feet and been carried along, if I wanted to risk that. I didn’t. When I finally figured out where they were going (toward the food tents) I made some concerted efforts and was able to move my way to the outskirts of the crowd and begin following the hordes out of the park. I didn’t quite know where we were being led but figured that there would be a train station somewhere up ahead.
We were led through
Not having had any dinner, I thought about stopping at the Bankstown Hotel on my way back, but since it was after 9 PM the kitchen was closed.
But I never did make my appointment stint at the vocation booth, nor did I ever hook up with the rest of our group. Such are the experiences of World Youth Day 2008 in
