Dogs in churches and the abs of Jesus

by Michelle Muijlkens (Netherlands)

Making a local connection Argentina

I step into the church. Inside it’s almost as warm as outside. I take my seat and wonder if my bare legs would be a reason for somebody to get offended. My eyes catch the statue of Jesus Christ hanging above the altar. Since when does Jesus have abs? It’s a question I will ask my friend in Buenos Aires later that evening. In the seat next to me sits a mother with her small child. On the other side an old lady who kind off looks like Evita. Within five minutes I receive a wet kiss from her on both my cheeks. In the end we are all family when in church. This is confirmed by the preacher when he puts the wafer in my mouth. I hopefully raised my hands like a tiny bowl, but no. Just like in Poland, there is no independent use of the wafer in the church. When I return to my seat at the pew, the mother next to me is breastfeeding her child. The seat where I used to sit is taken by a dog. No Argentinian seems to be surprised, and neither do I. You hit your feet, you lose your seat. I think I made a deal with the Father one year ago. Not my biological one, but the one who rules in church. Whenever I feel lonely or whenever I need comfort, I go find him. In exchange I am allowed to spend some time in his home with my Christian family. Wherever I am, I am not alone. Last summer when I travelled around Latin – America, I knocked on His door a lot. People often judge me because I travel a lot. They ask me how I pay for my travels. If it will ever be enough. If the time hasn’t come for me to become and adult and to settle down. They call me ‘the gypsy’ of the family, because I leave whenever I can. The girl is out, again. Those people never realise that for me, travelling is a bare necessity. Every day I walk as many miles as my feet can carry. With my hands and feet I try to speak to people in their own language, so I can learn. The restless feeling in my body forces me to discover places, makes me grow. Travelling is not being on vacation, it’s the key to become a better person. So I can learn, so I can understand. So travelling is not always meant to relax. Sometimes it’s lonely and on occasion I find myself in bizarre situations. Now, in Argentina, I feel misunderstood sometimes. People really don’t speak English here. In the end I’ll make it work, but sometimes it makes me feel despondent. And here we come to the reason that I’m in church right now. Here I don’t have to struggle in Spanish words to be understood. We are all part of the same family, even with a dog. And Jesus with his abs, but I suppose I’m the only one who thinks it’s funny. While the old lady next to me holds my hand my thoughts wonder to my life and family in my own country. Family and friends that doubt my motivation and choices in life. Some family members that tell me that there is something wrong with me, because I am still by myself. Without partner, without children. Who’s questions make me feel like I failed them. My answer to them is that it’s none of their business. As long as I feel restless, I will continue to travel. With every step I take abroad, I will grow. The church service is over. The wafer is stuck to my palate, but I’m too scared to pick it loose. I get another wet kiss from the old lady and my ‘family’ and I walk into the warm, Argentinian night. The dog walks along. Together we say goodbye to our Father. I am comforted again, ready for another adventure. Ready to grow, learn and be misunderstood again.