Usually I am excited for Holy Week. Lent is over, praise is given, the Glory of the resurrection is the news that deepens every year. But in 2018 I was sadly not looking forward to it. I was feeling low, it felt like Lent had been perpetual. I was tired of the Penitential season and ready for a reward but had this sense that it was just another day that was coming. Where was my joy? After all, wasn’t I doing what God wanted me to do? This talk is in no way a seminary pitch to persuade or dissuade one to enter and experience what God is calling them to. Rather it is my story of rediscovering joy, rediscovering Christ.
After a terribly long semester of Theology and with the need to see my family building ever stronger, the last place I wanted to be was St. Katherine Drexel parish in “beautiful” Chester PA. I just wanted to go to Brooklyn and see my friend Fr. Astor so that I could help him out at His parish for Holy Week as I did in 2016 and 2017. Depression at the very thought of going to st. Katherines was stirring up like a storm ready to burst into a raging pouring rain of tears for the sake of missing my family and due to literal sickness of being exposed to no one but priests and seminarians. It was as if I was developing an allergy to all things formation. When you realize that you are doing something that God isn’t calling you to it’s quite clear; you simply aren’t free. I mean free in the realest sense of the term and not the colloquial American version of doing what I want when I want at anyone’s expense. I wasn’t authentically free because deep down I knew I wasn’t preparing myself for the vocation I was meant to live. I knew deep down that my vocation was to be a husband and a father. It was only when I began to tell people about this that I was becoming more free. I actually smiled a few times and felt the relief as the tension came off of my shoulders.
What I was afraid of, however, was how am I going to do this? I haven’t been working, I had hardly even known any women at that point, everyone only saw me as the “seminarian”. I panicked, I doubted, I was afraid to tell them I was going to leave.
Holy Week 2018 rolled around and I set out with my friend Erik from our house in Philadelphia to the parish in Chester. It was Palm Sunday and I knew it was going to be a long week. I was exhausted mentally, physically, and spiritually. But I still somehow mustered up the energy to pray. After all it was Holy Week and I had to pray despite my desire to just shut down. On Wednesday of Holy Week I went into the chapel of the rectory and just prayed, “Lord send me someone” I think I said this in my heart for a solid 30 minutes. Lord send me someone! As the height of Holy Week was reaching, I was in “sacristan” mode and all I was able to shift my mood into action as I prepared for masses and services.
Good Friday came around. The week was coming to an end and the holiest moments right around the corner. Much to my surprise as I was looking around the church at one of the Good Friday prayer services, my eyes were drawn to a young woman who I had never seen before. She was beautiful, she was praying, she was different. And... I never even said hello. I went back to the rectory, annoyed with myself. Why didn’t I just say hi, what if I never see her again? I told myself that she wouldn’t want to talk to me because after all I’m just a seminarian. I wasn’t ready for the aggravation of meeting another girl that would just want to only see me in the same light as everyone else did. So I didn’t bother. But, she was different and it was as if nothing else existed aside from her when I was looking at her. There was some type of gentle nudge that went on in my heart. She was placed in front of me for some reason and I didn’t jump on the opportunity.
Holy Saturday came around and I remember going to the church to set up for Easter vigil. I was hoping I might see her there. In fact, I prayed about it all morning. Please God, let this girl be there. I walked over to the church and as I was “walking down the aisle” I noticed that she was there. My heart started to beat faster as I got closer to where she was working on some church decorations alongside another parishioner. Our eyes met and to my amazement, and in the most beautifully accented voice (a mixture of Indian and English) I was greeted with the sweetest hello I had ever heard. Finally, this was my chance to discover this person and I proceeded to say hello back. “I’m Clarice. ” This was a name I had never heard before, of course she's Clarice, a beautiful name fit for this gorgeous woman with a majestic accent and a whole mystery to enter into. I was hooked and wanted to know everything about her. Where are you from? Why are you in the states? We’re just some of the questions I asked to get this conversation moving. I had never met anyone from Dubai before!
When this conversation ended after setting up the church I remember wishing that I could spend the whole day with her. I guess I had to wait until I saw her again at the Easter vigil. Those hours couldn’t have passed fast enough. As I walked back into the church to set up for Easter vigil I anxiously anticipated her arrival at the church. When she finally walked in I began to smile because she was so classy, so different, excited to live her culture and wear the tradition proudly. I was hooked. Mass was beautiful even though I was still experiencing many of the same sentiments that had been with me for months now. I was more at peace during the Mass than I had been for quite some time. After Mass, I quickly cleaned up and helped the Brawley’s in the sacristy. I wanted nothing more than to be ready to speak to this woman again. I kept pacing back and forth between the sacristy and the Church to make sure she had not yet left. As it turns out, Clarice was in no rush to get out of there, in fact, her and I spent a solid 20 minutes chatting in the sacristy before I was awkwardly rushed out of there to head back to Manayunk for the evening and before heading home to New York on the morning of Easter Sunday. I got back in the car with the biggest smile on my face, speaking with Clarice was the highlight of my week! About 10 minutes into the drive I realized that I never got any contact info for this girl. I was upset with myself the whole ride home but then it dawned on me that there are not too many Clarice’s out there so I quickly got on to Facebook and found her. It was no more than an instant after pressing the friend request button that I received a notification that my friend request was accepted. My shoulders dropped and I was at ease.
The next day, Erik and I had driven up to New York to see our families. When I was home, all I could think about was Clarice; her voice, her smile, her energy, everything about her. I was in the car with my family when I just could not hold my emotions back in the morning. “Why can’t I date anyone, I just hate this and I cannot wait to get out!” My parents knew that the experience of the seminary was weighing on me heavily and that I was going to leave at the end of the Spring semester. As I have come to know, unlike Indians, I tell my mom everything. Later on that same evening, I was on Facebook looking through Clarice’s pictures when I told my mom, “this is the girl I want to date, this is the one I had that outburst over.” My mother was happy to see her pictures and was even more happy that I shared. I was home for a week, removed from the seminary, and happy to soak up each minute of my time with my parents and my sister. I remember messaging Clarice throughout the week, it was the only time I felt eager about going back to Philadelphia because there was finally someone there that I wanted to see, that I wanted to get to know better. So, I asked Clarice on a date. Yes, I asked a girl on a date while I was in the seminary. It was bold, but I had no shame about it, no guilt, just the ambition for this new connection. Maybe she didn’t know it was a date, but she happily agreed to meet me.
I met up with Clarice one cloudy and rainy Sunday morning in the Center City. I got off the train and when I saw Clarice I was so excited for what the day might have in store for us. Being the good Catholics that we are, Clarice and I went over to Mass at the oratory Church in Philadelphia. From Mass we went to a place for brunch called La Bufatta and then we just continued to talk until she had to meet up with her friend at Barnes and Noble. (Little did I know the friend was a back up plan just in case the date tanked). The date did not tank at all, it was wonderful! The day was filled with prayer, conversation, and even some laughter as she and I got to know each other.
Followed by more and more conversations through FB messenger, I was becoming increasingly interested in Clarice. One day she invited me to her dinner with friends for the defense of her dissertation. I remember my heart pounding with excitement at this invitation. I wasn’t sure exactly what Clarice thought of me but I do know that she must have had some interest, enough to invite me to one of the highlights of her time in the US. The night of the dinner I had gotten to the restaurant very early. I was so early that I stopped into the brewery next door for a pint before dinner. I sat at the bar and remember feeling nervous. When the bartender brought me my beer he asked how I was doing and I explained my situation. He said wow! I think you really like her, I think you might end up marrying her. Marry her? I had just met her! But there must have been something special about the way I spoke about her. As the nerves subsided, I headed over to the restaurant where I met up with Clarice and some of her friends. It had been quite some time since I had been out in a setting with people from different settings than my own. I was excited, I quickly eased into my social mode and had a lot of fun chatting and laughing and enjoying the group. I remember the whole time thinking about whether or not Clarice was into me. I wanted her to be so badly and I believed I thought it was all going well. She awkwardly said goodbye to me. Little did I know this would be the last time I would see her for over a year.
The next few months were filled with very long conversations of texts. I love Clarice's ability to fire off 25 messages in 15 seconds. She made me feel important, she was always eager to respond to me. At this point I knew she liked me. At this point, I was about to move back to New York. I had made promises to Clarice of seeing her throughout the summer, of taking her to baseball games, etc. As the summer months passed by and as I secured a new job and began to process my new life out of the seminary, I began to push Clarice away. I knew she intended to go back to Dubai and I didn’t want to deal with the hardship of losing her. So I ran from opportunities to see her. I ran from these opportunities for a year. I liked her so much but didn’t want to feel the hurt of having her leave the US. I prayed a lot about what I had done to her and I felt terribly about it. It wasn’t right, there was no excuse for it. But still, for all the important things that happened in my life, she was there. She liked my posts, texted me, called me on my birthday, she was always there even when I wasn’t.
Fast forward to July of 2019. Clarice told me that her move back to Dubai was happening soon and that she would like to see me before she went back. I said yes and I wanted to see her. I was nervous that I would end up blowing it off as I did the rest of my attempts to see her. But to my delight, Clarice met up with me in New York City on July 9. It was a perfect day, a sunny day, the kind of day that I was hoping to have with her. When she got off the bus I was in awe of her beauty and I was actually filled with nerves. The nerves subsided when we went for Breakfast. I love that it is so easy for me to talk to Clarice, she just understands me. We were talking as if no time had gone by without seeing each other. She was even comfortable enough to take food off my plate, shamelessly! I actually thought it was cute. After breakfast we headed downtown by foot to the World Trade Center. I wanted to see the memorial of the Twin Towers and Clarice and I both wanted to go to the top of the Freedom Tower. The walk was great and for the first time in forever, I felt as though I had a girlfriend. My attraction for Clarice was increasing, that yellow dress she wore was perfect! At the top of the tower we had some stranger take a picture of us. Neither of us knew but I think both of us felt that this was going to be the picture that we would look back on frequently. After what was a magical time at the top of New York City, we came back down to the ground and headed to lunch. I was a stranger to Indian food and Clarice wanted to remedy that. We got in the cab and headed uptown to a place called Dhaba in a place referred to as “Curry Hill.” The cab ride was enjoyable, the background set by the smell of cologne and the sound of club music did not interfere with the wonderful eye contact Clarice and I had the entire time. I reached over to her a few times because I wanted to put my arm around her. I remember being both nervous about doing that and confident in our conversation. It was in this conversation that I began to learn a lot about Clarice’s family. She had gone in depth about many of her family members and I already knew that I wanted to meet all of the people in these stories.
When we got to the restaurant, Clarice flew through the menu and nearly instantly knew what she wanted. I asked her to order because I was so unfamiliar with the menu. As we waited for the food, Clarice continued this wonderful story about her family and then I told her that I would love to meet all these people one day. I could see in her face that she was excited about what I had just said. When the food came out we prayed and she was so excited to tell me about what was what and she was even happy to introduce me to Indian beer. I was happily taking it all in when she looked up and said, “You know, if we get married…..” Whatever she said next I can only recall glimpses of. But this was it. This was the evidence that proved to me that she was interested. I was stuck in that moment because this is the same girl who has shared with me all of the stories of instances when she has rejected guys or felt uncomfortable around certain men. This one line helped me to realize that she must be comfortable with me and that there is going to be a lot more to develop from this. It was all I could think about, I could picture it in my head. I envisioned what it would be like to be with her and it brought a lot of peace to me. She is wonderful for me; she’s beautiful, intelligent, Catholic, she really has it all and this is the woman I had been praying about for so long. When we left lunch I was on cloud 9. I didn’t care what we did next. Anything would have been perfect. We went and prayed at St. Patrick’s Cathedral and it was beautiful because I knew that this is the kind of woman that God wanted me to have. After our prayers we headed down to Times Square and sat on the famous red steps and took pictures like the tourists that we were and weren’t. It was magical, I finally had the chance to get comfortable next to her and I felt like she was very interested. Then before I let her leave me we went for a drink. I introduced this Indian girl to Irish whisky and it was hilarious. It was nice to see that she had a bit of a wild side. I never wanted the day to end. It was perfect. I didn’t want her to leave and I was doing everything in my power to show her that. On the walk down to the bus terminal I gently put my arm around her back, I did this several times and retracted my arm quickly out of nervousness each time. After going to the wrong place and then finally getting her to the right bus I hugged her goodbye. It was the hardest goodbye I ever said in my life. I quickly walked away, I didn’t watch the bus turn because I was running to a spot where I wouldn’t be seen. I felt the tears welling up knowing that the girl that I liked the most would be leaving the US soon, would be going back to Dubai. I’ll admit it, I cried because I had never felt that conflicted in my life. Later on that evening, I remember texting my cousin and telling him that I think I’m in love with some girl from Dubai. The entire day replayed through my head vividly for hours and once again I was on the couch beating myself up because I didn’t speak up for how I felt. I wasn’t direct. I was afraid of being hurt so I just sheltered myself. That night she texted me that she was back safely. I didn’t know that this would be the start of something big.
The next day I was on my way back into the city to meet up with a friend. Just before I left she texted me. Much to my pleasure she asked me how I felt about her. I asked her to tell me first since she asked but then she persisted and told me to go first. I went first and got it all off of my chest and admitted my interest from the moment I first saw her and that I’m still interested. The feelings were reciprocated. I knew then and there that we would have to make this work because it was way too good to let go. So we began to speak about how to turn what we had into a relationship. I told her I would be “relentless” and I think she really appreciated that. I’m not sure if I knew what I meant when I said that but I wanted to be relentless. No matter the difficulty we would endure with all of the distance between us, I wanted to give this every ounce of my energy.
For the rest of the summer Clarice was on the same time zone as me. Up in buffalo with her cousin preparing for her last exams here. It was great to start our relationship from the same time zone. It gave us time to talk everyday, to watch bollywood movies, to get to know one another. Everything was going well until it came time to see her again. I was supposed to go up and visit her and I began to second think it because I was fearful I was making a mistake and getting myself into something I couldn’t live up to. I think she felt similarly. What were we doing? How was this going to work? But even after a failed attempt to see her, our conversations continued. It was time for her to go back home in early September. The regret of not seeing her sat so deeply in me that I was depressed at the fact that I had missed my opportunity. She went back, I sulked, I tried to figure out what I was going to do. Part of me told me to just end it but every time I thought about that I felt this horrible pain in my soul. I knew that would have been a cop out and I was tired of my copping out so I pushed through and kept pushing along. Speaking with her and praying with her. Experiencing her joys and sorrows and trying to be supportive of all of who she was from afar. It was difficult. I didn’t realize that it was so difficult for her too. One weekend she was acting shady, ( it was not my best weekend either for other reasons). She tried to break up with me and I fought back. We got back on track and things were good again until the first weekend of November. She tried to break up with me again. This one crushed me. She was being a stubborn witch (drop the w add a b) and I did not realize what she was trying to push away from her life. I fought for myself, I fought for us, I was relentless in the midst of her BS. This time I was liberated by throwing a fit via text that would have been loud enough verbally to shake a small city. I was completely drained mentally, physically, verbally. My mother was worried about me and angry with this girl who she had never even met. She was mad that Clarice would be like this to me twice despite how much I was investing into it. My mom encouraged me to move along but I just couldn’t and I wouldn’t.
Clarice decided again to give it more of a chance. She recognized that this was far from over. She knew how different and unique our relationship was. I like to think that because this relationship is centered on Christ that it is one worth saving no matter how hard the situation is. I think God has blessed our relationship eons before we even met. We pressed on, we moved on. Now it was time to talk about the next time I would see her. I made the decision that I would go and see her in February or at Easter time. (Thank God we settled on February because of Covid). There was so much to figure out. Travel plans, how her family would receive me, how I would adjust to her culture, etc etc. Before I even met her family I was starting to realize just how difficult it would be to date an Indian girl. I would be dating her whole family, I would be hidden until everyone knew at once, The list goes on. There were times that I hated it. I took it personally, it was uncomfortable, it was scary. There were times when I just wanted to quit. But I didn’t quit because as soon as I clicked the “book ticket” button on the Emirates website I was committed to going there for a visit. The countdown began in late November to travel to her house on February 13 and get there on Valentines Day. I missed Clarice so much I thought about her all day every day. Everything about her made me happy including the music and the movies she exposed me to. I listened to Indian music more than the cab drivers of nyc. I was hooked because I was hooked on her. I couldn’t wait until the end of every school day to send my students out so that I could see Clarice’s face. As the time for closer to make the trip we planned and planned what we would do. The excitement was brewing in me. I felt like a kid on December 1 just waiting to open the gifts under the tree on the 25th but this feeling was happening for over 130 days. I thought I was going to explode from the anticipation. Time is funny because it takes forever in the waiting phase and then when you think back on it it’s like a snap of the fingers. When I finally got off that plane in Dubai and saw her again I felt like time stood still. I nervously looked around for her in the lobby and asked her what she was wearing. I scanned the crowd of people searching for a color palette of black and green. When my eyes finally met that combination of colors, I looked and saw her face. In the sea of people around us it was as if no one else was even there. We were both nervous, we had so much to talk about, so much to figure out, but there was an overall peace that animated our reunion. We got to the car and could not wait any longer to exchange our Valentine’s Day gifts. She gave me a beautiful hand made card and a flower and I was smitten. Finally, a real Valentine’s Day experience with someone who I could call mine. We were in the car for so long enjoying the moment that the parking meter timed out and we had to pay more before we could exit. When we finally got out of the parking lot we headed straight for our date at La Mer. I was instantly impressed by the beauty of the place and was so eager to sit down and finally enjoy time with my lady. It had been so long and this place was just perfect for us. She picked the perfect little restaurant to welcome me to Dubai. Arabic food and hookah. The food was excellent but the company was even better. I was finally able to reach across the table and hold the hand of the woman I loved. The walk around La Mer after dinner was filled with selfies and hand holding. Holding Clarice’s hand was magical. We had a learning curve because intimacy had been out of my life for the longest time and Clarice was a “novice” to it. I remember how cute it was as we tried to get a feel for how this whole hand holding worked. Hugging her was amazing!
Clarice and I knew that this was going to be a very fast week so we had so many plans packed into one week. I was introduced to Clarice’s world, her life in the Middle East and the beauty of her culture as an Indian. We saw both the new and the old parts of Dubai, went on a desert Safari, experienced the many gardens of Dubai, watched the sun rise from the top of the Burj khalifa, sat on the rocks of the persian gulf outside of Atlantis, we really did it all. But the best part was just being able to spend time with Clarice. I was nervous to meet her parents, I had heard so much and even though I knew that they are wonderful people, I was worried about how they would accept me. I knew I had already caught them off guard insofar as I am not Indian and that I was traveling to see their daughter. They knew about me and they knew I was coming but I don’t think the reality of the situation hit until I finally walked into their house. All things considered (the fact that I am dating their daughter, that they didn’t know all that much about me, that I am white, that I am not Indian, that I am dating their daughter(yes, I said that again), I think I was well received. Yes, there were times of awkward silence but I did my best to break through.. The topics we spoke about were about family and background but did not go into too much depth and then for the sake of guarding ourselves we spoke about either the Faith or mundane things. But this was good because it allowed me to start to find my comfort zone with them. I needed to get to a certain level of comfort so that I could ask “dada” the big question. I was warned, I was told again and again that I would be marrying the whole family but I just did not understand what that meant. When I finally got the courage to speak to dada about my intentions with his daughter, I did not realize the scene this would be. “Anita! Clarice! Come here now! He is talking about his feelings!” Well I was about to and I was making myself vulnerable enough to talk to the father (who I just met) of the girl I want to marry. I am sure my face was as red as the reddest of tomato based curries and I felt the sweat welling up under my arms. I was scared. I did not know that Clarice was on the throne. She took forever and as I faced both her parents I just began to talk even though she was in the bathroom. “So how do you feel about me and Clarice?” they had known me for 4 days. Met with blank stares and gasps for air my legs began to tremble. Thank God I was seated. Clarice finally came out from the bathroom and I sighed because I was relieved that I was about to have some back up. “So, what have you said” she asked and I was frozen in fear and could not really express what I had said in that eternity of a moment. I left her to guess at what said and didn’ say, but the gist was clear. I had asked if I could marry her. Mama nearly fainted, dada got quiet. Mama said she felt awkward. Dada finally said, well you are both from the same Faith. Mama interjected, “But he isn’t from the same culture”. My fears were coming true. I know I am not Indian but why does that matter. Yes, I have a lot to learn but it is a great thing! I want to learn, I want to understand. I will never be Indian but Clarice knows that and appreciates me as I am. That is what matters. “Give it time” the good old dada standby. “You are the olympians” (whatever that means). Yes, I am in love with Clarice and yes I have traveled across the world to see her but I recognized that this is a father who really cares about his daughter and a family that wants their daughter to be loved authentically and cared for above all. It takes time for parents to consider if their daughter’s boyfriend meets those criteria. As the week went on I think that Peter and Anita recognized that I did care for Clarice above all and that I did love her authentically but I know they were interested to see how this relationship would play out. Clarice and I were interested to see how this relationship would play out.
Leaving Clarice and her family was the hardest thing I have ever done. Just one week with the woman I love was not enough. I was in pain. The feeling I had as I approached the airport was a terrible one. I was not ready to leave Clarice and be separated from her again. We had no way of knowing how long it was going to be until we could even embrace each other again, it was pure agony. Clarice hugged me goodbye and as she left the airport, the tears were welling up in my eyes and I could not even watch her leave through the doors. I stared ahead at the line for the check out desk fighting back tears. When I got on the plane I continuously looked through our pictures and told myself that I needed to be with her again as soon as possible. Getting back into work mode that first week was nearly impossible because all I could do was play the entirety of my time with Clarice on a loop in my mind. February quickly came to an end and the beginning of March was brutal. I wasn’t feeling well, I was tired, I had pains in my neck, the world was frightened about the novel coronavirus that was quickly spreading throughout the world. Before we knew it, the world was a different place. COVID-19 put the world into a tailspin, it hit me hard, but Clarice and I strengthened. If there was any light for me in the quarantine caused by COVID-19, it was the fact that I got to speak more frequently with Clarice throughout the day. I knew that I had to be with her again so I began the agonizing process of looking for work in Dubai. With hundreds of applications out and time quickly passing by, it was starting to look like I was not going to find work here. I was worried. But, finally, after a great deal of persistence, I was able to get a job teaching English at Al Maaref Private School in Dubai. This opened the door for me to travel to Dubai, a chance to finally be with Clarice more permanently and work our way toward marriage.
God has blessed us in this wild journey of a relationship that truly spans the world. It has been hard but it has been beautiful. I love Clarice above all and now that I am here I can really feel the love that her family extends to me. They are so supportive of us and they are excited about our marriage. Just after a few weeks of being here and adjusting to life in Dubai, I hit my first speed bump. I lost my job after just two weeks due to a severe under enrollment at the school. I know that I will find a job and I know that nothing will separate Clarice from me again. God has a plan for us and I know that it is a beautiful one. I will continue to be relentless! There is so much more to this story that is unwritten and there is so much more to be written.
I love Clarice Mendonca!!!
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