don’t need you, you might go help Father Monroy in his parish until I get plans lined up for you.”
Oscar’s posture sagged, and the bishop added, “Don’t worry, Oscar, you will become a priest. Our country desperately needs priests, and you’ll be a fine one. This period of waiting and uncertainty may be God’s test of your resolve.”
The year passed, and Oscar received no definitive news from Bishop Dueñas about his future. But in 1937, the bishop instructed Oscar to enroll in courses at the Jesuit seminary in the capital city.26 While Oscar was there, his father died on August 14, 1937, the day after his fifty-fourth birthday and the day before Oscar’s twentieth. The death resulted from Don Santos’s despair over the loss of his land and livelihood when he was unable to repay a loan he had borrowed during the difficult Depression years.27 He had also begun to drink heavily to dull his pain.28
Personal Loss
In his grief, Oscar wrote:
Everything, my God, speaks of sadness, of weeping. . . .
My father is dead! Dear Father, I who each evening turned my gaze to the distant east, sending you my loving distant thought, would think of you on the porch of the home I remembered, . . . would see you turning your gaze to the west where your son was. . . .
Only the memories remain, memories of childhood . . . I still see you one night waiting for us to return with Mother from our trip to San Miguel, waiting with a toy for each of us made with your own hands. . . .29
There was yet more sad news from home. Oscar’s mother suffered a malady, likely a stroke, which disabled her right arm and side. The paralysis would limit her activities for the rest of her life. Oscar, worried about his family’s future, wished he could hurry the day when he’d be working as a priest, earning a salary, however meager it might be.30
Bishop Dueñas eventually sent a message to Oscar. The bishop had been granted scholarships at the Colegio Pío Latino Americano in Rome and would send Oscar and his classmates Alberto Luna and Mauro Yánes to study there.
“I chose you three because you’re intelligent, with common sense and the willingness to work hard,” the bishop told the trio when they met to discuss plans. “And because you’re all healthy and hardy.”
“Why’s that so important?” Mauro asked.
“Rome gets cold in the winter. We Salvadorans are used to our subtropical sun. When we spend extended periods in Italy, many of us return with long-term respiratory problems. I need robust priests here because, as Jesus told his disciples, ‘The harvest is plentiful but the workers are few.’”31 The bishop looked over the young men, his eyes intense. “You’ll also need emotional fortitude, especially if events in Europe continue to heat up. This man Hitler in Germany seems determined to rile up people. Did I tell you he made an appearance at the three-hundred-year anniversary of the Passion Play in Oberammergau?”
They nodded. Indeed, the bishop had told them about the 1934 event, a great outdoor pageant held every ten years. Bishop Dueñas had taken his nephew, Oscar’s good friend Rafael Valladares, and Abdón Arce, another San Miguel preseminarian, on his reporting trip to the Vatican that year. Rafael and Abdón stayed to study for the priesthood in Rome. They had stopped to see the famous theatrical production in Oberammergau, Bavaria, on their way.
“Adolf Hitler was named Germany’s chancellor the previous year.” The bishop dabbed his sweaty brow with a handkerchief. “He swooped through the town in an open black Mercedes, swastika flag on its front fender, to scattered cheers of ‘Heil Hitler.’ Hearing support for him chilled me. He stayed for the day-long performance and afterwards shook hands with the main actors.
“That Hitler’s a hatemonger and a rabble-rouser. Under the Versailles treaty, Germany’s forbidden to rearm itself, but that’s exactly what Hitler’s doing. Let’s pray he doesn’t march Europe into another war.”
To Rome
In late 1937, Oscar, Alberto, and Mauro boarded an Italian liner for Rome.32 The ship soon anchored at a port in northern Venezuela, where another young man headed to Rome boarded.33 Eighteen-year-old Alfonso could hardly tear himself away from the extended family members who came to see him off.34
Oscar, second from right, aboard the Orazio. (photo credit, Zolia Aurora Asturias and Eva del Carmen Asturias)
Oscar, wanting to ease the grieving newcomer’s transition, introduced himself. “Would you like to see your berth?”
The distressed youth nodded.
“Come. I’ll show you.” Oscar led the way to their bunks.
The next morning at breakfast, Oscar sat with Alfonso and offered to help communicate with the waiter. “That’s burro in Italian,” Oscar said, pointing, and the two boys laughed. Who would have thought the Spanish word for either donkey or stupid person meant butter in Italian? Oscar picked up an apple. “Mela,” he said, and Alfonso repeated it.35
Oscar, Alfonso, Mauro, and Alberto were four of about a dozen young Latin Americans crossing the Atlantic for seminary studies under Jesuit professors at the Gregorian University. Also aboard were some twenty priests and monks, as well as the nuncio of El Salvador.36
“Want to see the movie with me?” Alfonso asked Oscar one evening.
“I’m going to say the rosary on deck, if you’d like to do that instead,” Oscar replied.
“Maybe some other time,” Alfonso said as he headed to the theater.
Besides inviting others to pray the rosary in the evenings, Oscar assisted priests with two or three masses each morning. His devotion to spiritual matters became obvious to other passengers during the eleven-day crossing.
Once in Rome, the Latin American seminarians made their way to the Pontificial Colegio Pío Latino Americano, a fifty-year-old three-story building.37 The neoclassical edifice, a city block in size, next to the Tiber River and close to the Vatican, served as both a home-away-from-home and a structured learning environment for the students who lived in it under the guidance of Jesuit priests.
After a three-year separation, Oscar was thrilled to meet up again with his friend Rafael Valladares, who offered to show the newcomers around. “Your new home is spacious, as you can see,” Rafael told them, “but it’s drafty. So it’s too hot in summer and too cold in winter. As you’ll find out soon enough.”
Rafael showed them the dorms and the classrooms. “We attend our course lectures at the Gregorian University, but often the real learning
