Lunch left them almost speechless

Tight control over access to delegates who ate with pontiff reveals only morsels of meal of a lifetime

By GRAEME SMITH, The Globe and Mail
Saturday, July 27, 2002

It almost happened that way. The sun was shining yesterday afternoon when two busloads of journalists pulled up alongside the satellite trucks and camera tripods set up at Marina Del Rey, a private dock near Orillia, a 1½-hour drive north of Toronto.

World Youth Day organizers had handed out descriptions of the delegates, each prepared with his or her interesting story: One is a rock musician, one has Palestinian roots, another planned to perform his traditional African Maasai dance for the pontiff.

Cameras caught the images as the boat carrying the young people from Strawberry Island chugged into the harbour. Broadcasters began their stream-of-consciousness patter: "It was pouring rain, but now they're at the front of the boat, smiling, the sun has come out, and they're a happy group of people and we're about to hear from them."

But when Vatican spokesman Dr. Joaquin Navarro-Valls climbed off the boat and began to describe the luncheon, journalists shouted that they couldn't hear him. Radio reporters winced as their audio was contaminated by the wind, the crunch of gravel and the jostling of a media pack pressed against yellow police tape.

Already frustrated by a false rumour that they would gain access to the island, reporters were kept away from the young lunchers by a line of Ontario Provincial Police. Their interviews from behind the police tape were cut short as the group was bundled onto a bus.

Officers had to restrain reporters who pressed around the bus door, trying for one last quote.

Some of the hand-picked Catholics said it was a bizarre scene.

"The media encounter was pretty crazy," said Emanuel Pires, 22, an architecture student at the University of Toronto. "I didn't expect that many people would want to hear my opinion."

In the end, most newscasts relied on images shot by Vatican cameramen on the island. The short quotes from the young delegates didn't reveal much: They arrived on the island, waited a bit, then filed past the Pope to kiss his ring.

They sat at a rectangular table in a kitchen with a fireplace, and the Pope said grace. They had spaghetti, asparagus and coleslaw. The Pope ate without assistance and finished every morsel. They talked about the countries from which they came: Canada, Germany, India, the United States, Sudan, China, Kenya, Australia, Peru, Jordan, Bosnia-Herzegovina and Tahiti.

Then they sang a capella songs such as Here We Come, Here Comes the Sun and Take Me Home, Country Roads. The 21-year-old from Kenya, Daniel Kuntai, did perform his Maasai dance but had to go outside so he could jump properly without hitting his head.

"Each person sang something from their own country," said Frank Sinclair, a 25-year-old musician from Toronto who gave the Pope a harmonica. "People joined in, and I think the Pope started singing along."

Asked about the experience, Anneke Pehmoller shrugged.

"It was exciting," the 20-year-old German said. "Well, I was excited before, but then when I met him it was," she paused, "it was okay. He's a normal person. You know, he's the Pope, but he's human."

Someone tossed a question to Mr. Pires: "Did you have one of those epiphany moments?"

He paused. "Um, I think so."