Re-visiting the Borgia series

I could REALLY get into the hypocrisy of the entire set-up which has existed for thousands of years... but will not.

Except for one memory which came up for no good reason, except that it was triggered by a scene in that.

MY father is a wise man. My maternal grandmother really pressed him to send me and my brother to a private Catholic school. And he refused, for which I thank him muchly. I would have been proficient in French as well as English, but a lot of kids who came out of that school became very damaged emotionally.

(Let's face it, the whole school system was so fucked up, there weren't any good alternatives, other than maybe the private ones in the rich part of town. But if you were inquisitive, and really thirsted for knowledge, there was a chance of getting by.)

Somewhere along my chasing knowledge and academic achievement, I lucked into something momentuous which would shape my life. A scholarship. I'd paid into a programme, got to where I thought I'd paid everything, and I WORKED 80 hour weeks to GET it... except it wasn't enough, and on arrival, I learned I had to pay way more than I had ever expected.

For the dorm, and food, and it was so beyond my means, when I heard it, I was flattened. And deflated. And said, 'I'm sorry, I can't DO this. I thought it was all taken care of from what I paid, but I can't do any more.'

I think it was the first time I felt the taste of ashes in your mouth, saying that, and being so defeated.

Except: the heads of the programme put their heads together, and said, 'We are giving you a grant, and will cover the rest, and you will stay, it will be covered by the German government.' (It was a summer school in which I could cover two semesters in eight weeks... and intensive, but that is what I wanted.)

I was asked if it would be a PROBLEM sharing a room in the dorm. And thought, WhAAAA?

It was like winning a lottery, hey.

So I got shown to my dorm room, and there was a young priest there. Blonde, wholesome looking, and groaning about the work load he'd gotten, novels stacked sky high, he was working for his doctorate.

I didn't pay much attention to him, was so thrilled that I could BE there, y'know? And he got 'itchy', uncomfortable. And I asked if anything were wrong, and said I'd do my best not to disturb him because it really looked like a huge work-load for an eight week course, and said I would study downstairs in the lounge if he needed the quiet...

(Gawwd was I naive...)

Fifteen minutes later he was downstairs, checking out, saying the work load was too much for him, and he disappeared. There were lots of subtextual things happening which I only realised later. However, I later came to think it might have been me, and I just as well might have been the devil. Although, I wasn't THAT attractive... it was weird.

Instead, I ended up with a body-bulding fanatic in my room who was wealthy and from Chicago doing his second round at trying to learn German. John. He drove everyone nuts that summer. But was so insecure under all that muscle. And was terribly confused about his sexual identity, I felt bad for him, not realising that I was as fucked up as he was in that regard.

I found friends, passed with flying colors, and ended up with a recommendation which got me out of my prison in a town I hated and out into the world.

I never learned what happened to the priest, but my sense of being 'uncomfortable' stayed with me.

I was so naive, and not ready for what religion and stuff was about. I read tons of books. Lived in my mind, and wasn't dumb... except reality always wasn't what I was looking at, and that wasn't a good thing. Reality was ugly, at least mine was, so I chose to espcape it by reading everything I could get my hands on.

But am grateful that my parents shielded me from some of the horrors of life. And that I never got confronted by anyone predatory, or abusive. I probably wouldn't have survived it emotionally.

It was sort of horrible to read a few years ago that the diocese I grew up in filed charges against one hundred priests. It wasn't a big diocese. So I guess I have them to thank for keeping me naive about some things, being protective and all, until I was ready to deal with things, and that came much later.

So no, I don't like priests, and the series sort of creeps me out. Sue me.