Pope Francis and the papal cap that flew away

 

After traffic-snarling dry runs of protocol-dictated arrival choreography, little was left to chance for Pope Francis' first steps on Philippine soil. But what greeted him was a moment that could not have been rehearsed. 

 

As a roar of applause accompanied his dramatic exit from his plane, after he teasingly looked out the window for several minutes, a sudden gust of wind blew off the papal skull cap. Pope Francis grabbed at the empty air as his cap disappeared downwards out of the TV frame. 

 

I was watching the event with a crowd on a small TV at a GMA News remote point along the papal route on Roxas Boulevard. As the cap flew away, the applause and shrieks of glee turned into gasps, then laughter. 

 

I had expected one of the papal aides to immediately return the cap, called a zucchetto, to cover his rarely seen naked head. Surprisingly, he stood capless with President Aquino while the two national anthems were played. The Pope and PNoy then completed two long receiving lines, including a row of bishops in their red caps, before the cap was finally returned to him. 

 

This incident, a charming touch of serendipity as a Philippine force of nature meets a human one, made me do a search on the papal skull cap, which some websites irreverently call a "beanie." 

 

The Pope always wears a white zucchetto, cardinals' caps are scarlet (or light red color), and bishops wear amaranth, more of a red-rose hue. The cap is part of the Pope's formal dress, and he always celebrates mass and performs most other official duties wearing one. In so doing, the hatted Pope is like spiritual leaders of other faiths, including rabbis, imams and mumbakis. 

 

Pontiffs often give away their zucchetti (plural), usually as a keepsake to other prelates. But Pope Francis has proven to be a cool cat even in the realm of papal giveaways. Last September, according to the Agence France Presse, the host of an Italian satirical TV show went up to him during a St. Peter's Square crowd interaction and asked for his cap in exchange for a new one bought off the shelf in a retail store. He agreed to the swap with a laugh, and the show proceeded to put up the papal hat for auction on eBay to raise funds for a charity. 

 

I looked up a trove of images of Pope Francis and nearly all of them showed his head covered. So his first photographs in the Philippines — hugging kids, shaking hands, standing at attention — will show him in a highly unusual appearance, which may make future historians chancing upon the pictures wonder what happened to his cap. 

 

But what did happen to his cap? His spokesman, Father Federico Lombardi, said at a press briefing Thursday night that he did not know what happened to the zucchetto that flew away, and that they always travel with extra ones. Could a lucky prelate (or airplane mechanic or presidential guard) now be in possession of it? Did he personally ask the Pope for permission, like the Italian TV host? We'll probably know in the next several days. 

 

The pope known to spring surprises encountered the unexpected himself as he soon as stepped into the breezy Philippine night. After days of rain forecasts, the Pope arrived in the Philippines in perfectly dry  weather, perhaps the most pleasant surprise of all. —JST, GMA News