He has scuffed work boots and dirty nails and hears confession from
dealers and hit men. When residents spot his trashed 4x4 bumping down
dirt roads, they call out his nickname: "Charly!"
He spends most of his time addressing practical rather than spiritual
problems. That means navigating governmental bureaucracy, helping
immigrants obtain state identification cards and finding beds to get
addicts off the street.
"If we don't get people a home, it's insane to think about other kinds of lives for them," Olivero said.
So far this day he had talked to the directors of two state
hospitals, attended a brainstorming session with other slum priests and
handed out fliers about a religious festival for the neighborhood's large community of Paraguayan immigrants.
As he left to prepare for that evening's wake for the addict, he suddenly remembered something.
"Oh," he said, bringing his hands to his head. "I have a wedding tonight!"
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