It was hard to believe that anyone who lived in Chiclayo, Peru, was not lining its streets on Friday.
As the motorcade of Pope Leo XIV, who has been in South America for over a week, made its way through the city that he calls one of his homes, an almost unbroken stream of people stood by the roadside, waving, holding signs and clutching white and yellow balloons, the colors of the Vatican flag.
The last time many of them saw him, he was “Padre Robert” — Father Robert — but now they jubilantly welcomed him back as Papa Leon.
A month after being diagnosed with cancer and undergoing surgery to remove a lobe of his right lung, Leo arrived at the destination that made this 12-day tour of Uruguay, Argentina and Peru a true homecoming.
For eight years, Leo — then known as Robert Prevost — served as bishop of Chiclayo, a coastal city where he is remembered for working side by side with the Red Cross during devastating floods or driving for hours to get to parishioners in the highlands.
When he stepped out on the balcony in St. Peter’s Square after being elected pope last year, the one community he mentioned was his “dear Chiclayo.” It was while serving here that he became a Peruvian citizen.
After his plane landed Friday morning at an air base, Leo stepped onto a red carpet and greeted several dignitaries with hugs, rather than his typical handshakes. While a brass band played and dancers performed a traditional “marinera norteña,” a folk dance from northern Peru, the pope stood watching, his face crumpling slightly as if he was trying to control his emotions.
Before Leo arrived, a construction worker died on Wednesday while working on an arc meant to welcome the pope. A spokesman for the diocese of Chiclayo did not return a request for comment about the death.
On Friday, the authorities estimated that about a million people lined the streets of a metropolitan area with a population of less than 900,000. Another 500,000 people, some of whom had staked out a spot the night before, gathered on an open dirt field near a fishing village outside the city, standing for hours under an intense sun to celebrate morning Mass with the pope.
“The Chiclayan pope!” yelled some of the faithful who stood behind barriers. Others hailed Leo like a soccer hero, chanting “Olé, Olé, Olé.” Hawkers sold pope-themed keychains, calendars, T-shirts, photos and posters with Leo’s image, while red fire trucks drove through the crowds spraying people with water to keep them cool. Two men carried a large portrait of Leo they had made using bottle caps.
To secure a spot on the field where they could see the pope, Miriam Chávez, 38, from Chiclayo, and her three children had camped out since midnight. “We didn’t want to miss him,” she said. “He’s worth the wait.”
The pope’s visit, said Cristian Velázquez, 28, came at a crucial time for the city, given “there’s a lot of crime, hunger, and people left to fend for themselves.”
Mr. Velázquez was joined by a dozen fellow motorcycle delivery workers who had images of the pope on the thermal backpacks they used to carry goods. He said that he was worried about the damage that the El Niño weather phenomenon might inflict and hoped the pope “blesses everyone, because right now, more than ever, we need faith and peace.”
When Leo arrived to the Mass site, his pope mobile circulated swiftly through the crowd but missed a large section, prompting a stream of people to rush into a path that led to the stage. Police and a group of volunteers wearing saffron yellow T-shirts clasped arms to create a barrier and push them back before the start of the Mass.
But as the service started, a hush settled over the crowd and the people welcomed their pope home with the sound of “Amen,” rippling across the field.
