Saturday, August 6, 2016

Memories // Recuerdos

This year has moved and touched me in ways that I would have never expected. I learned to love new people, new places and a new culture, and be loved by new people. I learned to see divine in the ordinary, and beauty in unexpected places. I saw pain and injustice, but also the resiliency of humankind and the strength of people fighting for justice. I gained a love for Mexico and a new appreciation for the United States. I was welcomed with open arms in Mexico, and as a result, I gained new family and close friends. I am tremendously grateful for the people that helped send me to Mexico and supported me throughout the year. I am equally as grateful for the people in Mexico who loved me and made this experience such a rich, life-giving year. Love to all of you whether in Central America, Mexico, the U.S. or Canada.

The following contains events – both one-time events and recurring events – that stick out to me from my year in Mexico. Memories, emotions and senses – both beautiful and displeasing – that taught me and defined my time in Mexico…

hearing so many different beautiful greetings and variations of my name

         Gustavo: “Jeoooooooorgshhh!!!”

         Cristian: “¿Que pedo, Yosh?... Mucho pedo, Yosh?”

         Gema: “Hola Yeshua”

         Mamá Oliva: “Niño Josh”

         Norma: “¿Donde andas, Joshua? ¿Porque tan tarde?... Ay, Joshua”

feeling of contentment as I eat pan dulce and drink café with la familia

not knowing what to feel as I clean and change Gustavo’s gunshot wound after he was randomly shot by local police while riding the train northward

mourning with la familia on new year’s eve as we reflect on the shortness and preciousness of life

bursting out in laughter with Catherine as we watch Luis sing alongside mariachis as if he were part of the group at Karla and Annie’s fiesta

sobering feeling as Gustavo tells us shelter staff that we are his first real friends – the first people that have not used him for money or other ulterior motives to get ahead in life

feeling peace, love and contentment as I eat almuerzo of memelas, tamales and tacos with la familia on calm Saturday and Sunday mornings

Mamá Oliva making cecina & memelas //
Mamá Oliva preparando cecina y memelas
anger of finding out that Mexican immigration agents entered the safe zone around the shelter to detain a migrant…

rage of finding out that they proceeded to beat up the migrant and throw him out on the side of a road

feeling like shit when I tell Enrique y Jorge that I cannot help them out with the $600 it would cost to get from Piedras Negras, Mexico to the U.S….

sinking feeling when I find out that Enrique has not heard from his son Jorge since Jorge tried to cross from Mexico into Texas three days before…

dread when a month passes and we still haven’t heard from Jorge…

relief and gratitude when, over two months after his disappearance, I learn that Jorge is alive in an ICE detention center in California

tap of the bus attendant, waking me up to ask for the $18 bus fare to Apizaco on my way to work…

voice of bus attendant, waking me up to ask for the $18 bus fare to Tlaxcala on way home

recognizing the beauty of a life lived simply as I taste my first pulque on a ranch filled chickens and cows, as I visit Jaqi’s family in Aquixtla and drink pulque

Caminata en Tlaxco con mis amig@s  // Hike in Tlaxco with friends
anger at Mexican man who asks me why I am not sleeping with Mexican women

he says “they would love a piece of white man”…

sobering feeling when he shares that “Mexican people are racist against themselves”…

“Mexican people are brainwashed to believe that white skin and blonde hair means happiness, beauty and wealth…”

recognition that nearly everyone on television and in movies in Mexico is white

giddy feeling of buying two scoops of ice-cream for only ten pesos

hearing the gas truck wake me up each morning with its blaring horn and advertisement, “gas central de Apizaco… el gas que rinde más!”

hearing Tío Noe egg me on to ride the really tall and steep slide at El Rollo (waterpark) for a fourth time…

turning teasing right back on Tío Noé, who hadn’t ridden the slide once

listening to man migrating talk on phone to daughter as she cries and asks “when will you be coming home, Dad?”

hearing the tamale man walk up and down the streets of Apizaco each morning yelling, “tamales, atole…”

sinking feeling of learning that Ángel (our loving volunteer nurse in the shelter) passed away at the young age of 29

feeling emotional as I realize that Karina – who was not being paid at the time because of dwindling shelter funds – generously used her own money to buy tortas for the 90 people in the shelter when we ran out of food

tasting the flavors of longaniza, suadero, nopales, cebolla, pico de gallo, salsa verde, and salsa roja blend together as I eat campechano tacos with my friends John, Kari and Jaqi …

making sure that everyone else at the taco stand knew that I believe Marco, Sebastian and Josefina’s tacos are the best tacos in the world

watching romantic movies on Netflix with Mamá Oliva in the evening

admiring the tall trees, vendors and peaceful atmosphere as I walk through the Zócalo of Tlaxcala

Tlaxcala con las Jacarandas // Tlaxcala with the Jacaranda Trees
admiring the beauty and history of Tlaxcala spread below me as I stand at the top of the steps overlooking the city

reflecting on the sound of cicadas and crickets in Texas, remembering the beautiful mountain trails in Colorado, and admiring the present beauty around me as I run through the bosque in Tlaxcala

hearing Don Facundo’s loud voice as he announced the prices of his fruit in the market…

feeling the love of Don Facundo’s big smile and hearty laugh each Wednesday that we visited the market
 
Market Scene // Escena en el Mercado
hearing the whistle of the express pot pressure-cooking beans

hearing the lady selling gelatina ask me “¿vas a chambear, güero?” each morning as I entered the bus station in Tlaxcala

seeing the masculine-centered language of the Bible become much more noticeable to me in Spanish when “Lord” is translated to “Señor”

listening to the deep, rich voice of our Apizaco taxi driver give us a private concert after I ask him about his Mariachi and Norteño singing

feeling the warm embrace of my sister Annie as she hugs me

hearing Tío Socrates attempt English as he leaves the house, saying “See you tomorrow!” or “See you later!”


All these memories and emotions from my home life and work site in Mexico blend together for me. They are all defining moments of joy, sorrow, anger, love, peace, or beauty that touched me this year. In one way or another, each of these recuerdos is profound and sacred.

I will miss these moments, events and memories, and more so, the people that made each of these memories and so many others. I mourn not being with these friends, familia and loved ones. It is for these reasons that I omitted the concreteness of periods and the capital letters that follow periods. Leaving out this definiteness serves as a balm as I come to terms with the fact that this year and experience has ended. It also resembles the way in which these experiences bleed into one another and into my life after my time as a Young Adult in Global Mission. These moments have changed and shaped me. These are the memories, the tastes, smells, sounds, sights, and feelings that I will carry with me long after my time in Mexico has ended. These are the moments that will live on forever.

 
Making Pan de Puerto with friends // Haciendo Pan de Muerto con amigos

Este año me ha movido y tocado en una manera que nunca habría esperado. Aprendí a amar a nueva gente, nuevos lugares y una nueva cultura, y ser amado por gente nueva. Aprendí a ver la divina en lo ordinario, y la belleza en lugares inesperados. Vi el dolor y la injusticia, sino también la capacidad de recuperación de la humanidad y la fuerza de la gente que lucha por la justicia. Gané un amor por México y una nueva apreciación de los Estados Unidos. Me recibieron con los brazos abiertos en México, y como resultado, gané nueva familia y amigos cercanos. Estoy tremendamente agradecido por la gente que me ayudó a ir por México y me ha apoyado durante todo el año. Estoy igualmente agradecido por la gente en México que me amó y me dió un año de experiencias ricas, un año de vida en su sentido más grande. Mando amor para todos ustedes en Centroamérica, México, EE.UU. y Canadá.

Lo siguiente contiene eventos – unos que pasó una vez y otras que son periódicos – que fueron importantes durante mi tiempo en México. Son recuerdos, emociones y sentidos – ambos bellos y desagradables – que me enseñaron y determinaron mi tiempo en México.

escuchar tantos diferentes hermosos saludos y variaciones de mi nombre

Gustavo: “Jeoooooooorgshhh!!!”

         Cristian: “¿Que pedo, Yosh?... Mucho pedo, Yosh?”

         Gema: “Hola Yeshua”

         Mamá Oliva: “Niño Josh”

         Norma: “¿Donde andas, Joshua? ¿Porque tan tarde?... Ay, Joshua”

sensación de satisfacción cuando como pan dulce y bebo café con la familia

sin saber que pienso cuando limpio y cambio la herida de bala de Gustavo después de que le dispararon la policía local mientras viajó en el tren hacia el norte

lamentar con la familia en la víspera de año nuevo al reflexionar sobre la brevedad y el valor de la vida

sonreir con Catherine mientras vimos a Luis escucha al lado de los mariachis como sea parte del grupo durante la fiesta de Annie y Karla

sensación humillante cuando Gustavo nos dice el personal del refugio que somos sus primeros amigos verdaderos - las primeras personas que no lo han utilizado por dinero u otros motivos ocultos para sacar adelante en la vida

sentimientos de paz, amor y satisfacción cuando como un almuerzo de memelas, tamales y tacos con la familia en los Sábados y Domingos tranquilos

el enojo cuando descubro que la migra Mexicana entró la zona segura alrededor del albergue para detener un migrante…

el furor de descubrir que siguieron a golpear el migrante y tirarlo en el lado de la calle

sentimiento feo cuando les digo a Enrique y Jorge que no puedo ayudarles con la cuota de $600 dolares estadounidenses para cruzar de Piedras Negras, México al gobacho…

sentimiento de desesperación cuando descubro que Enrique no ha esuchado de su hijo desde Jorge intentó cruzar la frontera por Texas hace tres días…

el pavor cuando pasa un mes y todavía no hemos escuchado del Jorge…

alivio y gratitude cuando después de dos meses desde su desaparación, apriendo que Jorge está vivo en un centro de detención en California

la toca del ayudante del bus para despertarme para los 18 pesos para mi camino a Apizaco de ida a trabajo…

la toca del ayudante del bus para despertarme para los 18 pesos para mi camino de regreso a Tlaxcala después de trabajar

reconocer la belleza de una vida simple cuando pruebo el pulque en un rancho con gallos y vacas, y cuando visito la familia de Jaqi en Aquixtla y bebo pulque

enojo a un hombre Mexicano cuando me pregunta porque no estoy durmiendo con chicas Mexicanas…
        
         dice “les gustaría un pedazo de gringo”…

sentimiento de tristeza cuando me dice “la gente Mexicana están racistas contra su misma raza”…

“Mexicanos han estados convencidos que la piel güera y cabello rubio son equivalentes a la felecidad, belleza, y riqueza”…

reconocimiento que casi toda la gente en la tele y en películas Mexicanas son güeros

sentimiento de felicidad cuando compro dos cucharas de helado por solo 10 pesos

escuchar el camióneta de gas despertarme cada mañana con su claxon y adverticio “gas central de Apizaco… el gas que rinde más!”

escuchar la molestia de Tío Noé cuando no quiero bajar el tobogán grande por una cuarta vez…

         molestar a Tío Noé que no ha bajado el tobogán una sola vez

escuchar a un migrante habla en el teléfono con su hija que llora y pregunta “¿cuando va a regresar, pápa?”

escuchar el hombre de tamales caminar las calles de Apizaco cada mañana gritando “tamales, atole,…”

sentimiento de tristeza cuando escucho que Ángel (nuestro enfermero amaroso que siempre sierve con una sonrisa en el alberge) se falleció al edad jóven de 29 años

sentido humillante cuando me doy cuenta que Karina – quien no estaba recibiendo sueldo por la falta de fundos en el albergue – usó su propio dinero generosamente para comprar tortas para la 90 personas quien estaban en el albergue cuando acabó la comida

probar los sabores de longaniza, suadero, nopales, cebolla, pico de gallo, salsa verde, and salsa roja corren juntos cuando como tacos campechanos con mis amigos John, Kari and Jaqi …

decir a toda la otra gente en el puesto de tacos que creo que los tacos de Marco, Josefina y Sebastian son los mejores del mundo

ver películas romanticas en Netflix con Mamá Oliva en los anocheceres

admirar los arboles grandes, los vendedores y la tranquilidad del Zócalo de Tlaxcala cuando camino por alla

admirar la hermosura y la historia de Tlaxcala cuando estoy encima de las escalinas

recorder el sonido de cicadas y grillos en Texas, recorder los senderos hermosos por las montañas de Colorado, y admirar la hermosura alrededor de mi mismo cuando corro por el bosque de Tlaxcala

escuchar el voz fuerte de Don Facundo cuando anuncia los precios de su fruta en el mercado…

sentir el amor de la sonrisa de Don Facundo y su grán risa cada Miércoles en el mercado

escuchar el silbo de la olla express cocinando frijoles

escuchar la mujer que vende gelatina me pregunta “¿vas a chambear, güero?” cada mañana cuando entro la estación de bus en Tlaxcala

dar cuenta del enfoce masculino en la Biblía cuando traduce “Lord” en Inglés por “Señor” en Español

escuchar al voz hermoso de nuestra taxista Apizaquense cuando nos da un concierto privado después de preguntar sobre su canto de música Mariachi y Norteña

sentir el afecto de mi hermana Annie cuando me abraza

escuchar Tío Socrates decir en Inglés cuando sale de la casa, “See you tomorrow!” o “See you later!”


Todos estos recuerdos y emociones de mi vida en casa y trabajo en México se mezclan para mí. Todos son momentos determinados de la alegría, la tristeza, la ira, el amor, la paz, o la belleza que me han tocado este año. En una u otra forma, cada uno de estos recuerdos es profundo y sagrado.

Voy a extrañar estos momentos, eventos y recuerdos, y más aún, extrañaré las personas que me hicieron cada uno de estos recuerdos y tantos otros. Lo lamento no estar con estos amigos, familia y seres queridos. Es por estas razones que he omitido la concreción de los períodos y las letras mayúsculas que siguen períodos. Dejando de lado esta definitud sirve como un bálsamo como llego a aceptar el hecho de que este año y la experiencia ha terminado. También, muestra la forma en que estas experiencias sangran uno en el otro y en mi vida después de mi tiempo como un adulto joven en la misión global. Estos momentos me han cambiado. Estos son los recuerdos, los gustos, olores, sonidos, imágenes y sentimientos que voy a llevar conmigo mucho tiempo después de mi tiempo en México ha terminado. Estos son los momentos que vivirá por siempre.





Saturday, July 2, 2016

Lila Downs


La semana pasada, mi tía me preguntó ¿Qué aprendiste aquí en México? ¿Qué vas a llevar contigo? La pregunta fue demasiada complicada para contestar de una vez. He aprendido tanto este año. He aprendido del camino de migrante y de injusticia entre las relaciones de EEUU con México y Latina America. He aprendido a amar nueva gente, convivir con mi familia, acompañar mi familia y amigos, gozar la vida de nueva forma, y más. Siempre estaré en deuda a mi familia y amigos Mexicanos que me han enseñado tanto este año, y que me han dado nueva vida.


Para contestar la prequnta de mi tía he decidido compartir esta entrada en mi diario de 2 de Marzo. Escribí en el albergue durante un día lluvioso. Esta entrada comparte un poco de las cosas que amo y admiro de México y también de la pena que he visto en partes de México – pena que a veces resulta de los acciones de mi país, los Estados Unidos.
 

Anoche, Lila Downs tuvó un concierto gratuito en el Parque de Apizaco. Fue financiado por el gobierno de Apizaco en honor del 150 aniversario de Apizaco. Nunca había escuchado a Lila, pero fui porque otros amigos míos iban ... y era libre. Un par de miles de nosotros se reunieron en el parque frente a la gran catedral ... Eventualmente,… La música empezó y Lila apareció. Yo me quedé impresionado por la música. Lila tenía la más increíble voz que jamás he escuchado. Parecía que penetra hasta el centro del alma. Ella llevaba un vestido tradicional mexicana y se movía con tanta elegancia. Parecía llevar un aura de sabiduría y gracia. Su voz fue acompañada por un hermoso arreglo musical: un saxofón, trompeta, acordeón, battería, congos, el cajón, y un par de guitarras.


La música de Lila cantó a mi alma. Fue estéticamente excelente. Música de calidad. Y el contenido ... oh el contenido. Lila cantó una canción dedicada a todos los periodistas que han perdido sus vidas de información veraz en México. Lila se dirigió al hecho de que existe una enorme corrupción en esta nación. Cantó una canción sobre el hermoso nacimiento de México y una canción que nos da esperanza de que esta nación una vez más será restituido a su belleza como un lugar de paz. Junto con su potente voz, Lila mostró a sí misma ser fuerte - una mujer feroz. Cantó en el dolor de un amante de engaño, de pie a la cultura machista que prevalece en México. Ella cantó sobre el mezcal y el tequila, sobre la planta de maguey. Bailó en su vestido tradicional solo y con guey gueys. Ella cantó sobre el cacao - las raíces de esta planta en la cultura indígena, su belleza, y su sabrosura. Cantó sobre mole y su bello estado de Oaxaca.


La actuación de Lila me recordó de todo que me gusta de México. Me acordé de inmenso agradecimiento de los mexicanos por su patrimonio, especialmente sus raíces indígenas. Mexicanos respeta y admira a estos antepasados: su sabiduría, su modo de vida, su cultura, sus costumbres, su comida, el cacao y el maíz y el pulque. Ellos respetan la conexión de sus antepasados tenían a la Tierra. La pureza de su forma de vida. Sus antepasados sirven como un ideal de libertad de la tiranía, el imperialismo y el colonialismo, ya que vivían en una época antes de que México fue colonizado y oprimido por los extranjeros y sus sistemas económicos y religiones.


Me acordé de la apreciación de los mexicanos para la dualidad de la vida: el sol y la luna, los vivos y los muertos, etc. La manera en que al mismo tiempo, estas cosas coexisten. La manera en que estas cosas no son contrarios, pero trabajan juntos en el ciclo de la vida. Lila me recordó de la belleza de este ciclo de la vida y cómo dependemos de la tierra y sus frutos: el maíz, cacoa, maguey, chilé, café. Me inqueté ante la idea de que los cultivos modificados genéticamente, Mansanto, y el resto de gran agro-negocio amenazan con hacer que esta forma de vida extintas. Amenazan con eliminar las especies nativas de maíz en México. Amenazan con eleminar dependencia de la tierra y sus frutos. Amenazan con eliminar la herencia, la historia, y la conexión con el pasado y presente y futuro aquí en México.


El canto de Lila me recordó que la lucha es real en México. La corrupción siempre está presente. El pecado está siempre visible. Narcos que matan a los que están en su camino, que matan a l@s que dicen la verdad, y dividen familias y comunidades. Los traficantes de personas que seducen a la gente a través de mentiras, a continuación, l@s secuestran, y los venden a hombres córneos en todo el mundo. Los funcionarios del gobierno que sólo trabajan por dinero y poder, que trabajan con los narcos, que ayudan en la desaparición de personas. Las empresas transnacionales que se aprovechan de los Mexicanos que trabajan duro y seguirán dando su sudor y sangre, incluso cuando la paga es escasa y el tratamiento es deshumanizante. Agro-empresas transnacionales que roban el trabajo de los agricultores locales, que amenazan con borrar la manera de vida de Mexicanos y la dependencia de la tierra. Un vecino del norte que está siempre interfiriendo en los asuntos de México, aprovechando la mano de obra Mexicana, empujando a México a obedecer sus deseos, el tratamiento de México como inferiores, menor que y exportar una idea de México de que la felicidad está en otra parte: la felicidad está al norte, la felicidad es música pop de Estados Unidos, la felicidad es de estilo y la moda, la felicidad es blanco. La felicidad está en el otro lado de un muro, un desierto, un río, montañas, cámaras fotográficas, cámaras de detección de calor, sensores de movimiento, checkpoints, armas y agentes de la patrulla. La felicidad se le prohíbe a usted.


Es tan facíl creer esta mentira.


Es tan fácil pensar que la felicidad está en el otro lado, sobre todo cuando está pobre y con hambre y no se puede mandar sus hijos a la escuela. Si supiera que el pasto/césped no siempre es más verde al otro lado (hay un dicho en inglés ‘el pasto es más verde en el otro lado.’ Es decir que siempre estamos envidiosos de lo que no tenemos). Si pudiera trabajar su tierra por un salario justo. Si no se vieron obligados a comprar semillas de Monsanto. Si no tiene que vender su tierra después del importado cosecha de maíz EE.UU. se puso fuera del trabajo. Si solamente su gobierno no había firmado el TLC, permitiendo que su medio de vida ser vendidos a los ricos gigantes corporativos del imperio más poderoso de la historia del mundo. Si sólo más gente pudiera ver esta verdad ahora sin ser cegado a la coacción sutil de este imperio. Si sólo más personas se resistieron a la novia de este imperio y sus asociados: dinero, objetos, la promesa de libertad ... Si sólo los habitantes de este imperio entendieron el coste al que se compra su privilegio y la riqueza. Si sólo ellos entienden el sufrimiento que soportar por su confort. Si sólo se pusieron de pie en señal de protesta y se unieron junto con usted. Si tan sólo se encontraban en la solidaridad, al darse cuenta de que su liberación está ligada a la suya. Si solo…


Mientras que esperamos un futuro liberado, que nos damos cuenta que todavía estamos en el presente. Mientras que la promesa de la liberación de Cristo puede parecer atrás del posible a veces, nos damos cuenta que, al menos, tenemos el uno al otro. Y debido a que estamos vivos, seguiremos luchando por un futuro mejor para nuestros hijos, para el mundo.


Mientras estaba sentado y escuché las palabras de Lila, me di cuenta de que la comunidad es tan fuerte aquí. El amor de la familia proporciona sentido para la vida. Aquí, no hay necesidad de probar uno mismo. No hay necesidad de lograr tener sentido en la vida. El propósito no se encuentra en los éxitos. Por el contrario, el propósito, significado, la felicidad se encuentran en las personas que nos rodean. Estas relaciones son más profundas y más fuertes que el logro personale. Esas relaciones son vida.


Dualidad de la vida: la vida y la muerte.
Relación entre EE.UU y México.
Relación entre mi mano y su vida. //
Duality of life: life and death.
Relation between U.S. & Mexico.
Relation between my hand and your life.



Last week, mi tía asked me, what have you learned in México? What are you going to take with you? The question was too complicated to answer in one sitting. I have learned so much this year. I have learned about the migrant trail and the injustice between U.S. relations with México and Latin America. I have learned to love new people, convivir with mi familia, accompany my family and friends, enjoy life in a new form, and so much more.  I will forever be indebted to my Mexican family and friends that have taught me so much this year and given me new life.


To answer the question of mi tía, I have decided to share this journal entry from March 2. I wrote it in the shelter on a rainy day. This entry shares a bit of the things that I love and admire about México, as well as the pain that I have seen in parts of México – pain that sometimes results from the actions of my country, the United States.


Last night, Lila Downs held a free concert in el Parque de Apizaco. It was paid for by the government of Apizaco in honor of Apizaco’s 150th birthday. Though I hadn’t ever listened to Lila, I went because other friends of mine were going… and it was free. A couple thousand of us gathered in the park in front of the big cathedral… Eventually,… The music started and Lila appeared. I was blown away by the music. Lila had the most incredible voice I´ve ever Heard. It seemed to penétrate to the center of one´s soul. She wore a traditional Mexican dress and she moved with such elegance. She seemed to carry an aura of wisdom and grace. Her voice was accompanied by a beautiful musical arrangement: a saxophone, trumpet, accordian, drumset, congos, cajón, and a couple of guitars.


Lila’s music sang to my soul. It was aesthetically excellent. Quality music. And the content… oh the content. Lila sang a song dedicated to all the periodistas that have lost their lives reporting truthfully in México. Lila addressed the fact that there is tremendous corruption in this nation. She sang a song about the beautiful birth of México and a song giving us hope that this nation will once again be restored to its true beauty as a place of peace. Along with her powerful voice, Lila showed herself to be strong – a fierce woman. She sang about the pain of a cheating lover, standing up to the machismo culture that is so prevalent in México. She sang about mezcal and tequila, about the maguey plant.  She danced in her traditional dress alone and with guey gueys. She sang about cacao – the roots of this plant in indigenous culture, its beauty, and its tastiness. She sang about mole and her beautiful state of Oaxaca.


Lila´s performance reminded of everything that I love about México. I was reminded of Mexicans’ immense appreciation for their heritage, especially their indigenous roots. Mexicans respect and admire these ancestors: their wisdom, their way of life, their culture, their customs, their food, cacao and maize and pulque. They respect the connection their ancestors had to the Earth. The purity of their way of life. Their ancestors serve as an ideal of freedom from tyranny, imperialism and colonialism as they lived in an age before Mexico was colonized and oppressed by foreigners and their economic systems and religions.


I was reminded of Mexicans’ appreciation for the duality of life: the sun and the moon, the living and the dead, etc. How at once, these things coexist. How these things aren´t dichotomous, but work together in the cycle of life. Lila reminded me of the beauty of this cycle of life and how we depend on the Earth and its fruits: maize, cacoa, maguey, chilé, café. I shuddered at the thought that genetically modified crops, Mansanto, and the rest of Big Agro-business threaten to make this way of life extinct. Threaten to eliminate the native species of maize in México. Threaten to eleminate reliance on the Earth and its fruits. Threaten to eliminate one´s heritage, one´s history, and one´s connection to the past and present and future here in México.


Lila’s singing reminded me that the struggle is real in México. Corruption is ever-present. And, sin is ever-visible. Narcos who kill those in their path, eleminate those who teel truth, and tear apart families and communities. Human traffickers who seduce people through lies, then hold them captive, and sell them to horny men around the world. Government officials who only work for money and power, who work with the narcos, who help in the disappearance of people. Trans-national corporations that take advantage of hard-working Mexicans who will continue to give their sweat and blood even when pay is meager and treatment is dehumanizing. Trans-national agro-businesses who put local farmers out of work, who threaten to erase mexico’s way of life and dependence on the land. A northern neighbor who is ever-interfering in Mexican affairs, taking advantage of Mexican labor, pushing Mexico to obey its wishes, treating Mexico as inferior, lesser-than and exporting an idea to Mexico that happiness is elsewhere: happiness is north, happiness is U.S. pop music, happiness is U.S. style and fashion, happiness is white. Happiness is beyond a fence, a desert, a river, mountains, cameras, heat-detecting cameras, motion sensors, check points, guns and patrol agents. Happiness is prohibited from you.


It is so easy to believe the lie.


It is so easy to think that happiness is on the other side, especially when you are por and hungry and cannot send your kids to school. If only you knew that the grass is not always greener on the other side. If only you could work your land for a fair wage. If only you were not forced to buy seed from Monsanto. If only you did not have to sell our land when imported subsidy-grown U.S. corn put you out of business. If only your government had not signed NAFTA, allowing your livelihood to be sold to the rich corporate giants of the most powerful empire in the history of the world. If only more people could see this truth now without being blinded to the subtle coerción of this empire. If only more people resisted the bride of this empire and its associates: money, objects, the promise of freedom... If only the inhabitants of this empire understood the cost at which their privilege and wealth is purchased. If only they understood the suffering you endure for their confort. If only they stood up in protest and joined together with you. If only they stood in solidarity, realizing that their liberation is bound up with yours. If only…


While we long for a liberated future, we realize that we are still in the present. While Christ’s promise of liberation may seem unattainale at times, we realize that we at least still have one another. And because we are alive, we will continue to struggle for a better future for our children, for the world.


As I sat and listened to Lila’s words, I realized that community here is so strong. The love of family provides meaning for life. Here, there is no need to prove one self. There is no need to achieve to have meaning in life. Purpose is not found in successes. Rather, purpose, meaning, happiness are found in the people around us. These relationships go deeper and hold stronger than one’s personal records. Those relationships are life.

Monday, May 9, 2016

The Eyes of a Perro

This past year has turned my perspective of the world upside down in many ways.

I have learned that some of the most divine things are the “ordinary,” everyday things: walking through the park, seeing the complexity of humanity in the random strangers all around me, saying hi to the lady selling the gelatina on may way to work, reveling in the group of people holding hands as we pray before la comida at the shelter, feeling grateful for the hard work that mi mamá puts into making breakfast each day.

I have discovered that mission work – at least the kind that I have taken part in – does not take place in a church, in a Bible Study, or passing out pamphlets. Many of my holiest moments this year have come over a beer with co-workers[1] or tequila shots with my host family. The only conversion that I have made this year has been winning my host mamá over to locally grown and roasted coffee beans brewed in a French Press (rather than Folger’s made in a coffee pot). I have certainly received much more ministering from family, friends and co-workers than I have given.

I have realized that spiritual language – or Christian jargon – is not so Christian when it excludes and isolates others.

I have witnessed accompaniment more in friends who are self-proclaimed atheists, academics and socialists than I ever witnessed in the church.

I have seen that working as a guía for migrants or carrying a backpack of drugs for the narcos is sometimes the most feasible way to sacar adelante, to support one’s family and improve one’s life.

I have realized that local police aren’t working to defend the public when they have target practice on migrants riding atop trains; when they search and interrogate individuals on the sole basis that they are darker-skinned.

My view of the world is more muddied now. People and things do not fit in the categorical boxes in which I used to put them. The world is too complex.

“I accused the Border Patrol agents and the agency’s over-all culture of creating an over simplified and overly harsh duality out of the complex reality of migration. Walking out of the Border Patrol station, I realized that I was equally as guilty. I walked into the station so ready to see my anger and frustration personified. I had been vilifying Border Patrol since I’d begun to learn about this issue. I had built a very clear and simple duality. Migrant=good. Border Patrol=bad. I wanted to hate her and all she stood for, but I couldn’t. She was kind, patient, human.
Part of me, wishes it could be that simple. Part of me wishes there were one singular policy or organization against which I could unleash all my energy and frustration. However, migration is interwoven into so many different aspects of policy, business and culture. The issue itself calls us out of our limited and dualistic way of analyzing issues…
Our visit to the Douglas, AZ Border Patrol station showed me one more facet of the incredibly complex issue of human migration along our Southern border. It reminded me of the critical importance of bringing humanity to what can so easily become a theoretical political or economic conversation. It reminded me that humanity should extend along both sides of the border.” –Alyssa Kaplan, my friend and fellow Mexico YAGM


I continue to default to categorizing and stereotyping. It is, after all, a tool to help our brains understand the complexity of the world around us. But, it’s not something I will live with contently. As a result of the experiences I have had, it saddens me to see us categorizing one another, labeling the other, perpetuating stereotypes, and creating division.

***

During our visit to the border, we had lunch, coffee and discussion with Douglas, Arizona’s mayor Danny Ortega one day. Mayor Ortega recalled the days when all that separated Douglas from its’ sister city Agua Prieta was a three-strand barb-wired fence. In those days, he and his friends would hop over the fence to go play baseball in Mexico. And, their Mexican compadres would come visit Douglas to play soccer. Annual bi-national horse races were held, pitting a Mexican horse against a U.S. American horse. Folks gathered on both sides of the border, bringing their tamales, hot dogs, and cerveza. It was a time of community, and celebration.

Lunch & Discussion with Mayor Danny Ortega, Cristobal Lohr Castelo
of the Mexican Consulate, and café owner Robert Uribé.
Check out Galiano's Café & Smoothies if you are ever in Douglas, AZ.
Photo Cred: Frontera de Cristo 

The government never asked the residents of Douglas – and certainly not the residents of Agua Prieta – before constructing the wall. They just built it. The wall divided families, hurt the economy of Douglas, and separated the bi-national community.[2]

The border wall created dichotomy. One side was labeled as good, the other bad. One innocent, the other criminal. Fear was struck in our hearts, dividing us from one another. (Todd Miller as quoted in Martin, 2016).[3]

***

We complicate life so much sometimes.

We debate the wall. We debate immigration.

Will letting immigrants in hurt us economically?
What are the social and political effects of accepting immigrants into our nation?

Sometimes we make a mess of things, and just need to remind ourselves to view the world with the eyes of a niño.

South side of the border, looking north.
Photo Cred: Gracia Johnson

What makes her different from me? Why can I visit her in her country, but she can’t come to visit me in mine? Why is there a wall to keep us from playing ball together?

As I stood a few feet south of the border wall contemplating these things, the little dog accompanying us crossed between the posts in the wall (about six inches wide) into the U.S. We whistled and laughed. The dog had no idea that what he was doing was “illegal.” He had no idea that this line in the sand separated one nation from another. Wiggling his tail, he strolled down the Border Patrol’s dirt road, sniffed around a bit, then came right back.

 El Cachorrito (perro)
Photo Cred: Gracia

My heart was warmed. I thought to myself, why can’t we see the world with the eyes of a perro?

***

Gracias a Dios, there are people working to muddy the dichotomy, unite the nations, cross borders, and build community. Mayor Ortega shared that many who work and go to school in Douglas live on the Agua Prieta side. City officials in Douglas are given healthcare in Agua Prieta. Bi-national artwalks and concerts are hosted along the border wall. Douglas provides fire-trucks to Agua Prieta. The two cities are organizing a teacher exchange program. It’s just a start, but it’s something. There is hope.






[1] My co-volunteer and American friend John (who has his MSW and is currently a Fulbright scholar researching Central American migrants in Mexico as a part of his doctoral research in Anthropology) told me that he most feels like a social worker when he talks over a beer with our co-workers in the shelter. It is in these moments that they are finally able to express their true feelings about our work in the shelter and air out frustrations. It is in these moments that we hear one another’s lives, hold one another’s complaints and struggles, and encourage one another to persevere in this work – work that John calls today’s equivalent of the Underground Railroad.
[2] Douglies relies economically on the consumption of citizens of Agua Prieta, Mexico. While about 20,000 live in Douglas, around 100,000 people live in Agua Prieta. These Mexican citizens are hungry to have access to things not available on their side of the border, and things like milk, gasoline, phones and computers that are substantially cheaper in the U.S. Today 65% of Douglas’ city budget comes from sales taxes. Of these taxes, 75-85% are paid by Mexican nationals. The numbers were even higher before, but now stricter border regulations prevent Mexicans without some sort of visa from crossing the port of entry.
[3] Martin, A. (2016, February 11). The Empire's War on the Border - Full Documentary //
Empire_File018/19 [Video file]. Retrieved from https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=e94K30251MI