For the past several weeks, I`ve been searching for a way to describe the past two months of living and volunteering at a mission in north-western Mexico. Apparently, with it almost being a month since my last post, this has been a struggle for me. I`ve come to realize it’s impossible to easily summarize such a multi-dimensional experience, with all its inevitable highs and lows, and innumerable ways it has changed my life (many of which won’t likely become evident until I return home). There is no perfect word, no singular story or allegory, no way I can adequately convey the themes, or meanings, or events of the past eight weeks. Instead, allow me to share in the only way I can think of:
Ad lib: A dominant theme since being here has been mastering the art of ad libbing. FFHM is an organization that almost entirely depends on its volunteers and donations – so when resources are low, we need to improvise. Few of us are actually trained for the positions we fill, so the prevailing mantra is “we do what we can, even if we don’t always know what we’re doing.”
Black mould: During my first five weeks here, I discovered just how bad black mould is for your health! I had to move out of the house I shared because my room was covered in it.
Celebrating: It’s a method of self-care when surrounded by poverty and sadness. Dwelling on the unfortunate circumstances – the unemployment rates, the destitution in the migrant camps, the lack of educational opportunities – is not sustainable. Instead, I’ve learned from the more veteran staff members here to celebrate the good times: birthdays, the small and large accomplishments of the children we work with, a sunny day off…
Devotions: This is how all staff members here start the work day, for an hour each morning. It’s been a great opportunity to reflect on life, grow spiritually, and come together in fellowship with people from other departments I otherwise interact with minimally.
Escuela: Spanish for “school.” I spend a semester away from university, yet I still find myself inside a school all day! Regardless, there is something special about the escuela I work at, since the children genuinely appreciate the teachers and opportunity to learn here. The learning centre is an absolute joy to work at. Every child there has stolen my heart, even though I can’t communicate with some of them due to language barriers or their mental/physical incapacitations.
Finite: Since being here, I’ve come to realize that being finite is being human. I am subject to bounds and limitations, just like everyone else. I know the lessons I’ve taught at the learning centre haven’t always been particularly enthralling or life-changing for the kids; that I’ve been disoriented or confused and then subsequently messed up. But humanity is about making mistakes, and learning to become comfortable with our flaws & imperfections.
Guava. Officially my new favourite fruit.
Handprints: One warm February afternoon a few weeks ago, all of the children from the learning centre left their handprint in the cement sidewalk (a new building for the learning centre is being constructed & will officially open later this spring). These children are the hub of this place; the purpose for FFHM’s existence; and the reason why my time here has been so special – so seeing them all leave their handprints on the face of this earth was incredible.
I: One of the most over-used words there is. How many times in a day do we say the word ‘I’? It’s all about my interests, my needs, my perspective, my way. Being here has been a refreshing experience, as I’m surrounded by people who are not volunteering at FFHM on their own mandate, for their own purposes – but rather to serve both people and God. I’m inspired by the people here whose lives are completely driven by the desire to serve, genuinely expecting no glory or benefit for themselves.
Jicama: Have you heard of this vegetable before? Native to Mexico & South America, jicama is a lumpy, whitish cousin of the sweet potato. I had it for the first time in a fruit-and-veggie salad – it tastes much like a regular potato.
Karma: What goes around comes around. FFHM has blessed so many people in this impoverished community of Vicente Guerrero, but it receives blessings right back. Short-term staff members’ lives are changed in only a few weeks by being here, and end up serving at FFHM for years.
Letters: It’s hard to feel lonely when I have such incredible family and friends. Thanks so much to everyone who has put the thought, time, and love into sending me a letter (or an e-mail!). I feel so supported and encouraged. Award for the most letters received definitely goes to my parents (I love you both so much!), but the award for the letter from the furthest country (Ghana) obviously goes to Sarah (I love you so much, too!).
Menudo: A type of traditional Mexican soup, made from the stomach of a cow. I love being immersed in a new culture, but as a vegetarian, there are just some things I can’t quite bring myself to doing…
Networking: It’s a small world. Rural Mexico is the last place I would’ve expected to make connections with people who have heard of my hometown of Langenburg, Saskatchewan; who have met several of my relatives living in B.C.; who know people I’ve taken university classes with. Since being here, I’ve spoken with fellow Swedes and Norwegians about lefse and lutefisk; I’ve oohed and ahhed over how beautiful it is to drive through northern Minnesota; and I’ve even been able to discuss the wonders and horrors of tree planting to a couple whose son planted in Alberta for two years. With new visitors coming to volunteer at FFHM every week, I certainly haven’t been short of networking opportunities!
Outreach: I make weekly trips with the outreach team to migrant camps in the surrounding area, which has undoubtedly been an eye-opening experience. Work is scarce in Mexico, so families often migrate according to field work opportunities. This tends to deprive children of a formal education, as they are often left unsupervised in these camps during the day while their parents seek work in the fields. The houses are dilapidated, and don’t always have locks, so men freely enter them at night to rape girls and women. Dogs, turkeys, and rats roam about, spreading disease. We can’t fix everything, but part of our mandate is to show the children in these camps true love and affection, which they are starving for. It has been one of the main highlights of my time here.
Pacific Ocean: Only about three or four miles away from where I live (although the drive feels long, if you know anything about Mexican roadways…)
Quesadillas: A personal favourite. Mexican food really does taste better when it’s authentic!
Religious conflict: A common characteristic of southern Mexico, to the extent of home and crop burnings, beatings, and even murders. Like most ideological conflicts, this is a complex issue I’ve been seeking to understand my entire time here. Many native Mexicans that work at FFHM have left southern states (especially Oaxaca) to escape the conflict and practice their faith freely in the Baja, which is more religiously stable.
Simplicity: Life is simple here. With fewer material distractions, it’s easier to focus my time on what truly matters to me. I love that everything I brought with me fits into my backpack; that one small laundry load washes everything I own. If I do find myself in need of anything, I thankfully live in a tight-knit community that borrows and lends incessantly. It’s refreshing to be reminded that I can survive off of so little.
Trailer: Due to the black mould situation mentioned earlier, I’m now living in my own trailer. I’ve had 8 different roommates in 20 months, so it’s been a treat having a place to myself.
Umbrella: Would’ve been ideal to have here, since it’s rained the past two weekends (rain boots, too…) Oh well, live simply, right?
Victories: Some of my greatest memories here have been moments where one of my kids at the learning centre triumphed in some new area. Last Thursday, Julia rode a bike entirely by herself for the first time. Having been her primary caregiver for the past two months, I was absolutely elated – it was the most beautiful victory I’ve witnessed here.
Wheelchairs: Have you ever noticed how inaccessible our world can be for some? It is not a very accommodating or friendly place, especially for half of the kids at the learning centre who have spent their entire lives in a wheelchair. I admire the physical and mental strength of these children, who regularly deal with frustrating technical malfunctions, such as getting their wheelchair stuck in the sand (it is the desert, after all), or the emotional agony of watching their peers running and jumping and enjoying their childhood.
Xenophobia: Fear of the foreign – other cultures or belief systems – is a mighty destructive thing. I’ve encountered a handful of people here who reject ideological or cultural ‘outsiders,’ and it’s painful to see. Being open-minded and accepting is one of the best gifts I think you can give someone.
Yield?: Mexican drivers tend to misread ‘stop’ signs as ‘yield’ signs around here (if they even brake at all…)
Zapata: A town just a few miles north of here, named after the agrarian reformer Emiliano Zapata, who inspired the Zapatista Army of National Liberation – which is of great political interest to my inner geek.
