Mexico City 2011

August 8, 2011 - How to Tell the Story

How to tell the story? Debrief in Mexico City centered around story-telling (I suppose that's because the summer is centered around story-listening). How will you tell the stories you heard? the staff seemed to ask.

During debrief, the staff asked us to plan a 3 second, 1 minute, 5 minute, and 20 minute response to the inevitable and dreadful question: "How was your summer?" In our small group, we joked that our 3-second response while passing someone would be "It was great! Saw a lot of monkeys!" just to confuse them and incite more questions. While we had a good laugh over the whole thing, it makes me a little sad, thinking that monkeys would be more intriguing than a more grounded response. The second part is that I'm saddened by the need for a 3 second response because it rings so true in my life. During the school year, I often only have time for a 3-second response.

Herein lies my biggest culture shock. In Mexico, we worked fairly hard, and the people around me worked very hard. But if possible, relationships came first. The day we were set to leave Armonia, we began to clean the community center and apartment. We had planned on doing so. But twenty minutes in or so, Gabi stopped us. "Let's go get the food for lunch. Don't worry about the cleaning, I'll do it once you guys leave. I’m going to show you how to make meatballs!” she said with a smile.

This is typical of the kinds of lessons that Gabi has taught us about relationships. She sets aside schedule, work, or puts more work on herself in favor of spending time with us, or sharing even a modicum of joy. I doubt Gabi has given 3 second responses to anyone in the past year. In fact, I've always seen her stop and talk to people on the street, even some people she didn't know. When it comes to people, and to most of life, the rush stops.

I contrast this with my first hour back in the states. My connecting flight was leaving in less than an hour, so I dashed (well, stood impatiently in line) through customs with Jonathan (fellow blogger!) and power walked madly up towards security.

At security, the guards told Jonathan to go to another line. I jumped in my line while waving goodbye absently (yep, no hug, no pause. Sorry Jonathan). Another guy in line started chatting with me, but with ten minutes before my flight left I bolted as soon as my shoes cleared, yelling "Have fun at Disneyland!" (that's where his family was going).

Good news is, I made my flight and got home safe. But the whole time, I was thinking "Welcome back to the US. This is your time and schedule-oriented life."

I don't want it to be.

While I may have failed in the airport, I want a life free of 3-second responses. I want to be unsatisfied with them. And I pray that as I transition home that no one will need to drop the word monkeys just to catch my attention.

So.

How was your summer?

Just kidding. Thanks for reading!

-Elizabeth

August 4, 2011 - Pray for Someday

Tonight, I had my first McDonald's since returning from the Trek. My meal cost me seven dollars, while a plate at a sit-down restaurant in Mexico City would be easily under five dollars. This morning, I went to church for the first time in a month and a half, since we spent time sight-seeing on Sundays with our host family. None of my college peoples are back yet, but plenty of my brothers and sisters are. It's good to be back, but strange. My mom brought back souvenirs from a camp nursing job she had at UCLA. I haven't been downstairs in our house yet. That's where the TV is and I just have not really bothered. This month, I need to get ready for school, write thanks you notes, work, and write. Those are all good things that my I want to do, but they are so different from what my host family and the people we worked with at World Vision will be doing.

Through the Trek, I learned more about what it looks like to be poor.

Our host father works from five in the morning until ten at night on a good day. He is a great father, making the most of the few hours he has at night with his daughter. He's been robbed just riding the bus.

These are things I have yet to experience and probably will never have to unless I move into a slum.

I learned about my own pride and reconciliation. My staff worker and I had a lot of tension over how to interact with each other and the Mexican culture around us and I judged her for her way of thinking. I had to learn to forgive and ask for forgiveness in that friendship.

I'm glad to have her as a friend now.

I did not commit to the Trek call, to serve among the urban poor for two years, but I hope to fulfill it anyways. I needed more time than the Trek gave me to make that decision and I needed my fellowship around me again to listen to what they will have to say. I love Mexico City and maybe I'll visit again someday. Maybe God will even call me to serve there. I'll be praying with him about that. I can't wait to feel the same way about some other slum as I do about Tulpetlac, on the north-east side of Mexico City.

Thank you all for supporting us by reading our blogs, praying, and helping with money! This was all possible thanks to God and thanks to you.

-Jonathan

August 3, 2011 - Video Update

Here is the ACJU Summer Dance Workshop Performance of this dance that is also featured below. The text below the video is a transcript from the end of the video below, posted by Albert, participant in the Mexico City Trek. Watch and see these students perform powerfully and symbolically.

"This performance took place at the closing ceremony of a 3-week summer program in Chimalhuacan, Mexico. Most of the students of this hip hop dancing workshop had never participated in a choreographed dance prior to this. Through hard work and dedication, they were able to perform a dance that was based on the story they wanted to tell…

The story revolves around the harmfulness of drugs, alcohol and the loneliness of youth as they hide behind a false identity. The removal of the bandanas from their faces symbolized the liberation from these evils, allowing them to express their true selves.

To practice their self-expression, the last minutes of choreography consisted of moves they created on their own. The dance ends with the full removal of their bandana, symbolizing the casting of their burdens completely." - Albert

July 24, 2011 - Seeing the Future and Free Alcohol or Alcohol Free

Guest blogger Kevin Ryan worked alongside students at the Servant Partner site in Mexico City and wrote this entry about his experience. To read more of his blog, visit here.

There are very few times in your life when you can see your own future, but when you do it is sure to change something. Do you know the story of Alfred Nobel? The story goes that when Alfred’s brother died the newspaper mixed up his life with his brother’s, so one day while drinking his morning coffee he was able to read his own obituary. To his dismay he was remembered for the destruction and devastation associated with his most famous invention dynamite. Instead of destruction he wanted his life to remembered for peace so he went on to invent the Nobel peace prize.

I had a similar (yet admittedly less profound) experience yesterday as it was the InterVarsity team’s last night and we had a going away fiesta for them. To be honest, over the past week I have been looking forward to returning home. It was not that I was not enjoying my time here, it was more that I was caught up in thinking that when I return I only have less than a month at home before leaving for South Africa. The fiesta last night changed that mindset completely as that will be me in two weeks having to say goodbye. Last night I was able to see, from the testimonies of the people in the community, the impact that the InterVarsity team was able to have and what it meant to the people here. Through their sharing I was able to see the deepness of the relationships they were able to form in the four short weeks they were here and it made me realize that I have the opportunity to do the same. Not only that, but this community and the people in this community are some of the most amazing people i have met in my life. As we were dancing everything from Salsa, to Meringue, to Usher and other American club music, to punk and everything in between, for about 2-3 hours, in the hot and sweaty community center, with people from all ages and all types of backgrounds it began to sink in how special these people are and how I need to take advantage of every opportunity I have in the remaining two weeks to take it in. On a side note if you were wondering where the second part of this title comes from, its because i was asking my roommate from Guadalajara why they don’t have fiestas like this on a more regular basis to keep kids off the street. He replied that they do and they have free alcohol. I found this a strange technique for a Christian organization to embrace and he must have seen it in my face, because he quickly replied, “wait no it’s alcohol free!” It’s a completely understandable mistake because directly translated from the Spanish is would be free alcohol, but its a good reminder to be careful how I translate things here lol. Here is a little taste of the fiesta….

I am extremely sad that I couldn’t share my last two weeks remaining here with the InterVarsity team. They were three of the most amazing people I have ever met and I hope our paths can cross again sometime. The first day I was here, as i arrived half way through church service, I remember spotting three young people across the way and thinking that they could be the IV team, but they all fit in pretty well so I wasn’t sure. After service they came up and introduced themselves (well two of them did) and then they introduced the third as their community liaison who only spoke Spanish. I continued for the next 10 minutes or so talking with them and politely talking with the Spanish speaker as much as I could making a fool of myself talking about the food, weather, or anything I could remember from Spanish class five years ago until they finally cracked and admitted that she spoke English too and was actually from California. That was the start of an amazing three weeks with the team where they welcomed me as one of their own and helped me feel at home here. They were three amazingly unique people who always knew how to have good time but also continually challenge me to learn more about myself and take more away from this experience. It’s funny because for the first week they kept saying that they saw me as this semi-older person who was taking time to be with them but in reality they taught me so much about how to enjoy life, interact with the people here, process what I was seeing, and seek God in everything, that they acted as my mentors. I am thankful for the three weeks i was able to spend with them and I pray that they bring the same love, joy, enthusiasm, and wisdom to wherever they go and to whoever they meet in life.

July 29, 2011 - Mexico City Blog, Graffiti Edition

Mexico City Trek blogger Yolanda Romo introduces her Graffiti students and shares what they're up to at the Servant Partners site in Chimalhuacan! She, along with two other students from the Global Urban Trek, are partnering with a summer youth program Servant Partners is sponsoring.

Her particular class of students will be graffiti-ing a wall that expresses their thoughts, reflections, and hopes for their community. The students are currently working on perfecting their contribution to the mural. They are also learning art, spray painting, and graffiti techniques.

The theme is: "Your Voice, Our Voice: Expressions."

Check out the video!

July 28, 2011 - The Treasures in My Closet

My closet is full of jackets and shoes, and I don’t use about half of them. I buy clothes without trying them on, and if they don’t fit or I don’t like how they look oh well. I get rid of clothes I´ve never worn since I bought them. I buy a new sweater if I´m cold because I’ve forgotten mine at home. I constantly throw out rotten vegetables from my fridge (which I´m fortunate to have) that I never even took out of the grocery bag. I eat out as I´m pleased, as I crave, and if I´m lazy to cook. I wash dishes with the water running the whole time because running out of water is an unrealistic idea. I have an extra refrigerator that´s empty half the time. I shower as though the oceans water were at my command. I have health insurance and access to a doctor which I never use. I confess I miss class often. I buy in multiple colors. I purchase so I can have a variety, what to choose from. I buy technology as I´m pleased, even if I already have a fully functional thingy-ma-bob, or having two won´t hurt. If I want it I buy it. I don’t look at prices. The list is just getting started.

Imma speak a truth I can´t escape from. As an American, I´ve been living in sin and have been blinded of it. The things I call blessings are a disguise of me gorging in on resources for lacking countries. I cannot have lived in Chilmahuacan, Mexico for the time I have and not see the wrong in my lifestyle. I say I am blessed.

I am more than blessed. I consume.

According to dictionary.com, the word consumption is synonymous with misuse, destruction, damage, decay, waste, decrease and gluttony. Of all the words on this list, gluttony catches my special attention. Gluttony is the act or practice of eating to excess (dictionary.com), but food can be replaced with material things in this case for our understanding. As the “great Christian” I am, I know gluttony is a sin. Ah why yes, it is!

Why yes, it is. It is gluttony that I´ve lived with. I consume for my furnishing conveniences. How can I say God has been blessing me and give Him the image of a depriving God to the rest of the world in need? Living in simplicity and a home that comes across many needs and restrictions, I´ve been forced to face my reality and see where I´m more than blessed, where I´m gluttonous.

Clearly, I am no one to judge. I simply invite you to look into your life and check your privileges, check your consumption, and check your heart. Because, one thing is to be blessed, and another, to devour. Where is Jesus tugging to your rich young ruling heart, calling you to let go of your possessions, to be just to the poor and store your treasures in heaven? We are to be held accountable in this matter, for this sin is no lighter than any other. For the poor are God´s children whom He defends in fury.

Let the King one day answer to us: “Come, you who are blessed by my Father, inherit the Kingdom prepared for you from the creation of the world. For I was hungry, and you fed me. I was thirsty, and you gave me a drink. I was a stranger, and you invited me into your home. I was naked, and you gave me clothing. I was sick, and you cared for me. I was in prison, and you visited me.” – Mathew 25:34-36

-Yolanda

July 26, 2011 - Conviviendo

This is a call to incarnational ministry, right? It’s a really high-flown term for the simple question that materializes on the Trek: Could I serve here, or in a community like this one, for my whole life?

In Spanish, the word “convivir” means literally “to live with,” but to me, it always sounds like more of two paths overlapping for a time, responsibilities coinciding. Even if one of the responsibilities was cleaning the entire community center after the kids left on Friday (27 of them, yay!). Gabi, her three kids (Nora, Aaron, and Arath) and us put ourselves to cleaning the whole community center. Dusting upstairs and downstairs, sweeping and mopping everywhere, washing windows. The seven of us bustled about, wringing, soaping, and more often than not splashing each other with a laugh and innocent-seeming look.

Typical one: Aaron sprayed me with the hose on my pants, Arath threw a bucket of water at me, adding to the spot.

“Oh no!” I cried, “Now it looks like I went to the pathroom in my pants.” Later, Aaron went up to his mom and tapped her.

“Elizabeth went to the bathroom in her pants,” he said with a suppressed smile.

“I couldn’t wait,” I said, feigning shame. Certainly this is “conviviendo,” sharing laughs and sharing. Certainly these moments lie at the heart of incarnational ministry (among other things, of course). It was more than that though. When we had done all of the work, my teammates started playing outside with Aaron, Nora, Arath, while I ducked into the kitchen to check on Gabi and the food. Everything smelled wonderful, and we marveled for a little over all the work we had done in a day. The only thing we had left, she said, was mopping, washing the bathroom, and painting it later. After a couple of minutes, she turned to me and said, “Would you clean the bathroom? Better today so we finish everything.”

Irony of ironies, my face lit up. Here at Armonia, Gabi and Socorra have much higher cleanliness standards than we. Similar to the rice, we’ve never been asked to clean an entire room unsupervised. In that moment, Gabi trusted us, even with a bathroom. The request was a sign of trust, and I took it as an honor. Four weeks after working and cleaning, we have finally earned enough trust to care for part of their community center.

It was in that moment that work took on more meaning. In our Bible study at mid-project retreat, we talked about how people have become alienated from work, it no longer brings joy. Here, it did.

On Friday, work built relationships. It morphed into sharing, a celebration of Armonia and the time we’ve spent here together. We have a week left here, showing how fast a month can go. And while I can’t see the future, I’m pretty sure I’ll never be as happy to clean a bathroom again in my life.

-Elizabeth

July 21, 2011 - "Your Voice, Our Voice"

Mexico City Trek staff, Honey Vison, shares about what she's up to at the Servant Partners site in Chimalhuacan! She, along with two other students from the Global Urban Trek, are partnering with a summer youth program Servant Partners is sponsoring. The second half of the video is a clip of the group practicing the dance that Honey and Albert Chen choreographed. They will be doing a performance for their community on July 30th, 2011. All music and choreography was inspired by these students. The theme is "Your Voice, Our Voice."

July 21, 2011 - Let Me Show You

Victim of Salmonella: I was stuck in a room for three days or so. Plain white walls boxed me in. One window distracted the blandness; it only revealed a roof and a wall. I was bedridden. Nothing to do. The world outside fully functioned in its daily business. Servant Partners had many things to do and prepare for. I could have been productive and done something other than stay in bed, sleep, and be served by folks with a kind and beautiful heart.

No, not really.

I was very unable. Doing nothing for so long and seeing people come and go, especially go, created in me frustration and some solitude. It was just me. Doing nothing. I was not liking this.

Though I did have time in my hands to dwell about the city I was in, broken, needy and lost: Broken families. Fatherless homes. Struggling mothers. Obvious poverty. Massive government corruption and exploitation. Lack of resources. Youth smoking and drugging their life away. Un-inhabitable living conditions. Hurt. Pain. Scars. Fear. Hopelessness.

So here I am thinking, it´s just sickey ol´me, and suddenly, I found someone who´d been in the room with me this entire time: God. He flooded and intervened my thoughts. He was letting me know that this situation was not just about me and for my self pity. He was doing something greater than to just have me bedridden. He´s most definitely not a fun-sucker.

He simply told me: “Yolis, stop what you´re doing”.

What? I´m not doing anything. I haven’t been doing anything.

“Stop and look”.

I´ve been staring at these walls for three days, I´ve been looking… for something to do, something to make time pass by faster! What do you mean?

“Stop working your mind to find things to do, stop working your mind to see what you can see with your eyes. Just stop. Be still. Watch this movie I have to show you. Let me show you where I am in Chilmahuacan. Let me show you what I´m doing here. Let me show you my heart for these people. Let ME show you”.

I can´t explain what I’ve seen but to put it this way: God has found favor in Chilmahuacan. Although He does see the ugly that needs restoration He does not see her with pity, rather He see her with pride and joy for she is His. He is passionately in love with Chilmahuacan, for she has stolen his heart. He fiercely fights on her behalf and He fights for her love in return. He watches over her like His flock. He is her deliverer, He is her advocate. He sees her as beautiful. He is protective of her and He is her lover. He does not find peace in the conditions she´s in and will rescue her like a prince. He is not settled with the ways things are even if the people themselves have lost hope.

If God can see Chilmahuacan this way I have no excuse for not doing the same.

Where or who in your life are you seeing with your own eyes? Are you willing to stop yourself, be still and invite Jesus to let you see things from His point of view and not your own warped vision? Let me tell you, it´s a much better view from His perspective.

“For this peoples heart has become calloused; they hardly hear with their ears, and they have closed their eyes. Otherwise they might see with their eyes, hear with their ears, understand with their hearts and turn, and I would heal them´. But blessed are your eyes because they see, and your ears because they hear.” -Mathew 13:15, 16

-Yolanda

July 20, 2011 - Waiting on a Whisper

"Beware of practicing your righteousness before other people in order to be seen by them, for then you will have no reward from your Father who is in heaven. Thus, when you give to the needy, sound no trumpet before you, as the hypocrites do in the synagogues and in the streets, that they may be praised by others. Truly, I say to you, they have received their reward. 3But when you give to the needy, do not let your left hand know what your right hand is doing, 4so that your giving may be in secret. And your Father who sees in secret will reward you” (Matthew 6:1-4).

Jesus goes on to repeat the same phrase on secrecy while talking about prayer and fasting. “And your Father who sees in secret will reward you” (Matthew 6:46,66,18b)

In America, there are plenty of TV shows that give away houses, cars, and money to needy people. I do believe the people that run those shows are looking to benefit the recipients’ lives, but they’re also looking to better their own lives and companies by putting their charity on TV.

But where does what we’re doing in Mexico fall on a scale of secret to not a secret? What will our reward be? We’re also looking to better our lives by trying to hear from God about his calling for each of us. This trip isn’t much of a secret, what with fundraising and this blog. What does giving in secret actually look like?

The only example I can think of is the widow who Jesus sees put “all that she had to live on” into the offering (Luke 21:46). It was a gift from her to God, and Jesus was likely the only one to see it. Perhaps this was her one redeeming moment, but it would also have been one among many. I hope my gifts could be as shrouded in mystery.

But however God sees it, I’ve realized this trip isn’t about giving to the poor, but about fasting. I’m away from American culture, all my possessions, and all of my family, and I’m here waiting on God. Waiting for one of those whispers God is so fond of communicating with.

What I have found so far has surprised me.

I’ve found luxury in the showers, as I pour the water over my head and in the view of Mexico City’s lights in the dark, spread out below the hills our house is built in. I’ve found joy in the hoards of children World Vision invites to learn music, make crafts, and hopefully grow in their faith. The people of Tulpetlac give us so much without expecting a return. I hope to be so humble. I’ve found that living in a community like this is more attractive than it was.

God gives us light for our next step, so I’ll see what happens tomorrow.

-Jonathan

July 12, 2011 - Smallest in the Front

What did you come out to see? A reed swayed by the wind?

I was thinking about this passage the week before our mid-project retreat. It's been about three weeks now working in Armonia. What have we seen? What did we come out here to see?

Coming on the Global Urban Trek, I think perhaps what many of us expected to see, came out to see, was suffering, urban poverty, the conditions of slum communities, the need for justice. We have certainly seen that. On the way to an Armonia center in another part of the city, we could look out of our windows over a few rows of corrugated tin shacks, past the power plants a mere two minutes away (how has that affected their life?). Every time we take the bus up a mountainside, the view looking out swells with small concrete boxes sprawling as far as you can see. Is this what we came to see?

Then again, this past week, we also got to play baseball (or fusbeis, as they call it) with the kids at Armonia. Quarters were a bit cramped, but eventually we set up three bases and an area to kick. Boys took their place first to kick, girls set up to pitch. “Smallest in the front!” Gabi called out. The boys quickly rearranged the batting order, setting a small five year old boy named Efrain in the front. The ten and eleven year olds took their place in the back.

A few rounds in, boys scored a run. Couple pitches later, they had two outs. All of the girls had had a chance to pitch, I waited for one of them to throw it at the boys, when one of the girls tapped my teammate and held up the ball.

“It´s your turn,” she said with a smile. After she had pitched it, the girls brought the ball over to me. “It´s your turn, now” they said. Caught off guard, I pitched the ball. After a couple of pitches more, the boys finally got a final out and began to switch places. I listened for someone to call the score. None of the kids said a word about it. Quickly, I looked over at my teammates and mouthed “what´s the score?” Both of them shrugged. As it turns out, no one had been counting.

It seems really simple, but a couple of things struck me about this game. Number one, everyone played together. Never have I seen a group of kids spanning age differences of five or six years so naturally excited about playing together. Number two, even though the girls may have squabbled a bit over the order of things, they ensured that everyone had a turn, even if my teammate and I tried to refuse. Finally, I cannot imagine the last time I saw a game without a score, but literally just for fun.

Maybe we did come hoping to see a reed swayed by the wind, but I'm glad we got to see futbeis Armonia-style instead.

-Elizabeth

July 5, 2011 - Tears, Mud and Puppies

There were tears, mud, and puppies. Not the strangest set of elements I’ve seen so far, but definitely unexpected.

On Sunday, we prayed for the mother-in-law of one of the directors of a different community center. She was just coming home from the hospital after having lung problems. We prayed for patience for her daughters to help her through the healing process. Tuesday, Gabi told us she had taken a turn for the worse after coming home. She spent part of the day trying to contact Socorro, who was at another site.

Wednesday, Gabi told us she had passed away. She also told us that the next morning, we were going to her house to visit her daughters. Compassionate and clueless foreigners that we were (and are), we expressed our regrets, but much of Wednesday went on normally for us. Little did we know that the next morning would find us trekking (no pun intended) down a mountain-side and up hills in the rain for 45 minutes. We were all excited to be out of the community center, although the task itself and the rain dampened (again, no pun intended), our excitement a little.

When we arrived at the house, a couple things struck me. First, that it seemed that about seven people appeared to be living in a space as big as our bedroom and kitchen in Armonia. Second, that there were puppies running around the floor. Third, that even though the faces of the woman’s daughters still bore traces of tears, they pulled out seats for us, that they offered us tea and coffee. We sat in a circle, and as Socorro began to talk about this woman, her voice broke, and she began to cry. Gabi began wiping away tears.

For those of you reading, it’s hard to relate how much this caught me off guard. Socorro is one of the strongest and no-nonsense woman I’ve ever met. Gabi is one of the most positive. It wasn’t until they started to cry that I realized: This woman was crucial, she was great.

It was also the moment I think we all realized how out of place we were. Three strangers, who had never met this woman who had impacted others so strongly. We had nothing to offer.

We had nothing to offer anyone in their grief. So we sat. We listened. We watched them cry and looked at the photos handed to us. As we got up to leave, one of the daughters approached me to say goodbye. I told her to take care of herself, and that we would pray for her. She just started to weep quietly. As I hugged her good-bye, she held on. For a few moments, we stood there, hugging in silence. After she pulled away, she hugged one of my teammates and did the same, sinking into her harms for a few moments.

I stand by what I said—we didn’t really have anything to offer. This family had just lost their center, and yet still had the grace to accept us and even offer us something to drink. But for those precious seconds, we were able to offer at least a smidge of compassion. The fact that she accepted it, not knowing us at all, showed the soul of openness. Hoping we can emulate that vulnerability of spirit for the rest of this summer.

-Elizabeth

June 30, 2011 - "Don't Touch the Rice!"

We’ve been in Armonia, a community center for kids in the part of the city called Presidentes, for about a week now. What a week it’s been. Last week, I mentioned feeling unprepared for the unknown worlds we were about to walk into. This week, I’m realizing we may have been even less prepared to face what we thought we knew, but have had to relearn. Hence, don’t touch the rice.

Every morning, we clean our small apartment and the community center. At about ten, one of two women comes to find us. Either it’s Socorro, the small but powerful overseer of the community center, or Gabi, the warm woman who has taken us under her wing and shown us the ropes. When they arrive, we chat, talk a little bit about how the day will go, and then we cook lunch to eat together. It was Thursday, we figured we’d been around a couple days, and assured the ladies that we would cook this lunch. That morning, I had put the black beans to soak, and we had proudly just washed the rice and gotten ready to cook it. When Socorro walked in, the first thing she did was ask me when I had put the beans to soak and laughed when I replied. Next, she asked how we were going to cook the rice. When we started to explain, she simply shook her head and began bustling around the kitchen with Gabi. My teammate and I promptly hid in our room, peering out at the confident women with cowed eyes.

I have no doubt that the rice would have turned out fine if we had made it the “US” way, but the point is that here, it wouldn’t have been right, because it wasn’t a Mexico City (Or Chilango, which is the word for people from Mexico City) way of doing it. This is the heart of cross-cultural learning. Yeah, one way might be fine where you come from, but here, we do it differently.

In this short week, we’ve relearned how to light a stove, dry a mop, interact with our peers and elders, even how to pray. These moments of tentatively trying to absorb a new way of doing things are a far cry from the more dramatic and glamorous sacrifices I envision myself making for God sometimes (ie: I jump in front of a bus to save a child, and with my dying breath whisper “God loves you.” No worries, even I’m laughing at that one.)

Still, I’m beginning to realize that by not touching the rice, we actually died to ourselves a little bit. Humility and sacrificial love has here shown up in the mundane, the rice, the beans, the small conversations we have. So even though our boldness in the kitchen may have shrunk, I’m hoping it brought us one step closer to our Lord, and to Mexico. Hasta next week!

-Elizabeth

June 27, 2011 - One Bucket of Water

Chimalhuacan, Mexico. My first shower experience: a small space in a garage, secluded by wooden planks. I can´t spread my arms completly open in width nor length. It´s dark. All I have before me is a toilet with no toilet seat, no seat cover and no flush handle. I have a bucket, I have a hose and I have a bar of soap. The bucket holds warm water my host sister warmed up in her stove. I stand outside this space. I stare and make a plan of action. Critique and hesitation. This bucket of water will not be enough! No other choice. Let´s do this.

In my time here I´ve gotten to hear and know the heart of my host grandmother, who I will call Abuelita. She is a small 54 years old, worn out, feet bent inward, knee pain and eyes that look out into the future with hopelessness. Her home consists of her kitchen, dining room, living room, bedroom, guestroom all in one small stone walled space, a tin roof, rain enters through the holes above, and a toilet right next door.

Abuelita goes to work almost daily, twelve hourse straight. Her job consists of attending meetings. Antorcha, a political party, demands of her to attend, as well as many other residents of this town. These meetings are not a choice for Abuelita. If she wants electricity running through her house, water, pay, and other basic services she must “go to work” and show support of this party.

She gets out of work. Walks home. Once home, she walks to the market, buys groceries, walks home. She cooks, she eats, she feeds her daughter and grandson. She then walks to the store, buys tea, buys pan dulce. She sits and watches televisions as she slowly falls asleep. Abuelita buys groceries daily before each meal and buys what she can afford, day to day. No meal is bought beforehand. She lives meal at a time, each day at a time. Abuelita gives and gives, walks and walks, stands on her feet all day and only takes only after everyone is served.

A flash back to my time in the States. I´m showering. Hot water runs down, non-stop, much space, much privacy, iPod blasted high, steam suffocating the room. I take my time, I shower slowly, I sing my lungs out. I'm done showering. I stand, letting the water run over me, just to relax.

I come back to the now. I´m showering in Chimalhuacan: a small space in a garage, secluded by wooden planks, I can't spread my arms out in width or in length. It's dark. I have a bucket, I have a hose, I have a bar of soap. The bucket holds warm water my host sister heated up in the stove. I stand inside this space. I stare and stand convicted of my own sin: pride, selfishness and over-consumption. I complain of this uncomfortability I know I will only live for a couple of weeks, an uncomfortability that Abuelita will live the rest of her life. And by the way, I didnt even use half the water in that bucket.

-Yolanda

June 23, 2011 - More than Groceries

For a week now, I have encountered lively streets, crowded metro stations, adventurous (and life-threatening) drivers, and beautiful monuments. I’ve encountered bombastic foods like my favorite, exquisite blue corn tortilla tacos, Oaxacan cheese quesadillas, luscious mango with honey and granola, daily fresh pan dulces, and colorful thirst quenching agua frescas. I’ve encountered Mexico’s people, warm, loving, welcoming, and proud of their country. I’ve encountered protesters camping outside of the Zocolo for over 6 months in cause of Mexico’s governmental corruption. I’ve encountered intricately designed cathedrals where the Mexican people devoutly attend every Sunday. I’ve encountered unending cobble-stone roads with vendors of all kinds on the side, the Police’s presence piercing the eye. I’ve encountered beggars on the streets, many women who hold helpless babes in their arms, lame beggars, blind beggars; although they are few, my heart churns inside me every time I see multitudes of people pass them by, no eye contact, not a hello, not even a smile. I can go on and on about the strong presence of Mexico and what these encounters have imprinted in my heart, for there is so much more to this beautiful country than my list here.

However, the encounter that has made the greatest imprint on my heart has been meeting God in Mexico.

Unfortunately, before coming, I was more focused on the acts of service towards others I’d be doing as the focal point of this trip, but fortunately enough, God has turned the tables and served me. This entire week, God has been pulling things out, filling up those spaces, healing me and guiding me. I don’t have much time and space to share it all with you, but one thing that’s been golden for me is this: “Don’t seek to do great things, seek to do small things with great love.” These are the words of Mother Teresa about the heart of God. In my time here, God has shown me the attitude of my heart behind everything I do and I can say before you that my heart has sought greatness. In coming to this trip, part of me felt like I was doing something great. How could I serve God’s people with a heart like this? Repeatedly, God has been poking in me repentance, because to serve God, one must do it with the right heart. To serve God is to love others. Here I find myself confronted by this reality. And as I leave today to my host family, I can only and always remember that although I might just buy groceries and cook with my host Mommy, I will do it with great love.

Now I ask you, as you serve God, what is your motivation? What is your heart’s attitude? And do you find yourself trying to do “great” things or to simply love greatly in all the small things you do.

Yolanda

June 21, 2011 - Oceans of Symbolism

I grabbed tacos this morning at about 8:50 before our 9 am session. While I waited for the vendor to wrap them all up, I realized that wasn’t how the men around me were eating. They ate each taco individually, ordering a new one when they were done. Food is a much more communal and trust-based experience in Mexico City. I’ve yet to be asked for my money outside of the 7/11 and I almost feel rude offering it to the vendor before I’ve eaten. I can’t think of a hot dog stand that works that way.

This was also the first full day without the Lima team. We’ve missed them, but grown closer for it. Last night we found out our site groups (four sites with three people each) and today we split into our sites and spent four hours exploring and learning about Mexico City. We visited Zocalo, which is a plaza that holds the royal palace, some government buildings, and a cathedral.

For me, the cathedral was beautiful and tragic, seeing the oceans of symbolism, while knowing that so much wealth had been invested in the building and not the people so obviously suffering around it.The area was much more geared to tourists

and it was weird being on sidewalks without food vendors.

Since it was Monday, many of the attractions were closed after the weekend, but we were all able to bond over lunch and adventure. It’s still five weeks away, but I can’t imagine being without these people. Earlier, we had a semi-scripted dance party and just finished praying over each other. We’re already planning a road trip reunion. Yes, most of us live in California, one of us is from Maryland, and I’m from Michigan. Don’t worry. We’ll make it work. I’m excited to feel the same way about our hosts.

-Jonathan

June 20, 2011 - Not on Campus Anymore

Hello family, friends, and curious passers-by!

I write to you on our last day of Orientation. It has been a long week of learning and tough stuff, but it's been amazing. Typical of an Urban Trek: The first day, we got out of the airport (I made it through customs! so relieved), split into groups, and were told that we needed to find our way to the place we would be staying for the week, using metro and all. This mindset of get-dumped-into-the-action-and-figure-it-out-along-the-way permeates most of the Trek, or at least it has this week. Each day we find our meals among the slew of vendors, walk-in restaurants, and people. We've shared rooms with people we just met, and attend each of the sessions without knowing what it's about, only to process them in some mysterious way afterwards.

Some of you reading this probably just shook your head at the horrors of such uncertainty, while others smiled and thought "that's the life." I'd say it's a little of both. On one hand, I relish the freedom that lack of scheduling brings. It's the opposite of my life on campus.

On the other hand, it can leave me feeling distinctly vulnerable. We've talked about some tough stuff here: poverty, discrimination, people's personal pain.

So in a mini-conclusion, that's where I'm at; I am trying to focus on preparing a mindset that will equip me for the days to come, rather than attempting to absorb specific strategies. Sometimes I doubt I can truly get that mindset, or become the person that the next few weeks will require. If you're praying, that would be a cool one to pray about. With that, welcome to Track the Trek, and much love from Mexico City.We're about to stay with families whose culture differs from our own, and the only expectation we've been given is that we will make mistakes. In some ways, these are things you cannot really prepare for or predict, and even if you can, facing it head on throws most preconceived plans out of the window.

Last note: My team is awesome! We are already becoming fast friends and sharing laughs.

-Elizabeth