Mexico

Before I left for Mexico, I was thinking about a blog post in which I talked about change. I was going to show you a picture of my new haircut, talk about the change in seasons I was ready for...and now I can't remember what else I was going to talk about, but I really had thought about change a lot. Then the flurry of pre-trip activity happened, or maybe I should say the tornado of pre-trip activity because that's how the house looked, and then we were off to Tucson in the Fun Bus. We left the boys at Jeremy's parent's house and headed on to Mexico.

Most of my previous trips to Mexico happened when I was a teenager.

This was my first time going as a parent, and I even had my baby with me to remind me of that fact (though it was never far from my mind). Jeremy was the leader of the team, which was made up of mostly college students and a few high schoolers and leaders.

Traveling across the border in a large shuttle bus reminded me of when I was a kid and our family took a taxi into Tijuana because my dad didn't want to drive there (I wouldn't want to, either!). I couldn't believe how calm and cool Jeremy was as he navigated confusing lanes and talked to stern border patrol agents and led us through few Mexican Fire Drills (similar to Chinese Fire Drills, but requiring a little bit more style as the entire group has to disembark, remove luggage, put luggage in a straight line, stand on one side of luggage, jump over luggage, carry luggage past a crosswalk signal, push a button, reload the bus, and get back in). He even managed to get through a difficult situation in which a bribe was strongly implied. It was fun watching him lead this trip--in fact, it was my favorite part.

Every time I go to the Grand Canyon, I think "I've been here before, I know how big it is. It won't be that amazing" and then my breath is taken away at how big it is. I felt the same (but obviously a different reaction) as I entered Mexico..."I've been here before, I won't be surprised at the level of poverty" and then my breath was taken away.


We stayed in a beautiful retreat center in the resort town of San Carlos and were fed delicious food every day by our wonderful hosts. That's not the poverty part, that's more the "don't muzzle the ox while it's working" part.


The shock of seeing the poverty came the first morning when we went to church in a poorer area (but definitely not the poorest). Many of us got sunburnt, because we never would have thought we needed to apply sunscreen prior to sitting through a church service.

I was struck by the joy and exuberance of the people at this church, and despite not having a roof, they had loud amplifiers, so the whole neighborhood could hear the service whether they wanted to or not. The scene was so different from America, but then, as I stood in the back with the other parents of small children and watched them offer bribes of candy and toys to try to get their children to be quiet, I realized many things are similar no matter where you live. I talked to one of the moms about MOPS and potty training and from that moment forward, realized my ministry was going to look different than I had expected. When everyone was complimenting our group's young translator, whose mother had passed away when he was a boy, I said, "Your mom would have been so proud to see you doing this" and knew that I was more a mother than a peer in the eyes of our team.

I wasn't able to dive into the work that our team did in the extremely poor neighborhood of Empalme, but Annie and I came each day to hang out. The area was a dry riverbed that was populated by people who basically put together houses using whatever materials they could find. In August of last year, the area was hit by a hurricane and water from a broken dam (or so I was told by someone) rushed through the neighboorhood, taking the people's meager possesions, rooves, animals, even houses with it. Here is a picture of the home of one of my friends, Abbi. You can see the water line above the windows in the picture. Her house was made of blocks, so she is better off in that regard than many of her neighbors. Her sink was a garden hose stuck through the window and the floor is dirt.

Many of the residents did not have electricty. Here, I saw a grave on the side of the road
And here is a baby being raised next to a pile of trash.

Our team did some painting, clearing lots, chopping and stacking firewood and built a house for a single mom and worked on the construction of a Sunday School classroom at the neighborhood church.
I helped with a "spa day" we did for the girls and moms. We washed their hair outside and then took them inside to do their hair and nails and just pamper them and make them feel better. More and more, I am realizing that connecting on a human level, not just doing "charity" is what's most important...and this was a good example of that. The girls would go back and sleep in their lice-ridden beds that night, so we did nothing lasting, but we made them feel special and pretty and connected them with the church in their neighboorhood.



A friend gave me a bunch of baby clothes, so one day, we had a little free "store." The pastor's wife and I went around the neighborhood inviting moms with babies or those that were pregnant. I really loved talking to them and got to know a few of them a little bit in the time I was there. A few of the ladies had already put the new outfits on their babies by the time they walked out of the "store". I talked to one pregnant mom who didn't even know when her baby was due, much less the gender. Any of the baby clothes or items she had from her 3 year-old son had been washed away in the hurricane.



One day, we walked around handing out food bags and praying for people.
The people received us so warmly and most invited us into their "houses". One of our high school boys who was helping translate got big eyes and said, "This man has invited us into his humble box. Well, maybe just one of us." My motherly heart strings were pulled looking at the conditions these moms were raising their kids in, and a few of them followed us down the street to ask for further assistance--one needed a humidifier because her baby had breathing problems and a grandmother of a girl with cerebral palsy (named Miracle) asked us for large diapers for the girl. I wanted to help all of them, but was reminded by our host that this was the point in which God was asking me to trust Him more. He said, "God has given you a heart of compassion. You want to buy diapers and help these people, which you should, but what is going to happen next month when the diapers are gone or the electricity is turned off? They need lasting change in their life, the kind God offers." I did bring diapers back the next day, but those words stayed in my head.

Annie was my ministry baby. Everywhere we went, people wanted to touch her, hold her, look at her blue eyes, take her from me, etc. She greeted each and every one of them with a huge smile--she doesn't see wealth or poverty or dirt and grime, she just sees people...what a blessing she was. (Though I have to admit that around 3 pm each day, I was ready to bathe her in hand sanitizer and not let anyone else touch her).




So I guess the week did consist of a sense of change for me. A change in my ministry...supporting Jeremy and reaching out to the moms. I sensed a change in my desire to help others...thinking and talking more about what we can do that leads to lasting change. Now that I am an adult, I know that the house we built could become overrun with drug dealers or another hurricane could come. Empalme is still a scary place to live--we saw it only during daylight hours. A few statements that I heard still stick in my head...Jeremy was talking to the team and reminded them that Jesus said "The poor you will always have with you". I thought about how Jesus did so much for the poor and sick--and how people would bring their sick loved ones to him...I know that people were coming to that church in Empalme for help in their need, and that can be tricky to handle because we are humans, not Jesus. One of the students had a shirt on that said "Faith, Hope, and Hard Work". I said to her, "What about the Love?" and she said, "That's in the hard work." As a mom, I know that's true...I want to act upon that as a Christian, too.

Our trip wasn't all just seriousness...we got to eat hot dogs con todo (hot dogs slathered in ketchup, nacho cheese, tomatoes, onion, sour cream, guacamole...I think there was even some bacon in there).We also ate chilis stuffed with cheese and wrapped in bacon. Whoever thought of that was brilliant.


There were also fresh, homemade tortillas. Brilliant as well.

We enjoyed some time on the beach and out on the boats near the home of some friends. There was a lot of excitement about fishing...and one of the boys brought a fish head home in his suitcase which smelled nice.


Annie got two teeth. I didn't get much sleep.


I became fond of some Spanish phrases...Annie spit up in church and the whole row of ladies next to us leaned forward and exclaimed, "Los quesos!" (which is translated "the cheeses" which I think describes spit up...creatively). The other phrases I won't repeat here, but in the words of the college students, the trip was "Las Totally Awesome!"