February 28, 2006
A Selfless People
posted by Mackenzi
A tiny poor ejido (Spanish for a small town) hosts the meeting of the surrounding and wealthier churches, providing and making two meals for more than fifty people.
A teenage boy whose not well-to-do father buys him a brand new motorcycle and he willing lends this treasured possession to friends and family even after one of them accidentally hurts it. A teenager, who at times does not even have the money for a bus ticket home from music school to come see his family, insists on paying for his wealthier friends’ meals. A young man hits a pole with his brother’s car and his brother lets him drive it again. A woman, whose family owns a taco stand to make a living, invites two girls to eat potatoes at her taco stand since she rarely has them, and then she gives the richer girls tacos and Cokes to go along with them and wouldn’t let them pay for them. All of these are examples of the selfless Christians in Jaumave who give of themselves and their belongings. I’ve wondered if I will ever be able to be as unselfish as them and I’m ashamed of how much I hold onto my earthly possessions. They have the right attitude about what is important. I have yet to meet a Christian in Jaumave who wasn’t willing to share and it seems that their giving spirit is endless. People are more important than things and the witness of the Christians in Jaumave is very strong in following the verse "Freely you have received, freely give" (Matthew 10:8)
January 31, 2006
Ha, guess where? yeah, Mexico!
posted by Sharon
About a year ago, my friend Rachel and I were having a highly intellectual discussion regarding the topic of “the dumbest places in the world to live”. Haha! Among our top results were Mexico, and Kansas. At the time of our brainstorming, we were both living in the small town of Boerne Texas. Little did we know the irony that awaited us.
In March of that year my family and I went to visit our good friends the Prices in ha, guess where? Yeah, Mexico! We stayed with them for one week and had a blast…and a lot of tacos during our visit. When we were back at home, my parents told us that the Lord was calling our family to move to ha, guess where? Yeah, Mexico! So, we started packing and by the end of May, my completely white, non-Spanish speaking family was living in ha, guess where? Yeah, Mexico!
While my family was already here, I stayed behind in Boerne to finish up a ballet performance with my dance school. I was staying with some close friends who toted me to and from all of my classes and rehearsals every day. During that time I was trying to eat as much American food, see as many movies, hang out with as many friends, and talk up my cell phone to death as much as possible. I was having an extreme disinterest in the whole moving to a foreign country with no cell phone thing. Haha. I was really not looking forward to going. After the first week in June I was off to the same place I had formerly named “one of the dumbest places in the world to live”.
I have now been here in Mexico almost seven months. Whoever said “the older you get the more time flies” apparently never moved to Mexico! I celebrated my seventeenth birthday only two months ago an already it feels like my twentieth should be next. I have experienced so much since coming here, some bad things like; insane homesickness, racism, language barrier, doing without, and having to miss friends and family immensely. But at the same time the truth in the Bible where it says that “in all things God works for the good of those that love him” (Romans 8:28) has come shining through. I do love Him, and through missing my family and friends I realize how blessed I am to have them (you) to be there for me, to always love me no matter what crazy things I do! He has also given me a lot of new friends here. The doing without has made me extremely appreciative of what I do have and to be able to really play the “lean on me” game with God, and trust Him completely –even without having my cell phone or ballet! The language barrier…haha! There are some funny moments for you! Racism has been a really weird thing to deal with because it is not a prominent thing in the U.S. anymore. It is hard to be walking down the street followed by odd stares, ripped off (money-wise), or mistreated just for being white. It makes me so conscious of how pathetically shallow people are, and that no matter where you go all people have issues! (Yes, I’m definitely included) haha! And God is so much bigger than that but He still loves us all anyways!
After all of these things build up, before I know it I am feeling so so so homesick! For my friends, family, country, Pizza Hut, ballet, English, grass haha….just everything! But then I have to remember that this whole little earth no matter where I live is only a temporary home for me. My real home that I will never have to move away from or be a random white kid is in Heaven!
After having experienced Mexico so um, profoundly, I think I now have the ability to properly define it as I did a year ago…….Yeah, I would definitely say it’s one of the dumbest places in the world to live! Where else could you live and see random horses and donkeys in your from yard? (happened this morning) Or have road signs that say “obey the signs” haha! Yes, it is pretty dumb….But we cannot forget about Kansas. Ha, guess who lives there now? Yeah, Rachel!
January 17, 2006
Reflections on Returning
posted by Mackenzi
Our family went to the States for Christmas and my grandparent’s 50th wedding anniversary. It was nice to go but it was nicer to come back.Don’t get me wrong, I loved getting to see my friends and eating great American food but it’s just nice to come back to the relaxed atmosphere of what feels like home now. When we got back into Jaumave I smelled the air, I had always been aware of the distinct smell of Jaumave but I had never really placed it but when we got back I did.
It smells like home but it also smells wilder, somehow closer to nature. The town is relaxed and steady, and once the people got over the surprise of white people being in their town, they are very friendly. I’ve never been big on walking places, partially because it takes longer but mostly because I’m lazy. Today I walked to the Gandy’s house and to work and I didn’t mind it too much, I think that how laid back they are has rubbed off on me and I’m so glad! :) It’s wonderful not to stress out over small stuff and I’m very grateful to have learned it from them. I suppose it is learned here easier than in the States because here things go slower and if you expected everything to be quick and easy all of the time you’d pretty much go insane or be grumpy most of the time. I recently read in a magazine that Mexico is the second most contented country in the world. Before we came here I would not have understood that but now I do, when you learn to be relaxed and not stress out over small stuff then you’ll be pretty contented. Generally the stuff that I stressed out over while we lived in the States was pretty small all things considered. Knowing when to stop and relax and take a break is a wonderful thing.
Another thing that made coming back great was getting to see the Gandy family, I’d missed them. When they moved down here and Christina (their daughter who had been living with me) left for Moldova we all missed her and a piece of us was missing. Even though nothing can totally replace her, I believe that we are helping each other through it and I feel like they are my family too. You’d think that since there are nine people in my birth family that I’d have my fill of family but nope! I’ve “adopted” ten more people! :)
My friendships here have surprised me in how quickly I have become good friends with the Mexicans. I think that this is partially due to the fact that some of the natural insecurity in most friendships is lessened because of how hard each of us has to try to communicate. It is reassuring to know that we care enough about the other person to try hard to get to know them. I’ve never before experienced friendships that grew so fast and I’m very grateful for them.
January 10, 2006
There and Back Again
posted by Madeleine
We just came back to Mexico from Christmas in the States—several days in affluent Austin, several in snowy Minnesota. I wonder how much greater the contrast can get.
Driving around Austin (in itself a change from Jaumave, where I walk almost everywhere I go, Jesse strapped to my back) what I see everywhere is the shininess, the money. Four dollars for a coffee at Starbucks, mansions lit with huge displays of lights, last-minute gifts that cost more than a day's wage down here. My friends, mostly "poor" creative types like us, buying CD's and dinner out, shopping at Whole Foods—twelve dollars for a chicken. Driving everywhere we go, the asphalt paving the way between where we are and where we want to get to. White Jaguars and trim black Volvos scoot by me—not once do I see the type of car I've grown used to in Jaumave, patched with primer, its engine chugging a little as it lumbers by me down the dusty road.
In Minnesota, it's snowmobile culture and the after-Christmas sales, a fire in the fireplace, big meals of ham and pumpkin pie. Outside, it's frosty white and the horses wait to be fed. I feel the insulated warmth of a life that I always thought of as simply 'middle-class' but that I now recognize as absolute luxury.
Then we come back to Mexico. After four or five trips to and from the States, I'm a little dulled to the shock of crossing the border from moneyed Texas into the battered brutality of Reynosa—that dustiest of towns, the road lined with homemade signs scrawled on sheets of dirty plywood. Leaving Reynosa, we drive down between mountain ranges, past grazing goats and a landscape of scrub that's slowly turning from summer green to winter grey. We come back. Back to the quiet. Back to the place where whole families gather under the porch roof to sit in old chairs and eat homemade tostadas, kids playing in the dust at their feet.
My temptation, at least on paper, is to want to simplify and idealize: to characterize the United States as mercenary and media-driven, glutted with excess and ingratitude, in contrast with these small-town Mexicans who have "chosen a simple life." I want to see us "Americans" as thoroughly and always unhappy in our compulsion for more things; I want to believe that the Mexicans, overall, are happier in their relative poverty than we are in our wealth. But there's no simple moral here: it's possible that most people in Jaumave would love to drive a shiny SUV and wear Abercrombie and Fitch. And an abundance of possessions can sometimes be a blessing, not always a curse. And it's probable that the proportion of happiness to sadness is the same here as anywhere else. The difference, the contrast, is not so much between people's natures as between their circumstances. And me? I get to experience two sets of circumstances, straddle the line between two cultures. It's my hope to glean the best of both worlds.
December 27, 2005
My Class
posted by Anne Marie
Hi! My name is Anne Marie Price. I am 10 years old. I live in the small town of Jaumave, Mexico. In September 2005, my dad put me in public school for 1 hour a day so I could learn Spanish and make new friends.
The first day, I went in and everybody stared. The teacher say me in the front row so everyone would turn around and look at me. When it was time to leave, I was scared and nervous about what I should do when I left the classroom. Then my mom and my brother, Grant, were there. I was relieved. The next day, before class, while I was writing on my paper, everybody surrounded me to see what I was writing. There were so many children around me that I could not see anything but the ceiling. They were definitely curious. About a week later, some children in my class started giving me candy, pencils, pens, stickers, etc. One would give me a shell and then another would give me a bigger shell. I think they wanted me to be their best friend. Some times, the boys in my class say "I love you" to me. So they won't say it any more, I pretend to not understand them or just ignore them. Finally, one day, the teacher told them to stop bothering my. And it worked. :)
These are some of my interesting experiences of being in public school for the first time. It has been weird. I prefer not to be in public school but God knows what He's doing.
December 20, 2005
Things that I enjoy about Mexico
posted by Grant M. Price
There are many things in Mexico that I enjoy. Most of the stuff that I like to purchase is very inexpensive. For example you could buy 6 donuts for less than $1! And you could get one bottle of coke, a snack size bag of cheetos, 3 suckers, 3 packs of gum, and "KoolAid" for $1.85! Cheap huh?
Another thing that I like about Mexico is the view. Pretty much anywhere you go, you can see beautiful mountains from right outside your front door to driving through them on your way to Victoria City. I know a lot of Americans think that Mexico is just a desert wasteland but it isn't. Sure, it's hot alright, but it isn't just plain and ugly. It's really pretty (and we don't just eat beans all of the time). Another thing I like about Mexico is learning Spanish and translating. Now I'm not bilingual but Hunter, my brother, and I speak the most Spanish in our family besides my dad. And the last but most important reason I like Mexico is because it is God's will for us to be here.
September 26, 2005
Three Months In
posted by David
As we pulled out of town after our initial visit to Jaumave, I was full of a variety of emotions. On one hand, I was sorry to be leaving the community with which I had connected on so many levels—the quiet walled streets and the vendors that walked them, the wrinkled faces and hands that often reminded me of my dad's dad and uncles, the surrounding landscape that, like the sleepy dogs that roam it, grows and rests with such independence and always in the shadow of the surrounding Sierras. On the other hand, I was admittedly relieved to be returning to a land flowing with bookstores and coffeeshops where, at least for now, English is still the predominant language and where, if I stand out, it's for reasons I intend; where the bathrooms consistently have toilet paper and often even soap and paper towels. Over all this though, we felt like we'd be returning. In fact, I would say we hoped we'd be returning. In our deep parts, we knew that this could be our home.
Having been here now for three months—after three previous months of waiting and preparing—our loves and hates are still a varied mix, but we've only grown in our confidence that this is our home. Obviously one of the biggest factors in our relationship with the community is the language, of which we speak very little. Interestingly enough, the day before we got the initial call from Randy inviting us to consider joining him and his family in Mexico, Madeleine and I had decided that we were going to start studying Spanish because we felt that it was very important for our Jesse (then 9 months) to grow up bilingual. Once we made the prayerful decision to move to Mexico, I thought it would be great to study really hard for the remaining time in the 'States so I could impress everyone once we arrived. Not only did that not happen, but a few weeks after we did arrive I became so discouraged with the process that I stopped studying altogether. It wasn't until we took a trip to Guanajuato and the surrounding area that both Madeleine and I felt a renewed desire to know the language well. Since then our progress has been slow, but I would stay steady.
The language barrier is still the biggest obstacle on our road to being a part of this community and culture at large, but the Guanajuato trip also brought to light an obvious point that we had missed up till then: life in Jaumave is not necessarily fully representative of life in Mexico. More specifically, living in Jaumave means living in a small town with all that accompanies that. Even for our Spanish-speaking summer interns, "in" status was not something that was granted easily, if at all. In fact, Dustin, who spent most of his two-and-a-half months here interacting with the Mexican people, said that he usually needed a local "partner" to accompany him to gatherings in order for him to be even initially accepted. That's not to say that the locals are cold and dismissive, because they're not, but it does make it clear that we can't simply expect our good intentions to automatically gain us favor. Of course there are several men and women who have been very warm, and especially so in the church. Often, warm smiles and waves are returned in kind, and already simple relationships are developing despite our poor Spanish. At the same time, it is a joy to see the local community come together for celebrations or even just weekend walks around the plazas. I can even usually tolerate the loud speakers on wheels making announcements of local news or sales, knowing that this is a living community.
Besides speaking a "foreign" language and preferring their own, the locals also march to the beat of a different time clock, but like the other cultural differences we've faced, this too is a coin with two sides. In fact, this specific difference has proven to be a large and needed blessing to my family and my own spirit. For starters, we are able to leave our vehicle at home for all but highway trips and grocery shopping, choosing instead to walk or ride bike—rush hour is not in our Jaumave vocabulary in any language. Besides the aforementioned plazas, packed earth streets and open doorways also play host to neighbors as they meet to relax and share the evenings. Vendors often wander by the house during the day selling goods they've cooked or baked or built or picked: cornbread, tamales, headboards, tunas (cactus fruits)... For me this slowed pace and associated lack of ambition provide room for me to let go of a lot of my own ambitions, room to begin to recognize unhealthy patterns and time to adjust; time to read and talk and play and think. As a family, we've been faithful to keep days of rest and family dates, and as a couple, Madeleine and I are enjoying the lack of "important" options that have historically kept our minds full and our schedules busy, and subsequently limited the regularity and depth of our interactions. Of course, this slow approach can be a source of frustration when depending on others to get things done, a quality known around the office simply as "mañana." This approach also allows important things to remain disordered or undone around town: manhole covers missing, unmarked car killers (aka Mexican speed bumps), large scale water leaks, regular electricity outages, weeks waiting for the right people to talk so our shop transformer could be turned on, trash left on the sides of almost every street.
In the end, though, I'm not sure that I would too change much even if I could. The price would be too high; too much might be lost. So, it looks like it is I who will be the one to change. I'll continue to adjust, to struggle and be formed in this regularly occurring process called culture shock, and I'm confident that I and those around me will be much better for it.
September 16, 2005
Living in Jaumave
posted by Heather
It is morning. The sun has risen, but it is still hidden behind the ring of mountains that surrounds Jaumave, Mexico. Roosters are crowing from nearly every back yard. Somewhere a dog is barking and a donkey is braying. The sound of a horse's hooves ring out from the cobblestone street leading down to the river behind the little house I’m staying in.
Slowly the people begin to wake up. Old, rusting trucks rattle up the streets toward the plaza. Boys on bicycles, a few men on horses, and people walking like myself pass me on the road, wave, and call out “Adios” in greeting. Women stand in their doorways wetting the dust that covers the road. A little boy runs barefoot down the sidewalk to his neighbor’s house. The tortilla shop next to the Projecto Del Carpintero office is crowded, now. People are standing in line waiting for their packages of still-hot tortillas. School girls walk in pairs through the plaza. The bells on the old church ring out the hour: eight o’clock. Four or five men are waiting in front of the office door for someone to bring the key; I wait with them.
The sun is hot in Mexico. By noon, when I look for lunch, the streets are nearly empty. Clusters of people sit in the shade of the huge trees in the plaza. An old man pushes a wheelbarrow down the street. Dogs lie under cars, tongues lolling out of their mouths. People come and go from the little cafés around the plaza, looking out the open door and brushing away buzzing flies. Every table holds a bowl of a green chili sauce. Red chilies go on everything – even fruit. A toddler at the table next to me stops eating and stares while I wait for my tostadas. I guess he's never seen blonde hair before.
It is in the evening that Jaumave truly comes to life. When the sun is setting, and a cool breeze blows through the dusty streets, then everyone comes out of their houses and gathers in the three plazas in the heart of town. Children laugh and shout as they play on the playground. Young people play basketball or soccer, or walk the perimeter of the plazas together. Some people sit in the backs of their trucks, talking over the loud music coming from their radios. Couples kiss on the benches under the trees, unaware of the world around them.
Taco stands begin to open when the sun sets, and hamburger stands too. Sitting in the dim yellow light at a plastic white table, I squeeze fresh lime over my tacos, spoon on the green chili sauce, and watch the people pass. I see a face I recognize; it’s hard not to in this little town. She calls out my name, and I wave. That’s what the plaza is all about, really. Meeting friends, and passing on, and meeting them again.
It is late now, and I’m tired. I walk slowly up the dark, cobble stoned street, and turn in at a dirt driveway. I’m almost past Pastor Pepe's house when a voice calls out to me from the darkness. They're sitting on their front porch, enjoying the night. I stop to chat a few minutes with them before moving on.
Outside my door, I pause to look around. The stars above seem so close, so numerous, that I hate to go inside. A dog is barking, but other than that all is still. The shadows of the mountains loom up on the horizon. The breeze is soft and cool. This has been a good day in Jaumave.