October Newsletter - Sarah in Mexico

Sarah's Newsletter
October, 2007

The call to live weak…
Dear friends,
I come to write this October newsletter feeling enthused and a bit overwhelmed by the invitation to share this experience and all that it makes me learn, discover, see, and believe. My life here in Mexico is difficult and uncomfortable, but it is also filled with abundant grace, life, gratitude, and love. Every day reveals new complexities and challenges; my mind perpetually spins with questions and ideas; sometimes I’m not sure where or who I am. Yet what a life! I’m energized by the persistent challenges and discoveries and know this year will bring learning unlike any other. Enjoy reading the following snippets of my month and thanks for joining me on the journey!

“True servants depend on those whom they serve.”
-Henri Nouwen, ¡Gracias!

In my last newsletter, I wrote about how crazy, messy, out-of-control this life in Mexico feels. There continue to be waves of torrential downpour, but I feel as though I am moving into places of greater understanding and gratitude each day. One of the most difficult and powerful experiences of the past few months has been that of letting go…

I come from a reality in which I carried a lot of control—I planned my days, I knew how to get from one place to another, I could express myself accurately and quickly, I saw accomplishment and felt productive, I decided what and when I would eat, etc. I was used to feeling confident, prepared, secure. Well, nothing like moving to a new country for a year to toss one out of that rhythm! I’ve been led to a call and culture that pushes me to live a much slower, uncontrolled, vulnerable life. It feels a bit like I took a giant step backwards and am living the life of a toddler again. I jump in the car without any idea where we’re going, I don’t understand things the first time around, I need step-by-step instructions at work, I have to do things I know I won’t be automatically gifted at, I rarely know the plan for the day (I’m convinced that’s a combination of there rarely being a plan and my lack of understanding!), and sometimes I can’t even figure out how to flush the toilet.

Living in a foreign land pushes me to recognize my vulnerability and need for others in a much more tangible way. I see, several times a day, the way in which my life depends on the fruits of the earth and the labor and love of others. My host mother provides wonderful meals, a comfortable home, and good conversation. The ruta (bus) and taxi drivers get me to my destinations safely. Strangers on the street give me a hand when I have no idea if I’m supposed to walk up, down, or turn around. My co-workers graciously point out cultural norms that I ignore or misunderstand, and keep a good sense of humor when I mess up my words. The women in Cuentepec fill me with food and incredible stories of indigenous life. When I eat tortillas, I can’t help but be mindful of the campesinos I see in the country, hauling bushel after bushel of corn from the field. And I am overwhelmed by gifts of time and invitation that fulfill my longing for companionship and relationship.

To live in greater awareness of the interconnectedness of life washes me with deep humility and gratitude. It allows me to see the way in which humanity’s richest value lies far beyond individual accomplishment. I feel loved not for what I do or know, but for who I am. My weakness and vulnerability help me realize that my intelligence and skills are probably not the most valuable gifts I can offer my friends in Mexico. Rather, I feel called to empty myself, to live into my brokenness, and to receive with open hands all they have to offer and teach me. Henri Nouwen articulates this call so well:

“The great paradox of ministry, therefore, is that we minister above all with our weakness, a weakness that invites us to receive from those to whom we go. The more in touch we are with our own need for healing and salvation, the more open we are to receive in gratitude what others have to offer us. The true skill of ministry is to help fearful and often oppressed men and women become aware of their own gifts, by receiving them in gratitude. In that sense, ministry becomes the skill of active dependency: willing to be dependent on what others have to give but often do not realize they have…True servants, then, depend on those whom they serve.” (¡Gracias!)

We live under a definition of giving and serving that would most likely see me as the one who has more to teach and give, but I can’t get through one day without being keenly aware of all the gifts I receive from others. It is my prayer that my gratitude and dependence may in some way help my Mexican brothers and sisters discover in themselves great worth, purpose, and gift. By accepting a meal, craft, or conversation, I hope to liberate my friends from the bonds that have prevented them from giving their gifts to others. Some days it takes much intentionality and patience to let go of the desire to be in control or the belief that my way is better; other times it is so apparent I could not live as fully without their love and generosity. It’s becoming clearer every day that I give more by receiving, and I serve most by allowing others to serve me.

On a lighter note…

My favorite cultural experience…
A few weeks ago, Heidi (our country coordinator), Maria Luisa (the woman I accompany to the indigenous communities), Jenn, Katie (2 other YAGM volunteers), and myself went to Cuentepec to take part in the festival of their patron saint, San Miguel. This is one of the most important days of the year for this community—so important that, even when we tried to schedule a meeting 10 days prior, the women told us it was absolutely out of the question because “we have to start getting ready for the fiesta!” (It goes without saying that Mexicans really know how to celebrate!) The festival day was filled with great hospitality, fellowship, and feasting! We went to four different homes and, though these families had never met most of us, they welcomed us as if we were long-time friends. As soon as we walked in the door, they jumped to their feet, greeted us warmly, set up tables, found chairs from every corner of the yard or gave up their own if there weren’t enough, and immediately served us healthy portions of tortillas, rice, and chicken molé (the quintessential Mexican sauce made from chilies, herbs, spices, and chocolate). It was incredible. Their generosity and joy were so abundant and genuine. I just love the way fiestas work here…there are no invitation lists, RSVPs, or starting and ending times; rather, everyone prepares enough to feed the town and families simply go from home to home, taking turns serving and being served. How beautiful!

The most bizarre foods I’ve eaten…
Pico de gallo (what we would call “fresh salsa”) and mango con chile ice cream
Pickled cactus
Roasted jumiles (small, black insects that look a bit like grasshoppers—Mexicans rave about their protein content and seem rather undisturbed by the texture…)
*I think one of the most exciting parts of a cross-cultural experience is trying new foods, and mostly the food is very, very good. But I can already say there are some culinary dishes I hope to take home with me, and others I will have no problem leaving behind!

Some words just don’t translate very well…
Mostly, my Spanish is coming along really well. I love the challenge of learning another language and am finding it to be an excellent tool in learning not to take myself too seriously! Here are a few of my favorites…

Mexicans love the word ya…I feel like they use it in nearly every sentence. In my language classes, I learned this word to mean “already,” but I felt like that meaning wasn’t working in every context that I heard it used. I looked it up in my dictionary, and this is the definition I found: already, no longer, right now, soon, in a while. Well that was sure helpful! No wonder I’ve been confused!

I also enjoy noting the way Mexicans address others. Some phrases and names are so different than our customs in the U.S.! For example, it’s very common for teachers to refer to their students as hijo/hija and amor, which mean “son/daughter” and “love/dear.” When locals talk to me, they always call me güera, a name used to refer to people with light hair. My blonde hair has never drawn so much attention in my life! When Mexicans pass each other in the street, but aren’t stopping to talk to each other, they say “goodbye” instead of “hello.” It makes sense, I suppose, but it catches me off guard when I say “Hola” to someone and the immediate response is “Adios!” And this is my favorite…all the time, I hear people greet others—especially important women in their lives like mothers, girlfriends, or wives—by saying, “Buenos días, gordita.” This essentially translates, “Good morning, fat lady.” It still startles me every time I hear it, but for Mexicans, it’s simply another greeting and in no way is it offensive. Oh how I love it here!

Laughter, learning, and love abound here in Cuernavaca, Mexico! I am so grateful for your support as I continue to live into my weaknesses and discover what this call to serve is all about. Know that your friendship, love, prayers and encouragement are deeply valued.

Peace and love to all,
Sarah