COVID-19 IN THE MOUNTAIN

 

It is always a pleasure to say "Hi" to Valentina when I drive by her house

People have been writing to me and asking about the COVID-19 situation in la Montaña (the Mountain) of Guerrero. It sounds like a simple question, but I find it difficult to give a simple answer. Forgive me for trying to explain the situation as best I can. But first, please allow me to give a little background.

Rosalinda graduated as a nurse thanks to a bursary from Mission Mexico

The Mountain of Guerrero has about 500,000 people living in about 700 villages and towns and one city. That city is called Tlapa de Comonfort. It has a population of close to 100,000 people, and it is called “the heart of the Mountain.” The reason for this is that it is the main place to go to in order to find hardware stores, banks, paper stores, government offices, hospitals, clothing stores, hotels, gasoline stations, autopart stores, restaurants, universities, etc.

These women from Tototepec are eating the first cobs of corn from the 2020 crop

Most of the people in the villages and towns belong to one of three indigenous cultures: na savi, me phaa, and nahuatl. Take away the teachers and the governing officials in these places, and you are left with people who seldom have a full-time job but who have families to feed. Most of the people plant corn and beans and maybe some squash or other vegetable in the rainy season (June to October), but even with a decent crop, life is difficult, and everyone has to try to do something to earn a little bit of money.

A family in Tlapa gave me some used clothing that I could share with this family

If someone is fortunate enough to get a job in construction or in a store or working for a not-so-poor family, a common salary is 1,000 pesos a week. That is about 60 Canadian dollars a week – about 10 dollars a day if you are fortunate enough to have to work only six days a week. Take travel and food and lodging out of that 10 dollars a day, and little is left over for anything else.

Josefa was walking to town to sell a heavy bag of squash; fortunately,
I passed by with the Mission Mexico truck

So everyone has to do something. It can be working in one of the stores or restaurants or businesses, doing cleaning or dishwashing or whatever might be needed. It can be wandering on the streets to sell fruit or vegetables or shoe laces or needles and thread or tortillas or bread or pens or plants or sandals or T-shirts – you think of it, and someone sells it. Other families (with children and all) just pack up during the dry season and go to work in the huge agricultural fields that have irrigation in the northern part of the country of Mexico. Many people (especially the young) illegally enter the United States and send a bit of money home every month to help their needy families.

Two of Mission Mexico's best friends: Abel Barrera, director of the Tlachinollan 
Human Rights Center of the Mountain, and Father Cesar Ivan Balbuena Sanchez,
parish priest at St. Francis of Assisi inTlapa

So life is difficult at the best of times. Any unexpected circumstance (an accident; an illness; a loss of a job; a death) can turn a difficult life into an almost-impossible life. Health care is not free here, and many of the indigenous peoples avoid going to a hospital simply because they know they can’t afford the care. Many of the indigenous also feel left out or discriminated against if they speak only their native language.

Kenia received her bilingual teaching degree (Nahuatl and Spanish)
thanks to a bursary from Mission Mexico

Now throw in COVID. Schools were closed; offices were closed; restaurants were closed; travel was restricted. People lost their jobs. People were told to stay at home. How could they do this when that home had no food in it? People were told to keep a safe distance? How could they do that when they were struggling to sell items on the street to everyone who came near? They were told to wear a mask; most didn’t because they didn’t want to buy one or because they prayed to the Virgen of Guadalupe, so they trusted that she would protect them. On any given day walking the streets in Tlapa, I daresay that still, not 20% of the population are wearing a mask or even giving a thought to safe distance.

Some little friends in Barrio Nuevo

So is there COVID in the Mountain? Of course there is. But it is not necessarily documented, so it is impossible to give numbers. As mentioned, few people go to the hospital. When they do, it is often after everything else has been tried (prayers, incense, candles, cleansing), and the medical personnel at the hospital (there is only one that receives likely COVID patients) lament that they came too late.

Fortunately, Roberto recovered without going to a hospital

The prevalence of the virus means that even now all classes at all age levels are online; no schools are open to receiving students in the classroom. In the Mountain, this presents incredible challenges. There are so many places without Internet, without electricity, without computers, without parents who read and write to help their children. I have an incredible respect for the teachers of the Mountain who do everything they can to help their students in some way. But certainly, nothing is easy.

I was fortunate this day; the dirt road caved in, but I didn't roll down the ravine;
these men came and got me mobile again.

A huge factor in terms of life here is the number of Mexicans in the United States (and some in Canada) whose life was changed because of COVID there. Hundreds of Mexicans died in the United States; one of Mission Mexico’s partners here, the Tlachinollan Human Rights Center of the Mountain, has been playing a major role in repatriating the remains or the ashes of victims; this is an important reality to the native families in their indigenous cultures.

Meeting in Teocuitlapa with youth assisting in children's education in their villages

But hundreds, if not thousands, of Mexicans lost their jobs in the United States due to the closing of so many businesses there. That means no more monthly payments sent to the needy families in the Mountain. Families who before counted on that money to just barely get by are now facing misery as they struggle to survive on their own.

Modesta appreciated getting some eggs on this day

So what is life like here in the Mountain during this time of COVID? It is heart-breaking; it is difficult; it is super challenging; it is desperate in many instances.

Mike with Cepillo and Checo, two Mexican Marist brothers who help
coordinate the Champagnat High School of the Mountain

But it is not hopeless. Mission Mexico has more than twenty years partnering with Mexican friends and organizations in trying to bring life and hope to this poorest region of Mexico. Our efforts have had to adapt to new situations, but we have not abandoned the struggle – and definitely we have not abandoned the people. Our efforts to make a difference, especially in the areas of health and education, are not flourishing at the moment – but they are ongoing. Lives continue to be transformed, hope continues to be nourished, and love continues to hold the upper hand in this most difficult of times.

On many of the roads I travel, I come across more burros than other vehicles

Gratitude is extended to the people of the Diocese of Calgary for not abandoning Mission Mexico during the time of this pandemic. Yes, the closure of Catholic churches and schools in Alberta meant necessary cutbacks in the support that could be offered in the Mountain. But the people of the Mountain understand that COVID is afflicting life in Canada too, and they pray everyday for your well-being and health.

Little Yashira almost died in April; without Mission Mexico,
maybe she would have. But she is fine now.

Is the future uncertain? Of course it is; no one knows what is going to happen next. But the Diocese of Calgary is trying very hard to maintain its commitments here in the Mountain. Please, people of Calgary, please consider going to www.missionmexico.com on the Internet; you can learn more, and maybe you will feel called to share just a bit with the impoverished indigenous peoples here in the Mountain of Mexico. And please consider being generous with the diocesan-wide "Mission Mexico Collection" in parishes on the weekend of December 12-13. Thank you, and God bless.

Driving the mountain roads in early morning or late night often offers
some incredible skies

National Award for Father Fred Monk in Canada

On July 1, 2020, the Governor General of Canada announced that Father Fred Monk, founder of Mission Mexico, was being awarded the Meritorious Service Medal (Civilian) for his labours on behalf of the indigenous, impoverished peoples in the mountains of the State of Guerrero, Mexico.

One of the reasons that Mission Mexico is able to provide assistance that truly transforms lives in the marginalized region of the Mountain of Guerrero is that we have incredible "partners" who accompany the people in their struggles for justice and life with dignity. One of those partners is the Tlachinollan Human Rights Center of the Mountain. When they heard that Father Fred Monk (founder of Mission Mexico) received the Meritorious Service Medal in Canada, the Tlachinollan team asked me to forward to him the following words of congratulations (I promise that the message is worth reading, to understand the world here and to understand the "quality" of our partners here):

Father Fred:

In the most difficult moments that Moses had to confront with the people of Israel,

he climbed the Mountain to strengthen his spirit and

to receive the tablets of the law of God.

One of the best teachings that Jesus left us

was the Sermon on the Mount:

“Blessed are the poor in spirit, because the reign of heaven is theirs.”

A reign that has not arrived fully yet,

but that we continue building from the peripheries of the world.

Father Fred,

in your first visit to the Mountain of Guerrero,

you discovered the suffering faces of the children of the “people of the rain.”

You encountered simple, silent women

who live daily with a worldly suffering.

You were aghast at the subhuman conditions of their humble homes

where they eat and sleep on dirt floors.

You contemplated the furrows of hunger,

and you savoured the joy of eating corn with the common people.

You entered into the community-centered heart

of a sacred land.

Because the earth is a mother

who feeds her children

with the fruit of their labours.

On the crests of the mountain summits

the elderly wise women and men of these communities

read in the heavens the signs of the times.

They know if there will be abundance or if there will be drought

during the course of the year,

sickness or health among the families,

war or peace among the villages.

They pray that the sacred powers

calm their fury

so that the rain, the wind, and

the clouds be a divine blessing

that will cause the community’s corn fields to flourish.

The best gift from God

is to be a witness to this fellowship

that is practiced in the Mountain.

In the midst of the extreme poverty,

there lives a spirit of solidarity,

the fiesta that unifies families

around their patron saint

or around their mother,

the Virgin of Guadalupe.

The women and the men of the Mountain

understand life as a freely-given gift from God,

to whom they are to be always grateful.

For that reason, prayer

isn’t really prayer for them

if they don’t also present

an offering,

a candle,

and flowers.

With this simplicity and this mysticism,

the people of the Mountain

have evangelized us.

They have taught us how to really practice

the teachings of Jesus

in the midst of so many adversities,

both economic and technological.

Father Fred,

thank you for sharing your faith and your love

among the very least of the least

in this land forgotten by governments.

You continue being present among us here

through this life-giving project

that you so wisely baptized as

Mission Mexico.

You have allowed so many boys and girls

to be able to go on to higher education.

You have helped women and men in so many families

to receive training in different trades and professions.

Many people today, because of your assistance,

enjoy decent health.

They were able to have access

to lab tests, to medicines,

and on occasion, to be able

to bury a loved one with dignity.

We simply want to say to you,

as the team of Tlachinollan,

that you have been always with us in our labours

during our years of accompanying these peoples.

You have always been attentive to the neediest of the needy:

to battered and abused women,

to malnourished children,

to families in mourning

for the death of their father

in the fields of large agribusinesses.

Father Fred,

blessed is that moment when you, like Moses,

came to the Mountain;

and like Jesus, you have put into practice,

during your priestly ministry,

the gospel beatitudes.

You have been a prophet as well in your own land.

That is how we understand this recognition that you have received

from the Governor General of Canada,

the Meritorious Service Medal.

For those of us who know you,

We are filled with pride for you and we congratulate you.

Because we know that in your heart there resides

an infinite love for the sons and daughters

of this beloved plot of land:

the Mountain of Guerrero.

Receive our affection and our admiration.

Abel Barrera and the Tlachinollan team

                                            July 1, 2020

LENT IN THE MOUNTAINS: SILENCE AND SIMPLICITY

The cross in Acatepec, a traditional symbol for Lent

Here in the mountains of Mexico, Lent has begun. A unique custom here is that two or three or four parishes celebrate each of the six Fridays of Lent: First Friday, Second Friday, etc., right up to the Sixth Friday, the Friday before Good Friday. Each celebration involves music, dancing, sporting events, fireworks, processions, etc. It’s just a little different from the Lent that I experienced growing up in Canada.

Can there be a better photo to symbolize simplicity?

I like the simplicity of this time of year. I spend a lot of time driving on the isolated dirt roads of the mountains, and I try to spend more time in silence and prayer. It is the middle of the dry season, so I don’t have to worry so much about mud or landslides. I always hope that this time will help me to be a more compassionate and loving person, and I am always aware that my being here, doing what I am doing, is due to the compassionate and loving persons in the Diocese of Calgary who support Mission Mexico.

First Friday with friends in Cuixinipa

Since one of Mission Mexico’s focus areas is education, I spend a lot of time trying to help young people find places to continue their educational journey. Sometimes things work out; sometimes they don’t. But even the effort seems to nourish hope, and hope, I am convinced, is one of the most life-giving gifts that one can share here.

Friends in Barrio Nuevo

Just last week I attended a ceremony where Icodia, a young woman from Cerro de la Garza, one of the highest and coldest and poorest areas of the mountains, received her accounting degree. This is a first for someone from her family and from her village. She expressed her gratitude to Mission Mexico for helping her achieve her dream; Mission Mexico gave her a monthly bursary for several years of her university career.

Icodia with her family on her special day

And Edgar, a young man who is in a wheelchair for life after a nasty fall in the mountains three years ago, is registering to study psychology at university in the fall. As I write these lines today, Edgar is coming out of anesthesia in a hospital in Mexico City; he was operated on this morning, and the doctors told his mother that the operation went well.

Edgar (in blue), with Lindsey and Gerardo

The young lady in the photo above graduated as a physiotherapist, thanks in part to a bursary from Mission Mexico, and she and two of her friends recently opened a clinic here in one of the larger (and poorer) neighborhoods of Tlapa. Most of their work involves home visits to people who are bedridden.

Lindsey and her fellow physiotherapists in front of their small clinic

Elizabeth, a young woman who fractured her spinal cord ten months ago, continues to try to walk. I was saddened when her father told me the other day that he was going to leave his family for a few months and go to work in the neighboring state of Michoacan. There he can earn 200 pesos a day picking tomatoes. Seven days work will earn him 1,400 pesos a week: almost exactly one hundred Canadian dollars. That’s about double what he can earn here in the mountains in a week. So even though he doesn’t want to leave his wife and daughter and son, he feels he has no choice.

Elizabeth can stand, and one leg is stronger than the other and allows her to move

And this past week I went to the Champagnat High School of the Mountain, in Potoichan, to celebrate the birthday of Brother Salvador, better known as Cepillo. This wonderful Marist brother has been with the school since its beginning in 2004, and Mission Mexico has been a proud partner with him in offering education to more than 200 students a year.

Brother Cepi, or Cepillo... his real name is Salvador

One of the indigenous students, Gabriela, read to Cepillo a speech that she had prepared. I will end this note with a part of her speech. I think it reflects not only on Cepillo, but on Gabriela and on all the people here in the mountains who are partners with Mission Mexico in the struggle for life with dignity, justice, and love.

Gabriela reading her speech to Cepillonish)

Gabriela stated:  Good afternoon, Cepi. More than anything, I want to congratulate you on this special day when we are gathered to celebrate another year of your life. I want you to know that you are a very special person, much beloved and a real fighter. There is so much to be grateful to you for; please forgive us for all of our actions that make you feel bad. We give you infinite thanks for always being there for us as a father and a friend. We thank God for placing you in our path to be a light, a guide who always speaks to us truthfully so that we can be better persons tomorrow. We thank you for your advice, your affection, your attention in any circumstance that befalls us. Thank you for being a unique person who always wants the best for us. Thank you for your laughter, for your joy, for your upbeat ways, and for you being a part of our lives.

This is Gabriela's full speech (in Spanish)

You could have easily decided to stay in your own house and form your own family and have many comforts and lived with your loved ones. Nevertheless, you gave up all of that; you opted to form a family that God wanted, like the family formed by Saint Marcelino to help the needy….

More than seeing you as a great Marist educator, I, in your face and in your being, encounter the reflection of my parents and grandparents. I see those grey hairs that make my imagination soar to dream of being like you someday and to share experiences with those who surround me. I see that smile that always encourages me, even when I don’t see a way out; your words always give me hope; you are like the password for a doorway when I feel lost. Your positive attitude always helps me to keep dreaming and struggling to fly higher. Even your way of walking gives me security, teaching me to not weaken on the journey and to keep my eyes centered on my goals…

Please pray for my friend Juve, who has cancer and is very weak; on Saturday I will
drive him to his home village of Alpoyeca; he wants to visit his elderly parents there