Working Together in La Montaña

This week about 200 pastoral agents from all over La Montaña gathered for four days in Tlapa to share experiences and search together for the best ways to be messengers of life in these impoverished mountains of the state of Guerrero.

Some of the participants in diocesan assembly

I had been looking forward to seeing Sister Carmen Dominguez, the founder of a Franciscan religious congregation here in the village of Tlalixtaquilla. But then I heard that she had hurt her back and has been in bed since late December, so she wouldn’t be attending the assembly. I decided to visit her on Sunday. It was painful to see such an active woman unable to walk, but it was good to talk with her and “catch up” on the work her congregation does with the poor indigenous peoples here.

Franciscan convent outside Tlalixtaquilla

The drive to Tlalixtaquilla certainly brought back some memories. When I approached a river outside the village of Amapilca, I remembered a rainy day back in the early ‘80s when it looked like the raging river would wash away the local bridge. A group of men were trying to tie up tree trunks near the base of the bridge, in an attempt to lessen the force of the water washing away the soil. I remember Bob Nau (from Medicine Hat) helping to tie trees together on the shoreline.

Amapilca River looks different in the dry season

When one of the trees started to be pulled into the rushing waters, another Canadian, Rob (I apologize, Rob; I forget your last name), tried to hold it in place. Suddenly, both he and the tree were hauled into the center of the river. Rob seemed to be caught in the branches of the tree, and he disappeared under the water. All of us near the shore held our breaths as we watched the tree—with no Rob in sight—barrel down the river. As the seconds went by, it seemed less-and-less likely that Rob was going to appear.

Then, almost as if by a miracle, Rob’s head appeared beside the tree trunk. He pushed off from the trunk and swam at an angle toward the shore. The rest of us all shouted and ran downriver. Rob made it to shore and was immediately engulfed in hugs as everyone gave thanks that he was still alive. I sometimes wonder if Rob has ever been able to forget that experience; I know that I haven’t.

The most surprising thing about participating in this diocesan assembly for the first time in seven years was the number of times that words such as “violence” and “fear” were heard. In many of the villages of this mountainous region, it is a real struggle just to stay alive. Being simply poor (rather than being in misery or in “survival mode”) has always been almost a blessing in La Montaña.

Small group discussion in diocesan assembly

But now, things seem to have become even worse. Perhaps in part because of struggles to control the harvesting of drugs in La Montaña (especially marijuana and amapola [opium poppy]), it is quite common to find bullet-ridden bodies scattered throughout the mountains on a regular basis. Life has changed drastically here in the past ten years.

Another not-so-surprising discovery in the diocesan assembly was the anger of so many people against Canadian mining companies. These companies seem to be able to get permits from government officials, and so they can claim that their exploration for gold or other minerals is “legal” here, but the local people are almost never allowed to have a say in how their region can best be “developed.” And almost always, the people have no desire to see mining companies destroying their environment for “riches” that these people will never share.

Hoping that the rosary that my mom held in her hands when she died in December
will help me to drive safely and be as a good a person as she was

One other thought that came to me this week relates to the similarity between what the Catholic Church in Latin America has been expressing for years and what Pope Francis is expressing nowadays in Rome. Anyone familiar with church documents from Latin America realizes that Pope Francis is not saying anything new; what is happening is that the “voice of Latin America” is now being heard on the global stage. My prayer and hope is that other people in the world will truly listen to this voice and allow it to resonate in their own lives and in the lives of their churches—and in the lives of their societies. If this happens, then perhaps the main word I will hear in one of these future diocesan assemblies will be “hope.”

Happy New Year 2014

Another year begins, and I can’t help but think a little of the past, the present, and the future.

The past: It was seven years ago today that Father Lawrence Moran, CSB, died. It was Father Moran who, after retiring from teaching at St. Mary’s High School in Calgary, began this “relationship” with the poor in Mexico. I remember when he asked me to stay with him for at least a year in 1982. He said, “Mike, I can’t stay here in the mountains by myself. I forget to feed the horse. I fall asleep driving the Jeep. I leave my sombrero in every church I visit. But I love it here. Please come and live with me.”

Father Moran in 1982

I was very happy teaching at St. Mary’s, but I thought that this living saint (Father Moran) deserved his “dying wish,” so I began my stay in Mexico. I wonder: if I had known at the time that Father Moran would be living another twenty-five years and making many other “dying wishes,” would I have accepted that initial invitation?

The present: It’s minus 25 degrees here in Regina (minus 38 with the wind chill factor), and I can’t help but wish for Mexican weather. I see that it’s 30 degrees today in Tlapa de Comonfort, Guerrero, Mexico, where I will be next week—although I also see that it will go down to 13 degrees there tonight. More than anything, though, I am thinking of my wonderful wife, Julie, and our two daughters, Sage and Sky. I want to spend as much “quality time” as possible with them during my last few days in Canada.

The future: There is no doubt that 2014 will be a difficult year for the people in the mountains of Guerrero. Tropical Storm Manuel in September of 2013—the worst natural disaster in the history of the State of Guerrero—destroyed houses, animals, crops, fields, lives. The outpouring of solidarity from people in other Mexican states was incredible. That initial response gave immediate relief to thousands of families. But the struggle for food, housing, and livelihood will be a challenge during all of 2014. Long-term solutions will need to be found for these people and communities.

Mission Mexico will try to be a partner in these life-giving efforts. But it will be a challenging year for Mission Mexico too. The flooding in southern Alberta in June of 2013 meant that people in the area concentrated on responding to the real needs of the people affected by that disaster—and that rebuilding effort continues. And in November of 2013, Calgarians and others responded (and are still responding) with great solidarity in support of the victims of the Super Typhoon Haiyan that devastated parts of the Philippines. One can’t help but feel gratitude and admiration for the compassion and sharing of so many Canadians after these tragedies.

I guess that my hope for 2014 is that people and institutions (schools; churches; businesses) in Canada will continue to support projects in Alberta and in the Philippines and elsewhere, but that people and institutions remember Mexico too. Mission Mexico has forged over the years a most trusting relationship with individuals and groups struggling for life in Mexico, and these friends and “partners” in Mexico are hoping that Mission Mexico will be able to continue offering support in 2014, in what looks like it will be a most challenging year for the very impoverished people there.

So thank you to all who have supported Mission Mexico in the past, and thank you ahead of time for all who will support Mission Mexico in the future. Have a wonderful 2014.    

PS: After my mom’s death a month ago, I found some old photos in her house that she had kept from 1982, my first year with Father Moran in Mexico. I have included a few of these in this blog. Thanks, Mom, for the memories.