Reformulating Almost Everything I've Ever Learned

All day the words that Father David shared yesterday kept reverberating in my mind.

Father David—someday he will hopefully publish his journal with his "reformulations"

David is a “new” priest—ordained earlier this year—who came to the mountains three months ago, after receiving all of his priestly formation in different urban centers. In a meeting yesterday that was looking at how the diocesan church here might offer better service to the impoverished indigenous population of the mountains, someone asked David if he had any ideas to propose.

Fire (in this case, with candles) is a huge element in terms of interaction with the divine

I don’t remember his full response, but I do remember one expression he used. He smilingly said that he is still trying to put the pieces together, that the experiences with the people in the mountains is—in his words—“forcing me to reformulate almost everything I ever learned.” A lot of heads nodded in the meeting: almost everyone could identify with David’s “reformulating” journey.

The cross and flowers are two more important elements in most rituals

Of course, David had a stark introduction to the spirituality, rituals, and customs of the native peoples. He arrived in mid-February—just the time of year that many families begin to experience real hunger after their small corn crop from the rainy season begins to diminish. It can be a time of dehydration, malnutrition, sicknesses, and real suffering. And it’s a time when the people especially carry out rituals around springs or caves or the highest mountain around their village.

Offerings are made to ensure divine protection

These rituals are designed to propitiate the forces of nature, so that the new rainy season come as soon as possible, overcoming hunger and allowing corn—the life of the people—to flourish once again.  People pray, dance, sing, and offer sacrifices to the cosmic forces. The clouds are called upon to provide a good rain. The winds are invited to not blow too strongly through the corn fields. Lightning is requested to not cause any disasters. And the rain itself is asked to fall softly in order to fertilize well the fields.

Each flower in the necklace of flowers represents some pain or tragedy in the life of the person
preparing the necklace. Having the bishop bring these necklaces to God is a special
blessing in the eyes of the people here—and the bishop is fully aware
of the significance of this ritual.

A couple of weeks ago a group of doctors and dentists came from Mexico City to various villages in the mountains for five days. They offered free checkups to hundreds of children, youth, and adults. It was the first such experience for these medical personnel from a Catholic parish in Mexico City—but probably not the last. Besides just offering their service, they tried to get to understand the people’s perspectives on their lives, their illnesses, their hopes, etc. All the doctors and dentists admitted (like David even after three months) that such an understanding was going to take a lot longer than five days—and a lot of "reformulating."

Unpacking some of the dental equipment brought from Mexico City

Mission Mexico has been accompanying these people for more than fifteen years. Lives have been impacted in small ways and huge ways. The people here are truly grateful for the many signs of solidarity. And they pray too that God (God is the cosmic forces) reward each and every person who has supported Mission Mexico in its efforts to bring life to this very challenging reality here. Have a great week.

Medical and dental equipment loaded on the Mission Mexico truck

Distress and Eustress during Holy Week in the Mountains

I know that “eustress” isn’t the most common word in daily conversation, but the word came to me as I listened on Holy Saturday (the day before Easter) to more than one hundred young people talk about their experiences of living a week among some of the poorest people among the most isolated villages in the mountains of Guerrero.

A young "missionary," Araceli, visiting a family in Llano Grande.
Araceli, from Tlapa, is in her last year of study for a teaching degree,
thanks in part to a scholarship from Mission Mexico.

I remember that I first read the word in a book called Healing the Heart of Democracy, by Parker J. Palmer. In the book, Palmer made a distinction between “distress”—which is negative and destructive—and “eustress”—which is positive and a prod to growth.

Vladimiro—a near-perfect example of "eustress" rather than "distress"

 There was no doubt that the hundred young people from the states of Puebla and Tabasco and from Mexico City and Tlapa had “suffered” and “sacrificed” during their week in the mountains. The travel (breathing in dust on the back of trucks), the food (beans—and often only beans—every day), the sleeping arrangement (straw mat on a dirt floor), the language barrier (the youth spoke Spanish; many of the people in the region spoke only me phaa), the lack of comforts (no cell phone or Internet here), etc.

Palm Sunday procession in Xochitepec

But, amazingly enough, everyone was thrilled that they had had this experience among the indigenous poor. As one young man put it, “I kind of bragged before that I was Mexican. Now I’m not even sure if I know what it means to be Mexican. I never knew that people actually had to live like this in my own country. If these impoverished people live in Mexico, maybe I live above Mexico.”

Dani and Isa (from Tlapa) with children in Loma Macho

The youth had arrived on Palm Sunday to different villages in the parish of Xochitepec. I spent the full week in the parish, visiting different groups each day to be sure that all was going well. It was a week without seeing a paved road—and occasionally walking, driving and wading through rivers, and even crossing a swinging walk bridge (with missing boards) above a steep gully at one o'clock in the morning. The truck was continually in four-wheel drive, and I never got beyond first or second gear. The days were long—usually leaving in the dark and returning in the dark. But it was an amazing experience.

Mike crossing the swinging bridge in Rio Velero

The people in the villages were thrilled to receive these groups of four or five young “missionaries.” The young people interacted with the children, the youth, and the adults. They were encouraged beforehand to visit every single family in the village where they were staying. It was these family visits that most impacted them.

Children from Loma Macho learning through coloring about Jesus' life

So many families had sick children or sick mothers or sick elderly—yet this was just “daily life” for the people. The young “missionaries” felt impotent in responding to so many needs. Many had gone to the villages thinking that they would be “bringing the Word of God” to the people (in fact, one group even had that motto on their T-shirts); on their last day, these same missionaries articulated that the Word of God was brought more to them than to the people.

Eleuteria, Monica, Lizbeth, and Sara. Monica and Lizbeth are sisters
and lived in different villages during Holy Week. Monica is a university
student in Tlapa, thanks in part to a scholarship from Mission Mexico.

Another impactful experience for the young “visitors” was the re-enactment in the villages of the events of Holy Week. Without the presence of a priest, the villagers still relived the events of Jesus’ last week of life. The “re-enactment” wasn't always exactly faithful to the gospels—for example, one village washed hands at the Last Supper, not feet; another village used tortillas and Pepsi, not bread and wine; another locked up on Holy Thursday night the young man playing the role of Judas instead of the young man playing Jesus;—but everything worked out fine.

Jesus meets his mother in this Good Friday reenactment in Llano Grande

In the Holy Week issue of the newspaper that the diocesan seminary here in Tlapa distributes, I wrote an article about Jesus’ last week in Jerusalem. In that article I mentioned the importance and the beauty of reenacting the events of that week, but I also stressed that, as disciples of Jesus, we can’t forget what led up to the events of that week. My final paragraph went something like this (it reads better in Spanish than in English, I think):

Father Hector walking to Rio Velero (he got us lost walking;
I still think he deserved to slip in the river and get soaked)

“Paraphrasing something written by José Antonio Pagola in his book Volver a Jesús (Turning Back to Jesus), we must remember that what was for Jesus the objective, the rationale, the heart of his message, and the passion that drove his life was the kingdom of God. We followers are invited not only to turn our lives over to God; we are invited to ‘seek the kingdom of God and its justice’; we are invited to collaborate with Jesus in working toward a world with greater justice, dignity, life, and love for all.”

Easter Vigil service in Xochitepec

I think that this was one of the “lessons” learned by the young “missionaries” during their Holy Week experience in the mountains. I think it is one of the reasons why Father Fred Monk started Mission Mexico. I think it is one of the reasons why so many good people assist Mission Mexico in its efforts to live and share this gospel message among the impoverished people here. Let’s hope that the future will show more signs of this kingdom of God in the mountains of Mexico—and in your life and in mine.

Driving in the early dawn (okay, maybe just a little
before the early dawn)

Grief: A Universal Experience

I know it was just a coincidence but still…the timing was incredible. I was driving to the village of Xilotlancingo, and I passed an open space high in the mountains where there was cell phone service for a couple of minutes. A beep alerted me that I had an e-mail; it was from Father Fred Monk, founding director of Mission Mexico. The message ended thus: “Take care and keep out of the ditch!! Fred.”

The road near where Godofredo went into "the ditch"

So far I’ve kept out of “the ditch.” That’s important because most of the mountain roads here don’t have a "ditch"—they have deep ravines that go a long way down. And on the day I received Fred’s message, I was on my way to the burial of a 21-year-old teacher, Godofredo, who had driven into such a “ditch” two days earlier.

Godofredo being waked on the dirt floor of his one-room house

Godofredo had just received a permanent teaching job a month earlier. In fact, he had received his first payment, but hadn’t had time to change the check at a bank yet. He and three cousins went off the road on a Saturday night. The three others are still in the hospital. Godofredo died at the scene.

Godofredo's mother, Wilfrida—her husband died two years ago, and she was living
with  her son Godofredo and his family

It was sad to attend the burial. I couldn’t help but think of the biblical book of Ruth, in which Ruth and her mother-in-law, Naomi, were left without a male presence to accompany them. In this case, it was Godofredo’s wife, Camelia, and his mother, Wilfrida, who were left without a male presence to accompany them. And to make matters even more difficult, Camelia now has to look after her two daughters on her own: two-year-old Arleta Alfonsina, and a newborn baby who doesn’t have a name yet.

Godofredo's wife (now widow), Camelia, and their daughter Arleta Alfonsina

Godofredo’s casket was carried from his house to the main square of the village, where the children from his class at school paid their last respects to him. Then the casket was placed on the back of a truck and driven to the cemetery outside the village. I followed that truck with family members and cement, flowers, candles, etc.

The truck driving Godofredo's body to the cemetery in Xilotlancingo

A trail of flower petals were dropped on the road all the way from the house to the cemetery. This was meant to make it easy for Godofredo to find his way home if he wished to do so on his journey to the next life. At the cemetery every person present (and that was hundreds) incensed his final resting place before the casket was lowered into it.

Godofredo's mother, Wilfrida, incensing his final resting place

Before closing the tomb, all of Godofredo’s clothing, shoes, and personal belongings—even a briefcase with school books—were placed alongside the casket in the tomb, so that these possessions would accompany him. Then the tomb was sealed as final prayers and hymns were offered.

Placing Godofredo's belongings inside the tomb with him

As a final detail, a baby chick was placed on the tomb, although it immediately began to wander around the cemetery. The chick is placed there because it can guide Godofredo to water if he needs that during his upcoming journey.

The baby chick meant to help Godofredo find water on his journey to "new life"

The grief expressed at this burial reminded me that grief is a universal experience. Yes, many of the “details” at this Mexican burial were different from those at a Canadian burial, but the sobbing, the crying, the tears, the sadness, the pain…these had no nationality. I don't travel that road too often, but I promised Wilfrida and Camelia that I would drop in to see how they are doing whenever I am near Xilotlancingo.

Some of the women present at Godofredo's burial

Today is the thirty-fifth anniversary of the assassination of Archbishop Oscar Romero in El Salvador. On one occasion he said, “There are many things that can only be seen through eyes that have cried.” The reality here often leads one to cry...but what one sees so very often is the compassion and the faith and the love of people who trust that, no matter what, together, incredible challenges can be surmounted. Mission Mexico tries to help make that happen. Thank you for being part of this effort.

To Educate Or Not to Educate

It's that time of year again in the mountains. The sisters (nuns) from Chalco have come to the mountains to see if families in the impoverished villages want to send their children with them in August so that they can continue their education after Grade Six.

Sister Areli and Sister Jasmín, Sisters of Mary

The Sisters of Mary operate two schools, each one called Villa de los Niños. The school in Chalco, State of Mexico, is home to about 2,500 young girls; the school in Guadalajara, State of Jalisco, is home to about 2,000 young boys. These students enter after Grade Six and can study either just junior high school or both junior high school and high school. These schools are specifically dedicated to children from impoverished families throughout the country of Mexico. The education offered is completely free; everything from shoes to gym clothes to pens to notebooks is provided to the students.

Sisters preparing tortillas for breakfast in Xochitepec

It is interesting to speak with people about these schools. Some people think that none of the impoverished children from the Mountain should go there. Their thinking is that three or five years away from the families "changes" the students, so that they no longer "fit in" with the indigenous cultures and customs. Other people think that yes, the ideal would be that these children could be educated in their own village, but if the choice is between no education or an education away from home, then the education away from home is better. Especially since the students do return home for the Christmas holidays and the summer vacation.

Some Grade Six students in Xochitepec: Eleuteria, Lorenza, Bernardina, Marisol, Minerva

The sisters at  the Villa de los Niños are aware that their students come from many cultures, and they try to help their students feel proud of their backgrounds. Many of the sisters working at the schools were themselves students there at one time. And many of the teachers in the Mountain studied at their schools.

Sisters Areli and Jasmín meet Maricruz and Claudia, two teachers in Xochitepec
who had studied at the Villa de los Niños

I have been on the road a lot these past few weeks, helping families from the more isolated villages get to the villages that the Sisters of Mary are visiting. And in a few minutes I will leave again for a road trip so that families from around Pascala del Oro might meet with the sisters. If all goes well, I will be back here in Tlapa on Friday (I am writing this on Sunday).

Sometimes going to a village seems to be like driving toward the moon

Most of the week I will stay overnight with the Missionaries of the Holy Spirit in their parish of San Marcos Xochitepec. That's an extra bonus to being on the road. Fathers Juan and Hector have been working there for two years now, and Father David arrived two weeks ago to join their pastoral team. Mission Mexico helps them with some of their projects with the people, and I continue to learn and to be amazed by the incredible accompaniment they offer to their communities.

Fathers David, Hector, and Juan celebrating Mass in their house

Thank you, supporters of Mission Mexico, for helping families here move closer toward the dreams they have for their children. People here are aware of your love and solidarity, and they are most grateful. Have a great week. God bless.

When I was driving Father David to Xochitepec, we met Rosendo,
one of the leaders in the village of Cuixinipa, walking along the road

Change the Table, Change the Future

Just over one year ago twenty-year-old Alex Graf was studying welding at Medicine Hat College—and, then, on February 11, 2014, he was killed in a motor vehicle accident. Today, just one year later, dozens of young men from the impoverished mountains of Mexico are benefiting from the generosity of family and friends inspired by the “one of a kind personality” and the “love and laughter” of Alex Graf. As the years go by, those “dozens” will become “hundreds.”

Alex's Welding Shop

“Alex’s Welding Shop” is now one of the favorite places for students at the Champagnat High School of the Mountain to “hang out”—as long as they’re doing something constructive and as long as they are observing all the rules in terms of safety and care of the machinery.

Many of the students never saw welding tools before in their lives

I love hanging out in the shop too—even as I confess that I’m seldom doing something constructive. But just watching the students interact and learn is a beautiful experience.

It's always easier working with someone else

The education offered at this school is incredible. The 245 indigenous students “follow” the regular Mexican curriculum, but they learn about their native cultures as well: the sacred stories, the customs, the rituals, the traditions, and the struggles that have nourished the cosmovision of their peoples for centuries.

"Now what did the teacher say this was for?" seemed to be a common reaction in the beginning

In his latest book, Change the Story, Change the Future: A Living Economy for a Living Earth, David Korten points out that “we humans live by our shared framing stories and have a deep need for a sense of purpose and meaning. If we do not share an authentic sacred story, the void will be filled with an inauthentic story—and that is our problem. An economy, a society, built on the foundation of a lie cannot work.”

"It looks like the right length to me"

Korten also mentions that “many indigenous people use the term sacred to refer to what is most important, most essential to the well-being of the community and its members, and therefore most worthy of special respect and care. It is in that sense that I speak here of sacred stories.”

"Wow, this is fun..."

Talking to the students in Alex’s Welding Shop proves that the “sacred story” motivating these students is one of what is “most essential to the well-being of the community and its members.” The students don’t talk about making money or getting ahead just on a personal level; they constantly refer to the difference that their learned skills can make in their school now and in their communities of origin afterwards.

There is classroom learning too for welding—here with Brother Checo, master welder

It was almost funny to be present in the first “hands-on” classes. Master welder Andrés invited the students to make something small: a table, a flowerpot holder, a window frame, a small chair—one student even made a barbell for weight lifting. He let them make tons of mistakes—and some of the finished products did produce laughter (including a table with the most uneven legs I’ve ever seen). But then, building on that initial effort, Andrés slowly and surely guided the students through the construction of the same item—this time using the tools and methods that an experienced welder would take advantage of in order to produce a high-quality product.

"I think this will work; all I need is the other end"

Alex Graf’s legacy is impacting lives in this remote mountain region of Mexico. “Changing the table” is not only “changing the story” for students and families and communities here; it is in a very real way “changing the future.” The students asked me to extend their gratitude to Alex’s family and friends and to Mission Mexico for helping them to have this life-giving experience. Alex is now part of their “sacred story.” I can’t think of a more incredible tribute. Thank you, Alex.

Placing Hope in Education for a Different Future

“Well,” said Pooh, “what I like best—” and then he had to stop and think. Because although Eating Honey was a very good thing to do, there was a moment just before you began to eat it which was better than when you were, but he didn’t know what it was called. — A.A. Milne, The House at Pooh Corner

I’m not sure what it was called either, but this quote came to mind last week as I was driving into the village of San Miguel el Progreso. I hadn't been there for about ten years, and I was really looking forward to seeing old friends. Just the anticipation of that encounter made the drive along the dusty road easier to handle (the view helped too: it was like driving to heaven; Elijah had his chariot, I had my truck).

Driving to San Miguel el Progreso

I was going there to deliver a supply of educational materials to the local high school. Forgive me for smiling as I re-read that line. The high school in San Miguel, with 104 students, is quite different from the image of a high school that most Canadians probably have. Consider the following photo of the outside of half of the high school:

 

The original classrooms of the high school (and still being used)

And the high school classroom is rather different than the classrooms that I used to teach in when I lived in Calgary:

A Grade 12 classroom in San Miguel

The parents in San Miguel have organized and formed an Education Committee that is, as they put it, “knocking on doors” of governmental and non-governmental organizations in the hope of improving their educational facilities. The state government did build them three new classrooms, but the committee is hoping for more: things like Internet service, a small library, a chemistry lab, a sports field (even if not regulation size), more teachers, etc.

Three classrooms recently built by the government

The 3,500 people who live in San Miguel basically live from growing coffee. Unfortunately, this year they are receiving a double whammy: coffee prices are low in the market, and many of the coffee plants in the area suffer from a plague called “coffee leaf rust.” I mentioned in a blog in September that “food and education” is a “marriage made in heaven” in terms of what most parents hope for their children. But food has to be the priority—and the upcoming year looks like it’s going to be a hungry one for many people in San Miguel.

Coffee beans drying in the sun in San Miguel

The principal of the high school is Fausto, a very committed young man. I used to teach him in the diocesan seminary before his life took a turn toward the field of education. He was born in San Miguel and understands the challenges that his people face. He is a wonderful example of someone who is using his abilities and energy to work for the well-being of his community.

Fausto and his wife, Adelina, in their kitchen-dining area

It is such a blessing to be allowed to be here and to accompany as best I can the efforts of so many incredible people as they struggle to create a better world for others. The many little and big things that Mission Mexico is able to do is multiplied by the renewed sense of commitment that many people experience when they realize that they are not alone in their struggle for life. Perhaps that is one of the best gifts that Mission Mexico offers.

Another (outdoor) classroom in the high school in San Miguel

So thank you to all who support Mission Mexico. You are making a difference in people’s lives. Have a great week.

Driving home from San Miguel at night can be an adventure too