Four-month Retrospective

For the past five years, in the first week of December, I log into my email account and find an email from myself, written exactly one year earlier (thanks to the online application FutureMe.org). This year was no different. On December 3, 2013, I was delighted to find a several paragraphs-long email that I had written in 2012, detailing my day to day life (I was working full-time with the King County Department of Community and Human Services) and making speculations as to what the future may hold. At the time, I was toying with the idea of graduate school at the University of Washington, but get this, towards the end of the letter I wrote "I MISS MEXICO. Lord, when will you take me abroad again?" God must have been laughing to himself when I wrote this, knowing full well that a year later I'd be three and a half months into working as the Volunteer Coordinator with Casa de los Angeles.

I am starting to 'get a hang' of things and reaching an equilibrium work-wise. I realized when talking to Laura, one of the Danish volunteers, that the reason I had such a deep crisis with the run of less-than-savory volunteers is that, as with most things in my life, I came into this job with some naive notions of what things were going to be like. Mainly, I assumed that because volunteers were coming to give their time to a charity, spending their own money to travel abroad, that they'd all more or less be 'decent' people. I hadn't accounted for the fact that some of them could possibly be immature, passive aggressive, neurotic, self-important or entitled. Just because these are volunteers, doesn't mean that the Volunteer House is exempt from the shitty-ness inherent in humanity as a whole. This isn't a utopian haven of only generous-hearted saints.

So I'm learning to embrace the ambiguity and lack of resolution in the fact that the Volunteer House will at any one time contain exemplary volunteers (conscientious, kind, go above and beyond), odd volunteers (enigmatic, tough to figure out), rude volunteers (openly selfish, prickly, uncooperative, complaining)--it's basically going to be a macrocosm of the world, morally/character-wise. So for me now, my only hope and expectation is to at any one time have just one, at least one, decent volunteer that will remind me that yes, there are actually altruistic people there... that are sincerely and genuinely altruistic, not just faking it (and are actually kind of nasty deep down, ugh, just terrible).

Another thing I'm learning is that some of the volunteers just aren't going to like me. No matter how much I may try and start conversations, try and be inviting, check-in regarding their experience at the daycare, there will just be something about me that fundamentally turns them off. And I've learned to let that go. I'm done with self-doubt and bending over backwards to please people. If they want to talk poorly about me to other volunteers and be surly toward me, that's whatever, man. Not my problem. I have enough people around me that are 'in my corner,' telling me that I'm doing a good job, that I'm just not going to worry about not being 'everything to everyone.'

I think a really neat part about my work is that through it I gain friends. I was struck today how nice it is to be able to get to know long-term volunteers well enough to the point that it's apparent in our conversations that we genuinely care about each other. You know how in some relationships there's quite a bit of superficiality, in the sense that if you ask a person, 'How are you doing?' and neither the question-asker or the question-answerer care about the answer?--neither person's heart is in it and it's more of a formality, a charade, 'going through the motions.' There's such a stark difference between stilted acquaintances and when there is genuine friendship, as in both parties are actually truly interested in what the other person has to say...

At first it can be hard to meet new volunteers, go through the small talk, and try and intuit whether the volunteer could be a potential friend, or just another person that I'll live with for a few months, they'll leave, and I won't really think about them much again. However, to get to the depth of actual friendship, that's something quite special... to be able to have real conversations about personal observations, reflections, family, friends, growing up... it actually reminds me of when I'm with my cousins, and we can just talk about anything and everything, and it's just so easy! I'm so glad to have met and spent time with Andreas (Denmark), Alice (U.K.), Adi (Israel) and Laura (Denmark). A+ people, all of them.

Thankful to have the opportunity to 'connect' with such outstanding volunteers and human beings. Yes, this job is pretty great. :)

Counting Down

The weather here in San Miguel de Allende has kept me in a strange warped vertigo when it comes to time orientation... I swear to myself it's got to still be August but no, today is the 8th of December, and it's in the low 70s and sunny. Truly amazing.

In less that two weeks I'll be back in Seattle. It's kind of strange! I was walking home from church this afternoon thinking, 'Wow, this is my life now. I'm in the middle of Mexico and this is my life now.' I go to the market to get fruits and vegetables and the guy working there recognizes me now. If I need something, I more or less know where to go to get it, and when I can get it (instead of arriving to a store only to find it closed). I have a weekly routine now; for example, Sundays afternoons are for tidying up my room and cooking a gigantic meal that I'll chip away at all week long until it's gone.

It's just kind of surreal. Mari was right when she told me in September, te acostumbras.

It feels a bit odd to not be with my family in December as everything is ramping up for Christmas. We have our traditions of decorating the house, watching our favorite Christmas films, etc. I asked my mom to send a picture of Fifth Avenue all decked out in lights downtown, because I missed it. Nevertheless, it's good to be here with the volunteers, where we're developing traditions of our own. Myself and another volunteer have put up twinkly lights in our room that blink on and off somewhat haphazardly (what more can you expect for 20 pesos?). I bought some pewter candle holders and cheap tapers (they literally smell like crayons) to serve as an Advent wreath (my Christ candle is currently a tea light--definitely need to work on that). I miraculously found some candy canes at the dollar store in Queretaro, perfect for making peppermint hot chocolate, and my red Glade apple-cinnamon candle smells like Christmas enough...

A bit of ludicrous American commercialism to get into the Christmas spirit.

Tonight is 'cake and ice cream night,' our second in the past month, where we as a group go to the grocery store, pick out a giant cake and a 4 liter tub of ice cream, and bring it home to eat while watching a movie of our choice. Last time it was Mean Girls but we're hoping Elf or Love Actually will be on so that we can really get into the Christmas spirit. If not, though, I'm always down to watch Pacific Rim. ;)

All this to say, life is good. Thanks for reading along.

That's what Christmas is all about, Charlie Brown.

In the past few weeks, having a few somewhat difficult volunteers that were not here for the right reasons left me a bit disheartened and discouraged about my job. I just could not believe that people would come all the way here to Mexico, and make the whole experience about them, and serving their own needs and expectations, rather than genuinely trying to be of service at the daycare. Too self-absorbed by their own discontent and unhappiness, these volunteers were blind to what a blessing it is to be with the kids, teachers and moms. It was truly disappointing to me.

However, a few bad apples cannot and will not spoil the bunch. I was thoroughly reminded of this yesterday, and it actually almost made me cry... Yesterday was Alice's last day at the daycare, and she's been here almost three months. Long-term volunteers like Alice are able to make deeper and stronger connections with the teachers and kids, really get to know how each of the children act, and start helping intuitively, just jumping in wherever there is a need.

It makes such a difference when volunteers arrive with an open mind, willingness to learn and a generous spirit. Although Alice arrived without knowing any Spanish, she enrolled in hour-long lessons Monday through Friday... Rather than complain about the teachers 'not speaking slowly or clearly' enough for her to understand, or giving up completely in ever being able to communicate and thus be of help in the daycare, she said her lack of language skills just pushed her to 'work harder' to learn Spanish so that she could be more helpful! She even put Post-It notes labeling things in her room in Spanish to expand her vocabulary.

Teachers can really tell a good volunteer from a poor volunteer, especially since over the years nearly 1,500 volunteers have passed on through. And in my short time here, it's the good volunteers that, on their last day, receive cards full of kind words from the teacher they worked closely with. This happened when Andreas left and now with Alice. She had spent the most time in Maestra Diana's class of 2+ year-olds. When I stopped by in the afternoon to snap any last-minute photos of her with the children, she showed me a card from Diana with the kids' hand outlines and a very long, sweet note from Diana, thanking Alice for all her help--that she did a 'noble' work and was great with the kids.

The kicker was when each of the kids got picked up by their mothers and Diana said, 'Go hug Alice; she's going back home now!' The kids immediately responded, running straight towards Alice with their arms wide open and a smile on their face. I could tell how much affection they had for her and she for them.

This was a reminder of the worth and value of this work. When the volunteers have good will and a good heart, it is a true blessing to witness the love shared between them and the staff/children.

"And that's what Christmas is all about, Charlie Brown."

-Linus Van Pelt, A Charlie Brown Christmas

Día de la Revolución

 This week we celebrated the Día de la Revolucion! Parade always included. Wednesday two teachers, four volunteers, 25 of our oldest kids and I piled into the back of Miguel's pick-up truck to get front row seats to all of the excitement. Surprisingly enough, the kids found the parade captivating, and paid attention the entire hour! I'm not quite certain why, but this parade had a lot of gymnastics! Kind of puzzling because I'm pretty sure they have little to do the Mexican Revolution.

Transit Police. This was honestly the most strange and hilarious display of human acrobatics I have ever seen...

Traditional dress and dance! Very cute.

An American football team? No gymnastics...just walking.

Thought this woman looked quite bad-ass.

More human pyramids...

For the Long Haul

This morning I left the house at 7:00am with two of the volunteers to go hiking in the mountains a few kilometers away from San Miguel de Allende with Miguel, our Director at the daycare. I knew nothing about the route we were going to take, other than Donna's warning that when Miguel says six hours, it may turn out to be 10. I did my best to prepare mentally.

And yet, an hour into the hike, as we were climbing straight up on a straight incline, battling through thorny bushes and avoiding animal droppings, scooting belly-down under barbed-wire fencing, I was ready to give up. I was at the back of the group, several yards behind, sweating profusely and breathing hard... "One hour more..." Miguel promised, then added the caveat, "Well, one Mexican hour." There was so much undergrowth that I for the life of me could not see where I was stepping...and then, the straw that broke the camel's back, the cherry on top of this misery sundae: I literally tripped and fell on my knees with a thud. Miguel's son turned around to make sure I was okay, then politely continued on, but I was fuming! I was regretting coming and complaining to myself, totally focused on the hardship of climbing this damned mountain! I could feel my morale collapsing on itself like a dying star.

I've been especially noting lately how easily I get discouraged when things become difficult. It doesn't take much at all for me to say, "Well, I'm out of here!" when things don't come to me naturally, easily and effortlessly. Or, if something does require a lot of effort, and involves failure, I need lots and lots and I mean lots of affirmation and encouragement to keep going. Case in point: going to the gym.

People who know me well know that I'm not one to push myself very hard. To me, just stepping foot in the gym is already a victory in and of itself. A month and a half ago, though, I made a resolution to dedicate six days a week to a weight-lifting program, with the goal of keeping it up until 20 December 2013. I thought it was reasonable enough; I enjoyed the routine, the structure and being able to see steady progress from week to week.

And yet, six weeks in, I was absolutely dragging @$$ getting to the gym, and even dreading it! Why? Because as from week to week I was getting stronger, I was increasing the difficulty by adding weight... So it was getting harder and harder, and I was tired of pushing myself so very hard! I arrived at a critical crossroads--give it up or keep going? As with today's hike, I decided to keep going, though nearly everything within me was screaming to just forget it already, and move onto something requiring less effort, less discipline, less perseverance.

I've been thinking lately about what it means to be in something 'for the long haul.' What does it mean to make a commitment, and to hold true to that commitment even when sometimes all the pleasure is gone from it, or the 'benefit' of that commitment can't presently been seen, or if I just don't 'feel' like staying true to it?

I am sharing all of these anecdotes because they are somewhat analogous to my commitment to God, my faith. For awhile now, my spiritual life has felt somewhat hollow and artificial--perfunctory almost. Somehow, nurturing my inner life through prayer, reading the Bible, reflection and meditation, fell out of my daily routine and habits. I had forgotten its value, and after awhile of neglecting it, began to consider it a tiresome duty, something I didn't really want to do, but knew that I should, like flossing my gums. My motivation to maintain my spiritual life was practically zero. I could see that it was slipping away from me, but it was like I was an outsider, looking indifferently on as I became more and more estranged from God.

How, at the age of 23, had I already 'burned out' spiritually? How had something that was arguably the most important thing in my life dropped down to the bottom of my list of priorities?

So again I return to the theme of my giving up easily when the going gets rough, and of hating to push myself. In the past 23 years, interacting God has been, frankly, intense. It has required me to re-examine how I understand the world, and myself... It has meant facing the 'demons' of self-doubt, fear of suffering, perfectionism... I've made decisions and life-choices in order to stay faithful to God and his holiness... Well, sometimes I don't want to always be grappling with huge metaphysical questions, and sometimes I don't want to see a mirror held up to my own soul to see the ways in which I deceive myself just to feel better about myself. Instead of taking a deep, honest look into the way things truly are, I'd much rather escape and live in ignorance. And trust me, there are plenty of convenient distractions in life to avoid facing the dysfunctions and hard realities of life.

But hiding in a cave from truth, I realized, is not satisfying. It's not 'real.' It's not actual living. And through a series of particularly incisive sermons at church, I realized that it was time to stop playing at religion and get back to actually engaging with God mano a mano, like old times.

You know what, though? It takes work, and discipline and perseverance--the very things I spend a lot of energy dodging in almost every area of my life. I'm trying to get back into the habit of praying daily, reading the Bible and actually paying attention to the meaning. To be honest, it's been a bit rough since I'm not accustomed to it anymore. And a lot of the time, as with the gym, I am dreading it and anticipating it to be difficult and demanding before I even crack open a book/journal.

"In arid times, when duty seems difficult and daily responsibilities have no attraction, when all spiritual consolation is denied us and the beautiful light that illumines life is veiled, in these times humble prayer alone can steady us and give us hour by hour and day by day the determination to act 'against our will.'"

-Servant of God Elisabeth Leseur

All this to say, I am coming up against my own immaturity lately. I've known for awhile that being easily discouraged, and constantly seeking comfort over challenge are some tendencies I'm going to need to overcome if I want to grow up for real.

"No discipline seems pleasant at the time, but painful. Later on, however, it produces a harvest of righteousness and peace for those who have been trained by it" (Hebrews 12:11).

But it's training time... And I'm doing everything in my power to dig deep and stay the course.

Could I live without it?

I've been thinking about personal expectations versus reality, and how we run into trouble when they do not match up with each other. God bless the volunteers that come to help out at the daycare, but in the past couple of weeks I've seen a tragic mis-match between expectations and reality, leading to anger and frustration! Volunteers arrive expecting to be the best helpers ever in the classroom (e.g. heroes/saviors), overestimating their skills, and then are disappointed when they feel 'underutilized' because our teachers actually are competent at their jobs? Or they expect everything to be really easy and effortless, when they haven't taken the time to learn Spanish, so they get mad that they can't understand the teachers and kids, or can't express themselves? I dunno, sometimes it just baffles me, but then I have to remember that it's a universal, human thing to have unrealistic expectations.

In moving here to Mexico I think I underestimated the adjustments that I would have to make in living here. I figured that since I was still in North America, basically surrounded by a ton of (retired) Americans, it wouldn't be that much different from being home in the States. And it's been a journey but I'm finally acknowledging that it's a big change, and there are going to be things I'm just going to have to get used to living without, since I'm here instead of there!

I've been thinking about self-deprivation and self-denial a bit...also, delayed gratification. It's been interesting trying to budget here, and I'm doing lots of 'Is it worth it?' calculations every time I go to the store. When I was here three years ago I denied myself a lot of things because I wanted to be frugal. I had a truly terrible diet of cereal for dinner, or maybe scrambled eggs. Granted, I was 20 years old and couldn't cook for sh1t. This time around, I'm allowing myself the luxuries of cooking real meals (chicken teriyaki, spaghetti, curry) with relatively expensive ingredients (mirin, spaghetti sauce, brown rice, sesame oil), but am still trying to be fiscally conservative.

Frugality can get to the point where nearly every decision is rendered an act withholding pleasure (in the form of purchasing nicer things)--and it can almost become a prison or a punishment.

I could attempt to live a 'simple' life in solidarity with my Mexican co-workers, opting for less extravagances as to be more 'authentic' or whatever. But I'm realizing more and more how much class privilege has spoiled me, and how much I have internalized the consumerist values of the United States. I actually do feel unhappy without the 'creature comforts' (and more) that I had back home. Should I feel ashamed about this? I don't know. Should I just suck it up and stop whining like a first-world a-hole? Maybe.

Yesterday I treated myself to four nice things:

1. four pairs of leggings (at 50 pesos each) to keep warm at night (no central heating here),
2. four pairs of long socks (also for the cold), 
3. strawberries (what a treat!) and 
4. pan dulce from the bakery down the street (I usually just try and wait until it's served for breakfast at the daycare). 

The truth is that buying these things for myself notably lifted my mood. So indulging my consumerist shopping withdrawals in 'moderation' has proven quite helpful. I think it will be a constant negotiation from here on our as to whether I can 'live without' something, or if it's worth it to indulge a little, and through that indulgence, enjoy a little bit of happiness, too. 

Dia de los Muertos

Alfeñiques made of sugar to put on altars honoring the dead.

Dapper Dani.

Bailando en el patio.

Mari Chuy and Zoe all dressed up.

Aldo being his amazing self.

Whimsical filo dough at Cafe Lavanda. 

Desfile de la Catrinas

Convivencia

Although only a couple of months have passed for me in San Miguel de Allende, I've been surprised at the many opportunities I've had to spend quality time with the people around me. It's been really nice.

This past Thursday one of the teachers, Vero, celebrated her birthday at her house, inviting all of the staff at the daycare and a few of the moms. Each person brought what they could: fried pig skin, raw pig skin, pretzel-like sticks, doritos, pico de gallo, shredded cabbage, pop, beer, and cake. While the women worked together to prepare the food, chatting the whole time, the young children played in the yard, running around and screaming with delight. It reminded me so much of the house parties I attended growing up, full of laughter and good food and good conversation. I felt so honored to be a part of the celebration, because besides Carolyn (the former Volunteer Coordinator), I was the only non-Mexican there! It was so fun to spend time with the teachers and moms outside of the daycare setting, and the atmosphere was so happy and bright.

There have also been some good times of convivencia with the volunteers as well. I'm amazed at how thoughtful, inquisitive and intelligent they all seem to be. I suppose it's because they are all international travelers, but they have a perspective of the world that isn't quite so insulated and ignorant as the average American's, so it's quite refreshing. Whether sitting around the living room talking about different countries' university entrance requirements or sun bathing on the roof chatting about the true meaning of happiness (and its connection to wealth, access to health care and education, etc.), I get really excited thinking that this is part of my 'job.'

Even at the gym I'm starting to feel more at home. While Andreas was here I started going with him six times a week, and now feel welcome and a gusto there. The owner, Beto, greets me by name and since Andreas left has had to help spot me or correct me so I don't injure myself. While I'm resting we chat about the weather and other random stuff. And otherwise, since it's such a small gym, I see the same six or seven people whenever I go and they all seem pretty nice.

It's so different living in such a relatively 'small' town (population 70,000 versus 3.26 million in Seattle). When I'm at the market I'll see Sai (one of the two-year olds in Maestra Diana's class) walking with his Dad hand in hand. Or yesterday after the gym Laura (a volunteer from Denmark) and I went to buy some miniature ofrendas made of sugar and walking by a cake shop I saw Alexa (another two-year old in Diana's class) sitting on a stool, and said hello. "Look who it is!" she yelled to her mom, who came out to chat for a bit. When I was working in Seattle, I thought it was a lot to be in the street and see someone I knew once, maybe twice a month. Here, I barely go out, but I almost always see someone I know! It's definitely different from what I'm used to, but I think it's really cute and something that I could learn to appreciate.

Two-Month Mark

Guanajuato Take II

This past Saturday was the first weekend of the international music festival in Guanajuato, El Cervantino. I went with two of the volunteers to see Los Hermanos Carrillo, a group playing traditional music from the region of Veracruz, Mexico (sones jarochos). The group leader was very personable, and their encore song was a stylized version of "La Bamba."

In the evening, went to see Amon Tobin, an artist from Rio de Janiero, Brazil, for a free outdoor electronica concert that started at 9:00pm. It was packed out with young people--I would say at least 95% were Mexican. Throughout the concert, it never stopped smelling of cigarette smoke. Since the 'concert' is basically him pressing different buttons, they made it more interesting by projecting animated images and designs onto an array of white cubes that were synchronized with the music. The crowd was more or less subdued at the beginning, but by the end almost everyone was bobbing their head and screaming for a triple encore.

Fundraising

Sometimes life is pleasantly surprising. When I came to work yesterday morning, Donna informed me that a volunteer who came nine years ago had sent a check to our office in the States for $10,000. Miguel was over the moon, letting me know that $10,000 covers all of our operating costs (teachers' salaries, food, office supplies, maintenance, Volunteer House expenses) for two entire months. It's incredible to me that someone who was here so long ago still thinks about his time at the daycare and was so touched by his experience that he donated so generously almost a decade after the fact. Amazing.

The idea of fundraising makes me squirm a bit because I feel uncomfortable asking people for money. However, I take comfort in the fact that actually there are a lot of people out there that are just looking for worthy causes to donate to, but haven't found something yet that's a good fit. Wednesday we had a fundraising event at a nearby bed and breakfast/mask museum, Casa de la Cuesta.

Zelina, Alice, me, Maria and Colleen

Surprisingly enough, around 90% of the attendees had never heard of Casa de los Angeles before, so it was a good opportunity to share about the work that we do. One of our volunteers, Eimear, has a background in sales, and used her skills to talk us up at every opportunity. She shared with one of the attendees that the Casa de los Angeles documentary brought her to tears. She is a keeper.

Despite my discomfort with talking to strangers, I managed to speak with four or five people and share my journey of having been a volunteer three years ago and of returning to work as the Volunteer Coordinator. Most of the attendees were older adult Americans who spend part of their time here in San Miguel de Allende and another part either back in the United States or in another part of Mexico (usually a beach). We'll be having events like these every month through March, so hopefully with each successive month we'll build momentum as participants tell their friends about the amazing time they had talking with young volunteers from around the world, listening to live music and drinking margaritas.

So thankfully, due to the combined earnings of the September Global Giving campaign, the Chicago Marathon, the generous $10,000 check from the former volunteer and the Casa de la Cuesta event, we should be okay at least for the next short while at Casa de los Angeles.

Transitions

It's been interesting getting accustomed to living in the Volunteer House with all of the other volunteers. It feels a bit like college yet with a lot more change, as some volunteers are in and out within a week while others stay for 11 weeks at a time. Today marks a significant transition for me. The only volunteer that has been here since I've started the position of Volunteer Coordinator left early this morning! He's probably the one I've gotten along with and gotten to know best so far, so it'll be strange not having him around. We've been going to the gym six times a week together (he's basically been my personal trainer) and usually in the evenings we watch a movie while doing Sudoku or working on solving a rubik's cube. I even realized that I had been spending so much time with him that I had started to talk like him--inflection and emphasis and all. He's like the brother I never had.

My job is kind of remarkable because I get to spend a lot of quality time with the volunteers by living and working with them. I start to understand the way that they think, where they're coming from, their idiosyncrasies...and then they head on to continue with their lives as I continue mine. In a way, my background in social work has prepared me well for this because in my past internship experiences, despite getting attached to many of my clients, I had to say goodbye to them at one point or the other.

It's all quite cyclical. Andreas left today, then two volunteers from Denmark arrive on Sunday and will be here for two months. So I get to start all over again getting to know new volunteers as they get to know me. At this point I can only be thankful for the time I've had with each of the volunteers I have met so far. They've all definitely been unique and for the most part fascinating in their own way.

Reflections on Culture Shock and Cultural Fluidity

I've been reflecting on what it means to be living in another country and what multiculturalism is really. San Miguel de Allende is unique because there are (relatively) so many Americans here--the second-highest concentration in all of Mexico, Miguel tells me. The notion of 'culture shock' or losing one's bearings because the environment is so culturally different, does not exactly apply to me in my job or place of residence.

I'm grateful to have grown up in the Seattle metropolitan area, because it primed me to just expect diversity basically at all times. So now that I'm here in Mexico with Mexican co-workers and living in a house with Danish, British and Israeli volunteers, it's not so much a cultural 'shock' as it is an extension and continuation of learning to live in an increasingly multicultural environment.

It's been interesting to note that due to my 'uniqueness' as it were (as an Asian American), I'm basically shattering the stereotypical notions that volunteers and Mexicans have of what it means to be American. I am so perplexed sometimes at the ignorance of people that I meet here, like Mexicans that cannot and will not accept that I was born in and lived in America all my life, and insist that I must be from China or Korea, despite my persistent urging that I am not. And when they pull their eyes back into slits, telling me that I have Asian features, I just really don't even know what to say, I'm so appalled. Not that they're doing this maliciously, but nonetheless I am rendered speechless.

Being here is an opportunity to continue to explore and embrace the complexity of personal identity, rather than relying on cultural generalizations to 'understand' others. I feel as if I've already learned volumes just by chatting with the teachers and volunteers about my family, my church, the food that I eat and the holidays I celebrate. I know this is only scratching the surface of meaningful transcultural dialogue, but this is seriously the stuff I live for.

Breaking stereotypes, revising old ways of thinking and growing into more complex, sophisticated ways of understanding the world--it's just so sexy, what can I say? Just one of the many reasons that I'm so thankful for my job.

Celebrating everything...and then some.

This past Sunday we celebrated the Dia de San Miguel Arcangel, who is the patron saint of San Miguel de Allende. There have been and still are events every day commemorating him.



There were several parades featuring festive paper stars, traditional dances by local indigenous groups (Otomi, Chichimeca) and an hour-long fireworks show in the jardin both Saturday and Sunday.



Celebrations go all out. It's the first time in my life that I've attended a parade and the procession passes by two times(!) with music, dancing, cheering and the lighting of rockets that explode in the air and sound like a gunshot. The rockets went off throughout Friday morning until 4:30. I just groaned, rolled over and fell back asleep.



Also in celebration of San Miguel Arcangel, there have been at least five bull fights. I went with one of the volunteers, and after killing four bulls per ritual (spearing, pricking with tissue paper-covered spikes, stabbing with a saber and finally, severing the spinal cord at the neck with a dagger), they made an open call for members of the audience to enter the arena to play a 'game' wherein a bull is released and participants try to lure it through goal posts to win, whilst avoiding being impaled by the charging bull's horns. It was just incredible and so dangerous.

In addition, there has been a fair going on for the past three weeks that will continue for the next week with all kinds of amusement rides, fried foods and cotton candy, and nightly live concerts on two large stages. Since it's sponsored by the government (the town's President), admission is 15 pesos and you can go on as many rides as you want at no additional cost.

In addition, the town is celebrating San Francisco de Asisi (St. Francis of Assisi), with large parties to honor him. The past two nights I've listened to live concerts in the jardin that go on until 3AM interspersed with shouts and cries of the enthused crowd. And yesterday there was a parade to finally conclude the celebrations of San Miguel Arcangel. How is it possible to celebrate so much all the time?

I have realized that culturally it is so much different here than what I'm used to. Japanese culture is very inward, reflective, meditative and self-contained. Here in Mexico, everything is alegre and about spending quality time together, festivals, folklore, music and noise. It's great, but I just think I've reached my saturation point, especially on the parades. There have been at least five in the past three weeks! I just stopped going out to see them.

The next big celebration will not be until early November, which is All Saints' Day and the Day of the Dead. Oh, and also Halloween. I'm reminded that I'm still in North America when I go to the American-owned superstores and see stands full of cheap masks, gaudy pumpkin decorations and even Christmas ornaments.

Life is still good, though. Volunteers are coming and going, the weather is sunny often enough for me to get my laundry done and I have a bag full of fun-sized Twix and Snickers bars in my room, courtesy of my parents.

Until next time!

Te Acostumbras

For the past two weeks there have only been two volunteers in the house, so it's been a nice and chill time. I've been reflecting a lot on what it means to adjust to life here in Mexico. While I would certainly admit that the life I live now is one of relative extravagance, and that I lack nothing that I need, there are small things here and there that, though they be small, are still adjustments nevertheless.

 

Things I've learned (mostly) the hard way:

 

· The freshest and cheapest eggs are available at the pollería on Canal Street, where they keep whole raw chickens out on the counter, ready to butcher. However, they are closed on Sundays.

· It is shameful to be seen in public with unkempt hair, rumpled clothing or in sweats.

· It’s common for men to wear backpacks but for some reason, women don’t. Women also don’t wear shorts or capris if they can help it.

· I can fit exactly three pairs of jeans in my sink to wash them. Laundry day for jeans is every fourth day.

· The public library closes at 7:00pm and the post office closes at 4:30pm on weekdays.

· When it rains really hard, the pilot light on the water heater may go out and need to be re-lit. I learned this after two days of cold showers.

· Before going to the kitchen to prepare dinner, apply bug spray liberally. Mosquitos will bite the arch of your foot if you so give them the opportunity.

· When in a public place, remember that using the bathroom will cost you three or four pesos.

· Commodities that only non-Mexicans would buy are subject to extreme price discrimination, so choose wisely: peanut butter is $8, women’s shaving cream is $9, a bar of dark chocolate is $4, Prego spaghetti sauce is $6, tofu is $5 and shoga is $5.

· Good luck finding cheddar cheese anywhere.

I think to myself at times about my life of luxury and convenience in the United States. It was definitely a nice life. But in terms of the cost/sacrifice of moving to Mexico, they are far outweighed by my current level of life satisfaction. The fact that I am satisfied with the nature of my work (a delicious mix of administrative, multicultural, multigenerational and social tasks), and the balance of my work and leisure time is huge.

I was commenting to my friend via Skype the other day about the difference between my former job in downtown Seattle and my current job with Casa de los Ángeles in San Miguel de Allende. Since graduating from college I have been seeking a job that will (i) grant me opportunities to use my talents and abilities, (ii) supply my basic needs and (iii) contribute to anti-oppression/social justice work in a way that is ethically compatible with my core values and beliefs.

Ladies and gentlemen, I think I may have hit the mother lode here because so far, all three criteria have been met if not surpassed in my past five weeks on the job. What can I say? I am happy here.

Little hassles here and there aside, I’m pretty freaking sure that this is exactly where I am supposed to be. Thank you, Lord!

BIG WEEKEND

It was a full weekend, that's for sure. Get ready for a long post with lots of pictures.

Friday: Grito de la Independencia at the daycare

Some of the cuteness. Marichul and her little bro, Father Hidalgo (we had three dressed up), and Aldo

 

Posing with the teachers. (L to R) Mari, Cinthia, Flor, Donna, Sofi, Diana, Erika, Ana, me

Rina (volunteer), Nesvi, little Ignacio Allende (Alan), and Vero

 

Volunteers. Rina, me, Andreas, Alice, Gabriel. "This is the first time volunteers have ever dressed up for El Grito!" Donna remarked in passing.

To celebrate El Grito de la Independencia (the shout which marked the beginning for Mexican independence from Spanish colonial rule), we all gathered in the main square to shout Viva Mexico! among other things (view the video here). Many of the children didn't quite get what exactly was going on, but it was fun all the same, because after shouting we had snacks of all kinds (pork skin two ways, pretzel-like sticks, potato chips, jello) with horchata.

In the evening we had another celebration of El Grito for church. It was a potluck with everyone bringing something to share, and everyone showed up in some version of Mexican dress or the colors of the flag (red, white and green).

Some pictures snapped by Rebeca. We played musical chairs.

 

Rebeca, me, Megan, Ana

 

Saturday: Guanajuato

On Saturday the volunteers and I left the house at 6:30am to walk to the bus station in the drizzling rain for an 1+ ride to the town of Guanajuato.

 

Snapshots of the city.

 



Guanajuato is much larger than San Miguel de Allende, and actually, there are a lot less Americans there, which is kind of a relief. It's a bit less tourist-y. Not every store sells the same overpriced "authentic" Mexican artisan wares. As Laurita would say, Guanajuato has much more variedad.

Don Quixote. Guanajuato has a theater dedicated to Don Quixote! Posing with Andreas and Alice.

La Pipila. We took a tram on rails up to this lookout, and right after taking this photo it started down-pouring. Gabriel, me, Andreas.

 

Since it was Gabriel's last weekend, we definitely made the most of the 10+ hours we had in Guanajuato! We visited the main Teatro (built in the 1900s and restored in 2004/2005), went to the Diego Rivera Museum (where he was born and lived seven years), went up to see the statue of La Pipila (legend and hero), walked all the way to the Mummy Museum (almost gave up half way there because there were so many stairs and hills), found the callejon de besos (where a small crowd gathered to cheer couples on who were kissing there?) and finally, exhausted, ate dinner at a restaurant famous for their enchiladas. Apparently it used to be an aquifer for the rainwater runoff, so you feel like you're in a bomb shelter. But the enchiladas rojas were delicious!

 



 

Alice, Andreas and I will be returning to Guanajuato in October for the international arts festival, el Cervatino. We have tickets to see a group of musicians from Veracruz that play traditional jarocho music. Since we've seen basically everything there is to see in Guanajuato, we'll probably take it much easier this time around.

 

Sunday: Grito de la Independencia

Sunday was the "big show" in the jardin (the main square in San Miguel de Allende). In the Volunteer House we had a potluck, with each person cooking something to contribute to dinner. Gabriel made mojitos two ways with chile relleno. Alice and I made nopales (cactus) and arroz rojo. Andreas made potato pancakes and beef. It was a feast! And Donna was so nice as to make us cinnamon buns for dessert.

 

At 9:00pm we left the house hoping the downpour would subside, but it just kept raining. None of us had rain jackets and Alice only had an umbrella for one. The jardin was crowded with lots of young people, although there was an older man that was so drunk he couldn't even stand up. It reminded me of my days working in Pioneer Square. We ended up ducking into a Thai restaurant/bar of all places and popped back out to watch the fireworks. It felt so dangerous because they let them off literally in the middle of the entire crowd. It looked spectacular, though! The rain really killed it. The bartenders blamed it on the hurricanes. Ugh.

 

Monday: Desfile

Monday was the parade to commemorate the Mexican independence movement. Students from schools in the area participated, wearing their uniforms and marching behind their banda de guerra (the drum lines were so cute! And there were a lot of female percussionists!).

 

 

The parade lasted for more than an hour, concluding with a tour of the firemen, police and national guard.

 

Lots of celebration, don't you think? Well, back to work now! Viva Mexico!



Old Friends and New

I had just left the house and was walking to the daycare with five of the other volunteers when all of a sudden I heard a little voice shout out "¡ABRIL!" I looked to the left and there was a small girl, wearing a uniform beneath a checkered apron, as all kindergarteners do. Her hair was in pigtails and I couldn't for the life of me figure out how in the world she knew my name.
 
Then I saw her mom and it all clicked for me. "No sé si te acuerdas de.." ("I'm not sure if you remember..") she started to say to me as I broke out into a grin. "¡Martita!" I exclaimed, "¡Ya eres muy grande!" ("You're so big!") Marta was in Male’s class when I was interning back in the day. Her mom would tell me that when they were on the bus to go home together, she’d see me walking in the street and tried to yell out to get my attention. In this picture taken in 2010 she is the furthest to the right.
 
It was so nice to see a familiar face and to be greeted after all this time; it just warmed my heart. "¡Adios!" she cried as she ran off with her mother and younger sibling following behind.
 
With small interactions like that I begin to feel that even though I have been away for three years, not everything has changed. Last Sunday I went visited the Vega family’s (Evangelina, Alberto and Laura) church which is called “Amistad Cristiana.” It’s an evangelical protestant church, and was packed out with at least 300 people. After church they invited me to their home in Manlanquín and while Laura (~14 years old) and I talked about our favorite books and movies and how we get annoyed by the frivolity of youth group meetings, Evangelina made salad and enchiladas verdes. As we ate we talked about the culture of Catholicism in San Miguel de Allende, the adoration of saints, and the reason Evangelina and Alberto chose to change churches.  

Andreas, Melanie, Sheila, me, Rina and Zelina at La Posadita restaurant.

On the work front, it’s been a pleasure spending time with and getting to know the volunteers. Some I really get along well with, and it’s sad to say goodbye. But I appreciate whatever time I have with them. It is energizing being around such big-hearted people.

Sometimes I get worried about my job because I’m afraid that we won’t be able to raise enough money through volunteers and donors to remain operationally viable. We rely completely on both to stay afloat. I just need to trust.

Happy Friday, Everyone!

Back

Whew! First week of work and life is very, very good. So far it's been enjoyable and pretty effortless. As Volunteer Coordinator, I get to interact with lots of different kinds of people: the volunteers (duh), the teachers, the children--it's definitely not boring. It's a challenge to have to switch gears between English and Spanish constantly, but thankfully the staff are really forgiving when I stutter out simple phrases that may not even be grammatically correct.

 

On Monday, Vero (one of the mom's-turned-teachers) was so kind as to invite me to her house, which is actually quite close to the daycare, and we chatted about the past few years while her children Marta, Juan Pablo and Richie watched "Bob Esponja" (SpongeBob Squarepants). Marta and Pablo come to the daycare after school (around 1:30pm) and hang out. Richie is still very young and is in Maestra Diana's class.

 

It's so different being a part of the staff at the daycare versus being a volunteer. We had a staff meeting on Monday and most of it was talking shop about very detailed issues (such as installing curtains on all of the doors and feedback on the cooking). I've met all of the other teachers before except for one, and they've all been welcoming as I figure out my job. It was good to catch up with them and ask about their kids, who are now much bigger than when I saw them three years ago!

 

I've also been able to reconnect with families at the church that I knew back in the day. The Vega family has invited me over to their house tomorrow afternoon. If you recall, Laura is the young girl (she's probably, like 16 now!) I went to see Despicable Me with at the mall three years ago. I bought her a sticker book of minions as omiyage; I hope she likes it.

 

Living in the Volunteer House has been very good! We only have six in the house right now, with two leaving in the next few days and another four arriving next week. There is a sense of camaraderie among us. Many of the short-term (one-week) volunteers want to jump right in and explore the city every single night, while the more long-term volunteers come home and lie in their beds in silence, building up stamina for the weeks ahead. One thing is for sure: at the Volunteer House, there's always someone to do something with!

 

Me, Sheila, Melanie and Laura

It's kind of a miracle but I haven't had stomach spasms yet! Maybe the bacteria from three years ago is still alive? Anyway, it's definitely a relief.

Was washing my clothes by hand yesterday in the sink and got a bit nostalgic just by the smell of the detergent, and the act of squeezing shirts dry to hang them. It just feels good to be back!

Settling In!

I was planning on waiting until I'd completed a full week of work before blogging, but the past few days have been super full, and I want to tell you about them!

As many of you know, I arrived here in Mexico on Thursday, August 22. Everything went well: both flights were on time, all baggage arrived safe and sound, and the people I sat next to on the plane were polite and considerate. It was surreal to be picked up by Donna and Miguel. As we chatted in the car, I noted how the area in only three years has developed quite a bit. My Spanish was a bit rusty, but thankfully Miguel was understanding. As Volunteer Coordinator, I am now certificada as part of the Casa de los Angeles family. Awesome!!

Friday was spent doing errands and Donna did a "brain dump" with me to explain how everything works. I already have a list of things that I want to attack starting tomorrow. The neurotic organizer within me is jumping for joy. I hope to build upon the tracking systems for volunteers, because it is very dynamic with the frequent comings and goings.

On Friday I was struck with how special this job is. Donna took me and all the other nine volunteers out to dinner, and it was fascinating to note how kind of random and unique our group was. I mean, just imagine with me: you've got me, Donna, a Japanese woman who lives in Australia, a couple from Ireland, two college students from the West Coast, an older adult female who grew up in West Seattle (surprisingly enough), a Swedish woman that's married to a Mexican man, and a young man from Denmark. In what other context would such a diverse group gather?

After dinner we stayed up chatting together, comparing our differing cultural values, senses of humor, pop culture, and legal and educational systems. It was absolutely fascinating. Did you know that in Denmark the primary targets of racism are Iranians? And in Ireland to get into a specific university concentration, admission is based solely on a point system on five different standardized subject tests based on the student's choosing?

It's been a relief to have such good volunteers as I am trying to get a hang of things. The unique thing about receiving volunteers is that since they are paying out of pocket to be here, the people that are attracted to this kind of thing are already pretty aware at least on some level...and value helping others. Volunteers are self-selecting to participate, so I'm seeing that most of them are very motivated to be of service.

Today I went to church! The location has changed and would you believe it, it's only a seven minute walk away. No more having to climb flights and flights of stairs just to reach the hotel! This new location is in a basement, for which reason Cristina calls it the "catacombs," but I think it's pretty cool. What struck me is that I was only one of two Americans present, and that there are lots of new families and young people. Apart from the Martinez family (the pastor's family), the other people I met while I was here in 2010 have moved on to other churches. As always, the church is a place of great welcoming and it was inspiring to see all the chairs filled; the place was so full that the young men had to sit on the floor while Tomas preached.

It was great to catch up with Tomas, Cristina, David and Rebeca. I didn't know this, but Cristina is leading a homeschool group for a group of young people, on top of organizing several different church gatherings. Mondays: Youth. Wednesdays: Adult Bible study. Thursdays: Prayer. This Saturday: Women. It's remarkable that the family can manage to do so much! I visited their home after church with the youth from the school and a couple of their old friends from Queretaro. It was a special time of sharing, and again I was struck at how special it was to have a cultural exchange with them as I explained my own heritage and family history. The couple from Queretaro told me that they really respect Japanese culture because there's so much emphasis on honor, discipline and hard work. That was interesting to me!

I'm looking forward to my first "official" day at the daycare tomorrow. I dropped by on Friday briefly and was able to say hello to Ana (the cook) and Vero (who was a mom at the daycare in 2010 but has since been hired on as a teacher).

Sorry no pictures yet. Hopefully soon! Thanks for following me in my adventures.

To my friends and family: I miss you, and thank you for keeping in touch with me. Drop me an email whenever!