Sudden Departure

"So you're back from Mexico."

"Yep, I'm back back."

"Weren't you going to be there a long time?"

[pause]

"I had hoped to but..."

"But God said no."

-------------------------------

It was very sad to leave Mexico but it wasn't necessarily a difficult decision. Multiple trials hitting at the same time made it such that continuing to live in San Miguel de Allende simply was not an option. All I could do was pack my bags and count down the minutes until I could make my way back to Seattle.

The few weeks leading to my departure I was weeping, sobbing, each day. I hadn't considered leaving Mexico even an option, but once I received permission from God to go, I cried out of relief and the rest happened very quickly.

I really thought that being in Mexico was my calling from God... but learned somewhat painfully that God had something else in mind for me. "It is time to live into your calling," He said, and with a broken but willing heart I've returned to Seattle to do just that.

Following God isn't necessarily glamorous. It includes failures and disappointments. I watched things I'd hoped for crumble to pieces and all I could do was cry. Sometimes the correction of God can be really painful.

I have good days and bad days. I still cry and wonder where God will take me, or if he's taking me anywhere at all. I get tears in my eyes when people ask me if I'm working or what I'm doing to get a job. I just don't have an answer for them.

One thing I know for sure: God is doing a complete work in me. "Consider it pure joy, my brothers, whenever you face trials of many kinds, because you know that the testing of your faith develops perseverance. Perseverance must finish its work so that you may be mature and complete, not lacking anything" (James 1:4-5). And for that I can be thankful.

I'll continue to share my reflections every once and awhile on my regular blog: http://aprilmidoriyee.blogspot.com. Thank you for following me on this journey.

Goodbye, Cold!

I finally think it's safe to say that the worst of winter is over!!! Phew, what a huge relief. At the beginning of the month I wore five layers of clothes to bed with four blankets and a heater trained right on me. Nowadays it's one layer, one blanket and no heater. Gosh it makes me so grateful. I won't take warm weather for granted again!

Plant sales at the park to celebrate la candelaria. Spring is coming!

Warm weather means the mosquitoes are back, but no matter. The key is to cover all your extremities (pants and long sleeves all the way)...then you only get bites on your hands. Yah, I'm basically becoming a survival expert when it comes to slight life inconveniences.

It's been actually really helpful to try and cultivate my friendships outside of the volunteers. I've been spending more time with people from church and trying to attend more evening meetings on weeknights, and reaching out to friends and family back home in the United States and making a plans with Becca, who is wrapping up her time as Volunteer Coordinator with the girls' orphanage. A month or two may seem like a long time for volunteers to be here, but really, it goes by really quickly and then they're gone! So I feel much more stable choosing to spend more time with people that aren't going to up and leave before I know it. ;-)

It's also been interesting to witness the comings and goings of the kids at the daycare. The program is quite structured here, in that the mom's need to complete their hour of service to the daycare, pick-up and drop-off their children on time, label their kids' clothes with their names, make sure their nails are cut, etc. So in the time we've been here we've lost a couple of handfuls of children because their mothers couldn't/didn't want to keep up with all of the rules. Or others have been suspended for a month because they still haven't become potty training despite months of trying to teach them. Of course, it's sad when your favorites suddenly disappear, but that's life, I guess! I hope Aldo comes back soon... I miss him.

Anyway, I'm just so relieved that the cold snap is over. It's kind of a metaphorical reminder that whatever difficult times may come, they won't last forever. It's a season, and spring will come soon enough.

In terms of prayer requests, I've been struggling with a knee injury since November that keeps hanging on. I went to see the doctor yesterday and am using a knee brace and limiting my walking as much as possible. Please pray for full healing! It's kind of necessary to walk everywhere in this town and it would be super inconvenient to have chronic knee pain here of all places.

Solitude

I've been reflecting on the need for 'alone-time' and the virtues of choosing to enjoy solitude rather than avoid it. Early on in my job, I noticed that I was spending way more social time with the volunteers than I'm used to, going to the gym, eating meals together, spending evenings hanging out in the living room. I wondered to myself for how long I could keep this up, since I thought I was a pretty hardcore introvert, so at a certain point I expected to 'over-extrovert' myself and need to withdraw.

My first four months on the job were very special because there were volunteers around that were nice and low-energy (just like me), thoughtful, intelligent... just super compatible, so it was very easy to get along with them. This month there hasn't been an instant best friend just yet, so I've had the opportunity to get back to enjoying solitary pursuits (reading, journaling, dabbling in creative writing, doing sudoku, reading some more).

And solitude is a peculiar thing, because there are times when I start writing and I look up an hour and a half later wondering where the time went. Then other times it's like I'm just trying to figure out a creative way to fill the hours until going to work the next day. That's when loneliness crops up.

This month I've chosen to be more guarded and made much less of an effort to get to know the volunteers in the interest in self-protection, since it's harder to say goodbye to volunteers if they've basically become the brother/sister I've never had, than if I maintain a respectable emotional distance. But the consequence of that is not always having someone in the house to just hang out with whenever I'm craving the ease of companionship.

So loneliness, that ugly thing. Ugh. It makes me think upon Henri Nouwen, and his writings about confronting his own emotional neediness. I know it's natural to have moments of feeling lonely and isolated, but it makes me wonder about how best to address them when they occur, rather than deny or ignore. It is not as if my goal would ever be to 'never need anyone.' That's ridiculous and also impossible. But I'm toying with the idea that in lonely moments, it might behoove me to use them as opportunities to spend some extra time in God's company in prayer and devotion, rather than trying to distract myself from the negative feelings by covering them over with the happy endings of books, movies and television shows.

One of the moms at the daycare chatted with me this morning while making copies in the office for one of the teachers, and I mentioned that I was going back to Seattle in May to be in a bridesmaid in a friend's wedding. She smiled and asked, "And you, are you married?" To which I immediately replied, "No!! I'm single. I'm single," laughing. "That's best. That's best," she replied, also laughing. As she walked out of the office I added, "[I'll get married] When God wants, but for now, I'm very satisfied to be single." :)

I think the gift of this season of my life is that I just have so much free time to pursue learning and self-discovery. Although I'm not enrolled in a formal educational system anymore, I just crave knowledge. "I love learning things!" I exclaimed to Adi one day and he just chuckled. You know, being on my own is kind of great, and though I may have periods of acute loneliness, the loneliness always seem to dissipate, giving way to another new and exciting experience meeting new people, going to new places, learning new things.

So I'm going to do my best to enjoy the time, to enjoy this time specifically in my life, with its solitude, and all the blessings that come with it.

Needing Prayers

You know the saying, 'Time flies when you're having fun?' Well, time is slow as molasses when you're not. Gosh, I've only been back in Mexico for two weeks but it feels like an eternity. I'm learning so much about prayer, and the importance of continuing to pray for what I want even if I don't see God's response immediately.

My heart is definitely still in Seattle, though I'm figuring out how to cope better with being so far away as my family continues to deal with the many crises. It is agony to sit by and watch the people I love suffer, so I all I can do is pray, send notes of encouragement, and pray some more. When it seems like everything is falling apart, I feel as if it's God and God alone who knows how it will ever be knit back together again.

I am so thankful for the support of friends and family during this time. I have called upon members of my American and Mexican church to be interceding on my grandparents' behalf, and they have been faithful to respond. On Friday I went to the church prayer meeting and ten women lifted my family up in prayer...it meant so much to me; I had tears in my eyes. I've been Skyping with people back in the States, too, to talk and pray, and that has also helped immensely.

It's so uncomfortable to be inept and helpless while members of my family are in acute pain, drained, stressed, at the end of their rope. I can't fix the situation or heal the illnesses. I'm not necessarily angry at God that this is happening... but it's so tragic to feel like someone dear to you is slipping away from you, and you can't do anything. And so I surrender to God's will and his plan.

Those of you not privy to what's actually going on may find these ramblings to be far too abstract and non-specific, but I don't want to be publicly sharing a family matter for all of the world to see. But if you believe in God, please send a prayer up to him on my family's behalf if you can. We need your prayers.

Half-Present

It's been a bit of an uncomfortable week back so far, but I am hoping that little by little things will start to feel better. Due to some family circumstances back home in Seattle, it's been tough to be fully present to the work here in Mexico, because I'm wishing that I could be back home to support my loved ones in this difficult time. I'll be back in May, which I am sure will come before I know it, but for now it's just rough. I'm thankful for the technologies of email and Skype, though. At least I have that!

It's also felt a bit odd coming back to the Volunteer House and start anew with a bunch of new volunteers. It can feel like a roller coaster getting really close to volunteers for a couple of months, and then they leave, and I have to find new friends. So I'm starting to re-think my boundaries and consider trying to cultivate and focus more on friendships with locals in the area that will be around for awhile, just so that I am not going through a continual cycle of intimacy followed by bereavement and then loneliness repeating again and again.

I am coming to the realization that as wonderful and as much of a blessing it is to be here in San Miguel de Allende meeting all sorts of people from around the world, it's still a sacrifice to be here. Especially now that I am far away from family and wish to be with them, I feel it.

It's definitely an interesting season to be in right now... I've got a bit of a case of the 'slogging-throughs.' I'm sure it'll be okay soon. Until then, I'm doing my level best to put one foot in front of the other.

A Luxurious Christmas, Indeed

I must admit, it was so nice to go back home to Seattle for a couple of weeks for the Christmas break! When I first arrived it felt so surreal. Although I'd only been gone four months, I walked into my room thinking, "Whose room is this?" On my bed was a matching purple bathrobe and set of slippers from my parents, since I had told them it was a bit of an adjustment not having indoor heating in the winter months in Mexico.

At the Volunteer House we started an inside joke regarding 'feeling at home.' For some reason in the house we have a tiny stuffed animal koala holding an Australian flag (probably a gift from a past volunteer). While we were hanging out in the patio, an American volunteer picked it up and showed it to the Australian volunteer. "Doesn't this make you feel so at home?" she asked. The question was too absurd and hilarious to forget. From then onward whenever we saw someone walking down the street with a Manchester United jersey, or a shirt with the British flag or the Beatles, we'd say to Alice (the British volunteer), "Don't you feel so at home?" Or when Andreas saw Danish butter he said, "I feel so at home right now." Basically anything brazenly or tackily and obviously related to where you're from counts as making one feel 'at home.'

Boy, but when I was in Seattle didn't I feel just so at home--all the time!!! Whereas in Mexico I'm constantly learning about the way things are done, how to do/get things, where to get things... in Seattle everything was such a cake walk! I knew the bus routes, the best restaurants, where to get last-minute Christmas presents. It was such a breeze. And the nice thing, too, is that I don't think I was away long enough to really experience any reverse culture shock. I just couldn't stop marveling at how luxurious and fancy everything was, from public transportation to restaurants to cars...just everything! And to be back in a big city again (San Miguel de Allende has a population of ~70,000 people vs. Seattle's 3.9 million), it felt good.

Christmas dinner!

I am very thankful for the time I had to spend with friends and family. My parents took pretty much all of the two weeks off of work so that we could hang out, so we went to the gym together and spent a lot of nights watching some great movies (like 2Fast2Furious). I think it was just nice to be back with people that have known me for years, because it can get kind of tough to know people and also be known with volunteers coming and going from week to week or month to month.

Without fault with every new person I met up with in Seattle came the exclamation, "You look so tan!" "Yup, no seasonal affective disorder for me," I would reply jokingly. God be with you, sun-starved Seattlelites. I am sorry.

Although it was sad to leave Seattle and say goodbye to my family, it's been great to jump feet-first back into work here in Mexico. I received a warm welcome from Miguel (he and his son picked me up from the airport), Donna (she baked me cookies!) and the volunteers (Laura and Adi left me kind goodbye notes and Macklin made me a welcome back sign). It was great to see the teachers and Angelica (the mother who helps clean the Volunteer House) as well as the children, Aldo and Mari Chuy especially.

We've got 10 volunteers currently with another arriving this weekend! So it's definitely a party. Happy New Year to you all! Looking forward to seeing what 2014 has in store.

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!