Wednesday




This morning I woke up before Irma and got out the door early for some Jesus time. I’ve had short quiet times the last few days, but today I wanted a few hours to just sit alone and think, process, and drink juice. One of my favorite things about Mexico is their juice. On almost every block, you can find someone selling fresh squeezed fruit and vegetable juices. Some stands will even add cereal, granola, yogurt, etc. You walk up and see what fruits they have, tell them what combination you want, or choose from their suggestions. Yesterday, I wanted oranges and strawberries, so I got a liter for $1.70. This morning, I felt like oranges and strawberries again, but with bananas. Another liter for $1.70. Amazing! Then this afternoon, I got just plain orange juice. I watched the juice man squeeze 8 oranges into the little baggie that they serve the juice in. It cost 80 cents. I’m not sure why it was so much cheaper, but it may have had something to do with the fact that in the bucket of “pre-squeezed” juice, several bees had met their fate and had to be avoided when dipping in for refills.

After my quiet time at Bon’s, I went exploring. I was supposed to meet some of the girls at the bus stop in the market at 1:00 to go to Tepoztlan, so I figured I’d head in that direction. I asked a sweet old man how to get to the market and out of his toothless mouth came unintelligible directions along with a lot of spit. His gestures where enough to get me on my way, though. Arriving at the market, I felt very stupid. Three stories of tightly packed booths, bags and t shirts hanging in the air, music blaring, and children darting in and out of mobs of adults lay before me. I wasn’t quite sure how to get in let alone how I might find my way out. I plunged in. It is at times such as these that I thank God for making me head and shoulders taller that 80% of all Mexicans. Both my height and a few more stops for directions got me deep into the heart of the market, the food section to be exact, where big woks bubbled up mysterious pieces of meat. And of course, there is the juice man, too. The market is almost more than the senses can take for more than 10 minutes. I began to long for fresh air and to leave the smell of raw meat behind. The ice cream man pointed me down another long corridor made of carts and human vending machines. Coming up to breathe, I saw the buses and began to search for the one to Tepoztlan.

In typical Mexican style, out 1:00 outing to Tepoztlan started by catching the 2:00 bus. Half an hour later, we found ourselves walking down perfect cobblestone streets in a perfect Spanish town. Tepoztlan is made up of seven barrios surrounded by seven mountains. In the middle sits the town square with a rustic monastery nestled in the north corner.

On our way to the center, we stopped by the famous neveria, or snow shop, where they sell literally hundreds of flavors of ice cream. Mexican ice cream cannot be compared to any ice cream in the US, though. I have never tasted anything so light, but creamy and refreshing at the same time. It's completely natural as well, so you don't feel so guilty. : ) For $1.50, we got 3 flavors in a big waffle cone. Now, you'd think that with 100+ flavors to choose from, it would have taken me forever to decide, but such was not the case. When you look closely at the menu and see that you choices include beet, celery, corn, lettuce, and avocado flavored ice cream, it becomes easy to eliminate many of the chioces. : ) Also, for you flavoring pleasure, there is powdered and liquid red hot chili which many people add to even the fruity flavored ice creams.

Now, in Mexico, everything is different, including the concept of public restrooms. My experience with public restrooms this trip has not been very good, seeing as I started the trip out by walking into the men’s room at the Mexico City airport. In Tepoztlan, like most other places, two women sit outside the door to the bathroom selling toilet paper. You pay 1 peso (10 cents) to get in if you bring your own toilet paper and 3 pesos if you didn’t. Then again, if you know ahead of time that you’re going to need more than they give you, you negotiate your price so as to get the quantity of TP that you need and proceed to walk sheepishly past all the other people in line who now know in more detail what you came to do. At this particular restroom, I paid my 3 pesos and got about 40 squares of toilet paper and a receipt!!! I wonder if they take returns if you don’t use it all?? Up the stairs I was happy to find real porcelain waiting for me. After you do your thing, you make eye contact with whoever is in line to get your stall to let them know not to go in yet. Then you move quickly to a 50 gallon drum of water at one end of the room and haul back a bucket of water to flush your toilet. If you’re lucky, there’s soap for you to wash your hands with. I considered myself half lucky, as there was a bag of laundry detergent that everyone was using at the sink. : )

Bathroom adventures behind me, I joined the others in the market for lunch (at 5:00). We had amazingly delicious quesadillas, tacos, and the like, followed by coffee in a nearby coffee bar. Then we wandered around the city looking at the tourist stuff. I didn’t buy anything, although there was beautiful stuff everywhere we looked. Tepoztlan is famous in Mexico for its witches and history of superstition, sacrifices, etc. There is definitely a spiritual heaviness there that is almost distracting.

For that reason, Irma and her friend Isra have begun a Bible study on Wednesday nights. They drive the 1 hour round trip to bring truth and light to people who want if, but are hesitant to let go of their traditions and superstitions. I was expecting that for the amount of sacrifice on the part of Irma and Isra, there would be a significant amount of people in the group. Imagine my surprise when we arrived and Don Francisco and Dona Margarita’s house, only to be met by a young Christian med student Javi. The six of us were the extent of the Bible study. We discussed ways in which our faith is tested, how John 10 talks about unbelief. The whole time, I was very aware of an elaborate altar to Mary looking down on us from the wall. We talked about idols and superstitions they have here, such as putting a wine glass on your kitchen table, filled with pebbles and with a coin underneath to bring protection. A deer’s eye on a red string around a baby’s wrist will protect him from common colds and mal de ojo, a curse that is left on a baby if a stranger looks at him without touching him. Somehow, though, these people don’t consider altars to their saints as unbiblical. Irma and Isra’s patience and love amazes me. Their dedication to this one couple’s spiritual growth is inspiring to say the least and evident in the way I saw Don Francisco and Dona Margarita entering into conversation. After our study of John 10, Dona Margarita got out the atol she had made for us earlier in the day along with different types of fresh breads. I don’t know what atol is made of, but it’s always been one of my favorite drinks. We sat around their kitchen table, talking, laughing, and watching their Wednesday night telenovela, “Fuego en la Sangre”. It seemed to be to be such a good picture of Jesus. His acceptance.

Monday

One of my main purposes in spending these two weeks in Mexico was to have some serious Jesus time. The girls here were such an encouragement to me in May, and the environment/lifestyle are so conducive to quiet time with Jesus, that I thought this would be the best place to be. The conversations I have enjoyed, the teaching I have recieved, and my personal times with Jesus have been wonderful.

So, I am including these notes from our Bible study last night. Every Monday night, the college graduates get together at El Vienese, a little coffee shop in the centro, to study and encourage each other. Last night, Marce invited a woman who works for Campus Crusade to come and speak to us. I think what she had to say is very applicable. Of course, she was speaking a mile a minute in Spanish and I was trying to take notes in English, so some things may have gotten confusing in translation, but I wanted you all to have the opportunity to benefit from her teaching as well. I would recommend that, even if you’re familiar with the story of Abraham, that you read Genesis 12 – 17 before starting.

Notes from Egresados
Cuernavaca, Morelos
El Vienese
14 de julio, 2008
Speaker: Ingrid

Phases of Promise and Covenant
Genesis 12-17

The time of CALL:
Genesis 12 – The moment of God’s call on our lives is when we accept him. Then, the call or “promise” continues as he asks us to change our lifestyle for him. He asks us not so much to leave our life, but to leave certain attitudes, actions, conversation, etc. Part of evangelism is bringing Jesus into the lives we were living before we met him. We must, however, take care to bring him into every area and that may mean not going to the same places with our friends, not engaging in the same conversations at work, not watching the same movies.

The time of PROMISE:
Genesis 15:1a – “Do not be afraid. I am the one who protects you.”
God is telling us not to fear. Period. This is a confidence that can come only from knowing what he says right afterwards, “I am the one who protects you.” This overrules any fear we could experience.
- Don’t fear the future. “I am the one who protects you.”
- Don’t fear others. “I am the one who protects you.”
- Don’t fear the devil. “I am the one who protects you.”
- Don’t fear the past. “I am the one who protects you.”
- Do not fear. “I am the one who protects you.”
What amazing confidence we can have in any situation if we sincerely believe these words. Even in the presence of having heard these words directly from God, however, Abram asks God, “But how can I be sure you will do this thing.” (Gen. 15:8) WHAT? How could he doubt after having just received such a promise from God?
The time of OBEDIENCE:
God’s reaction in the next three verses shows us not only his patience for our questions, but also his mercy and grace in giving us second chances. He answers Abram with a command and then…He disappears. The amazing thing is that Abram, without having heard an answer to his question, without any “confirmation”, begins to obey. What a lesson for us in the modern church. I must obey now, for I have been called now. I do not need to wait until I have an established ministry in the church. I do not need to wait until I am a full time missionary or until I am asked to lead a Bible study. I do not need to wait until I am a better Christian. Abram obeyed immediately…

The time of WAITING:
… and the he waited.
Genesis 15:12 – “and he was surrounded by great darkness and was afraid.”
How many of us know the feeling of receiving a mountaintop promise, walking into it in faith, and then waiting in darkness for what seems like forever. Where did God go? Did I hear from him correctly? Was it really me he was talking to? Did I blow it again? Nope. Wait.

The time of COVENANT:
Genesis 15:17-18 – God comes and speaks. It may have not been what Abram was expecting to hear or what he wanted to hear, but God came and God took responsibility for the covenant. He left Abram with a promise. “I will give this land to your descendants.” What descendants? If anyone ever had reason to be intimidated by the impossibility of their situation, it was Abram.

*I think it’s interesting to notice that God spoke gave Abram the command to prepare for the covenant during the day and then Abram waited. It got dark, God wasn’t there, and Abram was afraid. God’s sudden presence, the blazing fire, and his voice must have been all the more clear, unforgettable, and majestic after a time of darkness and waiting. Maybe that was the effect He was wanting all along.

The time of DOUBT & FAILURE:
Genesis 16:2 – Abram and Sarai began to doubt. Maybe God didn’t give us all the information. Maybe there’s something we need to do. Maybe God forgot? They took matters into their own hands because seeing present results became more important than believing God’s present reality. This is very applicable to today’s church as well. It can be tempting in times of doubt, what St. John of the Cross called “the dark night of the soul”, to make the gospel cheaper, easier, less demanding… in search of results. We walk into something new, out of obedience to Jesus, but without seeing any immediate fruit. We start to worry, so we force results, we restrain from speaking/obeying hard truth, we lower our standards, we change the rules, cut corners, and look the other way. Anything to see some fruit.

Abram found a way to have a child, to help God out of the dilemma he had gotten himself into. The repercussions of that one doubt based decision haunt us even today.

The time of SECOND CHANCE:
Genesis 17:1-2 – Thirteen years later God came back to Abram with a second chance. We don’t know why it took thirteen years. Maybe Abram asked God’s forgiveness for his disobedience. Maybe God was waiting until he thought Abram was ready. But this time, with the promise comes a condition, “Obey me and conduct yourself honorably” (Gen. 17:2). Abram has to keep his part of the deal.

The time of NEW NAME:
Genesis 17:5

(This wasn’t part of the devotional, but I think it is amazing, so I’m throwing it in:
God changed Abram’s name to Abraham.
God changed Sarai’s name to Sarah.
What letter was added to each name? The “h”. The Hebrew letter for “breath” or “spirit”. God breathed his Spirit into them, giving them a part of him, making them children.)

It is important to remember that the new name that we receive from God is “child”. As sons and daughters, we cannot lose our position in God’s family. A servant can be fired, a friend can leave, but there is no denying that a son or daughter is always such. 1 John 3:1 – “See what great love the Father has bestowed on us, that we should be called children of God; and such we are.”

The time of OUTWARD EVIDENCE:
At this point in the process, the doubts begin to disappear. The process of promise and covenant that was formerly inward begins to be outwardly evident. In Genesis 17:10 + 13, God gives Abraham an outward sign of obedience so that others will know that he and his descendants are God’s children.

What evidence is there in my life that I am a child of God, or that I have been in his very presence?
I spent time with Jesus this morning. Do I look any different from the people who didn’t?

Ingrid challenged us to see our personal devotions in the morning as a time to prepare ourselves with Jesus for the rest of the day. That way, throughout the day, Jesus and I already have an ongoing conversation.

The time of LETTING GO:
Notice in chapter 17, God finishes telling Abraham about the new promise, his new name, and that his 90 year old wife is going to have a baby! The first words out of Abraham’s mouth are, ‘Ha! That’s not going to happen. How about Ishmael instead?’
The good thing is that God is not only a God of second chances, but of millions of chances. He firmly repeats the promise, but gently answers Abraham’s question about Ishmael, too. God tells Abraham, ‘Let go of the result of your first mistake. I will take care of him. You need to focus on this promise that I have for you.’

The time to BELIEVE:
Abraham heard what God promised and kept his half of the bargain. Genesis 17:23

Not all of us pass through every phase of this covenant process, but most of us will live a few of these stages more than once, so it is encouraging to know that even Abraham doubted and failed and to see how God responded to him with such patience and love.

Sunday

This morning, Sunday, I woke up early and went to eat breakfast with the Oriente family. Marlene and I stayed with them when we were here in May and she lived with them for a long time when she first came to Mexico. Martha cooked a typically delicious breakfast, we talked, I gave them the gifts that Marlene and I got them, watched Cars with Davidcito, and then we all went to church together. When I first got to the Oriente house, baby Daniel was scared of me, but at church, he fell asleep in my arms and there he stayed for 2 hours. That was a gift. The sermon was excellent, called “The Test of Faith”. I think it was a continuation of a series and today he talked about how demons, second hand faith, and convenient faith can distract, hinder, and act as counterfeits to true faith in Jesus. After church a big group of us loaded into two cars and headed to a place in the mountains called Las Truchas, or the trouts. At the top of the mountain is a natural spring of water and a few of the locals have started trout farms by pulling water from the stream into big tanks. You pick the size of fish you want and then they either steam or fry it for you. It comes with a salad, tortillas, and rice. From where we parked the cars, it was about a 10 minute hike to the first trout farm and another 10 minutes to the second. We arrived very hungry to the second farm at about 3:30. Most of us hadn’t eaten since breakfast, but we decided to hike up to the spring before we ate. There is no fixed path so we ended up hopping rocks, hanging on vines, and getting pretty wet and muddy in the 20 minutes it took to get to the spring. It was absolutely beautiful! I had never seen anything like it. It actually looks like the water comes right out of the rock. The water is a bluish gray color, freezing cold, and tasted sweet. Arriving at the spring, we thought we had come to a dead end. All around were cliffs stretching way into the sky and there were thick vines hanging from ancient trees, giving everything a jungle feel. Irma and I were not content to end the day after only a 30 minute hike, so we coaxed some of the more adventurous guys to keep exploring with us. Passing a cave, we found some steep rocks with vines hanging over them and climbed straight up to the top of the cliff. From the top, it looked like we could get to the top of the mountain relatively easily, so off we went. Israel M., Victor, Lalo, Carlos, Javi and came along and we spent the next hour on our hands and knees trying not to fall back down the mountain. At the top, Javi told us that we needed to find a different way down, as that had been too dangerous. We all agreed. Unfortunately we couldn’t find a way back down. We tried going down four different ways and finally decided to try and find the stream and follow it. We found it, but it runs through boulders and down little cascades, so we got very wet and cold in the process only to arrive suddenly on a 300 foot waterfall drop to the spring where we had started. No way down. Climbing back up the mountain took us back to another dead end drop. At this point we were getting worried that it would soon be dark. After the first hour, we stopped hearing the others down below shouting for us and we stopped shouting back, concentrating only on finding a way down. Now we were wet, cold, very dirty, and our wet shoes made it difficult to not slip in the leaves and mud. We fell and slid and finally found a vine hanging over a steep drop. I was first in the exploration line, so I went down first. From the bottom I could see the spring so the others followed me and we ran to the spring to drink water. The others had long since left to go eat their trout, but they were happy to see us. Lalo’s mom was with us and they were all getting worried. I haven’t had so much fun in who knows how long. We all want to go back next Sunday…
We ordered our trout, played on the grass, and talked. Unfortunately, Carlos and Isra found out that a vital piece had fallen off of Isra’s car on the drive up, so we hauled water from the stream and the guys tried to diagnose the problem. After about half an hour we were on the road again, headed for warm showers, tea, and bed.

Saturday

Satuday was such a Mexican day. I had plans to meet Alma “sometime” in the town where she works “somewhere”. By 12:00, when Irma and I had just finished eating breakfast, I still hadn’t heard from Alma. Finally, a text came. It was a list of words for me to memorize and tell the bus driver:
-Lasser = 10 pesos
-Jojutla
-Xoxocotla
-Tequesquitengo
-taxi = 20 pesos (don’t let them cheat you!)
-Centro de Paracaidismo, por favor.
-300 metros después del hotel Vista Hermosa

Irma told me where to find the Lasser bus and off I went. On the bus, I looked around for a sympathetic looking passenger to help me know where to get off. Irma told me it would be about 40 minutes down the road. The lady across the aisle from me looked surprised when I asked her to tell me when we got to Xoxocotla. “Do you want to get off at the libramiento, the centro, or the terminal?” For heaven’s sake, I didn’t know. She said she’d try to help, and then promptly fell asleep. An hour later, we were still rattling down the highway. I was beginning to wonder if we had long since passed my stop when, as if woken by some internal clock, the lady barked, “Guera, this is where you get off!” The bus came to a slow, hissing stop, only to immediately start rolling again without opening the doors. Those of us who had stood up to get off suddenly found ourselves hurled into each other in the aisle. The lady shrugged her shoulders and said, “Well, you can get off wherever we stop next.” Bueno.

At the next stop, there was nothing in sight except a little white building with taxis parked around it. Six or eight men sat, rocked back on their heels, not looking particularly interested in taking any of us to our final destinations. They would, however, be willing to take the “guera” for 40 pesos. I think not.
“Can I get there walking?”
“No.”
“Well, then you’ll have to take me for 30 pesos.”
“OK.”

Off we went to who knows where. He dropped me at a gate and there I stood, wondering what to do next. There was a boy sitting at the gate and I asked him if he knew Alma. That’s like walking up to someone on a college campus and asking where you might find Lindsay. Thankfully, he knew an Alma and she was the same one I was looking for. He pointed up the street with his lips, like all Latin Americans do. Alma works for a skydiving company, so I spent the rest of the afternoon watching group after group be trained, suited up, take off, and fall back to earth. It looks amazing, but I’m still not tempted to spend $250 on a potentially life-threatening event. No gracias. Alma got off work at 6:00 and we met up with another friend, Isabel, to go driving around the lake. We parked the car and walked and walked, finally finding ourselves at a hillside bar where they let me try my first…well, I don’t remember what it was called, but I didn’t like it. And I don’t know it they make micheladas in the States, but beer is bad enough by itself without adding chile, don’t you think?

Then, we went into town to find ice cream, or snow as they call it here. After you’ve eaten ice cream in Mexico, you’ll never be satisfied with American ice cream. It is 100% natural. Flavors like eggnog, coconut, nut (with little nut pieces), every fruit imaginable, for just $1.20. Absolutely delicious!

Unfortunately, we were so much enjoying the ice cream that we lost track of time and I missed my bus back to Cuernavaca. We drove like mad to the next city where it would pass in 20 minutes, but missed that one as well. Fortunately, the 10:30 Pullman bus was just pulling out and I jumped on just in time. Back in Cuernavaca, Irma and I stayed up ‘til the madrugada (early morning) drinking tea and talking about… everything. And so another perfect Mexican day came to an end. : )

On the way to Mexico

I love to travel. Getting there is a definite plus, but the time spent “en camino” (on the way) is the best part. I bought a ticket out of Charlotte for two reasons:
1) it was cheaper and
2) I knew it would be an adventure.
I have not been disappointed. Three days ago, I had no idea where I was going to spend the night in Charlotte, but I had a feeling God had something in mind. He did. Through a new friend, Rod, I got connected with an even newer friend, Patty, who lives outside of Charlotte. She is the caretaker of an elderly missionary couple who have a house on the shores of Lake Norman. They retired from the mission field and built a large home with the purpose of continuing to be in ministry through hospitality. Unfortunately, Blair (the wife) suffered an illness that has left her paralyzed and they needed someone to help with the responsibilities of the house. God sent them sweet Patty and she is incredible. She cleans the house, makes meals (and brownies!), does the laundry, and just brings light wherever she is. They welcomed me into their home and sent me out this morning feeling very loved. As an added bonus, I finally saw the movie “Once” last night and loved it. Patty has seen it many times, but didn’t seem to mind seeing it yet again for me. AND…each room in the house is themed after a different country. I stayed in Mexico…duh.

This morning I arrived so early to the Charlotte airport that I was able to get on an earlier flight to Atlanta. They even bumped me to first class. “Because of your smile,” the man at the ticket counter said. I didn’t tell them that they actually did it because Jesus and I have a little “contest” going to see how much we can make each other smile on this trip. He started it and He’s winning.
While it was a gift to get out of Charlotte early and be in first class (which I took advantage of by eating lots of chips and taking little bottles of water with me when I left!), I have been sitting in Atlanta for 7 hours now due to bad weather. I’m sure there’s a reason beyond what I see. I have certainly not been bored!
They are sprawled out on the floor, sitting in little groups, talking on the phone, saying goodbye. I witnessed one of their goodbyes in Charlotte this morning that was heartbreaking. I decided to try to thank as many of them as I could. They are soldiers and today is deployment day. A few are seasoned old guys who seem to be indifferent (or maybe just resigned) to the fact that they are shipping out again. Then there are some that look like boys to me, who are just headed back for the second half of their first tour. I’m guessing the guy in Charlotte was one of them. I ate dinner with a boy from Minnesota. He asked if I wanted to switch flights with him. No, but thanks for going.
Now I’m sitting in a group of colonels and generals and CW 4’s. They’re explaining how the Army is organized, what they do over there, and what their patches and symbols mean: Eagle = colonel, Oak leaf = major, etc. I’m overwhelmed by what I didn’t know that I didn’t know. Colonels Johnson and Johnson are sitting across for me. They’re not related, but the go to the same church. They love Jesus, too. Yet another gift.
I’ve moved over here to the Army guys because my other friends, the Catalans, have fallen asleep. They are a sweet older couple from the Mexican state of Hidalgo where I now have an open invitation to come and stay whenever I like. That’s just the Mexican way. After an hour’s conversation with Don Francisco Catalan, I feel like I have a pretty good grasp on most aspects of the education system in Mexico. : )
When our flight was announced “delayed” for the third time, I went to get something to eat. In the food court, Earl (I don’t know his last name) was playing Amazing Grace on a grand piano. Amazing grace, indeed. Our plane is here.

Later:
I think there may be a secret rule among the airlines that the wait on the tarmac must be proportional to the delay in the airport. True to form, we waited on the tarmac for a good while, but by that time those of flight 8087 had become good friends, so we made the best of it. The flight was practically empty, so I sprawled out across three seats and enjoyed a stupid movie, a light dinner, and a stunning sunset. I have never seen a sunset so beautiful. The colors changed so quickly and the clouds were so gorgeous that I just sat with my mouth open for a full half hour. That was another gift that made me smile. Our descent into Mexico City was breathtaking as well. I certainly would never choose to fly into Mexico at night, so this delay was a nice opportunity for me to know this lovely city at one of its loveliest hours. It’s a massive city and as we dipped down below the clouds to see it with all the lights on, it looked as if someone dumped a bucket of sparkling diamonds across the landscape. Then to top it off, we swooped around in time to reveal a little train of airplanes following us for their landings. They looked like a string of lightning bugs across the horizon.
Arriving in Mexico City, I met the most pleasant immigration officer, said goodbye to my flight 8087 friends and ran to buy my bus ticket. I couldn’t find the Catalans to say goodbye, but just as I was getting on my bus, I saw them on the bus next to me. They came running out and repeated their invitation for me to come and stay with them in the future. Don Francisco squeezed my hand and told me they were happy to have been delayed in order to get to know me. They saw Jesus in me, I think.
Now, I’m on the bus to Cuernavaca and should get there in about two hours. Our bus driver was making me nervous until I realized that his normal breathing pattern sounds like snoring. Now we’re cool.

Here goes...

Creo que este blog lo tendré que escribir en español y en inglés porque así funciona mi mente y porque es una buena representación de mi vida. También porque, si escribo en solamente uno de los dos idiomas, estaría excluyendo a la mitad de mis amigos, que solo hablan el uno o el otro. En estas páginas aspiro documentar los pasos de mi vida, para un día poder recordar cada uno de ellos. Soy la única historiadora de esta vida mía, una tarea altamente importante para mí y mi propia memoria, pero que probablemente producirá algunos “posts” que no tendrán ningún valor al lector. Por esta razón, mientras definitivamente escribiré detalles personales y algunos acontecimientos cotidianos y aleatorios, trataré de usar este espacio cibernético para notar las cosas más importantes que estoy aprendiendo, esperando que tal vez puedan ser de ayuda a mis compañeros en el camino.

Soy una persona muy joven y todavía me falta muchísimo para aprender, pero fuentes de sabiduría me rodean en forma de mis amigos. En conversaciones compartidas con ellos, me considero tan rica como si tuviera mil dólares por cada una. Son conversaciones que me encandilan con sus detalles, tesoros de sabiduría, y como me llevan a otros lugares y a nuevas alturas de conocimiento. Me encanta pasar unas horas con un café en la mano y una o dos personas a mi lado, compartiendo nuestras vidas y retando nuestras propias ideas para poder crecer más. Asi que este blog será como un espacio donde puedo compartir la riqueza que es mía en los pensamientos que he compartido con los demas y los suyos que han sido regalado a mi.


I think I will have to write this blog in both Spanish and English, partly because my mind now works in both languages and sometimes gives me thoughts in one in particular and partly because, by writing in only one of either language I would be excluding half of my favorite people from being able to read. In these pages, I hope to record the “steps” of my life, in order to one day look back and remember each one. I have never been good at paper journaling, so perhaps this approach will meet with more success. I am the only historian of my own life, a task that therefore is very important to me and my ability to remember the individual pages of my story. For this reason, while I will obviously write about silly personal details and random daily occurrences, I will also try to use this “space” to record the most important things I am learning in the hopes that any visitors to these pages might find something useful.

I’m a pretty young person and I still have so much to learn, but I am surrounded my fountains of wisdom in the form of my wonderful friends. I consider myself rich in conversations…spoken words, shared with me over cups of coffee, desserts at Kaminsky’s, and late night walks along the Battery. Each conversation leaves me dazzled with its own unique details, treasures of wisdom. I’m amazed at how each one carries me to new places and to new levels of understanding. I love nothing more than to spend a few hours with coffee in hand and one or two people across the table, sharing life and challenging each other to grow and learn more. So this blog will be like my little space to share the richness that is mine in the thoughts that have come to me through these conversations, and the thoughts others have been generous enough to share with me.


to be continued...

another long one from Mexico


Hello folks,This trip is wonderful….on so many levels. It has been the perfect pace of vacation for both Marlene and I. We’ve stayed up late, slept in, ate wonderful food, spent precious time with people and just been here. Much time has been spent with the children, loving on them and entering into their lives. A few days ago, Sheila had the day off from school, Marlene was out visiting, so I had some concentrated time with Sheila. We took a walk, ate ice cream and looked at pictures of my family, Charleston , etc. She’s very quiet, but in a long period of time like that together, she opened up and talked to me a little bit.Marlene and I aren’t planning on going to Acapulco anymore, as she needs to be here in Cuernavaca in case she gets news to come home quickly for her dad. So far, it looks like she’ll be staying here as long as he remains stable. I’ve been doing a bit of email communication for her just so she doesn’t have to repeat things over and over, and in doing that I’ve seen the updates coming in as well as the replies she gets from friends who are praying, all of which confirm that she should stay here and receive what God has for her here. Those have all been extremely comforting, and I’m grateful that God has given me the opportunity to be here with her on this trip for what help I can be. If she does have to leave, I have been so accepted by the people here, that they would not even let me consider leaving early. M has been considerate to give me one on one time with some of the girls here, and friendships are developing that I know will continue after I leave.

I continue to fall more and more in love with this country…in so many little ways that it is overwhelming at times. Of course, I’m in a kind of honeymoon mindset still, but I think it is safe to say that God’s purposes in bring me here were more than just my personal benefit or to support Marlene. He may have a place for me here in the future. This trip has definitely felt like a kind of “mission trip”, but “mission” in the sense that we are coming to share life with Christians in another part of the world and share Jesus together. That is the mission of this trip.We’ve been very “latin” about out lifestyle here, falling back into old, familiar patterns for both of us. Nothing happens until it happens here. We wake up with the expectation that we will probably eat breakfast sometime soon, but apart from that, nothing has been set in stone. We’ve sat in a lot of café’s, had lots of long conversations, walked all over the city, gone to movies, sat and talked more and more. It’s heavenly!!

Yesterday was a pretty typical day: We woke up late, since the tremendous thunder and lightning display had kept us up for a while. It was absolutely beautiful, causing me to sit at our picture window and gasp and every streak of lightning and window shattering clash of thunder. My dad has instilled in me a intense love of God’s thunder storms. We slept with the windows open and were awakened by a refreshing rain falling into our bed in the middle of the night. In the morning there was a cool breeze and the city felt clean and new, so we walked the 15 minutes to an Italian style café in the town center. There we had coffee, baguettes with eggs and cheese, cookies, salad, a fresh strawberry smoothie (and internet access!) for just $3.50 a piece! We walked back home, picked up what we needed for devotionals, and headed back into the center for time with Jesus. That lasted a good 2 hours and we both went back home feeling refreshed.

Lunch with the family followed (meat, veggies, and tortillas) and then we took shower #2 of the day. Here, you really need to shower at least 3 times a day, just to be able to stand the heat! By the time we looked presentable, it was time to meet Sheyla (who little Sheila was named for) at the mall. I think Sheyla is like a director of a branch of Intervarsity here in Mex, called Compa, but I could be wrong. She travels all over the world, speaking, etc. In anticipation of a meeting she has coming up in Singapore , we met at Starbucks for an English class for her, Spanish class for us. We all were pleased with how much we learned in 3 hours! We took a taxi to the mall to meet Sheyla, a rare thing for us, since we’ve been walking everywhere, but it was a divine appointment. Our taxi driver was unusually chatty and it turns out he has children in the states, in Omaha , NE where I was born. We chatted about nonsense for a while, but then he started telling us about Jesus. He told us how he sees his job as a double job, to drive people around and share Jesus with them at the same time. “If I had know you to güeras spoke such good Spanish, I would have started evangelizing you as soon as you got in the taxi,” he said. I think we were able to encourage him as much as he did us. As we left him, he asked out names and told us his, Salvador . Savior.

Leaving the mall at 9, we decided to walk the 5 miles home so that we could stop by Dona Pali’s on the way. She was sitting at her table, Bible opened in front of her. Her eyes lit up to see Marlene and she listened intently to all the updates on Marlene’s dad. Her occasional interjection of, “paratopera” into the conversation let us know exactly what she wanted it to. What an incredible woman!

Arriving at home, so tired and so ready for showers, we found that the kids had accidentally locked our door, the only one in the house without a key. I tried to apply some of the skills I had learned in Honduras (breaking and entering and such), but to no avail. Fortunately, the family was out of town last night, so we slept on the girls’ bed. Marlene was in a talking mood, so I heard a bunch of her stories from all over the world, prompting me again to beg her to write a book. This morning, we got a locksmith to come open the door around ten, watched a movie, and are now at a café. Shakira is singing “Hips don’t lie” in the background and behind her I can hear Mariachi and Norteño bands walking around the center playing there songs to the mothers who are out today (it’s Mother’s Day in Mex). There are horns honking, quiet conversations buzzing around me in Spanish, a nice little Mexican bird hopping on the wall above me. I feel at home, but missing all of you muchly. Thanks for reading, thanks for praying, thanks for being in my life.
Love, Mandie

a long letter from Mexico


Hey folks,I am in Mexico and I am happy. I promised a "long email" and this gives a new meaning to that description, so either delete it or grab a cup of coffee and come experience Mexico for a bit.Flying into Mexico City , Marlene and I were so excited, but watching Jesus’ excitement was even more fun. He fell asleep before we took off from Charleston and slept through the landing in Atlanta , so when we got on the flight to Mex City , it was his first knowledge of our trip. We had been singing a Spanish song to him in the airport… “Volamos, volamos”…and when we got on the plane it was as if for the first time he realized why we had been singing that. He gasped, his already big eyes opened even wider and he threw himself across the three seats to the window. There he stayed, nose pressed against it, only turning every few minutes to gasp and show us what he was seeing. He fell asleep after about 30 minutes and slept soundly until I woke him up to see our landing in Mexico City .

We went easily through customs and were given visas for 180 days. I understand that is quite unusual. Generally, they only give you exactly the amount of days you’re asking for ( 17 in our case). So, maybe I’ll stay for 180…We were met at the airport by Yuri, a friend of Marlene’s from her Compa days who I have known only through facebook and email. It was sweet to watch their reunion after a year apart. Jesus’ family appeared shortly after Yuri. In true Mexican style, they came aunts, uncles, grandparents, babies, and second cousins twice removed. He went to them easily. I had more trouble letting him go than I thought I would. We ate lunch with Yuri and then jumped on a 2 hour bus ride to Cuernavaca . Once here, we took a taxi to David and Martha’s house where I saw another sweet reunion. This family loves Marlene so much and easily accepted another guera (white person).

David and Martha are incredibly Christians and so humble, loving, and genuine. They love other cultures and want their kids exposed to them. They are a beautiful to watch as a couple and take so much joy in being parents. None of Martha’s sisters have been able to have children, so each of these four are a miracle. There are four kids: Sheyla (10), Diana (7), Davidcito (3), and Daniel (14 mo.). All of the children were shy of me for the first hour or so, but slowly Sheyla and Davidcito and I began to make friends. The baby cried when I looked at him for too long. Seeing blue eyes for the first time must be quite traumatic. Diana is just very shy in general. When she talks, you have to lean in as it is just barely above a whisper, but boy does she have a lot to say! We have become very good friends in the last 24 hours. Davidcito adores me. He is spoiled rotten, though, and that has caused us to have a few minor disagreements. For example, I have the nasty characteristic of being the only person in the family to say “no” to him on a regular basis. Yesterday we had a major battle over taking turns, after which we ignored each other for a solid hour. I think we were mutually disgusted with each other. Then, slowly he began sneaking up to me and saying, “hola Mandi”, slipping his little hand into mine, until finally at bed time he asked me to forgive him and told me he loved me. What’s not to love? He also wears a superman costume, complete with the cape, 24 hours a day. He will not take it off to bathe, so he smells a bit nasty and there is a thin brown crust on most of the outfit, but couldn’t be more loveable. The baby has decided that blue eyes are actually an attractive quality in a friend, and even cried and tried to follow me when I left the room today. I foresee a return visit to this place in the future. : )

Yesterday morning, we ate a typically healthy Mexican breakfast. Martha is very health conscious and cooks with little salt and fat, including lots of fresh fruits and veggies in every meal. That’s a great change from Honduras . Since this email is not going to any of my Honduran friends, I will say that Mexico is growing on me in ways that Honduras never did. I am seeing things here that were missing there. Granted there are things that I am missing about Honduras , like knowing my way around the city and how much a taxi driver should charge for a ride to the centro, but overall I like Mexico more than HN. Marlene and I went for a run through the city Friday morning before breakfast and for the first time, I noticed the altitude affecting me.

This morning (Sunday), we walked the city for a little over 4 hours and it felt like as much of a workout as when I run a few miles in the morning. We came back to the house hot and sweaty, only to find out that the water tank is empty. The water has still not come this morning.On Friday afternoon, we drove out to Atlatlaucán with the family. It is a small pueblo about 2 hours from Cuernavaca . We went in the family’s car in true Mexican style. David drove, Marlene in the front seat with Sheyla on her lap. Martha was in the back with the baby on her lap, I held Davidcito and Diana was in the middle of us. It’s a small car, but I thought we could handle the heat and being pressed up against each other for a short drive. However, we had not yet reached the car’s passenger carrying capacity, so we stopped to pick up Martha’s sister, Jilly. I looked around the car and was not exactly sure where we could put her, but somehow the door opened and next thing we new, she was in. Now I had a sleeping, drooling, and very dirty “Superman” on half of my lap, while the other half of me was wedged under Diana. There was bad traffic and it felt like a 6 hour ride, but when we got there, I couldn’t even remember why I had complained. This pueblo is like what you see in a movie. Typical flat, two story Mexican houses with animals grazing outside, mango, plum, fig, orange, and lime trees growing out over the yard, giving perfect shade to sit and talk for hours…which is pretty much what we did…for two days. : )The kitchen for the house was a separate building outside, where they made us delicious food over a fire pit stove. We climbed trees, ate fresh mangos, walked into the village for tacos, toured a beautiful old Spanish church, and rode into the campo in the back of a truck for a festival. Again, in true Mexican style, the festival was supposed to begin at 9am. We arrived promptly at 12:30 and didn’t see hide or hair of any other festival goers until 2:00. When they did come, though, they came with all the enthusiasm of a Mexican celebration.

We had carne asada (long, thin strips of seasoned meat on a grill), homemade tortillas, and jalapeno sauce, accompanied by a full Mariachi style band who made a long, loud appearance for the occasion. The lead singer was a toothless old man with a decent voice, but a beer bottle always in his hand. After a few songs (and a few more beers), he got up the courage to come talk to me. My blue eyes have a hypnotic effect on Mexican men. He leaned across the table, droopy eyes beaming, and spraying spit with ever toothless grin. “What is your name?”, he asked in English. Here I must interject that “Mandie” sounds an awful lot like “mande”, the Spanish word for “huh?”. So when I responded “Mandie”, he politely leaned even closer and, raising his voice and speaking ever so slightly slower, “WHAT EES YOUR NAIME?”. “Mandie”, I said, louder and a little more annoyed than before. This is a common conversation to have with Mexicans. “WHAT IS YOUR…”, was all he got out before Marlene leaned over and said, quite frustrated and slowly, “Her name is Mandie. It sounds like Mande, but it’s Mand – IE.” He proceeded to talk to me for a good while, telling me how beautiful my eyes were, how good his English was, and finally dedicating a song to me. He talked through the whole song, though, so I don’t know what it was. The rest of the afternoon was spent absorbing good natured jokes from the family: ¨Please invite us to the wedding…, etc¨. I was so pleased that they joked with me. That = acceptance in a Mexican pueblo.Yesterday was spent walking, walking, and walking…learning my way around the city.

In the early afternoon, we went to the home of Marce. She lives in the kind of housing that reminded me of the drug bust scene in American Gangster, but without all the shooting. Though, last week they arrested the man upstairs for killing his mother and keeping her in a pod on the stove for almost a year. Anyway...Marce's house is the gathering place for a fun group of single girls in their late 20’s. Since Marlene worked with mostly college age and young professionals here, these girls were her close group of friends. Marce cannot leave tha house as she cares for her mom who had a stroke a few years ago. Since Marce can´t go out, the girls come to her.

Doña Pali can barely walk by herself, but is so full of joy and has an incredible gift for recognizing sadness in others and then reaching out to them. She only says one word, “paratopera”. She made it up herself and it means whatever she needs it to mean. We watched a movie together, the 8 or nine of us, in a room smaller that many bathrooms. It was beautiful to be there with those girls, with Marlene, with Doña Pali. At one point she looked over at me, a stranger in her house. I smiled and she reached for my hand, stroking it for several minutes. She looked deep into my eyes and whispered, “paratopera”. I knew what it meant.Wow. Talk about a long email. I may or may not write a long one like this again. I have had little time to journal on this trip, so this email has served to help me process much of what is happening, leaving room for me to let Jesus do more. He is redemming many past experiences through the experiences in the trip so far. For that I am grateful and ready for more and more and more.

Right now, the rest of the trip looks like:
-A conference tomorrow night on emotional violence
-A trip to Acapulco so Marlene can rest and I can surf (Google “ Acapulco clavadistas”, we’re going to see them, too)
-a possible trip to Mexico City with Yuri to visit history and art museums
-crepes tonight and a movie with the girls at Marce's

Much love to you all and thanks for reading the world’s longest email (there will soon be pictures on facebook),

Mandie