St. Paul, Beaverton holds services for Mexican workers
Rev. McCollum contacted the Rev. Hernan Astudillo of San Lorenzo
Anglican Church in Toronto, who offered to go to Beaverton and hold a service in Spanish.
As it happened, the date they chose was Sept. 16, Mexican Independence
Day, and the churchservice turned into a large celebration with some 45 workers attending.
Our Mexico Adventure
After our summer of a new ministry with some seasonal workers from Mexico, my family and I decided to explore the language and culture of my new parishioners. Many will be back in 2010, and we felt that if we could better understand where they live, and their culture, our ministry would be better able to flourish.
Our plan was to go to Mexico and see as many different places and people as we could in a short amount of time. This meant no resorts. Small towns, archeological sights, and St. Mark’s, Anglican Church that was exclusively English, but now has started Spanish services.
We will go to the pyramids of Teotihuacan, the ancient village of Tlaxcala, drive to Mexico’s second largest city (Guadalajara), stay in a cabañas on the Pacific Ocean, and then room with one of the seasonal workers and his family as they celebrate the Tres Reyes festival (Epiphany). All of this in 11 days.
We look at it as an adventure. An opportunity to immerse ourselves in a different culture, and get to know some of my parishioners in their own homes, villages, and country. Please come back often, as I will be posting blogs and pictures whenever I have the time, and internet connection.
We leave home at around 5am. We make it to the airport with plenty of time to spare, as our plane leaves at 9am. With the heightened security measures, some peoplr felt that it would take a long time to clear security, but we breezed through, no line up at all. We get on the plane, and the crew is as friendly as I expect the people in Mexico to be. I don't really like to fly, as it feels just like a noisy, long bus to me. But a good breakfast served, and two movies take my mind off of the noise.
Martha and Claire and Ted waiting in Toronto Airport
Blessings in adversity
Landing in Mexico City was a different story. Getting off of the plane, the Airport is beautiful. Recently built, the new terminal is architecturally gorgeous, and efficient, but the airline lost one of our bags. Kim and the girls went to register it so they could contact us when they found it, while I waited with the rest of our luggage for 40 minutes. All the while, I could see Antonio and his family on the other side of customs, andach time the door opened, they waved wildly to me, I back to them. To make matters worse, two planes came in during that time, and the line to clear customs was getting longer and longer.
Finally, we got out of the restricted area and met them. What a great welcome. Antonio had brought his son, Juan Antonio, brother-in-law Paco, and his cousin Tito. Paco is bilingual, so if we could not find the right Spanish word, he translated for us. We were 1.5 hours later than we told them, but they were very calm and excited to see us. Antonio was just as I remember him: big smile, calm and full of joy.
We made out way to the car rental place, only to find out that they only held our car for an hour after the time I booked the car. How was I supposed to know that the plane was late and they would lose our luggage? Paco was such a great help, keeping me calm and talking to three other rental places before we could get a car. He came with Martha, Claire and me to pick the car up, while Kim went with Antonio in his car to meet us at Thrifty and then on to Teotihuacán. Paco stayed in my car, just in case we got separated, and it was a good thing. The traffic and streets are very confusing in the capital.
After driving for about an hour, we made it to Teotihuacán. We had reservations at the Quinto Sol Hotel, and went to drop off our bags before going to meet the rest of Antonio’s family. But, as it turns out, our reservation there was lost too. Again, Paco helped by translating to the desk clerk for us.
After getting our room sorted, we made our way to Antonio’s house and met the rest of his family. His wife, two sons, and mother-in-law were all waiting for us. Tito’s wife arrived as well, along with their son Eduardo. Antonio’s house is small and simple. Nothing fancy, but comfortable and had a nice family vibe to it. It was not long before we were fed. A theme that would continue for the remainder of our stay in Teotihuacán. A lettuce salad, as well as avocado, crackers, tortillas, fresh veggies, and boiled cactus salad (it was great!) were on the menu. Luz Maria, Antonio's wife, just kept making food. We all sat down at the kitchen table and tried our Spanish, while Paco translated what they could not understand. It was just like visiting old friends.
It was not long before sunset, and we all got in our cars and went to Antonio’s mom’s house. It was down a long cobblestone road. Again, driving was an adventure, as many drivers in Mexico do not pay attention to even the most basic rules of the road.
When we arrived at Antonio’s mom’s house, we saw the Pyramid of the Moon, about 100 metres away. Again, going into the house was like meeting friends again. Antonio’s mom, sister, and her son were all there. After some small talk, we took a walk to Antonio’s other sister’s house, about 50 yards away through the tallest cacti I have ever seen. Again, we were fed. This time an assortment of fresh Mexican fruit. It tastes so much better fresh.
After a while, we were exhausted, we said our goodbye’s and thanked everyone for a great day. We told them that the Mexican government should hire them as the official welcoming crew of Mexico. We went back to our Hotel for a night of much needed rest, with the promise of visiting the Pyramid’s in the morning. As luck would have it, Paco used to be a tour guide when he was younger at the Pyramids and offered to take us there in the morning.
Even though the day had three disappointments that easily could have put a damper on our trip, the Casteñedas saved the day. They took us into their house, their lives, and their circle of friends. And having Paco there really saved us from certain frustration and angst. It truly was a load of blessing in the midst of adversity.
Day 2
What a great night’s sleep! Even the sofa bed’s bar across my back didn’t stop me from having a great sleep.
We went to breakfast in the restaurant, and had a great meal. Paco came at 9am, and we headed for the Pyramids. It was a short drive, down cobblestone. Bumpy, but well worth it, as we were about to discover.
We entered the historic site, and parked under a shade tree in the parking lot. As we entered the site, the magnitude and importance of the Pyramids was overwhelming. As we looked down the Avenue of the Dead, I could see why so many web sites love this place.
We first went to the temple of Quetzalcoatl, which is directly ahead as you come into the complex. It is in the middle of a square, dug about 10 feet below the surrounding land. There are twelve small structures around the square, one for each month of the year. All twelve are spaced exactly evenly around the four sides. The Temple is at the far end, and is precisely in the centre. Behind the Temple on each side are the remains of the living quarters of the priests and royalty, who lived on the site. Only they could go up the Temple, as common people were not allowed.
The history of the ruins is fascinating, and I would suggest that you look up the ruins on the internet, as they do a much better job of explaining them than I could ever do. But I can tell you some thing I found really fascinating: the people who built the site were not warriors, but were merchants, trading with the other civilizations around them; the site was also the largest city in the world for the time; the engineering that it took was truly amazing, as they did not use animals, iron tools, or even the wheel to help with construction; they also did not save what was old. Every 52 years, they would bury what they had and build everything anew. In fact, the site was not discovered until about 1900 because it was buried under soil. This actually preserved many of the structures on the site.
The site is the home of the third largest Pyramid in the world, the Pyramid of the Sun. It also has a second Pyramid, located at the far end (beginning or end) of the Avenue of the Dead. We had decided that we would climb the Pyramid of the Sun when we were still planning the trip. How could we not?
Before we climbed the Pyramid, Paco took us around all of the rest of the site leading to the Pyramids, including an archeological dig that was just opened. It contained some of the original stucco, still painted, from about 100AD. You could still see the colours and figures in the paint. One of the paintings was surprisingly similar to a Greek key pattern. Finally we reached the Pyramid of the Sun. It was an incredible site. I stood in front of it, looking at the size, volume, and the perfect symmetry that it possessed. Paco said it was 52 metres high, and 250 across. It sure looked bigger to me.
The Pyramid is designed with several plateaus which allow you to rest while getting ready for the next assent (I told Paco that since only Clergy could climb the Pyramid when it was designed and built, we probably needed the time between each section to rest). Each level was tiring, but as we climbed the last section, there was a great sense of relief and joy. And you can see by some of the photos you get a magnificent view of the entire area.
After resting on the top and taking in the views, it was time to climb back down and move on to the Pyramid of the Moon. Its upper sections were closed for restoration, so we were only able to get to the first plateau. There we had a fabulous view down the Avenue, as well as a sense of how brilliant the planners of the Avenue were, having created such perfect symmetry. Everything exactly in its place. Truly remarkable.
At this point, we decided to head back to the Hotel for lunch, as the site was starting to fill up with tourists from Mexico City and we had another engagement to attend; Tito and Claudia had asked me the night before to bless their new house, which was still under construction. It is a tradition in Mexico to have house a blessed when it is under construction. When Antonio heard about us coming down, he told them and they asked Paco to ask me if I would do the blessing. The whole family would be there and I was touched and honored that they asked me. How could I refuse?
But as we entered the parking lot, we discovered that our car was boxed tightly in, with cars parked on every side. We thought could be stuck for hours, but Paco noticed a policeman nearby, and with the help of several artisan/vendors, we pushed a mini-van about 12 feet backwards, still with its parking brake on! Every moment seemed to present an opportunity to do something I had never done before! (I would like to say that I was the strongest and pushed the car single-handedly, but there are witnesses who may dispute that story)
As we were heading back for lunch, Paco asked if I would be willing to bless a second house that afternoon as well. Antonio’s sister was renovating a house for when she and her family come back to visit from Veracruz. After lunch, we headed over and blessed Concha’s house. Then we headed over to Tito and Claudia’s house.
When we arrived, we went to Claudia’s mother’s house, where they will live until their house is built. Claudia and Tito presented us with a rain stick made by local native people as a gift for us. It was the first of many kind gestures we were to experience while with them. We headed off to the construction site, just about a minute down the street. The first floor walls were up, but there was no roof. We went from room to room, with their son Eduardo holding the holy water for me as I used a fresh flower to spray each room while blessing it. All the while, the entire family who gathered, about 20, followed behind. At the end of the blessing, Arturo, Tito's uncle, set off fireworks to celebrate the blessing. Here there are fireworks for just about any festivity! Another notable difference between Canadian and Mexican house blessings is that Mexican house blessings have godparents.
On the way back to the house, Claudia introduced me to her brother, Lopez, who owns a Tienda (small shop) in the village. He wanted his store blessed, and we met his wife and one month old son.
We headed back expecting to have cake and say our goodbyes, only to discover that Claudia had prepared a fantastic four course meal for us made up of all local produce and dishes. There were a couple of vegetables we had never encountered before, a savoury toasted black bean soup, two delicious traditional drinks, one made from rice and the other from fruit and cane syrup. Again, every ingredient was incredibly fresh. We all talked throughout the meal, and into the night. There was a special piñata that symbolized blessings for the new house. (We learned that the traditional piñatas here are not shapes of characters but a seven pointed star to represent seven sins. Breaking it open represents pushing away the sins and the result is a shower of blessings, represented by candy.) We all got a shot at dislodging the candy, but in the end, it was Martha who cracked it open. Claudia presented us with hats woven by her grandmother specifically for us. We then got the share in Tito and Claudia's anniversary cake and a cider-like drink called poncha. All the while, laughter and stories went around the table. What a joyous family!
Claudia’s brother and sister-in-law talked about their new-born son, Santiago. He is 7 months old and cute as can be. He will be baptized next year , but they wanted to know if I would bless him. After he was blessed, the whole family applauded with joy for the great day we all had.
Unfortunately, we had to leave. We expressed how overwhelmed and happy we felt about spending the last two days with this family. They shared everything with us, taught us so much, and showed us what it was like to part of a Mexican family. We were really touched by how they put their lives on hold just to make sure that we were welcomed here. At the end of the night, Elena, one of Antonio's sisters, relayed to us that we would always have a place to stay in Mexico whenever we wanted. The outpouring of love and fellowship was wonderful, and started our adventure with hope and joy.
I was now really starting to see how important family is to the men who visit us each year, and am now more determined to make their lives when they are with us as comfortable and enjoyable as possible.
They made sure that we got on our way alright, escorting us to the highway, so that we could not get lost on the way. I am looking forward to seeing Antonio in the new year, and catching up with my new Mexican family.
Tomorrow is Tlaxcala, and another chapter in our adventure!
Day 3
After our first two days were so much busier than we expected, we decided to stay in Tlaxcala for the day rather than follow our original plan to drive up onto the Malinche Volcano in the hopes of finding people we know from Beaverton who live in towns too small to find on a standard map, who were not expecting us and who had not given us any street addresses. Also, as a result of the airline still hving no idea when they might find Martha's bag, it was time that we just had to shop for a few necessities for her. We had arrived late the night before at the Tlaxcala Hotel, and just like the Teotihuacan hotel, this one did not remember having our reservation. (I think I see a trend developing) They did, however give us the same room we reserved.
Tlaxcala central square, looking at the gazebo
We had a great night’s sleep after checking into the Posada San Fransisco, a converted 16th century convent in the heart of town. Outside of the door is the beautiful town square (see pictures), and across the square is the government palace for the region. All around the square are museums, shops, an outdoor market, and many, many cafés. There waῳ also a giant Christmas Tree right in front of the government offices. We were surprised to see it decorated with Santa Clause and snowmen. (Do they even get snow here?)
The square is a green and peaceful spot in the centre of a small but bustling city. Even though it was the last day of December, there were still irises, hydrangeas and calla lilies in bloom. They were still selling ice cream in the square, because it was hot enough that people wanted to buy it and eat in the park.
Martha and Claire enjoying an ice cream in the squa
There was also a large gazebo in the middle of the square, with fountains on the paths heading out from the gazebo. Everything was festively lit up after dark and night or day you could tell this was a favourite leisure spot for families and young couples in love. Facing this square was the magnificent colonial period government palace. Inside, the walls of the foyer and main staircase are covered with vivid murals depicting the history of Tlaxcala from prehispanic times until the present.
Part of our goal this trip was to soak in the culture and traditions of each distinct area, and another was to practice our Spanish. Each area is unique in Mexico, having different ethnic groups and peoples who came together to form Mexico as we know it today. Tlaxcala was a region that actually sided with the Conquistadores when they came to the new world and took over Mexico. They received preferential treatment for their co-operation, and were ostracized by the people around them for a long time. In an act of gratitude from the Spanish, they were allowed to keep their native language, and there are still many people in the area for whom Spanish is their second language. They also have the distinction of being surrounded by volcanoes, one of which is active. It makes for a stunning view from the city toward the surrounding countryside.
We took some time to walk around the town, and try and see as many sights and talk to as many people as possible. I have noticed that the Mexican people, by and large, speak more slowly than most other Latin American people I have met. This is good!
Palacio de Gobierno (that had the great murals) with the giant Christmas tree out front
The streets in Tlaxcala are crowded, and so walking is the preferred mode of transportation in the city. The shops are small, and they are open to the sidewalk. It was the 31st of December, and so the shops and streets were full of people preparing for the New Year Celebration. Whenever there is an occasion in Mexico, people gather together and eat, visit, and set off fireworks. Even though we got an early start to the day, the stores were crowded all day. Wall to wall people were buying cakes, pop, fireworks, and food for the fiesta. Near the main market it was hard to move and get around. We notice that although the architectural styles here are very different from at home, clothing styles are virtually identical.
We managed to talk to many shop owners, and were understood most of the time. Kim did most of the talking, and all of the people we spoke with were patient and listened to us, and talked clearly for us in their responses. With each step, we were getting more confident in what we were saying and didn‘t shy away from talking. Kim tried to chat with every single waiter and shopkeeper we met.
We went to a small market by the city centre and looked at all of the local handiwork, including textiles, and jewelry. Silver is especially big in the area. Also pottery and clothes are popular items at the market. There is not much kitchy souvenir-type stuff here, as most of the visitors they get are Mexican. Just like the towns at Teotihuacan, this place gave us a great, authentic taste of the real Mexico.
Martha, Claire and I went to the local church, which was white on the front, but orange on the back. There were also two large fountains behind the church, which also backed onto another park. I notice that in each town, there is a lot of space that is devoted to green spaces and gathering places for people. I guess that because Mexicans spend a lot more time outside than we do (given the great climate and the fact they usually live in smaller houses than we do), they value a public place to gather more than we may in Canada.
We had dinner at one of the many small cafés off of the square. The food was great, and the atmosphere was typically Mexican: decorations, food and staff fit right in with the feel and vibe of Tlaxcala. After supper, we walked around a little, and then went back to the hotel for a rest. We intended to go into the square for a large countdown to midnight, but heard fireworks starting at around 7pm. When we went outside at about 10:30, the square was empty. We were later told that many people have their own fireworks at home. We could hear fireworks going off all evening long, certainly past midnight, and still heard a few more when we woke up around seven the next morning.
Day 4
After another great night’s sleep, we had breakfast in the Hotel dining room. It is in one of the interior courtyards, covered with a glass roof, surrounded by stone walls a foot thick and more than four hundred years old. It is lightly chilly in the morning, but warms up during the day. The menu is extensive and inexpensive, and the food is delicious ῡnd the staff friendly. Everywhere we go there is a much higher staff to customer ratio than we are used to in Canada, and extremely attentive service is the result. And fortunately for us, given our Spanish-immersion goal, we have not encountered any service staff who speak English other than one man who knew a limited amount at the main hotel desk. After we ate, we asked our waiter how long he thought it would take us to get to Guadalajara. He went and talked to the other staff, and they agreed it would take us about 8 hours to 8 and a half hours. As we checked out of the Hotel, I asked the desk clerk, and he thought it would take us 12 hours! Yikes! We had expected 6 or 7 at most.
Claire in the Posada San Francisco dining room, a 16th century interior patio
There is unfortunately no way to get from Tlaxcala to Guadalajara without going back through Mexico City. We chose the route which skirts the southern portion of the city rather than the northern, as it looked geographically shorter. When we stopped half an hour outside of Mexico City for fuel, Kim asked the attendant how long he thought it would take us to get across the city, and he advised us emphatically to backtrack and take the northern route feeling certain it would be better for us. We considered his advice, but other people had suggested the southern route to us before, and backtracking didn't seem attractive, so we proceeded on our original route. We had been warned that the signage in Mexico is not good, and had experienced this as we drove to Tlaxcala.
As we approached the city, we expected to see at least a sign, or two, pointing us to the highway that would lead us to the western side of Mexico City. There was no sign. In fact, there were no signs on streets, exits, roads, anything other than to name the highway exits a couple of metres before they veered off , with no indication of where they would lead. Somehow the main highway we were on ended in the east end of the city. We must have turned ourselves around three or four times; Kim asked for directions at two more gas stations, and at the second one we discovered we were actually closer to Tlaxcala than where the highway had first dumped us off! It turned out that the attendants Kim spoke with at the final gas station had given us good directions and we were finally on the right track, but not without several times of wondering if we were off course again, as there were several forks, and each one had no sign until you had actually guessed and chosen one way or the other.
We arrived in the Metro area of Guadalajara at about 6:15pm, almost 8 hours after we left Tlaxcala. As we entered the city, down the Avenue De Revolunción, we were greeted by several men who had been hired by the city to welcome visitors. They stand at the border of the Historico Centro section of the city, and they direct visitors to their destination. It was so helpful for us, as our Hotel was located on a one way street. As we drove up to the hotel, we were greeted by a valet. After all of those hours on the road, I was so glad to see someone who would take my car the rest of the way. As we entered the lobby, I was worried that they would not have our reservation. Finally, a hotel that can take reservations and keep them for you (why do I feel like I'm in a Seinfeld episode?). We noticed that the hotel was right in the middle of the Historico Centro. After the long day of driving, we were all ready for a rest. Tomorrow, we will discover Guadalajara.
Day 5
As we wake up, we discover that it is raining. Guadalajara is known as the “City of Eternal Spring” because of its temperate weather. It never gets too hot in the summer, or too cold in the winter. Although it is raining, the temperature is around 21 C. The rain was light, and so we decided to venture out to see the city.
The Cathedral in the historic district of Guadalajara from the square to the south
We started off with (what else?) breakfast. There is a popular authentic Mexican restaurant called La Chata which is just one next block over from the Hotel. We enjoyed an authentic Mexican breakfast. We practice our Spanish on the wait staff, and they seem to understand us. But we do notice that there are some slight differences between some pronunciations here compared to the other two places we have visited. We linger a little, and after our meal we decide to walk down to the Cathedral Metropolitana and then on to the Plaza Tapatía, a long pedestrian plaza that goes all the way across the Historico Centro. At ornate wrought iron gazebo in the plaza across from the cathedral a young woman asks us in English if we would take her picture for her. We learn that she is a student here from China and realize that she is the first other foreigner we are aware of having encountered the whole time we™ve been here.
A look inside the Chapel of the Cathedral
We went into the chapel of the Cathedral, and noticed the beautiful stained glass of the 12 Disciples around the dome. They also had a creche in the sanctuary. Next door, in the main worship space, the mass was in progress, so we did not stay. The cathedral is large and beautiful, resplendent with marble, statues, and stained glass.
The monument to the founding sons of Jalisco
As we make our way down the Plaza, we notice that there are fountains and green space everywhere. Shops line the sides of the Plaza, but there are not many people there because of the weather. There is also a life-sized crèche in the Plaza. There are a lot of crèches around Mexico. Hotels, stores, and malls, private homes and governor™s palaces all have crèches displayed, usually more prominently than the Christmas tree. The Plaza leads to a large square, and to the south is Latin America™s largest indoor market, the Mercado Libertad. We go in, but do not spend much time there. We made our way outside and kept going into the small shops lining the streets.
A look at on of the many fountains in the Guadalajara Plaza
We find a small café right across the street from our Hotel, and have a leisurely late lunch before going back to the Hotel. The café is very hip, and serves what seems to be Mexican versions on café fare familiar to us. We try our Spanish on the unsuspecting waiter, and do alright, but he wants to talk to us in English. We obviously have much work to do before next spring, but I think we are getting better.
If you look closely, you can see pointsettias growing to frame this fountain
We get back and get ready for tomorrow when we visit St. Mark’s Anglican church in Guadalajara. It was an English-speaking parish church that has started doing Spanish services because of a growing Spanish-speaking church membership. Their priest, Fr. Manuel Sonora, is Mexican and bilingual. We will attend both services, and I will take part in the English one as the guest preacher.
There are Christmas trees everywhere in Mexico. This one dominates the Plaza at the West end.
Day 6
We wake up to perfect weather. The sun is starting to peek out from the clouds, and there is no rain. This is exactly what we heard Guadalajara was supposed to be like.
We go to breakfast early, as today is church, and we have a busy schedule ahead of us. As we cross the street for breakfast, we notice two things: most of the resident Guadalajarians are wearing winter jackets and coats; and the road outside of our hotel is closed to become a pedestrian and bicycle thoroughfare.
Although we think the weather is fine, locals see this time of year as cold, because. It is cool in the morning and evening, but hot in the afternoon. They must have to change clothes two or three times a day, depending on where they are going. We get more than a few stares as we enter the café in just long sleeves (me), or a summer dress (Kim). The café is open to the outside, so there is a cool breeze, but we really are not cold. I can tell you that Guadalajara is a world city, in that it feels just like being in a a European city with its culture, parks, cafés and museums.
We finish breakfast, and set out for the church. Although Guadalajara feels like a European city, their road signs, or lack of them, give them away. It is very confusing because most streets, even major ones, do not have signs. If they do, the sign is either too small to read while driving, after the intersection, or behind the largest tree branch they could find. It takes us twice as long as we thought (mostly due to my confusion), and we are almost late for church.
Fr. Ted, Fr. Manuel, and Roberto in St. Mark's
We finally make it to the church, and are greeted by the choir warming up, Father Manuel Sonora, the Rector, and Roberto, the Lay Assistant. They welcome me, and we go over the service. He informs me that because this is high vacation season for his parishioners, there will probably not be many in church today. The church is an old renovated warehouse, with arched windows cut out of the East side. It is all hard surfaces, which means that the choir sounds more like 30 than the 7 who are singing. Fr. Manuel welcomes my family and me, and we start the service. Fr. Manuel has asked me to preach, and I share some of our adventure so far. The congregation of mostly ex-pat Americans understands about our adventure, as many of them started their Mexico adventures the same way.
A look inside of St. Mark's
After the service, we meet in the church garden for coffee hour. So here I am, in an Anglican church, on the 3rd of January, drinking coffee while admiring the blooming Bird of Paradise flowers, and enjoying the bright sunshine. I could get used to this kind of church I the winter. The people are nice, and they are quite appreciative of our coming to their church. They all want to hear about our ministry in Beaverton, and talk about their own growing Spanish service. There are many similar stories and experiences we share.
Coffee Hour outside in January
As we are having coffee, parishioners are starting to show up to the Spanish service. I am surprised to see what I think is an American there, who I do not recognize from the English service. We talk, and he relays his experience of moving to Guadalajara 4 years ago after coming for a month to study Spanish. He does not live in any of the ex-pat communities in Guadalajara, as he and his partner wanted to experience the culture and life of Mexico. It is a great discussion, and he says that they go to the Spanish service, because they just like it more.
Fr. Ted and Fr. Mauneil talking church at coffee hour
I decide to sit with my family for the Spanish service, worshipping in the pews with my family for the first time n a long time. We enjoy the service, and I even understand most of the sermon and announcements! The people are friendly, and they applaud when Fr. Manuel talks about our reason for our visit here. Again, we drink coffee in the garden, and cannot help but notice that we are finding it hot, while others are wearing sweaters under coats. Many comment that they could not handle a Canadian winter. I believe them.
Coffee Hour outside in January
Fr. Manuel gives me some literature that he found helpful when explaining the Anglican church with his Spanish congregation, and we try to talk in Spanish to some of the parishioners. It was a great experience, and convinces me that we are on the right track with our ministry, and we need to keep immersing ourselves in the language and culture of our new parishioners.
We leave the church in the afternoon, and head back into Guadalajara Centro. We have to get ready for another long travel day, as we are headed for our second last destination: Barra de Navidad, on the Pacific Coast. It will be about a 4-5 hour drive which will take us through Jalisco State and Colima State, before hugging the coast and arriving on the beach in the afternoon. Guadalajara is a wonderful city, and it has shown us yet another wonderful part of Mexico: city life.
Day 7
We wake up early and get ready to leave the city. Although we think we have a way mapped out, city streets are turning out to the bane of our existence in Mexico. After a few wrong turns, and some late commuter traffic, we see the outskirts of town in our rearview mirror. I conclude that city driving is not for me, and we look forward to the toll highway to the coast.
Steam rising from the Colima volcano
As we exit the city, we can see the mountains and the still steaming volcanoes in the distance. Although Colima is still 150kms away, we can see the volcano of Colima clearly. We can see puffs of steam around it’s peak. and as the highway winds around it so we see it’s sister volcano as well.. The highway also goes over some high bridges, ranging from 90 to 180 metres above the valley below. This route provided some of the most spectacular scenery we have witnessed so far. Traffic is slow, so our plan to swim in the ocean today is not going to happen.
We notice a drastic change in landscape as drive through the mountains. Before the mountains, there are many of fields of agave, canteloupes, watermelon and papaya. After the mountains, coconuts and bananas abound. Rows and rows of tall coconuts trees line the highway, some farms with bananas growing underneath. We see a large department store and stop to find a couple of essentials for Martha; Aeromexico finally had someone in the office this morning, and they told me they still have no information on her bag. As we step out of the car, we are hit with hot humid air like a mid-July day at home. It must be 32C with the humidex in Colima.
We pass a large port in Manzanillo, as well as an airport. Manzanillo is a popular destination for tourists, but we have decided to stay down the coast, in Isla de Navidad, a small peninsula on the Ocean. No huge condo developments (although there are some in the works), but a peaceful cabaña on the beach. We turn off of the main highway, and find a small road leading to the Pacific side of the peninsula. We are staying at CocoCabañas, a small, family owned hotel. Their sign says NFL NHL games -- I know we have made the right decision!
A look at the CocoCabañas
As we pull up, it is just like their internet pictures, only more beautiful. Our cabaña is right on the beach, with an upstairs and downstairs. It is made of bamboo and adobe, with solar electricity. It is an eco hotel, and tries to maintain its small footprint. The upstairs have two beds, and the downstairs has the bathroom and 2nd bedroom. Martha and Claire will take the upstairs, and the view. After our time inland, we are looking forward to seeing what its like to be on Mexico's coast for a couple of days. The staff is all one family, and the ocean is about 50 yards away. We have noticed in Mexico, that most small businesses are run by a family working together. We have seen this in food stores, clothing stores, cafés, and now this little inn. It is very common for a young couple to work together and bring their baby or toddler to work with them, and often grandparents are around to help out too. Just as when we saw the closeness of extended family life when we visited Antonio's family, I am again reminded by all the young small business-owning families here how close-knit families are in this culture, and think how difficult it must be for the guys who come from Beaverton to be away from home. We settle into the restaurant for a late lunch and to rest from the driving. We meet the first real foreigners in our travel so far when a couple from Red Deer Alberta stop for a quick drink at the table next to us.
The owner tells us that the sunset can be seen from our cabaña, and he is right. We have an unobstructed view of a beautiful sunset. We walk on the beach and everyone but me gets their legs wet in the pounding surf. This is not a swimming beach because of the power of the water, and consequently, we have this idyllic spot almost completely to ourselves, though the innkeeper's dog likes us and tags along. This peaceful spot is a perfect place to reflect on our journey so far. We are going to return to the open-air restaurant for their Monday movie night, which will be a fun way to pass the evening, as the solar-powered eco-cabañas have rather dim lighting to conserve electricity.
Day 8
We have a great night’s sleep, as the breeze off of the Ocean is very soothing. The waves sound like thunder in the night, but we have to trouble falling and staying asleep. We all sleep in, until 9am, when we get up and on with our day.
The hotel includes breakfast with our stay, and we are the only guests this morning. We go to the restaurant and order. Coffee taste a little different here, it’s more like espresso than our coffee. Still good, and with a nice taste to it. Everything is cooked fresh, as the family who runs the hotel lives here as well. We also ask about the beach in Barra, as it is quite dangerous to swim off of the beach at the hotel. About 5 minutes down the road is the small town of Colimilla, which is separated from us by the luxury golf course on the peninsula.
We drive through the golf course, and notice that there is no one there but the maintenance crew. A shame, as it is immaculately looking. The road is cement bricks, so the ride is a little bumpy, but with so few people, I only have to avoid the odd coconut that has fallen in the road.
We reach Colimilla and find Lidia’s restaurant. She is a friend of Maria, our hotel owner, and lets us park and use her dock to get on the water taxi. It costs 20 pesos each (about $2) for the return trip into Barra. It is a short ride, but Kim chats the whole time in Spanish to the water taxi driver who tells her Spanish is very good for a Canadian! She feels encouraged, even if he is just being nice. We arrive in the heart of the village. We pass the luxury resort on the Isla, and realize that we assume we will see more foreigners than at any part of our trip so far (of course more than 1 will be more than before.) As we walk through the village, we realize that, as we had hoped, the village is completely Mexican and the nearby resort really must be an Isla unto itself.
We have an early afternoon snack in a small restaurant overlooking the water and the Brown Pelicans swooping over the lagoon. I have never liked guacamole, but it tastes different here. I speculate that fresh avocado might be the reason. In any case, this meal will tide us over until dinner; there are more important things to do, like swim.
We take another water taxi to the small sand bar in the middle of the lagoon, and sit at one of the many tables set up with beach umbrellas. We all wade into the water, and find it to be refreshing and warm. I am not a fan of swimming, so after a while, I go back and sit at the table, still marveling at the warm, verging on hot, weather. Martha and Claire stay in the water for a long time, and are really having a great time. There are four other Mexican families swimming at this beach. Apparently the ocean is exceptionally warm this year and they would not normally swim here in January.
We head back to our hotel, and enjoy the fact that we are the only ones there. It is very peaceful and quiet, as the waves are the only sound we hear. We are going to dinner at the hotel restaurant, and then getting ready for the last few nights in Mexico. We will be staying with Chencho, one of the workers who came to Canada in the summer, and his family, for two days. We will celebrate the Epiphany festival with them and take in some of the activities in the smallest community so far in our trip. It will truly be different than anything we have seen up until now. But then again, each step in this adventure has been different than the one before. And each step brings us into a clearer and more profound understanding of the people and culture of Mexico, and my Mexican congregation.
Day 9
We wake up, reluctantly, to get set for another travel day. We were the only hotel guests the night before, and Maria, the owner, opened up the restaurant just for us. Dinner was great, yet again, and she has become a wealth of information on the local community as well as the best way to get to our next destination: San José de Avila. We are going to travel on the free highway, through the mountains, and into the valleys of Jalisco. The road is winding, but it seems to skirt many small, and large, communities along the way, so we should be on the road for about 3 or 3.5 hours.
Chancho and Nancy Gomez, with Rev. Ted, Martha and Claire outside of the church of San Clemente
As we leave the hotel, it is cloudy, and it feels like it is going to rain. If we were in Canada, we would expect a shower at any time, but we are on the coast, and Maria assures us that this is just the way it feels this time of year. It is quite humid, and we head off to the highway. It stays humid until we go over the first mountain. The road is certainly winding back and forth a lot as we ascend up the mountain. To make matters more interesting, guardrails are missing in a couple of places on this mountain. We can look and see that it is a steep drop to the valley below.
Waiting outside of the church of San Pedro after the caminando.
As we ascend, we can feel that the humidity of the coast is gone, and it is quite pleasant and sunny. We can also see that there are fields of different crops than what was being grown on the coast. Now it is back to agave, corn, and cash crops, with very little fruit and no coconut trees. We go up and down three separate mountains before the land flattens out a bit and we can see again for miles. We reach our destination, by far the smallest of the villages in which we will stay. San José is a small town of no more than 50 houses. Its streets are cobblestone, and the town, like many others we have encountered, has a central square which holds most of the important gatherings. We are going to stay with one of the workers who comes up in the summer and his family. As we drive up to his house, we are greeted by Chencho, and his oldest son, Eric. We go on a tour of his house and backyard, which has lemon, lime, guava, mandarin, and papya trees. The lemons and limes are never out of season, and the mandarins have just finished. We then meet his wife, Nancy, and his youngest, Ivan in the garden. Nancy pulls off some lemon and limes to try. They are sweet and juicy. Not at all what they taste like in Canada. I still marvel at how different really fresh tropical fruit tastes.
The Three Kings bread, eaten on Epiphany
We head over to San Clemente to see the church there. It is about 100 years old, and is large for a small town. We go with several of Nancy and Chencho’s family members, as Chencho’s nephew and his fiancee are meeting the priest to discuss her upcoming wedding. We see the courtyard and the church itself. Its domed ceilings are pleasantly simple, as use the same brick that is on the outside of the church building. Chencho explains that here couples must post their wedding intentions publicly, including full family names, parents names addresses and passport-like photographs of each of them for nearly a month so that anyone who knows a reason they cannot marry, such as one of them is already married, can find out and put stop to it.
Jesús cuts the first Three Kings piece, and gets the first baby Jesus
We head back to Chencho and Nancy’s house to get settled in, and get ready to travel to another small town, San Pedro, for a parade to the church in celebration of Epiphany and the Virgin of Guadalupe. A band plays beside the road as people assemble. Each town in the parish marches in the parade, lead by a float with people costumed as Jesus, Mary and Joseph, and followed by women holding up fresh flowers and ribbons, while the rest of us follow along behind in procession to the church. We all then enter the church, followed by the band, whose brass instruments and drums reverberate loudly inside the brick and stone walls and arched ceiling. The mass is celebrated. During the sermon, Ivan, Chencho and Nancy six year old son feigns sleepiness and we all slip out the back door for his benefit. Once we are out in the square, Ivan is suddenly full of energy and ready to play! Chencho then tells us that that priest often preaches for an hour and a half, mostly about political issues such as abortion and gay marriage. He has speakers on the roof of the church which also broadcast his sermons thoughout the town square. We feel glad Ivan had his little scam figured out! Chencho buys us all churros (deep fried dough rings coated in cinnamon sugar) from the vendor outside the church door. They are delectable! After the service, the rest of the congregation celebrates with a fiesta in the town square, where they can get all kinds of food and snacks.
We then head back to Chencho’s in-laws for the eating of the Rosco de Reyes cake. This is a huge, round sweat bread, with dried fruit on top, and several plastic baby Jesus inside it. Whoever gets the piece with a baby Jesus has to make tamales on Feb 2nd, which is the fiesta of the Virgin of Candelaria. The fiesta is a time when all of the baby Jesus™ what are in nativity scenes are brought to the church to be blessed, to celebrate when Jesus was taken to the church and dedicated.
The children cut the cake first. Ivan cuts the first piece and also gets the first Jesus! Nancy, Ivan’s mother, admits that he will not make the tamales, she will. All of the children of the family have a turn, and after that, the adults get to cut the bread. As luck would have it, I get a baby Jesus in my piece. I guess I’ll have to come back to Mexico and make tamales!
As it was in Teothuacán and Antonio’s family, everyone is gathered to meet and share with us their customs and traditions. There is a lot of laughter and kidding about who will make the tamales, and everyone is very friendly towards us. Each person makes it clear that their house is our house. We just have to walk in and make ourselves at home. They insist we should just take whatever we need, from fruit off the table to bags of chips out of the store attached to Nancy's parent™s living room. We feel too like it would be too presumptious to do much of this, but everyone is extremely sincere in their offers, and we feel truly welcome.
After a few hours, we head back to Nancy and Chencho’s house for bed. Both Eric and Ivan have to get up to go to school tomorrow, and we are going with Chencho, Nancy and the boys to Unión de Tula to see the political and religious centre of this somewhat isolated region.
Day 10
We wake up after a good night’s sleep, and are told that Ivan and Eric might not go to school today, as it may be too cold. I look outside, and realize that it is about 6Cand set to warm up much more -- not exactly cold to us!. Everyone comments to Martha and Claire that if that was the threshold in Canada, there might never be school!
We go to Nancy’s parents for breakfast, and then walk to the local church, San José. The priest here has 6 churches that he visits each and every Sunday. The church was recently built, and is made of brick and cement block. The domed ceilings are simple, but beautiful, and the floors are all tile. There is a huge creche with a Mexican flavour, and mosaic tiles on the Corpus Cristi behind the Altar. An impressive building for such a small community. There is also the central square outside of the church where the town gathers for important dates and festivals. Here the church is the centre of town activities.
Chencho, Nancy, Eric, and Ivan Gomez, with Rev. Ted, Martha, and Claire in Unión de Tula
\We walk through town, which does not take long, and see the schools, as well as visit some homes of people we met the night before, and then down a dirt path to a quiet pond where people sometimes come to fish or bring their animals to drink. Ivan comes home from school, and we head out to Unión de Tula. It is about 20 minutes down the road. The town is fancier than San Jose, with a more grand town square, fancy planter boxes and light standards. The homes, however are still quite humble.
We see the Mother church for the region, which is very large. It has a chapel, huge sanctuary, and a mausoleum. It is also the place where seminarians train to be clergy for this Diocese. After a tour of the municipal building and the town, we head off to the restaurant, and enjoy another large Mexican feast. Kim is getting really good at speaking Spanish, and carries on a conversation with both Chencho and Nancy. I can understand what they are saying, but talking in Spanish is still coming slowly for me.
The Cathedral at Unión de Tula.
After lunch, we head out for Guadalajara, and the last leg of our journey. We are staying at a hotel near the airport and heading out tomorrow.
Day 11
I have had an opportunity to reflect on the adventure that we have just experienced, and it has no only met but exceeded my expectations.
We had planned the trip to really experience the culture, people and language of Mexico, and we have experienced all three. I have come away with a much better understanding of the way our summer congregation lives the rest of the year: their houses, towns, cities, and countryside. We have seen everything from a large city, to the smallest town, and met some wonderful people on the way.
You can read all of the books you want, watch all of the youtube videos, see all of the documentaries you want, but there is an emotional and visceral response to actually seeing the culture and people that you cannot get without being here. You can see all of the pictures on the pyramids in Teotihuacán, read all about the friendliness and welcoming nature of a people, but until you have actually been there, you can never actually know what it is like. Language is much the same. You can read all of the books you want, even hear some words on a computer program, but being in a conversation with someone for whom Spanish is their only language is entirely different.
As Paco said at lunch on our second day when Kim was saying she was shocked she had learned so much in just 24 hours, “It is all in the little details.” The subtle nuances and they everyday practicalities of life amount to so many differences. It is those details that we have seen. They have all built on what we already knew, and there have also been some revelations along the way.
I have gained a much better understanding of their family life and their religious traditions and practices, favourite foods and favourite festivities. It had been a wonderful experience. I feel like I can relate much better with my Mexican brothers when they come back to Beaverton in the spring. I also have new ideas that will make them even more comfortable in both our parish and our community. And with the news that they will be even more workers coming this year, it is even more imperative that we welcome them as they have welcomed us in this trip.
This has been a phenomenal and profound learning experience!
