Life goal #735: sleep beside a crackling fire. check.

Over the weekend of October 21-24, I participated in MCC Mexico´s tri-yearly country retreat.  I had been highly looking forward to this weekend for several reasons: (1) reconnecting with the six members of the MCC Mexico team not living in San Cristóbal, (2) learning more about the work of MCC Mexico (3) briefly escaping from life as usual here in Chiapas. It´s been an intense two months and though I feel quite content, I was excited to escape from my current reality by playing the Mennonite Game, eating desserts (which is not common here…much to my chagrin), and being surrounded be people who know that Mennonites are more diverse than the German immigrants who settled in Chihuahua, Mexico and dedicate themselves to the production of dairy products and wear conservative clothing.

Our weekend retreat (which took place here in San Cristóbal) was graced with the coldest weather yet this year.  I was quite unprepared. I must have misread the weather forecast terribly: I only packed a thin sweatshirt to keep me warm and temperatures dropped as low as 2° C during the weekend.  Adding to my teeth-chattering experience was the fact that we were staying in a beautiful home constructed several hundred years ago. It was jaw-droppingly picturesque. Stepping off the bustling street you passed a thick wooden door into a garden with plants growing wild in every direction. Nestled in this jungle-like garden were two houses. The big house was probably that of a wealthy land-owner and the size of the rooms, along with the height of the ceilings was quite impressive. Great for stepping-back in time…if only walls could talk! Not great for staying warm…if only Mexican houses had central heat! As the youngest team member (besides the children) and as the only single female, I didn´t get a room. My bed was in the living room! Why the exclamation point? Because we built a fire in the common room every evening to ward off the cold. I have always dreamed of sleeping beside a roaring fire and thanks to my journey with SALT, I checked that goal off of my bucket list. I thanked my lucky starts every nights as I dived into bed and watched the steam from my breath spill into the frigid night air. 

After a full day of business meetings on Saturday, we escaped the cold weather for a day trip to Lagos de Colón: two spring-fed lakes situated mere kilometers from the Guatemalan border. After returning, I boasted to my family and friends that I had never seen such clear water in my entire life. I was then told that these lakes are some of the least impressive in all of Chiapas. What luck! As I peered down through the crystal clear water with my goggles, (googles is spelled the same in Spanish and I laugh like crazy any time I hear the different pronunciation) I thought the water was only 4 feet deep. However, when I dived down, it was too deep for me to touch the bottom.

During this trip, we also heard from Myra, a local woman who works with immigrants from Central America passing through Mexico on their way to the U.S. The southern border of Mexico is often the first place they get stopped.  Laws allow unregulated passage between Central American countries. However, Mexico is not a part of the agreement, so crossing this border becomes much more difficult. Myra works with women who succeed in crossing the border but then get lured into prostitution in a town quite near Lagos de Colón. Visiting the southern border of Mexico and hearing some of these women´s stories through Myra added layers to my understanding of migration in North, Central and South America.  It is an exceedingly complex and difficult situation with no easy solution. However, as I learn more, my interest in working with Latin American immigrants in some capacity when I return to the States grows.

It was a good weekend, but by the end I was ready to get back to the life as usual that I was, at first, eager to escape. As I walked home, my excitement to see my host family mounted. No, I don´t get to sleep by a crackling fire any more, but as I stepped through the front door on Monday at about noon, I was overwhelmed by a sense of home. And that beats a roaring fire any day of the week.