Dear friends,
I hope this email finds you well and relaxed after a good Christmas. I feel that a measure of the busyness of my last four weeks has been the lack of spare time in which to write to you. This is definitely a good thing because I'm in Mexico to serve and I've been able to help out with so much recently. Thank you to those of you who emailed me asking if I was still ok. This one'll be a little longer than normal because I'm covering all of December and rounding off the year. No weather report this time I'm afraid.
As I've hinted, the last weeks have been amazingly busy; I think I had about 25 hours sleep over the 5 nights before the 23rd Dec (when Armonía closed down for Christmas). Those of you who know me will recall that a lack of sleep does funny things to me; I start going a bit mad (well, more mad), mixing up words in my sentences and losing things. My Mexican list of mis-laid stuff now runs at: 1 Sigg drink bottle, 1 penknife (Widge, Ferg and Pike - no comments please), 1 USB-SD card reader and some other things that I can't recall at the moment! As Mum would say, 'the massive pile of stuff in the sky' (representing all the things I have lost in my life) may have some Christmas additions. I am reasonably confident that I will be able to locate some of them. "Vamos a ver", as we say here…
2 weeks ago, we all took a trip south to Oaxaca City (pronounced 'Wa-ha-ka'). I was quite excited by the prospect of reliving my 2004 Venezuela overnight bus experience (best travel I have ever had) when I saw that the overnight bus seats reclined to a comfortable 50 degrees. However, I hadn't reckoned for a combination of the atrocious Mexican roads with a coffee maker just behind my head. 7 hours of bounce, rattle, bounce, rattle, bounce, rattle meant I arrived somewhat sleepless. Nonetheless, what I found out about the Armonía project gave me renewed energy. At the risk of lengthening this letter, I want to tell you about what Armonía is doing there because I'm very excited about it.
Oaxaca state is one of the poorest and less that 5% of the remote villages surrounding Oaxaca City offer anything beyond primary school education. If students want to progress to secondary, they have to come to the city. The problem is, where do they stay? In answer, Armonía has built a students' residence (very similar in concept to Alheli) and then admits hard-working students. They support them, get them into the best schools in the city and give them broader life skills training (for instance, through Bible Studies and training in carpentry/manual labour tasks). The house is overseen by three 'older siblings' who have already progressed through school and devote a year to this project before entering the Armonía university scholarship program in Mexico City. The project in general is maintained by Dani Vargas, the Armonía lawyer whose story of a life changed by the gospel will have to wait for another email. The students' residence used to provide for 100 kids from many different indigenous tribes but due to political instability Armonía were driven out of their original location in February. The current one holds 12 but we are in the process of constructing a new dorm for 200 by June! It's a huge vision.
This provision affects the students in three ways. 1) Almost all of them decide to put their trust in God and live life as the Bible dictates, in the light of the cross of Christ. The state needs committed Christians living out their faith and these students will be leaders amongst their peers because: 2) The students are well fed, wisely disciplined and carefully looked after so they get much better grades. 3 of them recently took the top three places in their final school exams. This isn't a coincidence and so the scheme is very popular. 3) This opens up a vast range of opportunities including university. Joaquín, who I live with, graduated in electrical engineering 10 days ago with the Mexican equivalent of a Cambridge first, a $30m (USD) grant to patent and produce a new style of vending machine which he and 3 other students designed and, to top it all, we're pretty sure he is the first person from his tribe to get a degree. Ever. And he's only 20 years old! Perhaps this shows why I am so excited about this project - he came through the whole system. We visited, held a Christmas party for the students and local supporters and looked back over the year – a great time of fellowship with lots of amazing food (Pilar was in charge of the cooking).
I returned to Mexico City excited but shattered in time for the Armonía Christmas celebrations. There was one at each of the three community centres this year. Everyone from the community is invited to come. There is singing, praying, drama, a short Christmas address and much celebration. Impressively, everyone who comes is fed and each family is given the elements for a basic Christmas meal (cooked chicken, bread etc) so they can celebrate the birth of Christ however poor they are. At Santa Cruz, I was a modern-day wise man in the drama, delivering lines in my weird Spanish accent to the 200 people present, and a true caballero (gentleman) as I took part in traditional dances too. There is video evidence but I won't tell you where it's being kept. ;)
The preparations for our trips and the celebrations took up most of our time so there isn't much else to report. Last week I had my volunteer evaluation; it was challenging because it lead to the vocalisation of some cultural differences which have caused the odd hiccup ( e.g. expectations of performance, communication etc). Saul and I have been very honest with each other and I found it very useful to learn how to work more effectively for Armonía in Mexico. God timed the visit of Andrew Widgery and Jim Houghton well so that I could take spend time with them digesting my experiences as well as have hours of good old British banter. Poor Liz seemed somewhat bewildered by the whole experience.
And so my time with Armonía in 2007 is coming to an end. I have learnt so much, been excited by almost everything and been challenged beyond what I expected. Thank you to those of you who prayed for me and kept in touch – it means a lot to know there are supporters back home. My first newsletter had some specific prayer points on it so I'd like to end with some things to praise God for:
§ That we have a Saviour to celebrate at Christmas – God didn't have to come but He loved us so much that he entered the world in the person of Christ just over 2000 years ago. He has been faithful and trustworthy whilst I have been away. In Him I trust.
§ For the strong relationships with Armonía staff that I have developed, especially with the Cruzes, Dani, the ladies at the centre and the kids in the homework club.
§ That I have learnt so much Spanish and now even have enough confidence to speak in public as a representative of Armonía.
§ That He has kept me safe, healthy and active in His service
§ For the way we in Armonía have been able to apply the Christian gospel to people's lives and see the radical difference it makes.
Happy New Year to you all. Well done for getting this far.
God bless,
Chris Güero
P.S: I'm just gathering more information about Tabasco but I'll include an update in the new year. I know many of you are interested to hear more about the water filters.
Monday, 31 December 2007
Friday, 14 December 2007
Marrying in Mexico?
Being one of only two white people in the area has a number of implications... Amongst them is the universal assumption that Liz and I are either husband and wife, engaged to be married or boyfriend/girlfriend. The people that know us obviously haven't quite compared that against the fact that we had never met before coming to Mexico as volunteers!
The assumption in question seems to be entirely based on the fact that we're both white. And increasingly we're being asked when we're going to get married. Now I chuckle when I think that before I went many people suggested that I was going to come back with a Mexican girl. In the eyes of the Mexicans, that prediction is close but actually it'll be an 'Americana'.
It has now got to the stage where they don't feel like they have to ask us individually. We were walking to the centre and three of the girls who come to the homework club (aged 9-10) were standing in the road. I greeted them and was met by the question: ¿Cuando te vas a casar con Liz? (when are you going to marry Liz?). Not 'how are you?', not even 'hi'. They just jumped straight in with what they saw was the most important issue.
Now I ought to confirm that this isn't going to happen. I have no intention of returning with neither a Mexican nor an American in my suitcase. For one, how will I fit my things in there with them? Liz and I get on well but not too well (if you know what I mean). And I'm grateful to God that we work well together even our Mexican friends miss-interpret that.
The assumption in question seems to be entirely based on the fact that we're both white. And increasingly we're being asked when we're going to get married. Now I chuckle when I think that before I went many people suggested that I was going to come back with a Mexican girl. In the eyes of the Mexicans, that prediction is close but actually it'll be an 'Americana'.
It has now got to the stage where they don't feel like they have to ask us individually. We were walking to the centre and three of the girls who come to the homework club (aged 9-10) were standing in the road. I greeted them and was met by the question: ¿Cuando te vas a casar con Liz? (when are you going to marry Liz?). Not 'how are you?', not even 'hi'. They just jumped straight in with what they saw was the most important issue.
Now I ought to confirm that this isn't going to happen. I have no intention of returning with neither a Mexican nor an American in my suitcase. For one, how will I fit my things in there with them? Liz and I get on well but not too well (if you know what I mean). And I'm grateful to God that we work well together even our Mexican friends miss-interpret that.
Wednesday, 5 December 2007
Teaching little kids: you never know what might happen...
So. In my short life, lots of people have told me that I should be a teacher. And it's true, I do like teaching. But I've always known that it'd be secondary. I just can't cope with small children - they do my head in and you can't talk to them like a normal human. Plus, you never quite know what's going to happen.
Take this example: I was teaching English yesterday to the preschool class at Santa Cruz. Now, this isn't something I normally relish, although it's made easier if Liz is helping. But Liz is sunning herself on the beach so I was on my own with 18 of the little darlings. I'm not convinced that I could hold a class of 18 two to five year olds in English. I know that I can't do it in Spanish. Betsi came to help and we were playing a game to learn about fruits. "Cierran sus ojitos" (close your eyes) - "Hmmm - huelo un 'carrot'. Que es un 'carrot' en español?" (I smell a carrot, what is 'carrot' in Spanish?). The game continues: "huelo un 'orange', Que es un 'orange?".
And then something happened. hmmm - I smell... something else. We look up and one of the little girls had just pooed herself. Well, not herself so much as the floor. Just standing there she had, if you excuse the expression, curled a log out. And then proceeded to walk it around the classroom. Now, not to mention the apparent lack of underwear, this is not normal classroom behaviour. We just looked at each other and laughed at the impeccable timing of the whole situation. It was made more funny by the fact that the day had already been a manic disaster (and this was something extra that we didn't want) and because when I texted Liz she said she laughed so much she felt ill. I'm still smiling as I write this now.
I don't know quite what tickles me about the whole thing but here's the moral of the story. Don't teach little kids. You never quite know what might happen...
Take this example: I was teaching English yesterday to the preschool class at Santa Cruz. Now, this isn't something I normally relish, although it's made easier if Liz is helping. But Liz is sunning herself on the beach so I was on my own with 18 of the little darlings. I'm not convinced that I could hold a class of 18 two to five year olds in English. I know that I can't do it in Spanish. Betsi came to help and we were playing a game to learn about fruits. "Cierran sus ojitos" (close your eyes) - "Hmmm - huelo un 'carrot'. Que es un 'carrot' en español?" (I smell a carrot, what is 'carrot' in Spanish?). The game continues: "huelo un 'orange', Que es un 'orange?".
And then something happened. hmmm - I smell... something else. We look up and one of the little girls had just pooed herself. Well, not herself so much as the floor. Just standing there she had, if you excuse the expression, curled a log out. And then proceeded to walk it around the classroom. Now, not to mention the apparent lack of underwear, this is not normal classroom behaviour. We just looked at each other and laughed at the impeccable timing of the whole situation. It was made more funny by the fact that the day had already been a manic disaster (and this was something extra that we didn't want) and because when I texted Liz she said she laughed so much she felt ill. I'm still smiling as I write this now.
I don't know quite what tickles me about the whole thing but here's the moral of the story. Don't teach little kids. You never quite know what might happen...
Monday, 3 December 2007
Drug Trafficking?
In clarification to a reply to my recent newsletter, I would like to deny rumours that 'I was able to courier packages to and from Mexico' is a Rimmer euphemism for drug trafficking.
Sunday, 2 December 2007
Newsletter 6: Not much about Mexico because I've been in the UK!
Dear friends,
It's almost December and already Spanish Christmas music is playing in the local supermarket. It's strange to hear Jingle Bells and other similar tunes blaring out in a different language although it has to be said that the translation doesn't improve them one bit.
The obligatory weather report: it's warmer than when I left 3 weeks ago and wandering to lunch at Santa Cruz is considerably more comfortable than a long winter walk in the Cambridge fens (brrrrr). Still dry here and it's getting a bit dusty. However, as I write, ominous storm clouds are gathering which is a sure sign that I'll get wet on the way home. Of course I didn't bring a coat; I'm British, male and I don't rust.
Anyway... the last 2 weeks feel like they have been spent mainly in transit from somewhere to somewhere else whilst clearing my US visa situation (all good now). As annoying as it was to be forced to make this extra trip in addition to an already-booked trip in January, I feel like God made it a very useful time for Armonía and me. I was able to courier packages to and from Mexico. I took part in a whole load of meetings with the Armonía UK people, looking at what they're trying to do in our green and pleasant land. I was given time to promote what Armonía's doing around Mexico City and in Tabasco, and am returning with almost enough money to buy 4 new water purifiers and a whole stack of medicines for that same flooded region. I spent some great times catching up with friends (mostly in warm coffee shops) and hanging out at church in Norwich and Cambridge. I think the measure of my busyness was driving just under 800 miles in 9 days (much of it up and down my favourite A11)!
And so Tuesday I returned to Mexico pretty tired (which seems to have contributed to being taken down by some annoyingly potent foreign bug until friday). I have now decided that flying West is tedious (going east is just tiring) - 12 hours in a plane is enough to drive anyone mad, especially when you're sitting next to an over-enthusiastic person who wants to talk Spanish the whole way and beat you at Mexican card games you don't understand. On any other day, I would have appreciated the company but surely you've got to get to the point where you realise when to stay quiet. Unfortunately, Iberia aren't exactly world-renowned for their entertainment systems so I undertook to read a John Grisham novel and a series of Martin Lloyd Jones lectures entitled 'What is an evangelical' in a desperate effort to stay sane. No wonder I was ready to return my room in Alheli to subzero temperatures and go to sleep when I landed. Alas, we had to get through the Mexico rush hour traffic and being hit hard by the car behind certainly wasn't conducive to good sleep (we're all fine, don't worry Mum)!
Not much else has changed whilst I've been away. Pilar is getting better so she and Saul went to Oaxaca to have a recuperation holiday. Todd has spent the week getting ready to go home. Liz has spent the time bantering with the guys at Alheli, redoing her list of medicines and being stalked on numerous occasions. It's good to be back to my old habits of winding her up with my excellent sense of humour (so I like to think). The list of things we have to do has changed subtly and next week I'm going to become some sort of dental expert as I sort through the equipment in the Armonía dentistry at Santa Cruz. The thought of handling dental drill bits - argh! Around this, I'm doing things for Armonía UK, starting to plan the UK celebration with Saul (for the second time), preparing for the Christmas period here, trying to get the Cruzes into New Word Alive 2008 and looking at the prospects and initial details of a student visit out to Mexico (more on that another time). I can't wait to get started again, particularly now that I'm feeling better.
I was going to try to keep this short but I've failed again. Not to worry; I'm off for lunch and to give some good ole Colman's English mustard to the ladies at the centre. Maybe they'll understand the agony I suffer every time I eat their salsa; it has the potential to be amusing (and, of course, culturally informing).
Thank you so much for all your interest in what I've been up to, your support for me and the work of Armonía, and your prayers. I had a lovely time back in the UK and am looking forward to more Mexican madness. :)
Chris / Güero
It's almost December and already Spanish Christmas music is playing in the local supermarket. It's strange to hear Jingle Bells and other similar tunes blaring out in a different language although it has to be said that the translation doesn't improve them one bit.
The obligatory weather report: it's warmer than when I left 3 weeks ago and wandering to lunch at Santa Cruz is considerably more comfortable than a long winter walk in the Cambridge fens (brrrrr). Still dry here and it's getting a bit dusty. However, as I write, ominous storm clouds are gathering which is a sure sign that I'll get wet on the way home. Of course I didn't bring a coat; I'm British, male and I don't rust.
Anyway... the last 2 weeks feel like they have been spent mainly in transit from somewhere to somewhere else whilst clearing my US visa situation (all good now). As annoying as it was to be forced to make this extra trip in addition to an already-booked trip in January, I feel like God made it a very useful time for Armonía and me. I was able to courier packages to and from Mexico. I took part in a whole load of meetings with the Armonía UK people, looking at what they're trying to do in our green and pleasant land. I was given time to promote what Armonía's doing around Mexico City and in Tabasco, and am returning with almost enough money to buy 4 new water purifiers and a whole stack of medicines for that same flooded region. I spent some great times catching up with friends (mostly in warm coffee shops) and hanging out at church in Norwich and Cambridge. I think the measure of my busyness was driving just under 800 miles in 9 days (much of it up and down my favourite A11)!
And so Tuesday I returned to Mexico pretty tired (which seems to have contributed to being taken down by some annoyingly potent foreign bug until friday). I have now decided that flying West is tedious (going east is just tiring) - 12 hours in a plane is enough to drive anyone mad, especially when you're sitting next to an over-enthusiastic person who wants to talk Spanish the whole way and beat you at Mexican card games you don't understand. On any other day, I would have appreciated the company but surely you've got to get to the point where you realise when to stay quiet. Unfortunately, Iberia aren't exactly world-renowned for their entertainment systems so I undertook to read a John Grisham novel and a series of Martin Lloyd Jones lectures entitled 'What is an evangelical' in a desperate effort to stay sane. No wonder I was ready to return my room in Alheli to subzero temperatures and go to sleep when I landed. Alas, we had to get through the Mexico rush hour traffic and being hit hard by the car behind certainly wasn't conducive to good sleep (we're all fine, don't worry Mum)!
Not much else has changed whilst I've been away. Pilar is getting better so she and Saul went to Oaxaca to have a recuperation holiday. Todd has spent the week getting ready to go home. Liz has spent the time bantering with the guys at Alheli, redoing her list of medicines and being stalked on numerous occasions. It's good to be back to my old habits of winding her up with my excellent sense of humour (so I like to think). The list of things we have to do has changed subtly and next week I'm going to become some sort of dental expert as I sort through the equipment in the Armonía dentistry at Santa Cruz. The thought of handling dental drill bits - argh! Around this, I'm doing things for Armonía UK, starting to plan the UK celebration with Saul (for the second time), preparing for the Christmas period here, trying to get the Cruzes into New Word Alive 2008 and looking at the prospects and initial details of a student visit out to Mexico (more on that another time). I can't wait to get started again, particularly now that I'm feeling better.
I was going to try to keep this short but I've failed again. Not to worry; I'm off for lunch and to give some good ole Colman's English mustard to the ladies at the centre. Maybe they'll understand the agony I suffer every time I eat their salsa; it has the potential to be amusing (and, of course, culturally informing).
Thank you so much for all your interest in what I've been up to, your support for me and the work of Armonía, and your prayers. I had a lovely time back in the UK and am looking forward to more Mexican madness. :)
Chris / Güero
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