Just sitting here listening to Gillian Welch’s “Look At Miss Ohio” which I had the great fortune of seeing live at Riverfront in Nashville back in August. Accompanied by quite the cast of musicians including OCMS, that song was one of the finest performances I’ve seen in recent history. Just about the finest “welcome home” that a Nashville boy could have asked for.
The 199th anniversary of Mexico’s Independence. That’s what we’re celebrating today. The city is essentially shut down reminiscent of the weeks following the “outbreak” of the “swine flu”. Outside the window of the office right now is a long row of military humvees with their machine gunners at the ready out the sunroof. This long deep green convoy is a regular sight here in our fair city but today they are simply awaiting their turn to fall into the parade moving through el centro today.
The night before el Dia de Independencia celebrants in cities across the country gather in town squares for El Grito. Apparently this is a time for a city to launch fireworks, blow tons of confetti off of tall buildings, and play really loud music in support of the primary activity of people spraying thousands of cans of foam all over each other especially the 3 white people in the crowd. Seriously, thousands upon thousands of foam-spraying Mexicans. It was a sight to behold. When finally so covered in the stuff that I had no chance of coming out semi-dry/clean I was able to just give in and enjoy the whole thing. And in all fairness I should confess that one is apparently even more subject to these foam attacks if they are white and also female (emily, adri.. amen?).
It really was a great event. A cultural experience not soon to be forgotten. We eventually escaped the madness with some Reynosan friends to a bar a few blocks off the square called Dutch’s which has actually been run by the same Dutch family for over 60 years. Cool bars in this town are quite hard to come by so that was a treat.
The event has me thinking a lot about patriotism and pride and nationalism. Mexicans are extremely patriotic. They take great pride in their country despite the many problems that plague them. An ever-expanding drug trade, the violence that follows such a trade, extreme poverty, widespread corruption on all levels of government, all these things and more and at El Grito one would think green, white and red represent some utopia. Let me acknowledge here that I know I am new here and there is much I don’t understand and perhaps never will but it has brought up interesting questions of my own patriotism. It seems to me that we (Americans) love to see Mexicans love and take pride in their country but are discouraged from doing so with our own. Flying an American flag is apparently not what progressive, enlightened, socially conscious Americans do. And there are times I feel hesitant to myself.
Perhaps it’s that it’s ok for an underdog to wave his own flag but once he is no longer an underdog we expect humility and self-deprication. Maybe that’s a good principle. I’m officially not taking a position on this matter. Not yet, anyway. It’s way to big for my small brain. But it’s what I brought home with me from El Grito. That and some foam…
Double meaning here… I hope. I’m back in Mexico from a 3 week trip to Nashville – saddle #1. I’m back here at WordPress! – saddle #2. Saddle #1 is much sturdier and stabler. I’m glad to be back here in what I kept finding myself referring to has “home” while I was in Nashville. Things are relatively quiet here at the moment but they’ll be picking up soon. As for my blogging habits, well I certainly don’t need to explain those to the 3 of you still checking in (thanks Google Reader!)
Who knows? I’m not making any promises. Pretty sure I’ll never be a Kelley Kirker. In fact my laptop has all but crapped out on me so for now I only have internet access in our office or by imposing on my friends for the use of theirs. Nonetheless I’m gonna try and at least occasionally post some thoughts, pictures, witticisms, pontifications, etc.
My ever-encouraging friend whom we’ll call jpkath to protect his anonimity recently gave me his 3 words of advice about starting a blog. They are as follows: 1. Don’t start a blog. 2. Don’t start a blog. And 3. Don’t start a blog.
Maybe he’s right. Or maybe I’ll punch him for disrespecting our beloved Port of Entry.
So don’t hold your breath, friends…. You know what? Do. Do hold your breath. But just ever so slightly.
Peace and love.
I became an uncle again yesterday! Sweet little Cora weighed in at 7lbs 10oz and 20in. Mother and child are doing great. So far I have nothing more than a fuzzy camera phone picture of her but of course she is perfectly lovely. I’ll post some pics when I get them.
Welcome, little one!
It started as a joke. I’m hoping someone convinces me to shave it off before I become too fond of it.
It was only on the rare occasion but it did happen. It hasn’t in a long, long time. My apologies. I’m still alive. I’ve successfully evaded the drug cartels and the pig flu which is supposedly next to unavoidable here in my fair country. I’ve been working a lot. Sweating a lot. Occasionally reading Cormac McCarthy when I can find a minute. I want to be in touch with you all. Is anyone still there? I’ll understand if you’re not…
Here’s what I’m listening to these days. Muchas gracias to dan, dirt, barnes, and stu for hooking a poor missionary up with some good tunes..
Frightened Rabbit "The Midnight Organ Fight"
Kings Of Leon "Only By The Night"
Noah And The Whale "Noah And The Whale"
M. Ward "Hold Time"
Sun Kil Moon "April"
Hank Williams "His Best Recordings 1947-1949 Vol. 1"
Class yesterday tried its best to end me. I’m pretty sure there are days when my brain is only capable of working into speech my mother tongue. Perhaps it has to do with the lunar cycle or perhaps yesterday was like the.. autumnal equinox of the tropic of capricorn or whatever. But the evening was better. I ran into my friend Atil and his roommate Chris while I was out on a walk. We ducked into a little bar call La Pena and had some drinks and listened to some mediocre live music. I’m headed to dinner now and then might meet up with them again tonight. I’m realizing as I write this that this is not going to be the most fascinating post any blogger has ever conjured up… Oops.
Maybe this will help a little. Here are some pictures I took from Cerro de la Cruz (Hill of the Cross) this past Saturday. It’s on the north end of town, not too far a walk from my house. The view from there is, of course, better than photos can convey but these turned out ok. I finished Henri Nouwen’s “Gracias” late last week and picked up “Godric” by Frederick Buechner for a 3rd or 4th reading. I sat on a bench with this view before me and read for a couple hours. I’ve had worse Saturdays.
my shower
I love this. The first thing I thought when I walked in my new bathroom here in Antigua was, “Wow, that is SO MEXICO. I feel right at home here!” In defense of my dear family here I should say that I in no way am roughing it. My place is fantastic. But having installed several of these so called “widow-makers” in Reynosa, I just got a real kick out of seeing this.
In other news, I felt like today was my first breakthrough day in language class. Yesterday was perhaps my worst day so far as I felt like my attempts at Spanish grammar were like… a monkey… attempting um… Spanish grammar! But today, today things were coming together like a champ.
Tonight on my regular walk about the city, I ran into some folks I recognized from school in this hoppin little salsa club. I stopped in and had a beer with them and it was quite nice. They were from Turkey, Chicago, Turkey, and Kentucky respectively. The club was too loud to actually hear their names, well at least the Turkish ones. The drummer used to play with the Buena Vista Social Club, which is cool but he should pipe down a bit when introductions are happening in da club…
Goodnight, all.
I’ve been reading a really amazing book by Henri Nouwen called, “Gracias!”. It has been an extremely rewarding experience as I’m reading it in such a similar place to where he wrote it. Nouwen was a Dutch priest who was perhaps most well-known for his work with a group of people with mental and physical disabilities outside of Toronto, Canada at the “Daybreak” community. But when he penned this journal he was studying Spanish in Bolivia and ministering among the poor of Guatemala, Bolivia, and Peru. It is beautifully honest and reflective.
My life these days is drastically different than it was only a few months ago. There are so many new challenges, fears, and joys that have accompanied this new turn of events. It seems God has strange and creative ways of waking us up to areas of our hearts that lie happily dormant and unbothered. I am thankful to be experiencing some of those in my new life in Mexico and here in my brief stay in Guatemala. Nouwen’s words have been of great encouragement to me as I adjust to new cultures and new ways of seeing the world. And believe me, sometimes this ol’ boy from Tennessee needs all the encouragement he can find…
From “Gracias!” by Henri Nouwen
Tuesday, November 24
She mentioned Erich Fromm’s remark that our two main fears are of losing control and of becoming isolated. I keep experiencing these fears every time I make a move, major or minor, and I wonder if I am getting any better in dealing with them. I find myself with the same old struggles every time I am in a new and unfamiliar milieu. In particular, the experience of isolation keeps returning, not in a lessening but in an increasing degree. Becoming older makes the experience of isolation much more familiar – maybe simply because of sheer repetition – but not less painful.
So, maybe the question is not how to cope better, but how slowly to allow my unchanging character to become a way of humility and surrender to God. As I recognize my fears of being left alone and my desire for a sense of belonging, I may gradually give up my attempts to fill my loneliness and be ready to recognize with my heart that God is Immanuel, “God-with-us,” and that I belong to him before anything or anyone else.
And so a new vision of maturity may emerge; not a vision in which I am more and more able to deal with my own pains, but in which I am more willing to let my Lord deal with them. After all, maturation in a spiritual sense is a growing willingness to stretch out my arms, to have a belt put round me and to be led where I would rather not go.
