Giving, Kindness & Acceptance

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Recently I was invited to join a group called South of the Border Bloggers (SOTB), a group of writers who have all had experiences like mine living in Mexico and other countries south of the US border.  I have never considered myself a blogger or a writer, but I like the idea of connecting with others who have their own crazy stories to tell and of sharing ideas and thoughts and maybe even support.   Each month the group picks one topic to write about and this month, in honor of American (and Canadian?) Thanksgiving they chose the title Giving, Kindness and Acceptance.

Although I don’t have American or Canadian cable TV, I do have Facebook and Twitter and Instagram.  I hear what is happening in the world.   I know that giving and kindness and acceptance are having a difficult time right now.  Definitions are shifting.  Opinions about who deserves acceptance and who needs to give it are being debated by politicians and churches.  Kindness is being lost in polls and demonstrations and hashtags.   They say that the solution to gun violence is not more kindness but more guns and the streams of broken people seeking shelter and safety are not brothers we should give to but invaders coming to take from us.  They…. We…. are building walls to separate us rather than bridges to connect us.   No, I’m not picking on any one political party – it’s just all of us.  We all do it.

IMG_20160704_174431_edit_editI know I do it.  One of the things I have struggled with here is looking into the bitter eyes of the children I work with, and not being filled with anger and judgement towards their parents and caregivers.  Oh, how I want to judge.  Drug addiction, prostitution, poverty, alcoholism, violence, abandonment.  So many mistakes that have landed on the shoulders and hearts of these children.  It’s not hard to justify my stinkin’ judgey attitude.

 

This month as I considered this topic and as I considered Thanksgiving, I was reminded that “but for the grace of God go I”.  I know how much I have to be thankful for.  In fact, every day in 2018 I have been writing in my Lovely List – 20181113_162547_resized.jpgI have over 950 items now.  The hummingbird in the garden today, the laughter with my husband, the help of a friend, the crazy antics of a puppy, a text from a daughter, a really good taco …. So many things to be thankful for.  Family and faith and home and my daily bread.  But I also recognize that I did nothing to deserve any of it.   Where I was born, who I was born to, the education I was given, the security I have always had and always taken for granted…. I did not earn any of it and do not deserve it.  Not more than the sweet boy who lives in a one room house in the slums made of tarps, or the 5-year-old who was given an STD by a relative or the young daughter raped by her father who she trusted.

So what does acceptance look like in this place?  I don’t think it means that we accept injustice.  We must keep fighting that.  But I am trying to accept that these parents are doing the very best they can.  I accept that they were also broken as children and don’t know how to give love or guidance because they’ve never seen it.  I’m trying to believe that it is in the acceptance of the broken, that we can finally get to the giving of the kindness.

So Happy Thanksgiving to my friends North of the Border!  Enjoy the turkey and the trimmings and the love of your family.  Don’t feel a bit guilty – you have been given a great gift.  But please, take a moment to give away some kindness, to offer love and acceptance to someone who might not seem to deserve it.    Put the debates on hold and the Facebook rants on silent and the judgements in the trash can – and just go #love someone!

“Freely you have received; freely give”  Matthew 10:8

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45139569_10215621288638874_8553295776481017856_nCheck out some other thoughts on this subject by the SOTB

 

 

A Major Purchase & More Bureaucracy

Finally! We made a major purchase, licensed and registered it with the State of Nayarit and it WORKED almost perfectly.
You’ll remember that in late July we drove our truck and trailer back to Canada to sell. It wasn’t pretty – the accident, the near arrest, the breakdowns, the late arrival. (Maybe our Worst Trip Yet!)  It was ugly, but it was done and since then we have been keeping our eyes open for a replacement truck. A couple of weeks ago we got serious about the search. Grant has a new business idea brewing (stay posted!) and he will need a truck to make it happen. We had expected to buy a vehicle in Guadalajara, but after a LOT of online research, we decided to check what was available locally. Big club cab trucks aren’t all that common here, so it didn’t take us long to check out every used lot in the Bay and to settle on two options. A sleek, shiny black truck and an older bright red one – both Dodge, both heavy enough to haul a lot, and both roomy enough to transport a crowd of little Mexican children. Both in good shape. The red one was considerably cheaper but also considerably older. We test drove them both, had our mechanic give them the once over and chose ….. (insert drum roll) … the black one!


20181101_123714_resizedThe main hurdle to purchasing anything major here in Mexico is figuring out how to pay for it. The dealer only wanted cash – no cheques, no bank wires, no drafts, no credit cards. Just a lot of cash. We started raiding ATMs and then realized since I would be in Canada for a few days for family business, I would be able to get most of the pesos we needed from our bank there. I called ahead to order the rather larger number of pesos and when I arrived, I was thrilled to be told they had just received a shipment of mostly $1000 and $500 bills. My stack of bills would be manageable. Oh, the irony of going all the way to Canada to find pesos to purchase a truck in Mexico.

The dealer had promised to repaint the truck hood which had peeled a bit under the grueling summer sun and on Thursday we went to pick it up and get the legalities of registration taken care of. We expected the worst. When dealing with bureaucracy we always expect the worst. We’re rarely disappointed. Remember our story of buying my little VW?  (Shopping for Wheels) Or registering the trailer? (One Full Year to Get Some Plates)  It never goes smoothly, and we didn’t expect it to this time either.

First, we had to get it inspected and the serial number verified – last time that cost me a ladder! But that went smoothly, and we were only there for about 1 ½ hours waiting in line. The next stop was the registration office in the town of Mezcales. It was around noon and they are open until 2:00 so we were confident we could get this done. We knew the next day all government offices would be closed to recognize Mexico’s beloved Day of the Dead – a day to remember and celebrate those loved ones that have passed on – but we still had 2 hours and we really wanted to get those plate before the weekend. But of course, no. They were already closed. “Why are you closed today?” “Well tomorrow is a holiday, so we closed today at 11.” “But the holiday is tomorrow.” “Yes, so we are closed today.”
Well okay. I guess Monday will work. Today we headed back to the office knowing there would be a big lineup after the two-day closure. We arrived at 8:30 and at 9:00 when the doors opened, we were at the front of an already long line. We had brought multiple copies of everything – we’ve been through this drill before – but after the shuffling, stapling, reshuffling, restapling we were sent across the street for more copies. 3 copies of this, 2 copies of the rest. Fine. More copies, more waiting in line, more shuffling, more stapling, many of the copies handed back to us as unnecessary (but you just told me to get them???) and finally, we were handed our new license plates. We also realized that we were supposed to have renewed our registration on Azulita the Volkswagone every year and we hadn’t done that since 2016, so we took care of that too. Oops.

20180915_091319_resizedSo, Grant is back on the road. We are again a two-vehicle family. Well three if you count our favorite, the little blue golf cart which really has become our main mode of transportation over the rubble and through the potholes. Our lifestyle is so very different here that I know we could get by with just 1 set of wheels, but I am not quite ready to let go of my own sense of independence and identity. My freedom. I really have absolutely nowhere to go that I can’t walk to or bounce to on the golf cart, but I’ve owned a car since I was 16. My powder blue convertible is just one more of those material things that I continue to cling to as some kind of weird crutch to prove that life is normal. That I am okay when so much is uncertain. That I can go….somewhere….  I know that’s not where my comfort lies, but hey I’m just being real here!  Besides, who doesn’t want to see a couple of old people and a fluffy white poodle heading to the beach with the roof down and the music blaring. It’s all part of the dream and we’re loving living it!

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Are We Happy?

Recently one of my friends emailed me to question whether we are really happy here.  Whether we are at peace.   Which made me realize that a LOT of my blog posts are about the crazy and difficult things that happen to us here.  Let’s face it – drama makes for better blog reading.

But as the 3-year anniversary of our move passed in September, I thought this would be a good time to consider the question.  Are we happy?  And if we are, why?  What are the things we love about living here.  Just thinking about the question made me smile.  YES!  We are happy.  I am happy.  It is a bit hard to put into words what makes something ‘right’ or ‘good’ but I can think of many tangible things that I love about our life here:

  • The weather. I can’t lie.  The weather had a lot to do with why we moved and that has not changed.  Yes, it is super hot right now, but I still love the perpetual summer and although autumn is no longer about pumpkins and gourds and red and yellow leaves, there are changes in the flowers that bloom and the foliage that grows.  The bouganvilias are back and the pretty purple vines are now everywhere.  Soon the nights will cool and our air conditioner remote control will be put away in the nightstand for a few months.
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    Fish Taco heaven!

    The food.  Who doesn’t love a good taco?  I am surrounded by Mexican food – taquerias and loncherias – not to mention donut trucks that show up at my door and a French Fry cart that recently appeared right across the street from my house.  I almost never tire of Mexican food, but when I do there is also a great Sushi place around the corner, the best burgers ever across the highway and a delicious pasta/pizza place a couple blocks away.  All of it for less than $10 a meal and most of it less than $5.   Unfortunately, that means I’ve gained some weight, so that brings me to the next thing….

 

  • The beach.  Any time I want to I can walk or run on miles and miles of soft sand beach or jump in the ocean which right now is as warm as a bathtub.  Gorgeous sunrises, beautiful sunsets, majestic lighting storms – it is easy to get my 10,000 steps in if I want to.  Those are the key words and I admit I have been slacking lately – time to get back on it before my Fitbit buddy Cheryl comes down to kick my butt as she has threatened.

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  • The people.  There is something infectious about the passion of the Mexican people.  Whatever they do is accompanied by loud music, loud laughter, loud children, loud dogs.  Even the barrios most touched by poverty have streets blocked off and pinatas hanging from trees when birthdays roll around.  Today we drove around town on our golf cart and we headed into the poorest communities in our town.  Groups of men sat on corners sipping from giant bottles of beer, but they all waved at us and yelled greetings as we went by.  I have no idea why I like that, but I do.  I love these people and I love being part of the rhythm of life here.
  • The meaningful work we do. The most important part of our life here is the work we do at Manos de Amor, the local Children’s Shelter.  We have seen the worst of the worst there – a 10-year-old repeatedly raped by her father, a 5-year-old with an STD, a young preteen whose mom recently went to jail for killing her husband, leaving the girl without mother or father or home.  Pregnancy, and drugs and prostitution and poverty.  I hate it all.  But we love these children and we believe that our presence in their lives matters – teaching them English, inviting them to stay in our home when they have nowhere to go, driving them to visit family on weekends, playing silly games and singing and dancing. Loving on them.  It all means something that has become more valuable to us than careers, salaries and possessions.

I guess the bottom line is that we have changed and what matters to us has changed.  We have less security but more peace.  Less comfort but more joy.  Less success but more compassion.  I could make a long list of the things that are harder here, but you can read the rest of my blog to get all those stories.  Tonight, we rest in the assurance that we are where we are meant to be, and we are indeed happy!

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So dear family and friends, please stop worrying and go book your winter vacation flight – we’ll be waiting for you curbside in the golf cart with a taco in hand.

 

 

Should I help? How? How much?

My husband Grant has written some great thoughts about how to help people when you live in a place that can overwhelm you with need – a place like Mexico, a place like our neighborhood.   I think he nailed it!  What do you think?

Sick of being asked for a handout every day? I wrestle constantly when I encounter people with needs looking for a handout—whether it is the guy with no legs on a hand peddle cart, or the woman with deformed legs being pushed in a wheel chair, or the woman and child begging on the bridge, or the guy yelling “hey mister how about today?” or “Can you loan me some money?” I constantly ask myself….”how much today? How much tomorrow? The change in my pocket?” “Do these people make more that the average person working at an average job in Mexico?”

Then there all the charities and the organizations—the ones for animals, for children, for seniors, for the handicapped, for orphans, for schools/kindergartens, for Christmas, for nature, for wildlife.….

And of course the special circumstances—”need money to go to my mother’s funeral, to have an operation, to buy a uniform for school, a dress for kindergarten graduation”, ……

When there are no social safety nets these questions will never go away. So I have narrowed it down to a few questions/thoughts for myself:

  • Will supporting this change a life profoundly? Or will the need always be there, never corrected? A medical operation that will allow someone to see, or to hear that now cannot—that is life changing. A surgery to rebuild the body so that it can work again is correcting a bad situation that will not repeat itself.
  • How responsible does this person need to be to correct this situation? Or are they a victim of things beyond their control? Giving to the wino or drug addict probably will assist them in not hitting bottom and being forced to change their life and get help. Giving to the orphanage that cares for abused and abandoned kids, who are in no way responsible for where they have found themselves may definitely help correct a bad situation. Giving to the kids forced by their parents to sell on the beach and streets so they do not have to work or because they want to buy alcohol – that is a mess—give the kids food and support an organization that gets kids off the street and into school.
  • If I help this person are they of a character to give back in the future to others or will what I give be wasted to no end, and will the need be perpetuated by lack of personal responsibility? Helping the mother that has repeatedly abandoned her kids leaving them hungry will not solve the problem. Reporting the problem to DIF (social services) may correct the problem. Supporting the relatives or organization that helps the kids also is very useful.
  • If I don’t give money, will this person find another way to meet the need? Don’t be the quick easy answer to someone else’s struggle. Maybe give them a small job so they don’t fall into begging…. or stealing….
  • Is there something here that will give me or others great personal satisfaction? Will seeing the child in the kindergarten dress (that looks like a wedding dress) give me happy memories and a feeling of satisfaction? Buy it. If not don’t.

So this is what I have decided:

  • Give the change in my pocket randomly to those who seem to be in a retracted long term need. ie. The guy with no legs, the crippled woman, etc.
  • Give what costs me little to the one that will probably squander it soon. ie. An old pair of beach shoes to the addict with no shoes. An old bed to the person who lost their’s from being kicked out of the last house for not paying rent…..
  • Save my larger amounts for those in legitimate emergencies or for those that will experience a profound life change. Profoundly changing a life gives me great satisfaction…that’s when its time to give.
  • Organizations that make profound change in the lives of those who do not deserve to be where they are get the long term support.

I would love to hear your thoughts as to how you deal with this yourself. Please comment and share….

Currently there is one life that I am working hard at helping change. He was born profoundly deaf to a young single mother and a system that has no means to help him. No fault of his own, and giving can make a profound difference. Without a cochlear implant this profoundly deaf child has no hope of a regular normal life. Put in an orphanage by his grandmother as he has become too hard to handle, and not even the resources to get to a school for the deaf. With an implant and a couple years of speech therapy this child becomes like any other with a hope for the future….and a much higher likelihood that he will then want to give back when he can. Please check his story—www.youcaring.com/gaelsgiftofhearing

My One Word for 2018

my-one-word-2This country has stolen my heart – and when a heart becomes connected to a person or a place or a cause it means there is the potential for that heart to be broken.  To be busted wide open.   When you love something, it has the power to hurt you too and Mexico has brought me much love along with some pain.   As I grow closer to the children of Manos de Amor, I see the suffering they carry.  Two new little boys who are so malnourished, their shoulder blades stick out like sharp knifes pushing against their t-shirts.  A sweet little 10-year-old girl who was so excited to meet the dad she hadn’t seen in years and instead found herself being repeatedly raped by him.  Three little girls whose mom promised to pick them up on Christmas Eve and then disappeared for 6 weeks.   Just. so. much. pain.

I thought carefully about my word for this year.  My guiding value.  The one thing I want to focus on, remember, search for, chase after.  At first, I thought compassion would be my word.  More love for the people I rub shoulders with.  But as a difficult December moved into January, I noticed something happening in me.  I was getting discouraged and a bit cynical and even a bit hopeless.  The stories were piling up and my heart was getting bruised.

That’s when I read a Scripture verse and found my word – well it’s actually a phrase – for this next chapter.

“Whatever is true, whatever is noble, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is admirable—if anything is excellent or praiseworthy—think about such things.”    Philippians 4:8 NIV

Whatever is lovely.  I get to choose to think about what is lovely.  Yes, there is pain and suffering and injustice here.   Too much.  I have chosen to spend each day grabbing it and fighting against it.   But I know that the way to keep my heart soft is to train my mind to think about what is true.  To look for what is noble.  To overcome the crap by embracing the lovely.

So I have started looking and counting and recording.  How many good and lovely gifts can I see around me? How many will there be in a year?  Here is just the start:

  1. The sunrise and palm trees framed in my bathroom window every morning
  2. A fountain garden oasis in the middle of an office complex
  3. A coconut that broke a headlight but didn’t smash a windshield
  4. Breakfast with a view of bobbing boats
  5. Immigration card ready just in time
  6. A tiny orphan falling asleep in my arms
  7. Buttery popcorn
  8. Hot coffee and a good book in bed
  9. A husband who gets up at 5:00 to sit with little girls
  10. A home with extra rooms for the broken children who need a family
  11. Long distance friends who still love us
  12. A few unexpected moments of sleep
  13. Bacon and eggs and perfectly ripe avocados for breakfast
  14. A tiny “I’m sorry” from a little one who strayed from love
  15. A glass of wine at the end of a full weekend
  16. The smell of bleach and ajax in an almost clean bathroom
  17. I’m so Happy” sung by children who have little reason to be
  18. Sound of a marching band going by at midnight
  19. A giant pot of tamales followed by little laughing dancers
  20. My tiny garden oasis – torches and candles and fountain and wine and a wooden saxophone
  21. A goat and a turkey and a tuba – fun afternoon ride around town

And at least 40 more so far.  Honestly, I’m finding it harder than I expected.  I forget to look. I forget to rejoice.  I forget to be thankful.  Complaining is way easier.  But that’s the whole point of the ‘word’ – to embrace a new thing and to grow. So for this year, I choose to focus on whatever is lovely.   What’s your word for 2018?

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Who Cares if it’s a Square?

Today is Friday -the final day of our Monday, Wednesday, Friday English class schedule.   On each of those days we teach 3 classes to the children of Manos de Amor Casa Hogar.   These children are living at Casa Hogar because their parents or caregivers need a helping hand.  A few have no parents.  Many have 1.  Lots of grandmas have stepped in.   They have all experienced great trauma in their young lives – abuse, prostitution, alcoholism. And poverty.  A lot of poverty.

So 3 days a week we arrive at the home with our bag full of worksheets and crafts and videos and songs and tablets.  We have divided the groups by age.  The 6-9 year olds have learned about colors and families and counting to 20 and greetings and this week we learned about Day and Night.  We are working on vocabulary but also trying to learn some sentences.    “I have 4 shoes”. “Touch something red with your nose”.  They love songs and sing them REALLY LOUD.  I expect the whole neighborhood now knows the days of the week.  They especially love the English learning apps we have on the tablets that we use once a week or so.

20170906_163354The oldest children – those 10 and over – use the Duolingo language learning app.  We don’t really have to teach them – we are there to help when they are stuck and to do group review from time to time.  We are also there to stop their little fingers from ‘accidentally’ going to the App store and ‘surprisingly’ downloading games.  “I don’t know how that happened Karen”.  Sure you don’t.  We do reward them with a few minutes of game time to keep them coming back.  I love using this app because each child moves at his or her pace and new students can join at any time.

20170922_145605The funnest class is the littles, the 4-6 year olds.  They are hilarious and are actually learning quite a few words.  They are the ones who speak to me in English every chance they get.  “Hello, my name is Azbeth, how are you I am fine and you?”  They just run it all together and are so proud.   This week they learned shapes and today we finished the week by making Shape Guy heads.  They practiced shapes and face parts and colors on one little craft and they were pretty excited with the final product once they had added some butterflies and dogs and family members.

 

We are having fun but I have to admit that some days I look around at the needs and problems in this country and I wonder what possible difference it will make if Jose knows the difference between a square and a rectangle.   Will knowing their colors keep 12-year-old girls from getting pregnant and will greeting gringos in English stop boys from becoming trapped by alcohol?  Today after our final class we drove children from 3 families to their homes for the weekend and as I am every Friday, I was saddened by what I saw.  How can we think our little classes can make a difference?

But as I held babies and hugged toddlers, and stepped in poopy diapers littered on the ground, I smiled.  Yes, if children here learn English they will have an opportunity to secure a better paying job in the tourism industry.  But these 4-year-olds aren’t out looking for jobs.  What they are looking for is acceptance, confidence, affection, hope, safety and security.  For LOVE.  I watched Jose show his sisters and his niece Lupita his Shape Guy and I realized that for a few minutes today he felt proud of himself.  For at least an hour he experienced confidence and creativity and joy.   I remembered the look on Jorge’s face when he told me he had finished 8 Duolingo lessons.  The cheer Mareli let out when she finished a whole section of today’s learning app.

Our English class is not going to change Pricila’s life.  But maybe it will bring a tiny bit of healing to her broken heart.  Her mom isn’t there for her – but on Monday and Wednesday and Friday I can be.

As we left each of these children at their homes today – I really hate doing that – I did what I do each week.  I opened their little hands, tapped my fingers to their palms and then touched their palms to their hearts, “Okay, here is Jesus.  Don’t forget he’s going to be here with you all weekend.  You’re going to be ok”.

I realized what our class has to offer these little ones. – it offers US.   Our hearts.  Our acceptance.  Our love.  And really, that’s all any of us have to offer.

Update – This week’s flyers

You thought I was exaggerating didn’t you?  Here are some pictures of the flyers delivered to our house in the last couple of days:

On the truck windshield:

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On the car windshield right in front of the door:

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Taped to the garage door – directly beside the front door:

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Taped directly above the mailbox:

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Stuck in the door right below the mailbox:

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Everywhere but IN the mailbox!  And since mail does not ever show up here in Mexico, I’m thinking I may have wasted my money!  On the up side, I am very aware that there is a 2 x 1 Pizza special this week.

What I’ve Learned …. So Far….

It was 2 years ago this month that we rented our house and began our move here to Bucerias.  Last September we moved our first big load of belongings here and really settled in.  It is our Mexico Anniversary month.  We have survived all 4 seasons, celebrated all of the annual holidays, and embraced the rhythm of this community.  I know many of you are probably wondering if our mid-life crisis has passed, if the honeymoon is over, if the ‘phase’ has ended.  If we are happy.  I dare to ask myself those same questions from time to time and today as I celebrate this anniversary I am confident in the answer.  We love it here.  Almost every single day I say to Grant “Can you believe this?  That we get to do this?”   It has not been easy but it has been good.

I have definitely learned a lot and I decided on this anniversary to share 10 pieces of important wisdom I have picked up:

  1. There really are not 4 seasons here – there is high season and low season; Gringo tourist season and Mexican tourist season; dry season and rainy season; fan season and air conditioner season; mango season and sadly not mango season; hot season and bloody hot season. Today I was teaching the children in my English class the months of the year and most of the little icons I had downloaded for my calendar were useless – no January and February snow, no April showers, no May flowers, no September orange leaves, no October turkey.  Just sunshine icons and rain cloud icons.
  2. Golf carts are not practical means of transportation in rainy season. Even little children will laugh at you when you try.
  3. Mexican bureaucrats like to shuffle papers and staple papers and stamp papers. That absolutely does not mean you will get what you are asking for.  It has been 12 months since we imported our trailer full of tools.  We still do not have license plates even though we have been shuffled and stapled and stamped.  Maybe next week?
  4. No matter how many little Mexican children I cram into my little VW, I can always fit in one more.  Always.20170728_132244
  5. No matter how big or obvious your mailbox is, the delivery guy will always stick his flyer in the cracks of the door, under the door, on the car, on the tree.  He will even tape the flyer ON the mailbox.  He will not put the flyer in the mailbox.
  6. Mexicans love to sing – I love walking around town and hearing men on job sites, men on street corners, men lounging in plastic lawn chairs, men climbing trees to pick coconuts – men singing old Mexican folk songs without caring who is listening. That just feels friendly to me – like life is one big karaoke party.
  7. mini.pngMarket analysis and profit margins and business plans are not a thing here in my neighborhood. There is literally a corner store, a mini super – on every single block.  All selling exactly the same things.   At the cheapest price you have ever seen.  You can buy one egg, one diaper, one cigarette, one bun.  No one is getting rich – but everyone can have his own business.   And this week when I went to buy a loaf of bread at my neighborhood mini super, the owners were in the middle of eating their family meal and offered me a tostado.   Customers, neighbors, friends.
  8. Mexicans really like to please people and hate to say no (well except for the bureaucrats!). A few months ago we noticed a Café that serves cake and coffee in the neighborhood so in the evening we decided to go for a walk and grab some dessert.  When we got to the café, we noticed a pizza delivery guy in the doorway and the owner paying for the pizza.
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    The cake lady.

    We pushed past and when the owner asked if we wanted something we said that we wanted cake and coffee.    Sure.  Okay.  Then she closed the door behind the pizza guy and locked it – the café wasn’t even open.  We looked around and realized her family was there gathered around a table to eat together.  She told us to sit wherever we wanted and then she went into the back – into her own home – and brought us some cheesecake and a jar of instant coffee.  We sat there, in a closed restaurant, with her family, and ate that cake and drank that coffee.   And it was delicious.   

  9. If the sign on the store says it is open from 10-4, it is not going to be open from 10-4. If the gas guy says he will be there in an hour, he will not be there in an hour.  If the street sign says STOP, no one is going to stop.  If the sign on the baby stroller says it costs $700 pesos, it does not cost $700 pesos.  If the internet says the store is at a particular address, the store is not at that address.  If they tell you the party starts at 5:00, the party actually will start at 7:00.  Get over it.
  10. Mexico is not an easy place to live. I always thought that at this stage of my life I would want easy.  Comfortable.  Safe.  But I have realized that life is best lived with a bit of uncertainty, a touch of adventure, a sense of being stretched and tested.  Yes, some days I get frustrated, I’ve had a meltdown or two, I’ve felt lonely and homesick for things that are familiar.  But on this anniversary, I celebrate this new life.  Even the crazy parts.  Maybe the honeymoon is over – but the good part of the marriage, the real love story, is ahead and I can’t wait!

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Old Folks for the Win!

As we continue to settle into our daily lives here in Mexico, there are many familiar habits that have changed.  Some of these changes are good – some still need some adjustment.  We have grudgingly accepted that we cannot live as if we are on a perpetual vacation.  This is our life and it is time to choose how we want to live it.   One of the good changes is that we no longer watch TV.  So far, we have decided not to buy a satellite dish, which means we have no English speaking TV.   We do have Netflix, and every now and then we watch a movie.  And we always figure out a way to watch our Riders play – either on our computer or at some local sports bar.  But we don’t have that endless TV background noise playing in our house anymore – that is a welcome change.   Another good change is that Grant and I really do spend all our time together.  I like that and I am crossing my fingers that he does to.

One of our biggest changes has been in the area of health and exercise.  Grant has always been super active with his construction business.  He didn’t need exercise because he was lifting and climbing and pounding every day.   I, on the other hand, have always been a paper pusher so I do need to exercise.  In the last couple of years I had gotten into a good rhythm using online and/or DVD exercise programs and the gym equipment we had purchased.  Even when we traveled I was able to exercise.  And I had started to cook and eat pretty healthy.  Then we settled here and I was flooded with perceived barriers.  My house is too hot.  It is too small.  The floors are all tile which is uncomfortable to exercise on.  I sold all my equipment before I left Canada. My daily schedule was completely different.  I just couldn’t get into a rhythm.

5 weeks ago, Grant said “That’s it – we need to start exercising.”  So we put on the spandex, filled up the water bottles, updated the playlists and drove 10 minutes to the community of Nuevo Vallarta, the only neighborhood with smooth roads and sidewalks.  Grant strapped on wheels, I tied on running shoes and we started the painful journey of getting in shape.  As a former hockey player, he wanted to skate.  Fast.  I couldn’t possibly keep up on skates, so I ran while he skated.  I have always hated running – A LOT – but it was the best solution so I decided to JUST DO IT.  I started by walking more than running.  The low point was the day when TWO different taxi drivers stopped to ask if I needed a ride.  Apparently, I did not look like an athlete in training.  But we kept going 3 days a week and last Saturday I actually felt a moment of victory when my fitness app told me I had run 42 minutes and walked 11.   I realized I was enjoying my time more – running part of my route on the beautiful morning beach.  Praying as I ran – feeling peace and hope and joy in the journey.  Breathing it all in.  I can’t say I like running yet – my knees and ankles still hurt.  I look at my watch a lot.  But we are doing it.  Grant had a good day Saturday too – he skated 16 km, hitting his goal.  Old folks for the WIN!

Jungles and street paths and beaches – even some coatis checking us out

Progress and pain go together!

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Happy Birthday Francisco

Let’s face it – change is uncomfortable.  Stretching yourself is uncomfortable.  Walking in a direction that you know is going to hurt…. It’s all uncomfortable.   But if you want to live your best life – you just have to do it!   This weekend we went to two birthday parties for our dear friend Francisco.  I ate tacos and tostadas and strudel and 2 pieces of cake.  Because celebrating is also part of a good life and sometimes that comes with amazing Mexican food.  Tomorrow we will get up and head back to the street where the taxi drivers wave at me now.  And the one thing I know for sure?  It’s definitely going to hurt…..

And I’m okay with that.

Be Bold – Daniela is my ‘WHY’….

2017 is almost ½ over – unbelievable!  I told you about my words for the year “Be Bold”.  I have thought of those words often and they have given me courage many times.   I tend to analyze decisions – a lot – and I have convinced myself on many occasions to stop thinking so much – just be bold and do it.  Recently I was reminded of the ‘why’ behind those words.

We met Daniela in 2011 – she was 5 or 6 then.  She was the friendliest, smiliest little girl and we connected right away.  Every time we returned she was waiting with open arms.  I remember the first time Team Restore came to work at the orphanage. Daniela followed us around with her little notebook writing down every English phrase she could find – t-shirt sayings, backpack logos, shoe brands.  She really wanted to learn English.   At some point – I forget just when – she told us she wanted to be called Dani.  I have noticed that these children often shorten their name or start using a middle name – I wonder if they are trying to establish some type of personal identity in the midst of an uncertain life.

Dec, 2011                                              Oct, 2012

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Reunited Dec, 2016

Eventually Daniela left Manos de Amor to move back with family – I think with her grandmother.   We didn’t see her for a couple of years and then this past Christmas she came to spend her vacation at the home.  We reconnected in a big way – as if no time had passed.  My biggest worry is always whether our presence in the lives of these children is good, knowing it may be temporary.  The days we spent together at Christmas assured me that love is good – period.

A couple of weeks ago a volunteer invited the children to a restaurant for pizza and Daniela (yup – she is back to being called Daniela now) was invited.  We were so excited to see her.  And I couldn’t believe the shirt she was wearing.  Be Bold.   Seriously.  She was wearing a shirt that said Be Bold.  As I looked at her it was as if she was my own personal billboard reminding me of the WHY to all this

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Yes I want to be bold because life is short and I want to have adventures and experiences.  I want to live life fully.  I don’t want to hold back out of fear or insecurity.  But Daniella’s shirt screamed at me that it is because of little people like her that we are here, that we are stretching ourselves so taut that some days I fear we will tear.    Not just for Daniella but for all of them.    They are my WHY.  Daniella – and her shirt – was my reminder.