Tag Archives: Volunteering in Mexico

Some very exciting Thanksgiving News

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We have 2 pieces of VERY exciting news to share…

But let me back up a bit.  Today on this Canadian Thanksgiving, I am once again reflecting on all we have, remembering where we have been, dreaming about where we will go.  Last month marked the 5-year anniversary of our move here and it would be an understatement to say that my life looks absolutely nothing like I expected it to.   I have had a lot of 5-year bubbles in my life, but this one picked me up and took me to a place I had never known existed and had not bought a ticket for.    I have always promised to be real, and I know you are wondering if we’re still happy here or if that bubble has burst. 

It is hard to answer that without acknowledging that 2020 has been LOCO!  For everyone.  In the world.  And it has indeed been crazy for us too.

If you follow my social media accounts, you already know that we have been delivering food to those in need in our community for the past 7 months.   Our Golf Cart Rental customers scattered in March and within a week we were delivering bags of staples to those who were most affected by the tourism shutdown.  Beach vendors, restaurant workers, hotel employees, market vendors – no tourists meant no income and that meant no food.  Most had no reserves, no savings, no pantries, no stockpiles.  They were instantly in trouble and our empty golf carts were perfect to deliver supplies throughout our town.

In these 7 months we have changed.  Yes, our daily routine is different.  We have met new people. Learned about new colonias and barrios. Seen Mexico through different eyes.  But it is more than that.  It is us.  We have changed.

When we first moved here 5 years ago, it was our intention to build a beautiful house in a beautiful development with a beautiful view of a beautiful bay.  We always planned to help others – we were already connected to volunteering at a local orphanage.  But I think I saw our service at a bit of a distance from our actual life in the suburbs.   2020 drew us into the center of pain and poverty.  We became friends with women with bruised faces.  Homeless families living under tarps in fields.  Seniors with untreated broken bones.  Children with rotting, black teeth from their steady diet of coca-cola.   Animals with protruding ribs and open sores.  So much sadness and need and pain. 

My little friend was angry we didn’t stop!

But also, so much love and strength.  New relationships with strong moms carrying babies on their chests or backs – heading to the beach to try to sell a few trinkets.  Families banding together to care for one another.  Loud music and laughter and fiestas because birthdays are just really important here.  Everywhere we go now, people waving at us and offering us frozen fruit water and crafts and tortillas to thank us.  One mom told me last week that her 2-year-old daughter was very angry at us.  When I asked why she said her daughter had seen us drive by a few days prior and we hadn’t stopped to talk to her.  She had called after us but we didn’t hear and we didn’t stop.  She now looks forward to seeing us every week and I look forward to seeing her too.  That’s not just offering charity – that’s friendship.

A few months ago we made a decision that this work is part of who we are now and this week we signed some very important papers.  That’s our first piece of good news.  Grant and myself and our friend Francisco signed the final documents to register Refuge of Hope, Bucerias as a charity here in Mexico.   It wasn’t easy.  Legal things never are here in Mexico.  And then you throw in a pandemic and you can only imagine how slow it all was.  But it is now official, and we have some very cool plans for working in a community that I didn’t even know existed 5 years ago.   A community that I would have been frightened to drive through just a few months ago.

Which brings us to our second piece of Thanksgiving news.  A few months ago, we stumbled upon a big, abandoned building on the edge of the community we have been working in.  We immediately felt a pull to the building and after a bunch of miracles we found the owner, made her an offer and today she accepted.  We also were able to find the owner of an adjacent lot and make a deal with him.  So, on this Thanksgiving Day, it appears that we are about to be the owners of a true Refuge of Hope! 

We have lots of pictures and visions and thoughts that we will share with you in coming days.  We will need your support as we create a place for the children of the neighborhood to come for meals, after-school care, help with homework, skills training, psychological and spiritual guidance.   Maybe even a residential children’s shelter.  We are excited.  We are terrified.  Mostly we are grateful that in the midst of pain, we have seen and experienced great hope. 

You have been a refuge for the poor, a refuge for the needy in their distress, a shelter from the storm and a shade from the heat Isaiah 25:4

So Happy Canadian Thanksgiving friends and family. We miss you terribly but we know we are exactly where we are meant to be in this crazy 2020 and so are you! And don’t worry about us – we managed to find ourselves a traditional turkey dinner in a beautiful garden under the stars. We couldn’t be more grateful!

Rice and Beans, Beans and Rice

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Wow – our last post was 6 weeks ago and our lives look very different – and yet surprisingly unchanged.  In our last post I told you we had delivered 25 bags of food to people in our community who are now unemployed.    Today we will deliver our 1,000th bag!  And considering each family is at least 5 people, that’s over 5,000 people who have been fed using the donations that our friends, family and coworkers have sent our way.

I have lots of stories and each day I have updated my Facebook page with pictures and musings of the day – I just haven’t sat down to update my blog.  I promise I will.

20200511_130355When we started this feeding program, we spent time researching what should go in our bags of staples.  We googled and we spoke to other groups doing the same work.   We asked some of our local friends who themselves were struggling.  Our goal was to feed a family for a week.  After a few changes and substitutions – balancing cost with need – we came up with these ingredients:

  • Macaroni – 220 g
  • Rice – 900 g
  • Oats – 1 kg
  • Black beans – 900 g
  • Milk – 2 L
  • Tuna – 295 g
  • Chicken bullion cubes or powder
  • Corn flour
  • Oil
  • Tomato Sauce
  • Potatoes
  • Oranges
  • Cucumbers
  • Carrots
  • Chicken – ½ or whole.
  • Digestive Cookies

For those who don’t have refrigerators we give eggs instead of chicken.

We also include one lime cream dessert cooked by a single mom who we are trying to help get on her feet.  She wants to start a restaurant and we thought it would be good exposure to send one of her favorite products out into the community.  Helping Ana Luisa start her new business will certainly be a future project for us and a future post!

After a few weeks of delivering these bags,  after spending so many hours shopping and bagging these items, we began to wonder how people were managing.  Were these the right items to get you through a week?   5 days?  So we did what any good researcher does – we staged an experiment.   Could Grant and I live off the contents of one of our bags for one week?

We had a few rules to make it a bit easier:

  1. I could use any spices or condiments I already had in the house
  2. We could eat any food we found – ie fruit on trees
  3. We could eat food given to us – within reason. I did turn down one loaf of homemade bread that I really, really wanted but I knew was cheating
  4. Beverages were not part of the experiment – losing my coffee would not be good for anyone!

So how did we do?  I’d give us an 8 out of 10.  It was easier than I expected in many ways.  I learned how to make tortillas from scratch, to take dry beans and make a delicious pot of savory beans, to use the basic tortilla to make tostados and taquitos and empanadas.   Most of it was delicious.

What didn’t go well? 

  • Making food from scratch takes more time and creates more dirty dishes. The beans need to be soaked the night before, the tortilla dough need to be made and allowed to rest for a while.  The rice wasn’t instant – neither were the oats.  That was all difficult while trying to increase our food delivery work and being gone a number of hours each day.  My slow cooker was definitely my friend.
  • I really needed more vegetables. A salad please.  More fruit.  I admit I did grab some frozen berries from the freezer to add to the oatmeal today.
  • Canned tuna is weird here. It’s not chunky – it’s runny.  I’m not buying that again.
  • I really miss eggs in the morning. And bacon.  And toast.  And bacon.
  • You really have to watch packaged food down here for bugs. The day I opened the bag of macaroni to add to the soup, hundreds of little black bugs invaded my counter.  Some got boiled – the rest just ran everywhere.  As I was digging behind things on the counter to catch the bugs, I found a dead mouse in the Borax ant trap.  That was just a bad day with lots of screaming.

What did we eat?  Here is our menu and a few pics – honestly, that part went better than expected.    A lot of Rice and Beans, Beans and Rice.  But with different spices it wasn’t so bad.  This was our menu:

Menu

Did we cheat?

Surprisingly little!  I did put some peanut butter on the boring cookies.  A tiny bit of pineapple in the Chicken Fried Rice.  Some frozen berries in the oatmeal and empanada.   We bought a mini croissant from a street vendor because he really needed a sale.  One family we delivered food to insisted we accept their gifts of tamales and hot chocolate and jello.  And one total cheat Meatball Stroganoff with friends who invited us to their home – because in the end relationships are more important than experiments and we needed laughter more than beans.

What did we learn?

This bag of food was enough for 2 of us for this week, but most certainly is a stretch for a family.  Mexican families eat a lot more tortillas than we do, so I know that is a filler and we have lots of flour left.  We have rice and beans left, and could have eaten much smaller bowls of oats each morning.   The chicken went a long way and families could make bigger pots of soup than we did using the chicken stock.  I would like to add a few more veggies – more carrots, maybe some peppers.

Our biggest lessons were the emotions we experienced and the recognition of how blessed our lives have always been.  As self-employed entrepreneurs, we have had financial ups and downs.  There have been seasons in my life where I took the calculator to the grocery store to make sure I stayed within a super tight budget and days where I had to put things back when the total ran over.    I have clipped coupons and scoured sales flyers.  And yet on our very worst day, we had fridges and cupboards overflowing with fruits and vegetables and staples.   Our pantries have never truly been empty.  We have never gone hungry.  My children have never had to chase down strangers in a golf cart to beg for food.   And nothing I have done has caused me to deserve the privileged life I have lived.

This experiment, this whole last 6 weeks, has messed with our minds.  Last week (and probably tomorrow) when I ordered pizza, Grant reminded me how many food bags we could provide for that amount.  The disparity is uncomfortable, and we want to learn how to be grateful for what we have and to turn that gratefulness into generosity, not into some kind of unproductive guilt.

20200425_111814I won’t lie – I am glad this week is over.  I am ready to get back to eating what I want – a pizza, a big salad, some peanut butter on a slice of toast, a steak off the BBQ.  Did I mention bacon?  The people we are serving don’t have that option.  For many we will deliver their 2nd or 3rd or even 4th bag and they will eat it all again.  More rice, more beans, a couple of oranges divided up.  And they will also be grateful that strangers from Canada and the US and Mexico donated money so that their children could go to bed tonight with food in their bellies.  Thank you – your generosity has blown us away!  I don’t know how long this will last.  Every night before bed I look at the money left in the bank and tell Grant  “We have enough money for 200 more bags”.  5 more days.  And then it multiplies.   And we keep delivering.

To Donate to Food for Families:

https://www.gofundme.com/f/food-for-families-banderas-bay-relief?utm_source=customer&utm_medium=copy_link-tip&utm_campaign=p_cp+share-sheet

CONFESSION UPDATE:

After I finished writing this post, I made our last pot of rice, warmed up the last bit of refried beans and reheated a few tortillas.   Then we looked at each other and agreed …. we need meat.  We grabbed a piece of beef from the fridge, heated up the BBQ and made some proper tacos.   So 7.5 out of 10 it is…..20200518_185639

Normal – Not so Normal

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Last week we had a visitor from Canada – one of my very favorite people ever.  I always tell visitors that our doors are open, the rent is free BUT when they get home they must write a post about their experience with us.  Their story, their thoughts, their lessons.  That is the price of spending a week in OUR paradise.  So here are the thoughts of my dear friend Niki who blessed us immensely with her presence in our lives and in our home:

I had the amazing opportunity to spend a week in the home of some of the people I love and admire the most on this planet this past month.  Typically, when I travel to Mexico, it looks a lot different than it did this time, because this time I got to experience “normal” everyday life, living on a dirt road in a local community in Bucerias with the Swansons.  Although, I would not really call it normal in any way, shape, or form.

As I arrived in PV, we climbed into their cute little VW bug.  The first thing I noticed was their warm welcoming smiles and hugs, (man do I miss these people), second was the fact that I knew how to say “no Gracious” to each person at the airport who asked if I needed a cab – and in fact I think some of them could see I wasn’t completely vulnerable to that ask.  Third as we climbed into their cute little VW bug  I realized that my hair would not look like I combed it at all for the next 7 days. The wind blowing through it, flying in my face and the adventure had begun.

Within hours we were walking through the local market.  Quite different than the market most tourists probably experience.  2 Blond girls walking through the paths stood out like a bright light on a dark road.

I was in awe of how my friends knew their way through the winding dirt roads and how they have learned to navigate their way in this totally different world.

We had to find the produce stand, and after a while we did and got the vegetables we would need for the week.

We then headed out to an area of great need. What may be a  20 minute trip at home – took about 2 hours here.  It was where we would pick up a child who needed a ride back to the Orphanage for the week.  I had been here before, so my heart and head were more prepared this time.  But in so many ways, it still felt surreal, like a movie “is this the same world I live in?”  “How can this be?” I did however see some improvement from the last time I was there and that made me happy.  The moment we began to drive back to the Orphanage the little boy we picked up, immediately knew he was safe, and fell asleep with his head on Karen’s shoulder.  These people live love!  They are some of the very few safe people that these children know that are completely safe. To walk back into the Orphanage after 4 years and see the ones who have grown up, to miss the ones who are no longer there, and to recognize that even though this is better than the children being at home – this is still not the greatest place for these children to grow up. Again, my heart was changed.

The days consisted of driving and delivering golf carts to tourists in town enjoying Mexico.  Walking the streets, and seeing the most interesting sights. There were days when we would be driving back through the streets in a golf cart when I would hear “KAREN…KAREN…” and Karen would say “Grant Stop the cart..she would jump out and the children would run down the street and throw their arms around her.  You see this is who the Swansons are, they are love, they love the least of these, and again, I was the one who was blessed, inspired, and encouraged.

You see I actually went to see the Swanson’s to find some healing for my own heart.  And what I learned once again is that, it is more blessed to give than to receive.  And although I did receive when I was there, I also was able to give love along side of the Swansons, and this is where the healing happens.

One afternoon I spent some time with a local friend and when she dropped me off, nobody was home.  So I sat in the golf cart in the street and looked, and watched the dogs, the chickens, and the people.  I heard the sounds of the language I don’t understand, felt the warmth of the sun, for almost 2 hours, I just took part in what was going on all around me, and again, I was blessed, and more healing happened.

At the start of the week, Grant said – “Here are the keys to the golf cart – go ahead.”  I was terrified to do that on my own.  But as the days went on, I realized that I am braver than I think, and I began to venture out a little bit more each day, and again, I was blessed, and more healing happened.

All of this to say some people move to Mexico to retire, some people go to have fun, some people go for a vacation, and I believe that those things can all be very good. I got to have fun, eat at the street taco shops, cool local restaurants. I got to visit with some amazing friends I have made over the past years, see a local preschool operate.  I got to meet some pretty neat tourists, I got to eat a cheese burger on the beach and watch the sunset with amazing people, I got to see the magnificent beauty of whales jumping and experience the rugged beach of a community close by.  I also got to help the Swanson’s teach children English, hand out hugs to kids who don’t get enough of them, I got to bless a young momma with some clothes for her kids, and was humbled by how hard she was working to provide for her family, I got to hear the stories that tug on my friends hearts, and see the weight they carry as they just desire to help so many, and through it all I got blessed.

 

Joining with my friends in their NORMAL – NOT SO NORMAL lives was not the typical vacation to Mexico, but it has been one of my favorites by far.  To the friends who sent me on the plane, to the friends who let me serve and live beside them, I was the one who got blessed.

 

Love can look like a lot of things to a lot of people.  But what I saw with my own eyes was a life of love being poured out to so many who just need a chance.  And again – My life was changed.

 

Normal doesn’t have to look so normal after all!

Love Always Wins

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Now that tourist season is over, our little town is quieter and visitors to the Children’s Shelter where we work are fewer.  That has given me some time to think about the many families and volunteers who visit us over the winter and to ask the question that others have asked me “Is it good for strangers to visit children who come from hard places?”.  Honestly, there are many answers to this question and as a disclaimer, let me say that this post is going to contain my opinion based on my experience.  That’s it.  My personal gut feeling.  Which I think is okay because….. it’s my blog!   It’s my story.  If you have a different opinion – well that’s okay too.

Grant and I brought our daughters to visit Manos de Amor for the first time in December of 2011.  We knew we couldn’t keep vacationing in beachfront resort Mexico without also engaging in dust covered back street Mexico.  So, we googled, we went shopping and we showed up at the door that would change our lives forever.

015.jpgI will never forget that day.  We had absolutely no shared language, but we played games and colored pictures and ate soup and wiped snotty noses and honestly, we didn’t consider if our presence in their home could be hurting these little ones, we just wanted to love them.  Perhaps our motivation was more to assuage our gringo guilt, but our love was genuine, and our laughter was shared.

Top: Me and Brayan  Bottom:  Rubi, Carlos, Grant & Fernanda

Since that time, I have read books and online articles and watched videos that tell me that short-term missions projects or visits can be harmful to those we think we are helping and as a member of the Steering Committee of Manos de Amor we discuss how to best invite guests into the home in a way that is safe.  I have read strong arguments and stats on both side of the issue.   But as I reflect on my personal experience and observation, it always comes down to one simple phrase:  Love always wins.  Showing love is always good and caring for the poor is always right.  That doesn’t mean there shouldn’t be healthy boundaries, and if you come to visit us, we are going to give you a brochure with some guidelines we want you to follow.  Affection and attachment and giving of gifts can be confusing to children who come from backgrounds of abuse or neglect.  It would take more than this blog post to share all my views on HOW to do this well, but I want to assure you that you CAN make a difference with your once-a-year visit to our home.  I know because it happened to us!

That first day 8 years ago I met Brayan and Carlos and Fernando and Daniella and Rubi and Jackie.  This week, as in most weeks, I waved at Jackie on Facebook while looking at pictures of her little girl.  This morning I sat in church with Fernanda and Rubi and we shared gum and hugs and Rubi reminded me to bring her prize to English class tomorrow since she finished 5 lessons this week.  She was proud of herself.  Last week I ate Tacos Pastor with Brayan and Carlos and a small thing happened that day that prompted me to write this blog.

Brothers, Brayan and Carlos, 8 years later

The past few months whenever visitors have come and wanted pictures of the children, Carlos would hang back and when I prompted him to get in the picture he would say “No Karen.  No picture”.  He is a preteen and I respect that he is setting his own boundaries.  He doesn’t want to be in pictures with strangers.  I think that is fair and I told him that.  Even when I tried to take his picture he would say “No Karen.  No picture.”   Screenshot_20190602-161803_resized (002)But on Thursday, Carlos took my phone from me and asked for a selfie with me.  He applied some filters, opened my Facebook app and posted the picture with the caption, “Carlos.  Karen.  Friend” with a bunch of emojis of smiles and heart and thumbs up.  He looked happy in the picture. And it hit me really hard.  I have known Carlos for the better part of his life.  Longer than his dad was alive with him.  Far longer than his own mom knew him before she left.    What started as an afternoon visit from strangers turned into a selfie and a caption filled with love.  A friendship.

So, if you are wondering if it is a good thing to visit us next time you are in town …. YES.  It is.  Not to fix us but to serve us.  Not to give us stuff but to show us love.  To learn as much as you teach, receive as much as you give. To empower rather than enable, to respect rather than judge.  Your heart will be broken – that I guarantee.  But in the breaking, your love will grow deeper.  And if you’re lucky, you might just find yourself living on a dusty street in my neighborhood eating tacos and taking selfies with little Mexican kids.

It’s not that complicated.  Love always wins.

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

 

 

Are We Happy?

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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.

  • 20181020_144707_resized

    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.

 

 

Sisters in School

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It has been a very long time coming, but finally all 3 of our weekend daughters are in school and we couldn’t be happier.   Here in Mexico children must have birth certificates before they can enroll in school, and the two youngest in this family had never been registered, never been counted, never really existed as people with the right to be educated and employed.  After more than a year of knocking on the closed doors of doctors, lawyers and other bureaucrats, Britany and Pricila finally possess the papers they need to open locked classroom doors.

During the week these girls live at Manos de Amor, Casa Hogar and on weekends they hang out with us – at the pool or at the beach, eating chorizo quesadillas and tacos.  Little Pricila has a medical issue that keeps her from living at Casa Hogar right now, so she is temporarily living with us all week.  It’s been a long time since I took a little one to her first day of school, but I was pretty excited to do so this week.  So was she!  I definitely need some practice on how to create pretty braids and keep white uniform shirts clean,  and what the heck do I do with Spanish homework?  But I’ll learn.  More importantly, finally Pricila has her own opportunity to learn… to read and to write and to dream of a future where she can grow up to be whatever she wants to be.

 

 

Birthdays, Birthdays and Birthdays

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Last week was a week FULL of birthday fiestas – from Cristofer celebrating his very first birthday to Grant enjoying his 60th.    And Mareli who is now 11 but having her very first party with friends and gifts.

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A selfie of me smuggling a pinata on a golf cart – lots of laughing neighbors!

First was Grant’s birthday.  I bought a Minion piñata and a cake and smuggled it into the orphanage on Friday before classes.  The children spent the morning making cards and letters.  Lucio spent all morning using a YouTube tutorial to make a box that exploded confetti when Grant opened it.   We had a YWAM team visiting that day, so they joined in with the singing and dancing and piñata smashing.  The children absolutely loved the surprise and at this age, our celebrations are more for these little ones than for ourselves. That night we took our weekend girls and headed to a pretty restaurant on the canal for a birthday dinner of flaming fajitas.   It was a good day and I know Grant felt the love many times over!

The very next day was Mareli’s birthday.   Although her mom had recently moved to Bucerias, we hadn’t heard from her and we knew we needed to make sure Mareli felt loved and special on this day when her family hadn’t showed up.  Our good friends Francisco and Anita offered us their home and pool for the afternoon.  We bought another piñata – a unicorn this time – another cake, chicken and ceviche tostados and we invited some Manos de Amor friends to come and celebrate Mareli’s day.  She knew we were going swimming together, but the rest was a surprise.  I loved the look on her face when the doorbell rang and 5 of her friends walked in as well as her precious Tia Laura, a caregiver from the orphanage.  Again, face planting in the cake, piñata breaking, and lots of food and drink.  She was thrilled with the MP3 player we bought her to listen to her Soy Luna music.  A super fun day for kids and us adults too.

 

And then one more.  This week was the first birthday for 1-year old Cristofer.   Last year Cristofer was born to his young mom – the second child to the then 16-year-old.   If you remember from my blog story last year, 2 or 3 weeks after Cristofer was born, he still didn’t have a name.  His mom just couldn’t decide, so she asked for my help and I was honored to name this little guy Cristofer Alejandro.  I visit Cristofer every Friday and Sunday  – along with his brother Kevin, and cousin Lupita and lots of aunties and uncles and his grandma.  His 6 year old uncle comes with me to Manos de Amor each week.  It is a full house and although there is not a lot of material stuff in the one room home, there is definitely love and family.

 

Happy Birthday Cristofer and Mareli and Grant!  I never could have guessed that when Grant turned 60, this would be the life we would be living.  It’s a weird combo of missionary social work retirement and we are loving every minute of it!  So Feliz Cumpleanos mi esposo – te quiero!

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The Timeshare Dilemna

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So the big question….. drum roll…… what do you do with your Timeshare when you move to the place where you own the Timeshare?

12 years ago, we took our first big trip to Mexico with our daughters and like many tourists, we went home with the dreaded Timeshare purchase.  It had been a great week at beautiful Paradise Village – as soon as we had made the *gulp* expensive purchase on Day 1 of the vacation, they had moved us from the crappy cheap hotel at the Marina to the 2-bedroom beauty on the beach.  We fell in love.  Not only with the hotel but with the ocean and the bay surrounded by the mountains, with the people, with the food, with the whole Mexico thing.  But when we got home, well I just thought we were probably dumb. That we would never use this crazy impulsive purchase.  I was wrong.  Every year since then we have spent at least a week or two in this favorite spot.  As soon as we drive in the entrance, I feel the stress melt and the smell of the lobby just makes me happy.  We used the Exchange program to travel to many other places around the world, but every year we were drawn back to our favorite spot on the Bay.  We brought family, we brought friends, we even brought a few missions teams who appreciated the peaceful surrounding after a long day of painting orphanages and chopping down fields with machetes where churches would be built.

In fact, we loved that Bay so much that eventually we sold our home and our business, and we moved here for good.  We definitely don’t live in a 5-star resort – we live in a modest home on an unpaved street full of chickens and potholes.  But we are surrounded by those mountains and a 5-minute walk takes us back to the Bay. So what are we going to do with 7600 points at a Timeshare resort 10 minutes away?   At first our plan was to exchange those points for visits to new destinations.  But then it hit us….. STAYCATIONS!  We can skip the airports, the layovers, the lost luggage, the customs lineups…. we can throw a bathing suit and a toothbrush in a grocery bag and head to paradise.  For a long weekend or a whole week.   And that is just what we did last weekend.  This time, we shared the fun with our two little weekend girls who have never stayed in a hotel.  We had a blast.  I think they had as much fun on the elevator in the hotel and on the escalator at the mall as they did at the pool with the crocodile slide.

We ate ice cream and nachos, we spent hours in the pool and then swapped for hours on the beach, we collected shells full of tiny crabs and boiled little white clams, and in the evening we watched the dancing entertainment in our pjs.  I felt the same magic I had felt on the very first visit to our favorite spot, the same joy I always feel here.

 

On Sunday night, we left to pick up children and return them all to Manos de Amor and then we returned for one last night alone.  We ate a picnic and watched the sun set and reflected on how our lives have changed since our first visit 12 years ago.  We both agreed that if we hadn’t found this place, if we had stayed at the cheap crappy hotel, we probably wouldn’t have fallen in love with Banderas Bay, probably wouldn’t have found ourselves here, probably wouldn’t have little children hanging on our necks every afternoon and living in our home most weekends.  On this crazy journey, we’ve found that sometimes dumb is actually smart and expensive is actually a bargain.   (Ok I’m not talking Economics here – then expensive is just expensive!)  So we’re keeping the Timeshare – and the next time you can’t find us, well we might just be in Paradise!

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Miracles on the Road

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Everything that is good….. is also hard

After our disappointing trip with Gael to Guadalajara last month, we are back on track! But none of it has been easy and I realize that good stuff is sometimes just hard to pull off. You must believe deep down that it’s worth it or you might be tempted to cry or scream or quit.

You’ll remember that last month Gael absolutely refused to allow the audiologist to do the essential brain stem test at the hospital in Guadalajara. He wouldn’t put the headphones on, he wouldn’t let her look in his ears, he just wouldn’t cooperate. She told us he should have come sleepy or asleep, but no one had told us that. She did suggest we try to convince him to wear a hearing aid for a few months to get used to the idea of a device and miraculously he loves his blue hearing aid and wears it all the time.

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We were pleased when we found another audiologist who could do the test in Tepic. That’s 2 ½ hours from here, as opposed to the 5-hour drive to Guadalajara. It’s an ugly, windy, curvy, narrow single lane road through the mountains, but a couple hours shorter, so we set an appointment with Dr. Veronica and set off.

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Narrow curvy mountain roads

The appointment was at 5:00 in the afternoon – which meant we had to figure out how to be sure Gael was ready for sleep at exactly 4:45. On Wednesday night the orphanage director Veronica took Gael home and kept him busy playing and dancing until 12:30 am. She then woke him up at 4:00 and took him back to the orphanage at 6:00 to get ready for school. After lunch he had his mandated shower with no fragrances or gels and at 1:30 we hit the road for Tepic. He was tired…. really tired…. and we kept him busy with tablet games and sandwiches and bananas and juice and anything to keep him from falling asleep.

We also took a set of headphones like the ones the audiologist would use. In case he wasn’t asleep, we wanted to make sure he would be cooperative, and our German friend Manuela looked hilarious wearing the headphones that were connected to nothing. He liked them and was happy to put them on during the drive. Unfortunately, that led to our first challenge of the day. To wear those headphones, he had to take off his hearing aid and his mom, who wasn’t carrying a purse, wrapped the device in her shirt. And then we stopped at a Pemex gas station to use the bathroom and buy some drinks and an hour or so down the road when Gael decided to put his hearing aid on it was nowhere to be found. We searched every inch of our van, but the hearing aid was definitely not there. We knew the gas station was a possibility, but it was too late to turn back – and who could even remember which of the one million Pemex stations we had passed might the be one we had stopped at.

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Maybe?

After arriving in Tepic, we got on Google maps and Google Earth and narrowed down where we thought we had stopped. I remembered the nearby grocery store, we knew it was on the edge of a town (but was in Las Varas or Zapulcan?) and we remembered the general shape of the building. Once we felt confident where it was, how could we contact it? The internet only had a 1-800 number for Pemex in Mexico, no local numbers, and I am not kidding when I say there are millions of them. Every couple of miles. They’re everywhere. And then I remembered that our church has a sister church in Las Varas. I only knew that because our team from Canada had done some work there a few years ago. I messaged my friend Pastor Fredy and his wife Michele and begged them to contact the pastor in Las Varas and ask if someone would go on a hunt for us. Which of course they did and within a ½ hour they messaged – they had found the hearing aid. They had it. We could stop on the way home and pick it up. Disaster narrowly averted. That was Miracle #1.

By that time, it was about time for our appointment and just at the right moment, at exactly 4:45, Gael snuggled into his mom’s arms and fell asleep. Deeply asleep for the next 7 hours. Miracle #2. The test was done. The findings confirming once again that an implant will work for him – his brain function is good. The audiologist told us we are working with one of the best surgeons. We had the green light we needed to move on to the final step, the MRI which we can get done in Puerto Vallarta next week.

With the test complete, the hearing aid found and Gael asleep, we headed for home. It was already 7:30 in Bucerias and we weren’t thrilled about driving the curvy roads in the dark, so we decided not to stop for supper. We would stop at a gas station or taco stand along the way for a quick bite. We should be home by 10:30ish. Except we totally weren’t.

About a ½ hour into our drive it started to rain. Not good news for already dangerous single lane roads. At first it wasn’t a hard rain, so Grant calmly flipped on the windshield wipers – only to find that the wipers on the van we had borrowed from Manos de Amor were completely worn out. No rubber whatsoever on the wiper. Just a metal noise scraping on the very wet window. I panicked as the rain distorted our visibility. And then Miracle #3. The road widened with room for us to pull over. We were not in or near a town, basically in the middle of nowhere, but there was a tiny shop right there. Right there. And it sold car oil, and belts and windshield wipers. Within 5 minutes we were back on the road. And then we weren’t. We were standing still. For the next 3 ½ hours we stood totally still. And watched as 9 ambulances and a fire truck passed us. We knew it was bad.

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Waiting …. hoping the rains would stay away…..

We were starving by then and when Manuela saw a light far in the distance she decided to walk down the highway to investigate. Sure enough, it was a Pemex (I told you … they’re everywhere!) and she returned with sandwiches for all. And a cockroach. Whatever.

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Eventually we were able to move ahead slowly, and we saw the devastating accident that had stopped us. Today we heard the details. A semi’s trailer had shifted as he rounded a curve and the truck tipped on to a passing Tour Bus which flipped on its side. 32 people were badly injured. It was sobering and scary and sad and the rest of our ride was quiet. Today I read that shortly after we had finally passed through, a crane that had come to help move the overturned vehicles had lost its brakes on the hilly road and tipped over on its way back to Las Varas – the same place we were heading – and the highway was closed for 4 more hours. Perhaps Miracle #4 is that we had moved through in the small window of time before this next disaster and we had not been nearby when it happened.

We arrived home at 3:00 am instead of 10:30 pm. A one-hour test had turned into a 14-hour adventure. But the lost hearing aid was found, the windshield wipers were intact, we were safe, and Gael was cleared to move ahead with Miracle #5 – receiving his gift of hearing.

I like to think I’m stubborn. That I can persevere. But I am so grateful that I don’t know the details of each step of my life before I walk them. That I don’t know the frustrations and the mistakes and the pain that will be there. That I just trust that it is worth it. That life is worth it. That loving others is worth it. And that on the tough days, there will always be Miracles.

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UPDATE: Today we drove the hour back to Las Varas to meet the kind people from La Fuente church who had found Gael’s hearing aid. Turns out the aid was found in the parking lot but wasn’t run over or damaged at all. That’s Miracle #6!