On Saturday we welcomed a group of college and high school students from Horizon church in Cincinnati. I think. So many of them live elsewhere for college, don't do a whole lot with the church, etc., I wasn't exactly sure about what affiliation and geographic descriptors could be used broadly for them. More securely and accurately, they all attended high school together at Indian Hills. But also not entirely sure where that is... All I know is it's a richer area in Ohio.
Before the group arrived, we were sorta briefed on their situation. Turned out that only a portion of them even fully considered themselves to be followers of Christ. From a position of working with a Christian mission organization, specifically as the worship leader, this was perceived by me to be an interesting situation, potentially even a challenge. And a challenge it turned out to be. Not because it was hard to get along with them or because they stirred up all sorts of trouble or they acted inappropriately or anything, but because it became quickly apparent that they were all stuck on this trip with the explicit purpose of encountering God and being confronted with his gospel. So the challenge was in making sure each of them knew that straight up without seeming overpowering or excessively intrusive. For the first day or so, I took this protective, pulling-punches approach, not wanting to overwhelm them. But after the trip leader showed the bridge diagram, passionately promoting the gospel on the second night, I realized that this was no time to pull punches. This was a time to love as genuinely and fully as possible. No bible-thumping, no cramming it down their throat, no hyper-spiritualizing anything, just honesty, transparency, and truth.
The group were great workers. We had multiple days of concrete projects, making quick work of a staircase one day, conjuring a wall out of cement and wood on another. I was very impressed by the the heart of the girls on the day we poured the staircase, as they spent a solid, intense hour or two shoveling stones, sand, and cement into buckets and hauling them around the work site without a single word of complaint.
On the left, you can see the stairs we poured. This building is a church in a neighborhood called Tres Reyes. The pastor of the church, Victor, and his family current live behind a curtain on the main floor. The stairs are to allow a second floor to be built, which will house Victor and his family.
Thursday we threw a birthday party for three girls at Casa Hogar San Jose.
We played a game where we put bags on the birthday girls' heads, covered them with shaving cream, then threw Cheetos at them. Whichever team got the most to stick, won.
While working at one site, where we built the wall, we found a couple bee nests. So we burned them. Viva Mexico.
Several of the group members spoke excellent spanish and were able to interact with the children and workers on a conversational level. One of the members had all of the girls at San Jose wooing over him while he taught them the Macarena; one of the girls accidentally close-lined a kid while playing a game; another held an impromptu volleyball camp while we men lifted heavy things. One guy even faced the situation of being asked by a child if he could come back to the U.S. with him. I know they were all challenged, stretched, and grown over the course of the week. But as cool as their activities and work ethic were, what was even cooler was watching what they allowed God to do in their hearts throughout the week. Day one during the music time, they had maybe two or three people singing along with the worship songs. During the debrief time, people were slow to get going with sharing, unsure about speaking of personal and spiritual things. By the final night, I had a chorus joining me in song, hearts being opened to share what they were experiencing personally, emotionally, spiritually. Some decided they were ready to pursue a relationship with Christ, some reawakened their desire to dig into scripture, some comfortably expressed their sustained insecurity in what the gospel offers, but virtually each of them found they experienced something outside of themselves this week, whether they were able to articulate it as God or not. It was wonderful and an honor to be a part of the growth that they had while they were here. Seeing them off from the porch this morning was a very sad moment. I shared a hug with many of them and will miss having them around the house.
Personally this week, I've been noticing a couple things. The first was a disconnect I experienced while driving through the hotel zone. I realized that I don't think I could ever travel to a place like this purely for pleasure or vacation. It's almost like I've seen too much. I know too well the hurt that exists so heavily just a couple miles in from the shore, and even is present right there on the beach with the tourists. One of the Mexican staff members shared his story about being involved working in the hotel zone and the trap it was for him with alcohol, sex, and drugs. There was probably some rock and roll in there, too. It just blew my mind to drive past the signs of wealth and prosperity that are plastered around the hotels, protective screens to the need of broken people, purchased through an all-inclusive vacation package. Seeing people meandering down the sidewalk, fanny packs and wide-brimmed hats hanging from their inflated hips and cream-filled heads. I wish I could share what I've experienced in my life around the world and here in these past two weeks with them and let them see this world is meant for more than the pleasure they can glean with their chubby fingers. Sorry, Americans are fat. Not that I'm better or more enlightened than them, cuz I'm guilty of many of the same things they are, but just to encourage an eye that sees beyond the polish and whitewashed tombs.
For those of you who are still in the "Ooh, la la, Cancún" mindset, here's a more accurate view of the areas we're working in. This is the neighborhood of one of the widow mothers we work with.
I've also been encouraged by some of the thoughts of what I'll be able to contribute to services such as Back2Back when I'm done with school. Not that I can't help with what I have now, but my field will equip me with more skills to assist kids in and out of the school system with any variety of challenges they may face. Whether that means me improving my spanish skills and finding a position abroad or just engraining myself with the needs of children back in the states, don't matter much to me. I've just been reaffirmed as far as my heart and what breaks it.
And here's some Mexican sushi that I bought at Wal-Mart.
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