Wednesday, June 14, 2023

The Cry of the Earth, the Cry of the Poor

 


It is almost impossible here in the mountains of Mexico in mid-June of 2023 to not think of Pope Francis’ challenge in his encyclical letter “Laudato Si´” “to hear both the cry of the earth and the cry of the poor” (49). Two months ago, in mid-April, I took the above photo in a ceremony on the top of a mountain praying to God for a good rainy season. Now, today, in mid-June, the temperature is 38 degrees Celsius, and the soil is still parched and dry. The rainy season has not yet arrived. The indigenous peasant farmers have not been able to begin planting their basic crops of beans and corn. It’s the kind of situation that the prophet Jeremiah might refer to as the groaning of creation and the groaning of the poor.

And Mission Mexico continues to respond as Jesus would to these cries. Sometimes the situations seem so dire that the temptation to give in to a sense of powerlessness and despair is very present. But at the same time, Mission Mexico has been making such a difference in people’s lives so often that the words of Jesus that “I have come that they may have life and have it abundantly” (John 10:10) give a real sense of hope to the marginalized and forgotten of these mountain villages.

Mission Mexico does the best it can to respond to daily challenges and to transform the lives of individuals, families, and villages. The focus of our presence here is especially health and education. We support a number of projects in these two areas, and we partner with other groups and agencies who are dedicated to the same goals.

For example, Mission Mexico offers a number of bursaries for native students who want to study in order to make a difference in the lives of others. Esther, the young woman in the photo above, is from a village called Yerba Santa, and she speaks a language called Me´phaa. She lives with her mother and little sister, and, with support from Mission Mexico, she is studying to be a primary school teacher. She will surely make a difference in the lives of many students in the future.

Edgar, the young man in the wheelchair in this photo above, will graduate this year with a degree in Psychology. Mission Mexico supports his studies. He speaks a language (besides Spanish) called Tu’un savi. He was 22 years old when he fell down a cliff and broke his spinal cord. His goal is to work with people with physical disabilities. In Tlapa right now, a regional center is being built by Teleton to respond to the needs of children with disabilities. The national coordinators of this project wanted to dialogue with Edgar this day; they have 22 centers in the country, but this new one set to open in January of 2024 will be the first in the middle of an indigenous region. Edgar (and several other Mission Mexico contacts and friends) is helping them to respond to the needs of the indigenous peoples in the best possible ways.

So the days and months go by, and the needs seem endless, and new challenges arise every day. Mission Mexico tries to respond as best as possible to as many of these needs as we can. Having spent more than half of my life here in Mexico, I have been blessed to see so many good things happen with so many good people.

Thank you, people from the Diocese of Calgary, for supporting this project. We could always do more if we had the resources, but God knows that we try to do as best we can. Blessings for all.



Thursday, August 4, 2022

Mission Mexico: We Live Each Day to Kill Death

 

“I live each day to kill death,

I die each day to beget life…”

-          Julia Esquivel (1930 – 2019)

I had the good fortune of knowing Julia Esquivel many years ago when, due to death threats in her home country of Guatemala, she lived for several years in Mexico. I wrote the refrain above, taken from her book of prayer/poetry “Threatened with Resurrection,” on the front page of my Bible. I tried to live by that motto then; and I like to think that Mission Mexico tries to live by that motto now.

Here in the mountains of Mexico, we are about halfway through the rainy season. Poor families spread over 700 indigenous villages from three different cultures (Naa´savi, Me’phaa, Nahuatl) have been planting their corn, beans, squash, etc. The hope is that enough food can be harvested to make it through to the next growing season. Some years that hope is realized; some years it’s not.

Summer is also the time when young people prepare to begin a new school year—if they are able to study. There are few educational opportunities here in the mountains, so most young people have to move to an urban area to pursue higher-level studies. Such a move involves tuition, rent, travel, food, books, etc. The cost of that education simply leaves thousands of young people with only the dream of someday being a “professional”—be that doctor, nurse, teacher, lawyer, accountant, nutritionist, agronomist, etc.

Two of the largest projects supported by Mission Mexico here are related to education. One is the Champagnat High School of the Mountain, a school that can receive about 240 students a year—140 living in residence, and 100 living in the village of Potoichan or nearby. The school was built (with help from Mission Mexico) for impoverished indigenous students from areas where there is no high school. Many of the students do not speak great Spanish when they finish junior high school, so it is almost impossible for them to pass the entrance exam for a “normal” high school. The Champagnat High School, run by Mexican religious brothers from the Marist congregation, gladly accepts these students and offers them a very high-quality education.

The other educational project involves bursaries for impoverished indigenous students who wish to continue a university career. Many of the recipients are orphans; most would not be studying were it not for the Mission Mexico support. Indeed, several are studying after a two- or three-year “break” after high school while they tried to “save up” for university studies. But the salaries earned here seldom permit anyone to “save up” anything.

One of the many challenges presented by the COVID pandemic has been a decline in the donations given to Mission Mexico during the past few years. This has coincided with a growing need among the poor in the mountains of Mexico. Three years ago, Mission Mexico was supporting 45 young people with bursaries; at the present time, the number is 22. We simply can’t commit funds that we don’t have.


I spend a lot of time in the mountain villages, and the people in my hometown of Tlapa know that I go to places that most people have never even heard the name of (thanks to a 4-wheel-drive truck bought and maintained by Mission Mexico). So good people often give me clothing or footwear or school supplies or toys to bring to needy families. These gifts don’t change the harsh realities of life for many, but the hope is at least that the gesture can nourish greater faith, hope, love, perseverance, etc.

Thank you to everyone in the Diocese of Calgary for your support for Mission Mexico. The people here are very religious, and they always ask for God’s blessings on the “unknown friends” who help them. I know there are many needs everywhere, and I pray that, as Mission Mexico draws closer to determining just how much support it might be able to offer in 2023, many good people "up north" will consider a donation for Mission Mexico. God bless.




Wednesday, December 22, 2021

CHRISTMAS IN MOUNTAINS OF MEXICO 2021


Children in Alcamani, one of the 700+ villages here

In just a few days, we will be celebrating Christmas. Here in the mountains of Mexico, amid a reality marked by impoverishment, injustice, violence, Covid, and death, it might seem incongruous to even think about “celebrating” anything. But if the indigenous people of the mountains of Mexico have taught me anything, it is that one must never lose faith in the God of life, never lose hope in the possibility of a different future, and never waiver in the love of God and neighbour that gives meaning to one’s existence.

Esmeralda, from the village of Barrio Nuevo, has hydrocephalus

Here, some families will share gifts either on the 25th of December or the 6th of January (the feast of the Reyes Magos), but those families are the exception rather than the rule. There will be no special meals in most of the households. Many will go to a church service on Christmas if there is such a service; many priests attend to 20 or 30 or 40 or more villages, so they can’t be everywhere on that special day. Although even the expression “special day” seems a little out of place for many, since every day is another day of struggle to stay alive and to try to advance toward a tomorrow that might be just a little better than today.

A typical home here in the Mountainof Guerrero

Years ago, I had the opportunity to be present when an incredible bishop from Brazil, Pedro Casaldaliga, was in Cuernavaca to meet with Bishop Sergio Méndez Arceo. I have read many books and poems by Pedro Casaldaliga, and I always remember one of his statements about the meaning of Christmas. Christmas, he wrote, means that

God is within reach of our Hope.”

A fortuitous encounter with Doña Mari outside Xilotlancingo

Those who know me well know that I can never speak of “Mission Mexico” and its projects among the poor indigenous villages of the mountains of Mexico without using the word “hope.” “Mission Mexico” plants seeds of hope; “Mission Mexico” nourishes these seeds of hope; “Mission Mexico” witnesses to Hope. Its twenty years of presence here has transformed many lives; its actions have spoken louder than mere words in witnessing that God is present and “within reach of our Hope.”

Parasites and malnutrition led to Aida´s right eye becoming detached;
it was removed in Mexico City; she has her next appointment on January 24

 On another occasion, Pedro Casaldaliga wrote the following about God’s coming:

God is coming.

God is coming in his Word,

in his Spirit that gives us faith,

in the sacraments of the Church,

in the struggles and joys of life,

in each one of our sisters and brothers,

especially in the poorest and most suffering.

We must know how to wait for God.

We must know how to seek God.

We must know how to discover God.

This woman in Cerro de la Lluvia appreciated
a gift of clothing during a recent visit 

My friends in the Diocese of Calgary and in other places, please allow this to be my Christmas wish for you. May you and I and all know how to wait for God, how to seek God, how to discover God. And for those of you who have assisted the beautiful indigenous sisters and brothers here in the mountains of Mexico through your support for Mission Mexico, I thank you from the bottom of my heart. I enjoy the great blessing of seeing firsthand the difference that “Mission Mexico” is making in the lives of so many of “the poorest and most suffering” here. May you have a most blessed Christmas season.

Yenisel stopped breathing for 8 to 10 minutes during an epileptic attack,
causing irreparable cerebral damage and loss of motor skills


Saturday, June 12, 2021

Mission Mexico: Serving with Compassion

I can now see acutely that my earlier notion of service, though noble and well-meant, was based on many previously hidden, naïve, and incomplete assumptions and orientations. It was based on the concept of “fixing” what is broken and “helping” what is weak from a position of being better and stronger, rather than coming from a deep inner place of humility to serve life as whole.
                                - Wong, Agnes M.F.. The Art and Science of Compassion, A Primer
The Mission Mexico truck — none of what follows would be possible without it

The truck is loaded and ready to go. My alarm is set for 5:30 in the morning. It will be an early start for a  busy four days in “the Mountain.”

There will be lots of time on the wet, muddy “roads” to think about the quote above from Dr. Agnes Wong, professor at the University of Toronto. As Mission Mexico, are we trying to “fix” what is broken, are we “helping” what is weak from “a position of being better or stronger,” or are we “coming from a deep place of humility to serve life as a whole”? In the end, I think that it is our impoverished Mexican friends who get to decide. But maybe if I share with you, the reader, some (and this is just some) of what will be happening during the next four days, you too can make a tentative decision. 

These children in Teocuitlapa like just playing on the back of the truck

My home is in Tlapa de Comonfort, a large town that is called the “heart of the Mountain” due to the fact that it is the major supply center for the 700 indigenous villages that make up “the Mountain.” Most of the roads to these villages are narrow, muddy, curvy — I can’t think of even a bad road in Canada that might be similar. There are three major indigenous cultures in the Mountain: na´savi, me´phaa, nahuatl. Each culture has its own language, its own traditions, its own way of doing things. The Mountain includes some of the most impoverished regions of Mexico. 
Some of the villages don't have a road, so one does what one must do to deliver assistance

One of my first stops will be in the village of Potoichan, in the hope that I might find there a friend called Rosalinda who recently graduated as a nurse. Rosalinda studied at the Champagnat High School of the Mountain, a school for indigenous youth begun in 2004; the installations were built with assistance from Mission Mexico. The school is run by a Mexican religious order called the Marist Brothers, and Mission Mexico continues to assist them with the salaries of the fourteen teachers. After high school, Rosalinda, assisted by a bursary from Mission Mexico, went on to study nursing at the state university. Rosalinda just recently received national recognition for her sobresaliente (“outstanding”) grades in all her areas of study. I hope to be able to congratulate her personally. 
Thevillages don't have gift shops, but the people creatively share, as you can see 

I will visit with Josefina and her family in Barrio Nuevo. At the end of February, I went with Josefina and her mom to the National Rehabilitation Institute in Mexico City, with the hope that the doctors there might be able to offer some hope for curing Josefina’s deafness. That hope didn’t work out, but at least the mother knows that she (assisted by Mission Mexico) did the best she could to try to help her daughter.
First trip ever to Mexico City for Josefina and her mother

In Rancho Macho, I will visit Esmeralda and her family. Esmeralda suffers from hydrocephalus, and Mission Mexico often assists the very poor family with food, medicine, or diapers — as well as delivering clothes or blankets or other items shared by the good people in Tlapa. 
Esmeralda received a carriage from a generous family in Tlapa; this is her bed

In Xochitepec, I will visit the seven children left behind when their mother drank last month paraquat, a highly toxic pesticide. Suicide is not common here, but it does occur. I have some meat, cheese, clothes, diapers, footwear, and school supplies for the children. Some of these items come from Mission Mexico; some come from good people in Tlapa. The children range in age from 8 months to 15 years of age. The children (and I) hope that Mission Mexico can continue offering them what my wise friend Warren Harbeck, from Cochrane, Alberta, calls a “hand up” — not a “hand out.” 
The two oldest children, Angela and Andrea, are great at looking after little sisters and brothers

I will visit in Río Hacienda with newly-widowed Alberta and her six children. Alberta’s husband died on April 10 when the passenger truck he was in went over a cliff; three people died. I have some medicine for the oldest daughter, Sofia, who survived that same accident. I have some meat and cheese and clothes for the family. And I have the updated and validated CURPs (official Population Registry ID) for the six children; all Mexicans, including children, are required to have this legal document. Mission Mexico paid almost $200 Canadian to obtain these documents which the poor father had “put off” getting. The children will now find it simpler to move from one school to another, and there is the hope that they can register now for some government assistance. 
Alberta in front of her house — six children to raise on her own now

I will visit in El Naranjo seven-year-old Yenicel. When she was a fun-loving five-year-old (and one of the smartest kids in her kindergarten class, says her teacher Felipe), Yenicel suffered an epileptic attack and stopped breathing for eight minutes. The cerebral and muscular damage left Yenicel bed-ridden, with the need to receive all of her nourishment through an intravenous tube to her stomach. I have a supply of PediaSure to leave with the family. PediaSure is a nutritional supplement that is formulated to support growth and promote immunity. It has made a difference in Yenicel’s life. The liquid supplement can be kept cool in a refrigerator that Mission Mexico brought to the family several months ago; the fridge was donated by a generous young woman in Tlapa. 
Being with Yenicel might be as close to heaven/God as I will ever get

I could go on and on. I will visit Pozolapa, Xilotlancingo, Tierra Blanca, Portezuelo, and other places. In all places, Mission Mexico will try to respond to the needs of the people with compassion. In the book that is quoted at the beginning of this blog, Dr. Wong writes the following. “For me, this is compassion: the ability to turn toward the truth of suffering with concern, care, and equanimity and with the wish to relieve that suffering …” 
These children in Majawa are comtent with gifts donated by people in Tlapa

This is one way Mission Mexico tries to serve here in the Mountain, besides the “approved projects” in health and education. It is, I believe, a most worthwhile attempt to come “from a deep place of humility to serve life as a whole.” These are our brothers and sisters; their reality is our reality. I say this humbly and gratefully. I am the most blessed person on the face of the earth to be allowed to be here and to call these people my friends. All of this would be impossible without the support of Bishop McGrattan, the Diocese of Calgary, and the good people from southern Alberta. In his book Sacred Fire, Father Ronald Rolheiser, OMI, refers to three stages of discipleship: essential discipleship (the struggle to get our lives together); mature discipleship (the struggle to give our lives away); radical discipleship (the struggle to give our deaths away). Mission Mexico practices radical discipleship. Jesus urges us: “My command is this: Love each other as I have loved you. Greater love has no one than this: to lay down one's life for one's friends” (John 15:12–13, NIV). Thank you, friends of Mission Mexico, for your solidarity with the beautiful peoples here in the Mountain of Mexico. God bless you always.
Driving a four-wheel-drive truck on terrible roads means extra maintenance costs
on occasion. I am most grateful for solidarity in this part of the budget.
 

Thursday, October 8, 2020

COVID-19 IN THE MOUNTAIN

 

It is always a pleasure to say "Hi" to Valentina when I drive by her house

People have been writing to me and asking about the COVID-19 situation in la Montaña (the Mountain) of Guerrero. It sounds like a simple question, but I find it difficult to give a simple answer. Forgive me for trying to explain the situation as best I can. But first, please allow me to give a little background.

Rosalinda graduated as a nurse thanks to a bursary from Mission Mexico

The Mountain of Guerrero has about 500,000 people living in about 700 villages and towns and one city. That city is called Tlapa de Comonfort. It has a population of close to 100,000 people, and it is called “the heart of the Mountain.” The reason for this is that it is the main place to go to in order to find hardware stores, banks, paper stores, government offices, hospitals, clothing stores, hotels, gasoline stations, autopart stores, restaurants, universities, etc.

These women from Tototepec are eating the first cobs of corn from the 2020 crop

Most of the people in the villages and towns belong to one of three indigenous cultures: na savi, me phaa, and nahuatl. Take away the teachers and the governing officials in these places, and you are left with people who seldom have a full-time job but who have families to feed. Most of the people plant corn and beans and maybe some squash or other vegetable in the rainy season (June to October), but even with a decent crop, life is difficult, and everyone has to try to do something to earn a little bit of money.

A family in Tlapa gave me some used clothing that I could share with this family

If someone is fortunate enough to get a job in construction or in a store or working for a not-so-poor family, a common salary is 1,000 pesos a week. That is about 60 Canadian dollars a week – about 10 dollars a day if you are fortunate enough to have to work only six days a week. Take travel and food and lodging out of that 10 dollars a day, and little is left over for anything else.

Josefa was walking to town to sell a heavy bag of squash; fortunately,
I passed by with the Mission Mexico truck

So everyone has to do something. It can be working in one of the stores or restaurants or businesses, doing cleaning or dishwashing or whatever might be needed. It can be wandering on the streets to sell fruit or vegetables or shoe laces or needles and thread or tortillas or bread or pens or plants or sandals or T-shirts – you think of it, and someone sells it. Other families (with children and all) just pack up during the dry season and go to work in the huge agricultural fields that have irrigation in the northern part of the country of Mexico. Many people (especially the young) illegally enter the United States and send a bit of money home every month to help their needy families.

Two of Mission Mexico's best friends: Abel Barrera, director of the Tlachinollan 
Human Rights Center of the Mountain, and Father Cesar Ivan Balbuena Sanchez,
parish priest at St. Francis of Assisi inTlapa

So life is difficult at the best of times. Any unexpected circumstance (an accident; an illness; a loss of a job; a death) can turn a difficult life into an almost-impossible life. Health care is not free here, and many of the indigenous peoples avoid going to a hospital simply because they know they can’t afford the care. Many of the indigenous also feel left out or discriminated against if they speak only their native language.

Kenia received her bilingual teaching degree (Nahuatl and Spanish)
thanks to a bursary from Mission Mexico

Now throw in COVID. Schools were closed; offices were closed; restaurants were closed; travel was restricted. People lost their jobs. People were told to stay at home. How could they do this when that home had no food in it? People were told to keep a safe distance? How could they do that when they were struggling to sell items on the street to everyone who came near? They were told to wear a mask; most didn’t because they didn’t want to buy one or because they prayed to the Virgen of Guadalupe, so they trusted that she would protect them. On any given day walking the streets in Tlapa, I daresay that still, not 20% of the population are wearing a mask or even giving a thought to safe distance.

Some little friends in Barrio Nuevo

So is there COVID in the Mountain? Of course there is. But it is not necessarily documented, so it is impossible to give numbers. As mentioned, few people go to the hospital. When they do, it is often after everything else has been tried (prayers, incense, candles, cleansing), and the medical personnel at the hospital (there is only one that receives likely COVID patients) lament that they came too late.

Fortunately, Roberto recovered without going to a hospital

The prevalence of the virus means that even now all classes at all age levels are online; no schools are open to receiving students in the classroom. In the Mountain, this presents incredible challenges. There are so many places without Internet, without electricity, without computers, without parents who read and write to help their children. I have an incredible respect for the teachers of the Mountain who do everything they can to help their students in some way. But certainly, nothing is easy.

I was fortunate this day; the dirt road caved in, but I didn't roll down the ravine;
these men came and got me mobile again.

A huge factor in terms of life here is the number of Mexicans in the United States (and some in Canada) whose life was changed because of COVID there. Hundreds of Mexicans died in the United States; one of Mission Mexico’s partners here, the Tlachinollan Human Rights Center of the Mountain, has been playing a major role in repatriating the remains or the ashes of victims; this is an important reality to the native families in their indigenous cultures.

Meeting in Teocuitlapa with youth assisting in children's education in their villages

But hundreds, if not thousands, of Mexicans lost their jobs in the United States due to the closing of so many businesses there. That means no more monthly payments sent to the needy families in the Mountain. Families who before counted on that money to just barely get by are now facing misery as they struggle to survive on their own.

Modesta appreciated getting some eggs on this day

So what is life like here in the Mountain during this time of COVID? It is heart-breaking; it is difficult; it is super challenging; it is desperate in many instances.

Mike with Cepillo and Checo, two Mexican Marist brothers who help
coordinate the Champagnat High School of the Mountain

But it is not hopeless. Mission Mexico has more than twenty years partnering with Mexican friends and organizations in trying to bring life and hope to this poorest region of Mexico. Our efforts have had to adapt to new situations, but we have not abandoned the struggle – and definitely we have not abandoned the people. Our efforts to make a difference, especially in the areas of health and education, are not flourishing at the moment – but they are ongoing. Lives continue to be transformed, hope continues to be nourished, and love continues to hold the upper hand in this most difficult of times.

On many of the roads I travel, I come across more burros than other vehicles

Gratitude is extended to the people of the Diocese of Calgary for not abandoning Mission Mexico during the time of this pandemic. Yes, the closure of Catholic churches and schools in Alberta meant necessary cutbacks in the support that could be offered in the Mountain. But the people of the Mountain understand that COVID is afflicting life in Canada too, and they pray everyday for your well-being and health.

Little Yashira almost died in April; without Mission Mexico,
maybe she would have. But she is fine now.

Is the future uncertain? Of course it is; no one knows what is going to happen next. But the Diocese of Calgary is trying very hard to maintain its commitments here in the Mountain. Please, people of Calgary, please consider going to www.missionmexico.com on the Internet; you can learn more, and maybe you will feel called to share just a bit with the impoverished indigenous peoples here in the Mountain of Mexico. And please consider being generous with the diocesan-wide "Mission Mexico Collection" in parishes on the weekend of December 12-13. Thank you, and God bless.

Driving the mountain roads in early morning or late night often offers
some incredible skies