Sunrise in Puebla

This was taken from the summit of the small hill that dominates my favorite
little town in the countryside, Santa María Acuexcomac. Covering the
summit is the town cemetary, where I went early one morning to study.

Perhaps it's fitting that this picture looks east, towards the rising sun, the birth that repeats itself every twenty-four hours. This week has been one of reflection, renewal, and preparing myself for the month that remains in Mexico and (more importantly) for the years that will come afterward. And of learning to look towards the light.

Early Tuesday morning I woke up with a fever and headache, and still groggy I decided to take a couple Ibuprofen and head right back to bed. When I woke up in the morning I felt a bit better, but trying to go about my normal routine I found my strength entirely insufficient. After a few hours I decided to head back to bed, where I spent the rest of the day. That evening my dear employment center manager, who has unofficial care of us while we're here in Mexico, called to check on my. Informed that my fever continued unabated (along with bowel troubles), he had his wife (a nurse) get on the phone. She promptly prescribed several medicines for a stomach infection, and told me to skip right off to the pharmacy, buy them, and get right back into bed. The fifteen minutes that it took to get to the pharmacy and back might as well have been fifteen days for how much I enjoyed them, but I managed to get back without fainting and promptly fell into bed. By the next day I felt much better, and with a priesthood blessing that day I was practically back to full strength by the weekend. I am indeed blessed that it wasn't worse, and that my health has been generally so good here.

One of my few consolations during a very sick Tuesday was hearing the semi-toneful strains of a mariachi band from my room. I walked out the door, looked down the street, and found the picture you see at the right! It appears the man had hired them to play for his sweetheart -- a great gesture. But they were literally there for twenty minutes, and when I looked the couple wasn't dancing or anything... awkward? :)

By Thursday I even felt good enough to attend the middle school graduation of a dear friend, Raquel Tiro. It is her family that I have made such good friends with in the countryside, and her parents asked me last week if I could be the "godfather" for their daughter at her graduation. It's a simple tradition, consisting primarily of taking flowers to them at the end of the ceremony, but they didn't want her to be the only one without congratulations and flowers. It was absolutely a pleasure. The ceremony was strangely similar to US ceremonies, but the middle schools wear graduation robes (they call them "togas") just like high schoolers. The event was held on the school's outdoor basketball court, groups of students danced, students and faculty members spoke, and I felt oddly comfortable. Except for being the only white guy there, which ALWAYS gets me funny looks in that town. I suppose it's just such a phenomenon to have their cultural events attended by a foreigner. But as soon as I get to talking to them about it, they love the fact that I'm getting to know their culture. Miguel (the dad) and I had a great talk about that during our meal after the ceremony, what learning a new culture does for your horizons. They are such great people. I will miss the Tiro family.

The Tiro Family, in their backyard. From left to right: Miguel Ángel, Julio,
Antonia (mom), Raquel, Abe, and Miguel (dad)

I love mole.

Friday and Saturday we had a workshop in the evenings, with a really fantastic group. I am so grateful when the participants are eager to give comments and ask questions and participate in the activities. But mostly, when they're willing to open their hearts to each other and to us. It takes a little vulnerability, as a good friend once put it recently, but it is so worth it because that is when the best relationships and experiences happen. So with that, and our becoming more and more comfortable with the workshop material, the weekend passed wonderfully. Saturday morning was reflective, in between workshops, as I pondered on where I wanted to direct my life in the years following this experience. That reflection spilled over into Sunday, but I have been blessed with some inspiration and guidance that was sincerely needed. Saturday evening, however, was anything but reflective:

Bowling! Taylor, myself, and our dear friends (left to right) Sam, Carol, and Ami all hit the lanes on Saturday night. Taylor, our reigning sports champ in every sport that we have yet tried, wowed us once again.

Then, inspired by Taylor's still-abundant energy, we decided to go to the park for a little "parkour" -- using buildings and other normal objects to jump and fall and whatnot all over the place. Taylor was by far the most active, so much so that I failed to get a picture of him in action. But below is Sam:

 And I found that I hadn't yet lost the peculiar skill I gained of climbing huge poles barefoot! So I'll leave you with the image of me atop the pole, wondering whatever happened to my sanity...

Man, I love Mexico.