And In Come the Rains...

Have you ever wondered what Mount Olympus might have looked like when the gods lived there? We in Puebla are pretty sure that it looked something like Popcatepetl to the left, jutting proudly out of the clouds with smoke coming off the top from the altars of nectar and ambrosia...


But I suppose I should write a bit about the week. :)  One of the consistent things from this week was a ton of Institute classes and sports! We went to Institute on Tuesday and Wednesday evenings, then taught it on Thursday (gave the Career Workshop in English -- it's amazing how well some of these students speak it). Each night after class, we gathered with a bunch of YSAs (JAS - Jovenes Adultos Solteros) to play volleyball or soccer. Volleyball with the group is pretty fun, and it's impressive how good the YSAs have gotten just playing at church, but they are even better at soccer. It's a blast to play with them when we have a really solid group. I didn't get any pictures of the events, but you can imagine a concrete court outside a quaint stake center, kicking the ball around cars and through bystanders to score in the heavy metal goals. Nothing finer.

Wednesday was fascinating -- I visited the city center and sat down next to a man who was reading a book. I wanted to talk to someone about politics, and it turns out he was just the man to talk to. He'd been a communist when he was young, though has tempered into a liberal-leaning leftist now, and had even taken a planning role in the infamous student uprising of 1968! We had a great talk about the different proposals of the parties in this election, the ups and downs of the current party, the high possibility that the party that once ruled Mexico for 70 years might come back into power, and the ever-present inability of the government to deal with poverty. Sadly, it was the kind of conversation where we came up with lots of questions and not too many answers. So typical of politics.

Beautiful indoor garden in the postgraduate
building at the BUAP (Benemérita Universidad
Autónoma de Puebla)

Friday's conversation, however, was a bit different. I decided that, to best understand the politics and economy of Mexico, I wanted to interview some college professors about the subjects. Having no idea where to start, I walked into one of the faculty administration buildings at the BUAP (biggest university in Puebla, where I often study) early this week and after asking around, ran into a professor of economics and international business. He agreed to talk with me on Thursday, and I prepared some of my most pertinent questions for him. He was more than equal to the challenge. We ran the gamut, from agriculture to imports and exports to the government's role in the economy, and I sat fascinated for over an hour. One of the biggest things we discussed was Mexico's long-standing backwardness in education and corruption, both of which are serious barriers to development. Also, despite its rich natural resources, Mexico tends to import a great deal of food and oil and has to export much of its manufactured goods because its own people cannot afford them. I hope I'm able to work with this country in the coming years on some of their goals.

Friday was also marked by a visit to one of Puebla's biggest tianguis markets! The tradition of "flea markets," such a marginal and largely-forgotten part of American culture, is alive and well here. Merchants travel six or seven days a week from one market to another, arriving as early as 3 or 4 AM to set up their stalls before people start coming at 5 or 6. By 8 (when we arrived) many of the walkways are completely packed with people looking for every conceivable item under the sun. The primary good seems to be clothing, from adults to babies to shoes and belts, which is odd considering that no one can try anything on due to the crowds. Besides the clothing, tiny carts full of food are everywhere (often blocking half the walkway), along with vendors of lint removers, bags, figurines, wood carvings, backpacks, and even a separate area for goats, chickens, cows, and other livestock. The picture below gives a good feeling for the often-crowded walkways...

Cuexcomate, "the world's smallest volcano." The descent
into the crater is facilitated by a set of stairs, and at the
bottom is a spring with a tiny waterfall cascading into
an underground river. Beautiful.

Saturday's big adventure was a trip to the tiny volcano Cuexcomate (see right). We descended into the crater, talked to our tour guides for a while, and before long it started to rain. We stayed in the crater a while waiting for the storm to stop (the walls slope upward and shielded us from the rain), but it refused to let up so we decided to make our way out. By that time it had already rained enough to flood several sidewalks, and the thunder was loud enough to set off a car alarm. We ducked into a market to grab some food, again hoping for a break in the deluge, but when we emerged it was even worse (or better, if you like adventures). There was no way to get off of the block with the volcano except sloshing/jumping through rivers of water flowing through the streets. And that was only the beginning. Within ten minutes our entire bodies were soaked from the rain, while our shoes were absolutely drenched from wading through water almost knee-high at times. By the time we got home things had let up a bit, but we were already shivering and quite ready to take warm showers and hang our clothes up to dry. They are still a bit damp, two days later...

Sunday was full of church activities, including dinner with a wonderful family, and today we played soccer and had lunch with the local missionaries. I get to go out and teach with them tonight for the first time ever, which will be the first time I've been able to do that since my mission. So grateful. Also, in case anyone is curious about day-to-day activities here, I bought my first manual razor and have begun shaving with it (see right). The close shave (once every two days does the trick) is beautiful, though I still cut myself about half the time. Usually only bleed for a minute or two. And I still use my electric razor when I get lazy. Aren't you glad you read to the very end, so you didn't miss that?? :)

Workshops and Ruins

The picture on the left sums up the past week quite well -- the mirrors hit me about at my chest, and I'M IN MEXICO!





Seriously, though, this has been an incredible week. On Monday we headed out early to visit the ancient ruins of Cholula, which claims to be the longest continually-inhabited city in the world. The best part? We had an anthropologist with a PhD from Mexico's premier university there to show us around, give us background, and teach us much more in depth than any informational signs. Below is a picture of some of the most impressive ruins (partially rebuilt), with the huge earth-covered pyramid behind them. On top of the pyramid (the biggest base in the world) is one of the oldest Catholic churches in Mexico, a monument to the political domination and religious mixture that happened here almost five hundred years ago.

Taylor and I then took off for Santa María, in the countryside, because my good friends Miguel and Antonia had invited us out to eat that evening! It was Taylor's first time accompanying me to the town, and he found that it was extraordinarily similar to many of his areas in his mission in Sinaloa. We visited the town cemetary (the highest point in town and so different from US cemetaries -- see picture at right), then set off for their little oasis in the middle of the fields! I was having so much fun that I forgot to get a picture of it, but below is a picture of their outdoor cooking apparatus. We talked for a while, then got hit by a dust storm and piled into the basement of their half-finished house out there and told stories until the drizzle had passed. An idyllic evening, to say the least.

Then, from Tuesday to Saturday, Taylor and I taught workshops every day! It kept us busy, but we still had time for some soccer with the institute students (so glad that both Taylor and I played a lot in high school, because otherwise we would be embarrassed) and helping a local young man with English class. Below is a picture of one of our most active graduating classes from the Career Workshop, just last night -- a good example of the wonderful (and widely-varying) groups we teach every week.

Speaking of that group, this week was probably highlighted by our visit to Izúcar de Matamoros, a small town about an hour and a half south of Puebla. It is part of a growing district, and has the biggest branch in the area, so we gave it in the "stake center" there. Most of our participants knew each other well, which made for a different dynamic, and in general it just had more of the homey small-town feel that makes you feel welcome. Even if it's not quite as efficient for teaching situations. :) The first day we spent with the branch president's family eating hamburgers (unexpected), but the next day I determined that I was going to get out into the countryside and complete another school assignment. Mostly it was just an excuse to visit the countryside, which has been my absolute favorite thing to do here, and this was no exception. The basic storyline is as follows, with a few pictures for context...

I walked out in a light drizzle, and driving past our hotel were three trucks with soldiers! That's not something you see every day in the states, especially next to a pink parasol...

I took the same route as the trucks for a while, then split off and headed toward the countryside that I had located on Google Maps. On my way I walked past the main church, and found a band playing in the only dry spot on the church grounds! They were, as usual, exceptional except for the tuba/suzaphone/thing. For some reason, it seems that every suzaphone player in Mexico learned from the same off-key musician...

After a short stop in the church (super-nice priest), I set off in earnest for the countryside. Unfortunately, my pre-trip research was not enough to prevent my getting lost, and somehow I missed my turn and ended up on a completely different highway! By then I was already out of the city and could see the next little town, so I decided to save the 6 pesos and walk to the town you see below...

The fields I passed were all sugar cane, as I found out later, one of the area's best crops. Farmers export quite a bit, though still stay fairly poor because of both small plot sizes and only being able to supply raw materials. But the whole area is much more tropical and humid than Puebla, thanks to both decreased elevation and proximity to the ocean, resulting in the beautiful forested hills that you see in the background. Upon arriving at the town, I climbed the hill in the picture above and turned back to see Izúcar de Matamoros (a great view, but it didn't make for much of a picture). Almost as cool, however, was the donkey with whom I almost managed to make friends with on my way up...

I then made my way further into the town. The assignment I'd prepared for was to ask as many people as possible about their names and the meanings thereof. Not surprisingly, a good percentage had no idea. However, it was a glorious reason to break out of my shell and talk to people, and I was blessed to meet Georgina (below) and Gustavo not long after! Gustavo didn't come out in time for this picture, but he gave me some of the best Mexican sweet bread I have eaten in Mexico or the States, straight out of the oven. I love these people.

Leaving Gustavo and Georgina, I decided to check out some possible ruins that I had noticed on my way into town. As I approached, walking through semi-tropical ferns and vines, I came across this centuries-old bridge:

And halfway across, I looked to my left and saw the ivy-draped walls of what could have almost been an ancient castle! The bridges, the overgrown stone walls, it was all too cool:

I scaled one of the outer walls (I later found I could have walked through a door, but this was much more fun), and upon reaching the top found myself staring down at the ruins of an ancient hacienda:

The hacienda was a system used by Spanish colonists from the original settlement in 1521 until the Revolution of 1910, and consisted of giant landholdings controlled by one major owner who ruled from a giant complex of buildings in the center of his holdings. I was fascinated, and immediately dropped down from the wall and ran into the church for a closer look:

The caved-in roofs and half-toppled walls reminded me so much of Prince Caspian from the Narnia series, when the Pevensies land on the ancient site of Cair Paravel and are shocked to see everything grown over and decayed. I stumbled upon ivy-covered wells, huge abandoned dining halls with the roofs half caved in, passages leading to other passages, trees growing out of the cracked stone, and other such wonders. I could hardly catch my breath before I came upon the next one.

Leaving the hacienda, I was determined to find out more about its history. I stopped several people in the street before I found out where the town's unofficial historian lived, and then hurried over there. On my way I stopped to play street soccer with five young men, just to show them that some white guys could play soccer, and then hurried up to Jorge Padilla's house. Sadly I didn't get any pictures because of the lack of time, but we had the most fascinating conversation about the history of the town and the hacienda. It had been the center of battles during both the Revolutions of 1810 and 1910, been the site of an American's huge landholdings for years, had a sugar manufacturing plant and lost it, had an underground river, and generally the old fellow (blind but extraordinarily kind and knowledgeable) managed to share an extensive amount of information with me without ever boring me. Then I bid him a fond farewell, ran out of the gate and caught the first bus I could find, and made it back for our workshop that night! I tell you what -- I wouldn't rather be anywhere else in the world.

Things I Love About Mexico

I thought that the time had arrive for me to make a list of things I LOVE about Mexico. I imagine that this list will grow longer in the next two months, but it's time you all learned some of the simple daily pleasures that just aren't the same in the States.

First, the food. After three weeks of regular purchases at the local Walmart, I realized that the supermarket is definitely not the best way to save money here, because the roadside shops are cheaper (and way better). To feed my continuing addiction to cold cereal and milk, of course, I have had to continue the purchase of those items, but other than that I just buy snack food for the evenings (pretzels and dried fruit are definite favorites, though others will do). The rest of the time I run into whatever shop happens to be closest and purchase a delicious meal for less than the raw materials would cost. For example, the beautiful sandwich (torta) on the right was only about $1.30, and if I want rice on the side (which between the two will fill me up for about six or seven hours) it's only another $1.30. Huge tacos are about the same price, and at one nearby shop I can get three small tacos for about $0.85. And all of it is so much better than anything I make at home (minus the delicious fried potatoes from last night -- a definite aberration from my normal bland dishes).

I also love the fact that we are technically invited to pretty much any event we hear about. In practice, this is just a cultural nicety that Mexicans have developed, inviting each other to various events out of politeness. But for a gringo that speaks English, it is all-but-reality. Birthdays, weddings, road trips, shopping, meals, sports, farming, fiestas, we've been invited to participate in every one of these at some time or another over the last four weeks. It's been a blessing in getting my schoolwork done, because I'm supposed to attend all sorts of these kinds of events, but also it has been one of the greatest ways to get to know people. And they are such good people.

The Mexican bus system is (mostly) fabulous. It is quick, frequent, and runs to almost every corner in the city. In addition, they will drop you off or pick you up at almost any point on the entire route, not just scheduled stops. The one small complaint I have is that the unscheduled nature of the system occasionally results in long waits and a small learning curve to discover which buses go where, but once you figure it out it's enormously efficient and much cheaper than owning a car. The buses are also occasionally super-nice, as in the picture on the left, though generally we enjoy much less luxury. They also drive a bit too carelessly, but so does almost everyone on the road in Mexico, so that's nothing to worry about.

I love the land and climate here as well. Sunny almost every day, rain almost every evening, and just humid enough to keep my skin from drying like in Utah but not so much that I feel like I'm taking a shower if I walk halfway down the street. The rain tends to pour when it does come, backing up the often-insufficient drainage systems, but since we're rarely out by the time it comes I don't mind at all. The land is so beautiful, once you get out of the cities. Small towns and tree-covered hills (there used to be more trees, I was told), mini-volcanoes, clouds everywhere all the time, the smoking volcano in the distance, it's absolutely stunning at times.

What else do I love? I love the mixture of old and new, which I've dwelt on this a bit -- still, I had to chuckle when I saw the older ladies in Santa María with their classic eighteenth-century dresses and baseball caps to shield them from the sun. I love the informal economy build around helping the lower middle class survive. I love hanging my laundry on our roof so it will dry, and running up when I see a raincloud to make sure it doesn't get soaked again. I love playing soccer. I love sitting and talking for half an hour just because people like talking. I love carrying home our drinking water (fabulous water) in 5 gallon garrafones. I love the markets, and the old colonial buildings, and the beautiful Catholic churches, and most of all I love the people. I love them for their openness, for their fast-changing emotions, for their politeness, for their strange way of interacting with society, for the mix of Indian and European and American that constantly expresses itself in different ways, for their disdain for the current political system, for their giving hearts, for their love for excitement and noise and people -- they are truly one of the finest peoples on earth. I look forward to watching them blossom as the rose, as prophesied, and hope to be able to be a part of that in the coming decades.

"...Charity is the pure love of Christ,
and it endureth forever..."
(Moroni 7:47)

I hope to love this people in the same way.

A Small-Town Fiesta

In the midst of a Mexican
procession... see below. :)

Yesterday I had the unexpected (and entirely wonderful) chance to visit the little town of Santa María for a fiesta! I'd heard a great deal about these small-town celebrations, from books as well as from US traditions of what Mexico is like, but nothing could have quite prepared me.

I was invited both by Gloria Azcatl and Miguel Tiro, and it would fulfill a requirement for my classes down here, so on a whim I decided to take off and make the hour-and-a-half journey out there again to see if I couldn't learn something. Upon my arrival in the town, things seemed to be quite normal -- dogs, people yelling random phrases in English to see if I understood, and funny looks everywhere. But I found an older member of the community, and when I stopped to talk to him one of the first things he mentioned was the fiesta. At that time (early afternoon) they were just getting going on serving mole, which is one of the most traditional and common dishes in the fields of Puebla. It's just a bit spicy, with a chocolatey-ish taste, and all the chickens are straight from the fields of the villagers. Before I went over, we had a great talk. He told me about the days of his youth, when rain was more plentiful and all the roads were dirt and everyone stayed and worked the fields, and we discussed the pros and cons of the younger generation heading off to the city and to college. All three of his kids have left the town for more prosperous work, which he considers to be a blessing, but at the same time it pains him to see the town slowly aging and farmland going unused.

When I made it over to the mole, I found several huge tents strung up between houses. The whole town contributes to these events, usually about five dollars a family, and almost everyone attends. Accordingly, underneath the tents were dozens of big tables with hundreds of people, along with at least twenty servers bringing around rice, mole, tortillas, soda, and beer. Most of the men had drunk at least two or three beers, and it was only two o'clock... but at least that got me into the fiesta! I was standing there, trying to search for one of the two people I knew in the whole town, and everyone was starting to notice the solitary gringo at the edge of the crowd. Finally one of the more tipsy men approached me and starting signalling for me to sit down. When he found out I spoke Spanish he was even more excited and sat me down next to several single women. Tends to happen down here. :)  Immediately we were digging into rice and homemade tortillas and the delicious chicken (no silverware, except for the rice -- tortillas and hands), and the whole atmosphere was full of life. Then out came the band and our hosts and their helpers and they began dancing like they hadn't just been working for eight-plus hours to prepare everything! Some of my favorite photos are below, and I also posted a very rough video at http://youtu.be/txvCcAChXnQ. Make sure to turn down the volume if you watch it. :)

Most of the band -- fun guys. They travel from town to
town playing for various fiestas.

The dancing! The host and his wife were in the middle dancing
together, while all the helpers danced in a circle with the gifts
they'd been given for helping -- a whole chicken and a blanket.

At 3:00 the "procession" was scheduled, to take the miniature statue of Saint Joseph from one host's house to the next (they switch every six months). The family who was losing the santito today hosted for mole -- the family receiving had to provide cacahuates at their house (I'll explain in a sec). The church was full, but only just barely, when I got there just about three. They were obviously just finishing a service, and I caught the end of it (see right). It was fairly repetitive -- the priest would say the same lines, then the people would say a few lines, and they'd repeat four or five times sometimes. But I loved the devotion of the dear people. Small-town Mexicans are truly a special breed. Finally the priest led the way and we paraded around the church with long candles, visiting five little sanctuaries and repeating the same sacred song and prayer before each one (see below). As we walked from sanctuary to sanctuary, however, the band started to play, men set off fireworks from some houses overlooking the church, and the church bells themselves loudly chimed until the moment we stopped in front of the sanctuary! Then everything would go quiet, and the two-person choir would sing the song and the priest would say the prayer. It was such a contrast!

The priest is in the middle -- what a shame that his face got cut off! We got
to talk for a moment after the final service before he ran off for a fiesta in
another town -- good man. I'd like to meet him another day. The sanctuary
is on the right, and almost everyone is holding candles.

Finally we made it back to the church, our numbers about four times what they were at the beginning due to the trickling in from the mole. After the final service, the town gathered around the plaza and I waited expectantly to see what would happen. At first it seemed like nothing special -- a man put a paper-mache goat on his head that had a framework of ribbons on its back. But to my surprise, someone put a lighter to it and he started dancing around the plaza with fireworks going off in all directions! Probably not the safest tradition, but tons of fun. The picture is to the right, and I posted a low-quality video at http://youtu.be/bXRqY2yAvQI. (Remember to turn down the volume if you watch it).

When the plaza was clear to navigate again, I set out to find my friend Miguel Tiro's house. He had told me it was very close to the church, and after a couple of inquiries I located it easily. After a couple of minutes, I convinced him to take me to the final part of the fiesta and we followed the crowd to the new home of the statue of San José, where there the hosts brought out mounds of cacahuates (peanuts) straight from the farms a few hours to the north! Everyone loaded their hats and shirts and dresses with them and threw the shells everywhere while the men continued to light off more fireworks next to the house. As for my place in the festivities, it seemed that having a townsperson at my side combined with the more unofficial activity convinced many of the villagers came up and meet me. It was fun to speak to them in Spanish and watch their reactions, and I soaked up the carnival-like atmosphere. Finally things began breaking up, and I headed down to Miguel's house with him. There I got to meet his wonderful wife and three children, and even got invited to dinner with them on Monday. I really like the family -- what a blessing to be here meeting all these people.

Before I went home, I dashed off to Gloria's house to tell her I had been at the fiesta but hadn't seen her. Turns out she had been in the peanut house, but I hadn't penetrated far enough to see her! So we chatted for a moment, then I caught the bus and arrived home exhausted but happy.

Exploring the Campo

One of my assignments from my classes that I'm taking this semester is to explore the countryside (campo) and interview farmers, work on farms/gardens, map towns, and other small stuff to get to know how life really is. So Tuesday afternoon I set out with the goal to accomplish at least one of the above assignments, without having the foggiest idea of where I was going or who I would talk to except that I wanted to head west, past the famous pyramids of Cholula.

I hopped on a bus that said it was going to Cholula, then waited until the driver said it was at the point furthest west on its route and hopped off again. My pre-explorations of the route on Google Maps had given me a rough idea of where I was going based on the locations of several hills in the area, so upon my descent from the bus I began heading roughly in the direction of a tiny town I had spotted. After several minutes the buildings began to melt away and I entered the beautiful countryside (see right), with little buses whizzing past me on the tiny one-and-a-half-lane highway. It was lovely, except that I still had no idea which would take me to the little town I was looking for. In fact, I didn't even know the name of the town! And if I didn't ride a bus, I could see it would be two hours walking, which I was not looking forward to.

As I pondered this dilemma, I noticed a man standing outside of his workshop on the highway. At first I just waved, but his response was so genial that I figured he might actually be willing to help. I dashed across the highway and introduced myself, then pointed out a hill in the distance and said that I wanted to go to the little town at its foot. He looked at me quizzically, and asked, "What are you looking for?" Naturally I had to explain my assignment and where I was from, and when I told him I was from Utah he asked, "With all the Mormons?" I had to chuckle a bit, and told him that I was indeed a Mormon. "So am I!" he replied, and then excused himself rather suddenly and took off into his shop. A moment later he returned, carrying a little slip of white and tan paper. "That's the recommendation to get into the temple, isn't it?" Well, I ask you, what are the odds of meeting a card-carrying Mormon on a country highway in the middle of nowhere? So cool. We talked about the church for a few minutes, then about my visit to Puebla, and finally settled on a nearby town that I could get to fairly quickly. He pointed out the little bus (combi) that would take me there, and off I zoomed to Santa María Acuexcomac! My only regret is that I failed to get a picture with dear Umbaldo, my new member friend.

The bus dropped me off in the middle of the town, and from there I was on my own. I explored for a bit, and was astonished at how much it reminded me of Mattawa, my first area on the mission. Mattawa, a small town in the middle of Washington state, is 95% Mexican, almost every one of them immigrants from small farm towns in Mexico come to work the agriculture there. The houses, the markets, the people, the cars, the dogs, it was eerily similar. The biggest difference was the beautiful Catholic church and the predomination of stone, brick, and mortar houses instead of trailers. However, after a few minutes of exploring, I decided that it would be more useful to proceed out of the city and into the country in order to find some farms and good people to interview. I spotted a nearby hill, just out of town, and decided to climb it, get my bearings, and eat the small lunch I'd packed. When I reached the top, I saw this:

It was rather breathtaking. In the distance is the city of Puebla, though you can hardly see it because of the smog from the city and the volcano behind me. Just to the right is the little town of Santa María that I came through, situated on another hill.

Finally I had to get down to work. It was sprinkling a bit (it rains almost every day this time of year), so I jogged down the hill and spotted the following:

Make sure that your livestock stay close together... :)

A real horse-drawn cart with rubber wheels! I was trying not to
show too much excitement when I took this picture. :)

A cactus farm. The plant is called a nopal, and is quite popular for
human consumption. So far I have managed to avoid it.

Finally, after about half an hour of wandering the countryside, I spotted my suspect -- a short woman, middle-aged, hunched over some sewing outside of her house. She had a walker and a wheelchair close by, so I knew she couldn't be going too far, and I figured it couldn't hurt to ask her. The ensuing conversation was one of the more interesting of my entire life, but I've gone on much too long in this post and can only include a few highlights from the short biography/summary I wrote last night:

"She had been born in Santa María, to a father who was a peasant but definitely not the poorest in the town. Each of her five siblings had attended the primaria in town, which covers the years of elementary school, but only the youngest had received any further education, and that only one year of middle school in the neighboring town. She lauded the schools of her day, saying that students actually studied—and if they didn’t, they got the belt or a stick with thorns on their wrist. In fact, she was quite critical of the lack of respect of the whole generation of current children, and said that many of the things going on today would have been seriously punished in her time. With the faint suggestion that perhaps they should still be so punished...

"Before the age of twenty, she had been married to a young man whom she preferred not to talk about. Without pushing too much, all I could learn is that she had been separated at twenty years old (she is now fifty) with a tiny baby boy. For those thirty years, she had mostly lived in the same house I found her in, going to town every day to sell snacks (botana) and make other kinds of food...

"Two years ago, however, Gloria’s work in the city was suddenly cut short. She started to have a serious pain in her lower left leg, and when it became unbearable she decided to visit the doctor. He told her that her leg was infected beyond recovery, and that they would have to amputate her leg from the knee down. She was stunned, and adamant that some other solution could be found. Finally, at the fifth hospital they visited, a doctor said that they could try amputating two toes and cutting out an entire section of the muscle in her leg to see if they could contain the infection... Despite the trials of the last two years, and really the last thirty if her subtle hints were any indication, she still managed to find things to anticipate..."

(If you're interested in learning more about Gloria, I posted the whole article on scribd.com -- here's the link: http://www.scribd.com/doc/96222828/Gloria-Azcatl-Clatlipachito?secret_password=2fzmctkmaotjiw6u8x2y)

Finally, with invitations to Thursday's fiesta in the town and a real rainstorm coming in the distance, I snapped these two pictures with Miguel and Gloria and dashed off to catch the bus home!

Gloria A

Miguel Tiro -- I'll have to get a better picture next time I go.

Right before I turned the corner to our house I looked west towards the sunset, the country from which I had come just hours before, and was stunned by its beauty. For the first time all day the majestic smoking Popocateptl was visible, along with its sister to the north, with the sun was just approaching their peaks, and it wrapped up the day so beautifully. The haze was lifting, just a little more, on my view of the Mexican people and their roots. They are beautifully simple, incredibly complicated, and once they let you into their lives you are there to stay. I am so grateful to be here. I leave you with the picture I took at that moment...

Sigh... I Suppose Life Will Never QUITE Settle Down to Normal

What a week! On Monday I wrote about routines, and how things finally seemed to be settling down here in Puebla. Well, this week has proved me entirely wrong.

First, we taught two Career Workshops this week! On Tuesday and Wednesday mornings we were in the Employment Center a block from our house (such a relief not to have to travel or pack everything), with a much smaller group than we had typically handled. It was also a very different dynamic -- these participants were from people who had come into the Employment Center looking for work, not just any members from the stake, so we had a good amount of non-members and a lot of no-shows and generally lots of fun with the group. We even think they learned something... :)  Oh, and the second group was at a nearby stake center on Friday and Saturday, also a bit smaller than usual. But there have been little quirks I love about each group so far -- for example, with this last group, I had some very good experiences helping small business owners adjust the tools we were teaching about to their own situations and helping people trust their work more. We are so blessed to be teaching this thing.



Tuesday night, after our first day of the earlier workshop, I decided to explore downtown Puebla a little bit more. A friend (Evelyn Escobar, from a neighboring ward) had invited me to see her art display, which ended up being quite impressive. It is childlike, but without being too childish, and has quite the unique feeling about it. I included one of my favorites to the right. I also got to explore the local market; buy and eat some rather odd fruit drowned in lime juice, salt, and chili powder; sit in the main cathedral and watch a service (the organ was MADE for cathedrals, I tell you -- that hollow effect gives it something that I've only heard matched in the SL Tabernacle); and perhaps my favorite activity of the night, sit in the main plaza and talk to people and watch the world go by for a bit. I was actually approached by two young ladies trying to learn English and having to pass off assignments talking to an American tourist, which was fun, and had great conversations with both of them. Below is a picture with one of them, whose name has now entirely slipped my mind. Both of our smiles are actually much better than they appear. :)

Also, below is the main plaza (Zócalo) of Puebla. It seems to be the gathering spot of choice for the majority of the city's inhabitants!

Raúl (the friend who was kind enough to let
us stay in his house), Lalo (from Puebla),
myself, and Taylor (the latter two with
some wicked red-eye). And the Mexico
City temple!

Wednesday night (right after the workshop) and Thursday we had quite the adventure. You see, Taylor bought a season pass to the Six Flags amusement park in Mexico City last week, and loved his trip. Of course, to get his money's worth, he had to go at least once more, and since we had a day off on Thursday we decided rather suddenly to pack up and head off! So we flew about on Wednesday afternoon and made it there just in time for an endowment session in the Mexico City temple. It was so wonderful. My first session in Spanish, which was extraordinary, though it almost seemed to be irrelevant which language it was in because the ideas were the same. Most of all, I felt an overwhelming peace there which I hadn't managed to feel for about a week, and some calm about worries that I'd had. Then we slept that night in the house of one of Taylor's mission buddies (I swear he has one in every neighborhood of Mexico), along with their enormous Great Dane. Finally we headed off for Six Flags that morning on the crazy public transportation system, fighting our way through crowded buses and streets before arriving right at the gate. Besides the lines, which are in general the bane of my existence but particularly at amusement parks, we managed to get on most of the best rides and enjoyed ourselves tremendously. As proved by the awesome picture below.

Also, I've included to the left a picture of Mexico City that I took while we were waiting for a bus. It is a fascinating place, full of contradictions and unusual sights. Well, unusual for an American. A couple things I wanted to point out: dog in the street (extremely common), the bricks sticking off of the unfinished house (oftentimes they will partially build the house, then wait until they have enough money to add another floor), the predominantly cinder-block houses (it's actually a solid brick that looks like cinder), and the urban sprawl that has taken over the whole valley and is slowly climbing up the sides of the mountains. 12 million people... it's nuts.

Finally, as if to make sure I couldn't breathe until Sunday came, yesterday (Saturday) after our afternoon workshop we were invited by some friends to go exploring downtown Puebla and dancing. But not just any friends -- American friends! We met all the American girls in the picture at right during our trip to Tehuacán, where they are teaching English. Yes, they don't know Spanish, but they teach English anyways. And apparently it's quite effective! They decided to come up to Puebla for the day, and begged us to find somewhere to go dancing. So we asked our good friend Claudia (red-trimmed dress) if she knew of any safe spots, and she did, so we all piled into a couple cars and drove downtown for a fun, Latin/pop club experience! I tell you what, sometimes I wonder what in the world I'm doing down here... but I love it.

Also, just one note from today. I had the beautiful experience to attend almost two full sacrament meetings, and was touched as I felt both very weak and very supported by the Atonement. Although sometimes things are not easy (in fact very often), and I even wonder in moments if my Heavenly Father is really listening to my prayers, my doubts have been so instantly swept away by His love. I know He lives, and loves me as only a perfect father can. I am so grateful for that -- nothing more important in the world.

Routines

Well, it seems that things are finally seeming to settle down into a routine these days... We got our internet working in the whole house (hopefully even in the mornings), re-arranged the furniture as desired, know where to go to get groceries and drinking water, and when I went shopping this morning I knew just what I wanted and where to get it. Change is fun, but I have to admit -- I'm a man of routines.

Speaking of routines, I should probably record what a typical day goes like! When there isn't anything going (which is so rare that it's hardly worth mentioning), you might find me doing the following:

7:00-10:00 - Wake up, exercise if desired (hopefully I will be feeling better now that I'm used to the food), eat breakfast, read scriptures, and prep for the day.
10:00-2:00 - Usually some kind of meeting at the Employment Center or homework.
2:00-4:00 - Get bored of being in the house, go out to get the biggest meal of the day (the "comida") if I haven't already eaten too much, explore.
4:00-11:00 - More homework, followed by occasional sidetracking onto blogs, email, facebook, and usually a visit to my adopted street vendor family down the street.

HOWEVER, this is almost always broken by one of the following:

- Career Workshop (either here in the city or a couple hours away -- about 10 or 11 hours of work spread over 2 days)
- Touristing (usually 2 or 3 times weekly, though getting to be less as we settle in -- I don't mind that)
- Visits to the nearby university (I have several books that I need to read at the university, and also just enjoy the environment)
- Institute, dinner with friends, or other church activities

So goes "a day in the life", here in Puebla... and I'm beginning to love it already.


Picture:
1. Lounging at my typical homework spot, which doubles as a table for eating when we get around to it.