Last Day in Olinalá

On my last day in small town Mexico, it was appropriate to eat the classic breakfast of atole and tamales. Sliding on to a low plastic stool, I crowded around the small table dominated by the three large aluminum vats; one with tamales, one with atole de arroz, and the last with atole de granillo. Under the low slung blue tarp, the proprietor Doña was at ease chatting and joking with the five or six diners; the middle age man in a tie to the humble older women from the surrounding communities to the three cheerful twenty-something boys who joked with her while maintaining a definite level of respect. She did a crisp bit of business in the twenty minutes it took for me to drink the piping hot atole de arroz (rice milk), part of my usual morning routine, to which I added un orden de tamales (an order of tamales, which is three).

By mid morning, it was clear that the day was going to be its usual hot, sun searing the plaza. I was sure to indulge in my daily dose of agua de guayaba on my way to buy one last box from the town artisans. In the late afternoon as I rushed to finish my errands, one of which was to visit Doña Sofía, the local seamstress who was putting on the finishing touches of my dress, I should not have been surprised to see people gathering around the sidewalks of the plaza. A procession was about to begin. I vaguely heard the band attempting to tune their instruments in vain. Indeed it was appropriate that I would see one last procession honoring the patron saint of Las Ceibas neighborhood.

I have yet another night bus ride this evening, though not my last. I will return to Olinalá monthly during my time as Country Representative, but I will miss my daily dose of agua de fresa or horchata. I will miss waking up to the sounds of the chickens and sheep drowned out by the booming 80s hits from the neighbors. It is easy to start the day with a smile when the chickens have to harmonize with Journey or the sheep sing along with UB40. Finally, I would be remiss if I failed to mention that during my six months in Guerrero, I thankfully escaped the deadly sting of the scorpion, the menace of the region.

Only My Bed Remained

When I arrived to the office Saturday morning, I was not expecting to have Zacango community members waiting for me. The word was out that MCC was selling furniture. So, a day ahead of schedule, I was making deals and selling beds, chairs and appliances at bargain prices, nothing more than 600 pesos. “Will you take 200 for the mattress?” I couldn’t say no to the older Doña in her jelly shoes. By Sunday evening, the Olinalá office was stripped of everything except for the tools and computers. My house was empty, only my bed remained.

As MCC shifts its work focus in the region from construction projects to watershed management and capacity building, the necessity for administration and office infrastructure in the area is limited. The Friesen-Pankratz family will continue to live and work in Zacango, and I will move to Mexico City to assume Country Representative responsibilities, while the current couple is on home leave for three months.

Adventures on the Road…Again

In all my many bus trips to Olinalá, last night was the first time that it happened to me. And yes, my heart did beat faster.

Ricardo, the Mennonite Central Committee (MCC) Mexico Country Representative, and I were traveling on the overnight bus to Olinalá, which leaves Mexico City at 8pm with a scheduled arrival time of 4am. We were privileged enough to have not one but two movies on the trip, the last being an old James Bond movie. By midnight, the movies were over, and we were on the road again after our first scheduled stop in Chilpancingo.

Ricardo was telling me a story about the infamous chamachos (youth) who stop the night buses near Chilpancingo in order to use the bus to go to their athletic events or siphon off the gas of the bus. He told me about the time when Marion’s bus was stopped and all the passengers had to get off the bus. The rowdy youth took the bus and stranded the passengers in the middle of the road in the middle of the night.

As he is telling me this story, our bus stops. There is a pickup truck parked across the right hand lane that prohibits our large bus from continuing the trip. About fifteen guys surround the bus and demand that the bus driver let them take the bus. The bus driver did not seem that nervous as this was not his first time having to negotiate with them. Sitting in the first seat, I was impressed with his ability to talk the boys into letting us go. After five minutes of harassment and a continual and firm "no" from the bus driver, the truck moved out of the way. We were on the road again and safe.

I am Officially Legal in Mexico

While probably not necessary, considering my length of stay in Mexico and my planned visits to the States, I have been in the process of obtaining an FM 3 Visa which grants me temporary residency status. The three month process has included several rushed trips to Mexico City for signatures and photos along with plenty of laughter at the headaches it has caused. However, this morning, I was rewarded with an official visa. I am no longer a tourist in the country. For my third, and hopefully final trip, I entered the Instituto Nacional de Migracion (National Institute for Immigration) to have my fingerprints taken and to receive a document that looks like a smaller version of a passport.

Adventures on the Road

The Nissan truck spent Friday at the mechanics preparing for our drive to Mexico City, and by Saturday it had new tires, an oil change and new brakes. With the electricity out in Zacango since Friday afternoon, we decided to leave Saturday night instead of Sunday morning. We also reasoned that if we left in the evening, we would have all day Sunday to relax before our Visa obligations on Monday. We secured the few boxes of kitchen items and desk for my eventual new apartment in Mexico City, allowing enough room for the three Friesen-Pankratz children and Hizee’s two month old dog, Little Man, to sleep on the five to six hour night drive. By 7pm we were on the road.

Within a half hour the children were comfortably sleeping in a Dramamine induced state, with Little Man snuggled in between them. The furniture and boxes groaned at every bump, but thankfully remained securely fastened. And thanks to the miracles of science and medicine, we navigated the mountains and curves without one incidence of sickness.

By 10pm we were nearing Cuernavaca. After a quick food break, we were back on the road for the home stretch of the trip. We all commented on how great the traffic was. At 11:00pm going on midnight, there isn’t much traffic on the roads. Having paid our last toll of the trip, we pulled out of the toll booth. Within five minutes of leaving the toll booth, we hear a police siren and see the flashing lights behind out. The flashing lights were not unusual as that is the standard operating procedure of the police; however, we got the message that we should pull over when the police with megaphone hanging out the window yelled, “Más adelante” (Just ahead…pull over).

There was plenty of speculating in the truck as to what our violation was. Were we speeding? Are we not allowed to haul furniture? Are all our documents up to date? We pulled over, and Bruce gets out of the car to talk with the police woman who is also out of the vehicle. They are standing looking at the back of the truck, when I open the door, hoping that my Spanish can be of some use to Bruce.

The problem: No working taillights – none. Well, it was time to negotiate. I explained how surprised we were as the truck was just in the shop all day on Friday. I emphasized that we were part of non-profit, Mennonite Central Committee, and had meetings in the city. A giggle almost escaped me as the police officer nodded knowingly at the mention of our organization. By this time the kids were out of the truck along with Little Man for a stretch break, and Little Man was a definite hit with the officer.

After some more discussion, the officer told us that it was really dangerous for us, especially with little kids. Someone could drive into us because we had no taillights and were driving so slowly. I about joked that we would simply drive faster, but I thought it unwise to press my luck. I assured her that we would be very careful and get this taken care of right away. And with our lone left hazard light weakly flashing, we were on our way again.

Totally Normal

This morning on my 20 minute, all dirt road, drive to Chiaucingo, a community where MCC has worked for the last 6-8 years, I was reminded of what I have come to think of as normal during my time in the Guerrero region.

The donkey is dragging firewood that presumably the men just cut from the surrounding area.

Goats on the move.

Turkeys making a lot of noise.

Goats with no apparent owner....until you look around the bend and find two small boys in charge of moving the pack.

Running free

Movie Night

The water committee of Zacango is sponsoring a movie night every Tuesday evening in the comisaria (community building) during the month of March. The short informative DVDs are produced by Grupo de Estudios Ambientales, an organization that is based in Mexico City, but works with communities around Chilapa, a three hour drive from Olinalá. The water committee is working to raise awareness in the community about water issues and build excitement about potential solutions.

Tonight’s movie was quite informative, offering explanations of what a watershed is and the responsibilities of a water committee and the community to take care their water resources. It was great to sit beside a girl in ninth grade and a five-year-old boy, knowing that the six to eight children and youth in attendance were listening to the message. And it was just as exciting to see the women and men town leaders keenly interested in the information.

Next Tuesday before the weekly movie, in anticipation of World Water Day on March 22, Bruce will give an explanation of how to use the water monitoring kits to measure the quality of water in Zacango. The community will begin collecting data to have a baseline for their future work.