Worlds Apart

It is easy to identify the differences and to do it quickly. When I arrived in Mexico I had the pleasure of testing all kinds of new foods, very different from the Tex-Mex food that passes for Mexican cuisine in States. Now I eat picante on freshly made tortillas or quesadillas filled with nopales or rajas for lunch served between 2:00 and 3:00 in the afternoon, and I can buy a variety of fried foods from any number of vendors that crowd the streets. I am resigned to the idea that waking up early to finish errands before work is impossible since businesses do not open until at least 9am and more often 10am. I rely on the corner store for quick access to milk or cheese and on the markets that spring up around the city selling fresh fruits and vegetables. I take for granted the extensive and secure bus system that reaches all the vast parts of Mexico. The education experience for the children I know in places like the state of Guerrero includes rote learning and months where classes are held less than 50 percent of the days. And this passes as normal. While I am one border crossing away from my home, I feel worlds apart.

After more than a week in Honduras, comparisons abound. Again it is easy to identify the glaring differences between two countries that while sharing a language, seem worlds apart. The hot and humid days begin before 8am with a heavy breakfast of eggs, refried beans, cheese and tortillas. I do not have to wait until mid afternoon to lunch on baleadas (large flour tortillas filled with beans, eggs and dry crumbly cheese) or tejadas (fried plantains). In talking with the Mennonite Central Committee (MCC) workers, I quickly realize that it is not safe to be out at night alone in cities like San Pedro Sula, especially as a woman. Most have been mugged at some point during their time, losing only material wealth like money, cell phones or cameras. There is a heightened sense of insecurity. The bus system feels chaotic with people shouting destinations, luring us to repainted school buses for long, hot bus rides across a country a quarter of the size of Mexico.

And yet, underneath these obvious differences, are we worlds apart? What is it that tips the balance in society? What does it take to create a breakdown in trust in communities or lack of faith in the legal and judicial system? Thus far shielded from the violence of the narcotraficantes (drug traffickers), will this violence permeate Mexican society and filter through communities in the US? How can we respond in our communities, worlds apart, yet connected and dependant on one another?