Don't Cry, It;s gong to be ok

Much has been floating around in my head the last few days, mostly a battle to keep my socks up about our current situation, but I feel a little like Eva did in this picture. I was sure that I had received personal revalation that we would receive a miracle concerning our case by the first week of October, ( General Conference for our church) but to no avail. The absence of such a miracle has prompted much thought on understanding the way the God answers prayers. I am continually taught the same lesson, that I think I learn, until it comes time to live what I have learned, and then I don't quite do it, and then God teaches me again. I have said before that I believe that our work here on earth is to learn to be in tune with our Father, and submit our will to His. I struggle to submit because I have my life perfectly planned out, and His plan keeps getting in the way. That God what a kidder.

In meantime, I am still hopeful to come home some day, and in the meantime hoping that we can settle down here a bit. Since February we have not had employment, and we have just been "hanging out" waiting for the US government to send us home. Although we have had some beautiful experiences beintg together ALL THE DAMN TIME, and serving in our church callings, this chapter is closing and we have to move on. For one thing we are almost out of money, and we need to feel settled. Limbo is a horrible place to live, and we have been there now for nine months. Tomorrow Justino has a job interview in the capitol city Veracruz, and we are hopeful that he will get it and we will relocate there. I am excited because there is a Costco there, and a Walmart, and a Sears and BOOK STORES!!!!!! Not to mention many fast food chains that I have missed deeply.

Justino has been painting houses for 130 pesos a day. That is $13 a day people. A nine hour day for $13 dollars, no wonder 8000 illegal immigrants a day go over the border. I think a large part of the problem for us is that we are in this LITTLE town. Charming as it may be, it is time to move on... Moving on is sad, when one is moving in a differnt direction that one hoped. I told Jusitno last night that I don't know where we will be, but I know we will be ok. I guess that is what God wants me to know, because that is all he is telling me at the moment. So I guess for now that will have to be enough.

The Land of the Free

This week Justino and I drove to the border to renew the permission given to us by the Mexican government to have our truck in this country. We went to Matamoros, right over the border from Brownsville Texas. We left Eva with a friend from church, and I was looking forward to some time without her, and a fun road trip with Justino. We were blessed with success on getting the permit and safety as we traveled, but the trip was a blaring reminder that we want to go home.
Three relatively small events robbed me of the peace that I had recently found about settling permanently here. Standing alone each of these events were small and could be argued insignificant, but all together coupled with the fatigue and expense of the journey ( keep in mind we are still unemployed) made me ache and wonder what God wants us to do, and make me wonder why we are still here.
The first was at the office of immigration, and the officer asked me for a customs slip that had been granted to my brother in law when he was given the first permit on the truck. I didn't have it and was worried because the officer said that I couldn't get the permit without turning in that slip. Well he then proceeded to tell me that if I would put " a little somthing" in my passport and pass it back to him, he would overlook that I had not turned in the customs slip. In the moment I was grateful for the informality of the Mexican government, because I didn't have the slip and I knew to get it would be a pain, so I was happy to slide a $20 bill in the passport, and get the paperwork from him that I needed. He then was super friendly chatting with me about the Jazz, and other small trivia he knew about Utah, and I was on my way.
The second was the fake walmart that I found in Matamoros. Note that since I have been here in small, OH SO VERY SMALL, Martinez de la Torre, I have longed for stores like Walmart. A place where you can buy absolutely anything for CHEAP. There are no discount stores here. I was doubly excited because along with there being no discount stores here there are NO, not even one place, to buy books. It still baffles me that I live in a city where no one reads. I have been dying to read the last Harry Potter book, and imagine my delight when I found it there. My glee was immediately dashed when I saw the price. 500 pesos, that is $50 US dollars. Get real, like I can afford that. For an instant I thought of stealing it. Don't worry I came to my senses and I left empty handed. Broken Hearted I walked to the car, so sad that even though I found what looked like a walmart and smelled like a walmart, I was still in mexico so far away from home.
The third was on our way out of matamoros. We were moving at a snail speed in a line of traffic, and suddenly we were being pulled over. Justino was driving and he does not have a license. His Utah license expired in may, and because driving here with no license is rarely an issue he has not gotten a new one. ( by the way, I have been on his case about doing it, and he hasn't, He needs to have it) So we asked the officer why he was pulling us over, and he won't tell us. Clearly not speeding or breaking the law AT ALL, he just got lucky that Justino's license was expired. Justino told him to give him the ticket. Well he doesn't want to give him a ticket. Here if you get a ticket you are escorted to the office to pay immediately and the fine is 150 pesos. He said that the office to pay the ticket was an hour away, and he didn't want to make the journey, and knew we didn't. So, he asks Justino to step out of the car, and then he tell him that it wouldn't be polite to ask in front of his wife, but if he will give him 100 pesos, then he will let us go. Justino paid him, and then I had to drive. I was irate!!!! Clearly he pulled us over because he needed some money for lunch. Because it was cheaper and more convenient we played along, but the cylce continues. The Mexican people, in this case MY HUSBAND, don't value or regard the law because they know that it will never be enforced due to the corruption in the police force. Thus, crime is high, and an overall attitude of informality is bred into society. The cops aren't the only ones, the politicians are worse.
These are the things that are screwing the hard working Mexican people. These are the things that make earning a living here so difficult. This is the mentality that makes it ok for the government here to steal the tax dollars instead of paving the roads and providing clean water. This is the machine the drives the economy here in the toilet. I look around and see more natural resources than I can imagine. Fruit and oil in such abundance. I am stunned that this country isn't so rich. But this corruption keeps it's citizens in bondage. This is why my friend silvia doesn't have running water and has to leave her small children to bring water, even though she live a half a block down the street from me. The government can't afford to run the pipe all the way down the street if the dirty politicians are stealing half of the funds. This is why my friend Franky who has a masters degree to teach has crossed the border three times, to earn money to buy his plaza. Here it is not enough to be educated, you have to come up with 50,000 DOLLARS, not pesos, to buy your classroom and then the government will let you teach. Frankie makes 220 pesos a day painting houses. That is 22 USD, and he could make that in an hour in the states. No wonder they are all crossing the border. I ranted at Justino, because I am not used to this. In my country the road gets paved before the houses are even built. In my country you only have no water if you live on the top of a mountain in a tent, and the only reason you can't drink tap water is if you are SO sophisticated that you have to buy your water, or for the mere convenience, not because you will be sick if you do. In my country you can have ANYTHING if you are willing to work for it. The Mexican people I know, work harder than any American I have ever met, and so many of them have SO SO little.
All my life I heard that I lived in a free country, and I never really knew what that meant. When I left my country I was angry at the imperfect system there that denied my husbands visa. I was disgusted at the small amount of money that our servicemen make, and so many other things that aren't right about our system. I distrusted the government. I know that the US government is not perfect. My life is evidence of that. But I am grateful for the good things they do. I am grateful for the clean water, and paved roads and the constant electricity and all the things that I thought we just part of everyone's life. Now that I live here I know that they are not, and they are such luxuries that i took so for granted. There is much about Mexico that I love and I want my children to know the good of this country and especially the good of this people. But I am an American. My whole family is there, Justino's whole family is there. Please Dear God send us back to the land of the free.

life is Good

Well I haven't posted for a couple of weeks, and thought I would just let everyone know that I live so good here. I have just spent the afternoon with a lady I met at church. She is close to my age, and has three kids. Her youngest is almost one. She moved here from Jalisco about the same time I did, and talking to her makes me realize how good I've got it. She lives in a room, with no running water. She has to bring her water from a well nearly a block away to wash. It's hard enough to wash by hand, let alone, not having water accessible. And what do you do with the one year old while you truck loads of water back home to wash. It is so hot in her house I thought I was I was going to sweat to death and it wasn't even hot today. She has a five year old, and she has to walk him to and from school eveyday. Today her one year old was sick, but she still had to make the trek, because the 5 yr old can't miss school. I walked with her. SHe is great to talk to, and so nice. Mostly I like to talk to her because she is real. She says it like it is. We talk about kids. I ask her how long her youngest sleeps and how much he eats and what he eas. SHe says he sleeps when he is tired and eats whatever I have to give him when he is hungry. I thought, wow what a novel idea. I am always trying to get eva on the perfect schedule and make sure she is eating exactly what is indicated on the chart put out by the National Heart Association. It makes me think that I am stressing over something that naturally should happen. Or maybe it's because I come from a world that is so convenient that I have to much time on my hands to worry about stuff like that. She is not worrying about what he eats or when or how long he sleeps. She is worrying that he doesn't get hurt while he is alone while she is off to get water. Or worried that she will have enough to feed him. Justino says that Eva wastes more food than he had growing up. How sad is that. I mean seriously. And now I come home to what americans would call humble and it is a palace compared to where she lives. And it is cool, and I can bathe eva inside now, because the boiler go fixed, and all the while I am thinking, here I am, so much better off than most people who live here. I can' believe how spoiled I am, and all Americans I know are. It make me want to give away everything I own, to help. The real irony is, that because they work so hard, and have so little they are like the most Christlike wonderful people in the world. ANd when I think about that, it makes me wonder if I am really so much better off, because they got what I am striving for. A reverence and gratitude for life, and a level spirituality that not only is the key to salvation, but the key to being happy everyday. They have so little, and yet they are so happy. I am truly in awe, as I think about the simple depth of these people. I am so grateful, that I got to come and learn from them. wow.

Eva the Beautiful

Independence Day

Well we missed the GRITO, which is where everyone gets together and yells, VIVA MEXICO, because they start the celebration the night before, and Eva wasn't feeling that good, so 10p was alittle late for her to be partying, but we went to the parade on the morning of the 16th, the actual day of Independence. Eva loved the horses and the drums. Although I was disappointed that we didn't get to see more of the celebrations, it was still fun, and we still say, VIVA MEXICO.

Mary Diaz

Today I went to wash some clothes at Mary Diaz’s home. She is the branch president’s wife, and the seminary teacher, and a really amazing lady. She has a washer and I went to use it. As I sat at her home while I waited for the clothes, a deep sense of wonderment and desire to understand came over me. Only one room in her home has a roof, over it, she cooks over a fire, and has only dirt floors. Her daughter Carla has only two t-shirts and neither of them fit. Mary told me that she knows how to sew but can’t afford a machine. She sewed Carla’s Uniform for school, a wool skirt, BY HAND. A pleated wool skirt, are you kidding me?

She cooked as we talked and I waited, and she had puppies around her feet laying in the dirt, and flies everywhere. But she moved and worked like a dance, she controlled the flames of the fire as easily as I turn a knob to reduce the heat on an electric stove. She automatically covers every thing so that the flies don’t get in, and she moves the hot pan over the rising flames with her bare hands as if it wasn’t hot at all. I asked her if she gets burned, and she said, simply, No.

She is a short fat little lady, with short hair that she gels up so it looks darling and stylish, but she wears an old t shirt with the neck cut out, and a very old worn skirt. She speaks pure truth, and doesn’t mince her words, and when she laughs it reminds me of how I think santa would laugh if he were real. Her head falls back and she laughs from a deep sincere part of herself, it brings forth a sound that really makes me feel happy, and it is obvious that she is truly a happy person.

All day every I think about my home. I think about carpet and cars and washers and dryers and microwaves, and TV’s and cable, and paved streets, and running water, and electricity, and hot water, and what an EASY EASY life I had there, and I want to go back. But I wonder if I was ever as happy as Mary’s Laugh. Truly sincerely joyful. And I wonder what wrong with me. Why am I so weak? I want to be as tough and as happy as Mary, but I am not. I am not because I was born in an easy. I think as Americans go, I am pretty tough, but I am weak sauce compared to Mary.

Who is better? Well no one is better than anyone else, Right? I believe that. But why was I born to the ease and comfort and Opportunity, I am stunned when I think about the opportunity, and she was born here. why can she work circles around me, and I am a weak and pathetic compared to her. But why was I allowed the chance to develop my talents, and enjoy every comfort that life has to offer, aind she doesn't even have a floor in her house.

She is a talented seamstress and pianist, but she wasn’t born to parents that paid for a weekly lesson with the finest teachers in the state since she was five years old. Nor did she have the luxury to practice the piano everyday after school, because she had to work. Work hard to live and survive and keep her family going. And now her children are the only ones in the church besides me that play the hymns, but they are self taught, and don’t know the names of the notes or the symbols, they just get the notes off the page. And her oldest son wants to go to high school, but it is not free here, and so he doesn’t get to go. And he works, all day and then goes to the church to play the piano.

I guess who is better off is the real question. She doesn’t know a different life, and she has developed the gift of being happy in the life god gave her. And her life if is not about things, its about people and giving and serving and working hard, and I know that is why she is happy, she is focused on the things that make you happy. Carpet and microwaves are nice, but they don’t really make you happy. They make a walk through the living room nicer and serving left overs easier but they don’t really give you true joy, like Mary has. So I guess she is better off. Because it is so easy to forget what truly makes you happy and what truly matters when life is so easy.

Temple Trip

This is the Vera Cruz temple. We left our apartment at 345am, and got on a bus with
other members of our branch and a neighboring ward at 4a. We arrived at temple a little after 8am. we did a sessions and sealings and spent a long time in the celestial room. We left about 3p. What a beautiful day in the temple. I wanted to leave with a more clear idea of what we need to do and how long we will be here, but I didn't get that. Just peace. At the end of it all, that was enough.