Ven Con Nosotros!

The title of this posting refers to the lyrics of one of the only religious songs (in Spanish) that I have memorized, due to the fact that I hear it so often . It goes Ven con nosotros a caminar, Santa Maria Ven and roughly translates to 'Come with us and walk, Saint Mary, come!'

Lately, Santa Maria has been doing a lot of walking with the people of Santa Fe. As I've mentioned before, the Virgin Maria is revered by most everyone here and the Feast of the Virgin of Guadalupe (commemorating the day in the 1500s when she appeared as indigenous women outside of Mexico City) is amongst biggest holidays of the year. I recently learned that locally the Feast of the Assumption of Mary is almost equally as significant due to the fact that our parish is named in honor of her.

This means that since the beginning of August there have been processions, fireworks and fiestas in her honor which are leading up to the August 15th feast day. Certain groups have their own special celebrations. The other day, a statue of the Virgin was displayed in the marketplace along with welcoming signs and flowers. As I was walking home from work that day (irritated by the noisy, daytime fireworks being set off), a woman whom I had never met before grabbed me asked me why I wasn`t taking part in the parade that was going to be had with the statue. She begrudgingly accepted that I couldn't go because I had a class to teach.

No matter. Santa Maria came to me, as a group of paraders dressed in white carried her statue past my home. They returned a half hour later, stopped in front of our chapel, and a woman more or less demanded that I open up its` doors. Trumpets and hornets were blasting, participants sang, and friends of ours went up on the roof to ring the church bells. Little children trooped in and out of our house to use the bathroom. It seems my frequent singing the song worked and Santa Maria (and her followers) walked to me.

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How does it affect girls growing up in a country where there is such devotion to a figure whose three most well-known qualities are that she is a virgin, she is a mother and she is without sin? I began thinking about this a few months ago when I brought two sisters from our parish youth group to a procession that the Missionaries of Charity (the nuns who live with disabled, abandoned women in the convent where I work) held in honor of the Feast of the Sacred Heart of Mary. Despite it being a cold, dreary rainy day, we marched alongside the nuns and other devoted persons while carrying a statue of the Virgin Maria.

The nuns ordered us to form lines and sing and encouraged passersby to join in the march. At random spots, Sister Maria stopped us so that we could pray and Rosary and convinced taco-stand diners and tired shopkeepers to join in. At one point, we were praying near the highway and I looked up past the Virgin and saw a huge billboard featuring Hugh Hefner surrounded by three young beautiful blond women--an advertisement for a television show called `The Girls Next Store`. (Although in Mexico the program is called `The Girls of the Playboy Mansion because the irony of the true title would be lost here.)

The moment was a literal synopsis of Gender Studies 101 class that I took ten years ago at a small women's college. Society and the media largely promote the idea that for a women to be looked up to, she must either be a blond, white sex object or as pristine as the Virgin Maria. In the United States, there is much more promotion of beautiful, white women, while in Mexico (at least in the part where I live) images of the Virgin predominate. Mexican women can relate to the morena Virgin of Guadalupe but it would be impossible and superfluous to try and be like skinny, white playboy bunnies.

In general, I think this makes women more nurturing because while they can`t completely be like the Virgin (she was born without original sin), they can emulate her motherly qualities. Thus, senoritas often stop me on the street and ask where I am going, why I don’t have a sweater on, and if I need anything eat. When I visit the house of a woman, she generally lists off or pulls out the contents of her refrigerator and cupboards until she comes upon something to feed me.

The tendency towards caring starts at a young age. The other day, I woke up an older man who was passed out drunk on a sidewalk and I sat chatting with him in order to assess his condition. He was bleeding and I thought he should go to a hospital. A thirteen-year old girl and her seven-year-old sister approached me and asked if I needed any help. While they went to look around for taxis, a police officer walked right past by the man and ignored me when I tried to get his attention. (He was escorting someone delivering a large order of beer to a shop.) Eventually I realized the drunk man could talk cohesively and a local tortilla shop-owner who knew him said he would watch out for him. Coincidentally, I ran into the girls later on that afternoon at the convent, as they were volunteering there as well.

Personally, while I reap the benefits of girls and women who are motherly, it can also be difficult. As a young women associated with the church I feel like I`m expected to be offer unconditional affection as well. At work, I am surrounded by orphans and handicapped people who are constantly in need and I accept this. Even outside of that, life can be heavy as I often find myself trying to be patient while listening to the problems of strangers on the street or trapped in one-sided conversations with parishioners at church. Some burdens are ones that I have placed on myself, because as I missionary I feel more of a duty to help the neglected that I come upon in the street than I would have in the United States. (More and more it seems, Jessica and I find ourselves stumbling over people passed out in the street and we recently went to our first AA meeting in order to figure out how we can help the situation.)
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While walking on the day of the Feast of the Sacred Heart of Mary , the two sisters who I had brought along held hands and huddled together to shelter each other from the rain. In general, the bonds among females are stronger here, perhaps to protect each other against a culture of machismo, perhaps because they identify with each other caretakers, or perhaps because they cling to each other as they would Maria. It`s rare to see a girl or young woman alone, they are almost always with a friend, mother or sister. When Jessica and I are not together, we are constantly asked about where the other one is. It's partly out of interest but the implication is: what are you doing by yourself and why are you leaving your friend alone?

I spend my days with nuns who have formed an insular but powerful community. At parties, I see females family members who function smoothly together in cooking and serving meals. In Santa Fe, it`s the norm for sisters or single mothers and daughters to share not just bedrooms but beds. Jessica and I have formed a tight-knit household as we not only live together but spend most of our social time with one another, we work on projects together and for a long time, I relied on her heavily in order to communicate with others. Women gain strength from each other here.

In a few weeks, two new missionaries will joining us in Santa Fe, doubling the size of our household. (Jackie left way back in October due to the health problems of a family member. I was too sad to write about it, but we miss her everyday.) Though I am little leery of sharing a room for the first time since college, I am excited not just for more company but because new-comers mean that the missionary presence continues even after Jessica and I end our time here. Thus being part of this program makes me feel like I am something bigger than just the work I am doing over the course of two years.

Jessica and I talk about the new girls (Melissa and Lisa, both fresh out of college) like parents expecting newborns--we wonder what they will look like, how they will react to their surroundings, and what they will think of us. We even speculate about their names as Mexicans tend to make adjustments to English names. I am excited for the experiences they will have, nervous for them because I know the hardships they will face, and eager to help them through the tough times and share what I have have learned from my year here. August, it seems, is a month of walking together.

Sunny Days

While locked in on parish grounds today, I decided that one of the cool things about being a missionary is that it is perfectly valid to be very late for work for reasons such as you are literally stuck at church.

Though being trapped caused me to be tardy in getting back to the Sisters` house after a mid-afternoon break, I considered the situation was all part of doing missionary work. I had gone to the office in the parish in order to use the computer to prepare English lessons, as Jessica and I have taken on a large number of new language students. This week I am teaching them solo as Jessica went with Padre to a conference in Veracruz.

As I worked, one of the church´s handymen, Arturo, came in to talk with me. He has somewhat limited social skills and generally sits grumpily in a corner smoking and mumbling to himself while everyone else eats and chats. He has taken an interest in Jessica and I though and is always very concerned with where we have been, what we are doing, where we will go, what we will do afterward and what are plans are for the following day. The two of us have longer conversations whereby he asks me questions like ``Who wrote the formula E=MC(2)?, What do you think of communism? Why don`t you have a boyfriend? Is it better to be fat or thin?`` I don`t understand most of what he says, but he is persistent despite the fact that our talks tend to frustrate both of us.

I did my best to fill Arturo in on the events of my day. Once I finished using the computer, he said he would let me out of the church, as the gates are locked between two and four in the afternoon. We went outside and he knocked on Guillito`s door for the keys and Guillito yelled at him to wait. Arturo muttered a curse (there are some parts of the Spanish language I am adept in) and told me to sit and wait. I showed him the English lesson I had made up and tried to answer his questions on how to clarify if someone has light or dark blue eyes.

He mentioned that he had keys to a side gate used as an entrance for cars. I agreed to go out that way, but for whatever reason we continued to sit, and so I thought I had misunderstood him. Alejandro, the church`s flower man, came outside and headed toward the parish entrance. We watched to see if he was trying to leave the parish and if he had keys. Thinking he could open the door, I ran toward him, but I realized he was stuck as well. Then Arturo decided to let both of us out of the side gate.

You might be wondering why Arturo just didn`t let me out of the other gate in the first place. I tried not to concern myself with that as I am taking things as they come. However, in the States, being late for work would have been a source for stress for me. Here, the nuns take little notice of my comings and goings , but if they did question me on my arrival time, I am sure that being held up at church would have been a situation that they could relate to.

However, I don`t have any scheduled tasks with the nuns and they only find need for me when I happen to be around while they are engaged in some task. This is why I have been randomly called over to climb up a pile of rocks and clean a shrine to the Virgin Mary, take down and hang up eight sets of curtains, and put out clothes to dry on the roof while watching the children of workers.

Though the people being cared for at the house are happy to see me come and seem sad when I leave, what time I get there doesn`t mean much to them. So had I been worried about the situation, I would have been the only one.

There are so many things that bother me here that I can`t control, such as the handicaps of the people I work with, how long it takes for things to get done and how schedules mean little to people. Today I realized that when something you can`t change allows you to relax and enjoy the sunshine, it`s best to just soak it in.

Back to School--Missionary Month

Two years after graduating from college, I found myself unemployed, living with my parents and trying to figure out the Next Step. Since I didn't have any friends left in my hometown, my mother suggested that I attend a session of Theology on Tap--a program where young Catholics meet up to discuss religious issues over beer.

This was out of character for my mother as she generally tries to dissuade me from visiting establishments where alcohol is served. And, while she attends church regularly, she generally doesn't go to Church discussions. Knowing her, I deduced that she had a Next Step for me in mind that involved me meeting a nice Catholic boy, getting married and giving her lots of grandchildren.

It wasn't out of concern for my love life that I agreed to go. I went because I was somewhat interested in exploring my faith and very interested in exploring a bar. My mother dropped me off at a local chain pub with twenty dollars, and there I sipped on vodka and cranberry juice while listening to a priest discuss his life as a missionary in Peru and the need for more volunteers.

The idea of missionary work was intriguing to me, but it seemed impractical. It was too far away, I didn't want to put off starting my real life, and most of all, surely you had to be supereligious and holier-than-though to do such a thing.


While speaking with Father about getting involved, he seemed to understand my concerns about whether I would fit in as a missionary.

Glancing at my short skirt and heavy eye-makeup, he gently said ''There are all kinds of people who serve as missionaries. Even people who look like you.''

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Of course, it wasn't until three years after this event that I became a missionary. I related that story to various students in last week as part of Missionary Month. Jessica and I visited the nuns' school in Mexico and shared our take on missionary life with various high-school and middle-school-students.

At first, I was hesitant to be a speaker for Mission Month. I've only been at this for two months and I have yet to feel like I am making a great impact. Most of the time, I feel like I am simply a human playground, as my body spends its days being jumped on, tugged, spit on, hugging and lifting children.

However, Jessica and I created a presentation on what it means to be a missionary for a presentation in which we tried to dispel myths about the lifestyle. This is some of what we covered:

--Missionaries don't have to be priests or nuns. Additionally, missionaries don't have to be Catholic or particularly religious, but those in Catholic missionary programs should adhere to values of the Catholic faith in terms of having a respect for human life and wanting social change.

--Missionaries don't go around preaching. One of the reasons I was hesitant about being a missionary was that I imagined I would have to stand on a street corner passing out pamphlets or knock on doors in order to take people to church. While sharing God's love and gifts is important to me, being a missionary is not about proselytizing, but rather being with people, trying to understand them, and attending to both their physical and spiritual needs.

--Anyone can be a missionary. It's not necessary to go to a foreign country in order to be one, since you can give of yourself to others no matter where you are. Simply by turning of the TV and listening to a family member, or visiting a lonely neighbor, you are doing missionary work.

--Missionaries are everywhere. For this, we showed some photos of fellow members of our mission orientation that we had heisted off the Internet. Mary and Clare from Ireland are now in Texas where they tutor homeless women and their families, but they have explored the culture of the state by meeting old cowboys and visiting the rodeo. Nicole is leading a more stereotypical missionary life as she works as housemother for a simple boarding school in Guatemala where there is no electricity or running water. Julie, Courtney and Jane are all in Peru. Julie and Courtney are working in a hospice while Jane is serving as a reporter and drawing light to social issues that are being neglected.

--Missionaries can be any age. I didn't become a missionary until years after thinking it was too late for me to consider it. Additionally there are middle-aged missionaries in our program, and in Texas, we met an 83 year-old nun just back from doing mission work.

As I spoke, I became a believer in what I saying. I may only be doing small things right now, but as missionaries are composed of people from various faiths, classes, ethnicities and centuries, I am part of something big.

It remains to be seen how much of an effect we had on the students. Their level of interested varied as some students seemed bored and talked during the presentation, while others eagerly shared their own missionary experiences, giggled at our pictures and questioned us about music, money and boyfriends. I am not excepting anyone to become a missionary right away based on our talk. I hope that ten or so years from now, one of the girls wearing a tight sweatshirt and fistful of bracelets over her old-fashioned Catholic schoolgirl dress, might be looking for fulfillment in her life and feel called to do mission work.

As for my mother, she may not have ended up with me and grandchildren nearby, but she was excited by my decision to go and said that she wished she could come along. Yesterday, a package from her arrived full of goodies along with books that she bought for the children I work with. By supporting me, and showing love for those children, she is serving as missisonary.

My Future Plans...

As a freshman at George Washington U., I woke up early in the morning to work on Capitol Hill and sat in while national policy was being debated. A year after graduation, I found myself staying up until early in the morning while staff members at the bar where at I worked discussed whether it's best to use gin or vodka in martinis. (Vodka won, with a twist.)

I've always struggled to figure out what to do career wise. This uncertainty has given me an eclectic resume (congressional intern, cocktail waitress, reporter, interactive analyst) and allowed me to write colorful cover letters for job applications. Invariably, I have found myself at interviews trying to smile and come up with clever answers, all the while looking around a cramped office thinking "Do I really want to sit here day after day?"

I've had dreams of avoiding these trappings by becoming a famous actress or big shot politician. However, the people I truly admire are those who are out there quietly serving the needy and God, people we rarely here about. The altruistic part of me had sometimes contemplated a similar path, but I brushed the desire aside thinking it would be to hard to leave the people and material comforts in my life behind. At the same time, I've had a desire to be like the people who drop everything to travel the world and immerse themselves in new cultures. I've never been brave enough (or perhaps I'm too American) to do this.

However, during my last round of job interviews I felt a calling that has put me on a path whereby I'll have a chance to live like those I look up to. For the next two years, I'll be living in Mexico City, Mexico as a lay missionary with the Incarnate Word Missionaries, a group sponsored by Catholic nuns. Right now, I am at a three-week orientation attending classes covering a range of topics including the history of the Sisters of the Incarnate Word, cross- cultural issues, missiology and Catholic social teaching. I am in staying at the Mexican American Cultural Center (MACC) along with eight other women who will be going to various parts of the world. I feel blessed by this opportunity and will keep you all updated on my journey. Upon sharing my plans with others, there have been lost of questions, so I'll take this time to answer the most common one regarding my future plans; though I am in awe of and have an incredible amount of respect for those who have taken religious vows, I do not intend on becoming a nun.