A Quick Update

In 2010, we moved back to the small town in Colorado that I never stopped missing while we lived in Mexico. Now I sometimes miss Mexico, but I wouldn't travel as freely as we did when we were there, camping out in remote areas and so forth.

Mexico today is in a period of change, and in many ways it is more dangerous now. That said, I have plenty of American friends who still live there very happily, just taking a few more precautions than they did in the past.

Just to say!

Rosana

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January 1, 2006 — New Year’s Eve is lively in Mexico, and we heard fireworks, a brass band, and partying till long after midnight last night. So I was a bit tired when I joined some American friends for mass this morning.

I’m not a Catholic and probably would have felt a bit too self-conscious to go on my own. I don’t know when to sit, stand, or kneel, let alone how to cross myself. But my awkwardness dissolved as I waited for my friends in front of the church and watched the people arriving. Warm greeting were exchanged, and quite a few were directed to me. Several young men arrived with their guitars.

We sat near the back of the church, and I couldn’t follow a lot of the words spoken — partly because of my Spanish and also because a couple of times, vehicles were slowly going by outside with loudspeakers announcing something.

At one point I heard the word esperanza, which means hope, and I let my mind wander around the importance of hope. Maybe I’ll make a habit of repeating esperanza to myself at times, like when I’m just waiting for something or doing the dishes. That isn’t quite a New year’s resolution — it’s more lightly held.

I did understand the bit where prayers were offered for factory workers, for people without jobs, for people who were alone or ill, and more. I added my prayer for my friends and family in California and Oregon, regions currently going through heavy storms and flooding. Kelly I used to live in two of the places we’d seen in the online news — near the Russian river in Sonoma County, California, and near the top of the Siskiyou summit pass on I-5 just south of Ashland, Oregon. The pass had been closed for a while. We were stunned that two places so far apart were hit at the same time.

Near the end of the service, the congregation sang the Our Father, in a tune I didn’t recognize but I guessed that’s what it was from the zestfulness of the participation. I liked how people were standing with their arms out and palms facing upward, in a universal gesture of receiving.

My favorite part of the whole service was when we shook hands with several people nearby, wishing each other “la paz” or the peace of Christ. It was a lovely connection. I’ll pass it on now, by wishing you, dear reader, your own inner peace in whatever form it comes.

Ah, this seems like a good spot for this photo of a tile on a house. It translates roughly as “Each time there is a hole (or hollow) in your life, fill it with love.”

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