Day by Day 7 - Seeing Ourselves in God's Face

Friday, February 20/09

We arrived at the last day of our trip, and it would prove to be a jam-packed day. After our breakfast in the hotel, we headed out to see the Shrine of Guadalupe. I was not expecting much from this tour, but it proved to be the most meaningful part of the day, despite the huge Catholic setting. I had never heard of this shrine or the miracle before, but I saw echoes of our own story in it. Guadalupe is actually a painting around which a shrine and a town were built. Many pilgrimages have been made there since 1532.

Our guides explained that Juan Diego, an indigenous Mexican, saw an apparition of Mary in a blanket which was carrying roses. This is the short version of the story. The Mary he saw had indigenous features on her, in other words, she was Mexican not Caucasian like the Spaniards. This had a huge impact on the spread of Catholicism within Mexico. Before then, Mexicans were suspicious of this new God and his dying Son. But when they saw Mary was like them, they began to believe, and they began to make pilgrimages to the spot where the miracle happened. It struck me that this was a perfect example of "transcend and include". They had to include their own identity in the new God before they could transcend the religion of their past.

As our guide explained this, I was also struck by our own crew at Watershed. In leaving the conference, we did not see our "faces" for a while in the new world away from what we'd known. For me, studying scripture in recent years and seeing Christ and the cruciform path in a deeper way is the face that helped me embrace the new. As I saw the statue of the pilgrimage the Mexicans made to Guadalupe (seen in one of the photos), I found myself grateful for my own pilgrimage along with you all at Watershed. 

Interestingly, as we looked at the painting commemorating this vision, our guides and other members of the group, whom I had not heard talk in "religious" language during the week, now began to talk of miracles. One teacher excitedly said that he had studied the painting and had heard how there is not known paint on her cloak. Scientists can not explain it. "And," he said enthusiastically, "Scientists have studied the painting under microscopes and have seen that the right eye alone has 12 people in it." Erik our guide said that we need to remain open to miracles. Marcos said that a cousin of his whose life was going downhill with alcoholism, became healed when he asked for a miracle at the Shrine.  Maybe these places of pilgrimage open us all up to the miraculous in life.

We walked around and I enthusiastically bought cross necklaces for the gals and had them sprinkled with holy water from someone who looked like a priest. I found myself praying for Paul here and asked for his healing. It was strangely a moving experience. 

One interesting fact from this tour was how the ancient buildings (hundred of years old) are starting to sink and lean dangerously. They are bracing up the church and trying to fix it, but it looked like a daunting project to me! I took a picture for Cal and Eldon (can you see the angle of the church compared to the straight building beside it?) 

From here we drove out to see the pyramids, about a 45 minute drive outside Mexico City. We saw a lot of poverty outside the bus window, very poor looking homes in grey, concrete ghetto like areas. We received a lot of teaching here in the pyramid area, and then we went to climb to the top. We made the trek up to the top of the Pyramid of the Sun, like I had seen in the Lonely Planet video with Lyle. It was getting hot out, but we all made it up the steep steps. Miraculously, we saw butterflies swooping around at the very top, not monarchs, but some other kind of butterfly. Erik explained that for some mysterious reason, these butterflies are often at this very location, doing a mating dance. It was quite beautiful up there.

Going down, we had to walk the gauntlet of shops and hawkers, ready to sell their wares. I practiced "ignoring them" by looking down and not offering any encouragement whatsoever, which went against the "be nice" attitude of a 2 :-). We were told that if we dared look at them, they would hound us to the ends of the earth until we bought what they were selling. Marcos told us, in his Mexican accent, "Stay-uh strong!" It was however, fun buying some last minute souvenirs, among which were the Aztec calendar for Paul and Bev, a t-shirt for Lyle, and a Mexican shirt for myself. 

Next on our whirl wind tour was our trip to see the Diego Riveria murals at the National Palace in Mexico City. I had heard of Riveria but only vaguely, and we saw these amazing huge murals which depicted the history of Mexico. It was fascinating but at this point I was on "information overload" and not much was sinking in! After this, we walked to see an archeological site where there are some Aztec ruins, found in the heart of Mexico when they were digging a new subway.

We headed back to the hotel with a bit of time to get ready for our "farewell supper". We walked to a local restaurant. We ordered supper and people could say whatever they wanted to about their trip. Many got teared up as they spoke (not me though, I was too tired). My speech however was heartfelt. I said the quote about the pilgrimage which Lorna had given me, "What was the purpose of our pilgrimage? To let a new intelligence prevail." Over and over again people said how one of the highlights of the trip had been meeting all the great people on the tour. I agreed with them all about that. Marcos and Erik had made this a great trip with their knowledgeable teaching, sprinkled with kindness and humanity and wisdom.

Day by Day 6 - Time and Being Transformed

Thursday, Feb. 19/09

The week had already felt so full, and I was realizing that it was drawing to a close. Time was speeding by quickly. Only two more days and I'd be heading home. This morning I felt like I had received so much already that if the trip was over now, I wouldn't be disappointed. 

We had breakfast at the hotel in the city of Patzcuaro. (One of today's photos is taken off the balcony outside my hotel room. There's another of my hotel room door.) Breakfast usually consisted of lots of fruit, hot dishes such as eggs, hash browns and the ever present tortillas, yogurt, and great coffee. Today's destination was the the small city of Tzintzuntzan, located on the eastern shore of Lake Patzcuaro, the lake whose islands we had visited the day before. The city was founded in the 13th century by the Perepucha people and its name means "The place of the hummingbirds" (though I did not see any there).

Tzintzuntzan was the capital for the Perepucha people when the Spaniards arrived in 1522.I learned that when the Spaniards came, they were said to be all powerful and very destructive, but what really killed off 90% of the Perepucha people was smallpox during the conquest. Much destruction happened and the city was largely dismantled to provide stones for Roman Catholic temples and monasteries. Look closely in one of the pictures of the Catholic churches, you will see stones from the pyramids with ancient symbols on them. In ancient times these were covered up, but in modern times, these stones have been uncovered and are now considered a part of their history. 

We spent the morning in a local outdoor museum, where we saw the still standing ruins of 5 ancient pyramid-type structures called "Yacatas" that were not entirely destroyed. (You can see them in miniature in one of the photos). 

In one of the photos you can see Erik M. drawing in the sand. He is demonstrating the ancient way of telling time, not just daily time but time over the years. Imagine 3 wheels, each larger than the other (pictured in the sand). Each wheel has cogs so that as 1 wheel turns, they all turn. The smallest wheel is 260 days long and is considered the sacred year (some think it is because we spend about 260 days in the womb). The middle wheel is the solar year, 365 days and the largest wheel is the Venus year (584 days). When the smallest wheel turns 20 times (20 is the base number in ancient numerology, like 10 for us), the whole calender resets itself. It takes 52 years to do this, and every 52 years was like reaching a new century. Incidentally, one was not considered wise until one reached the age of 52. 

We learned that the year 2012 is another reset year, but bigger than that,it's another reset time within 2500 years. Some people think that something ominous will happen in that year. Erik pointed out that whether something happens that year or not, climate change is reaching its fullest ramifications these days, so it might be related to that. This whole talk was probably one of the most interesting parts of the day.

I haven't written directly about Erik Mollenhauer, our New Jersey guide. I have spoken of him as a "good soul" and a kindred spirit. He is very knowledgeable and very kind and human to boot. I very much enjoyed being his student for a week. (He might be coming to Wpg. this summer with his wife for the conference. He's the one I told Watershed would put on a feast for him...or at least have him for supper!)  I had an interesting conversation with him where he told me about some great books he's read. In one of them, he learned of the Buddha's story. What struck me was how the Buddha was told at the outset of his life to go and learn from everything he could. He did that, learning from difficult events, from storytellers, from suffering, from books. In the end, he was considered a great saint but he knew he wasn't really that at all, he had just learned from everything, not judging anything as good or bad.

Retelling this story to me, Erik paused and said, "I learned this late in my life, that I am to learn from everything. One of my regrets is that I learned it so late." My answer to him was that it was so great that he learned it at all because many people never see this lesson at all. It was a good interchange.

After the museum we went into the village where we shopped some more. There was a lot of weaving stuff available and this is where I bought the skeleton pipes for our guys. I also bought a woven skeleton for myself (and for school next fall). During this day I also saw a bird called the Vermillion flycatcher, my first time for this bird, so that was exciting.  We also saw a black backed Oriole. 

In the afternoon we drove to the present day capital of Michoacan, called Morelia. It was a large city and it was actually getting hot outside, so a few of us kind of wandered around without too much enthusiasm. I think some of us were realizing that the trip was drawing to a close. We were headed back to Mexico City later that day, and we were no longer in the beautiful mountains. I had a coffee that afternoon which later kept me up till past 2 a.m.

During the long bus ride back to Mexico City, there were some excellent conversations on the bus. I was sitting with Mary Lenahan, a teacher with a strong accent from New York. She was very engaging and very kind. She was very curious about Louis Riel and the Metis in Canada. She was surprised to learn that Metis was not a derogatory term, like Mulatto was in the USA. This branched out to a conversation with others about Canadian vs. US politics, history. I was surprised to learn that there had been slavery in Canada. All in all it was a great way to pass several hours on the bus (during which we passed through a big rain).

A book called The Aztec Book of Destiny was being passed around the bus. This was where we could find out where and what we were on the Aztec calendar, based on our birth dates. I found out I was 12 jaguar (my totem identity). This is where I found out that Paul is 12 serpent. It described him as "very literate, and very gifted with words, and that he would use these gifts to help others." He was also destined to walk a spiritual path in his life, which would not always be easy, but would include the road of trials. This would form him as a spiritual leader. Given that he was on my mind so much with his illness, these seemed like good and true words.  

Some of what I read about my own totem seemed to hit home. One thing I remember is that they are philosophers at heart and ponder the meaning of life and their place in the universe, and may align themselves with religion or science. If they do not take the time and effort to pursue this they will feel unfulfilled and listless. This reminded me of the verse, "Do not be conformed to the pattern of this world but be transformed by the renewal of your mind so that you may discern what is the will of God." This verse is my personal totem.

Day by Day 5 - God's Abundant Hospitality

Wednesday, February 18, 2009

The day began with a prayer for guidance and help. No matter what the level of physical health was, I didn't want to go through another day with an undercurrent of anger to it. I also recalled again the nature of the trip - pilgrim not tourist, and aches or pains took a better perspective. The previous day's depression had been replaced by an outlook beyond myself, which I felt very grateful for - I could not have done that myself. As with the rest of the week, I was also carrying a new awareness of Paul's situation, and he was in my prayers. 

The destination of this day was our trip to the school. We had a short bus ride to a lake, where we all boarded a boat that would take us to an island called "La Pacanda", one of five islands in the beautiful Patzcuaro Lake. People of the Purepecha culture live on these islands, a culture which historically was not defeated by the Aztecs. Despite this proud history, the culture has been largely squelched over the years, much like our Aboriginal culture in Canada. Purepecha people who migrate to the States are looked down upon by their fellow Mexicans. They speak an indigenous language besides Spanish. Their language (also called Purepecha) has nothing of Spanish in it, showing their ancient roots. In recent years, the Purepecha people are making attempts to honor this ancient culture. The school we were going to visit was a Purepecha/Spanish bilingual school. 

The trip to the island by boat included a good talk with Barry and Helen, a couple from Ontario. They had deeper interests which they enjoyed talking about. Helen practices meditation and Barry works with delayed students and has a heart for them. He is a chemistry teacher. They both have a great sense of humor. I told them a bit about Watershed, and about Paul. For the rest of the week, they kept asking how he was doing. They came down with traveler's sickness the next day.

We arrived on the island and I for one was feeling nervous. We would be going into classrooms and sharing the material we had brought (my class made a book for the kids, plus I had Canada pins and flags). I also had a game to teach which didn't require too much language, since I didn't speak Spanish. I didn't particularly feel like taking a risk, but in we went. 

I learned this day what being a good host is all about. If I felt nervous, these kind, gentle people made it easy for us. We went into classrooms similar to what we taught, so I went to Grade 3/4. Students stood and introduced themselves and we began to mingle. My nervousness and hesitation melted away as students enjoyed seeing everyone's gifts. I never did the game I had planned because the students loved seeing Brownie the beaver. He was a hit among all the mascots because he was so life-like and he was a puppet. This silly mascot broke down barriers. I was digging up Spanish that I learned on the spot as I interacted. It sounds corny to say it, but the day began to have this magical feel to it. Maybe it was because of the connections we made despite our differences. 

We went to different classrooms around the semi-outdoor school. Friendly dogs wandered around and the sun was shining. Women were cooking our lunch in outdoor fire pits, and all in all, the setting and the hospitality combined to create a great experience. The lunch spread was amazing. The school put on a "show" for us, with traditional dances, which ended with all of us going up to do a group dance.

After the lunch, our group presented them with school supplies and with a large cash donation. Speeches were made in Spanish and English, and some people had tears as they spoke. Many people seemed to be filled with gratitude as I was. Erik M. had a speech which I found the most moving, in which he quoted a poem written by an ancient Mexican philosopher emperor:

"Is it true? We are here for only a little while?

Let us at least leave behind flowers.

Let us at least leave behind songs."

These kind people embodied this poem for me, and were a witness to abundance.

We finally left the island around 3 p.m. and headed by boat to another island (seen in one of the pictures), the island of Janitzio. There we wandered around the shops. I should probably mention the phenomenon of "souvenir shopping". I had a wary relationship to this at first, but as the week wore on, I enjoyed shopping for people more and more. I was always aware of the tug between the temptation to buy everything and the pull to rest in being content with what I had. In the end, I actually feel I was a bit too cautious. I regret not having brought back more of a physical reminder of my time there. However, though it may be cliche to say it, the truest souvenirs are not physical.

In the evening, we went back to the mainland and drove to the city we were supposed to visit the day before - Patzcuaro, which was the original capital of the state of Michoacan. A highlight there was seeing lots of crafts from the Mexican holiday "Days of the dead". This is like All Saints Day. The souls of the departed are remembered, and the returning monarch butterflies are said to be the souls returning each Nov. 1 & 2. There are many skeletons in the crafts, and they are a symbol of resurrection.

Day by Day 4 - Murmuring Replaced by Hope

Tuesday, Feb. 17, 2009

A line from Burroughs gave me a way of starting this day's entry. On the evils of murmuring against God, he says, "To have a murmuring heart when God has been a long time exercising them with affliction is more evil." This day saw me giving in to this evil, but also forgiven. 

I woke with a headache this day, which had been my top fear about the trip. Though I have often written about all the things God has taught me during this affliction, I immediately felt angry and despairing. "Why now?" is what I murmured, instead of trusting. While I took my meds, and the symptoms began to evaporate, I still felt out of sorts emotionally, fearing a string of days like this would "ruin" the trip.

Nevertheless, I entered the day, and looked forward to going to our second monarch colony, at Sierra Chincua, the less touristy location. As I usually do, I tried to tune out the background of circumstances and attend to what was going on. The day and the setting couldn't have been more beautiful. I was reminded of the mountains of B.C. as my group hiked for part of the way along a mountain trail and then rode horses along the steep, rocky part (the other group rode horses the whole way). When we finally arrived at the colonies, we were standing among the clusters, and there were thousands of monarchs. This display was much more dramatic that the day before, and we stood in awe as the monarchs cascaded down along the mountains, in an orange stream. We stayed for about an hour and then slowly began our hike back, first with horses and then walking. 

On the ride up, I talked to a woman on the tour who was a mom from Atlanta. She had two young boys at home and she worked part time as a naturalist. We shared stories about our kids and our life back home. It was only once we'd arrived back that we heard about Ellen's fall off the horse. We saw people gathered around the truck and saw that Ellen, a senior on the trip, had broken her arm quite badly. As I shared at a Sunday morning, I am sad to confess that at this juncture, I reminded myself of George Costanza on Seinfeld, where he shoves people out of the way to get out of the fire, thinking only of himself first. When asked to give up my jacket, I had an inner moment's hesitation, thinking of my own comfort and when and if I'd get my jacket back. The anger I had felt at the beginning of the day was still with me, and the lack of trust. This moment was a snapshot of my soul without trust in God's provision.

As we waited for all the details of her transport to get sorted out (there were many attending her), I spotted a child and reached in my bag to hand out a Canada pin, as I had been throughout the trip. Suddenly this one, semi-cute kid turned into a throng of runny-nosed, poor, greedy children, wordlessly asking that they too be given a hand-out. There was no chance for romanticizing the foreign children here since they were not too endearing at this point! More likely, in them I saw my own greed reflected. 

The rest of the day's plans (which had been to go to M0relia, the present day capital of Michoacan), were put on hold as we began to travel to a hospital.  Someone had thoughtfully and hurriedly bought a stack of quesadillas to eat on the bus as we began our descent. The hours drew on and on as we detoured for Ellen. Miraculously, her friend had found some ductape and cardboard among the passengers' possessions, which helped her make a makeshift cast to prevent the arm from moving. Someone else had some high powered pain killers which the friend (a retired physician)  knew that Ellen could safely take. Finally, the bus met up with the Mexican ambulance, who took her to the hospital. 

We ourselves also went to the hospital to see if she would be joining us. Marcos stayed with her for help translating into Spanish, and Arlene stayed as the expert medical person. (After an overnight stay, it was decided that both friends would travel home in the morning, since she needed emergency surgery for the shattered bone). After stopping somewhere for a late supper, we arrived back at the new hotel, tired but glad Ellen had found her way and was receiving care.

As if a mirror of Ellen's misfortune, this was the night that I found out about the seriousness of Paul's illness in a phone call with Lyle. He told me of the ambulance ride to the hospital, of Paul's worrying symptoms and his extreme pain. My afflictions paled in comparison.

One of the bits of wisdom I'd heard that day came from Marcos, who told us that the word for hope is the same word as to wait, in Spanish. The word "Espero" had this double meaning. And so it was that I went to bed with a prayer for forgiveness. Ellen's break had shown me the darkness of murmuring, how it disconnects us from our heart, and from compassion and connection from others and ultimately from God. I prayed to be forgiven for my selfishness. I also prayed that I might be given another chance. I also prayed for Ellen, for Paul and Bev, and all those in dire circumstances. I read the quote from the gals and waited and hoped in God. When I awoke in the morning, sick again, there was another presence with me. My complaining had been replaced with a peace that was certainly not my own making.

The quote which I read that night in the hotel room was one from Lorna, "And what was the purpose of our pilgrimage? To let a new intelligence prevail." This new intelligence certainly looks a lot like trusting in God in all of life, and totally opposite from angrily wishing life went "our way".