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 The previous day's depression had been replaced by an outlook beyond myself, which I felt very grateful for - I could not have done that myself.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.
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