I’m not going to do a day by day, blow-by-blow account of our time in Mexico. There are more interesting ways to tell the story. In addition, I think doing so would be disrespectful to the way that FMC hopes people will experience mission weeks: as a missionary who can’t predict what and who a new day will bring to the door.
I also don’t have anywhere near a “complete” set of photos to document the week. Much of my time involved home visits and being at the mission when people in need came to the door for help, and I wasn’t about to whip out a camera in that context – although there was one little boy whom I couldn’t resist photographing, and his mother gave her permission. Secondly, I wasn’t on the work crews that were doing building work, and never made it out to those sites while they were working – I don’t have any of my own photos of that, but others do. I’ll post a few if they come my way.
But since we didn’t arrive at the actual mission until Sunday night, we’ll tell that part of the tale….
We rose around 5am in San Antonio, loaded the vans and headed south to Laredo where we found Mass at Our Lady of Guadalupe parish and grabbed some breakfast.
Once across the border in Mexico, applying for and paying for the visas went slowly, but smoothly. The trouble came with the rental vans. The paperwork was not right – the details of why don’t matter, although I really think the rental people in San Antonio should have seen the problem up there - and no matter of telephoning or discussing at the window could fix it. So a few of our party climbed back into one of the vans to head back to the rental branch in the Laredo airport back in the United States to try to fix it.
Have you ever crossed the US-Mexico border coming north?
In the middle of the afternoon?
Yes, it took a while. Back at the immigration center, we waited.
And waited.
A couple of hours later, after many games of Bananagrams and Egyptian Ratscrew (intense) and instructions to the uninformed (like me) of the fact that in Mexico we wouldn’t be flushing toilet paper down the toilet…we were back on the road.
(The toilet paper thing is no news to many of you, but not having lived in Mexico or a border town, it was to me. On the way back, stopping about 20 miles into the US at a convenience store, we were met with the opposite message in the restrooms: Please flush your toilet paper down the toilet. And honestly – the other way – I hesitate to say “Mexican way” because I don’t know if it’s standard throughout the area – it’s not as bad as it sounds, if it indeed sounds bad to you. Okay, enough.)
Back on the road. I’d only “been to Mexico” once before if you count 30 minutes in Nogales on our 2005 Arizona trip as “going to Mexico,” which we probably shouldn’t. As you wind your way south from Nuevo Laredo, the mountains appear, first as shadows on the horizon, then as rocky, sweeping beauty outside your window.
We skirted Monterrey, saw just a bit of Saltillo (the diocesan see for our mission), and finally wound our way up and around in the falling darkness to General Cepeda, population 11,000 +, where FMC has maintained a missionary presence for many years, working with the diocese and the parish to serve the poor of the area.
And here we are.
The toilet paper thing is pretty general in Latin America, I’ve found. However, you really do get used to it pretty quickly. As well as having to brush your teeth with bottled water. I’ve come home to the States and gotten up in the morning, and been all sort of panicky that I didn’t remember to save bottled water for the morning brush up = and then realize I’m in the clear.
It is these little things that I think break us out of the mode that ‘my/our way is the only way.’ They are pretty inconsequential, but help one to see that there are lots of different ways that human arrange their lives and the daily details.
It helps one to see the more significant differences, and then under those to find the absolute commonality.
I’m glad that y’all had this great trip!
Looks like Jesus is *busy* down there. Thanks for sharing your story here!
Sorry if that is an indelicate question, but what DO you do with TP (used, I presume) in Mexico?
Small trash can next to the toilet.
My in-laws have a finicky septic system in the American northeast and they don’t flush toilet paper either. They keep a small paper bag next to the toilet and burn it when it gets full or develops an odor.
Amy, thanks for the tip on TP in Mexico. Our family is headed down for a language-immersion experience, and we would not have wanted to have that explained to us in Spanish! Somehow you just know exactly what it is that your readers will find interesting and worth knowing.
Ron,
Have a great experience with your family. But don’t forget the ‘bottled water to brush teeth’ bit either. That includes not running the brush under the tap. Ever. You might need to demo to your kids!
(The consequences of ignoring this can be ugly….)
Cathy
Amy, My family and I are former FMC missionaries and I am a long time lurker at your blog. I am so tickled to see that you and your family have had the chance to experience mission in General Cepeda. Mission is so very healing, is it not? Would you please pray for us as we discern a possible mission post in a land far, far away after five years of life in the States and the loss of our sweet baby in September? I know that you know how much scarier risks feel in light of grief.
Oh, yes I will pray. I am so sorry about the loss of your baby. Thank you for commenting..