Patience and Trust

I had an unsuccessful attempt at a nap today and ended flipping through the index of my trusty Cuernavaca map, which, believe it or not, actually became really interesting once I came across some of the more hard-to-pronounce street names.

Here are the top 5:

-       Ixcateopan
-          Miahuaxochitl
-          Netzahualcoyotl
-          Popocateptl
-          Tepeyehualco

And I thought I’d add this one on the list, too (it’s my personal favorite): Xoxocotepola

Phew!

Nope, those are definitely not Spanish words or names. This is Nahuatl, an indigenous Mesoamerican language that is still spoken in some parts of central Mexico today. Nahuatl is spoken by some of the older people in the community where I'm placed this year.

Sarah (another YAGM volunteer who I’m working with this year) and I had the opportunity to visit this community on Saturday. We had a mini-orientation into the kind of work that the organization is involved in and it was a chance to get a feel for what life is like in this Nahua community – especially when we were invited to observe and participate in some of the indigenous traditions such as basket weaving (which looks easy but it’s not!) and making corn tortillas (I need some practice).

I was really struck by the complexity of this community because for so long it has been able to retain its traditions, language, and culture but it’s now undergoing so much outsider influence. We walked by lots of stores with the Coca-cola brand logo brightly painted in front and a Pepsi truck drove through the town (like it does each and every day), passing by women wearing shawls as they have for generations.

From weaving baskets made out of palm, hearing about this indigenous tradition as well as its importance for the economic survival of the community, to making room for perfectly flat, round tortillas by scraping away at my own that were too small, too lumpy, and broken apart on the open-fire grill, and searching for deeper answers to the questions that swim around in my mind after our first visit, I left wishing that I had a fuller sense of how all these activities play out in the pattern of daily life. 

Patience and trust, I keep telling myself. 

The fresh, familiar feelings of what is unknown, like the street names, or the amateurish basket and crumbly tortillas that I made, even though they may be superficial examples, are part of a host of situations where doors are opening to new experiences -- doors to new possibilities and understanding. These are just some of the things that are becoming part of a more full, abundant experience as time goes on. So instead of ignorance and fear of what seems different, strange, or mistaken, I'm learning to be patient with (and trust!) the process where the hope, wonder, and surprise of the moment continues to amaze me so far.

Below is a picture of the basket I made. The one with gaps, holes, and pieces of palm sticking out in odd places is mine. And behind it is a “real” one. You can tell it’s woven much tighter, neater, and it’s more detailed; definitely made from more experienced hands!