Patience, Peace & Mary Paz

As I sit here writing this blog post it’s hard for me to get my head around the fact that 8 months ago I arrived with my two suitcases and laptop bag – wide-eyed and full of expectation - ready to immerse myself in this year of service and learning in Mexico.   

It all began as an adventure into the entirely unknown and the accompanying feelings were fresh and new. I had a constant bundle of nerves and excitement vibrating all around me; and there were all sorts of wonderings and questions: who would be my new friends? who I would confide in? when would I begin to trust and share parts of this new reality? And…and?

Fast forward to April. April! I can’t help but look back on how these past months have taught me so much about who I am (probably much more so than who others are). Somedays it’s just plain hard to put into words the ways I have been shaped and formed by the people near to me and the places I’ve been. It leaves me feeling grounded in some ways, while in others I’m left not knowing what to think, or wonder if my values seem as clear as I thought they were.

At this point, I’ve found a certain comfort with that reality. Although “comfortable” would not have been the word I used a month and a half ago when, once again, I found myself holding on to two suitcases and a laptop bag – sensing the all-too-familiar feeling of unknown swell within me. Nervous, unsettled, but determined and trusting that it will all turn out alright.

Enter my homestay mom, Mary Paz. Paz, as most people call her (Paz means Peace in Spanish), is this bright, energetic and full of life woman who adores her family and even calls me her “hija/daughter.” She’s fun to go on walks with and talk together when I get back from work either at her sewing shop or at home. As a seamstress, Paz had been able to travel to Chiapas and Guatemala to lead sewing workshops for women who are interested in income generation (setting up their own shops in their own communities + starting small businesses and co-ops). Paz’s stories of Chiapas, which is the furthest south and one of the poorest states in Mexico, are striking. While Paz was there, she was invited to enter into Zapatista communities and work within churches to organize women and teach them basic-to-advanced sewing skills.   

[To learn more about the Zapatistas, or Ejército Zapatista de Liberación Nacional, EZLN), click on this link.]

Paz says that she and the other volunteers would sleep on the floor or on tables for weeks at a time. It was a challenging experience but a huge opportunity to work closely with the rural poor. It’s so clear that she deeply cares for the people she met there, and she’s eager to share the things she learned along the way.

Now to the house we live in... Currently we’re in the final stages of dust, debris, and non-stop construction racket! When I moved in 7 weeks ago the construction team promised us that they would finish the inside of the house in 2 weeks. Then it would be 2 more weeks to work on the backyard. Now, mid-April, they assure us that there’s only 3 weeks to go! It’s kind of hard not to feel frustrated by all that’s going on but at this point there’s really no alternative than to roll with the punches. I guess once you get used to 7 weeks of construction, what’s 10?

It was a big deal to see things moved into the house a few weeks ago because when I got here my room was complete but there wasn’t even a fridge or a stove. So in those first few weeks, Paz and I would go for walks at night, grab some dinner at family-run neighborhood restaurants (basically a few tables and chairs in front of the house) and start to get to know each other over warm quesadillas and spicy salsas.

It's a relief to look around today and see that things are finally coming together. For one, we can cook and store food! Plus, last week, furniture was moved in to the house - except we’re not exactly settled in because the couch, love seat and chairs are still all covered in plastic and tipped over sideways along the edge of the living room! 

This time of waiting for construction to end is teaching me a lot about the value of patience. That’s been pretty obvious. Never before have I heard the words repeated so often: “Poco a poco/Little by little” and “Ya/Done” (or in this case, “almost over”). I feel my attitude shifting somewhat from finding ways to “get through” the dust and noise to instead embrace my homestay mom Paz’s openness to taking things day-by-day and try to make the best of whatever moment or stage of construction that we’re in.

We’ll feel settled in eventually. And now is one of those times where I really need to practice patience, to allow my capacity for being patient increase. Practice makes patience, I tell myself, in order for the big picture to come into focus. This is what change requires.