The Beat Goes On

San Miguel truly is Mexico's Disneyland. For example, yesterday, while getting a haircut, a circus began parading through town. Tigers, camels, giraffes, zebras, all rolling down the street in broad daylight. Right now, as I write this in the middle of the night, there is a band of indigenous peoples playing tribal drums and letting out fearsome war cries from a neighboring roof. It's either that, or a bunch of retirees who have really lost it.

Tomorrow is a piviotal day - Emilie leaves us (Emilie is here!), Tara and I get on a bus to Puebla (Special Assembly Day for Puerto Escondido's Circuit), and Nick, Zoe, and Bobby (Bobby is here!) are off to explore and soak up their remaining days in San Miguel. Our bus leaves at 5:30 tomorrow morning, and I am far from ready, thus what follows is a pictorial crash course of the past week or so.

Remember the un poco peligroso festival in the jardin I mentioned some time ago? Nick & Zoe may have accidentally ended up in the vicinity that day. Nick captured some shots that are nothing short of National Geographic, or outtakes from a Zoolander photoshoot:

All the different indigenous people from all over Mexico came out in their full regalia, many reenacting their struggles against colonialism, and others showcasing their traditional dances.
They stayed until the dancers danced, the fireworks fired, and night finally fell. Not peligroso, but quite marvilloso.
In the meantime, Tara and I were cozy inside in our abode, savoring (in ignorance) our last night with electricity.

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Over the next few days, the power was gone, but our guest stars were here. Bobby P. flew in, and Emilie B. made her grand entrance. They fearlessly entered the eye of the storm, and I was able to finally use my headlamps.

BOOM, you're seeing it.

We were able to entertain them with the charming nightlife of San Miguel.

It wasn't so bad. Mainly because the lighting outside far surpassed anything man could create.
And we were not forsaken by any means - just as our water tanks had ran dry, a thunder and lightening storm rolled in, providing us with needed water, and electrifying ( though unharnessable) light. Hallelujah.

Throughout it all, I think Nick was just glad to have Bob at his side at last. He'll be with us for the rest of the trip, whatever that means.

Emilie, in a grand feat of strength, came down for a spontaneous week long Mexico voyage. All we had to offer her was rain water, field service, and more photo shoots. I think she fits in quite nicely.
Tara, ever the seasoned pro, demonstrates ways to make household chores fun. This even beats whistling while you work.

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The field ministry continues to be prosperous and rewarding. Getting to work with different people from all nations and tribes and peoples and tongues is always a treat.

Por ejemplo, our group:

And Emilie's:

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Just when I think my heart can love no more (Oh, Falkor!) I am proved a fool. Marco (below) and his parents have been studying for a few months. He is quite the strapping young man - he moved to Comonfort from Texas; girls fawn all over him and write him love notes at school. After finishing Chapter Three in Learn from the Great Teacher, he wanted to say his first prayer to Jehovah out loud. Why? "Because I love Jehovah." Where do these kids come from?

It would be our last study together, so I gave him a goodbye hug and a gift I had picked up for him. I asked him what he was going to do for the rest of the day. He looked at me with all earnestness and said, "Practice praying."

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Back in San Miguel, Tara and I had our last English lesson with the young ones from the Nahuatl congregation. They can now fully carry out a basic conversation, and also say useful things like "There are eight green hippopotamuses." Later, Tara broke the news to me that the plural of the above is, indeed, hippopotami. Behold, the first graduating class of Really Basic Sort Of Correct English 101:
The next day, Nick, Zoe, and Bobby were off to Nahuatl adventures of their own. This time, it was brothers in the back of the truck, and a long ride out to the campo.

Bobby was immediately was given an affectionate nickname, huitepol, which means, loosely, giant.

I really don't know what would give them that idea.

I think you'll agree that, giants or not, all three look quite content in their environment. In fact, we need to monitor Zoe for attempts to join the Nahuatl people.

If you squint, you might be able to see the two people at the base of this enormous tree. Now that's a tree.

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While our good ol' amigos frolicked in the countryside, we pounded the cobblestone - Chels, Emilie, Tara, and Lynda.

And, of course, our fearless leader Lawrence, outnumbered by women but inestimably cool:

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San Miguel has been kind to us. The friends in the congregation are priceless, and our lessons learned invaluable ("You have to take out the plastic piece from the electrical box.") But soon we will say goodbye to our familiar front door,

and our rooftop nest,

and simply thank Jehovah for his blessings. Especially for the blessing of the neighborhood percussion party finally ending, and that nightly blessing of sleep, sweet sleep! Goodnight.