Beware of Falling Palm Fronds

My family is the type of family that wants everyone to be careful about everything, all the time. Surfing, for example: "Don't go alone!" "Don't let your surfboard hit you in the head!" ""Punch sharks in their eyes and gills!" "Wear a helmet while waxing your board! Just in case." The other night we all had frozen yogurt, then went our separate ways. "Walk safe!" my aunt called out after me. I mean, I am fairly clumsy, but rarely have any intention of walking dangerously. This is the same aunt who has called me to warn me of other dangers, like angry homeless people and falling palm trees. To be more specific, falling palm fronds and seeds. I guess it's a real problem these days. I'm not sure if this is one I'm prepared to defend myself against, short of developing cat-like reflexes or permanently affixing aforementioned helmet. Today, my sister and I were in the middle of cackling about something, when mid-cackle she grabbed my arm and said with all morosity, "Be careful in Mexico." 

I have every intention of being careful in Mexico, but can't blame them for being worried. I mean, in a world where you can't walk down the street without being attacked by your local homeless person or palm tree, who can cope? I've been responsible this time and invested in vaccinations, medications, and extra naivety, but cannot account for other dangers, like excess baggage fees, or rapidly evolving land sharks.

I leave January 4th. Technically, my flight leaves January 5th from Tijuana at 2 am. If that's not something to worry about, I don't know what is! Just kidding, family. You know I love you. And don't worry about the picture above. It's entirely staged. My cousin and I weren't actually felled by the palm tree. This time. But I've heard Mexican palm trees are even craftier......

As usual, I don't know when I'll be back. And I don't know if I'll be updating the blog much this time around. It's best if I post when inspired or utterly deranged than out of obligation; and I'm not sure how interesting you'll find my daily routine, unless you'd like me to start giving a daily "Taco Texture" report in which I describe the consistency of the day's taco meat. I could also chronicle other fascinating things like the lineage of local street dogs and create hand crafted patents of nobility.

Of course, I'm sure I'll be dropping in once and a while, and I hope you will too. But until then; watch out for land sharks, and walk safe.

The Neverending Story

I finally uploaded all the pictures from my trip, and it certainly was a trip reliving 3 months in 3 minutes. I got so busy the last few weeks there I didn't post pictures of the aftermath of the crazy rainstorm we had that caused the main road to collapse. Pretty epic.

They repaired the roads in the following weeks; it was that or install an Evel Knievel ramp to bridge the gap. A Witness family owns a restaurant on the beach at Carrazilillo, it got taken out by the storm as well, filled to the brim with trees, boulders, dirt, and kitchenware. We spent a couple days helping dig them out. There's nothing like working hard with a purpose - I've never been so satisfyingly tired in my life.

Looking back is always nice.

And going back is better.

So I bought my ticket yesterday.

Let Them Eat Cake

My welcome home cake, lovingly inscribed by my uncle Jerry.

Reunited at the Kingdom Hall with my hermanas y amigas Tara, Emilie, Zoe, and Sarah. I came back home so I could meet my fifth and littlest amiga, Lyric, (almost) pictured above.

Can't wait.

A Homecoming In Five Acts

ACT I Ready to go. Get to the bus station just in time for the 10 o'clock, only to find that the buses to the airport in Huatulco aren't running. Split a 600 peso taxi with a lovely Englishman who is likewise stranded.

ACT II Spend 4.5 hours talking to said Englishman about everything from Buddhism to the 144,000. Arrive in Mexico City. 

ACT III Eat a chicken quesadilla. 

ACT IV Spend most of the flight from Mexico City to Los Angeles weeping into a giant scarf.

ACT V Finally arrive in San Diego. Greeted by 4.5 of the most excellent foxes I have ever met. 

Truth be told, I'm not ready to be home. I'm in a bit of shock. Before I left, a friend of mine said to me, "Chelsea, I think it's for good this time." I scoffed at him and said "What are you talking about, it's only a few months, I'm coming back." And he said "I know, but I think this is it." I think he was right. At this point, I'm going back to Mexico as soon as I can. If I manage to keep my focus and resist buying diamond encrusted kitchenware or other frivolous items, I should be able to make it happen. I'll miss the ministry the most. My motorbike second. A few other things too.

On the way back to San Diego, The Ballad of Love & Hate by the Avett Brothers came on my iPod. The lyrics made me smile, and then cry, and then smile again.

My vacation's ending. I'm coming home late.
The weather was fine and the ocean was great 
and I can't wait to see you again. 

With A Little Help From My Friends

Pieces of the highway have collapsed! 

New Bible studies have been started! 

I'm coming home! 

I've lost my mind! 

Everything is wonderful. 

See you Tuesday.

Reason Number Six Thousand Four Hundred And Seventy Two I Love It Here

The Trip That Wasn't

We didn't make it to Nicaragua. Guatemala melted. Basically, massive flooding interfered with our plans to bus it through Central America. Pretty sad situation all the way around, but we made the most of it.

Never a dull moment.

Rushed off to the bus station Sunday night after the assembly to find the crew equipped with surfboards, pillows, and sleeping pills. Look at the innocence on Jacinta's face. We had no idea we were about to be thwarted in a large way.

We arrived at the bus station in Tapachula at a cheery 4:30 in the morning to find out there were no buses running to Guatemala for up to three days. We set up camp in the bus station for a nap and to sort out a plan.

Anyone who's had Larry Kline as a circuit overseer knows that the most important key to witnessing is to MAF (Make A Friend), complete with corresponding hand gesture. Vinny wasted no time in MAFing away at the bus station while we waited out the weather.

We checked the buses every couple hours, loaded up taxis with surfboards in search of a hostel that wouldn't end in our demise, and watched Nacho Libre, which kind of makes you remember why you are in Mexico in the first place.

On Day 3 of waiting it out, we secured a passenger bus to get us across the border. At this point, we were feeling pretty bewildered because we had all mentally checked out of Central America mode. They took our bags and board away to the bus. We all looked at each other. Here we go. Taking a dodgy bus into the heart of Central America in the middle of epic landslides. Minutes later, the bus driver comes back to tell us the news - our luggage is too heavy, he can't take us. All of our silent prayers were answered, and the answer was clear. Back to Puerto. Vamanos. 

Resigned to our fate, but what better place to come home could we have?

The drive went swimmingly for 10 hours or so. When we got close to Huatulco, we stopped for a bite to eat and a surf. Kirstie befriended a bird using an amazing series of clicks and tweets. She also speaks Afrikaans, and makes a mean bruschetta.

Kent, not to be outdone, befriended a baby raccoon.

Vin & Kent, aerial scope.

Vin & Kent, sea-level scope.

What's it looking at in the road, precious?

Merely a giant Shelob!

In case you were wondering, this is what  being stuck at a border crossing for three days and then being chased by the above giant spider looks like:

Crazy. Utterly mad. Ok, so the next part of the trip was a bit rough. After we had been fed and surfed, we hit the road for an easy cruise home. 15 minutes pass and the entire highway comes to a stop. An entire village had barricaded the road to Puerto. There is only one road.

After considering all possible options (Do we wait it out? Do we preach to them? Do we give them money for the water pump they wanted? Do we artfully dodge them in our vehicle?), Kent kicks into ultra-Aussie mode and peels off into the bush. Using a series of backroads and four wheel drive, we were sure to find away around the human barricade. Thirty minutes and one brush with a drug dealer later, we found our way out. Into the middle of the demonstration. We sat there like ninnys for a few minutes while the locals laughed at the güeros trapped in their trap. They had music. They had tacos. They weren't going anywhere.

 Long story short, Vince and Kent concocted a plan, and many, many hours later, after traversing one of Mexico's most beautiful and treacherous detour roads, we found our way around the demonstration and into Puerto. The whole car was howling like wolves and screaming like monkeys when we saw the trusty Pemex ahead of us. "We're home guys! We're home!" Jacinita called. We needed beer. We need chocolate milk. Vince had both.

We'd only been away from Puerto for a week. Vince and Jacinta have been here for years. I've been here three months. Kent and Kirstie got here a month before I did. But when we drove down the familiar costera, all of us were overwhelmed with the same overwhelming sensation - the feeling of home.

Imagine Delightful Freshness

Oggy, Jared, Michael, Ben, Chelsea, Isabella, Marcos, Unidentified Flying Stranger

Our sojourn to Chiapas was a mystery box full of treats. From dancing the night away in San Cristobal to waiting the day away at the border crossing in Tapachula, each place had it's moments of splendor and squalor. Among the splendid things were the company.

The Boys (Jared, Ben, Marcos, Michael)

& The Girls (Isabella, Graciela, Chelsea)

Among the squalor was the 60 peso ($4.69) per night hostel in San Cristobal. It wasn't so bad, it simply inspired me to stay out of doors and go for long country walks. And of course, I took the advice found on this discarded refrigerator box:

There you go. In the middle of the ngiht, when the bedbugs bite...Imagine delighful freshness. Don't worry, I haven't got bedbugs. Yet. While some of the others went to Palenque and Agua Azul, Ben and I stayed in San Cris and went in the ministry. Jaqui, (left), and I had an instant bond since we are both "grandotas" (super tall girls). People don't hesitate to call it like it is in Spanish. If you're huge, you're a grandota, if you're fat, you're a gordita, if you're ugly, you're el feo. And that's the way it is, and people will yell it at you from across the street, as if physically unable to resist stating the obvious. GRANDOTA!

While most Spanish speakers have trouble pronouncing my name ("Chucky" and "Chesty" being among the attempts) Jaqui got it right straight away. Apparently, there is a Barbie-like doll named "The Amazing Chelsea". Who knew? Should I sue for copyright infringement? Speaking of Barbies, many Mexican families here have very 'ecclectic' decor. I tend to err on the side of minimalism, and would definitely not be able to handle stuffed animals, statutes and Barbie dolls lurking on most surfaces and corners. 

The "Take Refuge In Jehovah" Special Assembly Day was fantastic - it was the first English assembly in Tuxtla, and there were a little over 300 people there. There was a table set up with maps and information sheets about where in the circuit there is a special need; the English field is growing so fast that needs are constantly changing. What all the congregations need most is stability - a core group of elders and pioneers that are here for the long haul.

My bus left for the Tapachula border crossing at midnight. Us singletons got caught up socializing when I got a call from Jacinta telling me they were on their way to the bus station. Oh right, going to Nicaragua for two weeks. Forgot about that. Completely unprepared, a little bewildered and full of crepes, I grabbed my backpack and hopped into a cab to the bus station, where Vince, Jacinta, Kirstie and Kent were waiting. 

Que Sera Sera

Life is good. I'd even call it great. But the times, they are a-changin'. Tomorrow night, I leave on a bus for Chiapas, Mexico. A few days to explore San Cristobal and the surrounding area, then we have our Special Assembly Day in Tuxtla-Guttierez. Funny, that's where we started our trip last year, staying at the Assembly Hall with Julian and Mimi.

Directly after the assembly, I'll get on a bus with Vince, Jacinta, Kent, and Kirstie. From there, it's off to Nicaragua. WHAT? I know. We're taking a two week service/surf/spying out the land trip. We'll pass through Guatemala, spend a few days in El Salvador, roll through Honduras and land in Nicaragua. We'll be staying in San Juan del Sur and visiting the English congregation in Chinandega, Nicaragua. There shall be a having of the surf, and a seeing of the land. I'm hoping by the time I come back, I'll have a better idea of what my next move should be. Things are so good in Puerto, but I'm trying to follow my head at least half as much as my heart. It would be nice if someone made these life changing decisions for me, but I fear this is one that can't be outsourced. Bueno, on to the pictures.

Holly, lover of all creatures big and small.

Example of creature "small":

Ben stood and delivered his first Public Talk. Nailed it.

One of these things does not belong:

Vinny lovingly tending to the Kingdom Hall with a machete.

The perfect treat after a long day in the ministry.

Alright folks, this is it. I may or may not be able to update again for the next three weeks. If I can, I will, and if I can't, I won't. Everything is so excellent at the moment, I don't want anything to change. But inevitably, they do. And they will. Pero todo esta bien. Por que? Porque que sera sera.

Whatever will be, will be.

Go Therefore, And Make Disciples of People Of All The Nations

As lovely as a place Puerto Escondido is, there is no point in being here if it wasn't for the ministry. There is no activity more rewarding than being used by Jehovah to help people get to know him and harmonize their lives with what the Bible really teaches. Seeing people freed from false teachings and fear of the future is a privilege and a joy. 

There are definitely days when it's harder than others, but even the hardest day brings its own delight. "O Jehovah God...a day in your courtyard is worth a thousand elsewhere." (Psalm 84:8-10) In a typical ministry day, we either do canvasing (looking for English speakers) or not at homes (locating said English speakers), along with letter writing, return visits, informal, Bible studies, and juggling.

Kent, the jack of all trades who used to be in the circus. At least, he dabbled in trapeze artistry. I'm not even kidding. This guy has done everything.

Transportation is always an issue. By using some combination of collectivos, motorbikes, cars and walking, we all manage to get to and from the territory just fine. Graciela lets the service group use her car as much as necessary, all she asks as that instead of using gas, we use manpower.

Actually, we left the car on while her and Michael were on a super long, super good call to prevent us from incinerating, and it punished us by dying.

Nathan and Ruth have ideal transport - a truck with four seats in front, and forty seats in back. I often elect for the truck bed, it affords me opportunities for fresh air and drive-by witnessing.

Graciela, Holly, Chelsea, Ruth

Ben is back! He's been serving in Puerto since 2007. We met him, Haley (Ben's sister) and Pete last year. Since then, Haley and Pete are back in Australia (and dating), and Ben went to Canada to work. Now he's back, and from the looks of things he's rather at home again.

I love the sky and the shadows in that picture. I took it from the back of Nathan's truck, while cruising with Chiaki and Ken, a brother from New York.

Of course, no day would be complete without a baby animal sighting. I think these puppies were taking their first glances at the world outside of "under the tractor".

While following Ben on our bikes to a Bible study, a precious black kitten ran across his path. We pulled over and after making friends with it, Ben decided he had found his new mascota (pet). Unfortunately, it turns out his landlords have a strict "no mascotas" policy. It's really rather tragic, and if there is a workaround to be had, you can bet we will have it.

The cat was a lot cuter than the picture lets on. Of course, I could be blinded by kitty-love. Oh and hey, that's my motorbike in the background! Assorted ministry pictures to follow.

Michael and Diana, from Mexico City

Jared, Ben, Oggy and I went to Huatulco for our "weekend" to soak up a bit of civilization and ministry. Seeing a movie, eating the world's best French toast, a shoe-shine in the park, it was all enough to refresh our souls. We stayed with Melissa (Nathan's sister) and Jason, who are here from Canada with their two young kids spying out Mexico.

Witnessing with Melissa, Katy, Nicolai, and Oggy.

It's going to be near impossible to leave my Bible students. I know Jehovah will look after them, but they are truly my friends and potential sisters. Below is Clara, the woman Crystal and I found at the cheese shop in the market, modelling my helmet. We have been studying a couple of times a week, and we get along like amigas of old.

Then there is Janely, a 13 year old girl who was born in LA and is the only member of her family that speaks English. Bronnie turned her over to me when she left. She has started coming to all the meetings, and gave her first answer ever at the meeting last Wednesday. I thought my heart was going to explode with joy.

Some days are muddier than others in the ministry. While some remain unscathed, like Chiaki and Jared...

Others fall prey to mud sink holes, such as myself.

I shouldn't have bothered getting cleaned up after that, because I turned the corner to see Nathan trying to single handedly push a Volkswagon out of the mud. A woman and her two kids had gotten themselves seriously stuck. I threw off my shoes and hopped in the mud. With a combination of physics and brute strength under Nathan's command, we pushed that sucker out of the mud. 

The woman brought us buckets of water to rinse off, we cleaned up and gave her a Spanish "Would You Like To Know the Truth" tract. Another victory for the Witness Action Adventure League!

 

Now for all those San Dieagans out there, if we had been in the ministry for two and half hours and had just used all of our vital force to push a car out of the mud in the tropical heat, what would we do?

We'd get Better Buzz.

However, this isn't San Diego. So what did we do?

Another block of territory.

You have to love it. Apparently, if it doesn't kill me, it's only going to make me stronger.