Flee Into the Mountains

Holly, Bronnie, Charlotte, Sharon, and Chelsea, being photographed by a monkey in a tree.

There are a surprising amount of congregations and territories in the mountains surrounding Puerto Escondido. It never ceases to amaze me that in a country where the next main grocery store can be hours away, the next Kingdom Hall is usually only down the road. In fact, in Puerto Escondido alone, there are at least 5 Spanish congregations, 1 English, and a handful of indigenous language congregations from Nahuatl to Zapotec. During the inevitable "So...why are you here?" conversations with strangers, it's not unusual to find out that they are studying with the Witnesses, if not JWs themselves. Pretty cool.

Jared, a young Australian guy in the congregation, was invited by a Special Pioneer couple to bring a group up for a Spanish ministry day in San Gabriel. We cobbled together a group and headed up to the mountains. After the decidedly worst taxi ride of my life, we arrived and were greeted by the San Gabriel Welcoming Committee:
We walked to the Kingdom Hall, which was a modest structure built on a sister's property, lined with plastic chairs and a small amplification system. We were all a bit giggly, considering our combined Spanish skills are about the equivalent of one sixth grade student. The brother leading the group assigned each of us with a local brother or sister, and sent each pair off in a different direction. We were to reconvene in 4 hours for lunch, which a different family prepares for the service group each week.
I was having a bit of a troublesome morning - the Spanish part of my brain was refusing to kick in, I dropped all my books in the mud, and I was experiencing unparalleled hunger. But I managed to put my fleshly weaknesses behind as every house we went to ended in what was more or less a Bible study. People would run inside to grab their own copy of the Bible and follow along with the scriptures.

I'm not going to lie, around 11 when my partner said she needed to head home to start making lunch for the service group, I was more than happy to lend a mouth. Er, a hand. I haven't cut hundreds of pound of vegetables on the RBC for nothing. Soup for 30? Coming right up.

Lalito was my assistant, or maybe I was his assistant, all I know is we bonded over a love of snapping green beans and Spiderman.

I've become excessively fond of outdoor kitchens. What more do you need than a giant pot, a giant spoon and some fire?

Preparing the sugar cane for an afternoon snack.

I sat with the sisters and shot the breeze until the rest of the group returned from service. I think we talked about chickens, and the weather. Because I'm focusing so hard on understanding what we're talking about, every conversation in Spanish is a victory. I can't imagine getting quite as excited talking about poultry and the climate in English, but I'm open minded.

My sweet little kitten, who I couldn't let go of. 

Lalito couldn't let go of her either.

Don't worry, I rescued her immediately after taking this picture. And don't worry Frodo, you haven't been replaced. Yet. Lunch was a great success. Soup was eaten, chess was played, group photos were taken, the bold brother on the bottom right tried to woo Bronnie.

I always enjoy these forays into "real" Mexico. It was a bit of a culture shock for Charlotte, since Puerto was all she had seen of the country so far. It's definitely life at it's simplest, but potentially life at it's happiest. It certainly worked out well for the family dogs, who got to dive into the leftovers.

For dessert, we had puppies. 

Oh, I'm sorry -- we held puppies. There was talk of late afternoon ministry, but we had a long journey back home, and were all a bit full of soup and español.

Muchacho, Amigo, and Jared, who got lost on his way to the discotheque.

Unwilling to reenact our taxi ride from Hades on the way home, we opted for a collectivo. A quarter of the cost and twice as fresh, we even picked up a few new friends along the way.

Well, she doesn't look too friendly, but she spent most of the ride home on Mike's lap, so, close enough.