To San Miguel, With Love

The pack diverged for the weekend. We have now reconvened, and the universe is at peace once again. Nick, Zoe, and Bob adventured in San Miguel and ventured to Guanajuato, where they painted the town red, and Bobby did some light gardening.
Actually, they went there with Cher and Steve, who had a public talk in Guanajuato English. Their visit intersected with a music festival, much to the boys' delight.
There are underground passageways all over the city. It's not creepy or anything, except for the occasional abominable caveman.
Overall, they said Guanajuato was amazing. But what do they know? They are total abombinable cavemen. I'm just jealous. (There was no shortage of music back home either. Nils, our friend in the congregation, has a seriously sweet band called The Sharpies. Motto: All Rock, No Roll. He had a show the night before, rocked the entire town, and rocked the camera so hard that if I tried to upload the pictures, the computer would explode. Check them out: The Sharpies)

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The next day, the Nahuatl hosted a get together in our honor. A basketball tournament, followed by a feast. Tara and I were trying to get back from Puebla to no avail, so the three amigos had to carry the torch for us.
Zoe, one of the guests of honor, had expressed to them her great liking of corn. And therefore, a feast of corn it was to be!
Corn, corn, corn for all. Corn for big! Corn for small.
Corn was it. Corn was all. I'd love to tell you more about it but I can't. Because I wasn't there. I'm totally jealous.
Nick came back with this picture of him and his self-described "Grandpa". He has adopted so many new family members on this trip, I don't even ask questions any more.
One of the sisters in the Nahuatl congregation is pregnant. If she has a baby boy, she is going to name him Roberto Nicolas, after our companions of the same name. Perhaps one of us will name our offspring Huitepol, to return the favor.

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Somewhere in a parallel universe, Tara and I hit the road to Puebla. Bus travel is suprisingly comfortable. If you have the right frame of mind, and use the stale ham sandwich they serve as a pillow, you can travel in relative luxury.
Speaking of luxury, the hotel sent a car for us, complete with laminated sign! I've never felt so prestigous. The sign was for Mrs. Chelsea Sexton, so they either know something I don't, or they were very optimistic about the odds of me wedding someone on the way over from Mexico City. There are mad amounts of VW Beetles in Mexico. Accordingly, there has been an ongoing game of Slug Bug between various parties. In honor of this, we captured the most radiant Volkswagon on the road to our hotel. Blinding, radiant pink. You know that lady in pink on the corner was lusting after it at that very moment.
We stayed in San Pedro Cholula. The hotel was gorgeous. The grounds were fabulous, and the library vast.
We had grand plans to explore the town, to view the local pyramids, and to read every book in the library. Logically, instead, we stayed in, jumped on the bed, ordered room service, and watched Bollywood movies.

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The next day, we enjoyed the 2009-2010 Oaxaca English Special Assembly Day and catching up with old and new friends. The time left is certainly reduced, not only for this system of things, but our time in Mexico as well.
Friends from the Puerto Escondido Congregation. When we visited, they were only a group. They were announced as a congregation at the assembly.
We frolicked around the enchanted gardens of Puebla that night, eating crepes and laughing at a future day. We deemed our weekend a success.

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We converged today for one last day of delights and a final Theocratic Ministry School/Service Meeting. Tara busted out an awesome #3 Talk, and we all lingered in the Kingdom Hall until we had to take the lingering elsewhere.
Bob, Nick, and Nils (from The Sharpies), in his plebian clothes.
Dave & Jodette D., long standing pillars of the SMdA Congregation.
We all lingered until the deep hours of the night, no one really wanting to say goodbye. Now, we're going home. Well, we're taking a leisurely, scenic route; the two week long route, including Mexico City, Mexico Bethel, Palenque, and La Paz.San Miguel and our friends within...we love you always!
Hasta luego...gracias.

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.

Let There Be Light

In honor of our week without power, Bobby decided to scribe our tale - in the style of the Hebrew Scriptures. The following is a factually accurate, though stylized, version of what really happened - with input from all of us, and a lot of help from our weekly Bible Reading. We collectively present the following.

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חשמל
THE BOOK OF CHASHMAL

(Hebrew for Electricity)

This is an accounting of the peoples of our land, when they came to have a knowledge and a tendency toward darkness and a wanting of light. This is our telling of a dark time for the land separated from light. For a time, time, and a half of times darkness enveloped the likeness of our eyes. The tribes of Sexton-ma'al-shaler-hash'baaz, the tribes of Leitchozite, and the tribes of Pierc'o'sheph went about wandering in the land of darkness for a multitude of days. Their name came to be know as the great tribe of Pier'leitch'ton. And the surrounding peoples know them as Pier'leitch'ton, the people of lightlessness. It came to be a place desirous of a good thing, and of light. And the place they camped was called San'Miguel-de-Israel, which means, "Those Without Light," and to this day it is known as such.

The tribe of Pier'leitch'ton began to be a people discontent with their provisions from the land. The people began to cry out, "Why have we been an accursed people?" and went on to say "I wish we were back in the land of our forefathers, Egyptifornia." The chieftain Niko'lish proclaimed, "Cursed be the Pharaoh Aeromexico that brought us into this land of darkness!" The people began to murmur against the land, and they were a contemptible people, as they were people accustomed to light.

This is the condition of the people. Husband will leave wife, brother his sister, and friend will rise up against friend. They will eat one another up with the anger of a thousand thousand suns. No one will be safe. For these things will happen when a man has no light to guide his way.

The murmuring brought with it a plague. A plague there began, there was a plaguing and the peoples were plagued. Amongst the camped Pier'leitch'tonites there came a turmoil that was like nothing seen before, nor ever seen again. There occurred a waring within their inward parts, and they began to forget what it was like to know light. Upon the high plains, the mid-valley and the low plains, all the tribes had forgotten what their prosperous city once was.

Then the land began to stink with the fury of eight dozen she-asses and one hundred camels, for the aquifers laid dry, and the insects laid claim to their place of inhabitance. And the tabernacling people looked to their neighboring counties for sustenance, as they had lost all hope in the law of the land. The Pier'leitch'tonites turned to the older men and the secular authorities and yet no one was able to offer sanctuary. For there had been no light for many moons, and as such, there was a great drought.

They took to higher ground, and a thunderous noise was heard from the heavens. With a tremendous display of light, a trickle of water appeared for these people. As the downpour began, the counsel of the chieftain Niko'lish saw the wisdom in applying the offerings of foreign skies to the bathing of their bodies, and the sanitary disposal of their excretions.

Then there arose among their peoples a prophetess to guide them, her name was Zoe'rida from the tribe of Leitchozites. She declared, "I shall go up to the land of my forefathers and ask for guidance to our plaguing." Zoe'rida did just so. She brought with her the chieftain Niko'lish, and a young servant boy, Be'pizal, from the tribe of Pierc'o'shep (many know him as the great rounded one). They traveled great distances in search of an answer. Then the answer was revealed to Zoe'rida.

Zoe'rida, with her eyes of light, saw the cure of the tribes plague in an alien peasant boy, from the land of Caracol, and his name was Juan, from the tribe of Juanito. She asked, "Do you know why we have come here?" Juan replied, "Who are you, and where are you coming from?" She answered him, and implored, "How does one regain the light from the heavens?" Juan then looked toward the heavens and told the travelers this; "You have to take out the plastic piece from the electrical box."

The travelers began to praise him in the streets, and in the broad ways, thanking him six, yes seven, times. The scouts from a distant land hurried to tell the peoples of Pier'leitch'ton the words of Juan. The people of the land listened to the voice of Juan, and they saw that it was very good. From that day onward, the tribes were united in praise and celebration under that which comes from the lamp.