Mexico Trip
My friends just had one thing to say to me when I told them I would be spending the spring break of my freshmen year in Mexico with my youth ministry group. Some would ask what exactly I was planning to do while others would ask why, but the advice was always the same. Instead of all the cultural or economic information that we could have exchanged, they simply warned me about the water. I arrived in Ensenada, Mexico with only a vague idea of what I was really getting into. The cultural orientation was soon over. The sombreros were purchased, and we were on our way to our village. Our Village could have easily been named for the nearly unbearable daily high temperatures, but the heat was only one of our early surprises. As we spent the time together in the village, many things became apparent. One aspect that could not be ignored was the heavy poverty of the villagers. We were expecting lower living standards, but nothing compared to what we encountered. They lived in one or two room shacks that were generously called houses. The roofs of tin kept the rain out the majority of the time. A fierce storm came through on our third day and left three houses topless. The outhouses were constructed of even more flimsy ma
Little Newspapers and magazines, or even regular mail for that matter, were delivered. A little economic figuring demonstrates to the farmers that they are much better off producing a product with a higher worth, such as marijuana, despite the risks. The biggest happenings in the village are the dances and other festivals that the people share. If someone is home alone or a villager falls ill, the neighbors are sure to bring beans and tortillas and offer to do the dishes and housework for a few days. They know which bugs to stay away from and which berries and cacti are safe to eat. The only school in the village offered classes up to sixth grade but many of the boys never made it that far, and few of the students went much beyond that because of the difficulty of getting to school without a suitable mean of transportation. I now know that I can complain and worry, or I can just let life be and enjoy it. My new friends in Mexico may not know much about calculus, but they know about the earth. Yet it seems like the Mexicans are the only ones who realize it. The people of Ensenada can't forget the United States. One of the people in our group pointed out that if something catastrophic were to occur in the world, peoplelike these villagers might be the only ones to survive because of what the know about the earth. We soon learned that corn and cattle were not the only means of subsistence for many of the farmers. There is definitely a tendency toward stronger families or groups in Ensenada than in America. I may not have become as fluent in Spanish as I had hoped, but I gained an entire country's understanding of life. Despite what the folks in Roseville, California said, some of us did drink the water.
Common topics in this essay:
Ensenada Mexico,
Little Newspapers,
North America,
Ensenada America,
Mexico Mexicans,
,
Drugs Cultures,
Roseville California,
OJ Simpson,
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