KIVA.org...go, do, make a difference

Confession: I have meant to write about this organization for a long time now but, frankly, have been too much of a bum. But recently we have been talking about education in Mexico, inequality, and now neoindividualism in my Spanish grammar class and it has gotten me thinking yet again about how blessed I truly am.

First off, a rant. We are surrounded by need, though we don't often recognize it. And we can sit for days on end talking about the root causes of poverty, societal problems, and grand solutions to try and aleviate the suffering in the world, but at the end of the day, none of this is empowering to the average person. Rather we are overcome with the largeness and complexity of the problem that we feel anything we do will be nothing more than a feeble and eventually futile attempt. But each of us is fully-equipped to make a difference in the life of another human being. I was searching and searching to find a particular passage in the Bible that speaks to what I am trying to express, but didn't find it. But basically what it boils down to is, if you see a need and are able to do something about it, do it. Don't wait for tomorrow, don't wish the person well, but take action immediately. What reason have you to do anything but that? What is more urgent or important than serving and showing love to another?

Last year in my Development and Society in Mexico class, our professor introduced us to an organization based out of San Francisco called Kiva. I was instantly struck by the power, and still further potential, that this organization has. A brief synopsis: Kiva.org is a website through which individuals can give microloans of a minimum of $25 to individuals for their businesses around the world. Often these loans are for things such as buying more livestock or products for their store. Kiva partners with microfinance institutions in the countries in which they operate and these institutions oversee the loans. The loans are then repaid over a specified period of time. The default rate for Kiva loans is impressively low: only 1.4%. Take ten minutes to watch this video on YouTube of a report done with the creators of the organization and learn about some of the effects that these small loans have made in the lives of a few recipients in Africa.

Impressive Outcomes
Some of the outcomes may not seem enormous (there are no Cinderella stories), but when you stop and think about them, they can be revolutionary. For example, in the video you will hear the story of a man who can now afford to send his children to school. Think about it! His children will have the education that he likely did not receive and have the opportunity to lift themselves out of poverty, even if it is just a notch. And their children will have even more opportunities than they had. All because a few people gave this man $25.

Additionally, I would say that a majority of the loans go to women. In fact, microfinancing has its roots in providing opportunities to small and marginal farmers and poor women. Women in many countries around the world are still extremely oppressed, dependent on men who cannot or do not provide for them. Microloans are giving women opportunities to break free from this oppression and provide for themselves. I wish I could find the video for you all that our professor showed us in which one woman, I believe in India, was becoming politically active in her community and making incredible changes after being able to finally provide for herself. She didn't stop at just lifting her and her family up, but this one change in her life is impacting and improving the community around her.

And in a general sense, microloans are about empowering people. They not only empower the the recipient of the loan by not turning them into a charity-case, but also the giver of the loan by letting them make potentially life-changing differences in the lives of others. In another promo video I saw on YouTube one particular statement really struck me: Donations silence your conscience but loans change lives. As my Pastor Stover used to say, "Just stop and think about that."

Rebel Against Neoindividualism!
Sorry...I'm hyped-up on this article that I read (and for the most part, understood...in Spanish) on neoindividualism, consumerism, and the fragmented state of our society. But basically it was saying that we have reduced the value of a human being to their purchasing power in our society, to their ability of being a consumer, and if you aren't in the consumer-potential category, you are marginalized even further than you probably already are. We have become a society solely focused on our own desires, lacking social ties that create cohesion (and I don't mean just the U.S. mind you; this was written by a Mexican woman). Don't let that be you! Re-establish connections between yourself and other human beings, even if they live on the other side of the planet.

So, to sum up: go, do, make a difference.

Thanks for reading.

it's been a while...

I know, I know (Dad!)…it’s been a while since I posted. I don’t know why, but every time I sit down to write about my time here in Mexico this semester, I get stuck. Honestly, this semester has been much harder than the previous two, but I am acclimating slowly.

What I Am Doing
For those of you that I didn’t inform, I am back in Mexico for another semester. I have an internship with the International Programs (IP) office at the Tecnológico de Monterrey, the same university I attended last year through the CSU International Program. The IP office not only receives international students, but sends Mexican students abroad to countries all over the world. I work mostly with these students and Juan Carlos, who manages this program. It’s a lot of paperwork and emailing students, pleading for certain documents that I need to credit their classes abroad here at the Tec…but it is all in Spanish! I also do a fair amount of proofing of text in English or translating Spanish documents into English.

My Family
In an effort to not make this post too long (just for you, David) and so that I will actually get through it, I thought I would focus this post on my family here in Mexico.

I am living with a host family this semester (yay!) and thus have experienced every living situation offered to international students here: host family, dorms, and apartments off campus. A year ago I really wanted to live with a family, knowing that it is really the best way you can reinforce what you learn in the classroom, but a family with an accessible home was not available. Then after living with another American girl in an apartment last semester, I realized that part of what I loved about being in Mexico was being so independent in the respect that I didn’t have to report to anyone when I was going to be home and that no one was worrying about it (it’s OK Mom, I know that’s your job ;-). So then when I found out that I was going to be living with a host family, that liberty was again lessened. I wondered how I would integrate myself and if I would feel comfortable in their home. Natural concerns I imagine, but completely unnecessary.

Mely
My host mom’s name is Mely, or Imelda. She is the secretary of IP, so we became friends last year. She is an incredibly sweet, hardworking, and generous woman whose world is devoted to her family. She is also a fabulous cook! She comes from a family of 11 children, of which she is one of the youngest. Her mother lives very nearby our house (within walking distance) and at least one of the 11 are always there to spend time with their mother, as their father passed away just before I got here.

Olaf
My host dad is Olaf. He works at a clinic doing administrative work very nearby the house and just down the street from his son’s school and the house he grew up in with his 6 brothers and sisters. One thing I love about Olaf is that he is always happy and laughing. You can tell that he gets so much joy from being with his children and goofing around with them. He helps around the house a lot too. While Mely does all the cooking, Olaf does a majority of the housework, including the laundry and cleaning the bathrooms, and frequently washing the dishes. I try to help with the dishes and folding of laundry when I can find the opportunity, and their protests have lessened and been replaced with thank you.

Olafcito
Mely and Olaf’s oldest son is also named Olaf. He is thirteen and just hitting that age when he wants to be his own person, but just doesn’t know who that it is yet and is causing his parents quite a bit of concern. But he is a good kid and I have found a friend in him. We are kindred spirits in our love of music. He plays the guitar very well and learns by ear. He has already learned Layla, Stairway to Heaven, and Unfold by Jason Mraz since I’ve been here. He has made me his confidant and I try to encourage him to be someone worthy of his parents’ trust…let’s hope some of it soaks in.

Andrés
Andrés is the younger son and is 8 years old. He is a dear child with a tender heart. At the beginning he helped me a lot to feel at home here by wanting to play games with me every night. He likes to play with my hair too. :-) He wants to be a priest when he grows up and frequently pretends to be one around the house, giving communion to everyone. In spite of his sweetness, however, he is definitely the baby of the family and gets his feelings hurt easily and pouts the rest of the evening.

We live in a colonia (basically a community within the larger city) named Hercules. It is one of the oldest colonias in Querétaro and is absolutely beautiful. I don’t yet have photos of it, but want to take some soon. Both Mely and Olaf grew up in this colonia and a majority of their families live here. The community’s church is just around the corner from the house and the church bells warn me every morning at 6:30 (for the daily 7am mass) that I have been in bed too long. It is a community with a lot of roots and Mely tells me that even though I may not know everyone, they know who I am and are watching out for me.

For more photos of my home and other randomness, click here.

Anyhow, I am going to try to be more faithful in posting for ya’ll now that I have gotten past the first one. They may not be as frequent as they were in the beginning since my life here is pretty much as my life is in the US—go to work, come home, study some, and start over again. But these past 4 or 5 weeks have been quite an intense time of reflection for me, which is at times very hard, but good for me. Nevertheless, I covet your prayers as I continue on here and want you to know that I think of you all daily. Know that you are loved.

tengo tatuaje!!!

So I just wanted to show you all pictures of my new tattoo!!! I just got it yesterday afternoon and I really like it a lot. It says "Andar por la fe" which means "Walk by faith." I wanted to get it as a little reminder of my time here in Mexico, and since I can't walk physically, but can walk by faith (which this year was a leap), I thought it appropriate to get it on my foot. Well, that and I can't actually feel my feet so it was pain-free. haha! Lucky me!

just a link

I forgot to post the link to the rest of my pictures that I have posted on my Facebook page. Enjoy!

we are far too young and clever

First of all, 10 bonus points to the person who can tell me which song that line is from! :-)

So, long time no write, eh? There hasn't been too much going on here in Querétaro these days other than school and the such like. A few weeks back some friends and I did go to a Maná concert here in town and it was quite fantastic! I have somewhat rediscovered my love of concerts here in Mexico. Maná is, arguably, one of the most popular rock bands here in Mexico so there were a ton of people and everyone was very excited. I love the excitement of the crowds, especially with this concert since it was all in Spanish and I couldn't really sing along with the songs as I might normally if I was at a concert of someone more familiar. They fed my joy in being there and I loved watching everyone sing and dance, especially one group of guys of varying ages nearby that seemed to simply be enjoying each others company and singing, without the facade of machismo that may at other times restrain them.

¡CUBA!
The one big-deal thing of late is that I just got back a week ago from having spent a week in Cuba during our break for la Semana Santa or Holy Week (or as we Americans call it, Spring Break). It was quite incredible, though even as I am typing this I am wondering how I am going to organize my thoughts as they are still a bit of a jumble in my brain. Bear with me as I try to sort all of this out.

One of the first things that may have popped into your mind may be, "How did you manage that with the embargo between the US and Cuba?" Well, I have actually had about five American friends here that have made the trip, so the way had been paved for us already.

Originally the plan was for my roommate, Bridgid, and I to go and then our friend Darcy said she was interested too. We searched online but ran into a wall when we wanted to buy airline tickets. We ended up going to a travel agent and a woman named Blanca hooked us up. Unfortunately, due to some previous plans that Bridgid had made for the break, taking a week-long trip to Cuba was out of the question (and yet our only option), so Darcy and I went together.

We were assured by many people that they would not stamp our passports as we arrived in Cuba, which was really our biggest concern. We learned just before we left Cuba from a Mexican woman we met that they don't stamp anyone's passport because, suppose a Mexican that went and had a Cuban stamp in their passport, they would not be permitted to go to the US. Therefore, we never had any reason for concern.

Varadero
We flew into Varadero and spent about 2.5 days in this beautiful beach-town. Truthfully, we didn't see much of this town outside of what we saw through the bus windows. Everything at our hotel was included in what we paid for the package (room, food, drinks, recreation, etc.) so we didn't venture our even once. This was what we saw from the back patio of the hotel. Would you leave that if you only had about 2 days? I didn't think so.

Therefore, we spent most of our time relaxing on the beach, reading, fingering the soft, perfect, white sand, enjoying the sunny, humid, and breezy weather, eating at what turned out to be a pretty lousy buffet, and sipping mojitos. :-) Such luxury that I don't ever recall having for such a prolonged period of time before.

The second day we got a life vest for me and went into the water. This was actually the first time I could recall ever going into the ocean without being held by one of my parents (clearly it has been a while). The water was heavenly. It felt the temperature of lukewarm bathwater and was so clear. Darcy discovered the day before that there really wasn't much to be seen by way of fishes, just white sand and the occasional seaweed or rock.

I was quite apprehensive about going in the water, in spite of wearing my life vest, and was soon knocked head on by the waves and felt the sting of salt water in my throat and nose. After recovering I was hit again, but Darcy was always nearby to drag me up if I needed it. I didn't know the technique of trying to push yourself up over the wave as it came toward you. And once learning of this, it was still rather difficult. Thus, I ended up holding onto Darcy for the rest of my time in the water. But it was still great to be out there, feeling the waves washing over us and losing any sense of where we were, if we had moved or if we were simply standing still.

La Habana
After our time in Varadero we were picked up and bussed to La Habana for the remainder of our trip. We spent about 3.5 days there and pretty much spent our time exploring places we had found online to check out or just simply wandering.

We tried several times to take a tour a tobacco factory, but they had wacky hours. We went to a few museums (The Museum of the Revolution, Habana Club Rum Factory, The Museum of Arts, and a small firefighter museum), walked around plazas, the Capitol, went to a nice market, and took a tour of the city where we saw a lot of government propaganda.

We even found a little alley way that was pretty much a tiny Chinatown. We decided to have dinner there one night and chose the restaurant that actually had Chinese people sitting there. It was pretty good, though I was a little put off by the egg in my hot and sour soup (we determined that Cubans love eggs, especially hard-boiled). And a special little bonus: our waiter was GORGEOUS! Darcy got a picture of him on the sly for me. It was a shame he didn't know I was his future love.

And a side note: while our waiter was definitely the winner in my book for Most-Gorgeous-Cuban, he was not an anomaly. Cubans are a particularly stunning group of people made up of every color: black, white, brown...swoon. :-)

One of my favorite parts that we went to was called the Callejon de Hamel. We had noted it as a place to go before leaving but had gotten the impression that it was the market. But during our tour, our guide stopped in front of this obscure little alley in the midst of some neighborhoods that we probably would not have explored otherwise.

When we went back and went in through the gate, a man was immediately at Darcy's side asking her if she spoke English. Our guards went up because we knew we would get hassled, but eventually we stopped to talk to him. He told us that the Callejon de Hamel existed to preserve AfroCuban culture and talked about some of the things they had and did there. Eventually he did try to sell us a CD which we respectfully declined until after we heard the performance that was going to start in just a few moments. The music was fantastic and lively but we left after a few songs, and upon our exit I met the self-proclaimed top rap and hip-hop artist in La Habana trying to sell me his CD as well. haha!

Reflexions
OK, so this is the hard part and probably why it has taken me so long to get this up. There was a lot to think about while we were there and once we came back.

On My Awareness
I noticed that my awareness of what there was to see and what was around me grew every day that we explored La Habana. Most of you know that I am quite an oblivious person, and as a whole, I kind-of like this feature in myself. I believe that it at times allows me to see things and people through less of a fearful lens, though this is not to say that I am without making any value judgements. I'm not sure if any of this makes sense.

Anyhow, our first afternoon in La Habana we just walked around some neighborhoods near our hotel and then had dinner in a little restaurant on the way back. I marvelled at the architecture of the buildings and the old cars; it seemed to be a city frozen in the 50s and 60s, the time just before the Revolution. As our time there went on, I started to notice that most of the buildings, excepting those in tourist areas or government buildings, were crumbling--especially those on the road against the ocean (which we were told was because when there is any kind of large storm they are hammered by the sea water)--and there was rubble and trash everywhere. They were still beautiful structures, but the realization that these were the homes of people, many without windows that I am sure had been flooded annually, was powerful. I also started to notice that the city had a certain mixed smell of mildew, sweat, and exhaust.

Additionally, I originally was simply fascinated by the beauty of people in general. One thing that I can say is that I hardly saw anyone with insufficient clothing (and I was supremely happy to find that people were a bit less modest in their clothing than Mexico and I didn't feel so scandalous showing my shoulders to keep cool in the heat). But then I noticed that I didn't see many small children or babies. I don't know that this is a significant observation, but it was something that struck me.

The basic point is that it was interesting to be in one spot for so long to be able to see the development of awareness as a tourist. I could see the same things one day and view them in a completely different way the next time.

On Life in Cuba
We didn't get to talk to a ton of Cubans, but we did talk to a few. One reason for not talking to a lot of local people is that it is illegal for them to talk to foreigners (one man was actually arrested for talking to our friends when they were there in February), unless they are serving in the tourist industry, which is the biggest industry in the country. It made me wonder what the non-tourist parts of Cuba were like.

Also, it is illegal for Cubans to leave Cuba for any reason at all (travel, study, etc.) unless they get special permission to leave for work. (Oh, and on speaking to Cubans, I realized how accustomed to the Mexican accent I had become. Their accent is a bit similar to people from Spain in that their "s" sound would be defined by English-speakers as lisp-y. It was quite a challenge to understand them.)

We asked a couple people about the medical care in Cuba. We got a bit of conflicting information, so I am not quite sure what to think yet. One of our taxi drivers told us that it was excellent, but a man that we met on the street told us that it was very substandard. He told us that the doctors that serve Cubans are the medical students, and that once they have graduated, they serve tourists or leave the country.

Along with medical care, education is free, even through university, and the government also gives the people food. We spoke with a Mexican woman just before leaving and she said that someone told her how much food they receive, it it is simply minuscule and not enough to live on.

When we were in the market, and other places too, we had people asking us for things such as soap or toothpaste instead of money. We thought this was rather odd, but found out later that the government does not supply this type of stuff to the people and that soap could take up about 40% of their monthly income (which is only about $10).

On the Cuban Response to Us
We weren't sure at first if we should tell people that we were American or try to pass for Canadian, but we tried it out. Every response that we got (for this is a very popular question) was positive and one man told us that he loved the US. The first man that we met when we got to our hotel in Varadero (he was actually the electrician but also did odd jobs and helped us with our luggage) said that we were the first Americans that he had spoken to and that he would remember us for the rest of his life. He was a very sweet man and spoke English really well even though he had never taken formal classes.

While our response among people on the street was good, I think I may have still been a bit hesitant to reveal that I was American to a government official or police officer.

On the Presence of the Government
Governmental presence was overwhelming in Cuba. At first I was fascinated by all of the propaganda and images of Ché all over the place (and seriously, it is everywhere), but then realized that it almost seemed to be a form of indoctrination rather than a show of patriotism.

In addition to quotes from Fidel and Ché, there was anti-US stuff prominently displayed as well. This included a large monument with 138 flags that basically said "In your face, US" and billboards about five Cubans that are currently imprisoned in Florida, though I don't really know the story yet...something about terrorism. There was one such billboard close to the hotel that actually had a government guard standing underneath it all day long.

At the beginning, I didn't notice much of a physical police or government official presence (part of the oblivion) except for around governmental buildings, in which case they had guards about every 20 feet or so. But then later I noticed people everywhere, often in clumps or 2 or 3 men on a corner. I cannot imagine how that must effect the Cubans on a daily basis.

On Socialism/Communism
I was so anxious to know what people thought of socialism and Fidel and what the deal was with Fidel's brother. We were hesitant to ask out-right though. But mostly I was excited to see a socialist country in action.

I am not anti-socialism...at least in theory. I like the idea of living in a society where I may sacrifice more personally to have more equality among all of the members of society. One of our taxi drivers was reading a book that was an interview with Fidel. Our driver said that he liked the ideas of socialism, but that it never seems to work out in practice. I am along these lines in my thinking. Having seen Cuba in person, it seems more like a dictatorship rather than a place that allows for more freedom because of an equal playing field.

Additionally, it seems to me that the government, while providing for the people on some level, is not giving the best they have to offer, but simply the leftovers from the tourists, of which I was one. The spirit of working toward the best for your community that one might assume would be integral to socialist ideals seems to be lost because of the second-class treatment that the people receive.

I was also curious about religion in Cuba and while we saw a few churches, there did not seem to be much religious expression (however I am used to Mexico now where several times a day you hear either church bells or fireworks set off by churches). I recalled while we were there that Karl Marx said that "religion is the opiate of the people" and that when the Soviet Union was communist, the churches were shut down and fenced off. As one of my professors explained it, Marx felt that religion created a sense of contentment in people that helped them to deal with the suffering in life instead of revolting against it. And since communism is based on revolution, he was decidedly against religion.

A bit of Marx: "Religion is the sigh of the oppressed creature, the heart of a heartless world, and the soul of soulless conditions. It is the opium of the people. The abolition of religion as the illusory happiness of the people is the demand for their real happiness. To call on them to give up their illusions about their condition is to call on them to give up a condition that requires illusions. The criticism of religion is, therefore, in embryo, the criticism of that vale of tears of which religion is the halo."

On Coming Back
This was the first trip that I have ever taken (aside from short weekend trips here in Mexico) where instead of going home to Modesto, I came home to Querétaro. Instead of coming home to my mom and dad, I came home to an empty apartment. It felt different and comfortable all at the same time to be anxious to get "home" and relax in a place that is still a combination of familiar and foreign.

Also, after having seen Cuba, it made me appreciate Mexico more in terms of the beauty and cleanliness, especially in Querétaro.

All of this (because it seems that I have ended on a bad note) is not to say that I didn't enjoy Cuba. I did immensely! The people were all very nice and there was incredible beauty, but an overwhelming sense of oppression of the people and complete lack of liberty for self-expression created a clearer image in my mind of the realities of socialism, and perhaps the human condition and our ability to "love your neighbor as yourself."

segundo semestre

ON MY TIME AT HOME
I know it has been a while since I have written anything. My roommate, Bridgid, and I still do not have the internet at our apartment, so my time online has been limited. We are still doing battle with Telmex (which pretty much has a monopoly on such services around here and whose owner recently became the richest man in the world) about getting the internet installed, which we ordered almost 4 weeks ago. It is getting very frustrating, but we are determined to have success this week…even if we have to bring our lawyer into it. Anyhow, enough about that.

First a few thoughts on my amazing vacation before going into my time back here in Querétaro. I was blessed with being able to spend five weeks at home without the worry of a job, school, or any such things over December and the first part of January. At first I thought I might try to find a job volunteering at a Spanish-language radio station or someplace, but I enjoyed indulging in time with my family and friends too much. Thank you to all that made those five weeks so incredible and reviving for this second semester in Mexico.

On being an auntie
I had the opportunity to see my little niece, Reagan, almost every single day that I was home. She is such an absolute doll, and I know that I am quite biased, but aren’t we all? For those of you know that know me well, you know that while I like babies, I never seem to connect well with them. That trend continued for a bit with Reagan too, but I think after a couple weeks a couple things happened: 1) she started to recognize me, and 2) I started to loosen up. I think that there is a special thing that happens when you know you are related (at least for me) to someone that you don’t even know yet. It is almost as if I felt a certain entitlement to a relationship and with that came a level of comfort I hadn’t yet experienced. Being an auntie is incredible, so I can’t even imagine what it may be like to be a mother.

ON COMING BACK TO QUERÉTARO
After these five glorious weeks back home, it was very hard to leave. I wasn’t at all excited to come back until I was actually in my apartment finally. In July, when I first came, it was easier to leave home because of the excitement of the unknown, but harder to stay in Querétaro because of that very same reason. In January, it was harder to leave home because I knew how hard it was to be away from family and friends, but easier to come back to Querétaro because I knew what the challenges were and that I had already overcome them for one semester and could do it again. Now that I am here, naturally I miss home, but I am so happy to be back here in my second hometown in Mexico.

I think it has been about four weeks or so that I have been back and it has already been great. The journey back to Querétaro was long, but I was proud that I did it all on my own. It was my first time traveling solo in Mexico.

On Spanish and my classes
One interesting thing upon returning to Mexico was that Spanish, at least in the beginning, seemed so much clearer. Suddenly I could understand what was being said to me (not perfectly, but better). It was magical. It was as if I needed the five week break to soak it all in, let the frustration melt away, and come back a much more relaxed version of myself.

Unfortunately, this only lasted about a week. Then it was back the mental block of realizing just how much farther I have yet to go.

Over the holidays I had studied some of the upcoming themes that I would be studying in my next grammar class (which would be Intermediate 1) in the hopes that I would be able to skip a level of Spanish upon my return. While still in California I was still psyched about advancing, but in my first few days of classes the fear set in that I may not be able to do it. I had an appointment for Tuesday afternoon to take a placement exam and see if my skill level was up to par. I also needed to have a conversation with one of the professors and academic counselors here. In the meantime, I asked the advice of my professor from last semester. He was supportive, but seemed a bit hesitant to tell me to go for it.

I took the exam and it placed me in Advanced 1, which would be skipping two levels…but I was clearly not going to do that. But it did give me a little boost. I spoke with Vanessa, and she too was encouraging but told me to think about pretty much everything I had already been agonizing over for 2 days. The next day I spoke with my professor at the time and she told me, “Go for it.” That’s all I needed to hear. I made it to the last day of Intermediate 2 of the first week and so far so good. I am still rather intimidated in the class, but each day it gets better.

My other classes consist of a Spanish communication skills class, Spanish composition, and an intro to literature class in Spanish. I like them all, except I am at the same time intimidated and bored in my literature class. I’m hoping that at least my boredom will pass once we are done studying poetry.

PRIMER VIAJE
Last weekend we had an extra day because Monday was a holiday (I’m not sure what it was all about, but I had a free day so I was happy). We decided to take advantage of the time and take a trip to the state of Michoacan. Our group consisted of Bridgid, the two Darcys, and I. We rented a car and headed out Friday night. Our goal was to make it to a butterfly sanctuary in the southern part of the state.

Each year in October and November, millions upon millions of monarch butterflies fly down from Canada and the US and stop in Michoacan for the winter. There are several sanctuaries dedicated to protecting them until they leave for their journey back north in March.

We left around 10:30 at night because Bridgid’s guide book said it would take about 10 hours to drive there and we knew we would get lost. And indeed we got lost in every city that we went through. However, we still got there in less than 6 hours. We didn’t think it would be a problem finding a hotel once we go there, but we were wrong. Angangueo is a small town that thrives off the tourism from the butterflies. Everyone was asleep so after searching for a while, we decided to find a place to park and just sleep in the car. Fortunately we had brought blankets and pillows. We “slept” for about 3 hours and woke up in a chilly car with fogged-up windows.

After trying a couple of places that were either booked or inaccessible, we found a small little hotel with a charming owner. She loved to talk to us, check in on us, and when we didn’t have power in the morning and asked her for a candle, she came in a told us a little parable about a father that asked his two sons to fill a room with only 10 centavos. The first son said it was impossible and gave up, but the second son thought for a while and then went and bought some candles and placed them up high in the room so as to fill it completely with light. She was a total diva who wore a fur hat and had a picture of herself when younger hanging up in the room we rented. If only we had gotten a picture of her!

We encountered a few guys to guide us to the sanctuary later that morning. It was about a half hour bumpy drive up into the mountains, in which Bridgid and Darcy had to ride in the back of the truck. Before going up to the butterflies we had something to eat and I had the best quesadillas I had ever had, made with crunchy blue tortillas and Oaxaca cheese (I believe).

Then we were on our way. It quickly became clear that I wouldn’t be able to take my wheelchair in, so a couple of the girls had someone bring a horse down for me. A few people helped me on and we started up the first hill. I was terrified and felt very unsteady. The man guiding me stopped and waited for the girls. While we waited he told me that it was going to get worse and that it is very dangerous to go down the hills on a horse. Therefore, the girls brought my chair to me because I couldn’t even make it down that hill. I was so thankful to get off that horse, but very disappointed that I wouldn’t be able to see the butterflies.

The girls went on ahead without me and came back in about an hour and a half I think. In the meantime I sat in a small field and watched some children chase the butterflies that were there, spoke with a man that had worked there for decades, watched as quite a few butterflies came to drink from the little nearby stream, and practically fell asleep sitting up.

Initially the girls were going to downplay how amazing the butterflies were, but eventually told me that it was one of the most incredible things they had ever seen. They hiked quite a way and finally came to a small grove of about 4 or 5 trees where all the butterflies resided. They were piled on the trees, weighing down the branches with their masses, and when the sun hit them, they fluttered about until a cloud covered the sun again. They said that it looked like the grove was golden.

We had a relaxed night on the town after resting and cleaning up in the hotel and were on the road again by about 9am the next morning. We headed for the northern part of the state to a place called Los Azufres, a beautiful area with hundreds of natural hot springs sprinkled throughout. We found a sweet little place to stay that reminded us of the camp from Dirty Dancing, with little buildings for lodging, a restaurant on site, and a small farm. On our way there we had found a place with a mud pit, a natural hot pool, and natural steam rooms. Thus, we all changed into our bathing suits and headed out again. The girls went and rubbed mud all over them while I watched and then went to soak in the hot pool…again while I watched. It all smelled of sulfur. Then one of the Darcys and I went and tried out the ladies steam room. We tried it at first for about 2 minutes and then went in for probably another 7 or 8 minutes. It was quite an interesting feeling being in this dark, naturally hot cave and then emerging into a nice cool cave, only separated by a tarp. It was rather refreshing.

After we had had our fill of the sulfur amenities we went to a nearby lake, which we determined we weren’t permitted to swim in, and soaked in the built-in pools right next to the lake. Afterward we cleaned up and found what appeared to be a brand new restaurant where I had some very yummy fish, served with head, fins, and all.

That was pretty much our trip. We had a restful morning before heading home and made it back by early afternoon to Querétaro. For more pictures, go here.

Anyhow, I think this has been long enough! I love and miss you all and hope you are all well!