We got to spend last Sat. afternoon with some of our new Mexican friends. Whenever I say that it sounds really ignorant & biased, but they really are Mexicans! One of Dave's Mexican co-workers is in MI on a business trip, just like Dave, and another one is coming soon. And, there's a Mexican Nissan employee who is here for 2 years, with his new wife. They're basically living the opposite of us - they're from Mexico on a 2-yr. business trip to the US. Cecilia is really struggling with the same concerns I had about going to Mexico: she had to quit her job to come here, and now she is really bored and really struggling with the language and really missing her friends & family back home. It felt good to know that my concerns aren't really all that weird!
We took them out for Mediterranean food, a very local specialty. They loved falafel & hummus & tabbouleh & shish kafta, even if they couldn't pronounce any of it :) We have really looked for Mediterranean food in Toluca, but the only place we can find it is at Costco ;) really wild!
Cecilia loved the lilac flowers. Lilacs are totally local; there aren't any in Mexico. They were out in full force this weekend, and she was ready to take some home with he
BTW - my Spanish name when I was in high school Spanish was Cecilia. Ah, the irony.
Thursday, May 15, 2008
Tuesday, May 6, 2008
Jesus on a Bicycle
I can't ride a bike. Which is really embarrassing for two reasons:
1. Papa taught me how to ride. We had a really great dad&daughter moment when I was in kindergarten & I learned how to ride a super cool green bike with streamers, which I continued to ride until I was about 8.
2. Everyone can ride a bike.
Even though I hadn't rode in years, I kind of assumed I could always just pick up a bike and start riding again. That's where the phrase "just like riding a bicycle" comes from right? So imagine my surprise, at 21, when a friend & I rent bikes in Rome to visit the Vatican. We had barely started when I ran into a cafe table, crashing the glasses & dumping a carafe of wine! In a matter of minutes I had ran into a nun, set off a BMW car alarm, run into a brick wall, and nearly fell into a sewer ditch before we realized that we needed to take the bikes back. :) How embarrassing!
Now that we live in Ann Arbor, lots of people ride bikes. In fact, I don't think I can have kids until & unless I'm prepared to ride around with them to pick up ice cream or Starbucks or something. So now I want to re-learn. Just in case I ever need to get somewhere, and all that's available is a bicycle!
In some ways, our Christian faith can be like riding a bike. We do it as a kid & then put it on a shelf somewhere, fully intending to pick it up whenever we're desperate or when we have kids ourselves. It never really occurs to us that faith is something we do, something we practice, something we need to keep doing in order to keep knowing how to do it!
Then I found this story on http://www.activatedministries.org/activated/47.554:
When I met Jesus, life became rather like a bike ride. It was a tandem bike; I rode in the front and steered, and Jesus was in the rear seat, helping to pedal.
I don't remember just when it happened, but Jesus suggested we change places. Life hasn't been the same since. Jesus makes the ride so exciting!
When I had control, I knew the way. It was safe and predictable, but rather boring--always the shortest distance between two points. But when Jesus got in the driver's seat, He knew delightful "long cuts" up mountain roads and down again at breakneck speeds. It was all I could do to hold on!
I didn't want to question His judgment, but once I couldn't help myself. "Don't You think we should slow down just a little? I'm scared." He turned and smiled and touched my hand and said, "It's okay. Pedal."
Sometimes I got worried and anxious and asked, "Where are You taking me?"
I am learning to not worry or want to get back in control, but just to relax and enjoy the view.
"It's a surprise," He would say with a laugh. Gradually I learned to trust. I forgot my boring life and entered the adventure.
He took me to meet people with gifts that I needed--gifts of love, healing, acceptance, joy. They gave me their gifts to take on my journey--our journey, my Lord's and mine--and we were off again. He said, "Give the gifts away." So I did, to other people we met. But the strangest thing happened. I found that the more of those things I gave away, the more I had for myself and to give to other people we met along the way. And still our load was light.
At first I didn't trust Jesus to be in control of my life. I thought He would wreck it. But He knows the bike's capabilities and limits, and all sorts of tricks. He knows how to take sharp corners at high speeds, make the bike "jump" to clear rocks in our way, and He can even make it fly when the road disappears beneath us.
I am learning to not worry or want to get back in control, but just to relax and enjoy the view, the cool breeze on my face, and the delightful company of my constant companion, Jesus.
I still get tired sometimes because it is a long, hard ride, but Jesus just smiles and says, "Pedal."
I want to be in the front of the bike, listening to Jesus' whispered directions from the back. But a Christian life isn't like that. My life is more like a wild ride on the back of the bike. I am so thankful for the journey so far.
As I travel to Mexico for the next part of the bike ride, I will miss those whom I am riding with now. But I am looking forward to new people I will meet.
1. Papa taught me how to ride. We had a really great dad&daughter moment when I was in kindergarten & I learned how to ride a super cool green bike with streamers, which I continued to ride until I was about 8.
2. Everyone can ride a bike.
Even though I hadn't rode in years, I kind of assumed I could always just pick up a bike and start riding again. That's where the phrase "just like riding a bicycle" comes from right? So imagine my surprise, at 21, when a friend & I rent bikes in Rome to visit the Vatican. We had barely started when I ran into a cafe table, crashing the glasses & dumping a carafe of wine! In a matter of minutes I had ran into a nun, set off a BMW car alarm, run into a brick wall, and nearly fell into a sewer ditch before we realized that we needed to take the bikes back. :) How embarrassing!
Now that we live in Ann Arbor, lots of people ride bikes. In fact, I don't think I can have kids until & unless I'm prepared to ride around with them to pick up ice cream or Starbucks or something. So now I want to re-learn. Just in case I ever need to get somewhere, and all that's available is a bicycle!
In some ways, our Christian faith can be like riding a bike. We do it as a kid & then put it on a shelf somewhere, fully intending to pick it up whenever we're desperate or when we have kids ourselves. It never really occurs to us that faith is something we do, something we practice, something we need to keep doing in order to keep knowing how to do it!
Then I found this story on http://www.activatedministries.org/activated/47.554:
When I met Jesus, life became rather like a bike ride. It was a tandem bike; I rode in the front and steered, and Jesus was in the rear seat, helping to pedal.
I don't remember just when it happened, but Jesus suggested we change places. Life hasn't been the same since. Jesus makes the ride so exciting!
When I had control, I knew the way. It was safe and predictable, but rather boring--always the shortest distance between two points. But when Jesus got in the driver's seat, He knew delightful "long cuts" up mountain roads and down again at breakneck speeds. It was all I could do to hold on!
I didn't want to question His judgment, but once I couldn't help myself. "Don't You think we should slow down just a little? I'm scared." He turned and smiled and touched my hand and said, "It's okay. Pedal."
Sometimes I got worried and anxious and asked, "Where are You taking me?"
I am learning to not worry or want to get back in control, but just to relax and enjoy the view.
"It's a surprise," He would say with a laugh. Gradually I learned to trust. I forgot my boring life and entered the adventure.
He took me to meet people with gifts that I needed--gifts of love, healing, acceptance, joy. They gave me their gifts to take on my journey--our journey, my Lord's and mine--and we were off again. He said, "Give the gifts away." So I did, to other people we met. But the strangest thing happened. I found that the more of those things I gave away, the more I had for myself and to give to other people we met along the way. And still our load was light.
At first I didn't trust Jesus to be in control of my life. I thought He would wreck it. But He knows the bike's capabilities and limits, and all sorts of tricks. He knows how to take sharp corners at high speeds, make the bike "jump" to clear rocks in our way, and He can even make it fly when the road disappears beneath us.
I am learning to not worry or want to get back in control, but just to relax and enjoy the view, the cool breeze on my face, and the delightful company of my constant companion, Jesus.
I still get tired sometimes because it is a long, hard ride, but Jesus just smiles and says, "Pedal."
I want to be in the front of the bike, listening to Jesus' whispered directions from the back. But a Christian life isn't like that. My life is more like a wild ride on the back of the bike. I am so thankful for the journey so far.
As I travel to Mexico for the next part of the bike ride, I will miss those whom I am riding with now. But I am looking forward to new people I will meet.
Monday, April 21, 2008
Where going green means making some green
While the US is gearing up for it’s biggest Earth Day celebration in 40 years, Mexico continues to greatly surpass us in “green” activities. We had been trying to discover how we could continue to recycle while in Mexico, but weren’t being given a lot of detailed information about our trash pick-up. Dave had basically been told that our housekeeper would take care of it, and that everyone recycled. Today, I got the whole story.
Not so long ago, Mexico used open garbage dumps to collect all of the city’s trash. Huge trucks simply continued dumping until the pit was full, then it was covered with dirt & they moved on to another dump. Cardboard shanty towns would crop up around the dumps and poor families would make a meager living by pulling anything of value out of the dumps and reselling it.
As Mexico City has worked to become healthier and cleaner over the last few years, this home-grown economy grew even larger. Every piece of cardboard, plastic, and glass can be sold to scrap dealers who resell it for a profit. In order to encourage recycling, the government simply supported the purchase of used items. Now, each garbage truck and garbage dump literally has people in it every day sorting through the trash to collect piles of recyclable materials. The trash gets picked up every few days so that there’s nothing too rotten in there, and every possible item is removed for reuse or recycling.
Amazing!
Not so long ago, Mexico used open garbage dumps to collect all of the city’s trash. Huge trucks simply continued dumping until the pit was full, then it was covered with dirt & they moved on to another dump. Cardboard shanty towns would crop up around the dumps and poor families would make a meager living by pulling anything of value out of the dumps and reselling it.
As Mexico City has worked to become healthier and cleaner over the last few years, this home-grown economy grew even larger. Every piece of cardboard, plastic, and glass can be sold to scrap dealers who resell it for a profit. In order to encourage recycling, the government simply supported the purchase of used items. Now, each garbage truck and garbage dump literally has people in it every day sorting through the trash to collect piles of recyclable materials. The trash gets picked up every few days so that there’s nothing too rotten in there, and every possible item is removed for reuse or recycling.
Amazing!
Sunday, April 20, 2008
What not to wear ... En espanol
What NOT to wear:
Shorts, tank tops, tee shirts, pajama pants, flip-flops, midriff tops, baseball caps, tennis shoes
What to wear if you’re an American desperately trying to fit in:
Whatever you’d normally wear to church on Sunday. Or something made by a designer.
Americans are notorious for our atrocious fashions. More to the point, we’re so filthy rich that we don’t mind looking like complete slobs in public most of the time! Even devoted fans of Clinton & Stacy’s TV show (or Trinny & Susannah’s British version) aren't likely to clean up for a quick trip to the mall.
But we had heard that Mexico is a different story all together. So today we spent a lot of time people watching. What do they wear in Mexico? Basically what we would wear to church! Designer labels are actually more popular there than here, but most guys were in jeans and polos, while ladies were in jeans, capris, or casual pants with cute tops. In fact, their word for polo shirt is “playera” which roughly translates to “beachwear”.
Shorts, tank tops, tee shirts, pajama pants, flip-flops, midriff tops, baseball caps, tennis shoes
What to wear if you’re an American desperately trying to fit in:
Whatever you’d normally wear to church on Sunday. Or something made by a designer.
Americans are notorious for our atrocious fashions. More to the point, we’re so filthy rich that we don’t mind looking like complete slobs in public most of the time! Even devoted fans of Clinton & Stacy’s TV show (or Trinny & Susannah’s British version) aren't likely to clean up for a quick trip to the mall.
But we had heard that Mexico is a different story all together. So today we spent a lot of time people watching. What do they wear in Mexico? Basically what we would wear to church! Designer labels are actually more popular there than here, but most guys were in jeans and polos, while ladies were in jeans, capris, or casual pants with cute tops. In fact, their word for polo shirt is “playera” which roughly translates to “beachwear”.
Saturday, April 19, 2008
Worse than a Michigan Left
Never ones to plan a boring weekend, Dave & I spent over 6 hours in his new Nissan Impala navigating the unpredictable roads of Mexico City & its environs. Ok, so Dave drove and navigated, and I mainly watched the sights speed by. Well, sometimes speed by. Other times, it seemed we were perpetually stuck in traffic. There were a few things working against us:
A malfunctioning GPS with outdated maps
street signs completely in Spanish (including Spanish abbreviations)
absolutely no knowledge of where we were going!
Eventually, we did find our way from the airport to the Mexico City Christian Academy and from there to Toluca. Thankfully we were very happy to be together, because constantly turning around, getting lost again, getting stuck in traffic again, and then trying another road would have made anyone else nutty!
But it was a great way to see the city (almost all of it!).
A malfunctioning GPS with outdated maps
street signs completely in Spanish (including Spanish abbreviations)
absolutely no knowledge of where we were going!
Eventually, we did find our way from the airport to the Mexico City Christian Academy and from there to Toluca. Thankfully we were very happy to be together, because constantly turning around, getting lost again, getting stuck in traffic again, and then trying another road would have made anyone else nutty!
But it was a great way to see the city (almost all of it!).
Sunday, April 6, 2008
To Sell or not to Sell... that's only one of the questions!
We have never really considered selling our house in MI. The logistical answer is that by all accounts, our house has lost a lot of value since our purchase, despite our seemingly endless renovations. Even if we managed to sell it, we’d probably lose a lot of money.
But after a lot of soul-searching today, I finally stumbled upon the real reason. We can’t emotionally deal with selling the house. Selling is so final. Selling means moving not just relocating. Selling our house and living in another one means that our home would be there and not here. It would mean that if we come back, we’d never again be able to enjoy all the hard work we put into “our” house. Holding onto the house is a symbol that we’re still Americans – residents, homeowners, caring citizens. Owning the house means we can get mail and vote and complain about the government and care about the school system.
Without it, we’re just nomads. Crazy wanderers who never put down roots and instead continually search for adventure. Which, come to think of it, isn’t all that bad…
But after a lot of soul-searching today, I finally stumbled upon the real reason. We can’t emotionally deal with selling the house. Selling is so final. Selling means moving not just relocating. Selling our house and living in another one means that our home would be there and not here. It would mean that if we come back, we’d never again be able to enjoy all the hard work we put into “our” house. Holding onto the house is a symbol that we’re still Americans – residents, homeowners, caring citizens. Owning the house means we can get mail and vote and complain about the government and care about the school system.
Without it, we’re just nomads. Crazy wanderers who never put down roots and instead continually search for adventure. Which, come to think of it, isn’t all that bad…
Tuesday, April 1, 2008
13 books
So today I stopped by the biblioteca (library). The plan was to “just browse” in order to delay the inevitable return to a lonely, empty house. I didn’t even bring my totebag. Minutes later, I was struggling to carry 13 tomes to my car without dropping any!
It won’t be surprising to anyone if I finish all of those, and more, before leaving for Mexico.
Mexico – how will I find so many books in Mexico?
None of this quick errand will be able to happen there. Without a car, I won’t casually “stop by” anywhere. There will be no cozy libraries full of interesting and diverse people and equally interesting and diverse stories. There will be no easy way to pick up a dozen or so books, or scan a few magazines, or make small talk. Even though books, and magazines, and friendly people will be available, all of those stories will happen in a foreign language.
And for someone who loves stories so much, it will be hard to adjust.
It won’t be surprising to anyone if I finish all of those, and more, before leaving for Mexico.
Mexico – how will I find so many books in Mexico?
None of this quick errand will be able to happen there. Without a car, I won’t casually “stop by” anywhere. There will be no cozy libraries full of interesting and diverse people and equally interesting and diverse stories. There will be no easy way to pick up a dozen or so books, or scan a few magazines, or make small talk. Even though books, and magazines, and friendly people will be available, all of those stories will happen in a foreign language.
And for someone who loves stories so much, it will be hard to adjust.
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