Camellia's Time in Mexico

To say that Mexico changed my life would not be an exaggeration. It being my first mission trip, I didn’t fully know what to expect. However, from the stories I’d heard from others, I anticipated to work, learn to function within a group, share the Gospel, and in Mexico specifically, force myself into awkward encounters of struggling to communicate in a language that I was far from fluent in. Throughout the whole first week in Monterrey, it was hard for me to grasp that I was actually out of the United States for the first time, and the freedom that came with that realization is indescribable. Within a few days filled with playing with kids and introducing myself as best I could, my Spanish slowly began to improve, and my anxiety at the thought of my unpreparedness began to disappear. However, although I was exceedingly grateful for my Spanish/English dictionary, I soon came to realize that my experience wasn’t dependent on whether or not I could speak Spanish well. As I came into contact with more and more people, I could see how much they loved me before either one of us had even spoken a word. They expressed it with their eyes, and their smiles, and their arms that hugged me tightly to them, as if I was someone that they had lost that was finally coming home. During the school year, I had spent so many hours pouring my heart and soul into numerous projects that contributed primarily to my reputation. But in Mexico, I could smile at my exhaustion as I fell asleep each night, knowing that my energy had been well spent and glorifying to the kingdom of God. I was able to exist where I was with the people that I was with, my shoulders light as I gave my many burdens to God.

One of the most interesting aspects of the trip was taking what we had learned during our Sunday night mission meetings in Ruston to Monterrey, Saltillo, and Cuernavaca, all of which none of us had ever been. Monterrey taught us to stay hydrated at all times as we went on prayer walks and chased kids around the streets in sweltering heat, but it was there that we rooted ourselves in the Diocese House that became our home away from home. Even now, from the long, wooden conference table on and around which we ate meals and had our debriefs, to the strangely narrow stream of water from the showerhead in the upstairs bathroom, to my bed from which I could see the street below us, the memories of that house are crystal clear in my mind. I know that if I ever return, it will feel like I’ve never even left. Martin and Reverend Alfonso, both leaders of the Anglican Church, were our guardian angels, helping us in any way they could. Saltillo seemed to be perpetually bathed in a warm and golden glow, both from the sun and the kindness of the people we met. When we arrived there, we were immediately welcomed into the church with open arms. Then, our team of eleven was split into groups, each one going to a different family’s home. I was blessed enough to spend my nights with Father Victor and his wife, Gabby, at their beautiful house. Beyond the amazing food they offered Trevor, Emma, Gracie, Henry, and I, the time we spent with them there brought me nothing but joy and peace. The entire church was loving and kind, and they went to great lengths to make us feel welcome. Although we only stayed there for four days, there were many tears from both sides when we said our goodbyes. Cuernavaca was where we spent our last week, and it was there that I was met with many eye-opening experiences. Along with visiting a giant bakery with rows upon rows of pastries, and standing atop El Tepozteco pyramid at the top of a mountain in Tepoztlán, our team was assigned to work in an encampment in an extremely poor area, painting walls and playing with children who were carefree and brimming with happiness despite their dismal surroundings and circumstances. We were confronted with the fact that even though we were spending our time working there, in the evening we would be able to return to a house with plenty of beds, food, and showers, and ultimately the United States, where our privilege was even more evident.

I don’t think I can compile a complete list of the many ways that Mexico changed me, but each day, from reading Thomas Merton’s New Seeds of Contemplation and striving to be confident and fearless in my faith, I felt a transformation in my spirit.  Quincie , Emma, and Trevor boldly led us through uncharted territory in a myriad of situations, and when they were unsure they relied on the Holy Spirit to guide us. I will always be thankful for how our leaders enforced honesty and respect among our team, sometimes to a painful (but necessary) degree. And as our team grew closer together, we grew closer to God. Just how words failed me so many times in Mexico, they do so here in my attempt to express the overwhelming amount of love and joy I received from the people I met. Above all else, I learned that serving God and doing His will is all anyone needs to live a satisfying life.