Day 9: Becoming a Bag Lady

"La mayoria prefiere tener la razon que ser feliz."

("The majority of people prefer being right over being happy.")

-Wall art at Ten-Ten-Pie

9:00 pm

I met an ex-guerilla this morning. An ex-guerilla who happens to be a woman. Julie DuRand is married to Cliff, the slightly eccentric overseer of the Center for Global Justice. She was born in Guatemala to a privileged family, and she would always see the poor and notice the class conflicts and the violence, and when she was 13 years old she left home, she said, because she couldn't stop asking "¿Porqué?" --"Why?" She was a very interesting lady. She told us a lot of things to make us think. The amazing thing was that I understood every word, even though she spoke in a very poetic form of Spanish. The things that she told us made a lot of sense, especially in the scope of the things that I saw in the campo. I tell you, I can't wait to get out there. I love San Miguel, it's an amazing town, but I have the feeling that my stay in the campo is going to be more than amazing. It's going to be life-altering.

Julie told talked about seeing life as a bag that should be filled with experiences, and she said that by the time you die, your bag should be so heavy that you won't be able to carry it anymore. She kept mentioning her various "lives;" which was a way of talking about all her different experiences in different places. She also said that it was important to not feel bad for the poor people we see; because although they are poor, it is a poverty of economics, not a poverty of the heart or the soul or the spirit. Meanwhile, people who rush around all day for no particular reason and don't get a chance to enjoy the world around them are the ones who deserve our pity. "Just be happy today," she said. "Not tomorrow, not the day after, but today. Not for me, not for anyone else, but for yourself. Just be happy." I thought it was the best advice I had heard in a long time.

Tonight we went to a fun restaurant called Ten-Ten-Pie. I had sopes de pollo, which were like little fat tortillas that were formed like plates, and there were beans and avocado and tomato and cheese and chicken in the little fat-tortilla-plate. The guacamole was great, too, and everyone was raving about how great their respective dishes were. And, let me tell you, it's very hard to please all of us at once, because we have a few vegetarians, a few tightwads, and a few just really really picky eaters. But the food was amazing and really reasonably priced, unlike most of the restaurants around here that take advantage of the citizens of "Little America." The odd thing was, though, the restaurant doubled as a kind of art gallery, so as soon as we could get over the naked women staring at us from the walls, we were fine. We had fun, too, laughing and gossiping about our various professors that seem to have a lot of tension between them for some reason. (Did that sentence make sense? I am still having a hard time with English. Also, today I couldn't for the life of me remember if I was 19 or 20 years old. I had to really think about it. I must be getting too much sun.)

Tonight, as we were walking home, an adorable little boy with black eyes and chubby little hands came up to us to beg for money. I think I may go back there tomorrow to talk to him and see where his parents are and see if he might have some insight for my research. He was so sad and so beautiful.

Those hummingbirds keep coming back in droves. I got a pretty good picture today, but it's not great. I'm going to get at least one great one before I leave. It's funny, I sit out here in the courtyard with my readings, and every time the hummingbirds come back, I quietly sit and try to take good pictures of them. They are so cute! So, here is the good picture...

I miss you all, but I am falling more in love with Mexico every day. I already feel that by the time I leave here, my "bag" that Julie was talking about is already going to be very, very heavy.