It's a Small World After All

Over the past several weeks I have been interviewing women from the State of Mexico who make a living by making and selling clothing. Most of the women live in government housing built several years ago and started their trade with less than several hundred dollars. As I listen to them tell their stories of working in factories or learning from their mothers, and marvel at how they balance a busy family life with a (often struggling) business life, I feel farther from home than ever. I remember that there are dozens of other Haverford students carrying out other amazing projects around the world, but that only reminds me of how far away people like Emily Horn '09 and Clare Adams '09 are, who are currently working at an orphanage in Tanzania.
Still, there are just as many clues that perhaps this world is not so big. Several weeks ago, the Casa prepared to host 15 high school students on a community service and language immersion trip. Of course, I awaited their arrival at the front desk having no idea that they were all from my county in Maryland, several students and one teacher from my high school. Two weekends ago, Noel, Lea, Professor Krippner and I made the trek up the pyramids at Teotihuacan. On the top of the Sun Pyramid, a woman asked if we would take a picture of her and her daughter. Of course, where else were they from but Pennsylvania.
Last week, I interviewed three women and two men with microbusinesses in clothing production at a center called Amextra in a town called Chalco. The Amextra office is painted bright green and yellow, making it stand out against its neighboring gray and aging apartments and stores. In areas like the one where Amextra is located, it is rare to find a single person who speaks English. You can imagine my surprise when I walked in last Wednesday morning, expecting to see the normal crowds of Mexicans waiting for credit approval, the dentist's office, or their health class, and I saw eight Americans speaking English. They belonged to a group that planned to work on various Christian missionary projects and were very interested in the work I was doing. There must be so many people working on social justice projects this summer throughout the world, I suppose it was just a matter of time before I ran into some Americans. Just when I thought I was as far as I could possibly be from my home or Haverford, I was quickly corrected and reminded of what a small world we live in.

Spiritual Hospitality

Before I left for Mexico City this summer, I had trouble explaining to people what exactly I would be doing, mostly because I did not know what to expect. The most basic and frequent explanation I offered was simply that I would be working at a Quaker house. Of course, people asked me, what is a Quaker house? At that time, it was easiest to describe it as a youth hostel that has a peace and conflict resource center. I was very wrong.
Upon my arrival, I quickly learned that this Quaker house is anything but a hostel. It is, as the sign says on the front door, "A Center for Peace and International Understanding." The Casa facilitates events and workshops that focus on the three main program areas: migration, economic justice, and peace and conflict resolution. For many organizations, that is enough work. The Casa, however, includes a guest house (not to be confused with a hotel or a hostel). With rooms starting at 100 pesos (10 dollars) a night, the Casa hosts a wide range of people. There is constant traffic filtering in and out of the front reception room, creating a busy and exciting atmosphere. But despite the perpetual buzz of activity, the Casa remains a calm, spiritually-based space that never loses its sense of welcome and compassion.
Some people have asked me what I do here, am I just a receptionist? Yes, maybe I do work at the reception desk, but that job is so much more than I ever could have imagined. In one shift I might make a reservation for a backpacker from California, help organize meeting space for a group of 30 youth group missionaries, and show a refugee to his room where he will be able to stay safely and for free thanks to a program with the Sin Fronteras organization. I think most people would agree that a place where a backpacking student can stay in the same room as a refugee from Haiti is more than just a hostel.
So far, I have interviewed nine women for a project on microbusiness support, designed the seasonal newsletter in both Spanish and English, and begun developing informational materials on the benefits of organic products in the fight for economic solidarity. My work here has taken me to Tlalmanaco, Ixtapaluca, Valle de Chalco, and to an auditorium covered in relief murals by David Alfaro Siqueiros (the setting of a benefit dinner for the organization Rostros y Voces, soon to be the new OxFam-Mexico). With six weeks left, I am looking forward to helping out at a graffiti contest for youth in Tlalmanaco, preparing for a fashion show to support women who make their own clothing, and organizing a workshop on how to use organic products in daily cooking. I realize now, La Casa de los Amigos is definitely not a hostel, and I am clearly not a receptionist.

An Unexpected Language Barrier

Anytime a person travels to a foreign country where the people speak a different language, they have to accept the fact that they will inevitably encounter situations where they simply cannot find the words to communicate. Whether trying to give directions to a taxi driver or attempting to comprehend an elaborate restaurant menu, language is an obstacle that all travelers must overcome. As I prepared for my trip to Mexico, I felt fairly confident that I would not encounter too many situations where I would be unable to find the correct Spanish vocabulary. For the most part, I have proven myself correct and find it relatively easy to survive on the Spanish I have been taught at Haverford. For my internship with Micro Meda Mexico, an NGO affiliated with La Casa, I make a four-hour round-trip commute to a pueblo called Tlalmanaco in the State of Mexico, just outside the city. On my first day, my "boss" Andres (right) picked me up at 7:15 in the morning. Throughout the drive we chatted about basic things such as what I am studying at Haverford, what I do for fun, and whether I miss my family. I had no trouble understanding Andres, and he seemed to understand my Spanish, so I was pretty pleased with myself. However, as we sped along the highway out of the city, we soon came to a high point on a hill and he pointed out into the sky ahead of us. Through the haze and clouds (sometimes it's from pollution, sometimes it's a coming storm) I could just make out the peak of the volcano Popocatepetl. I suppose I was simply not prepared for the amazing view, so the only word I could think of was "wow," which it turns out is actually quite a difficult word for Mexicans to pronounce. Since then, my internship has taken me on other various road trips outside the city to small towns like Chalco and Ixtapaluca. Everytime I see another amazing view I am faced again with the same internal language barrier. I don't know quite how to explain, in English or in Spanish, the awe I feel when I get to see yet another new and exciting place. The image above shows my "boss" Andres and my coworker Olaf (left) in front of one of the beautiful vistas in the countryside of Ixtapaluca. I couldn't explain to them at that time how incredible I thought the land looked, so I simply said, "Necesito sacar un foto" (I need to take a picture), and they understood.

The Venice of Mexico City

After one week of adjusting to Mexico City- the altitude, the water and the (sometimes too friendly) people- we set off on our first sight-seeing adventure with the other Casa volunteers and friends of the Casa. We traveled about one hour on metro and "tren ligero" until we arrived in the town of Xochimilco, otherwise known as "the Venice of Mexico City." Hundreds of years ago, before Mexico City became one of the most populous areas on earth, it was the city of Tenochtitlan. There, about 250,000 people survived by using an agricultural process based completely on the use of canals. Today, the town of Xochimilco is the only remnant of those ancient canals. However, instead of being used as an agricultural method, tourists can rent a boat and a guide for several hours to explore the souvenir- and mariachi band-filled waterways. There, the romantic Venetian visions of couples kissing under bridges are replaced by intoxicated tourists dancing wobbily on their narrow "gondolas" and singing passionately to Mariachi bands paid to float alongside them for the duration of a few songs. So maybe we didn't get to see the ancient artifacts and historic buildings until the second week of our time here, but we certainly got to experience the appreciation for friendship and celebration unique to the Mexican way of life.

Hola de La Casa de Los Amigos

When Noel, Lea, and I first arrived in Mexico City two and a half weeks ago, we weren't quite sure how we would adjust to living in such an enormous city. The streets are always filled with trucks and taxis, and it always seems like rush hour on the Metro. However, we somehow lucked out and found ourselves welcomed into La Casa de Los Amigos, a Quaker peace center and guest house. Dividing our time between living and volunteering inside La Casa, and working at internships throughout Mexico City and the State of Mexico offers us the opportunity to experience both the calm and the chaos that this complex city has to offer. While in La Casa, we engage in program work focusing on economic justice, migration and peace and conflict resolution. Outside La Casa, we have the chance to work directly with organizations that support women's rights in the home, workplace and society as a whole. For the next seven and a half weeks, Noel, Lea, and I will do our best to describe the amazing things we see and do. For now, I will leave you with a timeless image: in the foreground is the Aztec ruins called the Templo Mayor; in the middle is the colonial Cathedral that borders one side of the Zocalo; and in the background is the Torre Latinoamericana, Mexico City's first skyscraper. It is this combination and preservation of separate time periods that makes Mexico City such an incredible place to spend our summer.