It's a process

Pancho Villa

Perhaps it was that additional dose of wisdom that comes with age that I earned yesterday as I entered my 49th year, but it was really good to take in this week's update from TMFKATB. I picked up on how he is maturing, more so than I have in previous letters. I also noticed how his English is deteriorating again. That's a good thing, given that he's behind the Zion Curtain, a place not exactly known for an overwhelmingly Spanish-speaking population.

He talked a bit about some of the challenges the people they are working with are facing. As missionaries get to know people, they become, unwittingly, psychologists, marriage counselors, headhunters, and confessors. It's a lot for teenagers, because by and large these are eighteen and nineteen year olds, to handle. He's seen the highs and lows of people's decisions and actions this week. He talked about how the answers people are looking for don't come easily. He mentioned the process. There's a process to getting answers, particularly to those answers that need to come from God through prayer. There's a process to exercising the necessary faith. It's not a matter of just asking. It takes some work.

He talked about the busy week he'd had. He likes being busy but I don't think he'd mind a moment to think about what's coming next. He's always a bit more at ease when he knows what's coming next. He did have time to enjoy what he called "the best torta in the world." Here it is:

One beaut' of a torta 

It sure looks good, I'll give him that. And as for the 'Pancho Villa' get up in the first picture taken at a church party, no words. I have no words. But then again, he is my son. And there are plenty of pictures of me, dressed foolishly, for many a church party. Sadly, I wasn't a twenty year old in most of them. I was 40...

On Mexico City

El Angel de la Independencia

As noted in my excuse for posting the letter from TMFKATB, I spent all last week in Mexico City for work. Can I just go on record on how much I enjoy this sprawling, chaotic world capital? It's an amazing place. It is a place that never disappoints and that was certainly the case again this trip.

The days were long and busy, but when you are working with some really great people and have a view like the one in the picture to the left, you get by. My company's office tower sits on the Plaza de la Reforma, one of the main drags in the city, and overlooks the famed statue, El Angel de la Independencia. Meetings took me to different parts of the city and it was fascinating to take it all in.

It is city, like many big metropolises, where every street, every corner tells a different story. Perhaps due to TMFKATB eight months living in this country, I was a little more sensitive to what was going on around me. This was particularly true as I walked through the area around my hotel each night. This led to dinner one night at an amazing Yucatanese restaurant and then on my last night there, a gorging dinner at my favorite taco joint in the whole of the city, El Caminero. The tacos there are about a buck a piece and they are nothing like the "tacos" one gets at Whack in the Crack for .99 a piece. No, the ones at El Caminero are, unlike those from the aforementioned Whack, in fact delicious and are not a lump of carne misteriosa that looks more like a sebaceous cyst in a sealed shell. They are amazing.

I was the only Americano at el Caminero the night I ate there and I loved taking in a futbol match on the TV with several other patrons. It was fun to talk with them about the game and to have them ask me if I was Cuban (my DNA may say otherwise but in my soul, I'd like to think si, soy un poco Cubano). As I spent time there and with my Mexican colleagues, I was reminded of the many letters from TMFKATB speaking of his love for this people. I get it.

Speaking of TMFAKTB, while he was still serving in Tuxtla Gutierrez, he sent us a picture of some cookies that he insisted we had to try. Over the next few months, we tried to find them everywhere, except of course here in the state in which we live because we live under the iron fist of Martha Stewart and there's no way that would be allowed. No way. Anyway, after a tear through several straight out of Mexico markets in the Phoenix-area, I was told that the maker did not import that specific cookie to the States. So my only mission on this trip, besides El Caminero, was to find those friggin' cookies. I tried for three days and every tienda or bodega I went into did not have them. Finally, on my fourth and final night, in a driving rainstorm in which the side streets of Mexico City turned to rivers, I went into an OXXO and there they were - the last two bags of said cookies in the whole place. Here's the proof:

Mission Accomplished!

They really are good, by the way. One package will make it's way behind the Zion Curtain to a certain young man here sooner rather than later.

As I left Friday morning, I got a little emotional in the Mexico City Airport as they repeated the final boarding call for the first flight to Tuxtla Gutierrez no fewer than four times. I thought of what was going through The Boy's mind nearly one year ago when he first stepped foot in that same airport awaiting a flight to Tuxtla. He was a brand-new missionary, barely speaking a word of Spanish. He called us one final time from that airport that day and it was safe to say he was a little overwhelmed. What a difference a year makes! The eight months he was in Mexico will benefit him the rest of his life.

And I, for one, am looking forward to years of playing "Whose Spanish is Better?" with him. Bring it on!

S'up, he said

During the time that TMFKATB served in Mexico, his English grew worse and worse and that was reflected in his weekly emails. They were an exercise in translation frustration as I tried to make them readable for his blog.

Now that he's Stateside, one would think that with the English influence, things might improve. One would be wrong. Now, to give credit where credit is due, it is a little easier to read his letters but as this week's email showed, he's using his Spanish enough to still impact his English syntax. That's fine by me, as I want him to hone his Spanish-speaking skills. They will be a blessing to him for a long time to come.

I was reminded of that today as I led a video call with my team, who stretch from Canada to Argentina. Our newest team member, an Argentine, is much more comfortable speaking in Spanish. Most of my team speaks Spanish but one does not so I was able to translate and was grateful to have been given that gift of a second language. Thirty years ago, as I hoofed it through the streets of 'locura' that was, and let's face it, still is, Miami, I had no idea how that language would serve me for the rest of my life. It's been a blessing. A straight-up blessing.

Reeling it back from Memory Lane, TMFKATB had a good week. He is really happy. He had a couple of experiences that reminded him why he's serving. He feels like they were pointed to people this past week to help them specifically and not be happenstance. He sees the hand of God in those encounters. It's an impactful lesson for a nineteen year old.

In spite of being in the heart of the Zion Curtain, he's not wanting for all things Latin. He raved about Salvadoran food and a place he wants to take me to some day. He couldn't say enough about the chuleta. Here it is:

That, my friends, is one well dressed pork chop. He's being well fed. Given that he lost thirty plus pounds, Salvadoran pork chops and the homemade bread that gets tossed their way isn't a bad thing. Until it is. He'll know when it is. It'll be the moment one of the buttons on his white shirt snaps off as he exhales and hits the kid across the table from him in the eye. I know this can happen from sad experience.

May he learn from my mistakes...