Christmas Day

In the morning I did some last shopping for my new apartment (yes, I’m moving to the Island) the stores that were open were almost deserted. I just hung out at home and got caught up on my writing; the internet was down so I couldn’t post anything new. In the afternoon Lydia and I decide to hike up to the lighthouse (to see how old and out of shape we really are) The Faro’s claim to fame is that is the tallest natural lighthouse in American Hemisphere. I am not sure what that means but it’s important enough to be written on a big sign at the base. As we huffed and puffed our way up we decide that maybe we were as old as our drivers licence say we are...maybe even a bit older. After we had a brief break at the top and finished taking pictures of the beautiful view of the city we realized it had only taken us 25 minutes...wow, are we in great shape or what? All the way down we complimented ourselves on how a great a shape we were in and how our drivers licence must be wrong...we are much younger than we had thought we were. From there we went to Barbara and Al’s house for another Christmas Supper and we gleefully ate chips and dip and cashews by the handful because we are in such great shape. That is, until we turned our backs to the chips & dip to watch a huge cruise ship come in (we were on the roof) and one of the dogs stole our dip...all of it! Never turn your back on the chip bowl....I don’t know what came over me because I usually don’t do that. ....I keep my eye on the chip bowl at all times. Oh well, probably for the best, we needed room for the feast Barbara had prepared for us, and it was indeed a feast. They had also invited Walter who is here from BC (another Canadian) and Rua who is from Lithuania, we had such interesting conversations and many hilarious stories of travelling mishaps and language blunders, good to know I am not the only one that has mishaps. And so ended another wonderful Christmas.
It’s official, you do not need snow to get into the Christmas Spirit, the Christmas Spirit is something that dwells in you, not in the snow, and if it dwells in you it follows you wherever you go. It has nothing to do with the snow, the Christmas tree or the gifts under it or the candy and tinsel.

Christmas Eve in Mazatlan

In the morning Lydia, I and Raquel’s (a friend of Lydia’s) 2 daughters set off for Stone Island loaded with Christmas presents and food bags for some extremely poor families. All 4 of us were very excited to be playing Santa to these children that were not expecting us. We had to conceal our treasures in back packs and black plastic bags otherwise every child on the Island would have been at our heels. Our first stop was Dona Sofia (that older lady that is slowly going deaf and blind) we gave her a food bag and a nice thick blanket, she had commented the week before that she was always cold and when we would hug her she always commented on how warm we were, and how she liked holding our hands when we prayed for her because they were so warm. She is such a sweet sweet lady (picture above). From there we headed over to a lady that has 2 boys with Muscular Dystrophy (MD) we dropped off blankets and some toys and children’s Bible story books. Off too Chuy’s house from there, Chuy also has MD but is still able to walk as long as someone holds onto him, he is such a cutie and such a sweet heart...he is so calm, polite, gentle and always with such a smiley face. We dropped off blankets, toys and again a Children’s bible story book which seemed to impress him the most; he keep commenting that it was new, these kids are used to always having to made due with other people’s hand me downs, getting something new is fairly special to them. As we made about 6 more deliveries like this the 4 of us kept commenting on how this was the best Christmas ever for us and how we are so fortunate to be able to do something like this....on the boat ride home my heart felt much lighter leaving the Island this time, I did however wish that I could have shared this with my family and friends at home.
Candlelight Service and a Christmas Eve Dinner
At 6:00 pm I went to the candlelight service at the Vina Church, the service was wonderful, music was awesome and Praise God the church filled up completely.
After the service Lydia and I were invited to Chalize’s house for their family Christmas supper, which is about 7 doors down from us. Chalize and her husband are elders in the Spanish Vina church and their whole family is very involved in all church activities. The party was rather lively with quite a few kids, and laughing singing teenagers, and of course music. Then the Piñata came out for the kids and it got really lively, and then the piñata for the adults came out and then it got out of control...pretty much. The food was awesome, turkey, Mexican mashed potatoes (different than ours) 2 different kinds of shrimp, some mixture made with hamburger, carrots, green pepper, walnuts, almonds and prunes, in a tomato based sauce...very different but very good, Chalize promised to teach me how to make it. Once again I was very frustrated at my lack of Spanish; I had to follow Lydia around like a puppy because I always needed her to help me communicate. Other than that is an awesome night, the party was far from over when we walked home at 10:00.

Christmas Posada at Villa Union

Every Sunday after our church service in the Golden Zone Barbara & Al and myself head off to villa Union where we have a service in the church that the La Vina planted there a few years ago. The church building is complete with a suite upstairs for the someday Pastor that God is going to send (he seems to be taking his time with that) Every Saturday they feed about 100 kids in the church building and hold a very well attended Sunday School class (on Saturday) for the kids, but on the Sunday afternoon church service there are many empty chairs, which could be why they can’t find a Pastor, no Pastor likes to preach to an empty church, but will the church grow without a full time Pastor? So for now a young couple from the US who came to Pastor at the Dona Chonita church come with us on Sundays ( their heart is in Dona Chonita and they are only filling in until someone else shows up) from what I’ve seen in the 3 times I’ve been there they are doing a great job. This Sunday were planned on having a little Christmas Posada out there.
Here’s a little side story to this story.......A few weeks before Christmas a lot of people from California drive down here to do their Christmas shopping because it is cheaper here and on Sundays is when they are heading home with all their Christmas treasures. The backs of pick-up trucks are loaded, all the roof racks are loaded to the max and some people even are pulling trailers full of stuff. About 90% of traffic heading out of Mazatlan on Sunday have California licence plates, traffic is brutal and it moves at a turtles pace. The highway out of Mazatlan is a 2 lane highway but when people here tend to get impatient is it very common to squeeze in beside the 2 lanes making it a 3 lane highway (happens all the time) Just past the airport turn off the 2 lanes merge into a single lane road and that happens right at a bridge that is only narrow enough for 1 vehicle at a time (even a Mexican cannot squeeze in 2) so when this merge happens traffic gets backed up. Al’s explanation “there are more cars than there is road”.
So....last Sunday being the last day for weekend shoppers to get out of here before Christmas was exceptionally bad, which we had anticipated so we left early but not early enough. Traffic was squeezed in 4 wide (on a 2 lane road) there were times when we didn’t move at all for 15 minutes at a time and then got to pull ahead about 12 feet. As we’re sitting in traffic Al realizes that he has forgotten the keys to the church building....we’re going to show up very very late for service and we will not be able to get into the church building. He calls young Pastor Kyle to see if he is waiting for us at the church, turns out he is 2 miles behind us in traffic and also doesn’t have keys.
3 hours later we show up at the church (this drive usually takes about 20 minutes and that includes making a few stops to pick up 3 very energetic young Mexican Sunday school teachers). Of course it’s dark by now but the moon was incredibly full and bright so we decide to have a moonlight service out side in the street....there are no yards here, so if you’re not in your house you’re on the street. Amazing enough Al drove a different van this time than usual (for no reason) this van had about 20 plastic chairs in it from a previous function, so we set up chairs and pretend that this was all planned. Meanwhile I really need a bathroom so I head to the nearest house, the houses in this neighbourhood are all built with tar paper, scrap metal, scrap wood and held together by rope, wire and God’s grace. I ask the gentleman that comes to the door “tiene Bano” ...do you have a bathroom? He says no. I say “por favour”...Please. He shakes his head and says no again. I know they have a bathroom and he is most likely embarrassed about crude it is, at this point I really don’t care what it looks like. So I beg “por favour...por favour” Please, please. He finally gives in and calls his little daughter Paula to take me through the back of their compound with a flash light and shows me the bathroom, which was the most beautiful bathroom I have even seen or used, I must have said “gracias” about 18 times to the man and his wife. I invited them to our little posada but they declined. I told them that we had “regales para ninos”...presents for kids, but they still declined. So I just said “gracias” another 18 times and went on my way. We had an amazing service under the moonlight; we even had some new people show up for the first time. (As apposed to our regular 6) Kyle played his guitar and led us through worship, of course we gringos couldn’t sing along as we need the overhead projector so we can read the words, but we hummed along. 2 gentlemen walked by and joined us (it’s very hard to get men here to come to church unless there’s a woman dragging them in) so this was wonderful, after the service we had some cookies and handed out some little toys that had been donated, I gathered up a napkin full of cookies and a 2 goodie bags and headed back to the family that had let me use their bathroom and wished them a Merry Christmas as well. (And said “gracias” another 18 times. On the way home I was just overcome with gratefulness to be able to have this amazing opportunity to be here.

Feliz Navidad

Ever since I arrived here the city has been well lit and decorated for Christmas but I didn’t really get into the Christmas spirit until Thursday. Lydia had recently met an American gentleman by the name of Rick that has set up an orphanage for special needs children in Castillo. Castillo is on the far outskirts of Mazatlan, he’s been there for about 4 years now. He has 27 children, and aside from some kitchen help from some local ladies he does it all by himself. He and his wife had adopted 19 special needs children in the US and aside from 3 of them they have all managed to self-sufficient and move out on their own. His wife is back in the US with the last 3, they have not seen each other in 2 years. This has got to be a very strong marriage to survive not just the separation but the stress of raising so many children, children with needs that require constant attention. I joined Lydia and few other merry volunteers and we headed out there with 27 boxes of new shoes and socks. You have no idea how special a pair of new shoes is to a kid that has either never had shoes at all or at least has never had new shoes. There was a lot of dancing and jumping up and down and of course I had forgotten my camera again, sorry. This man must be an angel sent right from heaven. How many men (or women) give up their life for forgotten and unwanted children?
When I walked in I felt like I was walking into his home (probably because it is his home) and that these were his children, even though he is as white as can be and these kids were as Mexican as can be, it felt like a family. We were there for 2 hours handing out the shoes and trying them on each child to make sure they fit and writing each child’s name inside the shoes and just chatting and laughing with them, they were all so cheerful and excited. During the 2 hours not one child cried or tried to start a fight or had a fit of any kind, Lydia said this was the calmest shoe handout she’s ever done. As we left Rick told Lydia that if she ever run across a big, strong man, that could do some labour, and had a truck or a van that he could drive kids around (most American/Canadians don’t drive here...it’s way too scary), a Christian man with very strong Christian values and morals, a very dependable and reliable man to let him know, because he could sure use some help. I’m thinking...ha, if I find a man like that I’m keeping him for myself. He obviously does not know how many women are looking for that same man. Yeah, I’ll keep my eye out for him (wink wink).

Getting into the real Christmas Spirit

Ever since I arrived here the city has been well lit and decorated for Christmas but I didn’t really get into the Christmas spirit until Thursday. Lydia had recently met an American gentleman by the name of Rick that has set up an orphanage for special needs children in Castillo. Castillo is on the far outskirts of Mazatlan, he’s been there for about 4 years now. He has 27 children, and aside from some kitchen help from some local ladies he does it all by himself. He and his wife had adopted 19 special needs children in the US and aside from 3 of them they have all managed to self-sufficient and move out on their own. His wife is back in the US with the last 3, they have not seen each other in 2 years. This has got to be a very strong marriage to survive not just the separation but the stress of raising so many children, children with needs that require constant attention. I joined Lydia and few other merry volunteers and we headed out there with 27 boxes of new shoes and socks. You have no idea how special a pair of new shoes is to a kid that has either never had shoes at all or at least has never had new shoes. There was a lot of dancing and jumping up and down and of course I had forgotten my camera again, sorry. This man must be an angel sent right from heaven. How many men (or women) give up their life for forgotten and unwanted children?
When I walked in I felt like I was walking into his home (probably because it is his home) and that these were his children, even though he is as white as can be and these kids were as Mexican as can be, it felt like a family. We were there for 2 hours handing out the shoes and trying them on each child to make sure they fit and writing each child’s name inside the shoes and just chatting and laughing with them, they were all so cheerful and excited. During the 2 hours not one child cried or tried to start a fight or had a fit of any kind, Lydia said this was the calmest shoe handout she’s ever done. As we left Rick told Lydia that if she ever run across a big, strong man, that could do some labour, and had a truck or a van that he could drive kids around (most American/Canadians don’t drive here...it’s way too scary), a Christian man with very strong Christian values and morals, a very dependable and reliable man to let him know, because he could sure use some help. I’m thinking...ha, if I find a man like that I’m keeping him for myself. He obviously does not know how many women are looking for that same man. Yeah, I’ll keep my eye out for him (wink wink).
I have a few more Christmas stories but right now I have to get ready for a candlelight Christmas eve service at the church and then our neighbours have invited us to their Christmas Street party....not sure what to expect there.

The Papa Loco (the crazy potato)

Tonight we went out to the Dessert Storm which is to me one of the finest restaurants in Mazatlan. It is famous for 2 things, its crazy potato and for its name because it is misspelled, it should be Desert Storm. It is not open during the day and does not start serving the Papa Loco until around 7:30ish, the reason is they don’t open until 7 pm and then they fire up their BBQ grill and put the potatoes on to bake. The Papa Loco is a baked potato, a really big potato. It is baked on the BBQ and then they scrape the potato out and whip it with creama (my favourite) and Chihuahua cheese and put back into the potato shell. By then the slices of beef are done grilling on the grill and it gets put on a chopping block and chopped into fine strips and put on the potato that is served with 2 tortillas. Then you take your plate to the buffet table where you can load it up as much as you want. I really wanted to take a picture of the buffet table as well but I knew that would really scream “tourist”, although Lydia figure I had already crossed that line when I took a pictures of my potato. Toppings available are, lettuce, radishes, tomatoes, cucumbers, onions, beans, 2 different kinds of red salsa, green salsa, guacamole, and a few different kinds of peppers....I might be forgetting some stuff but you get the idea. It is really such a simple meal but it is sooo good. There are many street vendors that sell Papa Locos as well which are good as well but they usually don’t have as many toppings to choose from as these guys do and they just don’t seem to be as fresh either. Maybe when I come home I’ll set up a Papa Loco stand on a corner somewhere, I’ll sell Tostitos Locos as well.......I’ll tell you about them next time, when I have pictures....another genius idea. If you have high speed click on the little picture.....it will make you hungry, I dare you.

Papa Loco Manana

Lydia and I just agreed to go out for Papa Locos tomorrow night, I'll take my camera and take pictures this time. I promise you it's an absolute genius idea.

Just some non-important observations

- Most lifeguards along the beach are also policeman; they carry guns and can arrest you for smoking pot on the beach or for racing with quads on the beach and many other things.
- Police men cruise the streets in pick-up trucks and the guys riding on the back have their guns drawn at all times. Not little teeny weeny pistols either...big guns, always drawn.
- There are always about 3 isles of hair products in the grocery store, the beans take up a whole isle, the canned soup section is only about 2 feet wide, they don’t sell laundry soap in big boxes just in little bags or in bars, ice cream selection is very slim, milk does not need to be refrigerated until opened, rice and pasta come in very small bags only. The reason that food does not come in large quantities is that people here live day to day, they do not stock up on food like we do, and they do not have the space we have to stock up. Kitchens here are not equipped with lot of cupboards, they don’t have huge pantries and most don’t have fridges at all....hence the poor ice-cream selection.
- A 2 lane street can become a 4 lane street with no official warning of any kind.
- It is not uncommon for the bus driver to stop and run across the street to buy some tomatoes to take home or to use a pay phone. ...also not uncommon for the bus to break down (happened once to me so far)
- You can bring your own liquor and your own food into a restaurant.
- They don’t do coffee to go, they can’t imagine not having enough time to sit and enjoy your coffee instead of drinking it on the run.
- There is always a doctor at every drug store that is why you don’t need a written prescription for most drugs, and doctors do still do house calls.
- You can bring your dog onto the bus. (or anything else)
- You can transport a refrigerator on a bicycle and a TV on the back of a motor cycle.
- Kids take their drinks to school in a plastic baggie tied at the top with a straw sticking out. Salsa also comes to school in a baggie.
- You can wash your floors 3 times a day and still have a layer of dust on it...your feet, slippers or socks are forever black on the bottom, now I know why people cover all their electrical appliances, likes toasters, blenders, stereos, and computers etc....
- Not uncommon to see people that have chickens, roosters or even a horse in the city. You don’t have to move out to the country to have a farm.
- Brown sugar does not dry out and get hard here.
- You do not buy eggs by the carton, you put as many as you want in a plastic bag and hope you don’t have scrambled eggs by the time you get home....I have not bought eggs yet for this very reason, it’s also hard in the market because they don’t have shopping carts (remember ....only buying food for the day) I always think I’ll buy them last but by the time I’m done I don’t have room to carry them in a way that I’m sure they won’t break.
- There are no mail boxes, the mailman just throws your mail in front of your door and you just hope the wind does not blow it away.
- Mexicans will hardly ever tell you “No” if you ask them to do something they will say yes and then just not do it, or they will say they will come to something and then just not show up. They consider it very rude to say no but not rude to say yes and then just not.
- The word “frente” means “in front of “in the dictionary, but it is also used for “beside” or “close to “or “around there abouts” making getting directions from someone most confusing.
- It is near impossible to sleep in due to the noise regardless of which neighbourhood you live in. I learned today that most of the gringos that live here use either ear plugs, sleeping pills or Benadryl to help them sleep.....most unhealthy I think. At home I always set 2 alarms clocks so that I don’t sleep in, I only used my alarm clock for the first 3 days, have not needed it since. The noise on my street is mostly due to traffic, it is most uncool to have a muffler on your vehicle or motorbike and about every ½ block you have to test out your horn just in case you get stuck in traffic and you really need it, you would hate to find out then it doesn’t work. You also have to lean out your window once in awhile and yell “ihhhiiiyyiiyiii” (I don’t know how to spell that) as loud as you can...just because.
- If people are home, the doors to their homes are standing open...even I leave the door open now when I am home (until I go to bed)

THe pinata, not just another pretty decoration

The Piñata, not just another pretty decoration.
Although piñatas come in many shapes and sizes the classic piñata is a 7 pointed star. The 7 points represents the seven capitol sins, arrogance, avarice, lust, anger, gluttony, envy and sloth. I’m not sure who originally decided these would be the “capitol sins”.
Hitting a piñata blindfolded represents faith, a virtue that permits us to believe without seeing.
The stick that is used to hit the piñata represents the strength of the virtue that breaks the false and tricky delights of the world.
The filling of the piñata is the symbol of the love of God because breaking with evil helps you to obtain good desires.

My family usually does a pinata at Easter but I never knew that there was a meaning behind.

Excitement at Casa Damasco

We brought a piñata to Casa Damasco today in hopes we could get some smiles or just a reaction of some kind, but first we served lunch and one gentleman could not keep his lunch down and just kept throwing up and I’m ashamed to say I had to leave the room; I was no help at all. Since this is something that happens a lot I have to get over this somehow. It almost seems impossible to get over something that has been with me forever. I remember chaperoning a high school graduation party and throwing up just as much as the drunken grads. I know God can totally change us in any way and I will give this to him to deal with. He helped me with my urge to smoke a few years ago, this is no different. I will overcome this. After lunch we hung the piñata on the back patio and wheeled in those that needed wheeling and hobbled in granny but Otencia kept sitting by the door hanging on to her belongings, I urged her to come, holding out my hand to her and saying “por favor por favor” but she would not leave her spot. She was the only one that did not take a turn at the piñata, everyone that is mobile (there are 4 men that aren’t mobile at all... (3 that can’t move and 1 that just won’t) had a turn, even granny made an attempt. I was a little disappointed at myself for not bringing my camera, everyone looked so light hearted and happy today. I brought Otencia some candy after the piñata exploded and after a while she started really rambling on to me very passionately about something again. I don’t know what to say or do then because I can’t understand a word she says so I smile and lightly shake my head and say “no se” meaning “I don’t know” I scrunch my face and brow up as if I’m really really thinking about what she’s saying and then after a lot thought I say “no se” in a really sympathetic way. This is how we are conversing, you’re thinking “no wonder she had a fit on you last week”. I have a new plan for next week though, the Mexicans use the word “entonces” a lot, it is kind of like “ummm,” you know when you pause in the middle of a sentence and you have to think of what you’re going to say next, so you do a ummm, and then you carry on again. Only the word “entonces” sounds a little smarter then “ummm”, it actually sounds like a word....so I think I’ll use that next week instead of “no Se”. I asked Mariana again today what she was saying and again she just said “she is saying very very bad things” and bows her head and starts praying, perhaps it’s a good thing I can’t understand, if I could I might be intimidated and afraid of her and never go back, at least now I can just smile and say “no se”. I think when you’re wanting God to lead you it’s ok not to know everything.....knowing everything would be way too scary sometimes and we might dig our heals in a little deeper

Guess who messed up at the market today?

I guess it would make more sense to do some homework before I hit the market instead of just spontaneously going and trying to make stuff up, but where would the adventure in that be? Although I still have shrimp in the freezer (1 kilo is a lot of shrimp) I decide I want to make spaghetti and meat sauce....yes I need to attempt to buy ground beef for that. So I wandered through the meat market once, checking out what was available and who seemed friendly (don’t want to get a cranky meat man) and of course I didn’t see any hamburger, just the usual big pieces of cow and pig. I thought the word for beef was “carne”, so I asked a guy for carne, he pointed to his selection of cow pieces (I thought it was cow) so I pick a chunk and ask for 1 kilo, he whips out his machete and chops my chunk off, weighs it....a perfect kilo (not his first day on the job) I figured that if I chop it into really fine pieces it will be almost like hamburger. All is good until I start to fry it and it turns white....it’s “the other white meat” pork. Turns out that “carne” means “meat” any kind of meat, goat, cow, and pig, dog.......this could really have been much worst. “Carne de res” is beef. My pork meat sauce was really good; I may even make this again. Also.....I found out since that all the meat guys will make hamburger for you right there, you just have to ask, but you have to pick out your meat first, what part of the cow makes good hamburger? Any part? All, in all, not a bad day at the market. So far, according to my research I still think it is cheaper to eat out than cook. Just outside my bedroom window is a street vendor that BBQs something every weekend, he’s not there during the week, but to get to him I have to walk about 3 blocks even though he is just out side my window. If I had a very tall ladder I could climb out my window, then I would need to scale a fence with barbed wire on top and there I’d be...but that’s not going to happen, last weekend I just stood by the window and inhaled the wonderful smell and watched other people walk away with big take out containers....I was just dying to know what was in them. This weekend I was not about to wait another week, nope, I hightailed it over there and found whole BBQ chicken on his grill and a menu of the usual tacos, quesadillas, carne asada etc......I bought 2 bean tacos (empanada style) with a side of rice w/2 different salsas for 14 pesos.....yup 14...at first I thought I had misunderstood and gave him 40 (which would have been reasonable as well) he gave me back my 20 and 6 pesos change...14. All the way home with my precious takeout container I felt like I had robbed the man and kept looking over my shoulders for him. I think this is where I will be eating every Saturday night from now on.....defiantly cheaper than cooking. On Friday I also stumbled on to something very yummy. I tell you, Mexicans are geniuses when it comes to food. I discovered “Alote” you see alote pots on almost every corner, I had just never taken the time to really check it out. It just looked like a pot of corn, kernel corn....while I do like corn I wouldn’t stop on a street corner for it. I decided to stop and see what the attraction was, well.....it is a pot of normal kernel corn, she asked me what size I wanted, I choose small, she dumped a small cup of corn into a small pot and asks me if I want creama.....creama! yes I want creama por favor....I love creama. She pours in creama, do I want cheese...I take a little very fine shredded Chihuahua cheese (this is not clumpy or gooey cheese) do I want salt? I pass on the salt, do I want hot sauce? On my corn? I think not. (Not today) She stirs it all up and dumps it back into a little cup and gives me a spoon, I walk away very pleased with myself that I have found a new way to take in more creama (I need calcium you know) This only for 20 pesos, the cup was a regular paper cup. Next time I may upgrade to large and try it with hot sauce. Genius I tell you. Wait until I write about the papas locos, Tostitos locos.....I’ll need pictures though, so you’ll have to wait, the last time I had them (remember it’s been a year since I had them) I was so excited I didn’t get a chance to take pictures. Next time I’ll take pictures... and post them for you.

Another day at Casa Damasco

We spend the afternoon at Casa Damasco (link on the left of the page) again and just like last time I left feeling rather useless, if I’m going to keep going there this will have to change...right? Why go if you’re helping in any way....right?
The lady that sits by the door all day (her name is Otencia...may have spelt it wrong) was sitting by the door again with all her belongings and still wearing the same clothes. Today I noticed that her bags of belonging was just all garbage, empty crushed pop cans, crushed milk carton, bottle caps, wads of used tissues.....garbage to me but obviously this stuff is like her security blanket, she will not let it out of her sight. In a way she’s no different that the rest of us that work and work so that we can collect stuff to hang on to, and store in boxes and closets and sheds....at least she knows where her stuff is, I can’t find most of mine. Today she showed me how rich she was, she pulled out a little plastic baggie that had strips of newspaper cut into dollar bill size strips, she had it all nicely wadded up as if it was a big wad of cash and proudly flipped through it showing me her money. I had brought her a beautiful lipstick, hairbrush (thank-you Arlene) and a nail file; she was impressed with it and thanked me and then quickly stashed it all in another little baggie and stuffed it in her pocket as if she was afraid someone would take it. I tried to tell her to try the lipstick but she just kept saying thank-you. We did however have a breakthrough of some kind, she allowed us to lay hands on her and pray, Frank (Baptist Pastor from the US) was even able to anoint her with oil. Up until today she had never allowed anyone to pray for her or even touch her. She even ended the prayer with a “thank-you God” I just sat beside her for a while after we had served lunch and she seemed more at peace, she wasn’t rambling on like last time. As I was sitting there I was silently praying for the holy Spirit to fill her and push out whatever was holding her captive, then out of no where she got really angry and started yelling and shaking her finger at everyone in the room...people that hadn’t even been paying attention to her, she turned to me and yelled and shook her finger angrily in my face, grabbed all her belongings and stomped out the door. Wow....I was completely dumb founded. There was a Spanish Pastor there today that also spoke English, when I asked him what she was saying he just said that she doesn’t make sense and that she is just crazy and to ignore her tantrums and that this was normal behaviour for her. How can I help this lady if I am ignoring her? Or do I ignore her but just keep coming so that she will come to realize that she can’t chase me away and that I really do care for her. (I’ll go with that until I come up with something better) She looks like such a beautiful young women and it’s just such a shame that her mind is such a mess. She didn’t go far; just as we were leaving she came back. The rest of the people seemed the same as last week, all sitting the same chairs staring at the floor only lifting their head to acknowledge me when I took their hand in mine to greet them. At least Otencia livens the place up a bit with her tantrums.
They were all excited because someone had donated some paint to paint the place, which is great because it really needs painting but I’m afraid they are just going to paint over the dirt and grim....more then it needs paint it needs a good cleaning first, if they cleaned it they might find that it doesn’t even need painting. Do I say something or not? I opted for not.

More Thoughts on living on the Island

It turns out it is not that expensive to furnish a house here, I was worried about having to buy a stove and fridge. I wandered through a Soriensa department store yesterday and found that I could buy a new stove for 1099.00 pesos (conversion link to the left of the page.....yes it’s there now) and a new fridge is just over 2000.00 pesos, so I’m thinking a used one would be even less. Lydia has stuff I could borrow like sheets and towels and etc, sooooo now I am really thinking about it. On the other hand I know the rent money I pay Lydia for staying at her house is going into her ministry on the Island. She told me that she had been praying for God to provide some way for her to be able to buy Christmas gifts for some of the kids out there that she knows will not be receiving gifts and my rent money came at perfect time. We’re going shopping next week to buy gifts.....and we’re going to make cookie bags for the parents.....yes we’re going to be baking up a storm this weekend. I’m so excited, this is when buying gifts is fun......this is what Christmas should be like (my opinion). I am so thankful to have this opportunity.

A Huge Dilemma

I had initially wanted to live on this Island instead of in the city; but I was advised that it would not be safe for a single woman to live alone there. While I am fairly comfortable living with Lydia there is still a tugging on my brain that I want to live on the Island. The school I teach at in Madero is a short bus ride from the docks, Casa Damasco is a short walk from the docks, my friends Barbara and Al, and my favourite coffee shop are all within walking distance from the docks....it just seems to make sense. While we were visiting there yesterday we met a lady that told us of a little apartment for rent on Island. (her daughter used to rent it) It is owned by a teacher, she has built a little apartment on the top floor of her house complete with a separate entrance. The place is totally fenced in making it very secure, and since she is living downstairs with her husband it is not like I would be totally alone. Everyone agreed that I would be completely safe there. The only downfall is that the only thing in it is a bed, no other furniture or even a stove or fridge...nothing, not a dish not a spoon. If it were furnished I would already be moving in. The rent is so cheap, 600 pesos a month.....and it is so cute, with a roof top patio.....I could even have a container garden up there. It’s a short walk from the docks, and a short walk to the most beautiful peaceful beach, and most yummy seafood restaurants. What to do...what to do? Lydia is also considering it because it would help her relationship with the people on the Island if she lived there, she would get to spend more time with them. If I take it and it works well for me she may rent it after I leave in May......great for her, I will have furnished it.

A Day on Stone Island

December 11, 2008 – Today I spent the whole day on Stone Island with Lydia. Stone Island is not really an Island it is a peninsula attached to Mazatlan, to get there by road is not easy, you have to drive all the way around the city to get to the road and it is assessable only by truck, a car would drown in the ruts, if it has rained you cannot get there at all. So you get back and forth by water taxi....little motor boats. The cost is 5 pesos each way and if you live there it’s even less. I’ve been coming here for a few years now because it is so quiet and peaceful, just a beautiful escape from the crowded city. The beach, in my opinion is much nicer than in the city, it’s wider and far less crowded. My visits to the Island have been limited to spending time lounging by the beach with a good book, eating delicious seafood from one of the many palapa restaurants that line the beach, taking a horseback tour through the coconut plantation....and then reluctantly heading back to the city. This time my visit was very different, I didn’t even see the big wide beach where I used to lounge. I was also given a little history today as to how the Island first started off....it was an Island in the beginning. The city of Mazatlan used the Island to store the unwanted people there, there was huge lepers colony, a mental institute, anyone with a disease that could spread, and instead of keeping the criminals in jail they send them to Stone Island. Many people that live there now are descendants of those people. This place is full of all kinds of horrible problems and not the tranquil peaceful place I have always thought it was. There’s a church for witches, they have a beautiful little church with pretty stained glass windows, if you didn’t know any better you would think it was a little catholic church. There are demonic people, people that are deemed mentally insane, there is drugs and alcohol abuse, so much sexual abuse and physical abuse. The beautiful setting (and it is beautiful) is a wonderful cover for the dirtiness. This had been Satan’s kingdom for many years......where do you begin the healing for these people?
I followed Lydia around as she did some home visits to people she has come to know over the years that need a kind word or just a hand to hold. Our first stop was an old lady that lives by herself in a tiny little shack, in the last 3 weeks she has started to slowly go deaf and blind and has extreme pain in her knees keeping her from leaving her house. Her family for some reason does not come to see her anymore. Since she can’t understand when you talk to her she seems to make things up and thus not making much sense most of the time, which may be the reason why her family is not coming to see her anymore. For example, this morning she told us that her son in law had come and cut the wires to her electricity because he did not wan to pay for it anymore (she has no means to pay for it) but when we talked to her daughter later in the day she said that there had been a short in wiring and being afraid it would cause a fire he had the electricity turned off until he could fix the short. ...a few misunderstanding like that could surely cause some friction in the family. She is afraid that the doctors don’t know how to bring back her eyesight and her hearing; she says the medication he gave her makes it worse. She told Lydia that every week she waits by the door for her, she doesn’t even take time to clean her house, she just sits and waits. She was very firm when she said “I don’t like a dirty house so you must come more often” (in Spanish of course). How lonely she must be. From there we move on to another lady who also cannot leave her house because she is very obese, which also just started happening not too long ago, the doctors can’t seem to figure out why she is just getting bigger and bigger, and of course angle and back pain. She had requested a bible which Lydia had brought for her (her birthday present from her son). She is also just a very lonely lady that just wants someone to come and visit and hold her hand. This is how we made our way through the Island, visiting one sad, lonely lady after another, each one that had raised many children and now sit by door alone hoping someone will stop by. This is not right. This reminds me of how important it is have a good, strong and most of all a forgiving relationship with my own child and with The Lord now so that when I am old and senile and perhaps a little difficult to be around (more so than now) my child will not abandon me and I can gain strength from the Lord. Our last visit was the most touching, a young lady that had been struggling with AIDS for the last 5 years, she is now confined to a bed and slowly deteriorating, I don’t think she weighed 65 lbs, could barely lift her arms and has to be fed and cleaned like a baby. She confessed today that she had a great fear of dying, her past had been very sinful and she was afraid for death to come. Lydia assured her that there was a way to insure she end up in Gods heavenly arms to live forever more in heaven, free of sin and free of AIDS. As we held her she gave her life to Christ and we continued to pray that she can hold on to that promise of everlasting life in heaven. Though this should now be a happy ending to the story it is not, as her husband also has AIDS it just hasn’t progressed as far yet and they have 2 small children who have not yet been tested (to our knowledge). Should these children by some miracle not have the disease, they will become orphans. This makes me ask “God, how could this possibly be your plan?”. Perhaps he knew this would be the only way she would accept Christ so she could be saved? What about the children, how is this for their good? I have many questions even though I know I am only supposed to have faith that God knows what he is doing and I don’t need to know the details.

A Funny Bus Story

I know eventually you are all going to get tired of hearing all about the wonderful bus system in Mazatlan, but I think I can get a couple more in before that happens. I had a meeting with the director of the English Teachers today downtown at a wonderful coffee shop that I will be visiting more often, but not too often as the coffee is 18 pesos...a little pricey for my budget. Anyway....when I finished I decided to have lunch on the beach, I hadn’t been to the beach yet at all...I know! I can’t believe it either. So I eat and sit on the beach and read a book for a bit and then decided to head home. So I do my whole “WalMart?” thing....I know! I should just memorize one sentence already...”is this the bus that goes to WalMart?” how hard can it be. He says “Si” I get on...off we go. Halfway there I decide to change my plans, about 2 blocks before we get to WalMart is an office supply store where Lydia suggested I buy a serge protector so that my laptop does not blow up, so I decide I will get off there. Remember a few posts ago I said that these bus drivers pay special attention to all their passengers and their needs? You thought I was being sarcastic right? The bus stops very close to the office supply store and I decide to get off, bus driver does not let me off...nope...he points up ahead and says “fhjsfhjsaWalMart” and points to the closest seat wanting me to sit down, and closes the door, so I sit down. We go a little further...just past the store, he stops to let some other people on and I try to get off again, and he says “fhjshfjshfhWalMart” and points up ahead again, by now I can see the big WalMart sign, I so desperately want to say “oh but wonderful man, I changed my mind, I want to buy a serge protector at the store we just passed” but I can’t.....by now a old man sitting in the front row has joined in and is also pointing to the seat wanting me to sit down and relax already...because we’re not there yet! ...I know that’s what he said. So I sit down....bus driver stops right in front of the main entrance and open the door, look at me and smiles and says “WalMart”. I smile and say “gracias” so now I don’t want the bus driver to see that I am not actually going into WalMart (I have no idea why that mattered to me) so I just stand there until I think he can’t see me anymore....(yeah, that looked so much better) From there I walked my 2 blocks to the store and back again....walking off my creama. ...it’s all good.

First Visit to Casa Damasco

Yesterday I met with some people that do some work at Casa Damasco (link on the left of the page) a wonderful couple from Canada, Bobby and Frank and another lady whose name I’ve forgotten and a local lady named Mariana. I had wanted to get my hands dirty while I was here and this seems like just the place, it is beyond dirty and so are the people. It is a drop in and drop off place for the people that have no where to go. Hospitals will drop patients off that are ready to be discharged but have no one to pick them up, police will drop off people that they don’t know what to do with. All of these people have some type of mental or physical disability and they all require constant care and attention. Today there were 11 people, 10 of which are permanent residents. They were all men except for 2 ladies, there is one teensy tiny little old lady that is 94 years old and is such a sweet heart, she grabbed me (has a good grip too) and covered me in kisses. I will usually back away from this type of affection but I had no choice, I’ll get used to it I’m sure. I’m not totally sure what her story is or why she’s there. The other lady is younger, hard to guess how old but I’d put her in her 40s. I’m told she is bipolar and schizophrenia, she sits by the door all the time with all her belongings packed, which mostly consists of crushed empty milk cartons that I have no idea what she plans on doing with. She wears a big black winter coat and long pants, apparently she does not make sense when she talks (not that I would notice....I don’t make sense either) She won’t let anyone touch her and will not move from her seat by the door. Just before we left she had a screaming fit and was talking very passionately about something, I asked Mariana what she was saying but she just hung her head and said “it’s just all very very bad things”. How can I help these people if I can’t even understand them? I can see this will be very frustrating for me. The rest are all men with various disabilities, a few that are deaf and mute, one missing a leg, another that had such a horrible infection that he may yet loose a leg, a few that just don’t comprehend or understand anything at all, they just sit in the same chairs day after day waiting for someone to bring them their meal and walk them to their cot at the end of the day. They have to be taken care of like small children. Makes me wonder if I will be in that condition some day, and if so, how would I want to be treated? What would make my long days more bearable? Do they have expectations even though their minds aren’t functioning?
I was told to just acknowledge them all, introduce myself and to touch them, these are people that no one wants to touch and they know that. Once they get to know me and trust me I can perhaps interact more with them.
We helped with lunch and served them their meal and cleaned up after wards. They have a wonderful couple that live there and have dedicated their life to take care of these people they must have come straight from heaven, they are giving and doing whatever they can but the whole place is filthy dirty and I feel that it doesn’t need to be that way. I would love to have the freedom in that house to scrub it down but I’m afraid they would be insulted by that. The dishrag that I attempted to wash the dishes with was so slimy it kept slipping out of my hand and it smelled very sour, could I at least bring new dishcloths I wonder? Or, could I offer to take theirs home to wash it (they have no hot water) and then loose it along the way somewhere. I think that’s the plan.

My hood at night

I went out a bit to early, it was just getting dark and some people hadn't plugged theirs in yet. There was also still men on the roofs putting more blow up things up (they love those here) I didn't want to look like such a complete tourist so I was sneaking pictures which is hard to do in the dark when your flash goes off. I think you get the idea....it's decked out big time (except for our house)

I'm getting really annoyed that I can't seem to choose where where my pictures land, I can't even line them up straight. If you click on them they get bigger, much much bigger and of course I don't know how to change that.

In search of a dead beheaded featherless chicken

I decide to cook supper for Lydia and I even though there is a palapa seafood restaurant right next door, I had supper there the day I arrived and it was really really good....eating there everyday would totally destroy my budget. They don’t open until 9am-ish which is normal for a lot of the Palapa places but I need coffee a little earlier than that. Lydia does not have a coffee maker; if I stay here much longer I will be buying her one. Anyway.....I went to the market yesterday to do some grocery shopping, I thought I’d buy some meat and some vegetables (Lydia informed me she does not like beans....how can you live here and not eat bean is beyond me) I go through my whole “Mercado?” routine to all the bus drivers. I wonder if they get annoyed by me flagging them down, making them stop in busy traffic and then not even getting on.....I don’t think so, they all seem so nice, I really wish I could understand all that “dhjhfsjdsdblah blah” they say as they drive away. I’m sure they’re just wishing me well. I get to the market with the help of an 80 year old lady sitting beside me on the bus. I head to the meat first, once I have meat I’ll know what I’m making. The beef looked a little complicated to work with, a whole cow was cut into about 8 big pieces, and it didn’t look too appetizing. I passed on the beef even though the beef guy was very persistent in trying to sell me some. I moved onto the chicken lady. She had chickens without heads or feathers; I was most pleased and bought a big chunk of chicken breast for 34 pesos (conversion link on the left). From there I wandered over to the vegetable stands and discovered that everything is sold by the kilo, being the great Canadian that I am I have no clue how much a kilo is (I looked it up as soon as I got home...I will be prepared next time) The Spanish that I have is useless to me when the people talk so fast with their heavy Spanish accent, I do know how to count, or I thought I did, they can understand me but I can’t understand them. This goes back to some of my other problems that I have; those of you that know me well are already saying “yes, Mary does not listen so well”. So......I need some cheese, have no idea how many kilos I want, the lady beside me is buy a piece that looks like the right amount for me as well, so I point to her cheese and give a thumbs up signal to the man. (As I’m writing this now I’m thinking how ridicules...thumbs up?!) At the vegetable stand it was a little more complicated, the normal procedure is that you tell the man how many kilos of tomatoes or whatever you want and he takes them and weighs them and puts them in bag and then you pay. So I just started gathering some tomatoes, carrots, onions, peppers, he didn’t seem to mind. I also found some garlic further along, bought some coconut for my yogurt in mornings. Aside from the chicken I can’t remember what this all costs me, next time I go I’ll write down what it cost just for curiosity’s sake. As I’m leaving the market I realize I forgot to buy soap, I had come to the market yesterday to buy soap and had also forgotten. I may have to visit WalMart yet, I’ve told to buy a serge protector, apparently the power of the electricity fluctuates a lot and can blow up my laptop...well, I don’t think it will actually blow up up but it does wreck your battery. This whole little shopping trip took me 2 hours; it’s the waiting for the bus thing that takes so long. There has to be a sheet of paper or something somewhere that tells you which bus goes where...I must find that information soon.
I cooked a very fast chicken stir-fry that was very tasty, garlic bread would have been nice but I hadn’t bought bread...if I have 2 hours to spare tomorrow I might go get some, and soap. Lydia said it was the healthiest meal she has had since she came to Mexico (4 years ago) I could tell she doesn’t cook much, all her cooking utensils were covered in dust when I pulled them out. I don’t mind being the cook, I love cooking and once I know how to talk in complete sentences I think I’ll make a lot of friends at the market. I have a sneaking suspicion that it is not cheaper to buy groceries than eating in restaurants though; I will however research this a little further. If I was in Canada I would seek a government grant to help fund this very important community economic study.

Once again my pictures are on top....isn't that chicken breast massive?

The new WalMart Girl

Mexicans have a habit of asking personal questions when they first met you, it’s a cultural thing. Every Mexican I’ve encountered in the last 3 days has asked me where I’m staying, assuming I’m at a hotel. When I tell them I’m staying with a friend they want to know where, I don’t want every person in Mazatlan to know where I live so I try to skirt around the question without being rude even though I feel they are the ones being rude by asking all these questions. What I would like to tell them is “Not that it is any of your business but I live in Santos Tomas, which is near the Walmart” but I can’t say all that in Spanish so I say “WalMart”. Yup, I’m the WalMart girl, just like in the movie, “Where the heart is” I Just haven’t stolen anything. If I don’t find my own apartment soon I may just go live there. Lydia got a lead on a place that might be available on Stone Island, which is where I wanted to live in the first place, we were going to check it out tonight but now she has to go to a funeral tonight. Not that I don’t mind staying at Lydia’s, she has a beautiful town house in a very upper class Mexican colonia, it’s very clean and safe, we leave the door open all the time. I mean open open not just unlocked. It’s decked out like Candy Cane Lane, people here love Christmas decorations on their roof, there are men on the roofs all day long hanging lights and putting up those blow up things.....lots of blow up things. (Must come from WalMart) It’s a nice place but I would like my own place, just because. Here are some pictures taken in the day, they unplug the blow ups during the day and then they deflate, I’ll get some more pictures in the evening when everything is lit up.

......ok, only one picture, click on it to make it bigger if you want, and it's on top of the page not here on the bottom where it was supposed to be, I have to figure out how this works but for now this will do. This is a lot of work by the way so I hope you all appreciate this. I know I have a lot of grammar and spelling errors but I don't have time to worry about that if I want this to stay up to date.

A new appriciation for bus drivers

So, I didn’t do any walking yet, I rode a lot of buses and I have learned some things. I have learned not to be intimidated by strangers, I know you’re thinking I’m this confident worldy traveler, not afraid of anything or anybody....well, truth is I have always been afraid of getting on a crowed bus and having to sit shoulder to should with total strangers. I never know what proper bus etiquette is, are you expected to greet and make conversation with your seat mate, or are people just wanting to get to work or home from work in some peace an quiet? They may have worked all day, or all night, they’re not all on vacation like me. Or is it rude to not introduce your self and make conversation? So I have always tried to sit in an empty row by my self and just minding my own business but today my business became other peoples business as well. I am after all like a 2 year old now, I cannot speak in full sentences (yet) and I don’t know which bus goes where and to make things even more complicated Lydia, whom I am staying with for now lives in a new colonia, it is so new nobody knows where it is. When I tell the bus drivers I want to go to Santos Tomas they look at me like I’m, well.....a moose or something. Luckily Santos Tomas is directly in front of Mazatlan’s newest and most prized landmark, Mazatlanecos are very proud of it, and make sure they tell you about it, which surprises me that Santos Tomas did not become famous when it was built, it is WalMart, yes we have a big new shiny WalMart, and I live right in front of it. When I get on a bus I ask the bus driver “WalMart?” in a question like tone, because I don’t how to say “is this bus going to WalMart?” When I was at the church this morning getting a bus to come home the bus had WalMart written in white marker on the window, most do have the destinations written on their window, this is most helpful to me, but not all do. That particular one must have disappeared into that hole where the good buses fall into when you never see them again. Later when I wanted to go from my house (WalMart) to the market to buy some groceries (I was planning on cooking supper) I waited and waited for a bus that had market written o n it but none did, so after a while I would ask the bus driver “merchado” in my question tone, finally a wonderful bus driver says “yes, Mercado” so I get on, find a seat in the middle of the bus by my self, trying to look out the window looking for familiar landmarks so I know where to get off. Finally the bus driver stops, turns around, looks right at me and points for me to get off.....how nice is that? I always thought bus drivers kinda drive in a daze, not remembering who gets on or off. Turns out they love their job, and pay attention to each and every passenger and their needs, I hope they have bus driver appreciation day here. So I finish at the market, shopping for my very first meal (tell ya about it later...I have pictures too) Now I need to get back to WalMart again, so again I wait for that bus that had WalMart written on the window, it doesn’t come, it’s still in the hole. So again I ask the bus drivers “WalMart” they say no, no, no, the whole time there’s a gentleman leaning against a wall beside me not saying a word or even looking at me, I thought he was asleep. Just when I thought all the buses in Mazatlan had passed me, which is impossible because there is a never ending supply of buses in Mexico, I don’t know where they all come from, but they just keep coming and coming, sleeping man wakes up and flags down a bus and asks the bus driver “blah blah blah ... ,blah WalMart” bus driver says “blah blah blah si WalMart” I’m thinking “this guy lives at WalMart too” he steps aside and ushers me on, and leans against his wall again, when I looked out window as we were driving away he was sleeping again. This time I sit beside a lovely lady but now I can’t see out the window, so I greet the lady “Buenos nochas, WalMart?” she smiles says “Buenos nochas, si WalMart” and lets me now when we get there. I love these people! Bus drivers are soon going to wonder why I am travelling back and forth from WalMart 8 times a day.

The Canadian moose arrives in Mazatlan

I arrived safe and sound in Mazatlan but certainly not without incident. My plane had come from Phoenix the night before and had sat at the Edmonton airport all night. We were idling down the runway when we suddenly stopped, for a very long time. Apparently there were some parts that were frozen even though the pilot told us he had started it early and let it warm up longer than usual but being a desert plane it could not deal with the cold....I can relate. So back to the gate where some mechanic did his magic but of course by then we had idled away 2 hours worth of fuel so we had to refuel and by now it was snowing and we had to de-ice, meanwhile I missed my connecting flight in Phoenix. So the airline put me on a later flight and I asked “has my luggage been informed of the flight change as well?” The lady said “don’t worry your luggage always follows you” hah.....it does.....but a day later. So I arrive wearing long black pants, a t-shirt that I’ve already worn for 2 days, wool socks in closed toe hiking sandals and a black hoody and a heavy knitted wool sweater that would keep an Eskimo quite toasty.....yup..I now have a new travelling rule (new to me) always have an extra change of clothes in your carry on. I know the experienced worldly travelers have been saying that to us newbi travelers forever...do I listen? noooo. I will now, it was 27C this morning at 9 am when my black pants and I were having breakfast.....and no, I did not race to the beach as I had planned, I would have looked like a retard.

The next morning after my favourite breakfast of huevos Mexicana (look it up, I’m not going to explain everything to you) and cafe con creama....yes real cream, none of this 2% or 10% or even 18%......100%, so good....hey, don’t be shaking your head at me and I know you’re imagining how cute I’ll look coming home...needing 2 seats to accommodate my creama lovin body, I can totally justify this, I walk lots and lots when I am here....well, not today or yesterday, but I will....soon. Anyway, after breakfast I stopped at the church where I will be doing some volunteer work to meet with the volunteer coordinator, Kathy. We decided I would head to Casa Damasco (link on the left of this page) with a lady named Bobbie tomorrow. I have agreed to help out there as much as I can, what exactly I will be doing there I will find out tomorrow. I pray that God will lead me and use me in some amazing way so that I can make a difference in these people’s lives. God will really have to talk to me in a very loud voice and lead me with a very heavy hand because I have no idea what I am doing or what I have gotten myself into. You all thought I left High Level with a plan, didn’t you, haha, I have no plan. (Except having cafe con creama every morning.)

While I’m at the church I need to use the bathroom, I could not use the toilet in the office because you need a bucket of water to flush the toilet and they were out of water so I go across the street to the church part (separate from the office) as I go into the bathroom stall I smash...yes smash, not hit, my head on the door. The Mexican people are for the most part shorter people and in the past they built their buildings accordingly, so most old building have lower doors that do not accommodate this Canadian moose very well, I had my sunglasses on top of my head which went flying into the .......oh you know where, the toilet. After I discovered that my head was in fact still intact, and I still had teeth, I proceeded with the unpleasant task ahead of me.....I couldn’t leave them there!

From there I head of to meet Jackie, the “champion” of the school that I will be teaching at. My champion is my “go to” person at the school. The FOM (link on the left of the page) sponsor 6 schools in Mazatlan, these are all schools that are located in poor colonias (neighbourhoods) of Mazatlan. Of the 6 one of them is located in Fransico Madero, known as the tolerance zone, this is a colonia where the local authorities look the other way at any criminal activity, they feel that if it stays in one area it will not seep into the rest of the city and it is working. The city of Mazatlan is for the most part, taking some normal precautions very safe, except for Franisco Madero. Guess who is the new grade 3 English teacher there...yup, me. I start on Thursday; I was given my curriculum and lessons today. Am I scared? Nope....I believe there is a reason why I was chosen to be there, I just hope that reason will be revealed to me soon....would be nice if it was before Thursday. I am comforted though, I am reading a great book (thank-you Pastor Ray) it’s called “Chasing Dragons”, it had been given to my friend Lydia 4 days before I got here, she hadn’t even read it yet, I spied it on her book shelf about 10 minutes after I walked in.....coincidence? Not! It’s all about trusting God in situations where you don’t have clue or a plan of any kind.....sound like some we know?