I am currently in the Detroit airport awaiting my final flight back to Pittsburgh. Hence, my time in Chiapas has come to a close. This week flew by, as did the summer as a whole.
Saturday night, I said goodbye to Sebastian after we all ate dinner together with the group. This was by far the hardest goodbye of the summer, as Sebastian has been a great friend to me this summer and has looked out for me. He has helped me practice my Spanish and has taught me how to be Chiapenca. We hugged and he stuttered in English, “Thank you for your friendship.” As I was walking back to my house with tears in my eyes, I realized that I had accomplished here what I set out to do. I was a friend to people this summer, and I had become fully embraced in the brotherhood and sisterhood of Chiapas. The difficulties of the goodbyes for all of us was evidence to me that my summer had achieved its purpose.
Hence, the struggle this week was dealing with the post-mission depression. I thought that it would hit when I came home, but rather it came as my month of missions concluded and I left Ch’ixtontic. It is hard to leave the heaven-on-earth experience of being deep in a pile of concrete with my Tzeltal brothers and sisters, surrounded by the simplicity, kindness, and joy of their lifestyle. Every year that I leave it I question, “Was that real? Did that actually just happen?”Because it is so unique from anything else I have ever experienced that it seems more like a dream than a reality.
I was thankful to have one final opportunity to worship with the Tzeltal people on Sunday. Pablo was preaching at a church in San Cristóbal that is basically an indigenous community in the midst of the city. I wore my traditional skirt and fit right in with the Tzeltal women of the church, even though I didn’t understand a word of the service (Tzeltal is incredibly different from Spanish). We all ate together after the service, and the people of the church joked with Pablo about finding me a husband (though I don’t really think they were joking). I have the traditional dress, I can make tortillas, and I can carry botes of concrete on my shoulder; hence, I am “ready” to get married here.
On Sunday afternoon, Mariana and Ricardo surprised me by taking me to a popular tourist destination near San Cristóbal that has a zipline and a show cave. They didn’t want to do the zipline themselves, but they enjoyed watching me do it. It was a highlight of the week.
I then had classes Monday through Thursday. Since I only did four days, I had 7.5 hours of classes each day, which was fairly intense. It was a productive week of practicing all of the grammar and expanding my vocabulary. It was also cool to reflect on how much I have learned this summer.
There were two other students staying with Mariana and Ricardo this week, so one particular aspect of the week that I enjoyed was getting to know them. One of them is studying medicine and has been volunteering at a burn clinic in San Cristóbal every afternoon after her Spanish classes. She had some interesting stories from her experiences to share.
Then today I began the long journey back home, starting at 3:00am, when I was taken to the airport in Tuxtla Gutiérrez. From Tuxtla to Mexico City, Mexico City to Detroit, through customs and security once again, and now finally from Detroit to Pittsburgh, I return from this incredible journey that has truly been an adventure. I return wearing my traditional Mexican dress because I want to remain Chiapenca as I step back into the land that now seems so foreign to me, so far from the tortilla-making, concrete-mixing, cattle-truck-riding, hymn-singing jungle life that I have become a member of this summer. To the Tzeltal people of Chiapas, “Namaste.” I see God’s Spirit in you.
I plan to make one final post when I return with overall reflections from the summer, so stay tuned.
Saturday night, I said goodbye to Sebastian after we all ate dinner together with the group. This was by far the hardest goodbye of the summer, as Sebastian has been a great friend to me this summer and has looked out for me. He has helped me practice my Spanish and has taught me how to be Chiapenca. We hugged and he stuttered in English, “Thank you for your friendship.” As I was walking back to my house with tears in my eyes, I realized that I had accomplished here what I set out to do. I was a friend to people this summer, and I had become fully embraced in the brotherhood and sisterhood of Chiapas. The difficulties of the goodbyes for all of us was evidence to me that my summer had achieved its purpose.
Hence, the struggle this week was dealing with the post-mission depression. I thought that it would hit when I came home, but rather it came as my month of missions concluded and I left Ch’ixtontic. It is hard to leave the heaven-on-earth experience of being deep in a pile of concrete with my Tzeltal brothers and sisters, surrounded by the simplicity, kindness, and joy of their lifestyle. Every year that I leave it I question, “Was that real? Did that actually just happen?”Because it is so unique from anything else I have ever experienced that it seems more like a dream than a reality.
I was thankful to have one final opportunity to worship with the Tzeltal people on Sunday. Pablo was preaching at a church in San Cristóbal that is basically an indigenous community in the midst of the city. I wore my traditional skirt and fit right in with the Tzeltal women of the church, even though I didn’t understand a word of the service (Tzeltal is incredibly different from Spanish). We all ate together after the service, and the people of the church joked with Pablo about finding me a husband (though I don’t really think they were joking). I have the traditional dress, I can make tortillas, and I can carry botes of concrete on my shoulder; hence, I am “ready” to get married here.
On Sunday afternoon, Mariana and Ricardo surprised me by taking me to a popular tourist destination near San Cristóbal that has a zipline and a show cave. They didn’t want to do the zipline themselves, but they enjoyed watching me do it. It was a highlight of the week.
I then had classes Monday through Thursday. Since I only did four days, I had 7.5 hours of classes each day, which was fairly intense. It was a productive week of practicing all of the grammar and expanding my vocabulary. It was also cool to reflect on how much I have learned this summer.
There were two other students staying with Mariana and Ricardo this week, so one particular aspect of the week that I enjoyed was getting to know them. One of them is studying medicine and has been volunteering at a burn clinic in San Cristóbal every afternoon after her Spanish classes. She had some interesting stories from her experiences to share.
Then today I began the long journey back home, starting at 3:00am, when I was taken to the airport in Tuxtla Gutiérrez. From Tuxtla to Mexico City, Mexico City to Detroit, through customs and security once again, and now finally from Detroit to Pittsburgh, I return from this incredible journey that has truly been an adventure. I return wearing my traditional Mexican dress because I want to remain Chiapenca as I step back into the land that now seems so foreign to me, so far from the tortilla-making, concrete-mixing, cattle-truck-riding, hymn-singing jungle life that I have become a member of this summer. To the Tzeltal people of Chiapas, “Namaste.” I see God’s Spirit in you.
I plan to make one final post when I return with overall reflections from the summer, so stay tuned.
The traditional dress; image from https://m.facebook.com/First-Presbyterian-Church-of-Virginia-Beach-116407981721248/
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