Pagan Crosses

Among the elements, church walls, dimming sun, wind blown shurbs, softening rain........Accompanied by colorful music and smacking feet: people dance through the city streets and honor their faith, their solidarity, their love for what a roboso wrapped baby or a song or a cross represents. In the light of christ and god alike: both nurshed by mother's milk. In the peace of calm-identity and within the force of unity, life is honored with a pagan cross.

July 5th in Oaxaca

Today, election day. Folks in the street, fireworks, and movement everywhere. This coming week will mark my third week volunteering with COMI: El Centro de Orientacion de Migrantes de Oaxaca. This past week, we had 9 migrants arrive...from El Salvador, Honduras and Nicaragua. All heading north in search of economic stability and a way to support their families that depend on them. One of the 9 is a young women, five months pregnant. Her plan is to risk travel to the border of MX (hoping to avoid the kidnappers, theives, migration and currupt police on the way) and then walk three days to the other side. Keep Carol in your hearts.

Oaxaca

Place

Finding place while traveling surely comes from finding place in yourself . This has been my struggle. After spending a few days in the state of Mexico and then one night over in Mexico City, I arrived to the state of Oaxaca, in the southern part of MX. Among the popular face of artisons crafts, mountainous landscapes and of course the famous moles and chocolates...I took a few days to really figure out why it was that I ended up in the city. Originally destined for a WWOOFer farm about 1-2 hr away, I fled early the morning after arrival due to the unkept, unhospitable and very gringo environment. Arriving in Oaxaca (almost two weeks ago now) I eventually found an organization run my Mary Knoll Lay folks named COMI that assists migrants coming from Central America up north to pursue better economic possibilities elsewhere. I realize now that working within a community whose primary goal it is to raise awareness about migration within Mexicowill serve to broaden my perspective on immigration work after arriving back home. As a good friend of mine likes to remind people, immigration is a natural phenomenom..........when in doubt, just ask the butterflies.

Fruit-abundance

From the State of MX to Oaxaca

After a week in Cuernavaca, a flurry of travel insued - first to the St. of MX to see a dear family there and renew my senses with cool, mountian air. The hills there are covered with a unexpected mix of both magayes and captus as well as fruit trees that i´d find at home. Apples, peaches, pears for thirst, and cherry like red berries. In the morning, the horizon looks almost like Swannanoa - thick mist sits curvey on the mountian tops, waiting for the sun to send it on it´s way. During the day, it gets just hot enough for clothes to dry on roof tops and then it cools off at night so that women can sit by their patio fires and makes tortillas at ease.