Mexico Index

The Rev. Dr. William Avery

The Rev. Dr. Maria Erling

Flying into Mexico City, I was amazed at how every inch of as far as I could see was developed.  The city was arranged in colorful right angles.  Buses and cars pushed through the streets.  The city had a pulse.  There were huge skyscrapers jetting into the sky and all of the big buildings had helicopter landing pads indicated by bright symbols on the roof.  I pictured Mexican businessmen in linen suits having a drug deal go wrong and ascending to the roof to slip away in a helicopter.  That’s when I paused and thought, wow, that was a gigantic stereotype; I have a lot to learn.

Upon easily sliding through customs in the Mexico City Airport, I walked into a new place, a new culture.  It looked familiar, like our cultures shared decorators, but there were profound differences in language, custom, environment and height.  My first intention was to be friendly to our southern neighbors by making eye contact with everyone and saying a genuine “hola.”  I later found out that that is the worst thing I could do with regard to men, since it is considered a come-on.  And being a light-haired, taller, very white female, I learned that I stuck out in this culture.  Being friendly was going to be harder than I thought.  But, as I learned, Mexico has more to worry about than appearing friendly…most of its people are living to survive.

Mexico has its fair share of problems – oppressively colonized roots, the highest pollution index in the world, crooked politicians and police figures, and 70% of the population in poverty.  Mexico’s informal economy alone comprises two-thirds of the people, and these are the folks who are barely earning enough to live.  For instance, a boy we met in La Estacion sells assorted gum and candy on the street to support a family of four.  This is the reality of life for many people.  There is not shame in begging, but survival.  Skilled men wait in the parks to be picked up for odd jobs.  There is no job security, pension plan or health care for them, just survival.  After being introduced to the surviving reality that most Mexicans live everyday, I realized that this was a culture that lived their pain in art, who could not hide such poverty through averaged-out statistics and who had much to tell me about my involvement in their struggles.

            The first thing I notice in a new place is the surrounding environment.  With 25 million people and 4.5 million cars on the highway in Mexico City[i], the results of combustion and waste have produced the highest pollution index in the world.  So much emphasis was put on the elite to obtain cars, that the public transportation system was largely ignored.  Luckily though, some buses were spotted that were fuel efficient.  The water is laced with dysentery, cholera and other devastating diseases, making the residents rely on acidic rainwater, bottled water or sugar-infused cola drinks instead of water for consumption.  Not only is the water undrinkable, but the produce sold by street vendors is largely inedible due to not being able to properly wash it. 

These conditions understandably lead to malnutrition.  In fact, 1/3 of children suffer from anemia and malnutrition.  Kids are further at risk from the severe amount of lead in the air.  Chrysler employers in Mexico City do not allow their employees’ children to live in Mexico City because the lead produces developmental defects in growing children.  The population growth rate is said to have leveled off, but, in the past 25 years, the population of Mexico City has doubled.  The result of this population explosion has lead to increased shantytowns in the hills and mountains surrounding the city, the need for more jobs and more general wear on the land.  Continued development on highly sloped surfaces increases the amount of erosion on the land, leading to possible mudslides/flooding during the rainy season.  But, why do people have to live like this and agree to it?

Many reasons, but one way the government has tried to “win” over the people is through entertainment.   Cable and electricity are available to the masses while the government turns their head the other way to ignore the peoples’ electricity-getting means.  For instance, the people who took me in for my home stay could not boast a lavish house, or even nutritional food, yet they had two DVD players, multiple DVDs and a huge flat-screen television.  Soap operas ran constantly depicting the family and romantic drama that all people experience and can relate to without regard to class.  But, Sanda de Gloria, a soap opera depicting Mexico’s history was ripped from the airways because the government did not want the public at large to be informed about Mexican history.  We watched television all afternoon and not once saw a factual news program.  Ross Gandy called this government controlled television, “the mind of the people.”  And, unfortunately, this “mind” is very heavily influenced by media in the United States.  The very poor in Mexico are being shown that they should be like the middle class in the United States.

But, feeling like Mexicans cannot be themselves to be worthy is no new feeling.   Latin America’s history is filled with accounts of foreign oppression, revolution, fights for land reform, and evil-induced instances of torture, murder and human rights abuses.  All of this influences the mindscape of what it is to be Mexican, and it keeps most Mexicans from questioning the government or the church for their plight in life.  By reflecting on the political and economic shortcomings of Mexico, it is easy to understand why most Mexicans may feel “stuck” in their marginalized position. 

 The number one export for Mexico is their people.  Immigration to the U.S. is seen by many as a way out, and it is – especially since the daily minimum wage in Mexico is 45 pesos a day or $4US.  This is 1/10 of the daily minimum wage in the United States.  The Mexican daily minimum wage is disgraceful, and systematically keeps people in a place of poverty.  But, this state of affairs is not the sole responsibility of the Mexican economic policy.  It is Mexico’s only response to NAFTA.  Maquiladoras, factories owned by multinational corporations based in Mexico, offer work for Mexicans at wages lower than minimum wage, and can abuse its work force because it is offering jobs to people desperate to work.  And the stereotype of Mexicans sitting on a curbside all day in a drunk stupor with a sombrero could not be further from the truth, especially after meeting my first host family in Ajusco, each of which are dedicated to their work.

Mexican laborers near the boarder, in short, do the work that people in the United States do not want to do, whether it is working in assembling factories or agricultural work in the U.S. on a work visa.  The multinational corporations, because of free trade, can base their businesses in economically depressed areas, exploit the low wages and lax environmental laws, and not even have to pay taxes for the most part.  Mexico has welcomed foreign capital, because its hands were bound to accept neoliberal free enterprise as a means to survive and not be labeled Marxist by U.S. standards.  Not allowing for nationalistic industrialization or self-sufficient agricultural has led to the Zapatista movement protesting neoliberal policy in Latin America.  The neoliberal system has mostly benefited the middle class consumers and the extremely rich, with the rich often having political ties to allow for such a system to continue.

In the majority of our lectures and interviews with organizations highlighting the problems and inequalities people face living in Mexico, it seemed as if the foundation of all problems are not political or economic, but ethical.  One rising politician working for the cause of the poor, Mexico City Mayor Andres Manuel Lopez Obrador, has the majority vote for Mexico’s 2005 presidential race.  Yet Mexican history predicts he will most likely have an “accident” before the PRI or PAN parties would ever allow a populist president.  We also heard the stories about how the police show up at houses in Ajusco only if somebody has already been killed, and therefore the neighborhood takes the responsibility of keeping the peace.  Some police officers are expected to accept bribes, which goes to their salary and also to their chief. 

Where does it end, and who can be held accountable?  Even the people whose job it is to make life better for all people can and have made ethically poor decisions.  Sometimes the “system” even mandates that, and sometimes I contribute to that system.

I took advanced history courses in high school, and was a history minor in college, yet Latin American history was never a required area of study.  So, hearing about some of the atrocities that have happened from a Latin American perspective was eye-opening and bothersome.  It was like one of our articles said talking about parts of our unconscious or sheltered cultures, “Some of us go through life like a fish in the stream and never know that we are living in water.”[ii]  I never knew how involved the United States was and is in nearly all of Latin American’s political uprisings; training and arming proxy forces to “put down” rebels or guerillas.  The small blurbs of news I would hear always made these “guerillas” out to be unreasonable, devil-possessed, animal-like warriors who wanted to cause problems.  But, after reading about the Peronists, Montoneros, and other guerilla groups, these “guerillas” were only trying to make life better for those around them in the only way they knew how.  Certainly, taking up arms is not the way to solve problems, but I can understand their impassioned actions in response to an armed government violating human rights.

The banner many guerillas were fighting under was that of communism or Marxism…and those seem to be two words that are programmed into United States citizens to make them shiver and scowl.  I didn’t even live through the “Red Scare” and I feel uncomfortable talking about communism, despite my U.S. citizen free speech rights. The United States clearly worked from a foreign policy grounded in fear rather than a foreign policy of the Gospel, or even ethics, if we’re not feeling religious, in response to the conflicts in Latin America.   Looking into and studying the pure forms of Marxism, however impossible in reality, seems to be something many Latin Americans hope “capitalphilic” foreigners would do.  I used to think that I had to travel to the most desperate people in the most desperate places to make a difference in my future ministry, but I am realizing that effecting transformative change in my power-player neighbors can play a bigger role in God’s mission than me smacking a band-aid on someone in Ethiopia.

I have reflected on the top ten ways for a country and global economy to marginalize the majority of Mexican people, and the frustrating part is that little hope can be seen for great change.  With AMEXTRA, 5 million people in labor unions, Christian Based Communities, open communion for our group at the Catholic San Pedro Martir Parish and the rich indigenous history shown through the arts, hope IS possible for some people.  And this “for some” part bothers me. 

Why can some folks in Mexico live so well, while others suffer daily with malnutrition, abuse, hopelessness and disease?  I outlined some of the more concrete reasons above, but theologically, why would God allow such things?  I thought about this question a lot on the trip, especially after watching The Mission, Romero, and seeing La Estacion.  My mind reverted back to the answers I have been told or I have told other people – free will, God is working through us, find God’s love in a broken world.  But none of that helped.  Here is a not-so-eloquent passage from my journal,

“People have been being terrible to one another forever and it can be attributed to sin and brokenness.  Jesus came to save us from sin, but not to end sin in the world.  For some reason, God entrusted us with this ability…AKA, never gonna happen because sin is ingrained.  So, should I even care that these terrible things are happening in the world since there is no hope that the wretchedness on earth will ever end before God comes again?  We can listen to as many lectures as we want, with all the hope a soul can swim in, but, in short, some aspects of life are just going to suck…indefinitely.”

            The fact that God did not completely restore earth with Jesus says a lot about how God works, and what is expected of us as people of God.  It did not take a trip to Mexico City to see that people suffer, nor am I suggesting that Mexico is a more broken section of God’s world.  But the natural response to seeing children digging through a dumpster for food and living conditions that break every health code in the United States is to ask, “what can be done?”  Providing a fluffy life for everyone does not seem to be one of God’s goals.  Rather, working through relationships and love is a universal way God’s presence has been experienced, even in the direst situations.  Andrea from La Estacion lived in absolute poverty, yet she had the love of a husband, five children and her neighbors. 

When I think about the best times in my life, they always involve people.  I can’t remember what I wore, or ate or drove or bought, but I remember the talks, the goofy smiles, my first kiss, the comfort of another in sad times, and knowing that I am with another child of God.  These are the things that poverty or marginalization can never take away.  I am not trying to downplay the terrible realities that some folks must live through, but I needed to see that Andrea has friends and love and hope.  In other words, God is there.  Perhaps she is living more richly in those gifts than many financially rich people.

I participated in and listened to many a discussion on how to “solve” the problems people face in Mexico.  Would people in poverty even want to change what they know and have grown up in?  Is life easier and more fulfilling with less “things?”  Does having an excess of things break down community and the ability to lean on one another for what we lack?  Are the poor really more blessed?  We argued, looked at each side of the arguments and ended up even more bogged down in circuitous routes of thought than before.  What I didn’t realize at this point was that I was doing exactly what I should have been doing – seeing, experiencing, feeling bothered, feeling guilty, processing, applying…in short, I was being transformed.      

The point of the Mexico Immersion experience, as I understand it, is to aid in the process of personal transformation, so that one can transform the people and places they come in contact with.  Part of this transformation was to experience poverty or being a marginalized person with your whole person.  The leaders at AMEXTRA referred to the Romans 12 passage where Paul writes, “Therefore I exhort you, brothers and sisters, by the mercies of God, to present your bodies as a sacrifice – alive, holy and pleasing to God – which is your reasonable service.  Do not be conformed to this world, but be transformed by the renewing of your mind, so that you may test and approve what is the will of God – what is good and well-pleasing and perfect.”[iii]  So experiencing the hunger, the cold, the sadness and the joy of poverty was critical in understanding this social condition.  With every facet of my body, I could share in poverty for brief moments.  And once I could see myself in that position, I knew my mind would reference these transforming feelings when making decisions in the future.

  I am now living my middle class life in a rich country that is sometimes looked to in hope, or sometimes hated, and I feel guilty and blessed at the same time for how I live in relation to those who we met in Mexico.  Seeing such poverty triggered a response of, “that could be me!”  And while I do not suffer social injustice in my own life as 70% of Mexico does, the idea that such things exist affects me as one who shares in the body of Christ.

When the tsunami hit, for instance, it obviously devastated the hit area, but it also devastated the psyche of the world.  It showed that mass destruction is possible in God’s world and everyone needed to be assured that only God is ultimate, not an earthquake.  Likewise, social injustice devastates a particular area, but it also devastates the psyche of the world, simply from the fact that it is possible.  Paul talks about this in relation to the one body in Christ, “If one member suffers, all suffer together with it.”[iv]

And here enters our transformative call for life in the world.  An ELCA social statement calls us “a people set free for the work of reconciliation.”[v]  Not just reconciliation in race or poverty, but reconciliation for all brokenness and destruction.  All of the problems that I have cited above need reconciliation, and many groups and organizations are already working to reconcile. 

One might say the task of reconciling all the brokenness in the world seems daunting, even for the Church.  Archbishop Oscar Romero would remind us that this is but the large vision, and that “we accomplish in our lifetime only a tiny fraction of the magnificent enterprise that is God’s work.”[vi]  Yet there is transformative and liberating power in realizing the needs of others and feeling moved to respond to God’s work in the world. 

            So how has this experience changed me?  It’s given a name and a heartbeat to the people I intentionally did not pay attention to because I was afraid they would take up too much of my time with their problems, or else try to rob me or hurt me.  I have seen the marginalized in Pennsylvania and have averted my eyes.  I have wanted to help in soup kitchens or simply say “Good Morning” to someone on the street, but fear won out.  I am called to be a minister and yet have avoided those to whom I could minister and learn from.  I do not think this trip has inspired me to lead a grass-roots movement for human rights in Mexico, but it has inspired me to want to know people better, all kinds of people.  By living within a lifestyle in which my needs are sufficiently met, I have not made room to hear how others may be struggling.  It is my hope to engage varied people in conversation, not to offer hand-outs or advice, but to reconcile my own judgments and fears with the recognition of common humanity.  It’s a small step, but Romero says that’s okay.