Mexico Index

The Rev. Dr. William Avery

The Rev. Dr. Maria Erling

Mexico J-term Reflection
January 2005
Emily J. Hollars

            Nearly one month ago, I embarked on a journey to Mexico full of excitement and enthusiasm.  I was excited to finally have the opportunity to see sights about which I had read, and to “experience the culture,” whatever that meant to me at the time.  I felt confident about this journey—confident because I knew I could hold my own with respect to my Spanish language skills; confident because I had studied Latin American culture in the past; and confident because I knew the severity of Mexico’s social situation.  And then, on January 5, 2005, I set my eyes on Mexico City, replete with its twenty five million people, its smog, its thin air, its tiny sewage pipes, and its lack of indoor heating, and I panicked.  Immediately I began to contemplate the dilemma that I faced—the dilemma of being suspended in time and thought between all that I knew and valued from my life in the states, and the realities of social, political, and economic injustice that were making themselves ever more apparent the longer I spent in Mexico City.  Every ounce of confidence I had brought with me on the airplane from the United States was lost baggage as far as I was concerned. 

            In the midst of my insecurity, I was reminded of the gospel of Mark and the images of persons who are blind being made to see.    In the early days of the trip, I felt like a person without sight, who could not see.  It was extremely frustrating for me because I knew I couldn’t see and felt like I should be able to, my eyes were open, after all.  I looked around and all I was able to see was how things were different in Mexico than at home.  I saw poverty, injustice, oppression, dirt, smog and the list goes on.  I was hardly able to enjoy myself because at this point, I was still asking myself, “Where is Jesus in this place?  How am I supposed to see Him with all of this other ‘stuff’ all around me?  This is NOT the point of this trip!”

            I remember the moment when my sight began to reveal to me God’s presence in the midst of all of the negative things I had seen or experienced.  Standing inside of the Palacio Nacional in Mexico City, I was studying Diego Rivera’s fine murals—the color he used, the flowing lines of his painting, the movement within the art, the history that was being portrayed in the images and I was in awe.  It was at that moment that I realized how close I was standing to such a fine piece of work.  At that range, I was able to see the individual brush strokes on the wall.  I could see the imperfections in the lines—the places where Rivera’s hand was less than perfectly steady.  I was able to see the places where mistakes had been made and were then covered up by other layers of paint.  In spite of these imperfections, however, I was still able to step back and admire the beauty of the whole work, without being distracted by the errors and flaws.  I was able to accept that these things contributed to the character of the murals: that it was a package deal, the good along with the bad. 

            James A. Banks, in an excerpt from his work entitled, Multiethnic Education: theory and practice says that “Cultures are also systems; they must be viewed as wholes, not as discrete and isolated parts.”  This was the root of my problem.  I was only looking at the discrete and isolated parts of the Mexican culture—those things that caused me the most discomfort or inconvenience.  My personal challenge would be to view the culture as a whole, the same way I viewed Diego Rivera’s murals that day in Mexico City, without focusing on the flaws, but appreciating them for their role as part of the overall work, solitary contributors to the finished masterpiece. 

Furthermore, while I was studying Rivera’s work, I was struck by his ability to create something out of nothing, using blank wall space and paint to create a pictorial history of Mexico for people from all over the world to appreciate.  I was in awe of the scale of the project as I thought about the time and dedication that must have gone into its creation.  I was impressed by the artist’s creativity, vision, and obvious ability to merge the two in a way that captured a people, a history, and a sentiment that people throughout time and from across the globe could appreciate and from which they could learn.  As I contemplated all of these things, it occurred to me that it had been a very long time since I had experienced God’s creation the way I was experiencing Rivera’s creation—through eyes of acceptance, wonder, and respect. 

From that point on, I vowed to myself that I would experience Mexico with those same appreciative, accepting, and wonderful eyes.  What a difference that paradigm shift made for the remainder of the trip!   On the night of our first home stay, I was at first shocked to see that there was no running water in the house and that the only indoor plumbing was to the toilet.  As I felt myself slipping back into the negative mindset, I said a quick prayer that my heart and mind be opened to see what it was that God wanted me to see in this experience.  As I relaxed, I was overwhelmed by the outpouring of love and generosity that the family lavished upon me and upon each other.  I was humbled by the graciousness of their welcome and their willingness to share the little that they had with us.  I was reassured by their patience with my Spanish language skills as I struggled to recall all that I had forgotten in the years since I had studied the language in college.  I was inspired by their enthusiasm to share with me all that they found important in their lives.  That evening we ate a wonderful meal, shared stories and laughter as we learned about each others’ families while looking at photographs, and found that despite the differences that may have existed between us, we had much in common; a love of family, a love of God, and a curiosity and respect for each other. 

Looking back on this experience, one of the things that strikes me about it is that for the first time, all of the once-distracting imperfections in the picture that was Mexico suddenly had names and faces and a story.  No longer were there poor people in Mexico; there was the Fernandez family.  No longer was there no heat; there was the Fernandez’s home that didn’t have heat.  No longer was there a plumbing problem in Mexico City; the Fernandez’s family had no place to wash their dishes, brush their teeth, or take a shower.  No longer was there smog and thin air problem; there were the people of Ajusco who had to face this reality in their daily lives, praying that their families would remain healthy in spite of the poor conditions.  No longer was there overcrowding in the city; there were people who were lucky to have roofs over their heads. 

After a lecture from a UNAM professor on the socio-political-economic situation in Mexico as it relates to other countries in the world, I was beginning to have a broader understanding of the issues and concerns that the average person must face each and every day in Mexico.  I was shocked to learn that the Mexican economy is supported by a mere twenty percent of the population—a minority middle class who hold taxable jobs and who because of their taxable jobs also make enough money to patronize the commercial economy, while the ten percent of people who are wealthy contribute very little, if anything at all to the economy because they are not taxed, and the remaining seventy percent of people are really of no value to the country’s economy at all.  I was even more shocked to realize that because this seventy percent is of little or no value to the economy, they are more often than not overlooked or ignored in matters of economics and for that matter, most aspects of life in general. 

            At the end of this lecture, I was overwhelmed by a desire to do something about the social injustice of which we had just learned.  All sorts of thoughts passed through my head about how barbaric and antiquated the understanding of human rights was in this country.  At one point I even thought how appropriate it is that Mexico is labeled a third-world country because only in third world countries are people treated as subhuman or ignored altogether.  And then, I caught myself as I realized that once again I was caught up in the details, forgetting to look at the larger picture.  There is an extensive history that has brought Mexico to the place it is today.  This history has many players who have each made contributions to the current situation.  In order to understand the current situation, one must understand the past.  Once one understands the past, then one is able to look at and assess the present situations with a plan to effect change. 

            Ross Gandy provided us with a brief political history of Mexico that raised many socio-economic issues of concern, primarily issues related to the effect of industrialization and globalization on the Mexican economy.  He emphasized the incongruity between what the country has versus what the country needs.  A simple example is that of transportation in Mexico City.  The wealthiest thirty percent of people in Mexico have their own vehicles.  The remaining seventy percent of people are resigned to using public transportation to get from place to place.  This sounds like the perfect scenario, but the reality of the situation is that no one can get anywhere because those who drive their own vehicles are always caught in traffic jams and the remaining seventy percent are unable to get around town because the public transit system is much too overcrowded to accommodate the twenty one million people who make use of it on a daily basis.  In all aspects of daily life, Mexicans are caught between a rock and a hard place between what they have and its effectiveness in meeting the needs of the people. 

            Patricia Contreras spoke with us about the role the Virgin of Guadalupe plays in contemporary Mexican culture, specifically with respect to women in Mexico.  I was surprised to learn how highly valued the role of mother is in Mexican culture as a result of the importance of the Virgin in society.  The Virgin’s image is reflected in all things female.  This explains the importance of being a mother.  The Virgin herself was a mother and so all women should aspire to be like her, enduring pregnancy whether it is wanted or unwanted, planned or unplanned, because the Virgin endured her own such pregnancy, accepting it with love and raising the child as was her duty and her command.  This model gives permission for single motherhood because the Virgin was an unwed mother. 

            In my opinion, this model does much more than provide an example of what it means to be a dedicated parent.  On the contrary, it provides an example of how women are to endure the various abuses that they encounter in their lives including rape, subservience, and possibly even sexual promiscuity.  To me, these images are not ones to be emulated by any woman because they debase a woman’s importance and sense of self-worth as her value is inextricably linked to her role as mother and caregiver.  This was yet another major hurdle that I had to overcome in my journey to understanding and appreciating the entire tapestry that is Mexican culture.  Clearly it is as Banks says, “Values influence behavior and also how people perceive their environment” (76). 

            Ben Davis gave a talk on labor issues, stressing the point that there are many contributing factors to the current employment situation in Mexico.  He highlighted the issue of outsourcing in countries like the United States, where companies know they can buy cheap labor in countries like Mexico.  He spoke of the issue of immigration and how the number of people leaving Mexico every year increases due to the 10:1 wage gap between the United States and Mexico; people leave Mexico because they know that they will be better paid to do the same job in the United States.  The final topic that Mr. Davis addressed was that of Labor Unions in Mexico and the role they play in the current socio-economic situation of Mexico. In Mexico, labor unions do not serve as representatives of the workers.  Rather, they serve as business negotiators for corporations—as liaisons between Mexican companies and the companies that hire them for the purpose of outsourcing.  Because the interest of the labor unions is the companies and not the employees, wages are kept low as a bargaining and negotiating tactic.  Employees have no rights as far as the labor unions are concerned, and often are not even notified that there is a labor union nor are they given information about the protections of that the labor union can provide.  In this way, the labor unions are able to keep the workers under control using passive force. 

 *     *     *

            We were told by Lutheran pastor, José Alacántara that the goal of Lutheran workers in Mexico is transformation; it is from the desire to facilitate transformation that programs like AMEXTRA have been established and have taken root in Mexico in the last thirty years.  It is from the desire of the church to facilitate the transformation of its leaders and my own desire to be transformed that I arrived in Mexico City to learn—to be transformed from one who was blind to one who could see.  But seeing simply isn’t enough. 

            On our last day in Mexico we were challenged to think of ways to facilitate others’ transformation upon our arrival in the United States.  I must admit, that at the time, this task seemed daunting as I was still overwhelmed by the events of the previous two weeks and all that I had learned.  To me, the problem—the whole problem—seemed so much bigger than me.  If years of trying hadn’t fixed the problem, how could I? 

            The flight home to the U.S. provided me the distance and time I needed to contemplate this question.  In a moment of silence and reflection, I was reminded of a simple command that is found throughout the Bible, “Go…tell.”  It was then that I realized how short-sighted I had been (once again).  I was so concerned about what I should do or could do, that I never gave a thought to what we should or could do as a group. 

The Evangelical Lutheran Church in America affirms that "the Church is a people created by God in Christ, empowered by the Holy Spirit, called and sent to bear witness to God's creative, redeeming, and sanctifying activity in the world" (ELCA Constitution, 4.01).  The ELCA’s Visions and Expectations states the following, “The testimony of these acts of God's grace and forgiveness is expressed in both word and deed by ordained ministers through compassion, hospitality, patience, and forgiveness; through seeking peace and justice for all people; through care for God's creation; and through sharing one's faith through preaching, teaching, and personal witness.”  We are called to be compassionate peacemakers who seek justice in all we do.  Furthermore, we are called to “honor and equip the baptized for their ministry in the world” (Visions and Expectations). 

            It is my belief that we accomplish these things through our faithful witness to all that we have seen, trusting that the Holy Spirit is at work in us, in our words, and in the hearts, minds, and hands of those who listen to our message, that they might be inspired to “present [their] bodies as a sacrifice--alive, holy, and pleasing to God--which is [their] reasonable service…[being] transformed by the renewing of [their] mind(s), so that [they] may test and approve what is the will of God--what is good and well-pleasing and perfect.”