I walked in to my neighbor, Luz Maria’s, shop one Wednesday evening looking for a chill, calm visit and walked out completely overwhelmed, astounded by the way I was encountered by God that night.
Luz Maria is one of the neighbors we have been getting to know here in Monte Sinai. She is a wife, a mother, and a shop owner. She sells DVD’s and clothing and her shop is ironically decorated in a red, white and blue color scheme.
I like to think of Luz Maria as someone with the curiosity of a child, the intelligence of a young person and the kindness of an old woman. She loves learning English and dreams of one day, traveling to the United States.
Usually, when I visit her, I walk in to her shop and talk for a little while and soon start watching a novela with her – usually a Mexican one, so you bet I know the entire plot already.
On Wednesday evening, I walked in while Luz Maria and her husband were watching “7 Soles”. For those of you who haven’t seen this movie, let me give you a quick synopsis. This movie is about immigration. It follows the lives of a handful of immigrants from different parts of Latin America traveling to the United States through the Mexico/Arizona border. During the movie, you are introduced to different families, each who hold their own unique story. You are introduced to the coyotes. You are introduced to the pain, struggle, fear, injustice and cruelty faced by undocumented immigrants. You are introduced to the reality of many individuals who are looking for an opportunity to live a better life.
I walked in halfway through the movie, exactly during a scene in which one of the men who was traveling was sick and couldn’t walk any longer. He was traveling with his wife and collapsed in the middle of the desert. The woman cried and yelled in agony as she sought help for her husband. The husband kept telling her to continue without him, but she couldn’t. The coyote wanted them to move… so he killed them, just like that…
My heart was hurting.
Moments later, Luz María turned to me and said, “Esto es lo que les pasa a la gente que quieren ir a tu pais. Qué triste.” / “This is what happens to the people who want to go to your country. How sad.”
My heart cracked.
How could I possibly respond to that? How could I find the right words when my heart was feeling 50 different things? What did I even think?
The movie continued. It now focused on a family of a mother and 2 children who were traveling to the United States to meet up with the father. This family was from Mexico – a loving, strict mother who passed away miles before getting close to the border, a sweet, caring older brother who took care of his mother and sister like his most precious treasure, and a sweet, little girl who was lost in this crazy journey of hers.
As the little girl answered she was from Mexico, Luz Maria once again turned around and said, “Tu eres de Mexico… ¿esto les paso a ustedes cuando fueron a Estados Unidos?” / “You’re from Mexico… did this happen to you and your family when you moved to the United States?”
I’m pretty sure my heart skipped a beat.
My answer was no, because it wasn’t… my family and I didn’t have to go through that, but the reality is that thousands do face that.
But what was most altering at that moment was how fast my role changed as a Mexican-American. In a matter of minutes, I was both, “la gringa” and “la Mexicana”. In less than 20 minutes, my neighbor had seen me as 2 different people, 2 different sides, and 2 different identities in which I constantly find myself between.
Living in Monte Sinai as a volunteer from the United States means one thing, and being a Latina volunteer means another thing… and it goes beyond language abilities or customs. I don’t actually have a full on answer yet, but I do know that the way in which our neighbors here see me, is constantly changing and hence, the way I see myself, is too.
When I walk with the rest of my volunteer community, I am part of “las gringas.” But when I walk the streets alone or I am spoken to directly, I am “la Mexicana.” And while I recognize my privilege as a US citizen and my pride as a Latina, I find myself in the middle of chaotic rollercoaster.
It’s been over 2 months in Ecuador and I am in awe at the constant reminders God sends me, letting me know that this year, is just as much learning about myself, as it is, learning about the poor.
While this year is centered on the people who I am lucky to call my neighbors, who I get to learn about, eat with and hug, who I am as Valeria is also important – but it is them who God is speaking through, pushing me and challenging me to keep learning about myself and my role.
It doesn’t matter if my neighbors only went up to the 1st grade or the 7th grade because they challenge me in ways that derive from curiosity, humility, faith and love. My neighbors here are individuals who one day, teach me about their lives and the next, teach me about myself – and that is something that I can only pray keeps happening. They challenge me to take a deeper look within myself, to learn about my own roots, to question what is happening in my country, to ask myself the hard questions even when I don’t want to… They dare me in the most God-like way.