Welcome (Back)!!

We finally made it back to Zapata and I was a little nervous...I mean, what if the people were just being POLITE when they said they wanted us to come back??? As we got out of the lancha and started walking toward Manuel's house, I think we were both a little worried. Soon, a man approached us to see if we needed help. I could tell he'd been drinking and told him no, we knew where to go. He tried several times to take Sierra's backpack to carry it for her, but she was having nothing doing with this and I had to tell him we were just fine several times before he finally stumbled off.

As we got into town, we didn't see too many people. We got to Manuel's house and he wasn't there, but his family across the street were home and invited us over. We sat with them for several hours visiting and eating and our worries were over. They were very excited to have us back.

Manuel and his wife Manuela eventually returned from church and welcomed us into their home. There were two young men there renting one room already, so Sierra and I got the room with one big bed. The two guys were there to study the effects of some rat that had come into the jungle and how it was affecting the other animals. They would leave fairly early every morning and come home in the afternoon to write about about their findings.

We got settled in and had fun catching up with our friends. Over the next few weeks we spent a lot of time at the river swimming, bathing and doing laundry. We learned how to use rocks to wash our clothes. The river was my favorite place. All the women gather there to gossip and wash laundry and bathe themselves. After work the men head down to cool off and bathe and there are always dozens of children there helping their moms or bathing or just swimming and laughing. Even the animals head down to get washed and watered.

A huge tree had fallen across part of the river and it became a giant jungle gym for the kids. They would climb it and jump off it and hang from it. It was a blast. We were all very sad when one day some men cut off several of the branches to dry for firewood. It was still fun, but it wasn't the same.

I came to see the spiritual term "river of life" in a new light, after spending so much time a the Perla river, which most certainly gave life to these people...and not only life as in life and death, but the abundant life of connection and fun and laughter and support. I felt a deeper connection to my faith as a result.

A few days after we were back in Zapata, they were having a big party to celebrate the founding of their town. It was to be on Tuesday night with a big dance. On Monday night at 2 am, they slaughtered 2 cows in the river and the entire town...all 400 of them!...noisily made their way down to the river to get their portion, as everyone would receive some. Being that there is no electricity in Zapata, the only meat generally consumed is chicken or fish, as those can be consumed in a day...however, it is much more difficult (and expensive) to get beef. You can imagine the party!! It went on the rest of the night while they cut up the beef and gave it away. People were whooping and hollering and everyone was in high spirits. The few trucks in town were flashing their lights and honking their horns. Music was blaring and no one got any sleep that night, but everyone had beef the next day!

The next day was one of preparation for the party. The kids helped to decorate the hall and the band practiced most of the day...with electricity outages sprinkled throughout along with the rain. Ladies were taking special care with their bathing and hair and children were scrubbed up extra clean. People were coming into the little store to buy something new for the dance and everyone was practicing their dance steps, even kids as little as 3, like our little friend Hugo. Everywhere we went people would ask us if we would dance at the party and all the little boys from age 9 to 14 were bragging that they would dance with Sierra. Even Sierra wanted a new outfit, and so we bought her a new pink shirt for the dance.

I was disappointed to see many of the men drinking and stumbling around. When we did finally get to the dance, there were all the women and children, scrubbed clean and in their new clothes, the air of anticipation about them was high. It felt like my first junior high dance (yuck)! The men were all outside (more jr high dance similarities!) and there were about 5 men who were very, very drunk stumbling round in circles in the center. One old man would occasionally try to get one of the girls or women to dance with them, which they would refuse. I was in the process of explaining to Sierra how to stay away from him when he came up to me and tried to pull me out in the middle with him. I dropped my eyes and said "no" very forcefully and pulled away. He continued to pull at me and I continued to pull away and shake my head no. Suddenly he was trying to kiss my face! Sierra was shocked and did not know how to react. My friend Deysey came up and pulled him away and began to tell him off and tell him he needed to have "respecta". I was very glad for Deysey and her aunt, who helped me. Deysey is only 16, but she had no fear to get in that guys face!

The police came a few minutes later and escorted the drunken men out, but they were back later that night. The rest of the evening only a few people danced and most just watched. Later they handed out candy and cookies to everyone, which is one of the tradtion of the party. We didn't know we were supposed to bring a bag, but other people had extras they letus have. By about 11 pm I was tired and ready to leave. Sierra wanted to stay to see if any of those bragging boys would make good on their word, but we ended up leaving. Sleep, however, was elusive....the band played until 5 am!

All in all, I was disappointed that the drinking of those men seemed to put a damper on everyone's fun. Alcoholism is a big problem in the indigenous people, and I think they must have the same suscepibility to alcohol that Native American Indians have. This, coupled with a lack of work and poverty makes thier lives difficult and many turn to alcohol for an escape...the lack of hope is the hardest to combat, and I can see the deep need they have for a saviour who gives them a hope and a future.

The women are nothing less than amazing. Despite the troubles they face, they manage to laugh and love and live...all down at the river (shall we gather at the river?). They carry almost all the workload of the home and are too often the subject of abuse when the husbands are drinking. The have a dream of a better life, and many want to come to America to work. I found them to be such an inspiration.

I met many women who told me stories of husbands who had "gone North", never to return. Many leave with a false ideal of what they can accomplish in the US, but this is rarely realized. Too often the men find other women, have another family and abandon their families back in Mexico. I had not realized this happened and it made me very sad. I spent much time trying to give a realistic picture of what life is like in the US for an illegal immigrant, and it is very hard.

I don't want to give the impression that all the men were drinking, or that they all beat their wives or abandon their families when they come to the US...this is certainly not the case. Unfortunately, however, it is far too common and it is altogether heartbreaking.