The funds

Thursdays...all about money. Every Thursday we have our meeting at Cafe Muro with the fundraising committee for Colectivo 41. It is made up of wonderful people from Mexico, the U.S., and Canada. One of the committee members also plays host. He is the owner of the cafe and his name is Gerardo. Gerardo is gracious beyond measure. I can only hope to learn the art of exquisite etiquette from him. We have coffee, tea, or hot chocolate and we discuss how to raise money, how to have events, and how to be a successful fundraising committee. Two of the reasons I love coming to the meetings are that I get to see Gerardo, and I get to have a real cup of coffee, as in - not instant!!! Oh for the love of all that's green and gold, how I love fresh coffee. One of the things I find to be very challenging about the meetings, is that by the end, I'm always uncertain as to whether anything has actually been accomplished. I can only imagine this happens in other work or group meetings? Espero que si!! My role is to record the minutes and to assist, in general, however I can with whatever I can. Everyone in the group is passionate about supporting Colectivo 41 and building a community for LGBTI youth. We are just struggling now with how to be a committee. How do we hold ourselves and others accountable? If you are part of a committee should you not also be a donor to the cause for which you are serving? If you have a friend of a cousin of a friend that might have a yacht that can be used, how do you go about securing that and not just talking about it. So, I am directly experiencing how funding manifests itself into action - working with peer counselors at CASA and seeing the resources and education they bring into the rural communities. I'm also involved in the ongoing hustle for funds. It's an interesting balance of energies. I'm grateful to be part of both. Is it more pleasant at times to be speaking Spanish with peer counselors and working on site at CASA rather than discussing money in English? YES, por supuesto! Still, I have realized lately how obtaining ongoing sources of funding can't be separated from building and sustaining a program. Not only that, it's really beneficial to learn about fundraising. Believe it or not, it can actually be fun. I liken it to a room of infinite and incredible boxes of puzzles. We are choosing which one we want to invest our time in. We know we need to work together. The results could be wonderful. And then...the results might evolve...into...puzzle number two. One of the coordinators and I were having a discussion on the way to the meeting. Fundraising is hard, planning and carrying out events is REALLY hard, having someone promise you money and then retract that promise is hard. What might be even more difficult to handle than all of that? Knowing that people's livelihoods and well being are at stake if we do nothing. I can only speak from the first person but I can't live with that. Even if I can only give $20 right now and volunteer time, I'm going to do it. I need not worry about what others choose. I'm the one that has to walk around with my koo-koo mind all day after all! So, in a toast to the world wide community of fundraisers all over the world, behind the scenes, behind the desks, on the phones, blinded by statistics, and forgetting to breathe. Thank you for working so hard to fund a project you believe in. Thank you for helping to create spaces and resources. Thank you for not giving up.

Atole de galleta my friends. This has become the new addiction. That and a small bag of jicama sprinkled with lime and chili salt in the afternoons. But atole de galleta, dear lord, it's so delicious. There is a woman and her daughter that come to CASA every morning and when we have a break from the promotore training, everyone goes outside to purchase tamales or sweet corn cakes and atole de galleta. It's about 50 cents in U.S. money for a cup. It is made from milk, condensed milk, cinnamon, and crumbled up cookies. What!!!!! It's too good, it's too good. This morning it was particularly enjoyable as I was able to speak as freely as I've been able to with some of the youth counselors. We had done an exercise earlier so that we might all actually learn each others names (there are many of us and even after three weeks I had a hard time with my memory). Maggie started it off by saying her name and then making an animal sound and the trick was as we continued to go around the circle we had to repeat the names of everyone and their unique animal sounds that came before us. Lucky me, I was the 4th to go but wow, for the last few! You can only imaging how difficult it was to get through everyone. I mean each person that had to repeat the elephant sound (chosen by Christian)... resulted in hysterical laughter. I don't know if it's because today was the day before the last training, or if it was the name game, but there was a wonderful new ease between myself and the promotores. Whilst sipping our sweet milk biscuit drinks outside, two counselors, Maru and Claudia let me know how to say certain expressions in Spanish that are AWESOME but that I of course can't repeat here. We concluded the day with what can be referred to as a "Gender Gummy." It was a drawing of a gummy bear, that had been divided into sections. Sex, gender identity, expression of gender, and sexual orientation. Everyone from the group was asked to go up and mark an X next to the areas in which they identified. If you were born as a female and identified as a female but dressed in a more androgynous way sometimes or perhaps you preferred dating people that were transgender, then you could mark your spots accordingly on, in, or around the gummy bear. The result: a lot of diversity. Maggie emphasized how all the labels on the gender gummy could change, daily. There still appears to be a lot of confusion in regards to the difference between sex, gender identity, and expression of gender. This is just new information and as Maggie and Miguel have said on many occasions, it will take time. We also talked again about homophobia, sexism, and racism. Maggie stated that every person in the room had thoughts that could be categorized in the aforementioned isms. "What do you think when you see an indigenous woman on the street with her hand out?" "What goes through your mind when you see a person who is trans?" "What about if you are a woman and you are walking down the street at night and you see a person of color, an African American person?" "Do you cross the street?" Yes. Everyone raised their hands at some point. Guilty as charged. We all are. It makes it all the more important knowing how much control we have over our own behavior. We might all have thoughts we do not want others to know. It's natural to have such thoughts. How much do we act on these thoughts? How many of our thoughts do we believe to be true? Personally, the danger for me is when I convince myself that my thoughts are justified and true and right! I could be thinking of any one person, group, philosophy, choice of fashion - you name it. I must keep reminding myself that my thoughts are just my thoughts. They are a manifestation of how I was brought up. They come from my experiences, my status in society, my education, and so much more. Our thoughts and prejudices and fears are real to us. They are real but does that make them the only reality, the only truth? I may love marshmallows but does that mean that every person that doesn't like marshmallows is evil or wrong. Hmmm, me thinks not!! Let's start with a name. If you have a moment, if you are purchasing a coffee from someone, if someone on the bus is staring at you, if you are trying to send a package at the post office, perhaps you could ask that person what there name is, and then introduce yourself. It's seemingly simple but so difficult to execute. It's a choice that could mean busting through the well-constructed walls of one's mind. It's a choice to engage when we so often want to believe our thoughts and our assumptions. Tomorrow I will learn the name of the woman who makes the atole de galleta...and her daughter. My name is Leila and my animal sound is BZZZZzzzzzzzzzzzzzz!!

El poder

Poder - La habildad de controlar las circunstancias. Power, the ability to control the circumstances. The question and the discussion of the day - Who or whom has the power? Maggie conducted an experiment before we actually delved into the question. We were all divided into three groups. Each group was given a different amount and a different type of materials and told to create a logo for the Colectivo 41 project. I happened to be in the group that had the most materials. Thanks to one of the promotores whom is an artist, we created a colorful, finely executed logo. We returned to the circle, each group presented their logos, and Maggie decided that our group, Group 1, were the "winners." She then brought up the question, "Who had the power in this excersise?" A lively discussion followed as members from the other groups pointed out that they had very little material to work with and it made the ability to execute a creative idea much more difficult. It wasn't that we were not equal, it wasn't that we were not all capable of creativity, it was a matter of resources. From there, the conversation turned to lists. A list of people that had the power and a list of those that did not. The obvious? To be sure: the government/police/white people+gringos/rich people/men/the pope and priests/Catholic church/heterosexuals/bosses/narcos/pretty people. Those lacking: the people/the poor/women/employees and workers/LGBTI community/young people/indigenous people/people of color/ people with physical handicaps and deformities. Although we ran out of time before we could finish our discussion, I believe I will continue to meditate on these lists for quite awhile. I am thinking of all the many things we do not have control over - being born female, being born without hands, being born biologically as a female but identifying as a male, being born as a person of color. And of course, all the many things we have control over. All the decisions we are responsible for making every single second of every day. All the ways in which we may have contributed to the suffering or oppression of someone else. How I wish I could press a re-do button for some of my own actions. How many times I have made an assumption, and made a judgement, when I was ignorant of what was going one. At this time, I defer to a much wiser human than myself. In the words of Thich Nhat Hanh, "You are like a candle. Imagine you are sending light out all around you. All your words, thoughts and actions are going in many directions. If you say something kind, your kind words go in many directions, and you yourself go with them. We are ...transforming and continuing in a different form at every moment."

What would you do if...? Today, in promotore training, Miguel placed 4 large cards up in the auditorium in four different spots. Miguel then proceeded to ask a series of questions,for example,"Would you eat a gallon of lemon ice cream?" We then had to each decide what sign we wanted to stand under. Si, para mi/ Si para los demas which means yes for me and yes for anyone else. Yes for me, no for others-No for me but yes for others and the final- No for me and no for others. The questions became more intense within moments. "Would you have sex before marriage?" "Would you kiss someone of the same sex?" "Would you kiss someone of the same sex with an open mouth?" Would you sleep in the same bed with someone of the same sex?" "Would you sleep with someone in the same bed who had HIV?" "Would you have sex with someone that had HIV?" And there it was. We were all choosing sides. In but a moment, we let one another know exactly how we felt about some delicate topics by simply choosing where we stood. Miguel would then ask people from each group to explain why they chose the section they did. There was a lot of shyness and a lot of different reasons why someone did or did not believe that it was okay for people that are the same sex to make out. I managed to stay in the Yes for me and yes for anyone else side the whole time (apart from the lemon ice cream question that is). But. We all have different experiences. We all have different histories, cultures and god only knows, we all come from unique families. That being said, I understand why four other women and myself were the only ones standing under the sign that said "yes for myself and yes for others" when the question "Would you sleep with someone who had HIV?" was asked. I understand that for many in that room, there is a lot of fear. I also understand how even if one felt contrary wise, one wouldn't want to choose something they felt their peers would give them flack about later. It can be difficult to be true to yourself. I felt awkward. I was afraid of what people might say. The weird new intern who says she was a baker but made us oatmeal rocks... would SLEEP IN THE SAME BED WITH SOMEONE WHO HAD HIV!! But I knew why I was there. It took a moment, but only a moment to feel confident and comfortable with my choice. I know that if my partner had HIV I would continue to love him/her, sleep with him/her, support him/her, etc. I know that had I not had the support and love from my friends and family at some crucial points in my life, I might very well not be here today. Still, I understand why some of the promotores decided to scuttle to the side of the room that said "Not for me, not for anyone." We are complicated creatures and we need a lot more understanding than judgement when it comes to our stories. The rest of today, I have been distracted thinking of the welfare of a very dear friend who is in the midst of a difficult and long labor. We are sending well wishes and loving energy your way. We love you Chanin, we love you Kenny.

The walk

The fireworks started at 4am. As we made our way to the square in front of the Parroquia, the world was quiet and gentle and we could still see the stars. We walked up to the square behind folks that were descending from all of the different colonias, or neighborhoods. As we came into the square, we found ourselves amongst hundreds. A few groups were practicing for ceremonial dances that would kick off the walk. Faces were painted, giant drums were being practiced on, and the 4am mass was taking place in the Parroquia. Ted and I sat perched on the edge of a stone ledge in front of the grand iglesia. We weren't quite ready to join the CASA group as we wanted to take in everything that was going on around us. More fireworks! A little background on the walk. San Juan de los Lagos is the second largest pilgrimage site in Mexico. In the end of January and beginning of February, millions will walk from all over Mexico to the town of San Juan to visit the basilica where there is a legendary statue of the virgin. CASA joins the pilgrims for the first 7 kilometers of their journey, as a way of bringing awareness and raising money for their prevention against violence program. So here we were. Ted went in search of coffee. When he left, moments later a young boy and his step-uncle? (we actually never found out if that was correct) came over to where I was and the young guy plopped down right next to me. He started talking to me in Spanish. He asked me if I was from San Miguel and why I was walking. Ted returned and sat on the other side of me (with bread and a cup of sweet fruit tea), very curious as to what had transpired since he left! I asked the boy how old he was and what his name was. He said he was 13 years old and his name was Daniel. He asked me if the guy sitting next to me was my brother or my husband to which I replied husband, and then he said I was pretty, shyly, as he looked at his knees. I introduced him to Ted and then we continued talking although he spoke quietly and REALLY fast so I had difficulty understanding him. I gathered that he had come from Queretero with his step grandmother and aunt and maybe uncle. He was part of a church group that was participating in the 9 day trek, through the countryside, on foot. I asked him where his grandmother was and he said she was in the church taking mass. The fireworks started again, the people dressed in Native costumes starting dancing. The drums roared at the same time that the enormous bells of the parroquia started ringing.

Daniel asked us to go with him, adelante, in the walk. We were both confused but said okay, not knowing at all what we had signed up for. The pilgrims started filing out of the church, holding statues of the virgin and Jesus placed in glass boxes. They carried satin banners with the names of their churches, scripture, and saints. There was also a group of men, each carrying a very large crucifix resting on their shoulders. Daniel beckoned to us to follow him and he went up to a group of pilgrims that were from a church in Queretero and found his grandmother. He said something to her and then turned around and said, "Leila and Ted" and something about how we were joining them. She looked very taken aback but nodded and smiled and there it was. As we walked with them, I looked behind me at the the whereabouts of the CASA group but could not see them. "Oh well, I thought, I'll just find them later." In my mind, this invitation, completeley random and gracious could not be refused. A couple of lovely women kindly pointed out to Ted and I that we needed to fall into formation. There were two lines and I needed to be in one, and Ted in the other. We started out. Friends, family, people, never have I participated in anything like this walk. I have too many images and feelings to share from yesterday but some of them that stick out are: walking for the first two hours with the Queretaro church group. There are a group of people that follow along the side of the pilgrims with megaphones and small bibles. They sing scripture and songs and the pilgrims echo for the entire walk. We joined in, as much as we could. Hundreds of people were outside of their homes in anticipation of this event. They offered sweet tea, coffee, bottles of water, oranges, bread, sweet bread, cookies and long canes of sugar to be used as walking sticks. The generosity and support were overwhelming. We moved from the city into the country within an hour and still there were people that would join us as we went. At our first rest, Daniel (whom had kept an eye on us the entire time) pulled a large piece of plastic out of his bag and asked us to sit down. There were trucks set up all over the camp where hundreds of people were lining up for free food. Tortillas, rice, beans, and tortas filled with pork meat were handed out along with flavored water in plastic bags. We had brought along some snacks of our own and had gathered a lot of sweet bread along the way so we had a little feast. Daniel asked us why we weren't getting in line for the food so I said "Alright, I'll go for it, do you want anything?" He told me that he wasn't feeling well and he only wanted to drink from a little juice bottle he had. I walked to find food, leaving Daniel to strike up a hilarious conversation with Ted about marijuana and the U.S. and I ran into the CASA group. The promotores greeted me with hugs and smiles and everyone said they thought I had gotten lost! All of the northamerican people were heading back in the CASA van after this first part and Nina asked me if I wanted to continue on with the promotores (who were walking the whole distance, to the pilgrim camp) or to go back with them. I said we would continue. I went back to Daniel and Ted and relayed the info to Ted. We talked more with Daniel and I started to gather that Daniel was pretty lonely. He didn't join his grandmother or aunt for the rest, he seemed to articulate that they were just family because of a stepfather. I asked him about school and he told us he had dropped out of school after the 5th grade. He wanted to know if we had children, where we had come from, and what we were doing in San Miguel. When Ted told him how old we were he said we were as old as the mountains! As the firework went off, indicating to us that the walk would begin again, I made the tough decision to fall back and walk with the CASA group. I wanted to stay with Daniel, I know he wanted us to. I just felt that is was my responsibility to continue on in solidarity with the promotores. As we started walking, I fell back and Ted went up to Daniel to say good bye. He explained what we were doing and then they shook hands. I didn't want to say goodbye. For some reason, in the moment, I couldn't. It was a moment of weakness or call it what you will. I just couldn't. As we continued walking with the CASA group, there was much laughter and stumbling with the promotores. A few of them were decked out in butterfly wings that had statements on them and they were holding hands as we plowed through dust, rocks, bounty of cow and horse crap and a very rugged steep countryside.

I was exhausted and I was so happy. There was more rest, more food, more walking, cactus countryside pee stops, more people, more singing, more prayers, more food, more kool-aid, sun, and the comfort of the CASA van when I thought I would pass out. As we neared the end of the days walk, and drove towards the pilgrims camp to drop off food and items for the CASA group that were continuing to walk through the weekend, we passed the pilgrims in the car. I had been searching for Daniel during all of our stops and hadn't seen him. I wanted to thank him and hug him. I thought perhaps he had to stay and rest somewhere because he wasn't feeling well. But as we were making our way to the camp, there he was, his face in a sea of many, holding his sugar cane. Ted and I were in the trunk of the van (only space in the car and we got to ride with no seat belts!!) and spotted him from the back window. He saw us. I saw a huge grin come across his face. Ted and I started waving like maniacs, "Daniel, it's Daniel"!!!! He kept grinning, and started waving back. Thank you Daniel.

The wolf is always here...

An interesting day indeed. Last night I decided to make oatmeal raisin cookies for the promotores because...I wanted them? Ted wanted them? We were watching a movie this morning and I thought they'd go well? I made said cookies. Last night they were chunks of moist molasses butter deliciousness. This morning they had transformed themselves into small, dry, rocks. We had read that baking at high altitudes had this effect but I had no idea that these cookies would become lil bricks. I decided to bring them anyway and quickly looked up how to say "Would you like to try some cookies, they are a little hard, like rocks" before I ran out the door whilst spilling coffee all over my hand and bag. Those peer counselors. They were so kind. One of them even asked me for a second. I heard a little giggling as they managed to crack the outer oatmeal stones with their teeth. One of the young men and I had an exchange about the fact that we were both bakers. I told him I also did cake decorating, "Yo era una decoradora de tortas hace seis anos." He looked at me a little strangely but smiled and then we all had to move chairs into a different building to watch a movie. It wasn't until later that morning that Karen, the wonderful graphic designer I sit next to in the office told me in Spanish, "Oh I know it's tricky because there are different words for things in different regions and torta is actually cake in Spain but in Mexico, torta is sandwich." I actually couldn't stop laughing. I (explicative) love that I mess up so so so much every day and people are just gracious about it!! On that note, I have experienced being around a large number of the retiree/ex-pat community that live here in San Miguel. It's difficult for me to understand why so many of them insist on speaking in English to Spanish speakers. Now, I was given excellent advice before I left the U.S. with regards to this blog. "Don't treat it like a journal, if you want to vent put it in a diary, use your blog to inform people about the WORK you are doing"(thank you Giustina). With this in mind, I have chosen not to vent on many occasions in regards to the aforementioned issue(that would be the large English speaking population here) and I will continue to respect that advice. It is an epic challenge, but it can be done! I have also been learning how choosing to feed the "wolf" of anger (even if the anger "seems" justified) is not only self- destructive, it gets in the way of the positive energy that is needed in order to connect well with others. Moving forward, Ted and I participated in a presentation at the theater in one of the public libraries here today. It was a sendoff event for the "Caminta contra la violencia" that's happening tomorrow starting at 5am. That's right, 5 am. A group of us read statistics, in Spanish and English, regarding the violence that is committed towards women in Mexico. The audience sat through a couple of short films, one from Italy, and another from Sweden, that contained domestic violence themes. Tomorrow we walk. Along with a group of hundreds, we will start at 5am in the garden by the beautiful Parroquioa. The walk is actually the beginning of a Catholic pilgrimage that happens every year, but CASA takes part in the first leg of the journey. I have heard people from the community hand out coffee to those that are walking. I was also told not to take it, that the water that was used wasn't bottled water. I've decided to take it anyway. smile. Thank you for joining!

Today I was assigned another job! It's to take over as the volunteer/intern coordinator here at CASA. I will review applications of prospective interns and volunteers, arrange Skype interviews and work with Nina, the head of the coordinator department in the development office. I'm still going to be working with Colectivo 41 but primarily with fundraising/grant writing. I will also finish out the training with the promotores which is over at the end of the month so...lot's of work! I'm feeling good. I feel as though I'm developing more of a trust with this incredible organization and its people. This morning, in the Colectivo 41 training, we discussed gender roles and gender stereotypes. Miguel articulated the difference between biological sex and gender identity. This confuses most of the promotores a lot and has been the case since the beginning of the trainings. One of the questions in Miguel's presentation was - "Is your biology your destiny?" If you are born a man must you only identify with the stereotypes of masculine gender? The promotores and I broke up into groups and made lists of what women and men were "supposed" to be. Women were defined as virgins until marriage (that prompted hysterical laughter when it was read) coquettish, whiny, docile, timid, maternal, obedient and so on. Men were described as macho, liars, drunks, violent, strong, leaders of their families, workers, intelligent, lazy, cheaters, and egotistical. Yowzer!!! Very defined, very extreme, not a lot of room for flexibility in our lists! What if you are a beaker and contain a little fizz from one list and a little liquid from another list and then you dip pretty heavily into the all around weirdo batter...? I don't know, I really don't. Keep trying to be the best HUMAN I can, that's about all I can do to respond to stereotypes that are placed on me and that I place on others. I'm learning that the dialogue for much of what we identify as problematic in our communites is ongoing. I'm not going to come up with a solution for anything ever, HAHAHA,...obviously! I would like to participate in the ongoing conversation though. My favorite moment today: I joined in on a meeting in which there were five women sitting around a tiny table, discussing a bevy of subjects and folding informational brochures. I actively listened. I was asked to explain my opinion about a certain subject and I fumbled my way through an explanation. But I think I was understood. Then one of my co-workers gave me a chocolate. After the meeting I went to the bathroom and skipped/ran down the hall grinning like a fool. Hasta luego!

What a quiet morning it was... as Ted and I walked to CASA (he walks with me every morning and picks me up in the afternoon) we wondered if there had been a time change, or a saints holiday. The usual procession of school kids walking down the streets were missing as well as the many cars, buses, and motorcycles. Then I heard singing, choir singing. It appeared to come from every direction, lovely, far away. The skies were close and weighted and grey. It seemed a wonderfully elusive way to start the work week. As we gathered in the auditorium, literally half the promotores were missing. Maggie inquired as to where everyone was and I heard an answer but I didn't understand. Oh well. We watched a fantastic 28 minute bilingual documentary directed and produced by Woman Vision entitled "De Colores." The documentary addressed the struggles for gay Latino youth in both the United States and Latin America. The number one priority in the Latino culture, as was explained in the film, was one's family. To paraphrase a Latina woman from "De Colores", "we are brought up to believe that family is everything and that you will always have the support of your family." So what happens when your family has a son or daughter that is gay? The documentary revealed different stories and experiences, painful and frustrating. A young man who was adopted by a woman after his own family rejected him. A young women whose family threatened to chain her to her bed or send her to a mental institution because she was gay. Faith and the Catholic religion were also brought up in the video. A woman testified that her mother did not believe she would meet her in heaven because she was gay. A pastor spoke in Spanish, that there was no room for judgement in the church. We were all to act in the loving manner in which Jesus did, without exception. This video brought about a lot comments and nervous laughter and questions from the promotores. The discussion of "stereotypes" specifically those surrounding gay men, is what prompted some of the giggling and whispering. Although I'm somewhat unclear as to who asked, a question as to the "effeminacy" that is stereotypically associated with gay men was brought up. Lots of emotional exclamations and perhaps a few mild disagreements took place. I believe there was discussion with respect to the violence that is committed towards a man whom is perceived as effeminate and therefore vulnerable to being hurt or killed. Maggie reigned the conversation in and articulated that the we would continue our talk another day, and that she wanted everyone to think about there own homophobia because, and I paraphrase her, "everyone in this room is homophobic in some regard." There were immediate nods of agreement as well as silence and downcast faces. After sitting in my chair for about 30 seconds...dumbfounded, I wanted to stand up and applaud her and the youth around me. This was courage. These are such difficult things we discuss here. We are working out and learning about issues that have ripped apart families and communities all over the world. We are confronting fear. We are talking about the burden of hiding one's true identity, being, and spirit. So much of the overwhelming sadness I have experienced with others through out my own life, has had to do with living in a secret. We are learning how the pain of a secret can destroy a beautiful life. Everywhere. We are learning it through shared histories and stories. Happy Birthday Dr. Martin Luther King Jr.

HIV awareness and education was the theme of today's training. We watched an incredible short video from the site-"La pasion por la vida." The sections that we focused on today were women living with HIV. The women they interviewed varied in their ages, family size, and stories. They all shared the fact that they were living with HIV. They shared their fears. They also relayed what inspired them and enlivened them to be actively involved in their communities and families. One of the women was a woman in transition, the other women were all heterosexual. Some of them had children, even grandchildren. They had all been living with HIV from between 3 to 20 years. The promotores were particularly interested in this series. There were a lot of questions about how HIV was contracted. There was concern as to whether or not it could be passed to children. Stories were shared by the promotores with respect to friends that they personally knew whom were living with HIV or AIDS. Another topic that was talked about was responsibility. Miguel, one of the founders of Colectivo 41 emphasized again and again to the youth that it was their responsibility, my responsibility, his responsibility to protect oneself. He articulated that blaming someone else for contracting a disease of any kind was not the way in which to accept one's situation. To paraphrase his words, "When ever you are in the throes of passion, pull out that condom!! It's not just the male's responsibility, it's not just the females. Always be prepared. Always be responsible." If you do not/if I am not- you are to blame/ I am to blame- you are at risk/ I am at risk. It struck me how difficult it is to be responsible. I know that might sound incredibly naive or just dumb but really, how many times have you or someone you know been in a position where it's REALLY DIFFICULT to put reason and logic before passion and everything that goes under that umbrella (and around..and above!) Still, there are such terrible and dire consequences. Although many of us know that wearing a condom prevents the spread of HIV and other diseases, from the little I have gathered via conversations with counselors and even the promotores, this knowledge is not obvious or known to many, as in thousands. I thought I had an idea about how many people were being diagnosed with HIV but when statistics(and these numbers were in Mexico alone) flashed before us on the screen today, I was genuinely taken aback by just how many people are being diagnosed here in Mexico with HIV... daily. And of course, as Miguel talked about, those are just the people that have access and resources and support to get tested. Miguel had brought up in the interview that we did last week, how some of hundreds of people in the rural communities had to travel for hours just to get to a city that had clinics. "What are these people supposed to do, when it takes 8 hours to get to Mexico city for example, and 8 hours to get back. Then factor in cost, returning for results...what are they supposed to do?" What do we do? I know what I wanted to do.... I wanted to run to the nearest panadería and shove five empañadas and galletes into my mouth. It was either that or start crying (which happened anyway, ha!) right then and there. Emotion is not really my friend right now though...I mean it's there and I respect that but...it will only serve me if it can somehow be generated into a constructive tunnel, turned into benevolent energy and then unleashed... calmly. By all of that, I mean executing an idea into a positive action. Hmmmmmm, let's just keep showing up everyone, yes?

An unexpected and incredible opportunity presented itself today. I was asked if I would like to join the promotores as they ventured into the rural communities to pass out condoms. Ummm, yes!! I had wanted to go out with them before but in truth, I was far too timid to ask. So here I was, graciously given the opportunity to accompany two other promotores on a walk to a colonia just outside of where CASA is located. At first, we walked along in shy silence. I was unsure if I should initiate a conversation for a few reasons, primarily because I was concerned that if I hopelessly involved them in a conversation I couldn't actually take part in, it would be even more awkward. Fortunately one of the promotores readily volunteered to engage me in dialogue. We discussed a range of topics, from immigration to the U.S., to prejudice, to the violence that was present in certain areas in which the promotores lived as well as the violence that is so prevalent in the United States. Although there were countless moments in which I had difficulty following along, I consciously attempted to forgo translating every word into my head as it was spoken and instead just tried to listen - a practice that I plan on doing a lot more of. These young people are fantastic. Knocking on doors and stopping people in the streets, they present themselves as promotores from CASA and sign people up to receive monthly supplies of prophylactics. They had warned me before we arrived at the colonia that there was a lot of poverty in this particular area. There were in fact houses that were constructed from cardboard. I'll make it really simple; it's hard to see, really hard. I also don't want to write about a situation that I don't understand and that would be coming from an outsiders point of view. It just doesn't seem right. It seems to come back to the work. It is my responsibility to work here... A LOT. I want to do the best I can, every day, all day. That's all most of us can do...yes? A promotore shared an extremely powerful story with me about a friend he had that had passed away. Out of respect for his privacy, I won't repeat it here but I was moved beyond the beyond that this kind young man would share his vulnerability with me. I found it difficult to refrain from saying, "Ohhh, thank you for this story!!! Can I make you a cake? Do you prefer cookies? Do you want to come over and we can make you dinner?" I did refrain...thank. goodness. I decided just to listen. Heart blown open wide for the moments we permit ourselves to connect with others. A very good night to all!

La lenguaje

This morning, while finishing the tepid yet delicious instant coffee from a mug with a picture of zebras frolicking about ( yes, I like instant coffee now...from necessity came appreciation) I kept revisiting all of the embarrasing ways in which I had communicated in the last 24 hours. "Oh I am not able my computer because it is in the red...I would be liking to be having in the exercises part, there are exercises because when I was when I was a young, when I was in my young, I liked it.." Oh and there's more but the point is, is while I was internally cringing, Maggie, one of the leaders of Colectivo 41, started explaining to the youth promotores that language, la lenguaje, was the most important way in which a movement in a group could define themselves and communicate their ideas, beliefs, and needs to the public. She brought up the role language has played in the Feminist movement, the Civil Rights movement, and the Zapatista movement. With that in mind, Maggie informed the group that we were going to learn and explore the language that is important to know in the movement for equal rights in the LGBTI youth community. We had created a matching game for the promotores to play in which they had to find a term and match it with the correct definition. From some of the reactions from the promotores there seemed to be a lot of confusion and genuine curiosity in regards to, for example, the definition of a transgender person or a person that was born with male and female genitalia. Before the exercise even started, Maggie brought up how every word has a story. She said the word "joto" which is a derogatory name in Spanish to describe a person that is gay. Quite of the few of the promotores, well, primarily the young men, turned various shades of red and pink and held their hands in front of their mouths as they gulped back laughter. I think they were surprised, as was I, that we would openly address hateful speech in our morning meeting. Maggie proceeded to tell the story behind the term "joto" (I recommend you look it up as it's very compelling) and explained how imperative it was to be informed about the history of words and whom in our society had the power to create and define words. I was hyper-aware of the reactions that were coming forth from the promotores in the room, as Maggie continued listing off offensive language that has been used towards people in the LGBTI community. I felt like it was going to be okay though, even if the subject material was delicate, by talking openly about stereotypes and ugly words we were working it out, right then. Although it could have been the amount of diet coke and gum I consumed today (shame) I continued to feel queasy when ever I remembered the power we have with words and the ways in which we communicate with one another. Going back to yesterday's idea of accountability, I was reminded of our utter lack of control when it comes to what others will say or yell, or whisper, or write, or cry. I am thankful for the concept that can be executed into action; take a moment, take a breath, take whatever we may need, so that we may be able to respond with integrity and compassion in our speech. Hey, may we all be able to learn how to do so in another language other than our native tongue! Espero que si y que vaya bien!

It's Monday evening here. The streets are very quiet apart from all of the dogs barking, of course. I'm actually getting used to it and find the variety of howls somewhat comforting. This morning in the auditorium, I stood close as the promotores took part in a very powerful exercise. They were each given a star, which came in 4 different colors. They were told to write the name of their best friend, a family member or animal they loved and trusted completely, their dream occupation, and their dreams of how happiness would manifest itself in their lives. They wrote each bit in the points that made up the star. As we stood in a circle, Maggie told them they all had to pretend they were a gay, lesbian, bisexual, or transgender person. There were a few shocked and embarrassed expressions but everyone stayed calm. Maggie and Miguel asked that we all treat one another with respect and to stand together in silence for the exercise. Maggie proceeded to name of hypothetical situations in which each person decided to "Salir del closet" or come out of the closet to a friend, a family member, a boss, etc. In some of the cases those that had certain colored stars were accepted and supported by all those that they chose to confide in. Other stars met with confusion from those they had come out to. One group of stars, the pink group, were completely rejected in all aspects of their life. The group with pink stars had torn off each point on their star as Maggie went down the list of rejections, until tiny pieces of rose colored paper was scattered at the feet of all the promotores. Their friends, family, and working community "had hypothetically" all expressed disgust. They were kicked out of their homes and cast out of their communities. These stars wound up committing suicide. When the exercise was finished their was a weight and a sadness in the room. Some expressed how badly they felt that so much rejection and ugly feelings could be put on another person just because they were gay. Others shared stories of experiences they had had, from a family member coming out and being accepted to people they knew that threatened to kill someone for being gay. I believe we all left feeling a little more responsible for our behavior in the world. Perhaps we are a little more aware of the daily battle for acceptance and equal rights. I was aware of how much I rely, to the deepest depths of my being and marrow in my bones, on my family and community of friends. As we ended the exercise, the promotores clapped, with a connection that was just starting to form amongst us all; accountability.

A lovely first week at CASA. Today was spent listening to a wonderful doctor address public health issues with the promotores. He discussed what health issues were common all over the world as well as the issues that are specific to Mexico. Diabetes is one of the most prevelant public health issues here in Mexico and the doctor expressed that much of the problem comes from the amount of soda that is consumed. The promotores asked questions regarding how heart attacks could be prevented as well the dangers of smoking cigarettes. There was some giggling and shared smiles when cigarettes were being discussed as a few of the promotores admitted to being smokers and were very interested in how it was affecting them. It was a fantastic learning experience for me in that I'm completely unfamiliar with discussing public health issues in Spanish so there were many new terms and I thought the subject matter was very compelling. Being a part of the promotore training has been invaluable. I worked on an activity after the doctors presentation for one of the next promotore trainings that will involve a game of terms and definitions. A card will contain a word, LGBTI, for example, and the definition next to it will be of a different term so the promotores will need to match them up. Again, learning a whole new set of terms and definitions in Spanish such as transgender, bisexual, and sexual orientation was superbien. My classes at PSU were primarily history and literature focused, so there wasn't a lot of discussion about public health or issues of sexuality and gender identity, unless it related to an author or movement of course. It's Friday and everyone is getting ready for their weekend. As I walked to a volunteer meeting at a woman's house (whom is helping to organize the Caminata contra la Violencia, Walk against Violence on January 24th in San Miguel) on Avenida Independencia, schoolchildren were trundling along with their parents, an ice cream cone or bottle of juice in hand, fiery sun overhead, and the smell of fresh tortillas around every corner I felt good. A strong, whole, round, pudgy, good.

Buenas Dias from San Miguel! Today...today I was part of a meeting in which one of the most difficult subjects people can discuss was discussed. That would be money; how to get it, who to get it from, how to bedazzle people into parting with their money...how to prove that one's cause was worth reaching for the checkbook and on and on. Talking about money and involvement in what one is giving their money to is also cause for tension. In the conversations today I heard people express how people that have money in the community want to feel connected to projects they are giving money to but it's not clear what form that connection will take. I heard that different proposals appeal to different economic classes of people. I heard that an entire programs proposal and significance should try and be captured in three words on a card in order to reach the most people. Now granted, all of the people at the meeting really do want to help. They do believe in this program. It's just hard to hear so many voices sometimes. Big, big, big sigh here. The complexity of receiving money for a cause is far too extensive to discuss here but it is something that the leaders of Colectivo 41 are deeply concerned with. YES, they need money. But where is that money coming from? Are strings or expectations attached to the "gift" or "donation." Is recognition expected? There is also the question of the source. What if this incredibly worthy program is offered money from a corporation that does not practice fair labor for example? Being a part of this experience has brought to light themes that I have only given cursory thought to most of the time. What I am meditating on right now is the work involved. I, as well as all those that have access to media, am used to seeing what a project looks like when it has achieved recognition in the public eye. If it's a documentary for example, the audience might witness all the struggles, compassion, frustration, --cue music and montages of faces that wrench one's gut--edited and captured into a 90 minute reel. After the film is over, one is possibly left feeling a sense of victory or resolution if a particular struggle has been overcome. There appears to be a begining and an end. That can seem comforting. I am now just beginning to realize what kind of effort it takes to build and sustain a project such as Colectivo 41. gritty. knotted. patience. hours. hours. days. years. LAUGHING. Worth every moment. This morning the promotores and leaders of Colectivo 41 and I watched Milk. It was the first time I had seen it and despite the fact that I knew the story and that it was dubbed in Spanish (making it a bit more difficult to understand) I was clenched in a ball holding back every tear by the end. The struggle for equal rights. It is every day and every moment. What I looked to for comfort at the end of a challenging day was this reality- there have always existed human beings, thousands upon thousands, that have fought for equal rights. As long as they are needed, they will be here. And yes, we just need to work right now.

Buenos Tardes from San Miguel. I...am...tired. As I can't seem to turn my mind off or even down to a lower level, sleep has not come easily. Fortunately, I can now experience how being in love with where one is and what one is doing can have the power of overcoming one's fatigue. This morning I attended a meeting for the "prometores" or youth counselors in the auditorium here at CASA. Migue and Maggy, the leaders of Colectiva 41 gave a presentation on the project. They discussed the significance behind it's name and then asked the group specific questions about their knowledge of issues regarding LGBT youth and people living with HIV. There were two pieces of poster paper on the wall and they proceeded to write down the thoughts of the students. Themes such as discrimination, stigma, police violence, struggle, fear, taboo, machismo, rejection, lack of information, and public health were all brought up. A question regarding the meaning of homophobia was asked, and skillfully answered by the leaders. I sensed a lot of curiosity and desire to learn on the part of the prometores. They were being educated about a subject that is considered taboo in much of the society and culture in Mexico and they all seemed incredibly open to asking questions. I also felt like I was going to bubble over with my own excitement regarding this incredible project and even though I couldn't understand 99% of the jokes that were exchanged between the prometores and the leaders, I laughed along like a great big nerd because I just wanted to be a part of it. There is A LOT of work to be done and being a part of the genesis phase is...ineffable. I was able to interview Maggy and Migue later, for an article that will appear in The Atencion, the paper for English readers in San Miguel. The leaders spoke of the need for this project, especially the funding. They also talked about what their own personal experiences were and why they were determined to fight for the equal rights of all those that face discrimination. Migue and Maggy are the type of people that will, little by little, help create the change that is so desperately needed on this planet. Why is there a limit as to whom one can love? Why does the freedom to love, to marry, to kiss, to make out with, to make love with, to dry hump, to hold hands with in public, to spoon bites of chocolate mousse over a restaurant table with... reserved for these people waiving over here and denied to these people waiving over there. I realize that these questions have been asked before, and that the reasons for resistance are complicated, but... I still believe this question must be continually put forth to those that resist the freedom to love who you love. Yes, it will take a lot of work to persevere even in the face of the extreme adversity that comes in all different forms. Whether it be homophobic and/or racist slurs or denial of services to one's spouse because their union is not recognized, there might always be a path obscured by obstacles. My admiration is reserved for those that know about and have experienced the obstacles...and continue, with all their heart, beautiful vulnerability, and strength of character.

May I have some more please?

Today, as I entered into the gorgeous structure that is CASA, I felt the weight of being saturated with more thoughts, ongoing translations of expressions, expectations, and worries than any human head should want to hold. Would I be able to express how much I wanted to be a part of a certain project? Would they have room for me? Were my Spanish speaking skills even up to par for anything worthy?! Was it acceptable to make coffee if there was a coffee machine? Etc..etc..etc..I walked into the reception area and was told to wait in the back office as Nina was in a meeting. After saying good morning to Ana, a lovely lady who is also a coordinator (she does more than I can even say) and meeting Karin (a new woman who will be working in the office as well) I sat awkwardly in a chair and proceeded to pull out my tiny notebook and make pretend lists. I cursed myself for not bringing a book but then quickly wondered if that would be rude. No matter, I started to write down some phrases I wanted to be able to say in Spanish, hoped they were grammatically correct, and then moved onto doodling. I was able to do this for the next 45 minutes and was so freaking grateful for that time...to be able to just be present in the office, to realize that no one was offended by the fact that I was doodling while I waited. My feeling of desperately wanting to disappear into the wall and only reappear after I became fluent from some magical symbiotic connection with the cactus outside (you see how the mind can work) also began to subside. I started to just relax. Nina appeared by jumping through a window that was connected to the office by the courtyard and I was so delighted and surprised by her choice of entry that I laughed and almost cried...a little. The day proceeded to be, Ay dios mio,wonderful. I talked with Maggy, a woman who used to be an intern from OSU and is now starting up a project called Collectiva 41 (I'll write more about the meaning of this name at some point)with Migue, the other program leader. She gave me a slideshow of the project and what they hope to accomplish in the next year. I expressed how much I wanted to be a part of it and that I was willing to take on anything that would help. I wrote a little about it yesterday but the project is revolutionary for San Miguel and Mexico. Collectiva 41's goals are to start a community of LGBT youth that will eventually (along with an older leader) be run by the youth themselves. Maggy expressed that she wanted the youth to be a part of every decision making process in the program. From fundraising, to ways in which to recruit queer and transgender youth in the community, Collectiva 41 will be created by and for LGBT youth according to an ongoing definition of what is needed. Yes...I was blown away at what Collectiva 41 is creating and felt awe-inspired by the amount of work that Migue and Maggy had already done. Yes please may I work on this project! Maggie and I spoke about me taking on some of the fundraising aspects of the project as well as possibly helping to create a zine project. After leaving Maggie feeling elated and exhausted I proceeded to take part in various other activities (a bit too many to describe here but all were random and great). Nina asked me if I liked to write which I shouted out yes as I accidentally flung my scarf in my face, and she said that she'd like some help editing a letter she was writing regarding a collaboration with CASA and the writer's conference that is happening in San Miguel in February. She also wanted to know if I'd be interested in writing articles for The Atencion, which is a weekly paper in San Miguel that many people read, including the large ex-pat population here. Another yes followed by some hyperventilation and there it was. My first concrete assignment. Believe me, I'm completely aware that I did not do anything to deserve this opportunity but none the less, I'm feeling pretty good right now my friends. Espero que tengan un buen noche!

First day at CASA

It is January 7th, 2013 here in San Miguel de Allende, Mexico. It's about 70 degrees,with clear skies and the slightest of breezes. Today I started my internship with CASA, Centro Para los Adolescentes. Here is a link to their philosophy and website. Please read if you can-http://www.empowercasa.org/casas-mission-philosophy/ The school itself, situated at the top of calle Santa Julia in Colonia Santa Julia is stunning. There is a large outdoor space in front of the school that contains play structures for children in the community to use as there are not many(or any) green spaces or parks in this particular area for children to play in.There is also an organic garden that is used as an educational tool for the children as well a space to grow food for the community.Nina, the coordination director at C.A.S.A graciously introduced me to many of the staff members and gave me a tour of the space. There is an incredible amount of work being done here! There is a library where children are required to check out and read at least three books a week and adults in the community can access it as well. There is also a rural library program in which structures are being built in communities that have little access to books. There is a daycare that takes care of children aged 45 days to 6 years Monday through Fridays. The highest priority for child placement in the daycare is given to single mothers and the cost is based on a family's income. While I was there the children appeared to be having the time of their lives celebrating "Three Kings Day"(more on that later). There are programs that focus on nutrition, health, family planning,and ecology and sustainability. Counselors go into rural communities and provide workshops to community members and families, educating people in everything from recycling to domestic violence and reproductive education. I was also introduced to the program leader(Migue) of a new department which focuses on H.I.V. education and prevention as well as sexual diversity education and LBGT support in the community. As of tomorrow, I hope to be working with Migue in this new program along with another former intern from OSU. Although all of the programs and projects at CASA are incredible and honestly, had I the time I would beg to be a part of ever single one, the H.I.V. and sexual diversity program is close to my heart and very important to me to be involved in. I hope to be writing more about this program later! There are two more programs at C.A.S.A that are also fantastic. They have a radio program that airs once a week that has interviewed members of the government, counselors, and experts on the subjects of reproductive education and health, nutrition, and domestic violence, just to name a few. As they express on their website, they are also not shy from exploring delicate subjects such as the many illegal abortions that are carried out in Mexico every year. The theater group at CASA writes and directs plays that are taken and performed in different communities. The themes of the plays range from violence against children, addiction, nutrition, values, HIV, migration and more. As if that isn't enough, there is also a hospital and midwifery school!It is Mexico's only government accredited midwifery school and they have a three year program for midwives to receive acredidation as a professional midwife. C.A.S.A's Maternity teaching hospital and family clinic is located less than a mile from the school. I was also given a tour of the hospital by one of the professional midwives, a woman named Kate, whom has been at CASA for a little less than two years. They have a podiatry clinic, the only one in San Miguel, as well as a tub for water births(apart from Mexico city, the water birthing tub at C.A.S.A is one of the only in the country.)Needless to say, I am struck with awe by amount of work that is being done to reach in order to provide rural communities with information and resources that they would otherwise not receive. Have I said how beautiful it is here? Words do not do it justice but yes...it is beautiful. I am so grateful to be here and to have the opportunity to learn. There is so much to be learned! My sincere gratitude for reading! Saludos!