I have been thinking I should talk a little about the history of the name "Colectivo 41." Perhaps I have touched on it before but I thought I could go into a little more depth. The Colectivo 41 program at CASA derived it's name from a police raid that occurred at a private home in Mexico City, one evening on the 18th of November 1901. According to reports, "El Baile de los cuarenta y uno" or "The dance of the forty one" was attended by a group of men, mostly from the upper class, of whom about 19 were dressed as women. It was rumored that there were actually forty two people that were arrested, but that Ignacio de la Torre, the son-in-law of the infamous dictator Porfirio Diaz, was actually allowed to escape. Even though the raid was illegal, as the attendees had committed no "crime", the forty one participants were all convicted and sent to do hard labor in the Yucatan peninsula. In an article that was released after the raid, the 41 were referred to as "maricones," which is a derogatory term for someone that is gay. This raid had an incredible impact on society that has lasted to this day. According to a writer named Francisco L. Urquizo, whom wrote an essay in 1965 about the "41" taboo: In Mexico, the number 41 has no validity and is offensive... The influence of this tradition is so strong that even officialdom ignores the number 41. No division, regiment, or battalion of the army is given the number 41. From 40 they progress directly to 42. No payroll has a number 41. Municipal records show no houses with the number 41; if this cannot be avoided, 40 bis is used. No hotel or hospital has a room 41. Nobody celebrates their 41st birthday, going straight from 40 to 42. No vehicle is assigned a number plate with 41, and no police officer will accept a badge with that number. Much to my dismay, the determination to eliminate the number 41 from all things personal and official in Mexico is still upheld. I was told by one of the coordinators at CASA that many people in Mexico don't actually know the history of "El baile de los cuarenta y uno" - they just know that the number 41 is associated with being gay and/or a transvestite. Colectivo 41 wanted to pay homage to the ongoing battle for human rights and the freedom to love whom you love, by taking the name associated with the first police raid on a community of LGBT individuals in Mexico. My fortune to be a part of the group in any way still continues to surprise me.

Language proficiency. It's interesting to experience some of the feelings that are introducing themselves with respect to language proficiency. I find myself being oddly jealous of native Spanish speakers. "What fluidity they have, how easily they are able to trill the rrrr's, the jokes, the stories, how quickly they are transmitted!" Everyone is in on the same secret, except me. I know this envy, this train of thought might seem ridiculous and and that would be because...it is ridiculous. Of course I'm not going to be proficient in Spanish, of course I'm not going to be able to carry on an easy flowing conversation in Spanish after being in Mexico for less than two months. There is no secret. OF COURSE! I may know these facts intellectually, but the impatient self wants to understand and express everything RIGHT NOW! At the meetings I sit in on at CASA, I want to understand all of the subtle nuances. My co workers nod in agreement over a topic and I think "were they talking about an event or food with pork skins... was it a car that was hit or a wall...did this happen ten years ago or last week?" Then of course there are the expressions used here that I did not learn in any Spanish class in the states. For example, people here do not refer to buses as "autobûs" but instead, "camiôn." People do not say "como?" for what but rather "mande?" People do not say "por favor" for please but instead it is shortened to "por fa" or a curious version that is "por fis." It has taken me about two months and inquiries to learn these few things. A big part of me feels thrilled that I can now say and understand about six new expressions. Another part of me is overwhelmed and dismayed that it might take more time than I have on planet earth before I have any command of the Spanish language. When do I put a rein on the self-pity? When does the feeling-sorry-for-myself-fiesta come to a halt? When I remember how we can all struggle to be understood in our own native language, let alone another. I think on the countless times I have directly witnessed the frustration and sadness of non-native English speakers in the U.S. unable to fill out an application, receive basic services, or be treated with rudeness and contempt. Patience. We need more of it. I need more of it.

The work week came a bit too quickly I'll admit, but nevertheless, I celebrated this morning with a brewed cup of coffee - not instant! It was very exciting and I realized how much I missed it. I participated in two events today in which I learned quite a bit more about CASA and it's programs. The first was a tour. The head coordinator of all the programs gave us all an example in Spanish of how we should lead tours for the visitors that come to CASA. Truth... I would need to record the tour and listen to the audio at least 150 times before I was able to execute a tour in Spanish for Spanish-speakers. Being a part of the sample tour and hearing the coordinators and promotores explain the programs was wonderful. I know that a lot of work is done at CASA. I know that many people are involved with all types of aspects in this organization. Still, during and after the tour, I found myself struck by a delirious awe at just how much labor it takes to run a non-profit. This is actually a good segue into the next event I was involved with (I actually pleaded to join) which was an interview for a new Executive Director. No easy task! The room for the interview was populated by ten staff members and the prospective applicant. The interview took two and a half hours. I had a difficult time understanding some of what was being said, but for the most part I was able to follow along. Interviews - a grueling thing to be sure. It's so difficult to be able to express oneself with sincerity while trying to hide one's nervousness at the same time! It's difficult to be able to address the concerns of ten different people. Still, you've got to do something! I realized that I could very well be in the position of the person I was was sitting across from today... very soon. How will I prove my strengths and capabilities? How will I prove that I have something to offer an organization or team of people that they can't function with out? To be continued!

Just returned from the market after an incredible afternoon in Mexiquito. I bought two tuberoses down the street and their scent is beginning to fill the living room. We ate too many pastries. We have soccer or "fûtbol" on the television. At noon we journeyed to the two and a half hour soccer game with the children at the orphanage. We are beginning to earn their trust. They played their longest game today and seemed to really enjoy it. A couple of the kids attached themselves to me, became additional limbs to mine. They wanted to be held and carried. When I was sitting on the ledge, cheering for the teams, yelling out "gooooooooaaaaalllllllo!!" I either had one of the kids wrapped around my neck or multiple heads resting in my lap. One of the young ones discovered the tattoos on my shoulders. He immediatley called out to some of his companions to come and look. I'm assuming, given the shocked smiles, that it's uncommon for them to see tattoos on a woman. When I said that the drawing on my left shoulder was a memorial for my father whom had died ten years ago, I heard a soft whisper, "Mi padre tambien esta muerto." I looked into the eyes of one of my new friends, and for a moment there seemed to be an understanding that passed between us. We have begun a relationship that is being built with kindness, shared vulnerabilities, dust, sun, oranges, piggy back rides, conversations about favorite animals, sweat and laughter. I carry our conversations and hugs, a welcome burden. I hope that they will continue to share their lives with me.

And one never knows what they may encounter in a work day! There are a zillion thank you emails to send out. There's a lot of work to be done on a computer, in an office, obscured from the sun and fresh air. Then, a young boy walked into the office searching for water. Turns out he's the son of one of the coordinators for the midwifery programs who is also a midwife and teacher at the CASA hospital. He informed me that he didn't have school today because his teacher was in a meeting, therefore he came to work with his mom. After we introduced ourselves he just sort of fell into me for a hug. We started discussing favorite fruits, the importance of recycling, and how lately, he loves to chew on grass. Then..." Do you want to do something awesome? Let's go outside to the playground and play!" Folks that would be a yes on my part. I ditched the office and the computer and tried to keep up with my new friend. He told me he could run faster than me because of his "Sketchers." We climbed the stone structure, went down slides, and played on the teeter totter. Then we went on a merry go round type of thing and he helped to spin us around until I was pretty sure I was going to throw up. Next, was the biblioteca. I read him 5 books and then he said "do you want to see the book I have in my mom's car? It's just so beautiful." This little man is so great!!! He brought the book in, which happened to be gorgeously photographed and was from the Boston aquarium. We talked about his favorite sea animal, the manray, and as he turned the pages he would say, "okay, would you like to see something awesome?" "I would love to see something awesome" I replied. Then it was back outside for another round of slides. Ahhhhh!!! How I love the curiosity and excitement of children. How they are in the moment. I miss working and hanging around kids when too much time has passed. Back to the computer with a bag of watermelon, chile, and lime...por supuesto, and happy I was able to play today.

Sitting alone in the Fortalacimiento office at CASA. There is an interview going on for a new executive director so I am by myself. The hum of all of the computers surround me and I can hear some of the children playing and laughing outside. I am waiting patiently for the woman who comes to CASA to sell jicama, pineapple, watermelon, chicken feet, candy, chips with salsa and hot sauce, gorditas, sodas, and probably more. There are lots of emails to read and send. There are thank you's to be written to the people that came to our event on Friday. I'm also hoping to research effective ways to raise money online for Colectivo 41. I shared the sour gummy worms my Mom sent me with Karen, the graphic designer, because they are her favorite. I'm thankful for the calm light, interspersed with conversations with others in Spanish. Slowly, I'm able to answer, and to understand a little more than I could before. I feel like I'm drifting cloth in the breeze. The world is alright in here.

Las mujeres. Today we shared an educational presentation on sexual diversity with some of the women at the prison in Celaya. The Colectivo 41 coordinators had already done the presentation on HIV along with the rapid tests last week with the women, but they requested that we return to talk about sexual diversity. There were five of us total. We each introduced ourselves and talked a little about our sexual orientation and preferences. We also talked about language. A few of the volunteers referred to themselves as "jotos," "maricones," and other derogatory terms aimed at people that are gay. They wanted to express how powerful language is. Now, there are many in the LGBTI community that are reclaiming derogatory terms so that they can shift the negative connotations. Nonetheless, they expressed that derogatory terms are still used in a hateful manner by people that are homophobic, and this use is never acceptable. The women were really cool. Many of them seemed very open minded, curious, and sincerely interested in learning more about terms and definitions that they were not previously aware of. When one of the volunteers pulled out the wooden penis that was our learning tool for safe sex practices, I learned a lot of fantastic new words and exclamations that I'll spare you all from for now... but they were good! The volunteers talked about ways to practice safe sex with men. The women were also shown how to practice safe sex with other women, something we all admitted, was never taught to us in school. The evaluations given to us by all the women that attended were very positive. Many of them wrote that there wasn't sufficient enough time, and that they wished the presentation could have been longer than the two hours we were given. I wish that we could return but I've gathered that it's not possible right now. So thankful for the time I have spent in Celaya, with the volunteers and coordinators. As for all of the people I met and conversed with that are currently residing in the prison I could not be more grateful. Many of them did not have to smile at me or talk to me or express any kindness at all. Why should they trust me, after all? Yet and still, I felt welcomed, and not by the guards, but by the prisoners. Today's food choice - a large container of fresh pineapple with chile and lime, guyaba ice cream, another green sauce tamale, and a sandwich with avocado and ham. Everything picante! A good night to you all.

So the work week begins and back to the prison in Celaya we went. On the way, Miguel and a volunteer from the Colectivo 41 community asked me if I wanted a tamale for breakfast. Ummm, yes! We pulled over to a gas station where a woman was set up outside with a cart and steaming containers filled with a dozen different kinds of tamales. I choose "verde" which also contained chicken. It was the best tamale I've ever eaten. I polished it off with an instant "mokacappuchino" from the gas station. My stomach felt like it was going to throw a coup d'etat but it was worth it. After we arrived at the center for rehabilitation, we were escorted to the holding area of about 14 men. These men were sequestered in this area as they were deemed more "fragile" than many of the other men. There were men that were sick, quite a bit older, and also some with physical disabilities. They were a very congenial bunch and were very polite and kind to me. After the "practica" which is the lecture given by Miguel, the men had the option of taking the rapid HIV test. Today I felt just a little more at ease when Miguel was talking about contracting HIV through "fluido vaginal" and "fluido menstrual" than I did last time. But only a little! I was hyper-aware of the guard standing above us (it was an open air room with a gated ceiling) who was holding an automatic machine gun pointed directly down at us, but thankfully, he went somewhere else after the first 30 minutes. Once the men were waiting to take their tests, one man asked a guard if he could bring some items out to show me. Having no idea what to expect, I was completely taken aback when the man returned with these super cool bags, wallets, belts, and CD holders that he had created from recycled paper. Then another man brought out his bag of handmade beaded bracelets, earrings, and rosaries. Yes, I bought some of the items, oh yes, I happily indulged. The man who wove the bags out of recycled paper gave me a demonstration of his work. He folds paper, cellophane, and pieces of cardboard with such rapid deft precision it's like nothing I've seen. He uses a thick thread and a cut up credit card as his needle to weave the pieces of woven paper together. He told me he had been in this holding cell for four years. He works on these projects every day. Every time there is a new inmate that is assigned to this cell, he shows them how to weave also. He told me everyone contributes, they all help to make the products. He also told me that people come from San Miguel, Querétaro, and beyond to purchase the products and then sell them in their stores at double the price. It's okay with him though, he relays that it's good for him, for all of them. I told him his work was beautiful, that I'd never seen anything like it. I thanked him, controlled my dam of tears, and purchased two wallets made out of cellophane and old Fanta soda wrappers. I also bought some of the jewelery. I had to make sure that the slip of paper with his name and the other artist's name made it to the right person so that they could be credited. I left Celaya sad and incredibly uplifted at the same time. We stopped for "nieva" or as I learned another way of saying handmade ice cream. I decided to get pineapple with a douse of hot sauce and chili powder. It was the only way to eat it, and it was one of the most perfect tastes I've ever experienced. I feel as though I never want to leave the sun in Mexico.

We pulled it off!! Last night was the first major fundraiser for Colectivo 41, the LGBT youth program at CASA that I have been working for during this internship. After about a month of meetings, disagreements, and many emails, I was able to experience the direct manifestation of our hopes and ideas. We had a gorgeous house to host our event, graciously lent to us for the evening. All of the board members and volunteers made the dips (Ted and I made salsa and guacamole) and we had vegetarian chiccharones, jicama and carrots with lime and chile, margaritas, wine, and lots of peanuts! One of the volunteers played the baby grand piano as Ted, Jim, Susan, and I all sat outside and greeted people as they entered. It was incredible. At one point we had a line of people that did not let up for 20 minutes. Every person and every face that I said welcome, hello, como estas, thank you, what is your name please, would you mind signing our sheet... towards every one of them I felt an overwhelming warmth. Michael Schuessler, one of the co-editors of an amazing book entitled "Mexico escribe con una jota," presented a slide show of the history of the LGBT community in Mexico. He told the story of the "41" - for whom Colectivo 41 bases their name. After he spoke, I could feel the energy of the people in the room changing. They were interested. Many of those that came last night had no knowledge of Mexico's LGBT history or the reasoning behind the program's name. Now they knew, and now they cared. A group of LGBT youth from the San Miguel community spoke. Each time one of them told their own personal stories the room erupted in applause. Then a couple spoke. They were lesbians, they had an 8 year old daughter and they were one of the first same sex couples to be married in Mexico City. They said they wanted to help be involved in a project that would help promote support for the LGBT community so that their daughter would grow up in a world with less discrimination. My face was becoming sore with laughter and smiles and the ongoing containment keeping me from screaming yeaaaaaaaa through out everyone's story. Joy, our incredible board director gave the final pitch. She relayed her own interest in being a part of the group and she challenged everyone in the room to give what they could. She ended the speech by starting the donations off with her own $500 donation. The room sort of exploded with movement and talking and excited gestures. We collected envelopes with checks and cash. Our goal was to raise $15,000. I know we didn't reach that goal but we created awareness. There are over one hundred more people on the planet that know of Colectivo 41 today than 48 hours ago. We left the party, after saying many good-byes with hugs and kisses and felicitaciones. Karen drove Ted and I to CASA where fundraiser number two was going on. Although we were all tired, we committed to staying for just half an hour. It was a change of scene to say the least. Music was shaking the auditorium and there were about 30 young Mexican kids hanging out, mostly against the walls off to the side. No one was dancing. At first I felt incredibly intimidated. Here we were, awkward, older, white. How the heck were we going to dance and not look just...really dumb. And then a few of the promotores came up to me with squeals and hugs. They reminded me that I had promised I'd dance, even if they didn't. I had said I would! Alright then. I grabbed Ted and we headed out to the middle of the HUGE empty dance floor. We started dancing, Karen taking photos. Eventually we were joined by Gabby the fabulous librarian and her adorable cousin. We danced, we hopped around, Gabby and Mauricio were all style and class, we even played the limbo. It was great! Later, as Ted and I walked home with a leftover bag of potato chips, we realized that it was like being in high school again. Most of the young people there were just trying to figure out a way to get drunk and make out with someone. Maybe we were just feeling sentimental but it was pretty sweet actually. I was really happy to be home before midnight, eating chips and grinning like a fool as to my good fortune.

Dîa del amor y la amistad. Yes! In Mexico Valentines day is a pretty big deal. When one of my favorite co-workers walked into the office this morning we gave each other hugs and she told me that in Mexico, it's not just a day for lovers but also for friendship, hence "la amistad." I'm typically a little disgusted by Valentines day, a sentiment shared by many no doubt, but I really appreciated the focus on the love for family members and friends here. Many of the promotores had balloons and treats and were handing them out to each other. One of my lovely co-workers gave each of us a chocolate heart and a red heart lollipop. As I walked around town there were tables set up to sell marshmallow love pops, roses, jewelery, and more. Meanwhile, in the main square by the parroquia, people from all over San Miguel were gathering for the "One Billion Rising" dance that took place worldwide today. Sadly, I was not able to attend physically but I certainly felt a part of it in spirit. Knowing many women who have suffered from physical abuse, mental abuse, and rape, today I held them all close. I did pray for healing. And today I feel very loved. It took me an hour, and the help of 8 different people (with 8 different answers given) in order to find La Conexion, the post office for foreigners. Our first package! My mom's package from the U.S. arrived today. Sour gummy bears, earl grey tea, black licorice, chamomile tea the best digestion pills out there. Dearest Mum, friends and family, I LOVE YOU ALL, every day, not just today. Every day and all the time. Amor y la amistad. Un abrazo fuerte.

The volunteer

Yesterday I received an email from the Regional IE3 coordinator for Latin America. He was checking in with all of the IE3 interns, making sure we were all okay, and reminding us that we were more than halfway done with our internships. I just stared at my computer dumbstruck for a few moments. What if I had decided to just do the ten week internship instead of five months? I think I would be a little devastated just now. Being the volunteer coordinator at CASA and being a volunteer myself, I realize how much time it takes to build relationships within an organization. It's a tricky situation. It's difficult to refrain from letting one's expectations and personal/professional goals get in the way of the actual experience. To volunteer- an interesting phenomenon. One has to be in the position financially to do such a thing as labor gratis. Then, one must learn the art of patience, as it can take an indefinite amount of time to develop trust within an organization. It's a worthwhile idea to leave one's desire for accolades or recognition of "heroic" acts at home. Shiny, poignant music filled visions of a documentary (guilty!) in which you star... helping the less fortunate, walking through dirt villages, holding the hands of precious children, laughing crying, sharing "exotic" food, for example. Yes, best just to toss these lofty goals over your shoulder before you even get to the door. There can be language differences, cultural differences, personality differences and more. People are working, working really hard to try and make an organization function and thrive. They might have time to thank you, they might not. They are thankful. What's more, as a volunteer, one must ask themselves - why? Why do you volunteer? I actually don't think that question will be answered, personally speaking, anytime soon. If I don't concern myself with the unwarranted pressure to have fabulous and amaaaazzzinnggg experiences everyday, than I just experience working hard and sharing time with people. I don't need to be responsible for more than that. Show up my friend. It's worth it.

Celaya

Today I experienced many firsts. It was the first time I went to a prison in Mexico. It was the first time I was in a space of maximum security. It was the first time I shared a room with 30 plus men that were accused of committing a variety of heinous crimes. It was also the first time I had a buffet lunch in Mexico. After we arrived and went through the protocol to enter the prison, we gathered in an outdoor room for a presentation followed by a rapid HIV test. Miguel, one of the coordinators from Colectivo 41 led the presentation on HIV. He discussed how it's contracted and the ways in which it can be prevented. Finally, he offered everyone the option to take the test. That is to say the men had the choice to take an HIV test and find out the results, surrounded by their cellmates, in about ten minutes. I was concerned that given a certain result, one or more of the men might not react, let's say...well...to this news. It would be more than accurate to say that I had multiple fears and concerns walking into this space. At the same time, I wanted to be open minded and I wanted to be calm. After the presentation by Miguel, the men started filling out paper work and lining up for their tests. Miguel could only do one test at a time and needed to spend a full 15 to 20 minutes with each person at the testing table. We were going to be there for awhile. A few of the guards called out that "pan" was being given out at the window and they could line up in an orderly manner to get some. I was invited to partake and one of the men kindly handed me three sweet breads out of his stack of ten. I sat down in a chair next to Terry, a lovely woman who was our escort into the prison. She explained to me that the jail wasn't actually a prison but rather a holding place for those that had been accused of crimes and had not yet been committed. Some of the men had been waiting to be sentenced for as much as five years. She told me many of them were visited by their family members daily and that most of their families had to travel for hours to get there. A few of the men engaged me in conversation, asked where I was from and told me of some of their own experiences in the U.S. I was shown a photo of one man's grandchild, a beautiful little girl whom had been born a month ago. Four hours later, Miguel conducted the final test. As far as I could tell, everyone seemed okay. Many of the men kept thanking us for our time. We thanked them and shook hands with many and said goodbye. They were polite and respectful. Any preconceived notions I had about these men were completely eradicated. Obviously, many of these men are in prison for a reason. Many of them might also be guilty of their crimes. Many of these crimes, could very well have been horrifying. It just isn't my job to judge them. They were not animals or inferior human beings. I will never know their stories or why they may have made the choices they did. I was also told some incredibly disturbing stories as to forms of punishment that were carried out there, on the prisoners. Needless to say, it will take an indefinite amount of time to process today's experience...if that's even possible. Thankful to the coordinators of Colectivo 41, whom continually inspire me with their courage and beauty. Thankful to Terry, the fantastic new friend in Celaya, and thankful for the ability to be able to participate in today's activities.

Saturday. Ted and I walked a dirt path along the highway to our soccer game at the Mexiquito orphanage. It was around noon and the sun was directly overhead. As we arrived and walked towards the area we would eventually be playing a game on, I heard Gangnam style blasting from a stereo inside and witnessed some of the younger boys with big plastic glasses on strike poses and finish up a dance routine. Side note- the song "Gangnam style" is EVERYWHERE here. It's literally the only song we hear when we walk to the markets, or by the pirated cd shops, cell phone stores, shoe stores... all over. I'll admit I had been looking forward to seeing these kids all week. The boys slowly starting milling over when Ted and I engaged in a little one on one soccer match. Mike and Ted started bringing out the soccer balls, whistles, and orange cones for the match between "Los Azules vs Los Rojos." The boys already seemed a little tired from the morning but they still wanted to play, and what's more they wanted to play with everything we brought. My sunglasses were taken within the first five minutes. They looked better on the boy that wore them than me. I brought out a bottle of water and every one of them wanted a drink and then wanted to hold it... without letting it go. I brought out my sunscreen and forget about it! Surrounded in seconds by pleas for "bloqueador, bloqueador!" I gave each of them a little dab on their faces and then Mike blew the whistle and it was time to play. I cheered along with the very cool Madre (as in she's kind and calm) who has been joining along with the games. She clearly loves these kids and has a fantastic sense of humor. Even when the ball was launched towards her head she just laughed adjusted her habit and went back to playing with the smallest child of the group, a wee little guy wearing a shirt with a pumpkin face, probably not quite 2 years old. This same little one likes to play a game with me where he brings me plastic bottle caps full of dirt and I have to pretend it is a treat and eat it. During the rest between games, one of the kids was looking at a book and when I expressed interest in it, he handed it to me to read. It was called "Perdidos en el Bosque" and it was a version of Hansel and Gretel. I read it five times, as each time we finished they would say, "again!" And with little hands wrapping around my arms, heads pressed into my neck, bodies resting all their weight on my back, I felt like I could read to them all day. Whistles blew and "good game" and "game over" were shouted amongst the boys as they ran off to the kitchen for their lunch.

Ted was pretending to be a "caballo" and giving piggy-back rides and after he was able to finally peel the last boy off his back, we shouted our good-byes and thank you's to the Madre and the kids. Next weekend Mike, the coordinator of the games will be gone so we won't go until the following week. I'm a little sad that two weeks will go by before we can come back. Still, we get to come back, and the thought of being able to continue building relationships with many of these kids is... YEA!!!!!!!

An ideal morning. Why? Because I woke up crabby and tired. I had finally checked books out from the Biblioteca thanks to one of my compañeras at CASA and all I wanted to do today was lay in the sun, read, listen to Lila Downs and drink ten cups of hot chocolate. With all of those wants hanging from the tips of my shoulders, pulling me closer to the dust, I walked to my day at CASA. After a short time, we had a two hour long meeting in the development office. I just listened with ever cell of energy I could muster. Listening without letting my crabby thoughts cloud my mentality allowed me to be present. My attitude shifted. I even started to understand a little more than I had before. By the time the meeting was over, I was there. I didn't want to escape any longer, I wanted to work. I started researching ways in which we could fund Colectivo 41 with online resources. I walked over to the building where all the promotores were working just so I could say hi and let them know I missed working with them. I was able to speak a little more Spanish that I could a week ago. I enjoyed my day in the office immensely, and then I came home. I'm not just making this up for added glitz; the chocolate really tasted better than it would have this morning.

How does one fund raise? How do you ask for money? Why does asking for money make some of us feel nauseated or like passing out from panic? How were you raised to think about money? Does it feel good to give money to a cause you believe in? If it feels good to give money, why is it so hard to ask for money? These were just some of the themes we addressed in our fund-raising retreat today. I'll speak for myself. I'm a little terrified of money. Correction - I panic and at many times lose sleep over the "idea" of not having money. Perhaps it comes from being raised in low-income family. I realized at a very young age how incredibly limiting not having money could be. Obviously, I didn't need to have a wardrobe of Esprit clothes, a Swatch watch, or 17 kinds of shimmering lipstick. I sure as hell felt like a lesser human at the time because I didn't though! I started working at a very early age because I believed money equaled power. Money would give me the freedom to buy what I wanted. Money could provide an exit from my hometown. Money could help me escape. And I really thought at the time, that if I had a pair of $50 suede knee high boots to wear to high school, I was one step closer to being a successful actress in New York. HAHAHAHHHA!! Ah, the teenage years...the adult years, how very little they differ in certain regards. I still think money will bring me freedom. Not all the time, but often. Money for clothes, shoes, shiny toys, and cars...not so much. Today's money fantasies; being able to fix my teeth, having good health insurance, being able to take care of my Mom so she can stop working, a solid year to travel around the world. So what happens when I'm approached by someone with a binder or a clipboard asking me for money for a cause... I panic. "I can't, I don't have enough, I just walked out of Whole Foods with a $4.00 beverage that's supposed to make me healthy but I NEED it...so I can't give money to help... And then there are the times when I do donate. When I donate just a little bit more out of my comfort zone, to something that I believe in and love. I have never ever regretted it. I have regretted walking away from others. Even though by many standards in the U.S., I'm just a low income student, I am still able to give...even if it's $10. Being in Mexico and directly witnessing how just a little bit of money (meaning less than $2,000) can provide the income for a peer counselor for six months, has shifted my own beliefs surrounding money tremendously. I can give more. I want to give more. I would feel nauseated and like passing out from panic if I did not. To all the proud donors out there, thank you for believing in someone or something. Thank you for giving your support. Thank you for sharing money.

We are getting ready today for our fundraising workshop tomorrow. There's a lot of details that go into this preparation. I will spare you kind readers from these details. I will describe some wonderful moments through out the day. Walking to the papeleria down the street to make copies of documents. The sun was close to us, warmth wrapped around my back and neck. I walked by the tortellerias that display dozens of raw chickens piled onto the counter next a small tower of egg filled cartons. I walked by the beauty shop, the car repair shop, the mini tiendas filled with everything from ribbons to a thousand varieties of Doritos. I walked past the children in school uniforms holding the hands of their parents, lapping happily on an ice cream cone or lollipop. I walked past one of the most incredible cactus plants that exists, I walk by it daily but it does not lose its awe. I feel lucky that I am a 5 month guest in this neighborhood. The smell of gasoline and dust, sun and soap, and the ever present corn tortillas frying; these have become the scents I am familiar with now. My feet ache happily each night from walking on these erratic cobblestone streets. I am slowing down and I realize how much I needed to. A lovely night to you all.

Today is a holiday here in San Miguel. It's the anniversary of the constitution tomorrow but it's being recognized today so as to give everyone a three day weekend. I think that's very kind. There has been an incredibly wonderful new development in our lives here - Ted is officially volunteering, by helping run futból games, every Saturday at the Hogar Casa Mexiquino, which is a boys orphanage. I go along with him to take pictures and shout support from the sidelines. The mini games were started by a guy from the U.S. named Mike. We met him one night through my IE3 contact here and within five minutes the idea was put forth for Ted and I to join in. This has been one of the best decisions we've made. There are two different groups of kids that play. The first are the little ones, ages from about 4 to 7. Then there are the "grandes" which are about 8-10 years. This last Saturday the "grandes" were really not into playing so it was just the smaller kids. Both Ted and Mike struggle with their Spanish, and the games are really informal (as in rules don't seem to apply too much), but the point is to have fun.

That we did. The kids went totally berzerk for Ted. Once they realized he was willing to be a human jungle gym and vessel for catching leaps into the air from an asphalt ledge, it was all over. A few of the boys kept returning to me so that they could climb into my lap and cuddle for awhile. I started scheming of ways that I could adopt them all - a feeling not uncommon to many, no doubt. The truth is that I can't stop thinking about them. It's a little haunting. Obviously I do not have the ability nor the wherewithal to adopt these children. I don't even know if would be a good idea if I could! I do feel that I can commit to spending time with them each week. Some things have become very simple as of late. Offer your love and respect. I think if one does that, even if things aren't okay, they really are okay.

Official date for first dance night!! Whooohooooo! February 15th, 8pm there will be dancing at CASA. The promotores, the counselors and coordinators and more will all come to raise money and dance for CASA. Names of some Dj's that will be present, get ready; Dj Jumper, Dj Panic, and Dj Cleopatra Mix!!! I'm really excited. I bought tickets for Ted and I even though there is another event that night for Colectivo 41 (cocktail party at someone's house)because I am ready to do some dancing. Today, I have officially lived in San Miguel de Allende, Mexico for a whole month. I have worked for CASA for a month. My feelings at this point are ineffable; too profoundly grateful to go into detail about. I just feel lucky that I have four months left (or more..hehehe) in order to continue forming closer relationships with the fantastic people I have met. This morning was the last promotore training. The doctor that had spoken to us a few weeks ago returned to address the group with answers to the questions the promotores had previously put to him. He said that almost all of the questions he had received in the "Bolsa Magica" or magic bag, were with regards to Cancer. So, he decided he would devote the entire morning's talk to Cancer. Ummmmm, never a super fun topic. Having directly experienced the loss of my father and so many other loved ones to various forms of cancer, it's not exactly the first thing I want to think about at 8:30 am. That being said, the concern that many of the youth counselors had surrounding the beast that is cancer was very moving. I'm really glad I was able to be there with them. Lots of question surrounding the ongoing mystery of what causes various forms of cancer. Concerns about lung cancer, prostate cancer, and breast cancer. The doctor was incredibly patient and kind. It can't be an easy thing to try and explain the complexities of cancer in an hour lecture but he managed to make an excellent go of it. Then the promotores went off to take their tests as I made my way to the office to write the beginning of many emails. I wrote to the five interns that CASA will accept for Summer 2013 to let them know they had been chosen. They don't even know, they can't possibly, qué maravilloso!