La Lucha Diaria

Adam: I feel like writing. It has taken me nearly a month to discern any understanding of this place of contrasts they call Mexico. I didn't come here to discover any answers to big questions, but simply to be and to see. To be here, with my family, and to see what happens. I don't think I've reclaimed a profound understanding of this wild land and it's people. But I think, as we near our departure, I've come to an aceptance of my misunderstanding. I suddenly have a lot of thoughts.

Our days here have been quite simple. While the family awakens, makes juice and boils water for coffee, I start the day washing the previous day's clothes in the cooler. I scrub and rinse and wring, wishing for a lesson from the woman two roofs over who does the same with her hotel's bedding. Even though I wear each of my two shorts a week at a time, the abundance of crumbs and sauces produce a lot of grubbly little shirts from the short guys. Anyway, after laundry, I sit down with the rest of Mexico to a late and large breakfast. Usually Cheerios and fruit or Huevos Rancheros-- which I coud eat every day for the rest of my life.... After breakfast, we wash the pan, sporks an bowls and spend a while dancing,playing,cuddling and getting dressed. Sometimes Talon has Sports Camp, or we have Spanish class, but if not, we spend the morning finding a new place to explore. Without going far, we have seen a lot. From the vast tunnels beneath the pyramid, a colonial church or fort, a museum or just a random avenue of our neighboring city, Puebla, the third largest in Mexico. If we don't make it home for lunch (around 2 or 3), we find a tiny taco joint or torta shoppe. A torta is a mexican sandwich, usually with some fresh meat, cheese, beans, and chilies. They are delicous, huge, and usally a buck and a half. After lunch, we rest in a pile back at our place. Some of us sleep, some read or study. When we wake we wrestle and play again, then we head out with the rest of the town to the Zocalo (town square). There is endless fun there. A giant, slightly rusted playground that's usually packed; a DJ night and day; always cookies and corn; plenty of bugs for Eliot to admire; and a fine choice of outdoor cafe's serving everybody's favorite drinks. I could stay for hours. Just watching people. Young couples kissing openly, the line of shoe shiners and their customers, packs of teens playing soccer or just being cool, and everywhere the kids kids kids. My favorites, though, are the old men. They sit alone or together on the benches. Some just sit and watch, others chat or play dominoes, some quietly slip off their shoes and take a nap. Their faces tell stories, and each has his own incredible hat and bike. Maybe they never drove, or gave it up, but the bike culture here is owned by the old guys. Their rides are as old as they are (one guy I talked to got his from his abuelo), but they are shiny and clean, and tricked out with a lifetime of racks and horns and fenders and mirrors. We freakin love the zocalo. While we're there, we stop at the market for some freshies, the bakery for hot bread, or the tortilleria for a kilo of, yes, tortillas. Then the rains come and everybody scatters. At home we have a snack and a shower, read or watch a movie, then do it all over again.

We are accomplishing very little, save living. I came with a dream of many poems and paintings and projects. But we've discovered, I think, that simply living has taken up most of our time. Like the rest of our neighbors, we have been primarily concerned with living through the day as best we can. The washing takes a while, cooking and cleaning is slow, we have to run for water every other day. It's fun.. but it's arduous. We've had a heck of a time staying healthy, clean and fed... and raising our kids(and attempting to patiently answer each of Talon's 10,000 daily 'Why' questions). Compared to most of our neighbors, our day is a breeze. But after some time here, I think we've come to understand their attitude, and it's amazing. Let's get through today as best we can. If we make it til tomorrow and we're still smiling, that's enough.

La Lucha Diaria, the daily struggle, is a reality that the majority of Mexican people live with and accept. Sixty percent of the people live at or near poverty-- they spend what they make each day. A shrinking minority live in the middle class, with a car and a respectable house. They work hard long days to pay for their home and a decent school for their kids. The top 10 percent are wildly rich-- connected to the corrupt business and government that hoardes cash. We see them in their luxury cars and that's all. La Lucha Diaria belongs to la gente. It belongs to the kids who spend their day selling gum on the street, the women who sit with their children all day next to ten jars of honey, or cactus leaves, or vanilla sticks. Or the men who juggle fire or clean windshields at stoplights. After waving these guys off for a thousand miles, we had collected enough junk on our glass to actually need one. He squirted soapy water from a gatorade bottle, scrubbed it with a handful of rags, and expertly wiped it with a piece of shoe rubber in one hand. His speed and quality were remarkable, and his smile showed his satisfaction with a job well-done. I slipped him 10 pesos and we went forth in clarity.

I am not fooled. The poverty and desperation that so many people on Earth live through is apalling and unjust. We should always do whatever we can to raise each other up and aim for equality. But what I have seen in Mexico is that the outlook of these 60-70 million who live day to day is one I can learn from. I am not selling Pepsi to a traffic jam, but I have my own struggles. We all do, don't we... What I have learned here is that we don't always have to run from it or overcome it. We can accept our struggle--even be glad for it. These folks are not angry or wanting pity. They are hard working and true-loving. They are passionate, and genuinely overjoyed and gratetful of the smallest fortune. They are constnatly celebrating and smiling at our kids. They are anything but complacent, totally aware, and live a strong, colorful existence. Without hesitiation, they embrace life, and appreciate the miracle of existence in its totality. The saying is, " Mientras hay Lucha hay Vida, y mientras hay Vida hay Lucha" While there is struggle, there is life; and while there is life, there is struggle"