Soledad

Hello All,
Well, it has been a while since I last posted, so I should probably give you an update on some of our excursions. As a means of celebrating our last week and also for the purpose of trying food outside of our host house, Leigh Ann and I went on Tuesday to the centro to eat at La India Bonita, a very Mexican restaurant with a beautiful environment and phenomenal food. We decided to share some guacamole, and I can say without a doubt that it was the best I've ever had. They also brought us some delicious rolls that were baked with cream cheese inside. For dinner, Leigh Ann ate chile relleno which looked very good, and I had their typical dish that included all the Mexican signatures--steak, beans, rice, fried plantains, a chicken enchilada with mole, and a chicken enchilada verde. Everything was so delicious! I always have a hard time remembering what to order when it comes to drinks because nonalcoholic drinks are often unlisted, so when Leigh Ann ordered tea, I did as well. It came with ice, and I made a joking comment about whether or not the ice would be safe (after I'd already downed a glass, of course). Well, while I was fine and didn't get sick at all, the result for Leigh Ann wasn't quite as harmless. I suppose I have built up an iron stomach over the past couple years. Following our restaurant adventure, we walked around the centro so that Leigh Ann could buy some things and then took a taxi home.

Yesterday, Leigh Ann and I went to Tepoatzlan, a little town not too far from Cuernavaca that has a pyramid in the mountains. Apparently, the climb to the pyramid is a beast for the conquering, but we were quite tired and, thus, opted to stay in the little town exploring the market and eating odd flavors of nieves (more or less ice cream). We first toured a church and an ex-convent though. The ex-convent for Franciscan monks has to have been the most peaceful building I think I've ever encountered. It was free of furniture and the architecture played with light and sound in a beautiful way. Simplicity is an astounding beauty. After the church, we ventured with a group from Tennessee to the market. The group was full of lovely people, and I enjoyed getting to know them. We ate in the open-air market (covered by tarps hanging from ropes) called a tianguis which really reminded me of the giant market in Comayaguela, Honduras. There were all kinds of things for sale--fresh produce, meat, huge chicharrones (fried pork skins), typical food, flowers, spoons, dresses, etc. I love markets like those because it's a community of people, and you can find anything you could possibly want for quite a cheap price. Because we hadn't had lunch, I decided to eat with the group at a little stand in the market. José Luis, our adorable tour guide, had mentioned how rico he thought itacas were, so I tried one. It was essentially two thicker tortillas with cheese and cream between them. It was pretty good although simple. The director of the group wanted them to try quesadillas with flor de calabaza, squash flowers, because it's a pretty typical Mexican food. They tried it, and one of the boys didn't want half of his, so he offered to let me eat it. I did so gladly and found that I really liked it. The flower itself tasted a bit like okra. After this lunch, we wandered over to a ice cream shop that sells famous nieves of various crazy flavors. They had so many that included things like--corn, avocado, coconut with chile, horchata, rum, tequila, and all kinds of various fruits. I tried four flavors--rice, guanábana, coconut, and tamarindo. They were all very good. I have been told that tamarindo is an acquired taste, but I love anything tamarindo-flavored. Anyway, we were supposed to go to an ex-hacienda of Cortés, but the other group took too long climbing down the mountain, so we just went back to Cuernavaca. We didn't really mind because we were pretty exhausted.

Overall, it was a lovely experience. The mountains in Tepoatzlan are phenomenal. They tower overhead, jetting into the sky, and are carved cliffs adorned with greenery. Meanwhile, the town is, I suppose, what I would consider a hippie town. The people there are known for having odd beliefs about extra-terrestrials, cosmic energy, and the like. With its eccentricities, it was charming, and in its own odd way, reminded me of Shepherdstown.

Today was quite a good day as well. I enjoy my grammar class with my new friends, Maggie Uno and Maggie Dos--two delightful ladies who go to Gonzaga. Although I doubt they realize it, I appreciate their accepting nature very much, and I loyally adopt anyone with whom I can share an unbridled laugh (which includes them). They let me ramble about Honduras, and they may even decide to come visit me there once I get settled. I feel very blessed to have met them.

In my grammar class, we are reading El Principito, or The Little Prince. It is a very good book, and we use it as a means of sparking deep conversations--which naturally, I am drawn to more so than any superficial discussion. Our topic today struck a chord with me and lingered throughout the day as it came up in my second class as well--loneliness, solitude, and the ability to enjoy being alone. Our professor, Daniel, talked about the difficulties of being mentally alone--although surrounded by a crowd physically, feeling completely alone in one's spirit. He described this as the worst kind of loneliness there is. For me, however, while I know the trials of this kind of loneliness, and I won't dispute its implicated difficulty, I have found that the times that I have been the most internally lonely are the times when I undoubtedly grow the most. Naturally, there is a choice in this kind of solitude, just as there is when we're physically alone. We can either choose to face ourselves and God, or we can fill the silence--internal and external--with distractions. Daniel was also telling us the importance of taking some time to be alone and undistracted while traveling since he firmly believes that situations of travel are the times when we are likely to grow the most--because we're out of our comfort zones and have no one else to rely on but ourselves. Or, in my beliefs, God. Having experienced this firsthand, I know it to be true.

This theme of thought continued in my second class--my last day of literature--with a casual conversation in Spanish with my professor. We began by talking about traveling in general and moved on toward a discussion of being alone. Both of us share a need for time to get away and be alone, and we both consider ourselves to be pretty introverted although we aren't afraid of people or social situations. We discussed how society does not teach us to enjoy being alone--the subliminal messages are always geared toward someone else completing you. We both agreed that another person never has this ability, or responsibility, for that matter. For me, having grown up with female peers that constantly have to have boyfriends, I think it is sad that women tend to never allow themselves the time to develop their own identities without a man or to learn to be satisfied with being alone. I'm not men-bashing by any means, but too many women--or people in general--attach themselves to someone else just because they are afraid of being alone. The expectation, then, is that the other person can ease the internal loneliness, but that simply is not the case. Thus, we put too much pressure on the relationship and doom it to fail in some cases.

There is a great importance in learning not only to be alone--what to do with one's time, etc.--but also how to truly enjoy being alone. It's not easy because silence and being alone inevitably lead to a choice of distractions or a choice of dealing with pain that's easier when left buried. I have taken both routes in times of loneliness, and I can assure anyone that the path of allowing God to unearth deep roots of destruction in our character is infinitely better than avoiding His all-seeing gaze.

As a result of these conversations, I realized that I truly have learned how to enjoy being alone. I have spent so much of my life since I stopped living with my family being, more or less, alone. I lived in North Carolina for a summer with no friends--merely working and spending time with my great aunt while realizing the reality that I truly had no home. While it was one of those times that I chose the road of distraction rather than brokenness, it, too, was a journey on the road to contentment. I took summer classes at Shepherd and lived with roommates I didn't know and experienced one of the most difficult internal bouts of loneliness in my life, but I can also quickly list that time as one of the most pivotal for my personal growth. I traveled to Honduras last summer and lived without the familiarities of people that I knew well and came to thrill in the idea of me and God alone. It was that summer that I felt what it means to truly be in love with God--and to know the delicacy of His wooing love for me. I traveled to Jamaica without really knowing anyone in the group from Shepherd and, once finally alone and undistracted with God, realized my need to surrender my time and validation to God once again. I have lived for the past two years with a pretty constant sense of loneliness at Shepherd just from living as a wanderer not tied to a group or significant other. And now, I have been here in Mexico--so thoroughly content. I know that many people don't understand how I have enjoyed this time of rest. I'm sure to some it seems that I have been wasting time in a new place when I could have been experiencing new things, but there is a time and place for everything. And, in this time and this place, the road I felt led to travel was one without my normal tone of busyness. Unlike in past times, it is not that I am afraid to explore; it is only the desire to be obedient to God´s leading--which in this case was rest. Plus, I don´t believe that this is the last time I will be going to Mexico. I have enjoyed this sunny waiting room and feel deeply blessed by the privilege I've had in being here. I may not know all the intricate purposes of God's plans and details, but I love engaging in the mystery of His leading and the privilege of blindly following. And I am so grateful to now understand that I have reached a place where I can be just as content (and in some cases more so) with simply being alone with God as I can being surrounded by those that I love. I am happy in any place, really, and I have learned that no matter what happens in life, that if I am walking in God's will, I can trust that He is giving me His best. Thus, those situations that seem bad or difficult, suffering-inducing or tragic, are His best for my character and for His Kingdom, and in the end, it will all be worked for His good.

With this realization, I now also patiently wonder when the time draws near for completely learning how to be joined with someone else, the art of sharing. While we weren't extremely close before we came, I now feel as if Leigh Ann and I are family. We basically share everything, and this is a dynamic that deeply blesses me. It warms my heart that she feels comfortable using or having anything of mine and doesn't have to worry about asking. (It reminds me of what I believe God wants our relationship with Him to be. He's wants to share and lavish His best on us without reservations.) I am grateful that she has such an open, willing heart that she shares with me as well--life stories, possessions, food, and memories. I love that she can look at me at the dinner table, and I can know--without any words--that she wants half of my piece of bread. I love that she reminds me to put on sunscreen, and when she's done drinking from her water bottle, she automatically holds it out to me for a drink. While I don't necessarily know her opinion on the matter, I can't help but believe that God orchestrated our being here together and paved the way for our friendship because, for me, it has probably been the most precious part of this trip. And, I also believe it has been its own journey on my road to learning how to share all with someone else.

While I do believe that there is a deep value in learning how to be alone with God--content in His presence and in splendid awe of His depths--I also believe that once we have reached that place, there comes a time to learn to give up this lavish solitude to share that gift with someone else. This belief is echoed by the very nature of Jesus. He was already in a place of perfect unity with God. He enjoyed His presence and thrived in the joy of their solitude. But, He was also obedient when God sent Him forth to share that gift with others. Solitude with God was still His lifeblood when He was on earth as He often got away from others to pray and be alone with God, but He willingly went forth into utter despair and loneliness, away from the comfort and love of the Father, so that others could get real with God and experience His solitude and love. This is the road that I know I am called to walk very soon. I now believe that I understand what it was that I was waiting for before all of His promises could come to fruition--a true security and contentment in His solitude. And now, I welcome the opportunity to share--with unbridled abandon--with others.

With unspeakable love,
Sarah