As most of you know, I have spent a pretty good bit of time in Mexico over the past few years. This time has been exceptionally important to me with regards to my own personal and spiritual development. That place and those people have re-shaped my view of self, and have re-defined the ways in which I see my present and future ministry.
Here is a story about a time when it changed my view of self:
In the summer of 2005 I moved in with Iker Márquez and his family for a few months. It was the first time I’d ever lived with a family other than my own for any extended period of time, and it was really healthy for me. I got to see what being in a family was like. By that I mean that up until then I had only played the role of a child in a family setting, and here I was an observer of parents. I even helped out a little in the parenting process. It was really cool.
But often I would accompany Iker on trips that he had to make for work. He would go often to the city of Querétaro (about four hours north) because he had some contracts there. Querétaro is one of the most beautiful cities I have ever seen in my life—literally. And I have seen a lot of places. They have an ancient aqueduct system that spans most of the city that is really impressive. And the downtown area is purely colonial. There are no modern buildings at all. In fact, only certain architectural styles are even legal in select parts of the city.
For the most part it is clean and organized—a rarity in central Mexico. They are entering a contest to determine the world’s most beautiful city in the next few years, so great amounts of work have gone into making it look very nice. They even have little “Q” symbols all over government property to increase the continuity of the city’s design. All in all, it is a great place.
And it is a cultural center, as well. There are many ex-patriots from all over the world living there. Just walk down the street downtown and you’ll hear British English, German, Portuguese, and Japanese. The weather is nice, the food is good, and more and more people are realizing it is a great place to live.
That having been said, it must be remembered that not everyone has caught on to the cultural “bandwagon,” so to speak. For example, Iker rents a small apartment on a street not too far from downtown called Cerrito Colorado. In it he houses his factory employees when they come from Cuernavaca to work. In the summer of 2005 there was only one man (teenager) living there. Everyone called him Cacuate (Peanut). He, most assuredly, has not caught on to any semblance of a “bandwagon.”
We decided to stay at that apartment one night when we got to Querétaro to drop off some chemical products (Iker is a chemical engineer) and check on the employees. As we entered the apartment, I encountered what I will forever remember as the most disgusting sight of my young life. The place was a disaster. He had literally not cleaned up in months. There was trash, half-eaten food, dirty clothes, cigarette butts, porn, and papers strewn all over the floor. There were cockroaches running around all over the guys’s things. The smell alone could make you sick.
We went upstairs and found that he had been sleeping on a blanket on a tile floor—he didn’t even really have sheets. And above his bed was a poster of La Santa Muerte (The Holy Death)—the icon from an occult movement gaining more and more ground among Mexico’s youth. Truthfully, it was one of the most disturbing things I’d ever seen. None of us really knew what to do.
So we cleaned. Now keep in mind that we walked in the door about midnight, and that we had to be across town at about 7:30 a.m. to make a delivery. But we decided that it was absolutely wrong to let someone live in something like that (even voluntarily), so we cleaned it for him. We picked up all of the junk that was on the floor. We killed the bugs. We scrubbed the bathroom. We mopped. We disinfected. Before all was said and done, it took us a little over 3 hours to clean the apartment—and that was completely ignoring his bedroom! But we did it. We blew up an inflatable mattress and finally got in bed about 3:30 a.m. But by this time we were so wired we might as well not have gone to bed at all. So we sat up talking.
What is it about conversations late at night that makes them seem to be far better than those at any other time of the day?
It was during this conversation that Iker said something I’ll never forget for the rest of my life. He tends to do that, by the way! He said, “¿Sabes qué, Mateo? Soy tan feliz” (“You know what, Matt? I am really happy”).
I couldn’t believe it. After what we had seen and been through that night, he was happy?
I have thought about those three words more in the past two years than possibly any other three-word phrases I have ever heard. It has caused me to re-evaluate what I have typically understood as happiness in a profound way. The thing is, I think we define happiness in two distinctly different ways.
Wait…How do I define happiness? You know, I am not sure that I even know. I don’t even know if I recognize it when I see it. That might be part of the problem…
But he seems to. He finds happiness all around him. He finds happiness in being with his wife. In playing with his son. In doing evangelism. In working. He even finds happiness in spending time with his friends—albeit cleaning up a filthy apartment. He finds happiness in everyday life.
I think if I were honest, I find happiness in the extraordinary events that happen every so often. Maybe that is how I define happiness.
So what exactly is his rather long post about? Well, I guess I don’t really know. I think it is about how I want to just be happy. How, if I were honest, I already am happy—or at least have the potential to be. Or, it might be about the dangers of living a dirty apartment rented by your boss. It might be about how beautiful Querétaro is. Perhaps this post can be about whatever you want it to be about. I’ll let you be the judge of that.
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