Update from Mexico

Hi again everybody! It's been a turbulent, frustrating, and eventful week here in Mexico City. The bad news first; we have had a few illnesses due to unsafe water, and due the lack of a full schedule there has been a fair bit of standing about waiting for work to do, added to the fact that people tend not to be too punctual around here, we have had a bit of a frustrating time. The good news is firstly we have had a meeting to try to sort out a fuller schedule; secondly none of us have been sick in a major way; thirdly we have a holiday in three days, so hopefully we can return refreshed and ready to take on a new challenge.

The language situation is improving slowly; however, conversely considering the first paragraph, I seem to have very little time spare to practice it. I did, however, recently realise that the word I had been using for 'building' actually meant 'funeral'. I do hope I haven't offended anybody.

The same poverty that I talked about in my last message permeates the city; there are the very rich, and the desperately poor. You see it most on the city's metro system. On our first day visiting the centre, we encountered a beggar on the train, scrabbling about on his hands and knees with a filthy cloth, offering to clean people's shoes for money. It was the most desperate state I've ever seen a man in emotionally; he just seemed to have no pride or spirit left. We also saw a father and son begging; the father was blind and had been left behind by the national medical system; the son was school age and was obviously needed to help his father to beg around the trains. Together they'd enter a carriage, sing a negro spiritual woefully out of tune, and tell the carriage of their plight. It was the boy that I thought about the most; what must it do to his pride to be begging at the age he was, which can't have been more than 13 or 14? You could tell it in his voice - he spoke in a monotone, and when he sang, he just seemed gone. He wasn't even trying to sing the tune.

I'm glad I wrote those stories down. I probably wouldn't have been able to remember them for much longer; these kind of things happen every day whenever we visit the centre. The sad thing is that I'm becoming more and more immune to this. I'm starting to dismiss it as regular, just like the people who've lived in this city all their lives.

However, I don't want this message to be remembered as a depressing one, so here's a story that may cheer you up a little. Yesterday we visited the pyramids, which was tiring but great. (Although, to be honest, some of the architecture disappointed me a bit - I mean, the stairs are all wonky.) I was curious about some of the handmade souvenir masks a seller had on display, so I asked how much it costed. '200', replied the seller. 'Are you interested?' 'No', I replied, 'I've only got 50 pesos on me, and I need that to get home'. The seller obviously took that as an opportunity to barter, so for the next five minutes I stood there incredulous as he continued on reducing the price slightly, looking at my blank face, muttering what was probably Spanish for 'You're breaking my balls' and going back and reducing the price again. After a while the price got down to 50 pesos, and I had to walk fairly briskly to avoid him shoving a mask in my face and frisking 50 pesos from my money belt. I don't want to blow my own trumpet, but I may well be the best inadvertent barterer ever.

God bless and please keep praying for us,

Andrew