After almost a full week of being in México, I have finally found time to sit down and write about all that has happened since arriving. We are in a town outside of Mexico city called Tepoztlan and it allows so much room to breathe. Mexico City was great and fun and culturally rich and exciting, but Tepoztlan provides a sense of tranquility and coziness. We are here for a week of language classes before we travel around to the different sites outside of Mexico City where my country-mates will be serving!
This is a long post with more “we did this then that” stuff, so here are some shortcuts:
Part 1. Mexico City beginnings; Part 2. Migration & Casa Tochan; Part 3. Tepoztlan & La Jugarreta
[PART 1]We arrived in Mexico City on Wednesday, August 23rd before some of the other country groups even left the United States. We stayed in a convent that housed las misioneras Guadalupanas del orden de benedito. The misioneras guadalupanas were so kind and welcoming; the convent was definitely a place of peace for us in the middle of a busy city, crammed schedule, and adjustments to a new country. Frijoles y tortillas were a staple at every meal, and Hermana Candy made sure we were well fed. On Thursday, we traveled via metro into the city center to meet up with Meghan’s husband, Raul, for lunch and see some of the sights in the area. Mexico City is high up on the list of cities with the most museums in the world, but we only briefly looked at the Palacio de bellas artes, el Palacio Nacional, el Templo Mayor, and the post office (a palace in itself).
[Part 2] The following day we began talking about migration, and while I have had opportunities in the past to learn about migration from different angles and in different contexts, I know that my time in Mexico will show me an entirely new perspective. That day we visited Casa Tochan where my fellow YAGM Blake will be working this year. Casa Tochan is a shelter for migrants coming from Central America in search of a better life, Tochan being the Nahuatl word for “our house.” One resident at the shelter told us of the dangers of his home – Tegucigalpa, Honduras – largely due to gangs and issues related to narcotrafficking. He told us how was recruited by las bandillas to join at a young age, and his mother (who owned a business) was forced to pay a fee to the bandillas or suffer the conseuquences. Tegucigalpa experiences an extremely high rate of murders annually, along with other Central American countries like El Salvador and Guatemala (this is largely due to the United States’ demand for drugs and these three countries’ unlucky placement in the transport process). For many, the options in their home country are to join the bandillas, acquiesce to their strenuous demands, be killed, or somehow escape in search of a better life. [note: this is my interpretation of what was said, and is likely an oversimplification of the situation]
This year I will have the chance to learn more about migration from many sides, but I am fully aware that it is a sensitive topic. However, I am excited to get to hear many stories from people on the journey, and can only hope for myself to try to understand. I won’t always be the best at interpreting their experiences into sentences that are great, but in the meantime I ask you to consider these questions: What circumstances would push you out of your home and force you to leave behind loved ones? Where would you go if your country were no longer safe for you? What would you risk to have a life of safety, dignity, and hope?
[PART 3] We finished up our time in Mexico City and headed to Tepoztlan, Morelos, where we are now. Spanish classes began on Monday and my brain is so full of grammar rules that I am not sure I can handle any more (but we still have 3 more days). Today, after classes and lunchtime, we were able to visit a volunteer site called La Jugarreta, an organization that coordinates afternoon community building sessions for kids in different parts of Tepoztlan (which is a county as well as a city). Today we visited Santo Domingo, which I was told was one of the poorest areas of Tepoztlan, and played games, talked, and just hung out with the kids that attended. La jugarreta pretty much defends a child’s right to have fun in the midst of tough times. (I’m putting in a video at the end of this post that I think is along the same lines as La Jugarreta; different side of the world and different circumstances, but still kids needing to be kids). It was an awesome afternoon and I am so excited for my friend, Meg, to spend her year here.
I realize that was a lot. Thank you for being curious enough to read about life. & Thanks for being a part of this experience!
Peace,
Carlee
Keeping up with Carlee: YAGM 
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