The World Outside Their Rural Mexican Village
Watching the “first time” through other’s eyes is a way to relive our own fond memories. One of the joys of maturing is recalling the “first time” memories that are burned deeply in our minds and hearts. Women usually recall their first kiss, a couple will reminisce over the birth of their first child and most people recall their first time seeing the ocean, being on a boat or some other landmark event not common to the locale where they were born. This is that kind of story, a wonderful tale of three children who experience, for the first time in the summer of 2010, life in a city as it is being lived in the 21st Century by the majority of people who live outside “the campo.”
“Campo” is the term used in Mexico to define a rural area predominately populated by subsistence farmers and day laborers, all called “Campesinos.” The legal definition in Mexico of someone who is of an indigenous race is someone who lives in a campo. However, that assumption (although legal) is highly charged because of the 14 levels defined in the social class structure in Mexico indigenous is the lowest. Most people will deny that they fit into that social class, even if by all appearances and all legal definitions they do.
Alejandro lives in our campo. He is the head of his family; his wife’s name is Irma. The high self-discipline standards set by Alejandro are reflected in his children. Far more mature than his years, tall, slender Chuy is a model example of refinement and class at the tender age of 11. He works hard to dress older than his years in a more formal style, excels in his schoolwork and he always watches out for the younger children. The only girl, Karin reminds one of a beautiful butterfly. She is a wisp of quiet and extremely polite beauty, a vision just quietly floating by before one’s eyes, never assertive or aggressive. At 10 years of age she looks like a carbon copy of her mother. Karin is more dedicated to reading than is common in the campo. The long time baby of the family, Bruno, at 6 years of age and with a square build, is a visual miniature version of his father. The identical twin boys, Daniel and Uriel, will turn one year old on August 3. For their age, they are much physically bigger than the other three children were at the same age. They look just like their dad while mirroring all the other’s quiet natures.
We learned early in our living among Mexicans that gifts are an important part of the culture. It has been our habit to give gifts to the family of men who we employ. Therefore, Alejandro’s twin sons have had the food supplement that Irma likes to have to augment her breast milk. This occurred even though it costs what Alejandro earns as one day’s wage because we have provided it to them as a bonus to him. The beginning of the school year is a major expense for all the families in the campo, last year we bought winter coats for nearly a dozen children of those fathers worked for us and for another non-profit whose construction project we had been overseeing. This year, with just two fathers working for us, we planned to offer more help to fewer children. Therefore, Friday afternoon I asked Alejandro if the family had any plans for Saturday since my husband and I had errands in Leon and we’d like to take the three oldest children along and get them some school clothes. He was agreeable but warned us that Bruno often “runs around.” I assured him that I had many dog collars and leashes; he laughed as we settled on 10:30am as a good time to come for the children.
We arrived in the ravine below their home at 10:30am. I walked up the side of the grassy side of the hill, past the rabbit and goat pens, wandered among the free-range chickens, ducked under the laundry laying on barbed wire lines low enough for Irma to reach and toward their home. I hollered “Hola” as is the customary greeting. There in the doorway stood all three children, spotlessly clean and wearing their best clothing overshadowed only by their bright smiling faces. They all three greeted me with wide-eyed anticipation apparent in every aspect of their body language. Irma greeted me and I handed her two knit shirts I found on sale the day before for the twins, she thanked me. I told her that we had many errands so I was not sure how long this trip would take; she assured me there was no problem.
Like the Pied Piper, the children followed me back to our SUV and eagerly but quietly entered the back seat that must have seemed very big to them. I had laid out two appropriately colored knit shirts for each child. They each sat down, waited and listened carefully as I explained how to use seatbelts. I helped them get fastened into them and each of them carefully placed the folded shirts on their laps carefully only examining the corners; not one of them opened the shirts until after they got back home in the evening; they simply grinned and thanked us many times.
The hour long ride took us up out of the ravine, along the dirt road toward the closest town over the yet-to-be repaired open sewer line that dumps into the city’s drinking water and left toward paved roadways. Within 15minutes we are driving on pavement and within 30 minutes we are on a four lane highway. The quiet voices in the back seat are in sharp contrast to the enormous eyes looking outside. When asked, they all said that they had never been to Leon. Bruno fought sleep the whole trip to the city because he was busy stretching his small frame so that he could see everything outside.
We entered the Home Depot, Office Max, Costco, Mega parking lot and parked. Not a sound came from the back seat as they carefully put down their shirts and joined us outside. Each took the others hands and carefully followed toward one store’s entrance outside the mall. My husband left us there and went to Home Depot alone while I started upstairs to the children’s clothing area. The walk was very slow past shinny furniture, appliances, cell phones, sewing machines and household electronics because the children looked in shock. We started up the stairs in silence. As soon as we arrived at the top a sales woman greeted us and sized up the situation: mature white haired lady with little suntan holding hands with three black-eyed dark-skinned children who appeared in a state of shock while obviously trusting me, she inquired if school clothes were the business of the day. I assured her that was our mission. She hailed a friend to take Karin to the girls clothing section and our work began.
Bruno wandered about 4 feet away to look at shinning plastic backpacks, but quickly recoiled to my side. I checked the size tag in Chuy’s jeans and then watched as he grinned full-faced when I asked him to choose if he’s rather try on acrylic dress pants or blue jeans. The dress pants won out and off he went with the sales lady and four pairs to try on. Turning my attention to 6 year old Bruno I discovered that his way too big jeans had a 4” cuff, so checking sizes didn’t help. We checked out dress pants, jeans, camo pants, and then “pop” his eyes replied when he spotted the cargo pants. We settled on one size 4 and one size 5 in the same color and style before we turned toward socks. Chuy picked out a three pair set of 2 black and one white; all very mature in style to go with his two pairs of navy blue slacks. Karin was back with her sales lady asking questions when Bruno spotted the single red, white and blue pair of loudly printed socks that he chose. Then we all turned to join Karin in the girl’s area where the shoes were also located.
We picked out shoes for Karin first. There were about 12 pairs to choose from and that was simply too many. The saleslady was priceless in knowing that narrowing it down to two pairs was far more manageable. Karin agreed that just a little bigger would make them last longer. The black Mary Janes with a Velcro strap and a heart on the side were her choice. I lifted Bruno onto a chair seat to see the 20 pairs he had to choose from; he was not at all intimidated and got just the pair of slip on black with Velcro closure he wanted. Like Bruno, Chuy knew just what he wanted to replace the highly stylized and too large, shoes he was wearing. I noted that each of them chose very sensible, black shoes with gripper soles that making walking in the campo so much easier, not a rhinestone or fad design in sight. The children were unable to locate tennis shoes to fit them in a style they liked, so it was over to the backpacks instead.
Chuy wanted a poor quality blue backpack that said “America” on it and Karin a very cheap one with Tinkerbell (and the Disney logo). I placed each of the backpacks they chose on a table surface with a much higher quality one beside it. Chuy picked up the all black backpack with multiple compartments, a water bottle holder and a separate cell phone sleeve. He rejected the poor quality blue backpack. Karin left Tinkerbell in favor of a lovely blonde girl on the first of many compartments, a water bottle and a separate cell phone holder. The two of them helped Bruno to make the same wise decision as Spiderman was overridden for an unnamed “monaster-boy” backpack with many compartments, a water bottle and a separate cell phone holder.
Time stood still as we all waited for my husband Don to come back from Home Depot. Don asked that we allow him to make sure they each had good quality shoes before paying. So we waited upstairs, and downstairs and outside and finally Don joined us. Don carefully examined each item and double checked shoes sizes and quality. Once again the saleslady was invaluable. We made three piles on the counter: shirts, pants, socks, shoes and backpacks. The two check-out clerks were clear that three bags must be supplied. Don and Bruno looked at the adjoining toys as we checked out. Each child approached to take their own bag of school clothes and off we went wondering if Bruno was going to make it down the stairs with a bag nearly as tall as he stood.
Don took the bags to the car after each child assured him that they were not hungry. Don explained that we were hungry and that they should walk with me to the food court while he took everything to the car. Again, hand in hand, we moved long but this time into a busy mall. Each child was clearly stunned at the quantity of items within their range of view. The passage of time was significant as the paused to look at the array of items for sale. The fact that none of them had ever been in a mall before was evident in their amazed gazes.
Once at the food court I explained that the 30+ shops offered many different items, including ice cream. Karin spoke up that she wanted ice cream. I assured her that was coming. Don joined us just in time to see us walk past McDonald’s and Bruno’s single finger digit point at the sign but not say a word. At the end of the row of stores Don and I settled on the green salad bar. When I questioned Chuy he sang out “Pizza!” and Bruno agreed. Karin said “ice cream” again but at the pizza stand she decided on pizza too. Chuy ate two really large pieces; Bruno and Karin one each, plus “Pepsi!” Bruno stated with confidence. Chuy had apple juice. Clean-up of the table ended with a trip to the bathroom where Bruno was very stunned. He had learned about seatbelt buckles today and now he was faced with gender defined bathrooms too. Still perplexed he followed Don and Bruno when I reassured him that was correct.
Like Karin, automatic water into a hand-washing sink was really odd to Bruno. Don was as delighted as I to observe Bruno investigating the auto water system in the sink. However, Don was able to cease that diversion with another: automatic hand-drying machines. Now that was a real treat for Bruno. He came out of the men’s bathroom talking a mile a minute to Karin about the auto-hand dryer.
Our last stop was the ice cream shop, Karin picked the one she wanted out of the two visible ice cream stores. Don resigned to none anticipating leftovers (he was right). We sat at a new table and Bruno almost finished his small cup before offering it to everyone else. As we sat watching them delight in sweet frozen cream with fruit I asked Don if he liked playing grandparents to these lovely children. His grin was a big as the children’s had been all day when he admitted that watching the “first time” through other’s eyes was a deeply satisfying experience. Like myself, he saw this days events as a rare opportunity to share a very intimate time with some very special young children having several “first time” experiences far later in life than our modern world might imagine possible.
The photo includes Bruno, twin’s food supplement, Karin and their folded knit shirts.
