Arriving in Oaxaca

Friday December 1

I am making my way to Oaxaca during the Christian season of arriving known as Advent--those weeks leading up to Christmas that both remember and anticipate the arrival of Christ in our midst. I have thought of Mary often during these last days and how she and Joseph made their way to Bethlehem. Was her mother tearful when they rode off? Was her family worried about her safety? Did she hear the sounds of unfamiliar languages swirl around her? There must have been uncertainty and wonder, fears and expectations. And even when you do finally arrive, when you lean back on that hay bale and let Joseph rub your aching feet, when your head is on a pillow and you’ve texted your loved ones, “I’m safe at my casita!” the journey is still not over.



Saturday December 2
My host was not expecting me until Monday but luckily was home and my lovely room was ready. Though I roused her late in the night, she did not say with a surly voice, “We have no room!” She said welcome, welcome, welcome, gave me everything I needed and had breakfast ready when I came down this morning at 8. Unfortunately, my camera fell out of my main carry on and did not make it out of the shared taxi I took to her house. Perhaps the company will be able to track it down, but perhaps not. Some things are found, and some are lost. The main point being, until Lindsey arrives, this may be a picture-less blog. Well, perhaps the other main point is that I feel ridiculous and incredibly irresponsible for losing such an expensive item only minutes after I arrived to Oaxaca and it put a cloud over my day. At this point it will either be returned, or it won’t. Channeling Tracy Chapman…”it’s only paper, it’s only ink…” and remembering the wisdom I learned in parenting group--tomorrow is another day, a re-creation, a chance for a new beginning.