La Estación - a prayer request

I wrote a lot in my last newsletter about the neighborhood where I spend most of my working hours, la estación. I feel it's important to share a news update, but I first want to stress that I am fine, that there's no reason to think I'm in any more danger now than I was when I first agreed to come to Mexico, and that there are lots of people spending a lot of time thinking about my safety.

image via google search, which took me here

The thrust is this: please be praying, in whatever way you can, for the people of this community. For their safety, for their peace, for their restored ability to trust one another, for the opportunity and the challenge we now face: to join one another in the small steps that can better our world.
Two weeks ago, four people were kidnapped, ostensibly by narcos, or drug traffickers (I say ostensibly, since there hasn't been an official press release about this, but the overwhelming evidence is that this is the case, and there's no real reason to doubt it). This isn't exactly a new thing for la estación--as I mentioned before, the neighborhood has a history of involvement with a variety of illicit and illegal behaviors. One man's body was found a day later. Two men came home badly beaten within the week. The woman they took has yet to reappear, either dead or alive.

The man who was killed is the cousin of one of the women who helps with the breakfast program, and she told me they knew he was selling drugs. I want to stress this point, because Cuernavaca is not like Ciudad Juárez. The thing that scared us most during my BSC year, the thing that continues to scare anyone who's paying attention to the news, is the random nature of the violence in Juárez, best described as narco terrorism. The narcos there want everyone to be afraid, to be mistrusting. In Cuernavaca, it's true that the violence has increased in the last year. However, the people who are kidnapped or killed in Cuernavaca have so far been people with connections to drug traffic. It isn't at all random, and it isn't at all sloppy.

It is true, however, that the people of la estación are more worried by this disappearance than those of the past. Normally, people go missing at night. These four were taken in the late afternoon, before dark. I am told, "5pm." How this information could have been shared unless someone actually witnessed the event, I'm not sure, but no one seems to want to say that they were there, and with good reason. This, I am sure, is exactly the point the kidnappers wanted to make: we're not afraid of you, but you sure as hell better be afraid of us.

People are definitely shaken; the message was received loud and clear, and continues to be received with every hour that that young woman isn't found. I am definitely shaken; if I am perfectly honest, the initial shock over my circumstances had pretty much worn off, and I had started getting cocky. In retrospect, I wonder if I had been paying enough attention to my surroundings at all times.

I do not think there is a "bright side" to all of this. It is horrible, no matter who it happens to. It discourages me that anyone ought to live in a place where exists a possibility of their mother, their sister, their daughter, going missing indefinitely. Of their father, their brother, their son, being murdered. What I do count as a blessing, is that I am experiencing this pain from the vantage point of the support the projecto offers. I honestly can't tell you what is going on outside of that small concrete building, but I have watched as these families "mother hen" everyone around them, regardless of whose nest they belong in. Where people I didn't know used to greet my arrival at work with puzzled looks and "You're here early," the past week was filled with pre-occupied smiles and "Oh good. You're here.... Serve that aguita for me?" More and more, they offer their names without being asked, they remind me which children are theirs (since most of my connections are via the kids, who only infrequently come and go with their parents or adults of any kind, this is actually immensely helpful). When people arrive and depart there are more hugs, more kisses, more "Promise me you'll take care of yourself." Were it la carolina (the colonia where I live) experiencing this trauma, I would have so many people to turn to. I wouldn't know who to ask my questions of. I wouldn't know that someone was always ready to walk to the bus stop with me if I asked. But this community, at least in the projecto, is different.

Which brings me to the decision that my work schedule is changing, at least temporarily. Usually, when I am present in the afternoons, there isn't anyone there to "care for" me. There has been concern about this from the start, but not enough to really do anything about it, since when I arrived la estación was calm. Now, after a meeting of my site supervisor, my YAGM country coordinator, and a trusted friend, it has been decided that I will leave in the early afternoons at the same time or before my site supervisor does. I will be working more--every afternoon--at my second work site. "If/when the situation improves" is a vague phrase, I know, but essentially we'll continue to keep our ear to the ground. Depending on whether more violence occurs, and when, my schedule may change again. Please, as I said, keep all of us in your prayers.

Te guardará el Señor en los peligros y cuidará tu vida; protegerá tus ires y venires, ahora y para siempre. -Psalm 120
Escúchanos, Padre.