As we say in Spanish, I recently ‘completed’ my 22 year of life and began my 23rd. As we say in Nahuatl, I started ‘carrying’ the 23rd ‘leaf’ of my life. I love that because it makes me feel like a big, blooming, grounded tree. I can honestly say that for the first time in my life, I woke up and I actually felt older, and perhaps debatably wiser. I tend to reflect pretty deeply each year on my birthday, and this year was no different. I think this year I’ve changed quite a bit, just from experiencing everything that has come my way these past few months. Without putting any qualifiers on it, I’m just different. If anything, this year has taught me a lot about humility, friendship, what we value in life, what it means to be in community with others, and above all generosity.
I have to admit, my birthday (much like a lot of the other holidays I’ve spent here) was a little rough going at the start. Even 9 months into this experience, I’m still taken aback by, for lack of a better descriptor, unexpected expectations that show up at the most random times. Something as little as not seeing the birthday doughnut my parents always loving put out for me at breakfast, or even just being around the three people in the world who are obligated to care about the day I came into the world was enough to leave me feeling a little weird. But I set about my day as normal, and tried not to let homesickness envelop me. “I only have a few weeks left here,” I thought to myself. “It makes no sense why this is hitting me so hard!”
But little by little, throughout the day, new moments happened that made the day just as great. I saw my friend Fatima, and she gave me the biggest hug of the whole day. Even though she was working and was tending to 3 or 4 different tables at the time, she still took the time to leave the restaurant, greet me and talk with me. She wasn’t ignoring her customers, but she also gave me the greatest gift of her undivided attention that made me feel celebrated and loved. I admire her grace and unrestrained, joyous friendship no matter what time of day it may be. It is definitely one of the greatest gifts I’ve received all year.
A few hours later, I was passing through the market to buy my weekly flowers and hunting for my favorite sunflower vendor, when (I’m not exaggerating here for dramatic effect, this actually happened) the rainclouds parted, and as my eyes followed the beaming sunlight, they fell upon Doña Tere and Don Antonio buying chicken. I hadn’t been able to greet Doña Tere on her birthday, two days before mine, and her huge smile was enough to bring tears of joy to my eyes. I hugged the both of them and Doña Tere whispered a sweet blessing in my ear that will always be precious to me. This couple’s care and ever-open arms have sheltered me in the roughest of storms and supported me like a third set of loving grandparents. They have given me many things, but their love and support is another gift I hold very dear in my heart.
I went to work on Monday, ready to start the second to last week of my English class with very bittersweet enthusiasm, and went to put my things in the office. Sitting there on the desk was my favorite doughnut from the doughnut guy that visits Roberto and I from time to time. I looked through the office window, out into the library’s largest room, to see Roberto sitting in his usual spot at the table, waiting for me to find this sweet little treasure. When he saw I had found it, he quickly looked away and tried to go about his day as if nothing had happened, as if he hadn’t just magically known the one thing my birthday is incomplete without is a doughnut. What more can I say than this was not the first time Roberto has sensed just exactly what I needed and doing so without looking for anything in return. It’s not every job where your coworker also serves as your ‘partner in crime’, occasional teaching assistant, dad joke stand-up comedian, empanada taste-tester, nahuatl instructor and unruly child wrangler. He has taught me that it is never okay to snack alone, and it is through his gentle, humble ways I have learned the true definition of ‘accompaniment’. What a gift it has been to spend each day learning with such a kind and hilarious human.
As if my heart wasn’t full enough from all that had already happened, a few of my most regular attending students came to class that day with mischievous smiles and their hands behind their back. I braced myself for a myriad of possibilities, because if there’s anything I’ve learned this year, it’s that your students can surprise you in many different ways. A sweet, quiet girl named Leidy presented me with fresh roses she had cut from the bush outside her house and a homemade card. Other sweeties came with mangos and a handmade tortillero that says “Ayotzinapan” and more cards with messages in both English and Spanish. I think I’ve said it before, but I’ll say it again, being a teacher this year has taught me so much. I admire these girls for showing up every single day to a class that is optional. Rain or shine, the sound of their racing footsteps and giggles approaching the library signal that 2 o’clock has rolled around and it’s time to begin. I remember when I wasn’t going to give them homework one day and they all threatened to yell and scream until I did. Their passion for learning and dedication to learning things well is incredibly inspiring. They are the whole reason I’m here, and their silly, studious dispositions have made me realize a lot about myself. I cherish the moments I’ve spent with each of them and it is an incredible gift to see how quickly they have captured the English language, and built their own little community within this class.
Now with a heart so full, it threatened to burst, I was about to leave for the weekend, when my friend Mika passed by the library with her two kids. We were talking for a while about all the happenings of Ayotzinapan, when she invited me to her home the next day. Excited to have some more time to spend with her and her family I readily accepted the invitation. The next day, I got to Mika’s house and her son, who we lovingly call Polloyón (the grand chicken), in his 4-year old excitement quickly exclaimed “HANNAH WE HAVE CAKE! COME LOOK AT THE REFRIGERATOR” ruining I’m sure whatever surprise they had been planning, and bringing the hugest smile to my face. With the cat out of the bag, Mika and I set to work grinding corn into masa and then rolling it out on the metate to start the tortilla process. Mika was the first person to teach me how to grind, roll, press, flip and cook tortillas to perfection. She’s taught me how to make a lot of other delicious recipes, and has invited me to join her in the entire process, from racing around to try and trap chickens, to harvesting banana leaves to wrap around delicious tamales. Each time I’m in her kitchen, once the fire under the comal starts burning, the conversation just starts flowing. Mika has such a huge heart, and has done so much to make me feel like a part of the community. After she surprised me with her famous mole and a delicious cake, I began to express all of my thanks. “Tasokamajtik, Mika.” Her response? “Taxkalsitsaj” It was nothing more than a tortilla. Her love for humanity and desire to foster community is something I look up to immensely. The doors of her home are always open and the moments we’ve shared in that kitchen with her lovely children are another gift from this year that I’m humbled to have received.
These are just a few of the people and moments that have taught me what the true gifts of this year of life have been. The people I have met have opened up their doors, arms, and world to me. There is something so incredibly humbling about having the honor to have received so much this year, without necessarily having the capacity to give anything back in return. I guess my one hope for this next year in my ‘tree’ of life is that I can take these gifts and bring them back into my life where it ends up next, and to do so with the same humility and grace I’ve witnessed here. My heart, mind, arms, and door are wide open!
Up From Below 