Mexico...el tiempo primero...Chasing, Loving, Hoping

Hola! So I'm back from Mexico, round one...It was amazing of course.  To see a detailed version of the trip and some pics, check out Kurt Libby's blog misterlib.com.  There is really only one story I have for you...other wise all you need to know is that it was a great trip...I fell more in love with our kids and fellow youth leaders and with people in general and with the ocean and with Mexican food and most importantly with Jesus. OK...the story:

We went to a camp on Saturday morning that the Oaxacan (sounds like Wa-hock-in) people live in and work in.  They are a tribe in Mexico that are considered outcasts.  They have the worst job, harvesting for farmers who pay them minimally and let them live on their farms in "camps."  They are uneducated because they do not speak Spanish.  They have their own dialect that isn't written.  This church that we were helping and hanging out with, Baja Christian Fellowship, has made it their mission to take these people under their wing and show them love and help them by giving them food and good news and clothes.  So we went to play with the kids who were chillin at the camp while the dads and some moms were all working in the fields.  There were some moms at the camp Saturday too.  We had all been using broken Spanish all week and getting by quite well but this wasn't helpful with these kids because they had no idea what were saying as they don't speak Spanish.  We had to communicate by touch and smiles and laughter and clapping and a lot of pointing.  The boys broke out a soccer ball and so most of the boys plus two of our studdly girls played 3 games of "futbol" with the boys while we other girls tried our best to teach some clapping games and ring around the rosy and plato plato ganzo (duck duck goose...duh!).  The plato plato ganzo was a hit even though I don't think they quite got it.  It was fun to run around and chase each other and pat people on the head.  So most of the girls were playing with us and some of the younger boys.  At one point I looked up from the game to see more kids coming out of the wall they lived behind. (Did I mention we were in the middle of a dirt road next to the wall to their camp?) I tried to get them to play with us, but they were too shy.  One little boy though (we will call him boy #1 because sadly I didn't ever learn his name :( ) was smiling and I felt like he really wanted to join but was too shy so naturally I picked him up and put him down in the circle and he jumped up laughing and ran away from me as if I should chase him.  So I did.  Another boy wanted to be chased too. (boy #2) So I started chasing both boys and then they started running in opposite directions.  Boy #1 was running toward the group and boy #2 away so I was torn but felt like I should chase boy #2 and bring him back to the group to play.  He started booking it in the opposite direction.  I started running and realized at one point that I wasn't going to catch him.  I stopped and he stopped and looked back at me.  I took a step and he took a step.  I knew at that moment that I was going to need to chase this kid even though I wasn't going to catch him.  I feel like I hear Jesus in my head (who knows if that's just me, but I feel like it is Him) a lot of the time and at the moment I felt like He said, chase that kid Angie.  I thought about it for a second because I was in jeans rolled up to capris, a black shirt, and flip flops on a hot hot hot, dirt road and the last thing I wanted to do was run.  In that moment I felt so privileged and spoiled and American that it makes me sick thinking about it.  I ran after that kid knowing that I wouldn't catch him.  I ran and he ran and he kept looking back to see if I was still there.  I ran after him about 3/4 of a football field length I think, until he re-entered the fields.  I stopped and watched him and yelled in Spanish, even though he couldn't understand, and waved my arms, and pleaded with him, close to tears, to please come back and play with me and share in the love and the laughter and the peanut butter and jelly and juice. I watched and yelled and waved until I couldn't see him any more.  He kept looking back at me every few min.  Who knows.  He could have been thinking the whole time, what the crap is that white girl doing chasing me?  But I do hope beyond all hope that he felt worth it.  That he felt worth being chased down the road.  I feel like we all run hoping that someone will just chase us even though we know we won't be caught for one reason or another...fear, hurt, sadness, insecurity, etc.  If we could just be chased and know that someone wants to play with us, love us, feed us, hold us, so much that they will run until they can't see us any more or we give up and fall into their arms.  I thought about it all day, and it made me cry at some points because above all, those people, and all the people for that matter...you, me, everyone, just wants to be chased and loved and held.  I hope he felt worth it, because he is.  That is all...