Final Days in Mexico, with a Weekend in Palenque

Right now, I’m sitting in the airport terminal in Tuxtla Gutierrez, waiting for my departure flight, looking out the typical airport window walls at mountains in the distance in every direction, and writing this post covering the final few days of the trip.

So, picking up at midweek of this week: after the discussions that resulted from my Sunday night lesson in San Cristobal, I wasn’t sure where I stood in the minds of the brethren here. So after the side trip to Xela, and when midweek arrived, I was pleased that the brethren here in San Cristobal invited me to speak for them again in their Thursday night assembly.

Then I was ready for the weekend meeting in Palenque, about 150-200 miles northeast of San Cristobal. Well, I was ready for the meeting. I wasn’t ready for Palenque. Darinel, his little son Jozman (sp?), his brother Leovardo, Elver, Delfino, and I went there on Friday in Darinel’s Nissan Sentra.

(On the road to Palenque; yes, that kid is on his cell phone)

San Cristobal, at this time of year at least, has a climate much like that of Long Beach. It’s been very nice weather. Palenque, at a lower altitude, is h-o-t HOT. Sweltering. It cooled off to “bearable” after sunset. Delfino, who lives with his family in San Cristobal, has established a very simple homestead in Palenque, following the establishment of a small church there. We had about 15 present on Friday evening, and maybe up to 20, counting some visitors, on Saturday evening and Sunday. All of the congregation, with the exception of Delfino, are recent converts. On Friday evening, I spoke about the Lord’s Supper, with it’s multiple purposes.
(Leovardo and Elver in the afternoon heat)

Then came one of the more miserable nights of my recent memory. The little homestead Delfino has established is one long narrow room. It includes a bed at one end, a small plastic table, a small wooden table for ironing, and a small table at the far end holding plates and cups and such. The windows (only along one wall, thus no breeze) have no glass, just wrought iron grilles for security. They told me that I was to sleep in the bed, and the others would sleep on pallets on the concrete floor, and a couple of them on 2 hammocks outside. I resisted the bed, which had a standing fan aimed squarely at it, as I had no more claim to the bed and fan than anyone else, but there was no rejecting their hospitality. Covers were unreasonable, due to the merely “bearable” night-time temperatures.

What they all knew, and I didn’t, was that mosquitoes would invade during the night . . . in great number.

With everyone settling down to sleep, I noticed that Darinel (Dari) and his 6 year old son were using empty water bottles for pillows. I rolled a shirt and sweater of mine into a pillow and gave it to little Jozman (sp?), and gave the pillow from my bed to Dari. There was a folded cover on my bed, which I would use for a pillow. And then the fan. It could be aimed squarely at me in the end of the room, or in a direction to everyone but me along the rest of the length of the room. Since I had the bed, I aimed the fan to everyone else. (Dari and 6 year old Jozman)

Then I lay down to sleep. Then after falling asleep, the mosquitoes came. But you know that half-asleep state when your mind doesn’t fully function? That’s where I was as the itching began to disturb my slumber. I was suddenly aware of a whole lot of itching, seemingly located along my shoulder, upper arm, and upper torso. Bed bugs were my initial thought, or perhaps fleas. Supposing the folded blanket used as a pillow to be the likely source, I cast it from my presence. But the intense itching persisted and spread. And the thought of taking bed bugs home to California kept me uneasy as well.

Somewhere during this part of the night, Montezuma began to reveal his wrath (for the second episode of this trip), though I’m not sure what I had done to incur his vengeful spirit. The toilet was in a small enclosure attached to the meeting place, across a gravelly yard/parking area. Back in bed, the itching from the unknown pests became unbearable. I changed postions to others areas of the double bed, still not aware enough to realize mosquitoes were the culprit, instead of bed bugs or fleas. No relief in sight. The next day I learned that the fan had been aimed at my bed to keep mosquitoes away from me, but of course I had turned it toward the others.

I finally couldn’t take it anymore. I got up to find sleep elsewhere. Out in the gravelly area was Dari’s Nissan Sentra. First door I tried was locked. Same with the second and third. Last chance at the driver’s door: YES!! I crawled into the back seat and slept in peace for the last half of the night . . . except when Montezuma called. Dari told me the next day he had also headed to the car for relief from the mosquitoes, but I was already there. I’m sure we could have arranged reclining the front bucket seats, but he went back inside to continue suffering. :/

I felt ill all of the following day (Saturday), and took a pass on some of the day’s activity: walking street by street with the others, handing out flyers, and eating breakfast, lunch, and supper in the brethren’s homes. I spoke Saturday evening seated in a chair. Nausea and other complications made standing for that length of time an unwise choice. My topic, for these recent converts in this new congregation, was submission to one another. With thousands of members in Jerusalem, they came to quick agreement on solving the problem of the widows and choosing 7 men to serve. That requires us to not insist on our own way all the time.

Saturday night, I allowed the others to insist I keep the fan aimed at me. I also slept under a sheet. A few mosquitoes still managed to get to me, but it wasn’t so bad. Dari and little Jozman slept in the car.

By Sunday morning, I felt entirely well again, with the exception of a headache, which was probably just the result of having no food to speak of the day before, and not an abundance to drink. But it was great to be past the other stuff. We had had visitors Saturday night, but they came in near the end of the lesson. We had more visitors Sunday morning, and they were there at the start time. As per Delfino’s request, I spoke Sunday morning on baptism and salvation. And not seated, but standing.

I was glad to teach there in Palenque, but as a place and as an experience, it didn’t leave an attractive impression on me. If I never go there again, I won’t be terribly upset.

We got back to San Cristobal about 8 in the evening, and I said goodbye to Delfino and then Leo. Then to little Jozman, who is such a gentlemanly little boy. I told him I hoped he would grow up to be a very good man just like his Papi Darinel. He said thank you. Darinel himself I would see in the morning when he would drive me to the airport in Tuxtla Gutierrez. And of course Elver as well. Thanks again to Elver for volunteering to translate for me for a full two weeks.

On Monday mornings at 5am, various ones gather at the building to pray together for an hour about all the various concerns they have. Sometimes this is as few as 5 people, sometimes double or perhaps even triple that. Following that prayer meeting, Dari drove me to the airport, with Elver and Gilberto traveling along, and I said my final goodbyes there at the airport terminal.

I’ll remember these brethren fondly. I hope I’ll see them again before too long.