¿te puedo ayudar?

In the one month that I´ve been living in Tlaxco, I´ve asked ¿te puedo ayudar?/can I help you? countless times. Usually when I´d say these words, I´d be awkwardly standing towards the wall or corner fiddling with my hands and watching people in my host community effortlessly swirl about -cleaning, cooking, preparing, organizing, getting kids into line, giving out instructions, returning homework etc etc. I´d keenly observe what was going on around me, ask if I could help in someway and await (hopefully) very detailed instructions on how I could possibly assist in a non obtrusive and at least somewhat productive way.
Poco a poco/little by little , I´ve be able to integrate myself more and more into the work of la escuelita and my home, thanks entirely to the seemingly boundless patience of my host family and the other teachers at IEIMC. They have so graciously allowed me and my broken spanish to "help," whether they truly needed another set of hands or not (usually the latter). They saw my desire to be in community with them and patiently allowed me to "help." They saw my desire to belong, to contribute, to do something other than awkwardly watch and fiddle with my hair. In allowing me to help, they´ve in turn provided me with the critical help I needed in these awesome, uncomfortable and challenging weeks of transition. They've provided me the opportunity to carve out little spaces and places of regularity and routine. They've helped me begin to build an identity in this community  that is built on tasks and action, one that goes beyond my obvious foreignness.
The joy I felt this week when I successfully put away the dishes in their correct spot with my host mom after comida was  ridiculous. When she smiled and noted, "I didn't even have to tell you where they belong!" a sizeable lump of gratitude and contentment grew in my throat. Slowly feeling like I'm becoming a part of this community, in moments such as these, has brought so much peace to a time when peace can sometimes be elusive.
Help is a tricky thing, this year I'm sure will continue to challenge my understanding of help and helping. For now, I'm happy to say that over the past few days I've lessened my usage of "¿Te puedo ayudar?" Now I more often find myself saying te ayudo/I'll help you, or even better, just silently beginning to work alongside my companions without feeling the need to announce my presence.
 In the month that I've been living in Tlaxco, I've come to feel that our cultural understanding of help really rather wonky. I always felt the need to ask permission before offering assistance or beginning to work alongside. I never really thought about the words I was saying, I asked "te puedo ayudar" so thoughtlessly it was almost a reflex. As I began to pay closer attention to myself and my surroundings, I realized that for as many countless times I've asked permission to help, that same question was never asked of me.
My host sister didn't ask if I understood the meaning of the idiom she just used, she just kindly explained it to me, knowing it wouldn't have been something my Spanish minor would have covered. When my host mom saw that I was walking around the house without sufficient slippers for our tile floor, she immediately gave me an extra pair of her daughter's. When I so clearly had no idea what I was doing in the hortaliza/garden, Maestra Lupita didn't ask me if I needed or wanted help, she just drew me a diagram of the different plant beds so that I would better understand. The complete stranger seated next to me on the bus to Apizaco who saw that I was unsure and uncomfortable, made sure I knew when and where I should get off.  In four short weeks here I could fill a lengthy notebook of the times I've received help that I neither asked for nor was asked if I needed.
I think I've never been asked "te puedo ayudar" because it's a silly and irrelevant question. When my community saw an awkward, tall, homesick, unsure, blonde gringa, they immediately showered me with love, support, and help. They saw a need and responded. There was no need to ask any questions.
I think we hesitate and ask "te puedo ayudar" because we worry that stepping in to assist another is assuming that they can't do it on their own. When we need to ask for help, we feel we've failed. In a culture that puts an absurd and at times harmful premium on self sufficiency and independence, asking for help means we've fallen short. Help leaves us feeling lesser.
My experience this past month has proven to me the ridiculousness of this notion. The incredible amount of help I've received has left me feeling loved, empowered, lifted up, greater. My community isn't telling me "you can't do it on your own, so I'll help you," but rather "you don't need to do it on your own, I'll help." In one short month my community in Tlaxco has taught me what it truly means to be in relationships rooted in the notions of accompaniment, mutuality and interdependence. In the coming 10, I hope and pray I'll be able to follow in their example.

día de las salidas al campo

Most every Tuesday this summer was outing day. It was undoubtedly the absolute best thing about being the Pioneer B Area Director at Lutheridge. Each week, I would sit in the Senior Staff room pouring over maps of Pisgah National Forrest looking at new potential outing sites and debating if connecting this waterfall and that dinner site with this short hike would be a feasible outing. Every Tuesday lunch was like Christmas morning to me. As I ran about camp grabbing the last minute things we´d need to take with us for the afternoon, my grin was as wide as a six year old who got exactly what he wanted from Santa.

We´d pull offsite to the resounding choruses of silly camp songs and wind our way through the Blue Ridge Parkway. Between the songs and stories and jokes I´d hear gasps and little choruses of "wow" and "ohmygosh!". My heart would be so full of children marvelling at the awesomeness of creation before them. We´d arrive at our hike or dinner spot or base of the waterfall and I'd be treated to watching community develop in its truest and most unadulterated manner. Children would make friends with campers in other cabin groups, counselors would mingle with campers they hadn´t before engaged, new counselors would show initiative while returning staff would beautifully lead from the middle, meanwhile that one camper who had been observing on the outskirts finally dove headfirst into a new friendship and that one who´s faith had been rocky experienced the divine in an entirely new way. Outing day was my favorite day.

3rd and 4th graders head off on their salida

Every Tuesday this year at Instituto de Educación Integral de Magdalena Cervantes is outing day. Or día de las salidas al campo. Every grade experiences one class period out on the shores of the nearby river or in the fields and trails of the moutains beckoning just outside the school´s gate. I have the absolute honor of accompanying each of these groups. Tuesday is undoubtedly the best thing about being a YAGM at IEIMC. When it´s la hora de salir (time to leave) the children respond to the word "formense!" (line up!) with so much gusto their pens and notebooks are almost left spinning on their desks. After a mad dash to the school gate, the teacher performs one last head count (a very familiar move) and we´re off. As it is the tail end of the rainy season, we head to the river to take advantage of seeing its beauty before it dries up in dry winter season.

I´m pulled in a million directions as soon as we arrive the precious children are eager to show me their favorite spot to dip their feet in, the best rock for sitting and soaking up the sun , their favorite slope to roll down, the oldest and biggest cactus plant, and the best place to scamper up the rocks and admire the view. I watched classes of first and second graders sit in a circle and try to count the different types of trees around them. I saw the elation and surprise on their faces when they realized that there were too many to even count! I watched 3rd and 4th graders help each other to wade across the river so that all could be included in a game of tag on the opposite shore. I watched 5th and 6th graders get to just relax with their teacher, dip their toes in the water and talk about life.

The joys and benefits of outings are universal. By taking, even just an hour, to experience creation and the beauty of community without the bounds of our tiresome and meddlesome institutions we are treated to an incredible growth in relationship with one another and relationship with God. It´s no wonder that whenever Jesus meant serious business he went out-out to the mountain, out the dessert, out the sea, out the garden. Out into creation to experience it with His community. What a joy I have this year to get to go OUT and experience creation with mine.

 1st and 2nd graders pause and chat with their teacher about their experience