Mexico Mission Trips - As much as I complain to people back at home about the temperature in Ruiz, you would think that I would not longer be shocked by the oppressive burst of heat when I first step off the bus onto the streets of my favorite pueblo. But here we go again: my fourth time traveling to Ruiz, and I still cannot believe how hot it is. As I walk to the church to meet with Abel, I grumble to myself about the relentless sun. Why did I ever agree to come back to this climate? I’m a winter girl, not a summer girl. In that moment I look up from the sidewalk to see a young man coming towards me on his bicycle. “Emily!” he exclaims, and I immediately recognize him to be Esteban, a worksite maestro who has helped with the construction the last few years. We enthusiastically shake hands and begin catching up on life – what have you been doing this past year? Did you travel to the U.S. like you had hoped? What are your plans this summer? It is wonderful to see him again.

Esteban soon rides away, and my team and I continue our walk to the church – a walk which sees little respite from the sun. Alyssa and I are getting pretty tired so we stop in a store to buy some water and Gatorade. As we sit in some lawn chairs, Jim strikes up a conversation with Rosa, the woman behind the counter, and together we all chat about the weather, her daughter’s school, and the friendly little dog that is running around the store. Heading back out to the street, Rosa makes us promise that we will come back soon.

We finally reach the church, which appears to be empty. Approaching the building, we find a neighbor outside and we ask him if he has seen Pastor Abel. He was around today, the vecino explains, but he hasn’t been in recently. We chat for awhile (his name is Jose) and before we leave he runs to grab us a pile of mangos, recently picked from the backyard. They are just ready to eat, he explains, and he sends us on our way with fresh fruit in hand.

As we begin our walk back to the hotel, my mind wandering with thoughts of Esteban, Rosa, Jose, and all of the others that I know I will soon come across, I no longer feel as hot. Mind you, there is sweat dripping down my back and into my eyes—but somehow, it just doesn’t seem to matter quite as much.

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