"Many will start fast, few will finish strong"
--- Gary Ryan Blair (Author and performance coach)
This was the last city I had the privilege of knowing while a full-time missionary of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints in Tamaulipas, Mexico. I wasn't here for very long, but as the chapter in which this story wraps up, the culmination of many emotions was had here. It was here in Valle Hermoso that staring at the finish line ahead of me, I could look back on the nearly 2 years of life-changing experiences with pride at just how far I'd come and how much I'd grown. Back when I was an 18-year-old, nearly 19-year-old newbie who could barely speak Spanish and feared what the future would be, I could confidently say that the hardest parts were over. Not only had I endured the challenges, but I had grown to love the life and the people.
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THE CITY OF THREE LIES
One last time, transfers rolled around but we didn’t know what to expect from them. This was it. The last transfer. Transfer number sixteen over the course of 2 years as a missionary of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints in Mexico. I'll remind you that transfers usually happen every six weeks but earlier that fall, our Mission adjusted them to be at the start of every month for convenience; this meant that every six weeks, you'd have the possibility of being moved (See "4th Area: Las Torres, Matamoros"). This sixteenth transfer of mine would determine where I would conclude my missionary service and with whom. I’d been in Bugambilias about three months, even though it felt much longer, and was down to my last five or six weeks. I wouldn’t have complained if I’d stayed in Bugambilias, but I suspected that if either Elder Ramirez or I were to move, it would be me who had spent more time in the Area (See "The Way"). We figured that at least one of us would be leaving because we were both still serving as District Leaders back then (See "Mission Administration"). A change in rising leadership was due to take our place since we were both in the dusk of our service. Elder Ramirez stayed in Bugambilias to finish his Mission and I was assigned to the Jardin area (which is Spanish for "Garden") in “La Ciudad Valle Hermoso” which means “The Beautiful Valley City”. Valle Hermoso (Vah-ee-ay Ehr-moh-soh) is nicknamed “the city of the three lies”. Why? Because the locals confess that, 1) It’s not beautiful, 2) It’s not a valley, and 3) It’s not a city. Well, technically, it is a city but not nearly as large as other cities. It wasn't a metropolis if that's what you're wondering. Not nearly as urban as you'd imagine a city to be. More like a large village. Far from shiny new buildings, but the same old adobe and stony-looking buildings. As of 2010, Valle Hermoso had a population of only about 50,000 which is nearly half the population of tiny Rio Bravo where I started my Mission. Depending on which half of the city you were in, 50,000 felt like an exaggeration. The whole city covered less than 15 square miles of which Jardin was the mostly agricultural East half rather than the predominantly urban West half where most of the larger restaurants and business plazas were. That is puny considering Reynosa covers roughly 1200 square miles! That means that Jardin was the geographical equivalent of 1% of Reynosa. What a transition! What a stereotypical place to retire, so to speak, out in the quiet middle of nowhere.
Valle Hermoso is out in the middle of nowhere, the second-most isolated city in the mission besides the forbidden San Fernando where Caucasian missionaries were not allowed to go for safety reasons (and Nuevo Laredo that used to be part of our mission for a brief time to the extreme far west); but despite the significant distance between us, the San Fernando missionaries were part of our Zone. Our Zone Leaders went to work over there with them from time to time. The bus drive from Bugambilias in Reynosa to Valle Hermoso takes about 1 hour and 15 minutes over 53 miles (86 km). The bus drive from Valle Hermoso to San Fernando is almost the exact same distance straight South. Valle Hermoso is about equidistant southeast of Rio Bravo and southwest of Matamoros.
There were three Wards divided between the two chapels in the city; our weekly P-Day District Meetings took place in our chapel a half a mile (850 yards) down the street while our Zone Activities took place in the chapel about another mile walk to the Northwest (See "P-Days & Peceras" and "Mission Administration"). The closer meetinghouse, the one in which we attended Sunday meetings was also the Stake Center, or simply put, "the main chapel" for the city. We shared the chapel building with the Valle Hermoso 2nd Ward. Although it wasn't large in and of itself, there was a separate building across the street consisting entirely of modest classrooms where we had most of our Sunday classes (See "Sabbath Day Observance"). Whereas most chapels in Utah are a single building, this was an instance where the chapel was more like a collection of small buildings on a property.
And although Church membership was relatively low, mostly due to the scale of the city more than anything else, we heard an incredible tale. I forget the exact details but all the members spoke of a time when President Spencer W. Kimball (1895 - 1985), past prophet of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints visited years ago and prophesied that a temple would be built in Valle Hermoso. How that’s possible the way Valle Hermoso is right now is a hard thing to imagine but there have been other hard to imagine promises that came to pass.
In November of 1968, then Elder Thomas S. Monson of the twelve Apostles accompanied Stanley D. Rees who was then Mission President of the North German Mission; the Berlin wall had been erected only 7 years prior. At a meeting in Gorlitz, Elder Monson promised the Saints of eastern Germany they would have all the blessings other members of the Church enjoyed. Although outward events of the “cold war” in the German Democratic Republic did not seem to be altered immediately, subtle changes began taking place within the Church in that country—slowly at first but accelerating over the next twenty years. On 27 April 1975, President Monson dedicated the German Democratic Republic for the preaching of the gospel. In 1985, the Freiberg Temple was dedicated followed by the Frankfurt, West Germany Temple in 1987 (See "Temple Dedication"). In October 1988, missionaries from outside of the country were allowed to serve in Germany. In 1989, the Berlin Wall fell enabling the Saints of Eastern Germany to visit the temple. Miracles happen when there is faith in the Lord. They may not happen immediately, but blessings come in time to the faithful. Our Area of Jardín was nothing spectacular to the eye. Most of the socioeconomic activity was localized in the city center of Valle Hermoso. And on the extremities where we were: crops, fields, mud, and livestock mainly. Most of the houses were small and evidently living in poverty. Because of the low population density, we were one of the only Areas in the Mission allowed to use bikes. There were only a few problems: 1) You had to buy your own bike which required money I didn't want to spend for only 6 weeks of use, and 2) Bikes had a reputation for being stolen (even when locked up outside our apartment) and 3) I have an extreme aversion to bikes. Read the story of my pre-mission mountain biking experience here. The other Elders in our apartment rode bikes, but I refused to ride, opting for legwork and heat exhaustion for the few weeks I had left.
Valle Hermoso’s houses were spread out. Compared to the other cities in Tamaulipas, these could rightly be said to have grassy front yards and back yards. There were seemingly less gates and walls than in other cities, although they weren't absent. But taking into account how small the population was, the streets were about as quiet as a ghost town.
I was already physically darker than normal because I spent every day outdoors, and Bugambilias wasn't any shadier than anywhere else I lived, but this last Area did it in for me. That's when I turned what I believe to be the darkest shade my body was physically capable of turning. I dare say I was near unrecognizable. The sun always seemed to peak through trees and around corners just enough to constantly be beating down on me to some degree. Again, as I had the previous summer, I sweated mercilessly (See "Canícula"). My clothes got soaked through and I usually had to carry around a clean microfiber cloth to wipe the sweat out of my eyes to keep me from going blind with saline. I couldn’t just use my hand because my hands were just as damp from the humidity and dirty. When we didn’t have a cloth, we’d use the back of our tie because we were that desperate. After all, I'd only be wearing the ties for a few more weeks. I’d rather have a dirty tie I can get cleaned than have salty sweat blind me any day.
OUR HOUSE
We lived on the top floor of a two-story apartment building secluded behind an Oxxo and Pemex gas station. There were no 7-Elevens in Valle Hermoso, so there were no Slurpees like Bugambilias (See "One"), so I resorted to Powerade which gave you the most liquid for your buck. Considering how much I sweat, hydration was essential. On really special days, I’d buy an agua fresca (See "Food, Glorious Food -- Part 2"). The frothy cantaloupe ones were my favorite. The only problem was that it was down and gone within five minutes and you had to go all the way to the city center to get one, which was more often than not out of our path, and the walk was arguably not worth it.
Comparatively, our apartment was one of the nicer places, in my opinion. It housed six of us Elders but still felt large enough to feel comfortable. It was vibrant. Light beamed through the study room windows in the morning. The kitchen sent pleasurable aromas through the house every morning and the sizzle of frying pans made one envious of what the other was cooking up, usually eggs or spam so it smelled like sweet bacon. The front door to our apartment opened into our study room, of which each companionship shared the standard white folding table stacked with books and study material. We had two comfortable matching gray couches, which was a rare commodity let alone two commodities given to us by a Ward member who wanted to throw it out, and a kitchen island buried under every missionary material you could ever need or never need, from pamphlets to outdated pictures of the temple. Much of it was still wrapped in its flimsy plastic packaging and collecting dust. There was a surplus of everything, much of which nobody would usually use in a lesson. I even found an old Book of Mormon with Elder Adams’ name printed on it; a relic he'd left behind in the Mission Offices after he'd gone home about a year and a half earlier. (See "1st Area: Monterreal, Rio Bravo")
We shared one moderately small bathroom between the six of us like in Bugambilias but we made it work. Our bedroom was typically kept dark behind closed blinds to keep the heat out during the day. One window was patched up with tinfoil because a rock had been recently thrown through it (that’s all I know of that shady story). Our bedroom door slid open and shut like an accordion. Attached to the bedroom was a back door to a microscopic balcony that accessed the boiler but didn't do much else for us because it was too small to hang out on. Ultimately, what made this house so wonderful to me was the fact that this apartment had central air conditioning! That's something that I didn't have for the last 20+ months, surviving on fans, open windows, and the occasional clima (See "1st Area: Monterreal, Rio Bravo"). It took mere moments for our apartment to fill with refreshing cold air, and if that didn’t cut it, the large ceiling fans in each room certainly helped. This was by far the homiest home I'd lived in while in Mexico and it was my last. The next roof I'd be sleeping under would be my own, in my own bed, alone in my own room.
My last companion, companion number 19 in those 16 transfers, was Elder Torres. I'd met and briefly lived with Elder Torres at the start of his Mission back in Buena Vista about a year before (See "2nd Area: Buena Vista, Matamoros"). It felt poetic that we should be at either end of each other’s Mission. Bookends one to another. I at his birth, and he at my departure. Elder Torres was as jovial as ever. Truthfully, he seemed just the same as I had last left him about a year earlier. He was kind. He maintained his sense of innocence and unfeigned optimism.
In addition to my companion and myself in our apartment were our District Leaders, Elder Eskaran from Hawaii, and Elder Sandrigo (Sahn-dree-goh) from Argentina as well as our Zone Leaders, Elder Sanchez from California and Elder De La Rosa from Mexico. What a crowd! There was always such energy in our house and trust and playful camaraderie. Admittedly, it was something relieving to no longer be District Leader and to live with four great leaders in their prime to keep me company in my last days. They respected me as if I were still a District Leader due to my seniority, never as an underling. They would remind me daily how soon I’d be going home. To them, it was something to be celebrated, like a graduation that I'd worked hard to get to. In a sense, it was something to look forward to. But at the same time it made each passing week, day, and hour excruciatingly tedious, almost fragile even. It was like the exchange between Gandalf and Pippin in the 3rd Lord of the Rings movie and I was Pippin:
Pippin: It's so quiet.
Gandalf: It's the deep breath before the plunge.
Pippin: I don't want to be in a battle. But waiting on the edge of one I can't escape is even worse.
My soul longed to make each moment matter, and when things weren’t perfect, something inside me stirred with solemn sadness. Time was precious. Not something I wanted to waste. It wasn’t over until it was over and although Bugambilias was considerably successful and we'd broken records (See "Great Harvest"), I wanted to end with another bang! But although we may not have reaped a great harvest like my last Area in Bugambilias in Reynosa, I felt like I ended on a happy note with no regrets and among people I loved just the same. I was at peace with everything that I did up to then.
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