Leaving Carbo
I awoke in the dark of my room at the Rodiguez home. I could hear noises from the kitchen, people murmuring things in Spanish, and the sizzling of something on a pan. I crawled out of the tangle of blankets and my red sleeping bag and groggily flipped the light switch on. Then I proceeded to dig through my huge black duffel bag for a pair of clean pants and a shirt to wear on our visit to border patrol when we crossed back into Arizona. Andy warned us that a previous group had smelled so bad that border patrol requested that the next year they come cleaner. As I pulled on a pair of jeans I realized that I had stayed in these people’s home for only 3 nights and already I felt like I was a part of their family. We joked together, talked about philosophies of life together, politics and the value of good hard work, all in my very broken Spanish and their very broken English. But somehow we were able to understand each other perfectly (Well, almost). I was sad, I could potentially never see any member of this family, my new family, ever again. When I entered the small kitchen the aroma of freshly cooked machaca (dried meat), beans, potatoes and corn tortillas invaded my nostrils. I sat down alongside my host mother’s grandmother smiling and greeting them “good morning”.
My host mother serves me first as she always does, and I wait. Over these 3 days I have learned that my family is fairly religious and prays every breakfast, so I wait until they are all served. Then we bend our heads, and my host father says something very solemnly. I hear my name once or twice. He is thanking god for me and asking for safety on my journey. Then we eat, and eat and eat. My host mother is an excellent cook and delights when she is able to feed me more.
As we sit eating, my host sister Anna leaves with a purple maker. A few minutes later she returns carrying a picture I had seen hanging in their living room. It is a framed picture depicting the Deer Dance which is the native people of Sonora, the Yaqui’s, request for more deer. It is a picture with deep sentimental value and they were handing it to me. She had written on the back: “to remember your visit to Carbó” and the date. At the time I hadn’t realized they were actually giving it to me until when we were all gathered in the center of town saying goodbye to our families and they again handed it to me. Then it really hit me, how much I meant to them, and how I had really become a part of their family. With reverence I took this meaningful gift in my hands saying “Gracias. Muchas gracias”. I felt as though I couldn’t put into words how grateful I was, for the gift but more for the way they had let me into their home and made me a part of their life for a few days.
All the families stood in a circle, Compass kids with their host families, some crying. It is amazing to think back a few days when we were paired off with these total strangers. The looks that I saw then are so different than what I see now. On the first day people were nervous, even terrified. And today people are sad, but also completely comfortable with their families, and being minorities in this group of Mexicans. We learned what it feels like to be truly uncomfortable and what it feels like to be the minority. We go around the circle saying things that we feel the need to say. I say nothing. I have told my family everything that I need too. Thanking them profusely for letting me in their home, showing me kindness that I hadn’t seen before from a complete stranger, and letting this experience happen. An experience that I think is key to life, a experience that is so very valuable.
After the circle there are hugs and some tears. As we all pile into the vans we scream adios, goodbye, gracias, thank you! Sitting in the van, I watch our host families disappear as we drive away, our journey is more than half over but I feel like I have been here for months and I feel like I have a new family. I think that as we drove off leaving Carbo, driving on that narrow Sonoran highway we were all thinking the same thing. We were amazed at the power of people to do good, and the humanity of all people, and also surprised in ourselves at what we had just accomplished. For at least five minutes we were very quiet until someone passed gas and then the rest of the trip was a ruckus. But I know for those five minutes of thought we were all dazed, and amazed.
Now we were on the road for Arizona. We were heading home to the United States.
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