You’re probably wondering by now what it feels like to be fluent in two languages.

So am I. If you know of someone, give me a jingle.

Frankly put, I am years away from being fluent in Spanish. I am what you might politely call “conversational” at best. What does this mean? I can get around in a Spanish speaking country with relative ease. When being spoken to directly, I understand between 70-90%. When watching TV or listening to Mexicans talk among themselves, 50-80%.

Of course these statistics fluctuate greatly between speakers, but that’s a rough estimate.

My spoken Spanish varies greatly on the topic. If we are talking generally (daily activities, pastimes, basic religious themes, etc.) I do fairly well. Conversation flow may not be “effortless” but it’s getting closer. My word choice and grammar wouldn’t be confused for a Mexican’s, but with little exception, what I am trying to express gets across.

It is still easy to get into deep water though. I would have problems explaining how to build a dog house. Beyond “dog,” “house,” and “build.” My vocabulary is seriously lacking. Hammer? Lumber? Tile? Screw gun? No clue. I have the same problem explaining the farm. Silo? Acre? Alfalfa? Combine? Go fish.

I know enough Spanish to be funny, but not quickfire joke funny. Usually by the time I’ve thought through everything and have come up with a witty comeback, the moment is past.

This kills me.

I am just reaching the point where I am starting to get puns, but not quite anything with double meaning. I am starting to use the conditional tenses correctly, which is tricky to conjugate (ex. I would have gone yesterday…) but really broadens what I can convey.

If I pay attention closely I can understand almost all of the sermons in church. This is actually easier than conversation, because the language is more formal and grammatically sound, which is the Spanish I’ve been taught in the classroom.

What is getting me right now is anything not perfectly literal. This includes cultural euphemisms like “Cat’s out of the bag” or “Its raining cats and dogs” which are different here than in English, but also more subtle things. Take “I caught the flu” for example. You don’t literally reach out and “catch” the flu, so how does that translate? English is littered with sayings like that (and of course “littered” wouldn’t directly translate either).

Outside of speaking all day, I study up to an hour each day in my grammar books to pick up on the technical aspects of the language: Prepositions, conjugations, pronouns, etc. I learn quite a bit from books that I can’t pick up on from listening and speaking. Partly because knowing “why” helps me learn faster, and partly because most people don’t bother correcting my continuous mistakes as long as they can understand what I’m trying to say.

I push myself hard, partly because I want to speak Spanish like a native speaker (a goal which I will continue to pursue in the US until I DO speak like a native speaker), and also because I am beginning to realize just how unmarketable I am in the job world and Spanish would reeeaally give me a boost.

From the limited contact I’ve had with the Spanish of other Latin American SALTers I would say my Spanish is in the bottom 20%. Disappointing? Yes, but not surprising. Kind of picked up that I was slow on languages in college. This doesn’t mean I can’t master Spanish, it just means it will take more time, the hope being that once I finally get it pounded in it will stick easier too.

Some days I have the butterfly feeling that “wow, I am really understanding all of this” and other days I have a sinking feeling of “have I learned anything in 9 months?”

I still have a long way to go. I’ve been informed that the SALTer before me picked up Spanish faster which is a less than enjoyable comparison. At the same time, one of my youth told me the other day that my Spanish is “so pure” which brings up an interesting dilemma. Would I rather learn to speak like an academic or the Spanish spoken by everyone else on the streets?

Maybe someday it will be both.

As I pass by the two-months-left mark, my calendar has become my best friend; helping me make sure I do all the things I need/want to do before I have to leave the country. Days already filled are carefully boxed by red sharpie. The next two weeks have seven days boxed in red, and five of those are band gigs.

One church concert, one high school graduation party, and in the next three nights, three concerts in the Zocalo, or city square. The invite to play in the Zocalo came from the organizers of a Christian festival that are having a three day event there. We play a praise music set the first two nights and our rock set on Thursday night.

It’s kind of a big deal. Playing in the Zocalo is a bit like playing on the capital steps in Washington DC. Not that rock bands usually do that, but you get the picture.

H2O doesn’t usually play praise music, but when Zocalo concert organizers say “jump” you say “how high?” In Mexican fashion, we had our only praise music rehearsal on Sunday. The band picked out 15 songs and Mario assured me I knew most of them.

I know four. As I write I am listening to a CD of these unknown songs on repeat, about all I can do before I take the stage to lead worship at the center of Mexico’s capital. Our God is a forgiving God right?

The band is also looking to hit the studio to record our second album. They want to do this before I leave. I am honored. It should be a fun experience. Not only are we sounding a lot better than the first album, but putting me on bass has allowed Mario to add keyboard to the mix, which is giving us a tighter and more epic Skillet type of feel, for those of you to whom that makes sense. I imagine this will be a bit different from my bluegrass and choral recording experiences. I’ve never played an instrument on an album before.

We have also received an offer to put one of our songs on a compilation album that would be sold in Walmart, Amazon, and Itunes to name a few. We’re still working out the details on that deal.

In other news, on my way home from the pastor’s house the other day I noticed that our neighbors were setting up a huge party, closing off the block, and setting up a massive audio and lights system.

I don’t really know these neighbors, but as a joke I asked if I was invited. In Mexican fashion the answer of course was yes. It was their daughter’s 15th birthday party, a coming of age birthday in Latin America, and probably the second biggest day of her life next to her wedding.

Having never been to one of these famously extravagant “Quinceañeras” I decided I would at least show up in the evening to see what it was all about. I could hear the thumping music from the DJ as if it were outside my bedroom door (until around 4:00 AM).

Around midnight I made the half a block walk to the party, just to stand in the back and take in the sights. I had only been there about twenty seconds when I noticed man about my age staring at me.

Now, I’m used to being stared at, but this was not a curiosity stare, this was one of pure hatred. I’ve never been looked at like that in my life and it made me very uncomfortable. He was obviously very drugged out and after a bit I decided it was perhaps best if I left.

As I walked away, he got up and followed me, never dropping his stare. Reaching into his hoodie pocket he showed me the outline of the pistol he had on him and picked up the pace.

I changed my pace to a brisk walk, just hoping to make it back to my house before he decided to use the pistol. I reached my door (which was thankfully open) a few paces before he did and went inside, slamming the door behind me.

I didn’t go back outside again and Mario bolted the door before we went to bed. It took me a while to fall asleep. What if my door had been locked? What if I lived another three blocks away? Would someone crazy enough to chase me to my door with a gun for no reason be crazy enough to come back the next night?

Well, he hasn’t come back, and I don’t think he will, but I’m very cautious when coming and going from my house after dark. I’m startled easily by people that knock on our door late at night, and I’ve never been so glad that in two months I have the blessing of returning to a home where I can feel safe leaving my own house at any hour.

The public transportation system here fascinates me. I take between 2-6 combis a day to get around and during these rides I often find myself drifting off into this fantasy where I publish a coffee table book, explaining Mexican combis to the world. Due to current financial situation and trouble finding a good illustrator, this might be as close as I get. I hope you find it as interesting as I do:

1. All you need to drive a combi is a driver’s license and a combi number sticker. Drivers pay for all the expenses and keep all the income. The state really has no idea who and how many people are driving combi.

2. That said, there is a formed hierarchy and set of rules on a local level that is impressively organized. Combi drivers know who they need to pay, where they need to wait in line, etc.

3. Combis make up most of the traffic since most people in my part of the city don’t drive. Its not uncommon to see 10-15 combis in a row.

4. Since the combi 10 feet in front of you that is on the exact same route will obviously steal most of your passengers, combis are constantly passing each other with a ferocious intensity to battle for position and passengers.

5. Every combi driver has a buddy in the passenger seat, whose job is to lean out the window and ask anyone on the sidewalk if they need a ride. If the combi driver doesn’t have their buddy, the front seat stays empty. Nobody sits in the front except for friends of the driver.

6. There is no written map of the combi routes. It’s a system you need to be born into.

7. Never forget anything on a combi. There is no number to call, and since in a whole year I have been on very few combis more than once, you can basically kiss goodbye anything you forget on a combi.

8. There are hundreds of “routes” in the city, with hundreds of combis driving each one. However, different combis will take different shortcuts based on traffic or personal preference, so it is crucial that you are paying attention, because even though the official “route” may go by your house, it doesn’t mean the combi will.

9. It is considered very rude to try and pay with anything over a 50 peso bill ($5.00). Many times they don’t even have that kind of change.

10. If this happens, it is not uncommon for a combi to stop and do a Chinese fire drill to the combi behind him to make change in the middle of traffic.

11. The combi system is a fairly tight family. Combi drivers often joke with each other out the windows of their vehicles when they pass, and occasionally will plug up traffic in both directions to chat.

12. I have never seen a woman driving a combi

13. Combis fill up in a very specific order. Back two corner first, followed by front two corners (inferior since you are facing the opposite direction) and then the sides and the middles.

14. A 15 passenger combi will not leave the metro station until it has 20 people.

15. If you are sitting along the side, it is actually preferable to be shoulder to shoulder so as to keep from falling out of your seat every time the driver slams on the gas. When a seat on either end opens up, there is a race to fill it.

16. You do not make small talk on a combi. That said, it is alright to say good morning or good afternoon, to which everyone responds in unison.

17. Combi drivers pimp out their vehicles with blacklights, subwoofers, spinning rims, strobe-headlights, and any other knickknacks they have on hand. You are also stuck with the music selection of the driver.

18. If you are sitting closest to the driver it is your responsibility to pass him the money from other passengers. If you are sitting next to the door it is your responsibility to open and close it.

19. If your combi has a fender-bender, everyone jumps off and gets in the combi behind him. Paying the first combi is not necessary. This has happened to me twice.

20. Some combis put up a black curtain of privacy that closes off drivers from passengers. To pay you must poke your hand through the curtain and wait for the unknown mysterious hand to take it. This curtain is very aggravating if you’re not exactly sure where you are.

21. A combi will make his route on average 15 times a day.

22. Despite the fact that a combi driver drives in circles all day with no destination, they are all very impatient and generous on the horn. I have no idea why.

23. I am very self conscious answering my cell phone on a combi. It either puts my shaky Spanish in the spotlight or gives all the kids the chance to laugh at my funny sounding English.

24. If the driver thinks he can squeeze in one more passenger, you have to choose where to squeeze your little buns in, because nobody’s makin room.

25. If the driver thinks he can squeeze in one more passengers and the passengers disagree, they will unite and kick the passenger right back out the door.

On numerous occasions I have described the city life as “cold and impersonal.” In listing the things I dislike about city living (pollution, noise, lack of personal space etc.) it all seems to make sense, but I’ve thought more this year about what it means that a city and its people are “cold and impersonal.”

I have spent my life hopping from intimate community to intimate community, from hometown, church, high school, college, etc. In these communities everybody knows each other. The atmosphere is warm and inviting.

When I pass John, Sarah or Ed on the sidewalk or in the grocery store, warm smiles and pleasantries are exchanged. John and both keep track of the same sports team. Sarah and I went to school together and attend the same church. I don’t know Ed very well but I’ve heard of the good work he does at the clinic and I know his younger brother, who is a great guy.

I see them as warm and personable because small environments allow you to know people better and because when they see me, they also acknowledge me and the value that I contribute to the community.

City life isn’t like that. All energy is focused inward on your own schedule and issues, and everyone else is blocked out. You don’t smile, you don’t say hi, and you mind your own business. To be fair, it’s impossible to wave, smile, and say hi to everyone you meet. You would look ridiculous. So in a sense it is necessary to retreat inside yourself to avoid sensory overload.

So I guess when I say that city people are “cold” I simply mean that without the chance to get to know each other, we share nothing that brings us together. I may be shoulder to shoulder on a crowded metro, but yet I’m so very alone. Lost in a sea of faces, to quote a Kutless song.

The bored looking youth in the Misfits hoodie and oversized headphones leaning against the metro doors on my right is a world away, but given a chance to know him at Bethel College, we might regularly eat lunch together.

The middle aged women to my left talking on her cell phone while balancing an active three year old on her lap completely ignores me, but if she went Freeman Academy basketball games back home, we might be chatting up a storm right now.

In short, people in the city are no different than the people back home, its just that we are all swallowed up by this mammoth city and are deprived of the chance to connect.

I have learned that city people cope with this “coldness” by forming small communities within the larger city. Whether its church groups, neighborhoods, or combi drivers, people find community.

I personally have noticed how much friendlier my neighborhood seems now that I have been here almost a year. Some of my drunk neighbors down the street will call me over to discuss English lessons that will never materialize. I exchange friendly waves with the hamburger vender on the corner in the evenings. On the other corner I talk sports with the guy who runs the fried banana stand. The cute girl who does my laundry at the Laundromat not only knows my name now, she also recently figured out how to spell it.

I still think cities are cold and impersonal, but I am learning to blame that on the way that cities operate and not on the people that live in them. I find myself humbled yet again by the realization that behind my first impressions and judgments lie 25 million amazing God-made people that aren’t too different from me, if I can only take the time and the patience to look beyond the surface.

As you might have heard in the news, the U.S. has issued a state of emergency over a new strain of the flu called “swine flu,” a virus that causes respiratory illness in pigs and only recently has begun to infect humans.

At the center of what is now a national medical nightmare is Mexico City, the epicenter of it all.

I’m writing this blog in the form of journal entries, to give a better idea of what its like to live in a city that overnight turned into the last place on earth most people want to be.

THURSDAY, APRIL 23

Mario asked to borrow my computer tonight to check his email. Supposedly school is called off tomorrow citywide. This would surprise me in the States, but schools here call off school here all the time, for seemingly no reason at all.

FRIDAY, APRIL 24

I went to Elias’ house today for breakfast like I do every Friday. The first thing they asked me was if I “had heard the news.” Apparently school has been called off for the whole week. It sounded a bit extreme for the flu.

At least it did until we gathered in the evening at the pastor’s house to leave on our RECH service trip to Vera Cruz. As we slowly trickled in, playing games and watching the news, it became apparent that things were more serious than we first imagined.

What is simply being called “Influenza” here has so far infected around 1000 people, 20 of whom have died. The virus is something completely new, and though it contains the same symptoms of the flu (achiness, sore throat, cough etc.), the human body has virtually no means of protection against it. Without treatment, the body takes on severe pneumonia-like symptoms and can kill within three days.

Of the four available flu vaccines, swine flu is immune to two of them. The other two appear to work fairly well if used early. However, there is not enough of those vaccines in production to treat all of Mexico City, and creating a new “swine flu specific” vaccine could take months.

As we all gathered in the evening to hear what would happen with our service trip, we were told it would be postponed a few weeks. Apparently sharing our faith right now means not sharing our newfound disease. I think that’s a wise decision.

SATURDAY, APRIL 25

Since we were all together for our service trip last night, the boys all came to my house and we played Risk and watched YouTube videos until 4:00 AM, a good distraction from the heavy news.

When I woke up at 11:30 the death toll had risen to almost 60. By evening over 3,000 are infected. Museums and other tourist attractions had been shut down. Over 500 public events had been canceled. Usually packed soccer games had been shut down so that teams played in eerily empty stadiums. Night clubs and theatres were ordered closed. I was fairly content to stay in my room all day.

At midafternoon I got a call from one of my youth asking me if I wanted to play soccer.

Are you kidding me? Of course I did, but I also want to live long enough to see my friends and family again. I’m not sure what a Mexican born medical mystery can do to an American immune system, but I don’t want to find out.

Then midafternoon Mario asked me if I wanted to go to the pastor’s house with him.

This is a tough dilemma. My job is to spend as much time as possible with the youth here. Which ironically is exactly what the government is telling us not to do right now.

But I went with him and with Alba and Cha Chas we bought ice cream and then spent some time strolling in one of the nearby church parks.

I am starting to realize how impossible it is for me to isolate myself from this virus. I spend almost every day at the pastor’s house. The pastor’s wife works downtown and takes the metro. Though the police have handed out over 6 million masks, I have to face the fact that the odds of me catching this are as likely as anyone.

In the evening we watched the news together. All schools shut down until May 7. All public gatherings to be avoided.

The fear is real. We’re against an enemy we can’t see. It does not discriminate, it has no mercy, and in a packed city of 25 million, it can’t be stopped.

I’ve never lived this close to the reality of death before. I’ve never felt so helpless.

I constantly remind myself that less than 1% of the population has swine flu and of those, less than 1% have died.

The government says that most of the deaths were advanced cases that were not treated early. All the same, this strain is unique in that it does not target babies and the elderly. It targets healthy middle aged people.

SUNDAY APRIL 26

The decision was made to have church today. Seems like a big risk to me, but I don’t make the calls. Maybe we need church more now than ever, to focus, clear our heads, and push aside the rising panic. Even in the middle of all of this we are never alone.

Death toll is past 80 today. Nobody leaves the house without a mask. It’s a grave and eerie feeling to see everyone walking around in surgeons masks. Our service today looked more like a Jackson family reunion.

I feel I haven’t taken a full breath in days. It’s a very stressful and suffocating feeling. I wore my mask 80% of the day. It only comes off when I eat and when I’m alone in my room.

Epidemics breed suspicion. Eyes shift from one person to the next. Maybe THEY have the flu. Any sneeze or cough is met with icy stares.

Along with fear here there is a rising frustration with the Mexican government, which apparently has buried the issue since the first cases emerged in March. The late reaction has put containment out of the question.

There is also a sense of panic regarding the economic situation. Not only do many jobs come to a standstill, the black mark this puts on Mexico also puts many jobs at risk in the tourism industry. In a city already hit hard by the economic situation, people are wondering when things are going to hit bottom and start getting better again.

I was told today to assure everyone back home that I was fine and that life goes on as usual here, which is true. And while it is encouraging to see the bustle of city life continues, it also shows the hopelessness of containment.

MCC is also monitoring the situation closely. Though the risk are high I want everyone to know that I’m not in any imminent danger and that MCC will take good care of me. Keep us in your thoughts and prayers as this medical drama continues to unfold.

MONDAY APRIL 27
Mario woke me up for breakfast this morning to tell me we were going to go eat in the market.

Seriously? Would you ask for everyone there to touch my face too just in case I DON’T get infected?

Sometimes I get frustrated with Mario. Mario seems to go wherever he wants, refuses to wear a mask, and of course is around me most of the day. I wonder why I even bother with a mask.

In all honesty, as hot and confining as it is, I think it gives me a bit of comfort to have some semblance of control instead of just waiting for this bug to pick us off one at a time.

Death toll in Mexico rose to 150 today. All schools in the country have now been shut down for the week. A member of our congregation canceled a flight to Central America because he was told he likely wouldn’t be let in the country.

It seems like countries everywhere are putting up their walls, and for good reason. Swine Flu popped up in more countries today and skyrocketed to almost 50 cases in the US.

Most countries, including the US, are discouraging all but necessary travel to Mexico. The WHO (World Health Organization, not to be confused with the rock band who have absolutely no say in the matter) raised the threat level from phase three to phase four, meaning there is sustained human-to-human transmission of the virus causing outbreaks in at least one country.

That seems to be fairly obvious, but the WHO is being very cautious, due to the drastic economic impact of raising the risk levels. If the risk level reaches phase 6, which would imply a pandemic, borders, trade, and travel would virtually come to a halt. There is no saying how much havoc that would wreak on the world’s already fragile economy.

It would also make things interesting for me.

As of right now, MCC is keeping a careful watch on the situation, waiting for more information so as to make an informed decision (which is exactly what I would be doing if I was in charge.)

However, if the threat is raised to phase six, this would likely imply that all travel in and out of Mexico would be sealed off until either A. everything is under control or B. the city dies off.

That’s an awfully gloomy outlook for a disease that only kills 1% of those infected, but then again, the 1918 epidemic had a mortality rate of 2.5% and that killed over 40 million people.

Its not fair to compare the medical preparation of 1918 with 2008, but these thoughts do slip through my head as I spend most of my day isolated, pondering whether that last cough was on account of breadcrumbs from my toast or the beginning of the flu.

Though in honesty, I am doing fine. I take courage from my community around me that continue to go about their lives with their heads up, with the knowledge that with Christ for us, who can be against us? It might not be a blanket of immunity, but more importantly our faith gives us the peace and the strength to face whatever comes our way. Even the flu.

TUESDAY APRIL 28

I woke up this morning with a sore throat. It was the gentle kind, the kind that goes away with your morning glass of mango juice, but I can still feel it tickle the back of my throat.

I spent the day doing everything in my power to knock it back to wherever it came from, not hard to do considering Tuesday is my day off.

Am I getting swine flu? Probably not. But that’s the tricky part isn’t it? What if I was? That is a lot of the problem here in the city now. Hospitals and clinics are swamped with people that have flulike symptoms and only about 2% of them end up getting diagnosed with swine flu.

Being upgraded to a level four alert has meant closing all gyms, pool halls, bars, and restaurants (except for takeout). A level five would completely shut down public transport and a level six I’m told would confine us to our houses.

Some people are stocking up on food in case this happens. But aside of food, people are worried about their jobs. The majority of people live day to day here. Those that do have bank accounts rarely take more than $50-60 out at a time. Shutting down the city would absolutely devastate such a system.

Hopefully this won’t happen. After all, the WHO have declared such measures as practically useless at this point, encouraging more effort put towards quick response medicating.

This didn’t stop Cuba and Argentina from being the first countries to close their borders to Mexico.

News that a swine flu specific vaccine will take months comes at the same time as flu numbers spike in the US and around the world. It’s unsure what will come next.

Our church, which has been divided into smaller community groups to lessen the risk of contamination, met tonight to pray. The gathering of our colonia met in my room and consisted of all youth. We prayed for the ill, for the politicians, for the doctors, and most of all, peace of mind for the rest of us. And then we did what needs to be done when the world seems to be falling apart around you. We made a pecan pie. And it was delicious.

This evening came the first good news we’ve heard in a while. With only seven more deaths today, things seem to be stabilizing here. Thanks be to God.

THURSDAY APRIL 30

I left the house today for the first time in two days. This wasn’t on account of paranoia, but rather the fact that I’ve been nursing this slightly sore throat. I went to the pastor’s house to eat today, partly because he called me to say I should and also because I am going crazy being so contained.

So I rode the combi system for the first time since the flu started. Two packed combis, one there and one back. 30-40% wore masks. I was also surprised to get an invite to eat at the directors house tomorrow. That will involve taking the combi, metro and the bus.

All that as the WHO raises the alert to a level 5. What does that mean here? It means that this next week (starting tomorrow) all essential business will shut down. Public transport will remain open as well as supermarkets, gas stations, etc. but the idea is to essentially shut down the city for a week.

This is a desperate attempt to choke the life out of this flu. Already Mexico City’s economy is said to be losing 57 million dollars every day. That number will only climb higher.

But even as the virus continues to spread across the world there is hope on the horizon. Mexico’s health chief is optimistic, noting that a virus like this should technically grow exponentially. The fact that the deaths have leveled off over the last few days is perhaps hope that the bug is losing strength.

We can only hope

SUNDAY MAY 3
After several days of holding our breath while the swine flu did relatively little, life here seems to be getting back to normal. At least in my neck of the woods.

Technically the whole city is on shutdown until Wednesday, and when I went downtown to have lunch with the directors, I found things to be quite different. The metro, usually packed was virtually empty and eerily quiet. Some of the vendors communicated solely through hand gestures, I assume under the assumption that if you don’t open your mouth, the virus doesn’t get in. If only it was that simple.

Stores in the center were also shut down, as well as some city parks. Why is it not like that where I’m at? I think its because people can’t afford to take such precautions. Many people work day to day so that can eat. If you fancy eating, then you set up shop, regardless of the risks.

While the virus worldwide seems to be escalating, surprisingly it is doing almost the opposite here. For a few days nobody died, hospital cases went down, people stopped wearing their masks. Even government officials are hopeful that the worst is over.

The WHO of course is wary. Nobody can be sure how the virus will mutate. The flu is tricky that way. It’s the reason you can’t get a once in a lifetime vaccine like the chicken pox. The flu is always evolving, testing the limits of the latest drugs.

The latest report is that while only 4 of over two hundred family members of the flu have gotten sick, thus proving that it does not spread as rapidly as originally thought. However, in the past 24 hours 11 more people have died. Apparently we don’t quite have everything figured out yet.

I however, have hope that this bug is running its course, so that I can go back to complaining about more interesting things, like the fact that the neighbor’s parrot has learned how to whistle and nobody knows how to shut it up. Stay tuned for further updates.

KEEP POSTED, AS I WILL CONTINUE TO UPDATE THIS POST