You may think we're crazy to spend our summer in Chiapas, but we think you're crazy not to!

It has been 7 days since the last visit to San Cris, and oh, what a long week it has been. Actually, it feels more like a conquest. The largest community that will be receiving stoves, Puebla Colonial is basically done! 24 meticulous particulate matter measurements later, 21 trials of spirometry- (some quick, but some painfully long tries) have put us over our largest hurdle on this trip so far. But in Chiapas, there will probably be more challenges to come.

There have been a handful of times in the past couple of weeks in which I thought to myself ¨Why didn't I stay in Newport Beach, where I have the luxury of eating whatever I please and have the ability to walk to the beach on a whim?¨ Generally these wistful thoughts happen when the rain is pouring down hard and we are walking up a steep, slippery hill of mud, or bouncing around in the back of a Nissan, bones colliding with the side of the truck bed. Or when I got a bug bite on my forearm, which became sausagelike and swollen x2 from wrist to elbow. But now that it has been over two weeks, these strange and sometimes uncomfortable scenarios have become a part of everyday life. Quexalhukum has become our home, the botoquin is now our bedroom, and Fernando's family is ours as well. We are not necessarily ¨assimilated" by any ethnographist's standards, but we have gotten to know some people well enough to appreciate what life is like as a Tzotzil in Chiapas, Mexico.

Like CB just posted, our experiences here have revealed the starking contrasts between the Tzotzil and US culture. That is, the universal cross-cultural comparison commonly made between the familial and social oriented people (greater good for all) vs the individualist (me, me, me, bigger is better, thus I want the biggest one). This is evinced by the tightly woven social network within the community and throughout Chenalho, which stems from the common history of the indigenous people and even moreso from their fundamental outlook on social justice. This social order falls under the name of "Las Abejas", a network of communities that stand in nonviolent solidarity in the pursuit of social justice for the indigenous people. In my eyes, this organization has redefined the limits that poverty imposes on people. Don´t get me wrong. There are still a large disparity with regards to resources, income, and basic rights. However, each day I am continually impressed with the strides that these communities have taken, especially with the health promoter model. Within Las Abjeas, there are health promoters, volunteered and/or elected by their respective communities. They are highly trained, and tend to the physical, emotional, and mental wellbeing of their communities. They are on call when they are at home, and unpaid. In the US, doctors would call them crazy! In their communities, they are the highly trained individuals that do more than just provide a solution to a symptom, they do it sustainably and in a personalized manner. The health promoter is your doctor/nurse/PA/med assistant/neighbor and friend rolled into one, essentially. In Q, where most of the people share some familial blood, the health promoter could be your uncle, or your cousin also.

Where am I getting with this? You wouldn't think that people living in poverty, with homes made from wooden planks, with chickens running amuck in the home, and most of the population lacking access to education past the 5th grade, would have formed this sophisticated form of social structure and health organization. Health promoters make major decisions together "platicando" (via discussion). They push for improvement of their communities, striking a balance between the vertical and horizontal structures of donation and service. i.e. they will work with outsiders like us, who want to donate stoves in a manner that allows them to take ownership of the project. However, they will not accept welfare or donations from the a government that has oppressed them for years.

As a whole, I have found that my experience here has shifted many paradigms I've had in the past, about people, race, culture... If I walk down the streets of LA, and I see Mexicans working on a construction project, I may think of people like Antonio, one of the health promoters in Q that has to leave for months at a time to find work that will pay for his wife, Maura's needs back in Q. I may think of the amazing work that Fernando, leader of the health promoters, basically THE MAN in Las Abejas that has helped the communities take immense strides with regards to progress and health. As a small man in stature, wearing the typical button down shirt, belt with large buckle, and a large cowboy hat, one would never guess that he is a large contributor to the health of Chenalho, an essential player in the struggle against the odds of poverty. Some may think that we are nuts to spend our last summer running around in rubber boots, lacking regular access to showers and toilets. I'd say that people are crazy to not experience what we get to see everyday. Having a million dollar view of gorgeous green valleys and mountains ain't half bad either.

Cross your fingers for us while we try and manhandle stoves at the Guatemalan/Mexican border.