The power of lasagna
03 November 2018
Annette
It took us two weeks in the Chiapas Marina, Tapachula Mexico to get Rum Doxy ready to venture back out into the open blue water. And as always, after extended stays in boat yards and marinas, once on the water sailing off shore is like being “born again” ! The concept of time becomes less prevalent and living in the “now” easier to practice. My constant challenge is to not fret about things I regret doing in the past or worry about potential problems that may or may not happen in the future. As I gaze out over the infinite blue water it's actually achievable for me to quiet my mind for longer periods of time. In these moments I have no problems. I am moved with gratitude for my life and the privileges I've been born into. Inevitably my mind drifts to those who are less fortunate and are suffering.
We happened to be in Tapachula just as the the Honduran refugee caravan were crossing the boarder from Guatemala into Mexico less than 10 miles away from the marina. We heard on the news what was going on and saw scenes of what was happening just a stones throw away but would not have known but for the media. How could we help? What could we do? A dark cloud hung over me all day as I felt for them yet was unable to help. That evening a fellow cruiser friend Roberto dropped by to bring us some locally made coffee. It was right around dinner time and I had just made two pans of lasagna, one for dinner that evening and another to put in the freezer for overnight passages when cooking could be more difficult. We invited him to join us and after a slight hesitation out of politeness he agreed. After empathizing about the “boatyard blues” and sharing sea stories we got on the conversation about the Immigrant migration. As it turned out Roberto is renting a room in the nearby fishing village of Puerto Madero. His neighbors in the hotel are immigrant families, many of which have 7 or more people sharing a tiny one bed room similar to the one he had to him self. They were men, women and lots of children waiting to get visas and immigrant status in order to continue their journey to the US. That process is difficult and costly. Roberto is living with Honduran immigrates, seeing their plight and hearing their stories which are desperate but hopeful. After an enjoyable evening of dining and visiting Roberto had to catch a taxi back to Puerto Madera before they stopped running. I put the second pan of lasagna in a large tupperware and sent it home with Roberto to give to family who might need it more than we do.
The next morning, as we were walking past the boat yard, we ran into Roberto. He told us how, as he was walking back to his hotel the night before, he approached a woman standing on the street and asked her if she had eaten that day. “No” she replied, “neither my family or I have eaten today”. Roberto handed her the tupperware of lasagna and she thanked him with tears in her eyes.
No one would choose to leave their homes, their families, their culture, or send their children away with relatives or strangers to walk thousands of miles to an unknown, unwelcoming place, with nothing but a daypack and the cloths on their backs unless it were the last resort. All these people have is hope and that is what we can give them with a meal and a few peso's. I admire their capacity for hope and courage in undertaking such a difficult and uncertain journey.
As I write this we are offshore, en route to Costa Rica. While I think these thoughts looking around at my surroundings I am brought back to the present moment by a giant manta ray, soaring out of the water and landing with a big splash. I have no problems at this moment.