Worms

When I was a missionary, I was served a beautifully delicious plate of steamed cauliflower. Yum, Yum, give me some, until my companion pointed out the steamed worms attached to the stems. They were very hard to notice, tiny, and the same color as the cauliflower. Since I am a cruel person, I pulled rank and whispered, "Hermana, here's a little lesson on how not to offend our hostess."  I downed the rest of my steamed invertebrates and she reluctantly picked at them. Now, here's the perfect opportunity for a metaphor.

 As our time in Mexico most probably grows thin, I am making lists. Lists of things I love, things I'll miss the most, things I've learned, and I'm filled with the warm fuzzies. Mexico, you are a delectable, gourmet head of perfectly seasoned, steamed cauliflower.  I have tried, I promise I have tried so hard (most of the time) to eat through your worms. But lately those worms have resurrected and are writhing and as I'm about to push them down my throat, they look me in the face and say, "Fear me." And then they cackle and spit and bleed. Isn't that pleasant?  5 severed heads dropped outside of an elementary school in Acapulco. 35 bodies (and later, 11 more) dropped in the middle of traffic in Veracruz. 2 tortured, naked bodies hanging from an overpass in a border state, 52 people burned alive in a Monterrey casino. These are just some of the news stories from the past month. But what has been keeping me up at night--literally, is the shootout in our neighborhood restaurant a few weeks ago with 3 dead and a few more injured and then the 2 heads found 2 miles from our place on Monday. The heads had a lengthy note attached from a cartel. The message was clear: we have arrived in Mexico City. 

So Mexico, although I'd love to savor your tasty florets, those are some nasty worms crawling up your stem, and frankly, I’m not sure how much longer I can stomach them.

Caveat: I read over this and it seems overly negative. I don’t feel this way most of the time (yes, violence is horrible, but living in fear is not my path). It was a rough night. After a hot shower and a bowl of cereal, those worms can party on in my stomach.