My second post is the second day I'm in Mexico, at 7:29 AM in the morning.
Wow, that first line is pretty accurate to my state at the moment. I'm exhausted, thrilled, and at the same time, incredibly hyper.
The drive across the U.S. Border was rife with wonderful scenery, breathtaking housing, and bright colours. I've never seen anything like it in all my life. Mountaintops rolled and tumbled, breaking through the cloud-line in a burst of mist, dotted by withering trees and caressed by the ocean backdrop. People walked along the sides of the roads, with packs slung over shoulders, serious expressions etched into their brows. Colourful housing and erratic building projects dotted the skyline, sometimes obstructing our view, sometimes not. After an hour of driving, the most miraculous of all structures:
A towering, full colour statue of Jesus.
As I stared out the window, all I could think was; This is not your world.
"You ain't in Kansas anymore," I mumbled, in a really bad Avatar-colonel impersonation.
"What?" Jack said, driving the car.
"Nothing." I muttered, continuing to scan the countryline.
After a drive that took a lot out of all four of us - especially the impromptu sing-a-longs to the radio - we arrived, in a convoy of no less than five vehicles, to the place we'd be staying at for the next seven days.
Have you ever pictured the way something will look like? You know, like a fancy hotel room or your wedding dress or even the way a certain shirt will flatter you/make you horribly ugly? Well, I've been doing that about this place for the past three months, and let me tell you, it blew my mind when I finally saw it in it's full glory.
I've dubbed it the Ensenada Mission's Hotel. On the top floor there are bunk beds, housing all the men and women of this trip. I'm on the top bunk, along with about 20 New Jersey'rs, who will be my mission-mates for the next seven days. It's a large wooden building, with many benches and dining tables lining the bottom floor and facilities and sleeping arrangements on the top. Balconies wrap around the top floor, where many of the people we'll come to know and love stand, leaning against the rails, basking in the glory of finally being in Mexico.
After a raucous dinner and several introductory conversations which were steered to each parties liking, I turned to Jack, leaning against the balcony, grinning like a mad man.
"Jack," I said, "I'm in Mexico!"
He laughed, and clapped a hand on my back. "You sure are, Brandon," He grinned back, the excitement and awe in his voice mirroring mine, "you sure are."
-Chicago Ted
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