Why are the children of La Manga happy?
Just south of La Manga (“the sleeve”) are the tony houses and beachside resort of Paradise in San Carlos, Mexico, Club Med’s latest vacation spots. Hardly alike are the remnants and improvised houses, trailers and tents for events that make up the homes of 53 families of Mexican Citizens who live simply next to their fishing boats, surrounded by the sound of children playing and very welcoming and humble people.
Business is not accepted here, the natural and sometimes treacherous trade of men, “fishermen” who regularly go to sea, admits dangerous conditions and primitive supplies. Our friend, Michael Hager, the man responsible for bringing us to this community, ended up making it his home for six years, he says, he didn’t see a single boat or life jacket.
The woman who makes jewelry and ornaments with remains and shells found in the sea. The sale of soft drinks to those tourists and visitors who arrive at the Villa through an unpaved road add another small income stipend.
Hager shares with us a portrait of life’s dependence on the ocean and its bounty, and the unpredictable sacrifices that are sometimes endured. Just a year and a half earlier, four of the Villages fishermen set out in their little fiberglass boats hoping to recapture their catch of the day. In the middle of a heavy storm, their boat capsized, two decided to hold on, clinging to their drifting boat. The other two decided to try to swim to shore many miles away. The two that remained, drowned, the other two by fate, reached land, their skin blistered and devastated by the sun and the elements, but alive, a day and a half later.
As Americans, secured in the freedom and many comforts of modern life, these events were almost shocking, and yet they were part of the balance here of the life of the people and the culture of Mexico.
Still, the beauty and serenity of the town and the surrounding mountainous landscape were paradoxically comforting.
It was the innocence and play of the Children, oblivious to the complexity and appetites of the Children of the developed West, coming from well-to-do families, that really conveyed the beauty and love of these people.
Shy, then eager, they responded, gleefully abandoning their interests, to have their pictures taken, then marveling and exclaiming with laughter as we played back their images on our video cameras. Easily the children hugged me and spoke in their native language and bright eyes and guided me to their special areas of play and adventure. They too were proud and interested in sharing with me the joys they were looking for in taking their younger brother or sister and presenting them to us, the new strangers with the new gifts like toys.
One of my colleagues, Fred Venegas, a juvenile probation officer from Santa Cruz, California, candidly commented, “These kids don’t know, their poor thing.” Evidently they were easily disconcerted by sticks and things found on the ground and on the shore. His expressions of happiness weren’t just off the cuff, they were effortlessly genuine, if unsophisticated. I myself fell quite naturally into his world of discovery and expression. It reminded me of my childhood joy of having friends to play with. I quickly became one with them, the spontaneity of him… I even forgot myself and the time for some decree. Life had already courted me in the Fishing Village of La Manga.
The community extended beyond the boundaries of the biological family. There was no easy measure to determine, where one’s siblings could be attributed to one father and mother and another began. Yes, the community itself spread easily, there was an absence of fear, more openness, a sense of trust and comfort….the children clearly benefited psychologically from such an environment and so did we.
It became an easy contrast when I reflected on how today’s modern youth are raised and assimilated into the culture, back in the United States. Here, wasn’t there a preponderance of video games and the overstimulation of television and the breakneck pace of music? that at the same time attacks and presents itself to pacify our children and young people.
A friend of mine, a woman who came to the United States years ago from the Ukraine, told me how “mechanized” many felt emanating from the United States, especially in the cities. An absence of normal human activities, simple pleasures, pure conversation was evident. People could hardly stop, constant movement and measurement, not a natural rhythm. That people seemed far from themselves. How even here (in the United States) we see people freaking out far more disproportionately than in cultures where there were no obsessions with making money and ambition.
Surely the United States is a great culture unto itself and its education and technology are advanced, but I couldn’t help but reflect on how the “relationships” of people, the sharing of one’s heart, and greater generosity and selflessness radiated here, even if it was underdeveloped.
Still, there was evidence of more tragedy and recovery in the La Manga stories, retold by Michael Hager, who portrayed for us people’s resilience and capacity for forgiveness and change.
Michael shared how a large man and a well-known member of the community had driven off at high speeds with his wife and young daughter and ended with tragic results.
Drunk and erratic, the man crashed his vehicle into a disabled car on the side of the road. Horrifyingly, the passenger in the parked vehicle died. The man’s wife suffered a broken back and would be permanently disabled and the young child would need surgery and a plate placed on her skull. Perhaps unimaginable in our culture, the man chooses to flee the scene of the accident, leaving behind his injured wife and son, along with the dead person.
Months passed until by Mexican Law, the man resurfaced to make restitution to the family of the murdered man. In Mexico, if individuals reach an amicable agreement, there are no criminal charges. The man then proceeded to return to his wife, his family, and the town in which he had lived. His wife, who was unable to walk unaided, and the boy, who was still recovering from his head injuries, accepted the father and, with great forgiveness, the family was restored. He had seen that child, plus a young person, and would not have known such a trauma had occurred. Apparently, the wife had been able to receive and welcome her husband, and her life in the community had shown another remarkable chapter in preserving life’s purposes. The mere fact that such a great and harrowing experience could be overcome in the fires of Love was transformative for me.
Still, my brief visit to La Manga continues to put into perspective the possibilities of culture and even survival as we know it. I couldn’t help but ponder if we ever see a “break” in life as we know it, whether within our borders or affecting nations, “how would we deal with it?” Could we live, exist and prosper? Find joy even? no electricity, looking for our own food, getting along. Surprisingly I imagined which ingredient is the most important, what is the most precious and I remembered those children and it was totally true… love, …… love is the solution, love is the way in which all obstacles are overcome. things, solutions are found for everything… may God bless us and guide us all… Thank you, La Manga! My love!