If you’ve never been to El Paso

We moved to El Paso in 2009. My husband had just finished medical school in Chicago and he matched to a residency program there. I shopped at the now infamous Wal-Mart. My husband trained at the hospital where most of the victims were taken. We did not choose El Paso. There were several other programs we thought we would have preferred. I had never been there; my husband had only flown in for a brief interview among visits to many other cities. 

We were both surprised by the fact that you could see the Mexican communities in Juarez while driving down the freeway. The way the houses were laid out, the style and colors, everything spoke to there being a foreign country across the river. The great Rio Grande, was a little less great than we expected. We weren’t thrilled with the weather. Whenever it rained, the streets filled up with water. Despite being constantly ranked as among the safest cities of its size, people put bars on their windows as a decorating decision. Despite all of that, I wanted to share today how we fell in love with El Paso because of her people.

We had four small children at the time and chose a Spanish Immersion school for the ones that were old enough. Once enrolled, we received a form letter that stated, “because of limited English proficiency, we are recommending that your child attend…” We got a good laugh out of that. It is not an exaggeration to say that my children were the only blonde-haired, blue-eyed students in the entire school. I remember standing with the other parents waiting for the kids to be released. I struck up a conversation with another mom and when the children came out of the school and ran toward us, she commented, “Oh, I see yours.” It was pretty obvious.

Living in those circumstances, I can tell you that ethnicity simply wasn’t a thing. No one cared. My family and I were embraced whole-heartedly and with open arms. There were, however, definite cultural differences between what I knew and my new home city. Let me share a few.

When my children were invited to a birthday party, which are a big deal, I would show up with the invited child. The host was always very confused by that. They knew I had several children and why hadn’t I brought all of them? They were expecting the family! More than once I was sent home to get the others.

I once got into a fender bender where I was at fault. I gave the woman my number and insurance information and drove away. An hour later I received a call from her son. She was still sitting beside the road, not knowing what to do. He asked when I was going to take her to get her car fixed. They are a very interpersonal relationship kind of people.

Speaking of cars, I frequently had tradespeople show up at my door. They noticed I had a dent in my car or a rock chip in the windshield. Could they fix it? Business was always done with a promise and a handshake.

There was a couple that dropped their granddaughter off at the same bus stop I took my daughter to. We chatted each day. Once I mentioned that the icemaker in my refrigerator was leaking. My husband was working long hours and I wasn’t sure when he would be around to fix it. The couple followed me home after the school bus left. The grandpa fixed my ice maker, which involved going up into a crawl space in the ceiling. They acted like it was exactly how anyone would have handled the situation. I didn’t even know their names.

One of my favorite eccentricities was how every woman, including some who were younger than me, called me “mija” which is translated as “my daughter.” It seems very appropriate upon reflection, because the people of El Paso accepted my family as if we were their family. 

I made a lot of friends during my time in that beautiful city. Some were Hispanic, some were not. Many were in the military. I can suppose that some were not citizens, although I don’t know. They did not all have the same political opinions. I had friends on every side of the spectrum. But they seemed to understand that disagreeing with your neighbor did not mean that you shouldn’t serve them. They are a community kind of community and everyone serves everyone. They are a people full of love. They are a family. 

God doesn't orchestrate tragedy or hatred, but he does use them to lead us closer to him. If you have never been to El Paso, please use the recent tragedy there to learn from her people. Consider it, as I do, a privilege.