“Joy in My World”

Christmas in tropical Chacala looked like it was going to come and go without any of that “Spirit” that we equate with the season. Little did I know. On Christmas Day evening, I walked to the new Chacala Cultural Center— a little place with a big name and a big idea—and joined 100 locals and visitors for an evening “concert.”

When we arrived, a bit early for the concert, we learned we had just missed Santa Claus. A visitor had brought his outfit and enough presents for a huge passel of kids. Someone had contracted one of those uniquely rural cars with the loudspeakers to go through town announcing the event in Spanish, so lots of kids showed up for Santa! I was disappointed I missed it. The story I heard about it tonight was great. It sounded like it was an experience of a lifetime for many of the kids.

As the concert crowd gathered, it was fun to know and greet so many people I have come to know and love here, both local Mexicans from the village and gringo guests who have discovered and fallen in love with Chacala. The outdoor back yard of the Center was decorated with colored lights winkling on the fences, a little stage (was that the cover for the old septic?) with lights and microphones, and rows of chairs on both sides. An actual sound system was ready, crackling in pure local style, and beer and wine was being served in the back. Donations were accepted for the Center (it needs a bathroom! Hey, if you want to help, send a donation to my office in Santa Rosa, CA, and we’ll make sure it gets here).

I have no idea where 100 people came from in this little town. As we settled down, Rudy and Sandie began their first song, and I realized we were in for a treat. They sang for an hour, sweet songs, some rockers, original songs, some spiritual reminders, and Rudy brought out his Johnny Cash. The audience appreciation was clear. Nothing awesome happened, no records were broken, and no autographs were collected, as far as I know.

At the end, simple candles were passed out, and as we lit them, we began to sing Silent Night together, followed by the more up-tempo “Feliz Navidad.” As the final chords faded into the balmy night air, I realized that I was sitting in a plastic chair in a funky yard in a little (some have said primitive) village with a crowd of not-necessarily-like-minded souls a long way from “home” — and was experiencing pure unmitigated unquestionable JOY.

There was nowhere else on this planet I wanted to be and nobody else I wanted to be with, but right there, with those people, right then in that moment. I was content, I was happy, and I was feeling joy.

I still am.

Merry Christmas to us, and the joy in us, every day.