The City of Churches

The Aqueduct built by the Spanish

Ok, so remember when I said that Xela was one of the most beautiful cities I’d ever been to?  And then I said the same thing about San Cristóbal?  Well, I’m going to say it again, this time about the city Querétaro.  And I’d even hesitate to say it’s more beautiful than the other two (shhhh, don’t tell them!)!

Copper-domed cathedral and street market

Querétaro lies just north of Mexico City, only a short two-hour bus ride away.  It is a city made famous by its aqueduct built in Spanish colonial times, its many parks and relative safety, and its church history.  Querétaro is also a fairly safe and wealthy city, and attracts many tourists and Mexicans alike.  Querétaro is (from what I was told) the city from which the Catholic Church sent off the Franciscan friars to establish Missions throughout Northern Mexico and California.  As such, the city has been called “the city of churches”.  I kid you not, there’s a church or cathedral on every block!  And the parks!  There were so many scattered about the city, each with a different theme or memorial purpose.  And this time of year they were all decorated for Christmas—lights, garland and red and green everywhere.  Also last, but not least, it is home to the best taco place I have ever been to :)

Rachel and I with Cessi and Arturo and their kids
at the best taco restaurant ever

Rachel’s friends hosted us during our time in Querétaro, a wonderful family who is from Mexico but has also spent some time living in California.  We had many engaging conversations, including faith diversity, social action and justice, the Church in the United States vs. Mexico, and updates on family members.  We shared delicious meals of authentic Mexican food, from atole drinks to tamales to tacos to chicken smothered in mole sauce.  We wandered the city, visited the many parks, churches and the aqueduct.  We also did some laundry (about time!).  And ate a lot of crepes (I don’t know why, but they’re wildly popular in Mexico).  Honestly though, there is nothing more that I love to do than to sit in a park, sip some coffee and watch the buzz of activity around me.

Though not unique to this stop on our voyage, I would like to take the time to share with you one of the biggest lessons Rachel and I had to learn on our trip.  It’s a lesson I continue to struggle with: accepting hospitality.  At each stop, we were welcomed into the homes, the ministries, and the lives of friends, acquaintances, and complete strangers.  They fed us, gave us a place to stay, coordinated our time, provided transport, and all around hosted us without asking for anything in return.  And it was hard to flat-out accept such kindness.  I don’t know if it was something about our pride or our independence or whatever that made it really hard to swallow.  Rachel and I at first would try to offer some form of payment but after being turned down several times we just had to accept it.  We came to a monumental understanding: the next time we have the opportunity to host someone, friend or stranger, we should do so in the same manner as we experienced on this trip.  I guess it’s sort of like paying-it-forward.  

I wish we practiced more limitless hospitality like this in our culture, especially our Christian culture.  I feel that we’ve set too many boundaries and limitations on our hospitality—only when it works in my schedule, or only if I have the money for it, or only if I owe that person something, or only if I can get something in return.  It shouldn’t be like that.  And I know what you’re thinking: “What if we get played, Kelsey?  What if people use and abuse us for our generosity?”  Well, my only reply to that would be to recall Jesus’ story of feeding the hungry, clothing the naked, and sheltering the homeless because in these actions you are feeding, clothing, and sheltering Jesus as well.  God’s love and mercy know no bounds.  Should ours?

Stay tuned as I share about the most boring, long, and scary part of our trip!