A Memory for Mexico

To me he was Brother Aurelio.

He couldn’t read and he couldn’t write.

He spoke Spanish with a true Chiapaneco-campero twist, a Mexican version of American Cajun. After three months in Palenque I, the American, was the one who had to translate for my Mexican-native companions.

Seven pesos for the ‘convi’(a VW hippie van) from Palenque to Pakalna. Ten minutes with stops. Fourteen pesos for the bus ride from Pakalna to the third stop before Catazajá, thirty minutes. We jumped a fence and started to walk a trail. We cut across fields and maneuvered through jungle, we steadily crept across a bridge with alligators below… luckily it hadn’t rained the night before and we were able to cross the river. Up ahead in the clearing we could see a small farm with a sheet metal roof and two hammocks draped across a small porch - just minutes under an hour walking. Brother Aurelio was already on his way out to meet us.

He took off his hat, “que pue Elde, ¿no-les comier-un lagarto pue?” I shook his hand and told him that because we were missionaries, the Lord had spared us from being eaten by the alligators. He smiled and invited us to have a drink of water before we set out to catch our meal.

Brother Aurelio grabbed his rifle and we were off to catch an iguana. We entered the thicket at high noon and scoured the sun bathed branches of skyscraper-like trees with our eyes. Una negra was the first to be spotted, on the low hanging branch a small tree about eye-level and only about ten yards away. I steadied a sling-shot loaded with a rock and let it rip. The rock whizzed over the top of the lazy beast and he did nothing. My companion then aimed and fired, and struck the iguana squarely above his exposed hind leg - the lizard only twitched. We then relentlessly opened fire until one of us struck him right in the neck. The stunned iguana dropped from the branch and fell confused onto the grassy forest floor. I fearlessly reached my hand down and scooped up the lizard and held him up for brother Aurelio too assess. “No ‘sta ueno. Demacia’o chico pa’ comer”. It was too small, so we let him go. Not long after, Brother Aurelio signaled for us to follow him, then he steadied his rifle and fired one shot. What seemed like at first to be a small iguana high up in the tree tops began to fall from the sky and increase in size. I got ready to run up and grab the lizard, but when I saw the monster land a knot suddenly appeared in my throat and my limbs wouldn’t respond. The orange iguanazo hit the ground and immediately stood up on its two hind legs and started to run for the river. It was not so small and suddenly I was not so brave, it looked like a velociraptor with a carnivorous mouth ready to feed - so I stepped out of the way and let it jump into the river. I sadly turned to my companion and we both shared expressions of disappointment, until Brother Aurelio told us to be patient and wait. He slowly walked downstream and carefully watched the water… a few minutes passed and we heard a splash a little further down. We ran over to find the iguana had passed away floated to the top. Brother Aurelio reached in the water and pulled our dinner out. We later had a wonderful meal, Iguana enchilado with rice and beans. We shared a scripture and prayed together, then my companion and I began the long journey back to Palenque.

As we left brother Aurelio took of his hat and yelled from the porch, “CUIDA’O LO LAGARTO! NOS VEMO’ ‘L-DOMINGO!” My companion and I just waved and kept walking. We made sure we stayed far away from the edge of the river and the alligators.

I am still amazed. Every Sunday, nearly four hours of travel time and eighty-four pesos in travel expenses didn’t stop Brother and Sister Aurelio. Every week bright and early they were waiting outside the small prayer house in Palenque to attend Church, partake of the Sacrament and pay their tithing. Their testimonies were strong, even when they were the only members of the branch to attend Church services lead, directed, and administered by two young missionaries. Their faith never wavered.

I will always remember how he spoke, such a humble man with a Chiapaneco draw and yet “it must needs be that the power of God must be with him” (2 Nephi 1:27). He was an inspiration and an example to me.

Yet he couldn’t read and he couldn’t write.

But I’ll never forget Brother Aurelio.