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The Promise of Peter Piper

February 18, 2009 | posted by Jon under mexico, updates

As we left the relative comfort and security of the Casa Migrante on Monday morning, I had no idea what to expect.  We tried to ask many different people about the road from Nuevo Laredo to Monterrey, but it was difficult to get a concrete answer.  The general concensus was that the road was dangerous, mostly due to drug trafficking and the unofficial “lawless zone” that exists in the 40 miles leading up to the border.  Some people we talked to told us we would have no problem at all, that we shouldn’t worry about a thing.  One man we talked to gravely told us that he hoped we would make through the stretch of road alive at all…..so it was with his words running through my head that we headed out into the drizzle for Monterrey.   

The first 20 miles weren’t memorable except for the fact that I was overly jumpy, eyeing each car or truck with tinted windows with suspiscion.  I wasn’t at ease, and wasn’t inclined to trust anyone except God, Lars and myself.  It was a stressful time for me, and I felt alone. 

The checkpoint didn’t help matters.  They asked us for the form that we filled out when we crossed the border.  The problem was we never filled out a thing.  We had to be driven back to the bridge to fill out the form and pay the $18.33 in order to leave Nuevo Laredo.  Aside from wildly fishtailing due to the rain on the way there, it was an uneventful process, and we were glad to be spared the additional 40 miles of riding. 

After leaving the checkpoint, the buildings diminished into scrub brush and prickly pear.  It felt like we were truly vulnerable now, especially with the fog that limited our visibility.  As we were riding along, a car/truck combination slowed down to our speed and pulled up beside us.  I was scared, and gave the truck a wide berth.  Still moving at 12 mph, a man rolled down his window on the passenger’s side and asked me in Spanish if I wanted a pizza.  I thought I had misheard or misunderstood him, still slightly doubting my Spanish abilities.  But as we slowly rolled along he reached down and handed me a pizza box, full of 7 still-hot slices of Peter Piper Pizza, complete with sausage, bacon, and onion with crushed chilis on the side.   

The pizza was, not surprisingly, delicious, and Lars and I delightfully pulled off to the side of the road to partake of our precious pie.  As we ate, we discussed the random kindness of this act, and how it fed more than our stomachs.  This pizza was reassurance that no, not everyone was out to get us, and that people still exist that are willing to help out absolute strangers.  Moreover, it was assurance of God’s providence (how else do you get a hot, fresh pizza in the middle of a rainy Mexican desert??) and protection.  Suddenly (and I think I can speak for Lars as well) we felt at ease, more comfortable in this foreign land. 

The remaining 35 miles passed easily with a wind at our back and the wide shoulder of the toll road, even more encouragement for the day.  After being told that we didn’t have to pay the toll (as long as we went around their gates), we left the main drag to look for a place to stay for the night.  We pulled into Super Stop and Go (think very friendly gas station without gas and better food), and began talking with the owners - Maria and Iseo.  They immediately sat us down in chairs and served us two boxes of taquitos.  From that simple act of hospitality flowed many others (see pictures)- tamale making instruction, tamales, coffee, and fresh grapefruit for dinner, a “casita” where we could stay the night, and then to top it off, breakfast in the morning (huevos rancheros, more tamales, hot tortillas, avocado, and more citrus fruit).  

As we left (after buying a dozen more tamales for lunch), we felt limited by our Spanish, lacking the words of considerable thanks necessary for such an outpouring of one´s home, business, and resources.  That’s how I feel now as well.  Limited by language in my ability to express the transformations that occurred throughout that first day in Mexico.  The theft we anticipated turned into abundant giving, and the fear and distrust we had was replaced with reassurance and hospitality, allowing us to simply relax and experience this new place we now find ourselves in.    My hope is that we can find ways to engage the “pizzas along the road,” with the intention of returning some of God’s many unexpected blessings we’ve encountered throughout our journey.