Several Virginia Baptists — including this columnist — found their way south of the border to Mexico City for the recent gathering of the Baptist World Alliance. In a sense, I once again was following in the footsteps of my alter ego, William E. Hatcher. Readers know that I have portrayed Hatcher on hundreds of occasions. He was a prominent late 19th and early 20th century Virginia Baptist minister who traveled widely in his day.
In May 1883, Hatcher attended the SBC meeting in Waco, Texas, which afforded him an opportunity to travel with other delegates into Mexico. Afterwards, he wrote: “We have been abroad. We crossed the Rio Grande and tasted the rapture of seeing another country.” Along the way, he lost a brand new beaver hat when the hat and a large fellow traveler “undertook to occupy the same seat at the same moment.” The hat lost!
The greater misfortune came when Hatcher was arrested in a Mexican street market. He kept his friends in hysterics over his adventure.“The ground of our abridged liberty was an alleged crookedness on our part in the purchase of a twenty-five cent basket. We are pleased to report that we confronted our accuser and retired from the scene of the conflict with our basket swinging in peaceful triumph at our side. It is a perilous thing for a man to buy baskets in an unknown tongue.”
Unfortunately, he was traveling with some Baptist newspaper editors — “those venerable knights of the pencil” as he called them — who couldn't resist making newspaper copy out of his brief arrest.
Knowing about the basket incident, it was with some fear that this columnist boldly entered into the world of the street markets. My wife soon was on a first name basis with most of the venders and quickly learned the fine art of negotiation. I saw no twenty-five cent baskets. And I was careful not to give any alarm which might lead to my arrest. I have enjoyed imitating Dr. Hatcher but I do have my limitations!
I did return with many memories and impressions. The BWA met in a hotel next to the U.S. embassy. Every day we saw the never-ending cues, four lines deep, of Mexicans hoping to secure visas. The big issue of the summer of '06 has been around illegal entry into the U.S. from Mexico but there are legions trying to come via the legal route. Only the thin veil of the curtain in the hotel window separated us from the anxious multitudes.
We glimpsed two contrasting worlds south of the border. It was a world of the haves and the have nots. We saw hovels and mansions and very little in between. One account reported the average annual income was about $9,100. We heard that one of the leading sources of national income is the money sent back home from Mexicans working in the United States. We also were told that many villages are depleted of young men who have left in search of labor jobs, leaving the villages full of wives and children and old folks. The impression was that there must be a better way for a prosperous neighbor to help the Mexicans.
We arrived in time for the presidential election. People were lined around blocks to vote. The results proved indecisive with the leading candidates separated by a slim one-half of a percentage point. There were concerns voiced in the press of possible street violence. One day we stood on the main avenue to catch a tour bus and witnessed large demonstrations which were peaceful. We saw riot police in full gear carrying shields and lined around the embassies and other buildings. We remembered the slim margins of our own recent presidential elections yet there were no fears of violence in the U.S.
We visited the great University of Mexico City and learned that Mexicans value education as the way to uplift the people. There is compulsory education through the ninth grade. Some of the university buildings are decorated with massive stone murals and one of them implied that past revolutions involved guns, but the coming revolution depended upon the intellect.
The gigantic swimming pool complex at the university included a pool for the younger brothers and sisters of students. A guide explained that youngsters can come and swim and get a glimpse into the life of a university student and aspire after the better way.
We treasured meeting fellow Baptists from countries around the world. The gathering included forums on topics of current interest and it was enlightening to hear the viewpoints and concerns of others. The hallway chatter always opens opportunities to make new friends. The worship service hosted by Mexican Baptists displayed vibrancy and deep spirituality.
Tongue-in-cheek, Dr. Hatcher described his brief sojourn in Mexico as making him “feel expansive.” The BWA does that for a participant. For a few days, an individual rubs elbows with people from many lands, nations and languages. We realize that the world is larger than our own small circle. We appreciate the opinions and experiences of others.
And we appreciate home all the more. William E. Hatcher was born beneath the shadow of the Peaks of Otter in Bedford County, Virginia. He once wrote: “I saw in time the blue, burning mountains of Mexico, the weird mountains of Scotland, the Alps with their crags, brakes, peaks, glaciers and cascades, but not one, nor all together, could ever supplant the great mountain of my boyhood wonder. Now, when I go that way, my fine old Peaks of Otter is the only friend who has not changed; others have scattered or died but this friend always awaits me and stands up to greet me.” Like Dr. Hatcher, we always are glad to come home.
Fred Anderson may be contacted at P.O. Box 34, University of Richmond, VA 23173.