The Practice of Being Human

The stories below are small, but humbling. As the state of the world becomes less peaceful and more quickly exclusionary of differences, it is becoming all the more necessary to practice considering how our own judgements are formed and how they guide our treatment of others in the world.  

This is not a political post- simply some positive stories about a group of people I've chosen to support that deserve to be out in the world. It's the Good Stuff. And I think everyone loves a bit of the Good Stuff. 

Story #1: James, Hilda and Community Nurturing

My friends and I have been traveling to Mexico since April 2015, and I recently spent my 35th birthday enjoying a gourmet dinner at a friend’s winery with ten of my most adventurous foodie friends. I’ve become close with the owners since first visiting last summer and I regularly send fellow Mexico travelers there to enjoy their wonderful Tempranillo and tapas. 

The vineyard is owned by Hilda and James, a married couple who embody joy, a passion for life and a genuine love of others. James grew up in the L.A. area and has been making his wine since 2007. He loves winemaking with the contagious excitement most of us reserve for drinking it. Having been on many of his tours with various friends, his passion remains the same every time he informs visitors of his worm tea and organic approach.

Hilda was raised in the Mexican orphanage system. She is one of the sweetest people I know. When she hugs you, she hugs you. Her food rivals a Michelin star restaurant and my birthday meal there was easily one of the top three meals I’ve ever had. Hilda also runs the Corazon de Vida Foundation and tirelessly raises over $1 million a year to support orphanages in Mexico. The foundation and the incredibly dedicated staff provide opportunities far outside what the children would normally have available to them. It’s not rare to find a young resident interning in Hilda's vineyard kitchen; one of the teenagers I was fortunate enough to meet is now in culinary school in Tijuana and interning in San Francisco at Atelier Crenn, a 2 Michelin star restaurant.

Hilda's work and graciousness has always inspired me. It was easy to say yes when she asked me to consult on one of their special needs houses. I soon partnered with Rancho de los Ninos, an orphanage near the winery, in an attempt to bring more meaning and purpose to the residents’ lives. She was instrumental in facilitating communication with other professionals in Baja and Southern California, and the special needs house is now a full-blown, financially-supported project. The home has been renovated through a grant and, this month, several more professionals from the Tijuana area visited the orphanage to meet staff, take inventory of learning tools and collaborate with their dedicated Director, Jorge. 

Meeting Jorge in 2016 felt like something out of a movie; he is humble, gracious and hard-working. I am sad to say that I incorrectly assumed Jorge did not have a typical full-time job and that he and his wife ran the orphanage as their sole source of income. I learned that not only is Jorge a high school teacher who helps his wife run the orphanage in his "free time", Jorge also shared that he and his wife grew up in that same orphanage as children. They left, met, married and returned to the orphanage to support the children currently residing there. 

If you had said “Mexican orphanage” to me a year ago, it would have conjured thoughts of children living in deplorable conditions without proper care or nurturing staff. However, Rancho de los Ninos could not be farther from that image.

The property contains open courtyards, big trees, a farm in the back where children learn to grow their own food, clean furniture and living spaces, basketballs and soccer balls scattered around and plenty of room for everyone. The children I’ve met and played with are purely happy and love to play with anyone who comes to visit. The several dogs on the property approach you like a familiar friend and occasionally roll over for a belly rub. Jorge gave me a tour with pride, introducing me to some of the teenage boys and showing me which room used to be his. He laid out all the paper work he has finished and told me about the future he wants for the children that live there. He and his wife are genuinely dedicated to the place that raised them. 

My visit changed my entire perspective on not only the Mexican orphanage system (though houses with support from the foundation are likely better off than those without) but on the people of Mexico. It was becoming evident to me that people here take care of each other in a way that American culture seems to be conditioning us away from.

Meeting individuals that long ago left the orphanage system and later returned to help, regardless of their own resources, was heartwarming in a way I still struggle to describe. The idea of not only community building but community nurturing, especially with limited resources, has become a core value for my work ever since.

Story #2: The “Bad Hombres" of Hospitality

On a later trip to Baja, my friends and I were navigating the back country roads on our way to dinner. As we turned a corner, my then-fiancee caught the setting sun directly in his eyes and ended up nearly running off a 7-foot embankment. Though we were safe, the car’s front right tire was dangling over the embankment, stranding the car on the dusty road far from anywhere we could find a tow truck. Panic set in as we did not have cell service. We were stranded on a desolate back country road, miles from our Airbnb, with no way to contact anyone. 

After several minutes of entertaining not-so-hypothetical “what-if” scenarios, three cars approached us from the opposite direction and stopped on the side of the road. Without hesitation several men stepped out of each car, assessed the damage and began helping to push the car back onto the road. Knowing no English, they spoke to each other in Spanish and engaged our friends in the charades necessary to communicate their instructions. They continued to push and pull the car, sweaty and covered in dirt, for the 30 minutes it took to finish the job.

Once the car was operable we all hurried to reach into our wallets. They had completely saved the night not to mention the car and our trip. In all we had $80 in cash to offer. 

No one took a penny. Our insistent offers of grateful compensation for their help were met with head shakes and happy waves goodbye. 

The following day we were heading back to San Diego and desperately needed to stop for food before hitting the border. Our surf shack was a few miles from Splash, a cliffside restaurant known for its incredible food and entertaining upstairs karaoke.

When we walked in we realized we were out of cash. I asked Nico, the owner, if they had an ATM. They didn’t, so I told him we would see him on our next trip down while turning to walk out the door. Nico stopped me and told us that we could eat there without paying, that we were like family.

“Get me next time you come down.” he said, with a pat on the back and a smile.

I stood there a moment, feeling the rare and unexpected sense of trust, kindness and community between two people who had met only a few times. My bewilderment felt a bit embarrassing as tears welled in my eyes.

If you’ve been to Baja wine country, you know the road situation. After each adventurous, possibly muddy, definitely dirty weekend of driving the unpaved roads, we made a point to get the car washed while we ate (they offer car washing during meals specifically for this reason).

The gentleman who usually cleaned up my then-fiancee’s car came to our table to get his keys, as he normally does. We notified him that we ran out of cash and that we were going to skip the car wash this time. Without asking Nico, without hesitation and with a smile, the man held his had out, asked for the keys again and said, “It’s on me”.

The four of us finished our meals and headed North. Blown away, our hearts were swollen with gratitude and a feeling of community. As we sat in the sincere generosity and hospitality received that weekend, the car was silent. No one had to say out loud that we wished these were the stories being told in the media. Several days before this experience, our then-President labeled the people of Mexico as rapists, drug dealers and “Bad Hombres”.

I couldn’t help thinking that it was unlikely we would’ve received the same hospitality in our home country, one hour North.

In the days of extreme polarization, clickbait media, and groups or individuals whose priorities and power depend on heightened emotions, we need to be good thinkers — meaning, critical thinkers — capable of and open to different perspectives and information before making our own conclusions about places or people.

It’s challenging to slow down and take our time today; our opinions form fast. But it’s my hope that these stories offer an opportunity to open minds, to be a little more compassionate and a little more hopeful about the state of humanity beyond what we see on our screens.

I’m happy for these memories and I’m grateful for the people about which they’re written. I am no doubt a better person for knowing them.