Stranger in a strange land

I recall an incident that happened to me once while I was on business in El Paso, TX. I was in a wreck. A couple of Mexican national’s in a big ole van side swiped me, then followed me to a spot off the main road where we could talk. They took off when I said I was calling the police, but before that they had made it perfectly clear that traffic law was quite a bit different in Mexico.

Anyway, I finally made it to my appointment. I was talking to some of the folks that worked there and it turns out that they were all from Mexico—or at least their parents were. So we struck up a conversation about the differences, but when it came to the part where I told them about the wreck it got quite.

I learned at least three things: two right then and one later. The first was that it’s never a good idea to get into a wreck with Mexican Nationals in El Paso if you can look down the street and across the border. Bad place to be for a shiny white boy like me. The second? The Hispanic Americans I was talking with were in a rough spot. The Mexican folks didn’t like them because they were Americans. The American folks didn’t like them because they were from Mexico. I can’t remember what they were called in Spanish but it didn’t sound very nice.

Anyway…oh, the third thing: being a Southern Baptist with reformed views is exactly like that. The Baptists don’t want you because you personally send babies to hell and the reformed folks don’t like you because you’re a Baptist.

Oh well, I have a feeling God doesn’t respect anyone’s opinion really.


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