Comments made at a recent memorial service remind us about the importance of family – not necessarily the family still living north of the border with whom we share DNA, but the one most expatriates form in the community they are living outside their native culture. Sometimes these chosen or collected families become more important to us on a daily basis than the ones into which we were born.
That person leading the memorial ceremonies talked about how, on the last day of the departed’s life, he woke up sick. His wife called local friends who rushed over to help. He was taken to the Red Cross, where the president of the volunteers saw him and called other friends who had the chance to see him and reassure him before he was transferred to Guadalajara. The call for the need for blood donors was placed on the local web board and came into my office by cell phone from the hospital in Guadalajara. Others in the community and I burned up the telephone lines contacting folks that we knew had the right blood type and managed to get two of them (one who had been up on his roof replacing tiles when we called) to drop everything and be driven to Guadalajara by another member of our community family who volunteered her services. A few minutes later at a large community event, the need for that blood type was announced as people were walking in. Two of the guests immediately volunteered to donate blood and without hesitation they left the party and were on their way to Guadalajara.
Neither of these donors even knew the patient but they did know that he was part of the Lakeside family.
I often use this space to rant about the bad manners, bad driving and bad attitudes of foreigners here. I have to thank everyone involved with this incident and the many similar events every year for stepping up and helping others in a pinch.
It’s what you do. It’s family.
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