My friends and family in LeRoy, Illinois only had one thing to say when I told them that I was going to spend my summer in Mexico. Some people would ask what exactly I was planning to do. Others would ask why. But the advice was always the same. Instead of all the cultural or economic rhetoric that we could have exchanged, they simply warned me about the water.

I arrived in Hermosillo, Mexico with only a vague idea of what I was really getting into. The orientation was soon over. The cowboy hats were purchased, and we were on our way to the village of La Quema. Literally "The Burn," our village was named for when the Yaquis set fire to all of the houses and levelled the town. It could have just as easily been named for the nearly unbearable daily high temperatures, but the heat was only one of our first surprises.

Our group of eight American and three Mexican volunteers soon began experiencing problems of group dynamics. As is typical of our respective cultures, the volunteers from our country were very independent while the three men from Mexico were accustomed to a group culture. Furthermore, Mexicans place a higher value on time spent with family and friends than they do on keeping a schedule. This became a problem for me when I wanted to leave at exactly six o'clock to go to work. These and other cultural differences were never exactly resolved, but the fact that they were brought to our attention was a beginning step toward understanding.

As we spent the summer together in the village of less than two hundred inhabitants, many things became apparent. One aspect that could not be ignored was the relative poverty of the villagers. They lived in one or two room adobe houses. The roofs of tin kept the rain out the majority of the time. A fierce storm came through the first week and left three houses topless. The outhouses were constructed of even more flimsy materials. Nobody in town owned a television, but it would have done them little good as the electricity was only turned on about two hours a night.

Less than half of the houses owned cars, leaving buses as the only means of transportation to civilization. A trip to the big city four hours away was not necessarily uncommon, but travel beyond that distance was. The only school in the village offered classes up to sixth grade. Many of the boys never made it that far, and few of the students went much beyond. Newspapers and magazines, or even regular mail for that matter, were not delivered. The only news came from two houses that had large antennae for receiving radio signals.

Despite all of this, everyone was content. With time the lines of poverty started to fade. The villagers didn't want to live in bustling cities. They never complained about their conditions. The majority were quite happy with their tranquil lifestyle. In fact, La Quema is a place that many idealists might consider utopia.

There is a definite beauty to living in a house that is made of earth molded by men. Nearly everything that the villagers have, they made themselves and certainly could fix if the situation arose. Much of the corn and cattle that they eat is raised in their backyards. Even the whiskey is made by the townspeople. This means that the village is self supported. It takes little from the earth and has little garbage to clutter landfills.

My friends in Mexico may not know much about calculus, but they know about the earth. They know which bugs to stay away from and which berries and cacti are safe to eat. They know better than to wash the lunch dishes in the hot sun. One of the American volunteers pointed out that if something catastrophic were to occur in the world, people like these villagers would be the only ones to live. The rest of us know very little about actual survival.

There is definitely a tendency toward stronger families or groups in La Quema. The biggest happenings in the village are the dances and other festivals that everyone shares. And even if a woman is just paying a friendly visit to her neighbor or her cousin down the road, she is sure to wear her finest clothes. Everyone is respectful of elders as well. If someone is home alone or a villager falls ill, the neighbors are sure to bring beans and tortillas and offer to do the dishes and housework for a few days.

It would seem like La Quema is unspoiled North America. However, upon even further examination, there are many signs of things from the other side of the border trickling down. We soon learned that corn and cattle were not the only means of subsistence for many of the farmers. Marijuana is grown in practically every spot that isn't visible from a helicopter. A little economic figuring demonstrates to the farmers that they are much better off producing a product with a higher worth despite the risks.

Our village benefitted from its proximity to the U.S. border in other ways as well. Approximately half of the men had been to America to work for varying periods of time. Many only made it as far as the border towns, such as Nogales, where they worked in primarily U.S. factories. Other less obvious influences of the first world abound in La Quema as well.

When the villagers did make it to Hermosillo to visit relatives or shop for a few special items, they encountered more American culture. Waiting for them in the new business district undoubtedly influenced by NAFTA are stores such as Sam's, Walmart, Price Club, and Blockbuster Video. If they can't find a relative to shack up with, the Embassy Suites should be completed soon. And not far away is the new ten-plex theater which surpasses the old theater by a mere eight screens.

The people of Hermosillo can't forget the United States. Though Mexico has stayed out of world politics for virtually its entire history, its people watch the global police from the north with a close eye. Even stories about Woodstock and O.J. Simpson make headlines in countries such as Mexico. Mexicans watch American movies and television and buy American products.

I write this because many Americans don't realize what America means to the rest of the world. Many Americans far from the borders certainly don't know what our relationship with Mexico means. Jobs go there. Drugs come here. Cultures are exchanged. Yet it seems like the Mexicans are the only ones who realize it. Americans are content to only think of themselves.

I may not have become as fluent in Spanish over the summer as I had hoped, but the Quaker organization known around the world as The Friends had other things in store for me. The 1947 winners of the Nobel Peace Prize continue to promote peace and understanding throughout the world. Despite what the folks in LeRoy, Illinois said, we did drink the water, and we did learn about the life and culture in Mexico.