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We left on Tuesday (July 1st, 2008) from Portland (Oregon) to San Diego (California). Nicole and I had on our travel clothes with our bags packed with our hot weather work clothes and other items that we thought were necessities for travel and work south of the border. I wish we had brought more...but only if we would have left it there.

When we arrived on Tuesday, our instructions were to cross that same sky bridge, put our bags down, and wait for a bus to an experience unknown. The similarity was striking and little did I know that the experience in Mexico would have echoes of that past military experience of the mid 90s.

On our drive down we met those who sat close to us along with the two that Nicole and I had agreed to chaperon. In the interest of protecting the identity of these two minors, we'll call them "Hank" and "Mary." I was asked to keep an eye on Hank (age 13) and Nicole was chaperoning for Mary (age 12). Both of them are brilliant young adults that know how to have fun, and can also be responsive/helpful in times of need. Those two had a tremendous impact on us and definitely made the trip memorable.
We crossed at the Tecate border crossing late in the afternoon without any snags. As we rode through Tecate the contrast was apparent immediately that we were no longer in the United States of America. We arrived at Rancho La Paloma roughly 20 minutes after crossing the border.
The ranch was a humble residence that, at first sight, seemed too small to house the 140+ people that arrived in the bus convoy. Everything was a shade of muted brown. The air was dusty. I could feel the sun immediately beating down on top of my head. This was Mexico.
We unloaded our stuff and Nicole and I went to our respective dorms (because of the number of people at the ranch, only a few couples with children were able to sleep in the same room.) My room had 6 beds (3 bunks), while Nicole's had 10 to 20 bunks (she was in the women's dorm.) I dropped my stuff off and returned to the palopa (our main meeting place) for our first meeting.



I should take a moment and talk about the homes (that we would be replacing) on the mountain side. They were shacks, sheds, shanties or whatever you call a residences that was a composition of pieces of broken plywood, metal scrap, old garage doors, and abandon buses or vans with boards over the windows. Sprinkled on the hillside were the occasional mobile homes that looked like they had been dropped from 10,000 feet...these were considered the "nice" places compared to the rest. Garbage and filth littered the ground everywhere you looked.
Our house that we were building, known as House One (H1) was amongst 5 that Club Rust would be building that week. Josh (Nicole's Brother) was the lead builder for H2 which was conveniently located 10 feet to the south of our assigned H1. Later on in the week we would all work (teams for H1 and H2) together to complete both houses.

As I mentioned earlier, we had all 4 walls up by lunchtime on the first day. Lunchtime was a welcome rest from the heat, dust, and pollution. We had to walk down the mountain side to our lunch (the buses couldn't make it all the way to the home sites because of the condition of the road and the pitch of the hillside.) Our lunches were sandwiches (choice of PB and honey, PB and jelly, or tuna fish) with carrot sticks, some fruit, and oreos (melted by the heat.) We ate for energy and it was delicious.
By the end of "building" day 1 we had walls up and a great start on the second floor (loft) along with some scaffoldings for the next day. We loaded into the bus tired and hungry. Many chatted on the ride home while others slept. By this time this feeling of tired yet satisfied reminded me of the days back in the USMC...hard work, team work, and a sense of accomplishment.
The morning of day 2 on the mountain side was a little slower. We were tired and immediately I noticed that people weren't drinking enough water. After a little encouragement, we picked up the pace and found our groove.

After lunch on work day 2, something happened that took us all by surprise. In the midst of all that hammering, yelling, and sawing someone yelled a words that didn't compute for a least 5 seconds..."THIEF! STOP! QUICK! GET ON THE RADIOS!!!" I was just walking off the road when we had a man on a beat up bmx bicycle ride through our work site and grab one of our backpacks and speed down the dirt road at an amazing speed. It seemed like there was nothing we could do. The trucks were blocked in, the man rode down the hill at what seemed to be 30 miles an hour, and we couldn't get to a radio to relay to other vehicles in the area.
After what seemed like an eternity, a jeep (loaded with people) raced down the hill a good 3 minutes behind the man. From my vantage point, the jeep looked like a car competing in the Baja 1000, sliding around corners with a cliff on each curve. Eventually the jeep drove out of site and we heard nothing of the status of the backpack thief.
While we waited for the jeep to return, we found out the contents of the missing backpack: a digital camera, a Blackberry, and other personal effects. The thief had made an excellent choice of packs and it had the potential to yield an excellent return for his risk.
Something should be said for what this guy did. In Mexico, people don't steal for fun, it's a weighed risked based on necessity. This man must have watched us for a long time, wondering how he could steal something without 100+ people grabbing him in the process. The explanation for his risk was explained best when the jeep returned to our site . . .with the backpack.
The rest of the backpack thief story was told by Grace Community Church's Pastor, John, when he hopped out of the jeep. He talked about the terrifying pursuit down the mountain, sliding around corners, bouncing all over the road, the whole time WITHOUT having regained visual contact with the thief. When they got to the valley floor they asked a construction crew if they had seen a man riding down the road with a pack. The crew had seen the man and pointed down a long road to where he had went. After a traveling down that road they could see the thief making his way up the other side of the valley (this was a LONG way from our work site.) Hector, the driver (and one of the heroes of this story) pulled his vehicle in a jackknife position in front of the biker and everyone got out. The man immediately threw down the backpack and rode away quickly. John checked the backpack to ensure that the contents were all still in the pack (though he wouldn't have known if anything was missing either.) Hector and the rest of the group climbed back into the 4X4 and pursued the thief again...this time for a different reason. After another jackknife stop, they stopped the thief again and asked him to empty his pockets (just to be sure) and Hector told the man that everything was going to be okay and the "policia" would not be contacted. Hector asked the man why he stole the backpack and the man explained that he had 5 children at home and he had no job...in essence it necessity that drove him to it. Hector asked the man if it would be okay if they would bless him right there. The man, full of shame, walked toward the 4X4, put his head down on the jeep while the other prayed for him. Afterward, the group gave the man $20 and welcomed him back to the work site for food if he wanted.

Day 3 on the mountain was vastly different from the previous days. H2 was seemingly behind (but I later realized that they had done a number of things that H1 hadn't yet completed.) H1 had plenty of things that had to be done as well. Most importantly, these houses were supposed to be finished (sheet rocked, roofed, trim, wiring completed, windows installed, and a door hung) by 4:30pm. To top things off, this was by far the hottest day yet.
The heat and the urgency may have lead to a couple of pauses in our operation in the form of injuries. I was on the roof of H2 when I heard someone say "DAVE!!! DAVE!!! WE NEED YOU RIGHT NOW!!!" Dave was our first aid guy (amongst many other vital roles) and when someone called out for him it was usually because they needed first aid.
From my vantage point I could see Julie holding her head and walking up to the road with blood running down her face. Somehow in the heat and rush, a swinghammer stapler had slid off the roof and hit her in the head. Dave immediately jumped off the roof and ran to her aid. After 15 minutes, it was apparent (to our relief) wouldn't need to be transported to the U.S. and that though she couldn't work for the rest of the day...she would recover.
Dave dressed the wound, knotted her hair to act as a suture, and monitored her as she sat in an air conditioned vehicle. Not more than 10 minutes after addressing this injury, another person (Courtney) was hit by a falling 2X4 and Dave had to care for her. Fortunately, Courtney received just a bump on the head and went right back to work. Without Dave and the others with medical training, we would have had to take some of these people off the site and possibly to San Diego for treatment.

At the end of work day 3 was the house dedication. It's important to note that no matter what I write about this dedication it can't possibly capture what it was like. The experience changed me permanently.
Leida, the mother and wife in the family that was receiving the house, walked into it after we gathered in a circle in the main living area. One by one people presented donations and gifts to her. The one gift that stood out at the dedication was a Spanish bible. She immediately started crying and would later explain (through the help of "Mary" our 12 year old translator) through her tears, said that ever since she was 10 years old she has wanted a bible. She was visibly stunned when Julie (with her newly bandaged head) handed her the keys to her new home. All the work, sweat, blood, and tears had paid off and Leida's reaction showed it. Again...this experience cannot be captured in words...I recommend if you want to know what it was like, you schedule a week next year to come. . .if it doesn't change you forever...I'll pay for your trip.
(A quick note on the "church" aspect of the trip. There was no preaching involved. Each day before we began to build, someone prayed for the house, for the family receiving the house, and for our day. On the last day of building, as we gathered early in the morning to pray for our day, one of the families receiving a home asked if they could join us in prayer. Just one of many touching experiences we had.)
Nicole and I made some (over 50) amazing new friends (too many to list!) We hope to stay connected with all of them as they each had a tremendous impact on us. The group that we worked on H1 and H2 were primarily from Arlington, Virginia, but we also made connections with people from Seattle area (Shoreline to be exact) and New Mexico.
This was a life changing experience and Nicole and I are still struggling knowing that there is so much need in the world. I suspect that we will be leaving again to do something like this very soon. At the very least we are planning a trip in the next couple of weeks to Arlington to visit those who affected us.
~"Preach the love of God everywhere you go, and if absolutely necessary, use words." Francis of Assisi
2 comments:
Jeff & Nicole,
I have been reading the blogs and staying up with where you are and how things have been going.
This entry moved me very much. You and your new friends are very special people and what you did was a beautiful thing.
thinking of you, stay safe
rob riley
Small detail, but I was actually still working on placing the dressing over Julie's head wound when they brought Courtney's injured noggin over to be cared for. There seemed to be a big pulse of injuries that morning on the third day. I personally was also was injured no more than 20 minutes later buy a piece of splash guard (made of sheet metal) when I neglected to put my work gloves back on and grabbed it by the end to hand it over to someone else. And as soon as I stepped back off the roof to treat my own wound, I had another person walk up with a burn wound on his fingers and two more with small cuts (a finger/lower leg). So in a matter of just one hour between a crew of approx 40 people working on two houses we had six injuries from a minor cut all the way to a open head wound. Thank goodness for God's protection and healing, as this could have been much more of a problem. -Dave
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