Stress, Traffic Jams, And Shopping Lists

I was emailed the below video a couple of days ago and it affects me every time I watch it. Though the message is Christian based, the concept is one that everybody can grasp.

Last year (around this time) we learned about how much money is spent "around" (double meaning) Christmas and how little of it actually trickles down to those who need it. Of course water is one example as cited in this video, but you could easily find somebody in your own neighborhood that could use help (time, money, friendship, etc.)

I post this video for those who feel like something has been missing during Christmas (and a couple of examples of what they could do.)

The Northwest's Never Never Land

A couple of weeks ago we were planning a business trip to Seattle when I offhandedly suggested that we should go to Victoria, British Columbia afterward. We had an unused train ticket from Whitefish, Montana to Vancouver, Washington that needed to be either used or charged backed to our card so we were able to rationalize a low cost vacation without spending much extra. I had no idea that this very simply put together plan would be one of our favorite trips that we have been on together.

We headed up to Seattle on the train early Wednesday morning on the Amtrak Cascades which is our favorite train because of it travels 80+ MPH in some places (I used my GPS.) It was a cold clear morning and the leaves in most of the northwest had already turned yellow and orange. All of this color at 80 miles per hour made the train ride to Seattle feel like the beginning of the old Dr. Who program.

We actually arrived in Seattle a little before our scheduled time so Nicole and I walked from the station, to downtown, to Pike's Place Market, to Belltown, and finally to the Space Needle.

In order to be "mobile" we had packed 4 nights worth of clothes in our respective backpacks. In the planning phase this seemed completely rational. Around the Belltown portion of our trip Nicole was in complete agony. She had injured her back (most likely from ping pong) a week earlier (but after we had made arrangements for the trip) and had thought that it was in shape to carry a pack. I could tell by her face that the whole "backpacking around Seattle and Victoria" wasn't realistic.

We sat down at Zeek's Pizza and discussed scenarios from going home (right then) to pushing through with pain killers and buying a huge pack for me to carry everything in. After a long discussion, Nicole surrendered her mind (pain does that) and asked me to make the best choice. I sat there staring into space for a very long time. After pushing around ideas I called a cab and we rode up to that evenings destination near Green Lake.

That first evening (our business portion of the trip) was with the organizers of Club Rust and managers of Rancho La Paloma. (I wrote back in July about how that experience affected me and gave me the desire to be a part of something like this.) We enjoyed an incredible dinner with them and great conversation. We had the most wonderful time with their family and can't wait to see them again.

The alarm was very unwelcome at 5:30am. It took me nearly two minutes to find my cell phone (alarm) and make it stop beeping. It was of course pitch black outside and the house was completely silent. We had to catch the bus to the Ferry before 6:15am so Nicole shuffled to the shower and I repacked our bags. We tried as quietly as possible to not wake anyone as we walked through the complete darkness of a home we barely knew. I'm sure everyone woke up as I walked awkwardly up the stairs without any lights carrying two giant backpacks. Nicole's back had reached its peak in pain the night before and in the morning felt somewhat better. I still decided to carry both packs for now, despite Nicole's protests.

Once out on the street we walked a couple of blocks to a gas station to get change for the bus. I had forgotten how many people in Seattle commute at such an early hour. Even at the bus stop there were a handful of people wearing business attire for work and it was barely after 6am.

We boarded the bus and I was once in awe of the Seattle phenomenon of a completely full bus (people standing too) yet there was absolutely no talking. I could only hear the sound of the bus brakes and the occasional "ding" informing the operator that a stop has been requested. It reminded me of when I was riding the same bus system years ago:

(by the way...below is a flashback story so if you want to skip down to the current event, read past the italics.)

I had a morning routine. Living alone on Queen Anne made me very regimented. Every workday I would get up, turn on the TV (I worked in TV so I had to see what was going on in the world as it was going to be what my day was focused on.) After absorbing the headlines, I would head to the shower, get dressed and walk out the door.

I liked to leave a little early in the morning (didn't have to be to work until 8am) so I could get in a long walk to the Starbucks (I think it was on Boston and Queen Anne Ave.) I loved walking there for several reasons. First was for the mocha. This was my kick-start for the high energy environment that I was headed to (a newsroom.) Second was (and this is sorta sad) that it was the first place every day where I would actually talk to another person. I'm guessing that for many of those who are single and live in the city, the first thing you hear from another person at the beginning of the day is "Welcome to Starbucks, can I take your order?"

The third reason I walked up to this location was because the bus route originated (i.e. first stop.). This meant I could guarantee a seat anywhere on the bus. After much thought and many bus rides I determined that the best seat was behind the back door on the right-hand side of the bus. From this perch, I could see everyone in front of me and because there is a Plexiglas shield separating the doorway and that elevated position, I could see reflections behind me. I could see all.

Typically I would sit in this seat, drink my Starbucks, listen to music, and read (all at the same time.) From time to time I would remove my headphones just to listen to a quiet, full bus. Again, full bus...people standing in the aisle...no sound, just engine noise.

Until the morning I changed all of that--if only for a moment. On that particular day, I rode the bus sitting at my typical perch, listening to Cirrus and reading "Fight Club" for the tenth time. It was a warmer day because I remember feeling the sun on my arm and wearing short sleeves.

I was halfway to my destination and fully involved with my book when the hair on my right arm kept twitching like a piece of lint was caught in it. With my coffee in my left hand and my headphones in my ears I looked to my right and saw the biggest, hairiest spider I had ever seen in my life, headed up my arm toward the open part of my sleeve.

My reaction was what you would expect of any twenty-something former Marine. I screamed like a little girl. Not only did I scream, but I screamed until I could hear myself over the music in my headphones. The coffee in my left hand flew up and mocha coated the Plexiglas in front of me. I brushed the hairy spider off my arm and it fell to the floor in front of me. I stomped and stomped HARD until I was convinced that I had killed it by observing the bug juices smeared on the floor.

At this point I was oblivious to anything else around me and my headphones were still in my ears. I regained my composure and looked around the bus. Everyone was staring at me like I was crazy. To them I had screamed and stomped the floor for no apparent reason. I tried to explain it to the one person who maintained eye contact with me, but he just shook his head.

After a couple of minutes I could see other people giggling to each other about my reaction--I laughed pretty hard at myself, too. I tried to imagine what it must have looked like to all the other business commuters on that dead silent bus.

Starting the next day I took an earlier bus and did so for the rest of my time in Seattle.

Now...back to our story . . .

(just after 6am on the bus going to the ferry terminal)

We hopped off the bus near the Space Needle and walked the remaining 1/2 mile to Pier 69 where we were to catch the Victoria Clipper. It was just before 7am and the sun was still down. It felt like we were the only people on the waterfront. Once inside the terminal we got in line, passed through security and got on board.

The Victoria Clipper is a relatively high speed, fully enclosed passenger ferry that takes people from Seattle to Victoria, British Columbia in about 2 and a half hours. The ferry we were on had two levels with a view from nearly every seat. There were also food and beverages served on board so Nicole and I were able to wake up with a fresh cup of coffee.

About an hour after leaving Seattle the sun broke through the clouds and we were able to see the many islands and the shoreline of the Olympic Peninsula. For the time remaining on the boat I watched for any signs of a breaching killer whale while Nicole spread out over 3 seats and was swayed asleep by the gentle rocking of the boat.

I had never been to Victoria and to be honest, had always been turned off by what I had heard. "Oh the gardens and flowers are so beautiful," or "You must have high tea at the Empress Hotel". The more I heard about it, the more it sounded like something that would never appeal to me.

The boat slowed and eventually we made our way through Outer Victoria Harbor (or should I say Harbour?) As we entered the Inner Harbour I felt like we were arriving on the shores of some European country. The unique, modern architecture of the condos and homes were a refreshing change from the typical style that line the streets of the Pearl District in downtown Portland. Mixed in with new was the old...Victorian old. The Empress Hotel is on the elbow of the Inner Harbour and as we approached the still waters reflected the red ivy that covered the building. I could tell by looking that Victoria wasn't just a city of flowers and tea; it was a cosmopolitan town with international influence.

We hardly took two steps out of Canadian Customs before I pulled my camera out and started taking pictures of everything. On each trip I try to learn a little more about my camera and photography, and I think that on this trip it paid off. Because the sun was so low in the sky (even at midday) the lighting was perfect for pictures. The majority of the pictures I took were a little on the dark side, but that touch made the photos even more "European." (When was the last time you saw a bright picture of London, Paris, or Amsterdam?)

We walked to our hostel (near Chinatown) and checked our packs in (we couldn't check in until 3pm) and headed back to town to find a bite to eat. Nicole had done research before our trip and found a very good (and cheap) sushi restaurant, Sushi Plus. For those of you that need sushi to be served in a neo-uber-space age-sterile-swanky-pretentious-environment, Sushi Plus is not for you. It was a very small, hole-in-the-wall restaurant where you can see all of the food being prepared. The nigiri wasn't dyed which made the whole experience seem a lot more legitimate. It was obviously a local choice because it was packed with business people (not tourists...except us.)

We visited the many restaurants, stores, and sights of the area-all of them wonderful. I do want to list the restaurants and our hostel as it may be useful for those who need some travel ideas:

Our accommodations:

Ocean Island Backpackers Inn
http://www.oceanisland.com/
1-888-888-4180
791 Pandora Avenue
Victoria, British Columbia
Canada

Cons: If you want to go to sleep before 1am...bring earplugs.

Pros: Clean rooms, great functional furniture (think IKEA), infinite hot water, little cafe/bar on premises, travel information galore, and international traveler energy.

- - -

Places We Ate:

Sushi Plus
Irish Times
Demitasse
Green Cuisine
Siam Thai
The Mint
Mirage Coffee

The next day we walked all over Victoria. We went to hat shops, vegan restaurants (I drank water), many clothing stores and walked around the harbour.

I could spend all day taking pictures. We stood out on a rocky point in the cold, snapping photos of ferries, planes, and boats that seemed to go in and out of the harbor non-stop.

The planes were fun to watch because (on this day) they were flying in from the west, dropping down near the bridge, then suddenly banking to the right just before touching down on the water. It is definitely worth watching if you are ever in Victoria.

That evening (Friday night) Nicole and I hit the town...to the best of our ability. We had incredible Thai food and I am convinced that I ate an entire red onion (my dish was ground chicken, cilantro, red onion, and a little bit of lemon or lime juice).

After we finished we decided to go to a pub for a drink and desert. The whole town was packed with locals (mostly students from University of Victoria) so it was a little hard to find a place that wasn't standing room only. We eventually found a nice, down-tempo bar known as The Mint. Admittedly, we stood out like sore thumbs in our sensible clothing amongst the swankiest of swanky. That didn't stop me from ordering a Phillips Chocolate Porter and a piece of chocolate cake. Nicole ordered a fresh raspberry pureed mint julep. Though we didn't stay there long, we enjoyed sitting at the bar, looking around at the artwork and watching people. The bartenders were very nice and hospitable. The Mint is a place where you can hang out, listen to live music (that night there was a DJ) and "be cool" for hours on end.

The next day we took the public bus to Butchart Gardens. We had procrastinated this trip because the weather the day before was so gloomy. Saturday ended up being the best day because it was sunny and gorgeous outside.

The bus ride from Victoria was just under 45 minutes but that was because it was public transit. There are buses that go straight there, but they cost more than we were willing to shell out. It's also nice to ride the public bus because you meet some interesting people...but I'll get to that in a little bit.

The gardens are spectacular (even though there are far fewer flowers than spring and summer.) Nicole and I fought over the camera as we walked around the fifty acre park. The gardens are split into several sections such as a Japaneese garden, Rose garden, Chinese garden, etc. At the bottom of this entry is a link to more pictures of our trip and of the gardens.

Our plan was to go to a nearby Cajun restaurant that served alligator meat, but after walking through the gardens, I talked Nicole out of it because of time considerations (we had to be back to the ferry by 5pm.) After my hotdog at the visitor center, we hopped back onto the public transit bus to town.

As I mentioned, public transportation can help travelers meet interesting people. Because the bus was completely packed Nicole and I were forced to stand with many others in the aisle. About halfway through the trip I turned to see Nicole talking with someone at the very back of the bus. The girl she was talking to had a white face, black hair, and fake blood running from her mouth to her neck. Nicole asked if the girl was on her way to a Halloween party. The girl explained that the makeup was for something completely different.

Apparently in towns across the world there are random "flash mob" events called....wait for it...wait for it...Zombie Walks. The way it works is people go to a website (such as this one zombiewalk.com) and find out when and where a zombie walk will be held. At the time and place the zombie walk will be held people show up in full zombie costumes and makeup. Once assembled, they depart from the meeting location and walk around acting like zombies to another destination. The mob will go through malls, town squares, and even clog intersections all while holding their arms out in front of them and screaming "more brains" (you may need to do your zombie research to understand.)

After quizzing this girl, Nicole found out that the Zombie Walk was at 4 pm at a square close to our hostel. Excited for the photo opportunity, we got off at our stop, grabbed a quick bite to eat and went to the square and waited for them to gather.

I could not believe the number of people that showed up for this event. There were zombies everywhere. From little children to seniors, there were people who had spent hours on makeup. Nicole and I felt like press photographers as we ran around snapping photos at the very willing subjects.

Just before 4pm the mob came to life and started zombie-ing across the square and into town. I have to admit it was very eerie to have hundreds of people walk toward you (all in character) and scream "we want to eat brains!" In a few minutes the mob of nearly a thousand people filtered into the city and out of sight.

Here is a handful of the zombie pictures we took: http://picasaweb.google.com/NicoleandJeff/ZombiesInVictoria#

On our trip to catch the ferry (half an hour later) we ran into the mob again. This time they were far more dispersed and taking advantage of the uneasiness that it caused tourists on the street. Zombies were chasing people, walking up to cars at stoplights, and posing at every photo opportunity. We found ourselves captivated...so much so that we had to rush to catch our ferry.

On the ferry Nicole faded in and out of sleep, while I sat with a recently retired couple who were on their last leg of an around-the-world trip. They had gone from Chicago to Poland to India to Thailand to South Korea to Canada (Vancouver then Victoria) and were going to Seattle before returning to Illinois. Apparently they have been doing these 3 week "around the world" trips for the last 15 years. Each time they change it up a bit and visit different countries. The husband and I talked almost the entire trip about cameras, GPS devices, and the many places they have been.

We arrived in Seattle near 9pm and we had no idea where we were going to stay. You think we would have learned after THIS incident.

We walked up to the hostel near Pike's Place Market and checked to see if they had any private rooms. The guy at the front desk told us that they didn't but that we should check up the street at a place called the Moore Hotel. I barely wanted to stay at a hostel and the idea of staying in a cheap hotel nearby made me uneasy. At this point, Nicole and I talked about splurging on a really nice hotel.

Nevertheless, we walked the three or four blocks up the street to check out the Moore Hotel. Before walking in I told Nicole "let's ask to SEE the room before doing this." I was a little jaded from our Lynnwood experience a couple of months earlier.

At the front desk was Bob. Bob was about our age, energetic, clean cut yet Seattle-esque. He told us that the rooms were just over 60 bucks (not including tax) and that some had shared bathrooms. We decided to check out a room with its own bathroom. The room we checked out was clean, simple and seemed like a bargain so Nicole and I went back down and told him that we would take it (or one like it.)

Nicole asked Bob point-blank what the catch was. The entire lobby was marble and the building was vintage and clean. The rooms were very nice, very clean, and quiet, but the price seemed too good to be true. We had just called the Westin to check their rates (just a few blocks away) and they wanted 280 bucks a night. Nicole asked without any hesitation, "Is this place haunted?" Bob explained that the Moore Hotel was left to the wife and daughters of the prior owner and that the family isn't interested in turning the place into a swanky hotel. With that, Bob checked us into our room (mumbling something about an upgrade) and we took the ancient, tiny elevator to the fifth floor.

After walking down the longest, quietest hallway, we arrived at our room. Nicole gasped when she opened the door. Bob had REALLY upgraded us. We had expected to see a bed and a window like the first room we checked. Instead, it was a dining area (with a table for 8) a living room, a kitchen, and in the distance a glass door to the bedroom. It was huge. The windows were gigantic. There was a couch and two love seats, a refrigerator, stove top, and a flat screen TV. The bedroom had a gigantic bed and a view of the Sound (between buildings.) I was shocked at what we got for such a great price.

We went back downstairs to get suggestions for late night food and to thank Bob for the upgrade. He named off a few places to grab a late night snack and we decided to go with his suggestion for an Italian restaurant called La Vita E Bella in Belltown.

The food there was incredible! I actually found myself staring at my food trying to figure out how to prolong my meal (I got a mushroom ravioli) so it would never end. Our server was very helpful and we ended up talking with her for the majority of the meal. I highly recommend this place if you are ever in Seattle.

The next morning we walked to the train station, discussing our trip the whole time. We swung by a great coffee joint just before boarding the train, called Zeitgeist Coffee. Nicole even made the claim that they made the best rice latte she has ever had.

Eventually we boarded our train bound for Portland excited for our next adventure...whatever it may be.

Here are more photos from the trip: http://picasaweb.google.com/NicoleandJeff/VictoriaTrip#

The Drawing Board . . .

We are still in the Portland area, examining opportunities near and far. As fall approaches we have taken some extra efforts to add structure to our daily activities to keep us on track. I even bought the book "Getting Things Done" to help further our efforts. After rethinking our Whitefish experience we have re-focused our efforts and have been volunteering locally while still looking for our "place."

Throughout the summer we have been exposed to a number of volunteer resources, programs, and other organizations that are worth looking into. If you have ever wanted to volunteer (even briefly) or are looking into a career path that might be rewarding I recommend looking into the below websites (or search here: http://www.volunteermatch.org/) Also share some of your own as a comment...we would love to create a larger list!

(In Random Order)

Quest Aircraft:
Quest Aircraft Company, located in Sandpoint, Idaho, USA, produces the Kodiak, a single engine turboprop high wing STOL aircraft. The company was started in an effort to design an aircraft suitable for humanitarian applications throughout the world. The Kodiak's high useful-load is approximately equal to its empty weight, making it a very effective cargo airplane. An effort was made with the design and production of the Kodiak to produce an aircraft that outperformed its competition while selling for significantly less.

Forward Edge International:
Forward Edge International alleviates suffering through disaster-response work, health-care projects and programs for at-risk children. Since 1983, more than 10,000 ordinary people have found extraordinary purpose through serving with Forward Edge in many parts of the U.S. and 34 nations.

Club Rust:
ClubRust is a Christ-centered group of men and women that travel from the Pacific North West to Baja, Northern Mexico every year to build homes for the people living in make-shift shelters. It takes 3 days of hard work for a team of around 20 people to put up one of these homes. Families with kids are also welcome on trips.

~ ~ ~

Since we have been back (just over a week) we have renewed our interest in hot yoga, eating locally grown produce (expect an entry devoted to this in the future), and for our dog...rolling in horse poop (see photo right.)

Oh...and by the way...our dog now has a blog.
http://amusingmutt.blogspot.com/

Video From Mexico

I want to say thanks to Ryan who put this together. Video editing is one of those things to a "not-knower" would seem to be the easiest thing in the world. Those of us who have put video together (especially from hours of video footage) know that something like this can take weeks or months. Ryan managed to finish this in record time.

I'd also like to note that not only did he shoot video while in Tecate, but he also was there every step of the way hammering, cutting, and sweating with the rest of us. One second he would be on the roof nailing down plywood...the next he would be shooting video...moments later he would be right back up there hammering away. I am truly grateful for his double duty...without him this below video wouldn't be possible.

Direct Link Here: http://www.vimeo.com/1398644


Below is the embedded version...which may take a while to preload depending on your connection speed


Tecate, Mexico, Summer 2008 from Grace Missions on Vimeo.

The Week That Changed Our Life

(This will be edited several times over the next couple of weeks and also for those of you who were there, please comment to help add revise, add, or correct the story from below...what I wrote is purely from our memory)

> > > More Pictures Coming Soon < < <

We just returned from Mexico just over 24 hours ago and I'm still having a hard time adjusting. The hurry, the green, the running water, the flushing toilets...I can't help but feel guilty for how lucky we are to be in a place where the "comforts" are plentiful. Here I am sitting on a leather couch, drinking water, in an air conditioned house . . . I had no idea how much I take for granted until a week ago.

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.

For me arriving at San Diego was a surreal experience and here's why: Back in 1994, I traveled to San Diego to volunteer another "mission." This "mission" had us (upon arrival of San Diego) cross the Terminal 1 sky bridge, put our bags down and wait for a bus to take us on a life adventure. When that bus arrived on a cold night in January 1994 a man got out and started yelling at us. This was my first day in the United States Marine Corps.

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.

The buses arrived (minus the yelling drill instructors) and we loaded up all of our gear and climbed in. Everyone (with the exception of Nicole's brother Josh and a few others) was a complete stranger to us. The group on this bus were from Virginia (Arlington area) and knew each other...but not us.

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.

(Rather than go into the blow by blow of every moment, such as meals, meetings, free time, etc...I'm going to fast forward to the first day at our job site.) Also, here is an overview of why and how this all happened. Each newly constructed house cost around $10,000 in materials. Individuals and churches donated the money needed for the 5 houses that were built on our trip. The families receiving the houses did not earn them, pay for them or necessarily deserve them. The houses were given to them, completely free of charge. This is why the house dedication had such a tremendous impact on the family receiving and all of us who worked to make it happen. Hector, one of the leaders/builders who guides these projects, became interested in helping out when his family was one of the families given a house, over a decade ago.

The home site was a 45 minute bus ride from the ranch (most of it on paved road, but with a sizable portion on dirt.) The site itself is up a hill/mountain looking west toward Tijuana (though we could never really see it...too much pollution.) On our first day the site consisted of cut lumber (2x4's and 2x6's), plywood, trim, drywall, and accessories typical to a house (windows, a door, vents, etc) all of which were positioned on the hillside next to a pre-poured foundation roughly as wide as two parking spaces at a typical mall and roughly the length of three parking spaces. I couldn't believe that we were going to be able to build a house (with a loft) in 3 days.

The first day was all about framing. Amazingly and with very little instruction, we managed to have 4 walls up and nailed together before lunch. In my mind, I thought that at the pace we were going, we would be done early (this tells you how much I know about home building.)

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.

Immediately below our work site was the existing "home" for the future owner of H1. Their home was the size of a single parking space. They had dirt floors and a wall that consisted a garage door, broken scraps of plywood, and hanging sheets to connect them. There was an old mattress to sleep on, a propane heater, and a container for water (which they had to haul up the mountainside routinely.) Just outside the house was an "outhouse" which, without going into too much detail, was a board seat with a roughly cut hole in the center. Their living conditions were unbelievably poor.

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.

This day was dedicated to building interior walls, the construction and the mounting of the roof eaves, electrical wiring, and the roof itself. Even though we had a slower start we managed to have H1 roofed off (minus the roofing) by the end of the day. It was then that I realized that we still had a lot to do.

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.

This story when it was told to us moved us tremendously when they returned to the work site. It was a wake up call...this is what people have to do to survive (and their families) in this poor portion of the world. I will never forget this thief and I will never have ill will for his attempt. I hope that Hector (pictured left) and John had an impact on his life and helps him see the world in a light that he may have never been exposed to. That experience energized us through the rest of work day 2.

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.

The day pressed on and so did the heat. We did manage to get into the groove and though 4:30 came and went, we reached a stopping point around 5pm. The house was 95% done. There were some vents that needed to be installed and the walls would need some mudding, but all in all 2 homes were nearly complete. Also (to our relief) we found out later that Hector and Pablo would come the next day to complete what needed to be done.

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.

The rest of the time there consisted of relaxing, traveling to Tecate, and visiting an orphanage. There are plenty of details that I have left out in the interest of keeping this short(er) such as the random dogs (that we weren't supposed to feed...but Nicole did anyway because it had the demeanor of our dog back home) or the filthy conditions nearly everywhere. I also left out that we had cold showers every day, slept on rock hard beds, and we couldn't flush the TP in the toilet. We had to use bottled water just to brush our teeth, too. All this and we were considered amongst the privileged in comparison to those who lived outside of the ranch.

(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