(a very posed picture - they were laughing 2 seconds before)
I would use the word "group", but what that 36 hour travel ordeal really did was form this group of virtual strangers into a cohesive team and forged a bond that extended easily to the others who were in Tijuana living the life in their posh hotel. (just kidding - i'm sure it wasn't too luxurious!) Helping lead a trip like this is always an interesting experience - you never know what to expect or what the students involved will take from it. Bear with me as I try to explain a few of the moments that transformed us all...
Crossing the border into Mexico, we could already tell the vast difference in attitude and condition of life. Walking across the bridge into Tijuana, we met no officials, no area to present documentation, just a sign at the border and a metal revolving gate beyond which several men stood waiting by a bus to take them to shelters, having been deported earlier that evening. Beyond that we were led into a slew of taxi drivers all willing to take us wherever our hearts desired. This was a sharp contrast to what we would experience later.
After a night's sleep in la casa frio (a very cold casa - there is no heat!), we began our tour of the border. If you think there is a fence that separates us, you are partially correct. The whole truth is that there are three visible fences. One in Tijuana, and two more beyond that. There is a saying on the fence that goes something like "you have closed the gate to the city, but opened the gate to the desert." In effect, those trying to cross are now forced into other areas which expose them to the elements of the desert crossing and the mountains. The fence in Tijuana is lined with crosses and "decorative" coffins reminding us all how many have lost their lives in search of a better life. It's easy to think, well, they shouldn't try to come here illegally. The fact is, though, that the risk is too often worth it when they cannot find work or feed their families. At that point, most of them will risk their lives trying to provide. They are not trying to steal our jobs - most of the jobs they do, we would turn up our noses at. They are trying simply to live.
Unfortunately, when a few of us went back across the border into San Diego to claim our luggage, we saw the pervasive cynicism present in the border patrol. As we approached the border, there were signs that assured us that the US personnel were there to treat us in a welcoming fashion, to be polite and courteous. What we encountered instead, was a man, who upon learning that we were working out of the Casa del Migrante, asked if ours were the ones they kept throwing out and if we were working for the competition. I thought it wiser not to debate the point at that time. Another day though.... :)
Day 4: The Orphanage
How could you look into the eyes of these children and not want to take them all home?? That was the sentiment of most of the girls anyway, and maybe even Steve and Ross. To Steve's credit, he did not frighten allthe girls, just a couple. ;) As we arrived, we were met by the children with such enthusiasm, it seemed clear to me that they did not understand their own situation. Sadly, we learned that only about 5% will ever be adopted. Most will spend their entire childhood in the different orphanages. Many of the girls ate up the attention, laughing, playing, roughhousing with the boys, taking their own pictures..."una mas! una mas!" One little girl was not quite as enthusiastic. In fact, she began crying when we tried to play with her. I must confess she's the one that captured my heart and I may have tried to...bring her back...(steal is such a harsh word, Becky!). It was amazing to see the difference in her by the end of the day. Just a little individual attention, and she, though still shy, was smiling and laughing. Though, Bianca is right and Steve did still scare her, I managed to get a blown kiss goodbye. Sorry Steve! ;)
Days 5&6: Working on the houses...
The neighborhood we worked in the next two days is nothing short of a shanty-town. Houses are built on top of a landfill out of scrap woods and metals. Many of the people in the area work in the landfill, either hauling trash or rummaging through it for cartons, metal scraps and/or aluminum that they can sell. That is how they make their living.
The woman in charge of our project, Paty, used to work in the landfill. Now, she and other women in the neighborhood have empowered themselves and created a community center with a daycare, kitchen and hair "salon". All this because one day someone came by and told them they were worth more than garbage and could dream bigger dreams. Unfortunately, many of the girls still cannot go to school because they lack the time or money. Donations from abroad help keep the center running, and keep many of the girls in school.
The students worked hard and had a blast, and within two days we had dry-walled and plastered two rooms. (Mr. Rossi - we tried to keep Bianca away from power tools - I promise! We might have gotten into the plaster though.)
Day 7: Another quick tour & back to the US of A
After seeing such desperate poverty, Friday morning we set out on a driving tour of the wealthy side of Tijuana. Multi-level, multi-million dollar, bulletproof houses built on hills and with ocean views. Private garages, gated yards, probably within a 20 minute drive of where we had worked before. Now, I don't have the spirit of voluntary poverty by any means, but to see such disparity between those who build their homes out of scraps and use a cement platform for a bathroom, and those who gate themselves off in their comfort and wealth is nothing short of sickening. Sure, the houses were beautiful, but at what cost? Unfortunately, the driver was going too fast for me to get good pictures of the area...
Later that afternoon, we packed up and headed back across the border by foot. The line to get in grew beyond where we could see, so when someone said there was a bus we could hop on for $5/person, we followed. Well, things that are too good to be true, often are indeed, too good to be true. It's illegal to enter that way. What they do is sell seats on tour buses with vacancy, but with a group as large as ours, we were easily noticed. One or two people at a time, and they turn a blind eye... So back in line we went. I was surprised at how quickly it went, and again, everyone was in great spirits and drank in the experience (and a few lattes and smoothies we found along the way!) An hour later, we were back in the US and never happier to be somewhere we knew our way around and could communicate without issue. What an insight to the experience of thousands of immigrants in our own community...
Day 8: A Little Travel Mix-Up and then Home Sweet Home!
Off to the airport first thing after staying in San Diego, and we are checked in to come home! Well, that is except the two Jills. Apparently, the second leg of their trip was cancelled and they had no flight from Dallas to Detroit. After a phone call, a manager, and about 20 Hail Marys, we found out that Delta had cancelled them off the flight in the chaos of our earlier situation. American quickly put them back on and we were on our way! Megan and I decided we were suffering from airline related Post Traumatic Stress Disorder when the gate agent laughed at our incessant questions making sure we all had seats on each flight. We did, and our flights even came in early! Thank you for all your prayers!!
Final Thoughts...
Thanks for bearing with me - I wanted to try to do justice to what we all experienced in our short time in Tijuana. I'm sure I have left things out. Even as lengthy as this was, it does not begin to scratch the surface of what is going on. One evening, Padre Luis came to talk to us about his own life and the people who come to the Casa. (And yes, Amanda, I might have been nodding off from time to time, but I still heard everything!) The story that struck me most was the mother who was stopped on a minor traffic violation after dropping her kids off at school, and upon the discovery of her illegal status, was immediately deported. No grace period, no chance to notify her children, just "get out." I could not imagine the horror and fear in those children's hearts when their mother did not come to pick them up that day. "These people" are not numbers, they are not "illegals" whatever their immigration status, they are whole people with lives beyond their lack of papers. True justice requires that we begin to see the dignity of the whole person when addressing the issue of immigration, legal or not. True justice demands that we look at the root cause - no one wants to leave their family and their homeland. There is a poverty that we cannot fathom without living it - what are we doing about that? We are a nation of immigrants who came looking for better lives, my own parents included. Just because they happened to have the means to get here legally makes them no more worthy of a better life than some of these kind, compassionate, hard-working people we met in our days in Tijuana. This is not an issue without a face. This is an issue of dignity, of justice, and of life. We cannot fool ourselves into thinking it is about borders - it is about survival and justice. It is about the "least of these." It is about loving our neighbors.
Post Script
As wonderful a time as we had, none of this would be possible without generous donations. Though our travel woes did not make a dent in our spirit, it did make a considerable dent in our budget. If you feel moved to make a post-trip contribution, please mail it to:
305 Michigan Ave.
Detroit, MI 48226
Checks can be made to the "Archdiocese of Detroit" with "student service outreach" in the memo portion. Thank you for your support of our mission!
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