Kathy Cargnoni 2015
 

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When I was asked to share a reflection on my week with the Tijuana Ministry with all of you, I had trouble paring down my experiences. I could easily spend several hours sharing with you. But, as we only have a few minutes here, my main focus is on the word “Encounter”.

At our last meeting before the Tijuana Missions team left, Father Jon Pedigo came to speak to us.  Fr. Jon stated the importance of not just going to TJ to help people, but of the importance of encountering Christ in the people we met in TJ. He advised us to get to know them, to become community with them, and to hear their stories.

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 In all honesty, as a newcomer to TJ Missions, I went into this trip with trepidation and a good dose of anxiety mixed with enthusiasm and curiosity.  Although my husband, who has made this trip four times over the past seven years, has shared many pictures and stories with me I didn’t quite know what to expect.  I had fears of my children or myself getting ill from the food or water, I had worries of my children being exposed to things they had never imagined or seen and not knowing how to address their questions and concerns.  I went with an open mind, trying to be upbeat and positive for their sake, all the while bracing myself for the worst scenarios and praying for strength for the days to come. 

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As I drove the nine hours to TJ, Fr. Jon’s words “encounter Christ” became embedded in my mind and these words became my internal mantra for the week and my goal was not only to not only find Christ in the people I encountered, but also for them to encounter Christ in me.

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As we crossed the border from California to Baja California, I was surprised at how drastic the change in the surrounding environment was.  We went from green rolling hillsides and coastline to an austere, colorless, trash strewn, landscape in a matter of minutes.  As we drove closer to our destination of La Morita, and further from the border, I was profoundly shocked at the expanse of hillsides crammed with one room shacks, cobbled together with pieces of miscellaneous boards, topped with makeshift roofs of tarp. My first thoughts were “ghetto” and “war zone”.  Even the larger buildings and shops were not much better, mostly unfinished with exposed rebar and crumbling balconies.  Aside from a larger community market and a modern shopping mall with a theater and  a Wal Mart, even the  larger buildings we saw were in serious states of disintegration and disrepair.  My heart sank as we drove closer to San Enrique parish, our home for the week.  My husband had described the circumstances he had seen in Tijuana, but until one has seen firsthand this kind of poverty, it is hard to really internalize.  I felt that I was as aware as most people of what poverty looks like, but what I was seeing defied description and was almost otherworldly.  I sensed that what was going on in my head was being shared by the two teens in the back of my car, as my daughter and her friend became completely silent as we followed our caravan of cars to the parish compound.

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Looking around, it was hard to imagine Christ in these surroundings. Little did I know that He was in every corner of this harsh environment. My encounters with Christ were many throughout the week in Tijuana, beginning with mass on Sunday, where we were welcomed and embraced by the local residents. Throughout the week I had the pleasure of working in the children’s program, seeing how the children of La Morita were just as happy or perhaps happier than children who have all they want. Like children anywhere these kids were curious, eager to play, loved affirmation and personal attention. So many kids would show me what they had created, and would excitedly try to converse with me, unphased by my limited Spanish, the kids would smile at me and run off to the next activity.  Every moment seeing the joy in their work and the light of appreciation in their eyes was an encounter of Christ in these children.

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The following days, in between volunteering at the home site, I was blessed with the opportunity to work with the mother’s group.  It is here that I felt of most use and where I have since connected Fr. Saju’s words from last week’s homily to my experiences.

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Last Sunday, in his homily, Father Saju spoke to us of the importance of finding something in common with others, something similar that we share, rather than focusing on our differences. In looking back at the week, I found that I could relate to and empathize with the women I spent time with.   Like them, I am a mom, and like them, I want to give my kids the best that I have and make sure they are healthy, helpful and respectful. I want to share their joys, help them to deal with their disappointments and raise them to be good people. I can relate to the feeling of the sacredness of the families we are blessed with.  I am one with them in their hopes for all that is good and desirable for their families.  On the other hand, however, I cannot relate to their struggles, of which there are many.  I cannot imagine having to walk dusty hills and dirt roads to get fresh water every day, and use it to clean up, and wash clothes and dishes.  I do not have to take care of multiple children in a hot stuffy one room house with dirt floors.  I do not have to work in the dump all day and then take two buses on a two hour drive home to take care of my family.  I do not have to choose between food, shelter, clothing, education and medical care.  I have admiration for these women and the strength and determination and pride they possess in the face of the many challenges of their day to day lives.  I was delighted by these women and their hunger for fun and diversion.  They came in small groups to the program the first day, but by the end of the week their numbers quadrupled.  They immersed themselves 100%  into each discussion, prayer, song, lesson and craft, from making candle holders for their homes, to sewing purses and bags and making jewelry to take home.  Many of the women would arrive in the morning as strangers to one another and would soon be talking, laughing and building community with each other.  I was struck by how many very young mothers would show up each day.  Some of these girls were not much over 16 and would have a child with them.  Mother’s would show up with their small babies, without carriers, strollers or help, and would try to participate in crafts with a fussy baby in one arm.  These mothers would gratefully accept help when offered, trusting us enough to hand over their babies to be rocked to sleep or fed while they participated in the projects and discussions with free hands.

I found myself wishing that I knew more Spanish and could converse with these women.  I would have loved to have learned more about their lives through their stories.  Working with these women made me realize again, how much we take for granted in our lives…Upon completion of the decoration of a votive candle holder, one mother proudly held up her finished project and stated that she would finally have some light in her home at night.

Although I could barely converse with the women, in the end, once again, all it took was a smile and an embrace and a few words of encouragement to these women to receive a grateful smile and hug in return.  I found myself looking forward to seeing these same women in the days that followed.  Every smile, every acceptance of an offer for help and every sweet baby held for one of the moms were encounters with Christ. 

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The rest of the week, these encounters came in continued succession:

The energy, enthusiasm, and selfless giving of self from the teens who came to work with the children and youth of TJ, and their undeniable love for the children were beautiful witnesses to the love of Christ working within them.   

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Working alongside long term veterans of the Tijuana Ministries programs and witnessing their enthusiasm for their years of involvement in the ministry, as well as hearing the stories of success and gratitude from past and present recipients of homes, made for many more encounters with Christ throughout the week.

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On Sunday afternoon, we paid a visit Casa del Migrante, a migrant shelter that connects people released from immigration detention with resources and helps them get back on their feet. The light of Christ was encountered in the director of this organization, Father Pat Murphy, as well as in the young men who either currently live and/or work at the Casa and shared their stories.

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Another day, we visited a local HIV/AIDS clinic that provides 24 hour care and spiritual direction to adults and children with HIV/AIDS and their families.  The level of love and care seen here as we walked through the intensive care room was undeniable.  Christ was deeply present in the volunteers at this facility.

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Finally, we had the honor of attending the blessings of two of the five houses built.  Words cannot express the pride and joy and gratitude that I saw on the faces of the families receiving the keys to their new homes. It was an honor to be able to be present at these house blessings and to see what was perhaps one of the happiest moments of these familiy’s lives. The impression of many people is that the residents of Tijuana are to be pitied and that groups like ours go in to try to “save them”.  But in truth, these people, with the little they have, are a people who have a joy for life, intelligence and a desire to seek a better life for themselves and their children.  They are a warm and welcoming people and are proud and dignified, strong in their faith, culture, and family values.  We go in not to save them, but to share with them, build relationships with them and to learn from them.  As Father Jon said, we go to encounter Christ in them. And the belief that I have long held, that those who have, are not necessarily any happier than those who have not, was reaffirmed in my mind.  In fact, it seems that, after spending a week with the beautiful, warm people of TJ, they are actually happier than most of the people we come in contact with in my day to day life in Silicon Valley.

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As tired as I was at the end of each day, I found it hard to sleep most nights in TJ, and even now, a week later, I close my eyes and my head is filled with visions of the rubble and trash strewn hillsides and streets, the streams of smoke scattered here and there from burning garbage, the gaunt dogs and the ramshackle shacks packed tightly together.  I can still hear the sounds of the night: loud music, dogs barking, babies crying, and loud conversations of people passionately enjoying life as they know it.  I can still smell the pungent, nostril burning smells of garbage burning and sewage baking in the hot sun and meals being prepared in tiny cramped homes.  However, I also hear the laughter of children and teens running and playing, and the giggles and cheery conversation of mothers sharing stories and spending time building community.

The days flew by, and I left with the all-encompassing feeling that we are just a tiny drop in a vast ocean when it comes to what can be done for the gentle people of Tijuana.  I find that I have so many questions to be answered and so many emotions to be settled.  I left wishing we could do so much for these people, yet I keep remembering the words of Mother Teresa:

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“We ourselves feel that what we are doing is just a drop in the ocean. But the ocean would be less because of that missing drop”.

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Without a doubt, I know that I have encountered Christ in the people of TJ, and I can only hope that they have encountered Christ in me. 

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I am already thinking about my next trip to La Morita, and I invite anyone who is even remotely thinking about being part of this ministry to make the journey sometime.  You won’t regret it, and your involvement, however large or small, is significant. On behalf of all of us who traveled this year, thank you for your prayers and support.  It all matters