Larry Cargnoni 2013
 

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This was my 4th journey to Tijuana. I traveled 2008, 2009, 2010. So it’s been three years since my last visit. In summary, it was a good trip. The team met many of the physical build objectives and pulled of wonderful mothers and children’s program. Relationship were built, reviewed, and cultivated both between us and the people of Tijuana, but between team members. We worshipped, worked, and celebrated with the locals, side by-side. Overall, from my perspective and pay grade, the trip was a success.

During trip and since returning, I spent time pondering and processing the plight of the kids and families we encountered. I have more observations than answers.

We went to mass on Sunday. I sat in the back, as I’ve learned to do, where there is better air circulation and the view of the locals is better. In front of me, I watched several teen-aged moms cradle newborns. I swear they looked between 15-17 years of age. I have a 14.5 year old daughter and my “dad radar” is tuned to other girls around her age.

I’m not walking in those teen-moms’ shoes, but I’m fairly certain that at least 1-2 of those young moms had a look of despair, worry, and angst in their faces and eyes. Almost, like “what the hell is going on? Is this my life? I don’t want to be doing this.”

And then to the side of me, I watched 3-5 year old kids run around the pews, greeting friends, pestering their older siblings, giggling, getting “shushed” by their parents and generally having a good time. I was struck by the two scenes: one of happy, not a care in the world group of kids, (probably) not aware of their environment and the other one exuding uncertainty, (possible) hopelessness, and fully aware of their situation and probably thinking “it gets no better than this”.

I mulled over a lot of questions…Some of the answers may be obvious, but I mulled them regardless . When do these kids internalize that they are not as well of as others in their neighborhood, which they are different from others further down the hill, perhaps in down town Tijuana, or as say in the US? What do their parents tell them? When do these kids realize that they perhaps don’t or won’t have a future other than that of their parents and family? What goes through their heads when they realize that what they have could be the best that they’ll get? Who are their role models? Who is
helping them? Do they have hopes and dreams? Who is cultivating those dreams and helping them become real? My wife and I are lucky enough that we can provide our kids choices and show them opportunities. I want to think that my kid’s dreams have a shot of becoming reality.

I worked on the construction of the roof structures and a house. The house is a small 16x32 rectangle home with a peaked roof, locking doors, windows, drywall, insulation, electric, and a shower and a toilet. If you didn’t know better, from the inside, you might be looking at any apartment in San Jose. It will house a family of 5; their mom is recovering from brain cancer and uses a wheel chair and walker. This home was a prototypical home that the Tijuana Ministry typically built.

It turns out however, that among the poor, there are poorer people still. There were two families, living next to each other, that had built their homes on public land, in this case part of a dirt road that the city of Tijuana has yet to develop. To call their accommodations “homes” or “houses” is a gross understatement. One was barely a shack which housed a family of 6 and the other was more of small shed/barn that housed a family of 8. Both were under furnished, had no running water, and
bootlegged electricity. Both roofs were rotted and covered with a variety of tarps and wood; clearly these would leak in during any significant rainfall.

I see two mattresses…filthy, ragged, and smelling like urine. I see one small table and a broken chair. Where are the clothes? There is water in barrels, open-topped with stuff floating it. Left-over food was in a skillet. I don’t see a lot of toys. How in the world do they do it? I wondered. Where do the kids sleep and eat? What’s going through the parents’ minds? What dreams and futures can come from these places? Do the kids go to school? Will they? I know education opportunities in that neighborhood is not a given like it is here in the US. Whatever problems I carried into Tijuana were
rapidly being put into perspective.

[For these families, we build roof structures over each of these houses. Think “car port” basically we built a 16x32 foot, slightly pitched roof, supported by 6 pillars. We went this route, instead of building full on houses, because the families were squatting on the land - and they didn’t have the funds to purchase their own lot. We build the structures, mainly with screws thinking that they could move the structures (with some help) if they were forced to leave. We then bolted on to each, 4 16x8 wooden
garage doors to as to provide some stability to the structure and enclosure for the families. They have enough supplies to complete the enclosure. We also cut in lockable doors and a few windows.

During the week, the construction crew built relationships with the kids and family. We often fed lunch to 20-25 kids during the week. We kept the moms and dads apprised of what we were doing and often asked their approval or agreement before painting, putting up walls, moving furniture, or working inside their homes.]

I also discovered that neighbors in Tijuana can be harsh and vindictive too. Adjacent to one of the roof structures, there was a piece of property and on it were shade tree and a chair that kids and moms (for whom we were building) would sit and play. We saw them on Monday. On Tuesday, it seems that the property owner was annoyed that we were there. The owner decided that they needed to clear their property and proceeded put up a barbed wire fence around it and toss the chair and other debris off the property and into the street, in front of one of the roof shelter build sites. I watched the
moms and kids staring both at the mess and the now-off-limits tree…and I could see hurt and sadness in their eyes. Another boot kicking them down.

It strikes me that we in the US have the same type of issues: teen-aged moms, families with no hope, and kids not necessarily having a future. Don’t we have kids with no role models? Don’t we have vindictive neighbors, exclusive, gated communities? Don’t we have families living in substandard conditions: living in cars, tents, and makeshift shelters? It seems that we share a cruel parallel existence from that perspective. For my family and me, I know that 1-2 unexpected events in our lives could put us on undesired path. I count my blessings that we able to make some choices for our and our kids’ futures.

During the trip we talked about the fact that none of us chose where we are born. Any one of us could have been born into those situations. In fact, I learned that some of us had been born in that environment and managed to get out. It’s only by the grace of God that I was born into my family and that I had opportunity to grow and prosper.

I know I can’t solve all of San Jose’s and Tijuana’s problems. But this trip reinforced that I do need to act locally, with compassion, and to share my talents, time and resources with others. I’ve come back with a bit more conviction to help with of the more vulnerable here in our neighborhood.

[Prior to leaving, I was not in a good place spiritually. My attitude was pretty bad. I carried pressures and worries of work and family. A series of events had me (still have) questioning my purpose, value, and direction. Saint Teresa tells us to trust God that we are exactly where we are meant to be…I have a very hard time with that.

I’ve not left my “bad place”, but I feel that I’m on the way back. There’s nothing like a week-long immersion to Tijuana to put my life and blessings into perspective.]