Week 21 - Crossing Borders
On the road, people we encounter tend to ask the same common questions. We are doing something different than the typical profession for most at our age so, in an amusing way, people explore their curiosities in the same manner. We’ve got a lot of our answers down by now: our origin story, where we usually park to sleep, how we shower/use the restroom, who we help. But one question requires us to change our answer as this experience continues and are exposed to different opportunities. What project has been your favorite? For myself, my answer changed this past week, and I am thrilled to tell you the adventure we went on in the purpose of service.
Some routine maintence was needed on the bus this week, as we got to our 10,000 mile mark on the trip!
I am grateful for the connections we had before the bus and those we have acquired along the way. Finally making it to Southern California, we tapped into friends back in Charleston who have roots there (Gabby Allen and Rachel Dawson). They both recommended their well-connected friend, Rylee Owens. She jumped straight into telling us about a refugee camp at a church (Templo Embajadores De Jesus) in Tijuana that her church supports. Through Light Church, there is a couple that spearheads the efforts, Sarah and Anson Overbey, and they were thrilled to get us involved. Their request, however, made me chuckle. They needed a chicken coop at the camp; a novelty build that we are growing accustomed to. In this case, a new chicken coop was a necessity because of the sheer number of people who reside there. 1,700 refugees are currently housed inside this old church equivalent to the size of a high school gym. Coming from all over Central America and the Gulf Islands. Stories were told of groups traveling 2,000 miles by foot just to reach Tijuana. Here they wait to be titled as asylum seekers in the States for legal passage, a requirement for staying at the camp – no crossing to the US illegally. The Pastor (Pastor Gustavo) who runs the camp has two goals; to give these people a safe space off the streets of Tijuana, and to share the good news of Christ with them. In his words, “I cannot tell them about Christ if they are hungry”. The camp is seeking self-sufficiency, with a goal of having enough space for 150 plus chickens. They tasked us with building the first coop to house 30 chickens, so then they can replicate it over again to eventually meet their needs. This coop was going to be a step up from our last one back in Tucson, at 120 square feet.
Starting to game plan, we had concerns crossing the border with the bus. Customs checks your bags extensively and we didn’t want to go through the hassle of them looking through our entire house. Luckily, Sarah and Anson agreed to drive us across the border in their van with all our tools and some last-minute supplies for the build. Once we arrived in Tijuana, perspective was served with a heavy hand, infrastructure plummets, which was especially evident because of the heavy rainfall that day. Driving seven miles from the border, there were slums of people living across the vast valley communities. The plan was to drive as close as we could to the camp, but as we turned off pavement onto a dirt road to travel up a valley, that optimistic plan hit a heavy halt. The “road” to travel was a river, full of trash, dead pigs, and rank smelling water. Determined to reach the camp, we took by foot, crossing over rickety foot bridges thrown together over the water, all while carrying the corrugated roofing we needed for our build over our heads. We only made it 300 yards up the road before we met an impassable crossing with Pastor Gustavo on the other side, waving his hands and saying “No way it’s happening today”. We didn’t want to leave this project unaccomplished, though, so we brainstormed. The camp sat in a valley, so we decided to attack it from the top of the ridge rather than trying to shoot up from the bottom.
Trekking back down the river road, we encountered a woman standing there with several backpacks and her daughter. She needed to get to the camp, too. Luckily, Anson speaks Spanish, so he communicated with her and she joined us. Driving around to the top of the ridge, we attempted to make it to the property again. This time, down a steep incline carrying all our tools and this woman’s belongings. Able to make it down, Pastor Gustavo met us, elated, at the back of his property with open arms for his new refugee. He said, “Bienvenido mi hija” (“Welcome my daughter”). This was a moment of visible relief. Finally after all her efforts, she would be safe with her daughter at this camp. Pastor Gustavo shares these aren’t just people, but they are his sons and daughters that he will look after. Sarah and Anson shared the idea that Pastor Gustavo is the equivalent to Mother Theresa in Tijuana. Not too far of a reach. He has laid out everything to create safety for these asylum seekers, laying aside his life to only care for others. And he has risked his own safety. The cartel has attempted to kill Pastor Gustavo several times because of his efforts to mend the corruption of his city.
Full van
Walking down in the Camp
Finally, having ourselves collected, we started to lay out our build for the coop. As we were setting up, several guys around our age started to approach us. Unfortunately, because of the language barrier we were only capable of welcoming them. As we continued, Pastor Gustavo and Anson translated for us that they wanted to work. They live here for free and they feel they need to do something to make that right. We proceeded to draw our layout on a piece of paper and started them framing out the walls. Using only hand gestures and simple Spanish, we were able to communicate most instruction to them, only needing translating on the more complex explanations. This jobsite, despite the circumstances, was joyful - laughing over random miscues in our language barriers. We worked as much as we could in-between spells of rain throughout the day with these guys. They were ecstatic to see the walls go up and took notes as they will eventually be responsible for replicating it to scale their chicken population. We put in the fullest day we could all together, our friends worked hard and jumped at any opportunity to learn something new. So, we taught them the best we could.
Around dinner time, others from the camp started to make their way up the hill carrying massive pots full of rice, beans, green chili, and chicken. They set them inside of car tires like place holders and started to serve everyone food. Taking the hint to take a break, we joined them. Filling up my bowl, I asked for a utensil, and they laughed and responded “pollo”, meaning chicken. So, I took that as the hint to use the chicken leg I had as a sort of spoon. As I proceeded awkwardly, they were entertained by my fumbling. I still wasn’t sure if I was doing it right but I rolled with it.
Family dinner, tire style.
We worked all the way until the sun went down, packed up our belongings and said our best goodbyes to our new friends who had built with us. As we started our hike back out of Valley, I couldn’t help but reflect on my privilege. Although I sleep on a school bus, my living quarters are worlds better than the circumstances I was leaving behind. The weight of spending our day there has been heavy on us since. We didn’t ask for the scenarios we were born into, but in our circumstance, I am grateful to be able to use our position to help theirs.
This story was only a glimpse of our week but I’ll savor the rest of it with pictures. We all agree this opportunity had an enormous impact on us, so I wanted to describe it to you, our valued readers, in detail.
We were hosted for dinner by Stewart and his family, which included this plump pig.
We helped Ed around his ministry house on Coronado.
California roller coaster ride
Kelly, a friend from Encinitas, helping us stock the bus.
The bus continues to roll up the California Coast, waiting on the spring to warm weather. We all had to leave the bus in Orange County this weekend to travel to some weddings separated (Cain and I/ Josh). Thrilled to be reunited again, I write this to you from Denver, CO in a stinky Starbucks drinking decaf (just for the visual).
Lastly, our good friends, Stan and Julia got married this past weekend. While at their wedding, a great friend, Cole Hartley, asked me what lessons I’m learning from this experience and offered me time to think about it. The more we experience, the more difficult it is to process it all, it’s difficult to bottle it up all up. With thought though, my posture is being formed more than anything, it’s not about me. Like Josh had referenced in a past blog, we’ve read The Freedom of Self-Forgetfulness by Timothy Keller. The heaviness that is gathered through busy life, work, stressors, you name it, can seem unavoidable. When serving, that weight becomes a back seat. How can you possibly be caught up in your anxieties when trying to think about another’s? There is a ton of people in need in this world, and a ton of people that have more than they need. At the wedding, many said “that is so great that YOU do that” which I always would rebut with “although we’re accomplishing service across different places at times, I wish I could just stay at one.” Being the consistency in a neighborhood is what brings long term change. So, I respond, “you can do it too, maybe in a way that would be better than me”. Leaving on the bus, we set goals. One being wanting to let our story motivate others to be involved in helping their own communities by seeing us serve as we travel. The story I wrote is extravagant, I know. We had to cross a border to meet the circumstances. But there are many borders in our communities inside the United States that aren’t crossed to reach people in need. Explore places in need within reach of your normally daily commute, what would it look like if one day a week you made a pit stop on your way home from work to make a difference in someone else’s life? If you ever wanted ideas, we’ve seen plenty and would even love to brainstorm different opportunities. As well, if ever you felt motivated by us to get out to seek service, please let us know. That kind of thing encourages us like you wouldn’t believe.
