Three days after I returned home from Kenyon this summer, I was jam-packed into a van with members of my church as well as a neighboring church, and we were driven eight or so hours to San Diego and then across the Mexican border into Tijuana. We had spent all year raising money from our home parishes to come and be a part of Project Mexico, an organization run by St. Innocent Orphanage in Rosarito, Mexico.Over the course of a week, we were to lay the foundation, build a skeleton, plaster, and paint a home for a family of four. This process continued over the course of the summer and into the fall for new groups of volunteers and families each week. The family we built for (and every family involved in the program) owned their property and had passed an interview process to ensure they had a healthy family dynamic. Upon crossing the border, there was an immediate difference between Northern Baja California and San Diego. It was a shanty town, something I had laughably only conceived of being a post-apocalyptic movie living situation. Here in Tijuana, you were considered well off if your home had a door. Once we arrived at the orphanage, we were instructed to set up our tents in a large space, cleared just for this purpose, and we were separated, boys and girls. Each night was almost the same; we would eat beans and rice (which I personally loved), attend a short church service, and break off into social groups, usually to sit around a fire and sing together (ask me how much I never want to hear “Down By the Bay” ever again). The first day of building went smoothly. We met the family and began work arranging their property to make it the proper size to lay the foundation and fit their home. This consisted of hours of hauling buckets full of dirt and rocks followed by mixing and pouring our own cement. All the while, their new neighbors were coming out to watch the work and allowing their children to come play and blow bubbles with us. The family next door allowed us to use their kitchen to make sandwiches and to use their bathroom, which actually had running water and even a television in their living room. This, however, was not even close to the norm for the rest of the immediate community. The family we built for, for example, had water delivered to them from a truck and their bathroom, which was a work in progress, was no more than a hole in the ground. After every work day, we would stop and get food at local family-owned shops. The exchange rate of USD to Pesos is about 1:18 so we were able to get amazing, generously-sized food items for less than a meal at McDonald’s. This really brought to light just how much help Mexican immigrants are giving to their families back in Mexico. I brought 50 USD on the trip, and that amount in pesos (about 900 USD) probably would’ve been able to feed a family of four for at least a month.
The second day we ran into a bit of trouble. It all began with our truck breaking down on the way to the work site. It wasn’t a big deal—we called back to the orphanage for help and we were back on our way. About halfway through the day, we ran out of supplies, so a few of our workers drove to the local hardware store only to return to a van that had been broken into. When we received the call that our belongings had been stolen, my only thought was how much money I had spent getting my iPhone screen repaired. Of course, this was a ridiculously materialistic thought, but my entire life was on that phone! I had Snapchat streaks to keep up! I was close to tears and very embarrassed about it. As it turns out, the only things stolen were from the front seat, which didn’t include my expensive belongings but did include others’ priceless objects like phones, photos, purses, a wedding ring, and the passports of everyone in the van. Of course, some things can’t be replaced, but we were all reimbursed for items we lost, which is just more proof of how privileged we are without even realizing it. That ended up being the most productive day of work we had. The rest of the week went on without a hitch (aside from everyone getting blindsided by a particularly spicy salsa with breakfast). We had done it. Thirty or so people with little to no construction experience had made a house that was able to withstand the elements. It was probably only a little bigger than my dorm room. It wasn’t plastered on the inside, and it only had one door and two windows, but the level of gratitude expressed by the family was immeasurable. With the little money they had, they cooked us all elotes on a fire pit outside their new home. They invited their whole family for the blessing of their home and there were smiles and tearful speeches all around.
It’s hard not to feel bad for people in desolate situations and to feel guilty for the privilege that you’re born into. We are brought up to expect certain luxuries, such as running water, electricity, iPhones or fast food as if they’re necessities. While I won’t be giving up wifi anytime soon, I have learned that the bonds formed with your family and community are so much more important than any material item and with any luck, hopefully, I’ll be back in Mexico next year, learning and receiving more from these families than I could ever hope to give them. Donate to Project Mexico and St. Innocent Orphanage here to keep this amazing organization running!
Image Credit: Project Mexico, S. Slaughter