Que Lastima Pero Adios*

Today is my last "for real" work day in Reynosa. Early tomorrow the teams leave. We'll have a few hours of work on Saturday, and then on Sunday we'll begin our drive down to Guanajuato for the summer staff trip.

There are moments, like yesterday morning, so difficult that I think August second couldn't come soon enough. I've avoided blogging about it, but disunity (for lack of a better word) among the summer staff has been a fairly constant trial, to varying degrees. It makes me especially eager to go home and be with my family again, see my new nephew, and meet some guy named Garrett. And, I'm not gonna hide it, I'll be ready for the comforts of better health, different food, clean water, tea-time, and the ability to get out and go for a walk in relative safety.

And then there are other moments when I don't want to think about leaving. My thoughts and feelings and inclinations are so scrambled that I can't form any complete, coherent, written thought. Today I've been hit with a bad case of "the lasts". I just set out the daily snack of chips, guacamole, and pico de gallo for the last time. Tonight will be the last share night. Perhaps tomorrow will be one of the last nights I spend in Casa Verde. Ever.

This afternoon I drove a couple coolers full of left over food to the shelter with Ashley. It struck me that it could quite possibly be the last time I drove in Mexico this year. That morning, the one washing machine for all laundry at Casa Verde broke, so I had driven piles and piles of dirty towels to a 'lavanderia'. Ashley and I stopped to pick them up and staggered out to the car with huge black trash bags. This was a bizarre experience. Ironically this was not to be my last drive. I come back from carefully backing the car into a spot in our tightly packed parking lot to have Amalia tell me I had left behind the soap. But of course.

I've just come back to this post from an evening with the team. Any thoughts I had before have scattered, but different ones are simmering. I'm desperately aware that I've failed at giving a complete picture of what's happening here in Reynosa - and in my confused mind - but I hesitate to write more lest it seem complete when it isn't.

It's going to be hard to leave this place.

*What a pity, but goodbye - this is a line from one of the staff's favorite songs of Julieta Venegas. It's fairly constantly stuck in my head.

Meet the Staff

(back) John and Kathy Clow, Nono Beale, Evan Clow, Brent, Charlie, Chelsie, Casey, Kate Beale, Erin Knobloch, Zach (front) Kaitlyn, Laura Lopez, Ana Lopez, Erwin Lopez, Josiah Clow, Rebekah Clow, Heidi, Rachel, Abigail Clow, Sara Lopez, Ashley, Kim Kaiser, Carol, Kelly Greene, Melissa.

Normalcy

Sometimes the tediousness of chores around the dorm gets to me - emptying the same trash cans, baking the same desserts, the endless stream of dirty cups.   It makes me lethargic.  But dragging my tired body to a work site is energizing.  Yesterday afternoon I dropped Ashley of at Kelly's land and drove to the shelter where the medical clinic was.  

On the way back I gave I ride to Kim and a couple other ladies, and we stopped to get Ashley at the site.  I was driving the little jeep trying to turn around in the bumpy dirt road.  Of course every time I stopped the engine quit, and I'd have to restart the car with my feet on the brake and accelerator, revving the engine at the same time.  Kim laughed from the back seat, "If your family could see you now!"  I only half laughed because what I was doing felt perfectly normal. Surely it would seem so to my family and friends too.  But then it struck me, as I was passing a donkey and cart on the road, that this isn't normalcy back home.  And you all who are reading this mostly haven't experienced it.  It's strange how what's normal changes.  And you hardly notice it happening.   

I'm afraid it'll be fairly obvious when I get home.  

Thoughtful Packing

Many times I think about how difficult this summer could be without the friendship of Ashley. I also think about how dreadful it would be if she hadn't brought this wonderful ipod port and speakers.  If any of you are already thinking about what to give me for Christmas. . .  :-)

I listen to lots of music while I wash dishes, take care of leftovers, and bake desserts.  Brent's ipod is an endless source of new music.  I've been introduced to Belle and Sebastian, Feist, Over the Rhine, Patty Griffin, and Wilco (and plenty more that slips my mind at the moment).  And I've enjoyed more music of artists that were at least slightly familiar including the Beatles; Bob Dylan; Coldplay; the Cranberries; Crosby, Stills, Nash, and Young; Emmylou Harris; Hem; Sufjan Stevens; and the Weepies.

A humorous anecdote - the other day I walked into the kitchen to find the volunteers washing the dishes to a string quartet of Vivaldi.  This struck me as odd, but since they'd chosen it, I wasn't going to change it.  The next day I realized they'd put my ipod on shuffle.  I bet that was disappointing.  

Then and Now

Yesterday evening, before the picnic at the new land, we visited the hospital site where I worked a bit last summer.  It's so exciting to see all that has happened.

This was last summer. . . 

. . . and this is the same place yesterday.  

This is the only picture I could find of the building from last summer. . . 

. . . but now you see it's completed and locked to keep drug dealers out.  

I mixed concrete in this room last summer . . . 

. . . and there are my initials to prove it.  

Here's the deaf school.   I don't have a "before" picture, but we were working on the upstairs classrooms last summer.

We really do work sometimes

By the end of a work week, I'm always exhausted - early mornings, late nights, strength-sapping heat, pressing responsibilities.  But strangely, our break weeks can seem more draining than when teams are here.  Now the volunteers are back, and I feel renewed. 

There are moments full of joy in working - moments when there's no place I'd rather be even if I'm just emptying trash cans in the volunteers' bathrooms.  Honestly this is how I always felt as a volunteer the past three summers.  But with the privilege of spending the whole summer here, comes the temptation to be distracted and frustrated.  It's easy to get annoyed when the volunteers leave the lights and fans on, flush toilet paper and clog the drains, don't clean the coolers. . .  I could go on, but the long list would be as senseless as my annoyance.  On Fridays the teams have "share night" when they're welcome to talk about things they've experienced and how they've seen God at work in their life that week.  I'm always convicted and humbled. . . and then tested again the next morning because those same volunteers that are so thankful to be here serving and worshipping God have left their dorm rooms a complete mess.  

This week the team is half medical and half construction.  Having so many doctors changes the team dynamic in interesting ways - for one thing, the food lines move slower because they all remember to disinfect their hands.  These thirty-odd doctors and medical students set up a clinic at the shelter for deportees and migrants.  From reading Enrique's Journey, I've been learning a fair bit about the terrible hardships that migrants go through attempting to reach the states - kidnapping, beatings, torture, theft, rape, injuries.  Part of me wanted to think - or at least hope - the author was sensationalizing the story, but really that is not the case.  The vast majority of the patients the doctors treated today had been held for ransom and tortured.  One had been beaten two times a day for 13 days, another was held hostage for two months with 210 others.  How difficult their life must be at home to consider the slim hope of a better life worth these trials!

Perhaps more later on the topic. 

On break again.

It rained incessantly last week.  We were on break again, which I suppose was good because it would have been miserable - or next to impossible - on the job site.  Reynosa isn't well equipped to deal with so much rain so the streets flooded the first day.  I'd never driven through such deep water before.  Casa Verde's courtyard and lobbies are open to the sky, so everything becomes soaked and very slippery.  It's really kind of gross.  

Ashley, dearest friend among the summer staff, and I stayed at Kim and Erin's place most of the week while the other three girls traveled to Monterrey.  It was a laid back week the highlights of which were watching the Wimbledon finals with Kim (!!!), crepes at a little coffee shop Ashley and I discovered, and a movie at the VIP theatre.  The theatre is amazing.  You pay the same amount you would in the states (which I admit is exorbitant), but you get to pick your seats which are leather with foot rests and waiters come offering you anything from sushi to popcorn (for a small fee. . .).  We watched Get Smart, only here it's called Super Agente 86 (in English with Spanish subtitles).  I really did enjoy it tremendously.  

The perk of the raininess was getting to wear my new bright green water proof jacket.  I was pretty excited.  

Excitement

I finally got around to a little updating of my cool, new vocab words.   I haven't been particularly consistent at writing down new words I come across, but I have added four.  I'm particularly excited about the first one.  I've known that word for a while, but not the definition which wasn't much fun.  (Thank you, Sarah Cobb!)

Not By Chance

In my mid-term prayer letter, I wrote that each week we see God's hand of protection and provision in new, remarkable ways. I want to share one such story.

Last year one of the sites we worked on was a shelter next to a hospital in Reynosa that is to be a sort of Ronald MacDonald house. Work sites only progress while teams from the states are in town, mostly in the spring and summer. At the beginning of the summer it had been about a month since teams had worked on the hospital site and a gang of drug dealers set up house there. They had broken in, stolen expensive copper piping among other supplies, and were sleeping and doing their dirty work there. John and others brought the situation to the attention of the government, but in spite of promises, it was many weeks before they acted on it. By last break week, it was finally safe to start preparing the site for the next team of volunteers. Several staffers spent an afternoon cleaning the room that the drug dealers, who had been living like animals, had used as their bathroom. The only work remaining before the shelter was ready for use was to put up windows and set in sinks, toilets, and beds.

Last work week most of the volunteers worked at Kelly's land and the new I55 land, but a small crew went to the hospital site on Wednesday and Thursday to get those jobs done. The hospital site is right across the street from a baptist church where we worked a bit last year. Volunteers were able to use their bathroom the first day, but for some reason it was locked on Thursday. God provided Ana, a kind Mexican girl who spoke English and opened up her house to the volunteers. Ana's friendship probably saved the life of one of the volunteers.

Early in the afternoon, the volunteers were hanging windows and a glass pane slipped and sliced open an artery in the the wrist of Caleb, a 14 year old volunteer. Blood spurted everywhere. Brent, the staffer leading that site, had just left to get supplies, taking the only vehicle and cell phone. Marcell, another volunteer, leaped into action applying a tourniquet and pressure, but the blood kept flowing. He ran to Ana to ask her to call an ambulance, but she knew that an ambulance would never get there soon enough to save Caleb's life. A car driving by saw all the blood and stopped to offer a ride to the hospital. Marcell and Caleb, both covered in blood, were driven to the hospital while the rest of the volunteers stayed at the site and prayed. Caleb's wrist was sewn up, but even after that blood soaked through the bandages when he stood up. Erin, a full time staffer who met Marcell and Caleb at the ER, took him to another hospital where he was treated again. The doctor treated him without charging and confirmed that Marcell had probably saved Caleb's life.

When Brent returned to the site and talked to Ana, he learned that she actually lives in Mision, TX. Her mother has cancer, and they came back to Reynosa for a doctor's appointment on Wednesday. They would be back in the states on Thursday, but the doctor had postponed the appointment a day. A lucky coincidence? I think not.

Break week

The summer staff is on break week now. The Beales have some friends in Texas with a beach house on South Padre Island. The Clows and Beales are out of town but the rest of us were planning on heading up on Sunday afternoon to spend a few days there. We ran into some troubles. Zach had asked me before how we were going to get into the beach house. I didn't know anything about that so I answered, "Oh, we'll figure it out." In retrospect, this was pretty dumb, but it did make our day a lot more interesting. Though we took a few cars, we all ended up at the house at the same time. A diligent search as the neighbors looked on revealed no hidden key.

Brent found a ladder and tried various doors and windows to no avail.

Zach and Brent both tried picking the locks. Zach looks like he'd make a good crook. Finally with the aid of both their knives and my own little Swiss Arm Knife (Grandpa and Gram, you'd be proud of me!) they opened one door only to find that it led to a mother-in-law suite that wasn't connected to the rest of the house! After more effort, they opened another door that led to an entry way and yet another locked door. It was too funny.

Casey and Ashley were sent to pick up the key at the Beale's place, 45 minutes away. Eventually we just waited around. Here are Kelly, Zach, and Fes (whom I like to call Fezzic after the giant in the Princess Bride.)

And Rachel. In the back, the Brent and Zach are still working at the door. While Casey and Ashley were on the road, the rest of us headed to a restaurant. Even before the food arrived, we got a call saying they had gotten a flat tire. Various people stopped to help, but the tire was finally changed by a drunk Mexican man with a dead baby hammerhead shark in the back of his truck. No joke. They got back to the beach house around 11:30, but we couldn't complain. A beach house is not a bad place to get locked out of. I enjoyed a long, pleasantly lonely walk on the beach, of course with Billy Joel's "This is the Time to Remember" stuck in my head. (it starts with a line about walking on the beach.) And surprisingly the seriously softened ice cream has seemed to have suffered no ill effects. Life is good.

An assortment of pictures

Sometimes people ask me what I miss while I'm in Reynosa.  Besides family and friends and tea time, I always say animals.  Air conditioning and warm water would be nice too, but I don't go into withdrawal.  I love food shopping days because I always stop at the Beale's, and they have three lovely Australian Cattle Dogs and one lab, as well as an assortment of horses and fowl.  

Anna Grace was a short-term, four week intern.  We miss her. 

These are the five summer intern girls - Chelsea, Ashley, Casey, Rachel and me.  Casey saw the Oscar Meyer weinermobile (one of the 6 in the US!) on our drive to South Padre Island, and we had to backtrack and get our picture taken with it.  

Chelsea and Ashley

The beach house has a fireman's pole from the second story down to the first.  One of the highlights of the first night was watching Ashley work up the courage to slide down and then hearing her cheerful call from the bottom, "Oh, it's not that bad y'all!"