San Quintin, Mexico
So… updating about Mexico. We went to San Quintin, which is about four hours south of the border in one car, but we had seven, so it was more like six hours south of the border. Which means it was about ten hours on the way back, or twelve for the Silver Bullet. Yes, we do name our cars. On the way down, we had to pass through Ensenada, and for a while drove on the same road we used to take to the construction site last year and the year before. The first year, we noticed that on a WaldoMart building, there was a dead bird between the L and the D. Guess what? It’s still there.
Some things got kind of frustrating throughout the week, most of it relating to being a girl in their culture. Ankle-length skirts weren’t too bad, they’re fun anyway. It was really frustrating being able to leave the base or the church property. We couldn’t, even as a group, unless there was at least one guy with us, since Mexican guys tend to see American girls as an opportunity to get into the States. A group of girls is just many opportunities. It wasn’t hard to follow, we didn’t have to leave the church or base very often, but it was just frustrating having to find a guy that wasn’t doing anything and was willing to go if you wanted to go to the market about two houses down the road. The words “I’ll buy you a soda” usually made it a bit easier. It was pretty cheap, too, it cost me about 12 pesos (about $1.20) to get a soda and bag of chips. Though that is kind of a reflection on how bad their economy is.
It was definitely weird having actual beds and dorms and such. A couple of freshman really bugged me, they kept griping about how dirty it was. Heck, it’s Mexico, what did you THINK it was going to be? (I think some of them were expecting it to be just like Forest Home…). It was nice to have toilets, though it was also a bit frustrating trying to remember not to put toilet paper in the toilet, as it ruins their septic system. Jocy, Grace, and Gillian were kidding about that in the cabin one night, as Gillian put it, “it’s toilet paper, not… [long pause]… trash can butt-wipers!” She cracks me up.
Sunday, we had morning chapel and culture orientation. After lunch, we had a VBS with the kids, ate dinner at the church, then attended an evening service. I was next to an older woman, holding a girl that was barely two. This kid did not stop staring at me through the whole service. It was kind of weird, so I started making goofy faces at her until she fell asleep. If I did that here, I’d be getting some strange looks from parents. As it was, the (I think) grandma thanked me, from what I could understand, it sounded like the girl isn’t usually that quiet during the service :-P. During the VBS, one little girl that looked like she’d just learned to walk stole Major’s flashlight, and walked around shining it in people’s faces to see people’s reactions. Of course, we all pretended it was blinding, even though her aim wasn’t very good and it was still light out, so it was very dim.
For the rest of the week, we had breakfast, clean up time, chapel, then were at the church by nine. We were at Iglesia La Puerta Abierta, which means Church of the Open Door. And they lived like it, too, they were extremely welcoming. If they didn’t know our name, we were either “hermano” or “hermana”. When we got there, fifteen people went on house visits to talk to the people and pray for them and such. The rest got split up into construction jobs. Monday, Gillian & I ended up gardening for the pastor’s wife, since their house was actually on church grounds. It was a small garden, but so overrun with weeds that it took us three days to clear it. I was really glad Dick Payne bought us gardening gloves the second day, we were starting to get blisters. As it was, I still pulled something in my hand, it still kind of hurts to move my thumb. Some communication with the gardening was interesting. At one point, Mrs. Crandall pulled out the onions they were growing, not knowing what they were. She went with Major to buy them new plants to make up for that… and the other amusing mistake. There was a large area of nearly waist-high grass next to the garden that we started to clear so that it wouldn’t take over as soon as we left. The first day we started on that, also the second day of gardening, the pastor’s wife said that we didn’t have to because it was hard on our hands. Ross, Jeff, and Scott were helping me at that point, and they joked with her about how strong they were, so she let them. Later, Major mistranslated something that she said, and thought that they actually wanted the grass, that they were planning to cut it and make a lawn area. Cut it with what, we have no idea. That’s when they went to get them extra plants. The next day, we found out they actually did want the grass gone. That was amusing. But we got the grass out :-P
A couple of women set up a small mini-mart area, I guess you could call it, by one of the trees for us. Good for us, good for them. We got to do all the shopping we normally would have done at La Bufadora, since we didn’t have time to stop there this year, and they got lots of business that they normally wouldn’t get, not being a border town. The kids seem to multiply every day. We started with about seventy, but by Thursday, we had about two hundred. Made crafts interesting, I’ll tell ya that. Some of the boys became serious brats by the first couple days. They never listened when we told them not to do something, that the moms had said no, etc. A couple of them were running around trying to beg off money or gifts from us. At the end of Tuesday, Kim was eating a granola bar while waiting for our ride to get back (since by that time, the Green Machine had broken down and Major was off delivering kids in Simon Says…), one boy walked up to her, said “soy pobre (I’m poor)” and held out his hand. It got pretty ridiculous. A few of us gave up on playing with the boys, just let them fight for papuches and swings, as long as they didn’t get into an actual physical fight or anything.
Thursday, I went on house visits. It’s shocking to see how some of these people live. There were houses made of chicken wire and sheets, with scrap tin for the roof. Some were, literally, cardboard and staples. One family that came to the VBS had six kids, and lived in a one-room house about the size of my bedroom. Another lady we visited asked for prayer for her and her friend Carla. She also lived in a one-room house (though it was about twice the size of the other family’s). She was taking care of one or two of Carla’s children, because Carla’s husband has several brain tumors, and she just had a baby. So they’re having a bit of a rough time. Whenever a family we visited asked for prayer, we all laid hands on whoever it was for and prayed aloud, all at the same time, in whichever language we chose. It made most of them cry to have people praying for them in a language they couldn’t understand. Thursday was also the last day we visited the church. Two that Laura bonded with gave her drawings with verses and messages that she asked me to help translate. One of them got help to write, in English, “I love you very much for heaven’s sake” on the paper. They also gave her Psalm 143:8, which we found easier to look up than try to translate.
“Let the morning bring me word of your unfailing love,
For I have put my trust in you
Show me the way that I should go,
For to you I entrust my life”
That’s the only time I’ve ever seen Laura cry.
Friday was really long. Gitch wanted to hit the road by 7:30, and I think we did. Melissa got carsick on the road between San Quintin and Ensenada, so that gave us about a half an hour of waiting by the side of the road, since none of us really wanted her to puke in the car. When we hit Ensenada, we stopped at the Ley Market we used to stop by daily the last two years. The tortillas are still amazing. I bought Mel carsickness pills, as we still had a few hours of windy roads to go before the border, but I practically had to shove them down her throat, she kept insisting that she felt fine. But she took ‘em, so there weren’t any problems with that. On the trips back before, the Federales have stopped cars from our caravan and taken all the money they found in people’s bags, but since we were a van full of fifteen girls, we all just kept our money in easy reach so we could shove it in our bras if we got stopped. Fortunately, we didn’t. Though on the road to get to the border crossing, Mrs. Crandall made a wrong turn in Tijuana, and to keep her from getting too lost, Major followed her. So that was fun. Outside one store, there was a donkey or a mule or something that someone had painted to look like a zebra. We still can’t figure that one out.
Border crossing was actually light this year. It took us only about an hour in line, then we were lucky, the guy didn’t insist on seeing everyone’s proof of citizenship. The Red Dragon and Silver Bullet weren’t that lucky. The Federales rerouted them to the Otai Mesa crossing. They accidentally got in the annual pass lane. The Red Dragon got a patrol guy that was nice and let them through. The Silver Bullet didn’t, and got sent to the back of the line, so they had an extra two hours of travel. Poor them.
I guess that about covers it. Given that I’m typing this in Word, and it’s already three pages long, I think that’d BETTER cover it :D.
Pictures to come later.