Bridges and Walls

Today was our second border crossing into Tijuana, so we got up early and headed to the center. As always, we were greeted by a delicious breakfast of egg scrambles, fluffy bread, pound cake, and the ever appreciated coffee. After a brief morning devotion, where we sang "Circle Round" and expressed our gratitudes for the day, twenty of us piled into the Mexicoach and headed for the border. Before crossing, we went to a shopping center called "Mall of the Americas" that runs flush with the border fence and boasts stores like Neiman Marcus, Sketchers, and Gap. The sprawling no-man's-land between walls lies literally feet away from such an affluent site, and after that, the poverty-stricken Tijuana. We crossed the border, and his time across, we saw some heavily armed Mexican Marine equivalents searching some furniture laden trucks. Our first stop in Tijuana was at a strip of border fence on which activist groups have hung crosses with the names of those who have died trying to cross in the San Diego region. Over 4500 have fallen victim to heat, rattlesnakes, scorpions, and thirst. Then we went to Chilpancingo, a neighborhood in Tijuana where over 12,000 families live in homes built with discarded crates, cinderblocks, fencing, and garage doors. They are a community of squatters, unrecognized by the local municipality and with no access to sewer systems, regular electricity, or other basic services. Their water is polluted by factories on the hill, and we crossed a bridge over a river that runs green and foamy. Most of the people there work at the Maquilas (factories), and are paid less then 60 dollars a week. We met a few of the people living there, and gave out some friendship bracelets we had made together the night before. I think we left with mixed feelings; we are navigating between being intruders, ambassadors, tourists, and activists, and it is uncomfortable. Uncomfortable, but productive and transformative.

We also visited the "Casa de los Pobres," a center run by Franciscan nuns that provides meals, health care, and social services for people in need. We were given a tour by one of the nuns, who explained all the things they do with little or no money and resources. It reminded me of the true meaning of the loaves and fishes story: Faith can make something out of nothing. Our final stop in Tijuana was at the beach, where the border fence runs straight into the Pacific Ocean. I was torn between the devastating symbol of the fence and the natural feel of the environment. On one hand, we were encountering steel that cuts through both the beauty of the landscape and the human rights of our brothers and sisters in Tijuana, but on the other hand, I was on a beach eating ice cream with friends. It was a poignant end to my day's experience. I was overwhelmed both by the frustration of this impossible situation, and the support of the community that our group has created. We touched the fence. We danced on the beach to distant music from the hills. We laughed--something we've been able to do even in the face of this devastating situtation.

Now we're back at the church after a couple games of volleyball, a delicious dinner out, rousing games of Guesstures and Mafia, and double fudge brownies with ice cream. We have a final day of reflection and discussion tomorrow, and then we'll be back on the road up north Thursday. Till then!
-Tinley