No More March Madness, Now It's The Real Thing (a.k.a. Day Three)

It’s now the morning of Day Three.  I slept well and having a blanket made a world of difference.  

Again I’m one of the first ones up.  Again, there are no showers here but the men’s room at least is roomy and has a good-sized sink area.  I shave, as I don’t know when I’ll get the chance to do so again, and also wet down my hair in an attempt to make it presentable.  It still looks just a little more rough then yesterday.  

Then it’s time for coffee.  This church has a dedicated coffee bar area featuring three K-Cup brewers and plenty of varieties.  In scoping out this area last night one of the women in our group said “Wonder why we don’t have something like this at our church?”  

Good question.  

Since I had no chance to mess up the java by making it extra-strong this morning everyone enjoyed their wake-up hot bean juice.  And yes I threw a few dollars into the kitty.  

Another simple breakfast today.  We all go about our tasks quietly.  I think some are a bit nervous, as am I, since today we cross into Mexico and begin our entire reason for the journey.  

Our Casas Por Cristo missionary arrives about 7:30.  We do introductions and exchange the obligatory greetings and handshakes with Jason.  

Same routine as yesterday morning, pack the trailer and we’re out of here.  As we caravan toward the international bridge I’m getting more apprehensive by the moment.  

But about what?  I’m with a group of folks and we all have the same purpose.  Our leaders have been to Mexico on these house-construction projects over 30 different times.  We are with a well-trained missionary and for the next three days we are his sole responsibility.  Also in our group are a few students who did this exact same thing last year and many couldn’t wait for the opportunity to do so again.  

Looking back now, I think leaving my comfort zone was the largest cause of my anxiety.  Obviously anything involving the unknown is difficult for most people and I’m no exception.  Going into another country with a very different culture and different language is a bit daunting as well.  

While waiting at the toll booth I choose to direct my thoughts elsewhere.  I haven’t been through Del Rio in a vehicle since 1979.  Needless to say I don’t see or remember anything familiar.  My last jaunt through this city was in 1997, on a train.  This was a Christmastime trip from Tucson to San Antonio by way of Amtrak.  

I also think about the history of this place, one you won’t read about in high-school textbooks.  No, I’m referring to the border radio stations that existed from the 1930’s through the early 1980’s.  Around 1988 or so I bought a book titled (not surprisingly) Border Radio, published by Texas Monthly Press.  (And guess what?  It's still available.)  Del Rio and Ciudad Acuna played a major role.  Starting with Dr. Brinkley in the 1930’s and going through the Wolfman Jack era of the early ’60’s, I look out the window and wonder what it was like for the residents of that day to see the high-powered broadcast towers and the glow they must have given at night.  

Since this is a church-sponsored missions trip I left behind my radio and Macbook Air (with the ever-useful DTV stick).  I didn’t miss them except for last night.  How I would like to listen to the XERF of today and realize I’m hearing a station on the same frequency that was such a legend before I ever came into existence.  

But before I know it we’re over the Rio Grande and going through the checkpoint in Acuna.  The official is kind and doesn’t make us wait very long.  Then my iPhone starts dinging with text messages.  “Welcome to Mexico.  Here are details on the Verizon Wireless international plan.  Blah blah blah.”  I’ll worry about this later. 

We go to the warehouse in which Casas Por Cristo keeps their construction equipment.  The high schoolers and us adults form a bucket brigade and in just a few minutes we have Jason’s truck loaded with everything from power saws to stucco-mixing equipment to numerous hand tools.  

Then it’s over to the church where we will spend the next three nights.  Unload all the luggage and food, make sure we have our tools, hats, and other items.  Take one last bathroom break and we’re on our way to the job site.  

I’ve been into Mexico a few times.  Matamoros in 1976, Juarez in 1986-87-88, Las Palomas in 1992, Nogales in 1996, a cruise to the Mexican Riviera in 1997 (Puerto Vallarta and Mazatlan) and Puerto Penasco (“Rocky Point” to Arizonans) in 2006.  Yet today it’s different for obvious reasons.  While Acuna is on the border this isn’t a day-trip border town shopping excursion.  The up-side?  All of us get a chance to experience true Mexican culture.  Despite my feelings indicated earlier I’m eager to get exposure to everyone and everything we will encounter.  Besides, now that we’re here the excitement begins to kick in for yours truly.  

We meet the family for whom we are building:  Juan, Emma and their progeny.  

Then it’s time to get to work!  Folks are divided into two groups:  the cut crew and the concrete crew.  (How’s that for alliteration?)  Geoana and I both wind up on the cut crew and that’s fine with us.  We set about cutting the 2x4s for framing while the concrete gang gets the site ready for, well, concrete.  The cement truck shows up on schedule and the forms are in place!  

As the day moves along the concrete pad is complete and the framework comes together well.  I, together with many others, swing a hammer hundreds of times and sometimes even drive a nail in straight on the first try!  

We’re done for the day.  Head to Oxxo (Mexico’s version of 7-11) and splurge on junk food.  To my delight they also sell Coca-Cola in glass bottles.  The kind made with cane sugar.  The good stuff.  Head back to the church and again form a bucket brigade as we need to unload EVERYTHING and store it indoors.  Sigh.  

Supper, then everyone takes turns using the showers.  No real water pressure here and trying to mix the hot and cold faucets into a tolerable stream of water takes longer than it should.  Just make your choice.  In the words of the teenagers:  either it’s lava hot or Antarctic cold.  

Builds character!  For me it’s light-years different than staying in the luxury condo in Puerto Penasco!!  Once everyone is somewhat clean then it’s time for devotions and then lights-out.  

What does tomorrow hold?  I think I’ll just worry about that tomorrow.