In as much as: Serving 'the least of these' in Mexico

What does a cement block and 20 people have in common? Both were committed to providing basic shelter to a family in desperate need. On a recent mission trip to Mexico I met with 20 people from Indiana and Virginia, current or former members of the Southport Presbyterian Church just outside Indianapolis. Yearly, they travel to Reynosa, Mexico and build a basic block house for a family selected by Faith Ministry in McAllen, Texas, just across the border.

After taking the ‘redeye’ from SeaTac to Houston and then to McAllen I met with 20 people I had never seen before. We loaded onto a couple of older vans provided by the mission. A quick stop at the McAllen Walmart provided an opportunity to pick up last minute items to bring across the US/Mexican border. A half hour after crossing the border I knew I wasn’t in ‘Kansas’ anymore.

Reynosa is a large, very spread out city. Multiple foreign companies have manufacturing plants in Reynosa, however the area I was going to saw no benefit to these companies. The city is made up of many neighborhoods called ‘colonias.’ The mission and a medical clinic provided by Faith Ministry was located in Satelite’ Colonia. Dirt streets and many areas of the colonia are built on a landfill. A very small lake was gradually being filled in by garbage and fill material. Even though it was the middle of October temperatures were in the middle 90s with high humidity. It is only 75 miles from the Gulf of Mexico coast.

We settled into our rooms above the clinic. Faith Ministry was foresightful enough to provide men’s and women’s dorm-style rooms with a common area used for fellowship and meals. I was still able to get into and out of the upper bunk bed without falling off. On our first evening together, David Lee, the Southport Presbyterian Church (SPC) organizer, gave out a description of the work for the week, assignments and we were told to be ready to go to work at 7:45 a.m. David has been coming to Reynosa for over 20 years, building at least one block house each year. On one of our outreach afternoons, after pouring a foundation by hand, a women, sitting in front of her block house called out. She recognized David from 17 years ago and came up and gave him a hug. She was grateful for his work and benefited with a basic home for her family.

Deantin, the founder of the ministry owned several sporting goods stores in the early 1990s. After experiencing the poverty in Reynosa he was overwhelmed with how to help pull people from poverty. He was ready to give up because of the overwhelming task until he read the “Starfish” story. He adopted the philosophy, “I can’t save them all, but I can help this one.” He sold his stores and started Faith Ministry. Current executive director David and communications director Colleen provide excellent guidance and leadership for this important work.

Each day started in the dark preparing to do basic manual labor. After a breakfast of cereal or toast and putting on our work boots we all loaded onto the vans and drove several blocks from the clinic to the mission. The mission compound comprised of a common hall to meet and serve food, a small wood shop, a church, a small office and sleeping rooms on the second floor. Both locations were surrounded with tall walls and a large metal gate locked at night. We met our local Mexican construction crew there each morning. We would work side by side with them, however I soon learned there was no way I could keep up with the hard working men and women building block homes. Ranging in ages from 15-73 it was clear I was out of my league with hard daily manual labor. Our Mexican friends were always gracious and thankful for the help and camaraderie. Even though there was little English spoken, there was not an understanding barrier.

Our first day was locating the construction site and organizing the work. It was a bit chaotic but productive. It turned out we were building two block homes, each one 12 by 24 feet with one door and two windows. It would have a cement roof. Both homes were within a block of each other. Our first job was to fill in the floor between the footings with a caliche type soil, all by shovel, pick and wheelbarrow. Today would be a luxury though, because we were able to use a small gas engine powered cement mixer to make the concrete for the floor. Again it was all carried by wheelbarrow. With as many people as we had, we were able to trade off wheeling concrete and carrying dirt, all in 95-degree weather. The family that is to receive this home has already been through a screening process. They must help with the labor of their house and help build another home. They must own the lot. The grandmother, ‘abuela’, was working beside us as much as possible. She was part of the family receiving this home. Her current home was little more than a plywood shell, maybe 10 by 18 feet. Veterans who had been in this ‘colonia’ 20 years ago said progress has been made. They don’t see the cardboard homes with small families living in them. We all felt pretty good when the floor was completed, but how were those seven hundred blocks used to build the walls going to get to the house? We would find out soon. The concrete had to dry first.

Lunch time each day we loaded back into the vans and drove to the mission where a traditional lunch of rice and beans with a little meat were served family style. We daily would form a circle, hold hands with our Mexican brothers and sisters and say ‘grace,’ thanking our Lord for the food and work to provide a home to another family. After lunch we walked across the courtyard and had a brief church service — singing and some announcements. The young pastor knew each of the families in the area and the struggles they experienced.

Reynosa was the center of a drug cartel turf war between 2008 and 2013. Many churches chose not to go to Reynosa because of the violence. During those five years according to the local newspaper, 15,000 murders were committed by the drug cartels to try and control the drug route into the US. The Mexican military finally came in and fired the local police because of the rampant corruption and provided stability. Churches have begun coming back to this area and provide help to the communities.

After arriving at the job site early, the blocks needed to be moved onto the concrete slab for easy access to build the walls. A human line was formed and blocks passed from one to another. After watching how the mortar was mixed and delivered and the first row was completed, Jiame, a 21-year-old mother of a 2-year-old, guided me through putting mortar onto the block, telling the top from the bottom and making a straight line — not leaning in our out. She was extremely patient with me. Beto would come by and ‘re tap’ my blocks to keep them straight. By the end of the week he would smile at me and gave me a ‘man hug’. Our Mexican crew had the routine figured out well. They guided each team member through worthwhile work and yet at the critical junctures they would seamlessly slip in and complete that particular function. The next question was how were we going to pour a concrete roof?

The next morning, the coolest part of the work day, I found out why I wore long pants and a long sleeve shirt. A small scaffold was set up beside the block house completed by a different church next to our block house. Our job was to pour the roof, just like a different church would pour the roof of the house where we had just built the block walls together. A cement mixer was positioned next to the gravel, sand, water and cement. A large metal square tub would collect the mixed concrete. Then a stream of workers, carried 5 gallon buckets of gravel, sand, cement and water to feed the mixer. A different line of people stood on various levels on the scaffolding and then the ‘bucket throwing’ began. A ‘scooper’ would put concrete into a bucket and toss it to the mid-level person and then upward to the next person and finally to someone who would dump it into the wheelbarrow on the roof where it would be poured between Styrofoam insulation and rebar. Once the bucket was emptied, another crew member handed the bucket to the next person so the ‘scooper’ could repeat the process. It was almost magical how a beautiful rhythm was created with buckets going up and down and a family’s home being built amid the fellowship of two nationalities.

One of our commissions was to reach out to the local community and invite families to the church for a movie night with their children and learn a little of Jesus. We divided into two teams with at least one fluent Spanish speaker and walked door to door handed out a paper sack with rice and beans, a notice about the movie and a New Testament. Every place people lived had some kind of fence in front, whether it was wire or iron work or plywood. The normal procedure was to call out from the street and see who was home. Every place had a mother and multiple children, many times two or more families living together. The muddy dirt roads were littered as though it was a land fill. In reality ‘it was a landfill’ with a person driving a horse and a cart collecting trash from other areas which would be sorted to try and find anything of value. Two little boys, maybe ages 5 and 6 were following us telling who was home and who was not. They said they would come to the movie even though they would get in trouble. I did not see them at the movie. Each person we met was gracious and thankful. They knew they were living in poverty but living the best they knew how. The church that night was mostly filled. We were able to provide a meal for all who came.

I had one particularly special chance to visit with two teachers coming to work in the neighborhood of one of the houses we were building. They acknowledged the desperate condition their students come from and it was obvious they loved their ‘charges’ and wanted to help prepare them for a better life.

By the end of the week our team had built two block homes minus the roof, poured a concrete roof, completed a concrete footing for another church, dug a footing and cleaned a garden at the mission. More importantly, the twenty people I met at the beginning of the week became friends with a common cause. My roommates; John, Gary, Tony, Pat, his son Seth and I shared a special bond. I met our Mexican neighbors face-to-face, worked beside them and appreciated the struggles they experience. I am already planning on how to go back.

Dan Martell was the principal at Ephrata High School for the last 12 years and retired in June after 38 years in education.