Thursday, January 24, 2008

Juarez, Mexico

There is something special that happens when you realize how large this world actually is. Spicy food, language barriers and surface level cultural differences are not what impact us at our core. A person’s heart can change when they are exposed to the needs of this world that have yet to be met. When we are exposed to tangible relationships, emotional hardships and a visible lack of justice a profound change can occur. Our hearts were changed. I suppose the purpose of this letter is to thank you for making it hard. Thank you for exposing us to the injustices of this world. Thank you for taking a part in the change that many of us experienced while being in Juarez.

The trip began on a cold morning in Longmont,
 Colorado, with a group of twenty-one college students trying to figure out how to p
ack all of our tools, clothes, and sleeping bags into four vehicles. Ten hours of driving, and a stop at a Chinese buffet delivered us to El Paso, Texas, where we stayed the night in a church gymnasium. Naturally, a game, similar to American Gladiators’ Powerball, broke out in the gymnasium. After a considerable amount of socks, skin and sweat were sacrificed we called it a night. Confession: our first construction project was repairing the ceiling fan we accidentally broke.

The next morning we crossed into Mexico. El Paso and Juarez sit side by side, but the two cities are strikingly different. As we crossed the Rio Grande/Rio Bravo del Norte the landscape transformed from skyscrapers, advertisements, and consumption into factories, working-class barrios, and production. This was when many people began to realize how large the need actually is. We picked up our tools from the warehouse and set out to find the job sight, quite the struggle in a city that has grown much faster than its infrastructure. Have you ever tried to look for a vacant lot in a city with almost no street signs, few paved roads, and plenty of dirt fields? How, exactly, do you discover the location of a house that hasn’t been built yet? After an hour or so of driving we found the dirt rectangle that would very soon become a three room, insulated, set of classrooms.

We began our project by leveling the ground so that we could lay the concrete foundation. This alone took the whole first working day. Our first night in Mexico was New Years Eve and we really wanted to celebrate New Years like a Mexican would. Sadly, on the way to the central plaza, one of our four vehicles broke down. Needless to say, we celebrated New Years Eve being pulled behind a dodge truck by a towrope. It ended up being one of the most memorable New Years Eve celebrations in recent memory. By the time we arrived at the building site the next day the ground had settled a little and it was time to start building a house. Brandon, our Casas por Cristo staff member, fearless leader, and seasoned builder, delegated tasks and we set out to work. Framing, cutting, and foundation work were all completed simultaneously. By the time we broke for lunch, the concrete was curing, all of the necessary wood was cut, and most of the walls were framed. After a couple of sandwiches (and an unknown number of Mexican sodas) we returned to the work site. We began to set the walls, place the exterior insulation, and prepare for stucco. To our surprise, we had what looked to be a house after barely more than one full day of work.

We began our third day of work with an impromptu dance party. Nothing puts you to work on a cold winter morning like Brett’s techno workout mix. The third day was spent either on the roof, stretching chicken wire (for the stucco), or building one of the best retaining walls you will ever see. By sundown we had finished the roof, begun hanging dry wall, and had a solid start on our landscaping, the first landscaping a Casas por Cristo house had ever seen. That evening, Kyle prepared an amazing meal for all twenty-one of us to enjoy together in our church home. Our last day of building was a full one. We arrived at the work site, turned on some (more) sweet jazzercise music, and set out to finish the house. After a couple of hours, the stucco was complete, the drywall was nearly finished and we could
 begin putting on the final touches. Most people were inside at this point, mudding the walls and painting, thankful to be out of the freezing January wind. By the time the sun had gone down, we were putting up the light fixtures, moving the custom built bookshelf, and really outdoing ourselves with the xeroscaped plants and monsoon resistant ground cover. After about three and a half days we had a hou
se. Sea foam green paint, bookshelves, landscaping, two ceramic space heaters and what will hopefully be a long lasting safe and warm place full of memories, learning, and joyfulness.

During the dedication service we discussed how a house, in and of itself, might not be a meaningful gift. What gives the house its significance, what brings out its potential, are the ways i
n which it is used. Conversely, we often take structure for granted, failing to acknowledge how crucial warmth, shelter and safety are for our relationships. The time spent with Carolina, and the rest of the family, was the actual reason we went down to Juarez. Although we may have forgotten it at times, we did not go to simply build a house. Instead, our purpose, both in going to Juarez and in being a Christian, is to contribute in building a kingdom. A kingdom where relationships are prized, love and mercy flow between us, where needs are met, and where injustices are realized and absolved. We built a beautiful house, but hopefully, with your help, we contributed in the building of what is going to be a beautiful kingdom.

Sunday, January 20, 2008

What's the weather supposed to be like?

What is the most pressing problem on earth? 

Sometimes I feel like I can't even begin to think outside of my own experiences. When I try to answer this question I can't get any further than: What am I going to do after graduation? I need some money to get around, how can this happen? Or, will I ever receive the acceptance and love from the people that I want it from? A friend of mine recently described our lives using a storm/shelter metaphor. I could not escape this visual when trying to answer this question inspired by Brian McLaren.  

There IS a storm raging. There are actually multiple storms going on in parallel. Injustices are everywhere, whether I realize them or not. It is hailing golf balls in Africa, a tornado is destroying lives in the Middle East, and hurricanes run rampant in the hearts of  exploited workers in Mexico, China, Vietnam, and nearly every other labor intensive country on our planet. We don't even have to look beyond our own borders to see the injustices that take place. Cloudy skies can be seen hanging over New Orleans, most inner cities, and there are even storms going on in the lives of at least forty people here in Longmont

But here I am, Chris Nicoletti, sitting in adequate shelter. I can hear the muffled patter of rain drops on the roof. Occasionally it gets a little chilly, so I take a couple of steps towards my consumeristic thermostat and turn up the temperature a little bit. It seems so hard for me to escape the brick and mortar which has been protecting me for the last twenty-one years. 

I am jealous of people who continue to hurt, feel, and at the very least, are affected by the injustices going on in the world. I say that I am jealous, but I am also intrigued and intimidated by those who are aware of the weather. I have always been a person who accepts circumstance very quickly and effortlessly. What I mean is that I don't poke, prod and analyze. I simply accept it as reality and move on. What I am realizing however, is that by simply accepting the conditions which surround me I will never take a step outside to see what the weather is really doing. I am like the old man who sits in his living room, surrounded  by panoramic windows, watching the weather channel. I am sitting on my butt surrounded by wealth, consumerism, subsidies and government policies. Don't get me wrong, I am very thankful for the shelter which has protected me, but it is important to get out of the house once in a while. If I continue to blindly accept, and essentially ignore, the conditions of this hurting world I will never feel the rain drops on my face. I will never feel the excitement that only the wind can bring. And, most importantly, I will never have an influence on my environment. 

I hope that this blog and my journal are an effort to stop and analyze a little bit. I think conversations with my "skeptical" friends could rub off on me. My hope is that I can be braver than I currently am. Maybe then will I take a step outside and see what it really going on with the weather. 

Friday, January 11, 2008

Here and There

Just woke up, thinking about my Christmas break so far. Friends are beginning to leave already to go back to their respective institutions, new homes, and other lives. It is always strange coming home, trying to figure out the new, but very much the same, group dynamics. I have not even thought about blogging during the last three weeks. For some reason celebrating Christmas for three days, building a house in Mexico, and showing a friend from Oregon how awesome Colorado can be, has gotten in the way. I plan on slowing down a little bit. At least until Frank (a friend I met in New Zealand) flies here in a couple of weeks... and then it's on like Donkey Kong.

There will be more musings to follow, but first I need to take a "chill out session." If you have left, I will miss you. If you never came back, I miss you a lot. And if you are planning on leaving soon, can we please spend some time together before I begin missing you?