holy land

Our first task in approaching
Another people
Another culture
Another religion
Is to take off our shoes
For the place we approach
Is holy.

Driving across the border last week into Tijuana, I felt like I was coming home. I found myself beaming with joy, honored to be able to return to a place that for me, can only be described as holy land. In the weeks leading up to my departure, I was surprised by the reactions of horror I encountered when telling otherwise well-meaning American citizens of my trip to Tijuana. Realizing the image in their mind's eye was so different from my experience, I felt compelled to share perhaps a less-known reality of this "horrific" place. The hillsides of makeshift houses made of scrap metal, plastic, tires, smashed corrugated cans, tarps, boards, cardboard, and the stench of raw sewage, that were once a shock to my system, no longer define this border town. When I think of Tijuana, I see the many families I've met who have so little, yet love so much. I see a people-to-people culture where I feel more loved, alive and beautiful than I ever have in the States. I taste the mouth-watering tacos and tortas that I crave for months between trips, made with the freshest of meats and vegetables at the nearby taqueria. I acknowledge the presence of violence, but see through the superficial security alerts that too easily become a crutch for inaction and complacency with fear-driven individuals. How easily we dismiss our neighbors.

The word "holy" simply means "set apart." Tijuana is a place set apart, a sacred space in the context of my development towards a compassionate human being and global citizen- it is where I first experienced a reality outside of my Idaho upbringing: of injustice and seemingly excruciating poverty, of a different reality co-existing on the same continent. To return to Tijuana is to remember a high schooler's transition from ignorance to awareness, symbolic of my first glimpse into a bigger world. I spent last week in meetings with Esperanza's board of directors, asking, defining and refining our mission statement. Who is Esperanza International? What does it do? How does it do it? The questions we were discerning for the organization morphed into an evaluation of my own personal mission statement. Who am I? What do I want to do with my one wild and precious life? How do I want to do it? I won't tell you my answers to these questions. But I will tell you that Tijuana is where my personal mission emerged, ever so subtlety, back in high school. I am extremely grateful for the St. Pius X Mexico Mission Trek that opened my door to this sacred place 12 years ago, and to Esperanza International who has kept the door open this past year by taking me on as their Development Intern.

The next time you hear mention of Tijuana, or the violence in Mexico, or anywhere that brings to mind horrific images for that matter, I hope you will remember that beneath the security warnings, there is a vibrant world of good, hard-working people who would show you the depth of their hospitality if you only dared to take off your shoes and walk into their world.

Paz y Esperanza, (peace and hope)
Hana Truscott
Development Intern
Hana.Truscott@esperanzaint.org