Mission group works to stamp out poverty
By BEVERLY KODESH The Artesia (N.M.) Daily Press

Volunteers made the trip to the rural Mexican village in December. They include a retired pastor from Lampasas.

Editor's note: The Rev. John Lewis, formerly of Lampasas, and his son and daughter-in-law, Stephen and Maria Lewis of San Antonio, head Tools for Development, the mission organization featured in the following story reprinted from The Artesia Daily Press.

"This experience will change your lives," said the Rev. John Lewis as we sat in his comfortable home in San Antonio sipping tea and discussing the next day's big adventure. His son Steven and daughter-in-law Maria, founders of Tools for Development, make the 700-mile journey to a small village called Agua Puerca in Mexico's interior mountains frequently.

They talked about the coming trip and previous ones. Mr. Lewis at 85 and recently retired from his full-time pastorate also is a veteran of the mission trips and knows of what he speaks, but had opted out this time.

Villagers in Agua Puerca, Mexico, work with a mission volunteer to learn how to use a sewing machine. Volunteers for Tools for Development, a mission organization based in Texas, regularly travel to the small village to assist its residents who live in extreme poverty.

His words were prophetic for me. I know I'll never look at a water faucet, electric switch or smooth roads with the same eyes. I left very early Christmas day to drive to Lampasas, Texas to join Gerald and Liz Allen Harper, who had arranged for me to tag along. Gerald is retired from First Christian Church (Disciples of Christ), Artesia, N.M.

Gerald, who likes to cook, served a wonderful dinner Christmas evening, and the next day we left for San Antonio to help Steven and Maria load the 12-passenger van we were taking, which had been provided by Holy Trinity Presbyterian Church of San Antonio.

The next morning, we were up at 4 a.m. in preparation for picking up the others at the church, making a total of nine.

The van's back seat had been removed to allow for space for cargo. Gerald and Liz were taking canned chicken and chicken bouillon to make soup for 2,000, plus crackers and various other foodstuffs. In addition, there were two 80-gallon pots for making the soup, bedrolls, suitcases, ice chest and various supplies; the van was packed to the hilt.

Agua Puerca residents do the laundry at a communal spot in their village. Water, along with everything else there, is a scarce commodity.

We left well before sunrise, picked up some breakfast tacos and were on our way. Everyone was excited and talking all at once about our big adventure. We stopped fairly frequently to ease cramped legs. We crossed the Rio Grande River at McAllen and exchanged a little U.S. currency for pesos for incidentals along the way. We were well supplied with bottled water and snacks, but stopped about 2:30 for a tailgate lunch of ham and/or turkey and cheese sandwiches.

We stopped to change drivers a couple of times. While the highway was good, it was different. I was happy to be in the back of the van where I couldn't see much ahead, but it sounded like pretty scary driving to me. It was not exactly a four-lane highway, more like three with a center used for passing. Not sure how the driver sorted out who had the right of way. Glad I didn't have to drive.

Villagers attend a meeting to discuss construction of a new well with Tools for Development volunteers.

We arrived in Valles about 8:30 p.m. where we spent the night in Hotel Tamul, a work in progress. Valles is a pretty city and hub of the local folks' tourist area. Pictures on the hotel walls advertised river rafting trips, lovely waterfalls and other attractions. Nice to have pictures since I can't read Spanish. And being in the middle of the holidays, the hotel was fairly busy. And guess what. The desk personnel didn't speak English. Fortunately we had Steven and Maria.

Linda and I shared a room, which was wearily on the third floor. No elevators or baggage handlers; just up the stairs and thankful for packing "light." The room was sparsely furnished; two beds, two towels, no chairs, no carpet. Very clean with a good air-conditioner and pretty blue walls. A long wait for hot water. Too long.

I was very tired and eager for a good night's sleep. Some went to dinner; I went to bed. It had been a very long day, and I'd had quite enough bouncing, although I'd yet to experience the road less traveled.

The hotel was on a main street, which sounded like a practice run for the Indy 500 all night. Wake up call was 7 a.m. We intended to have breakfast in the hotel, but the tiny cafe didn't have any chairs, so we walked a couple of blocks to a little joint where Maria and Steven helped us order. Leery of the water, I had a Coke with a couple of eggs, some potatoes with tomatoes, the first of many servings of black beans, asada cheese and some tasty tortillas.

After breakfast, we checked out and repacked the van. Maria needed a few more supplies so we stopped at a huge supercenter-style grocery store. While she shopped, we wandered the store. Signs were scary. The same dollar sign used here is used there, so veggies and fruit were $85 or $55 per pound. One of the interesting experiences of traveling.

Finally we were on our way to Agua Puerca. When we reached Tierritas Blancas, a small village about seven miles from Agua Puerca, the paved road ended. We started the assent on what could scarcely be called a road. Rocks, potholes, ruts. However, Maria's brother who works for the municipality had put his crew to work and made vast improvements, according to Steven.

It looked sort of like a caterpillar tractor had crawled up the rock slope leaving two rows of concrete in its tracks. Fortunately we met no oncoming traffic. Needless to say, folks who travel this road go through tires rapidly.

We bounced and tossed around like popcorn in a hot pan. I don't think anything inside me was in the same place as when we started when we finally came to the top of the mountain. We were literally on top of the world. For 360 degrees waves of mountain ranges covered with tropical forest stretched as far as we could see.

The land, about seven acres, was deeded to Tools for Development by the villagers because they believe it is haunted by evil spirits. Tools for Development wanted "common" ground for building because they feared the habitants of the five surrounding villages would not use the facilities that were located in any single village.

When the Lewises started in the mid-'90s, there was nothing there but rocks. Now there is a 3,000- square-foot medical clinic, still without a roof and only concrete block walls, and a dormitory/community building. This building, also of cement blocks, is about 18x65 feet. There are three showers, three toilets that leak and won't flush paper, and three small wash basins -- a vast improvement over earlier facilities.

We had walls around us and bedrooms and army cots for sleeping. Still no electricity or heat, but much better than sleeping on the rocks under the stars. And while the rocks made for extremely difficult construction, they do provide a firm foundation. Just getting the building materials to the site was a major undertaking.

We arrived mid-afternoon and after a time of oohing and ahhing over the scenery, commenced to unload and get ourselves situated for the night. Two truckloads of blankets, beans, rice, winter clothing and treats for the children had been shipped from Monterrey earlier.

While we still had daylight, we started putting together 600 treat bags for children. The event is called a brigade (rhymes with regatta). It occurs twice a year.

Summer events attract students from back east as volunteer workers. The winter event attracts older volunteers who don't mind giving up part of their Christmas holiday.

After the sun went down, it was not only very dark, it was cold. The thought of villagers sleeping in their stick houses in the cold made it easy to understand why the blankets and warm clothing would be such welcome gifts.

There were a couple of propane heaters to help warm the dorm, and candles were lit to help us find our way. After a supper of peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, snacks and fruit, it was early to bed. Tomorrow is the big day. And lots of work yet to do. The treat sacks were only about half completed before we lost light.

Up early, we had a quick breakfast of cereal and fruit and then started carrying firewood and building fires and carrying fivegallon jugs of water to fill the soup kettles. Gerald had it worked out how to make the soup and was beginning that task. Some were going through the bundles and getting handouts organized. Villagers were beginning to gather. The medical team, sponsored by Seventh Day Adventists, arrived. Village children helped unload the van and carry supplies to the work area.

Tents were set up for a couple of barbers who worked all day cutting hair. There are no local barbers. Villagers, some shoeless, some carrying babies using their scarves as sort of slings, gathered in little groups among the rocks. They waited patiently to line up behind a sign with the name of their village on it for the supplies to be doled out.

In the meantime, a large inflatable basketball-type game was set up and a volleyball net on the flattest area they could find. A small group of students from Rio Verde dressed up as clowns to entertain the children. And there were pinatas.

The Brigade is an "event" for all the villagers and takes on a sort of county fair atmosphere. Most appeared to be dressed in their finest. It was a lovely warm day, but many of the women wore sweaters and shawls. Some of the younger girls wore jeans and sandals, the generation gap in evidence, even here.

When gifts were distributed, each family received however many soup containers they needed. They brought them to be filled by the volunteers. Now think of this. There were no tables, no chairs, nothing to put anything on. The huge containers of ready soup were set on the ground for volunteers to simply stoop over and dip soup into the bowls as they were presented. Needless to say, one mother couldn't carry several bowls, so some village teens played waiter and helped carry bowls to the waiting family members who'd staked out eating areas among the rocks.

The villagers were very shy. They don't speak Spanish, only their indigenous dialect. So trying to warn them the soup was very hot and to be careful was fruitless. However, it all worked out and after about four hours of serving soup to everyone who came with a clean bowl, after it was determined that everyone had at least one bowl, then whoever wanted more could come back for refills until the soup was gone. And believe me, it was gone. Tortillas were handed out in great quantities, as well.

Most of the villagers walked. There were maybe a half-dozen old vehicles, a few donkeys and lots of dogs. It was so sad. Their ribs stood out, and they haggled over any dropped food. It was a long emotion packed day.

The next day, we toured the village of Agua Puerca. It has electricity, thanks to the men who toted the heavy concrete light posts from where the electric company dropped them, refusing to endanger their trucks by hauling them to where they were to be erected.

There is a village well, and all water and every stick of firewood is carted up to individual dwellings. We saw a young girl with a stick over her shoulders carrying two five-gallon containers of water. We saw women bringing their laundry on their heads to the well to wash it.

We visited the home of a local potter and saw her kiln and how she crushes material for her pots. We saw the living quarters for Benito and Margarita, Tools for Development humanitarian workers, which is another great improvement. Holy Trinity pays their salary, and their being there allows Maria to not have to be there as much as she used to.

It is arid, so few crops. They grow corn by poking a hole next to a rock and dropping in seeds. There is a common pond and some livestock. There are a few turkeys, pigs, donkeys, cows and chickens.

We saw the new school, built by the government, and sewing room were Margarita teaches sewing classes. We saw the new prekindergarten building, built by Tools for Development, where mothers are being taught child care and hygiene, among other things.

We saw their version of Bulldog Bowl, a relatively smooth space with wooden sticks for goal posts and rocks for seating the fans.

Houses are mostly stick, with anything they can find to fill in -- cardboard, old paper plates, whatever. Some are cinder block. There are a few orange trees and something called a sweet lemon, which tasted awful. A few poinsettias and other plants I have no idea of.

We were invited to lunch at one of the more progressive family's home. Tirsa was busy grinding corn to make masa for tortillas when we arrived. The cookhouse is separate from the sleeping quarters. An open cooking fire inside was burning brightly as she busied herself with last-minute preparations.

A table was set for the nine of us with her very best. The floor was dirt. The walls and ceilings were hung with storage containers to keep out pests. She served the plates containing black beans, rice and nopalitos. No feisty pepper flavors used at all. She also served a sauce on the side made from onions, tomatillos and cilantro. It was tasty. And the most wonderful tortillas, which she made and cooked as we ate. And orange pop. According to Maria, orange is a favorite flavor.

After lunch and a tour, we headed for another night in Hotel Tamul and the beginning of the end of this marvelous adventure.

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For more information on Tools for Development, visit the website at www.toolsfordevelopment.org or contact the Rev. Gerald Harper in Lampasas at 556-8060.