How I spent my Winter Vacation

I had Christmas in Utah.  I was missing my internet, but the sheer joy of my nieces and nephews as they opened mountains of presents made up for it.  They were up at 6:30 rejoicing in a brilliant Christmas- toys, clothes, sweets, more food than all of us together could eat in three days.
The day after Christmas, I was up at 6:30 for a different reason.  I met up in Layton with Carol and Stuart Smith, my aunt and uncle.  Along with 25 of their assorted friends and my aunt Joan, we drove down to Douglas, AZ and over the border into Agua Prieta, Sonora, Mexico.  Agua Prieta has some of the poorest barrios in Sonora.  We promptly set up a base in one of them, at a women's shelter.  Bunk beds and Mexican food for all! 

Bunk beds and concrete floors were a luxury for the area.  The homes were often made from any material that could be scrounged up, at best cinderblocks or adobe, and at worst just cardboard and plywood.

The life of luxury                                             The life of a local

Here the kids play with rocks, wear the same t-shirts every day, may not have running water, and often go to sleep hungry.  They have never seen mountains and can't even imagine mountains of presents.  I immediately stopped missing my internet, phone, text, friends, and fridge.  This was life at the bare essentials, and a week here was nothing when I knew I could go back to my cushy life at the end.  If you whined, even once, about Christmas in your neck of the woods, consider fining yourself $5.  That much will buy food for a week for kiddos who are grateful for half an orange.

We shared the space and the projects with the Larson and Cottam families from Ephraim, who together with their friends added another 20 people to the Roadhouse.  Because they were building a relatively humongous house (800 sq. ft) and had more work, I ended up on their crew.  At first, I was totally intimidated by the project.  I thought that, like Stuart, they were a construction family and all knew what they were doing.  Those who know me know that my five talents do not include either construction or Spanish.  I didn't want to get in the way, so I did what I've been doing since I was four years old:  tool-hander-and-gopher. 

The second day, a few people went early to get things going.  I took the chance to practice pounding nails while no one was watching.  I decreased the required number of hits per nail from 70 to only 20, and a few weren't even bent.  On the fourth day, bouyed by my success with the hammer, I made peace with the drill and learned to hang drywall.  I also put up insulation and totally helped eat the tostadas.  So there you go- willing hands can make a difference, with or without experience.

time to do my nails!                                     warming up to the task