Thursday, July 12, 2007

Juarez, Mexico: Part II An hour after leaving Phoenix, we were already touching down in El Paso, Texas with a sleepy leader, a discouraged leader, and two anxious team members. It was 11 o'clock, leaving about two hours until we would board vans with other groups from all over the U.S. and travel across the border to Juarez. As we exited the plane and began walking toward baggage claim, it was apparent that our 2-hour wait was going to be less than thrilling. Aside from a handful of shops catering to turquoise-loving tourists and two small Mexican food restaurants, little much else existed. Baggage claim reminded me of the little town in Washington I used to visit when I was younger. Four luggage carousels were nestled in a corner of the airport with dozens of passengers waiting for their bags to arrive. We began to notice other high school-aged students wearing the same grey, "Project Serve" T-shirts that we were sporting, so that was a pretty good sign. Luggage arrived. We met our trip leader. Baggage was tossed in a growing heap next to the automatic sliding doors near the exit. So far, so good. Still feeling like a failure as a leader, but doing all right for the most part. "So hey, do you guys want to go get some food?" our trip leader asked. We shrugged our shoulders, grabbed our wallets and walked down a small corridor to our only option: Mexican food. "Fine by me," I thought. "Might as well get used to it-- we'd be eating a lot of it for a week." Our small group stuck together in the small alcove, straining to hear over the loud hip-hop music blaring from a speaker overhead. After polishing off a chicken burro and an iced tea, I checked my watch and we headed back to the carousels where a large group of teens had congregated. Sitting in a circle, they slept and talked amongst themselves while we sat in a set of chairs. My other leader began sleeping with his head resting on a metal bar behind him. Within a few minutes, I was ready to break out of our little group and try to be social. With my team members on board, we joined up with the other group while my other leader laid down on the airport floor to take a power nap. Georgia. Never been there, but the accents sure sound nice. As soon as we had approached this group of Georgians, we were immediately welcomed in and began comparing notes on the differences between our cultures. Sweet tea. (Big) trucks. Football. Wafflehouse. Yes, Wafflehouse. It was in that moment of learning about these 16-19-year-olds that I began to feel more excited, more relaxed, and less aware of my previous failures as a leader. We would be waiting for another hour for other groups to arrive, but I was looking forward to the wait and the rest of the week ahead of us.