Tijuana

Fourteen by sixteen feet. One room. One roof. One window. One door. Hard concrete floor. And you should see their faces when we hand them the keys to their new home. It isn't much by any stretch (even if we go all out with insulation and sheet rock) but it is all they need. While such a household might draw some pity from the more financially fortunate people in this world, there is something about such a house that I envy.

There is nothing like sitting down after a long day of concrete. Blistered hands. Burnt Face. Aching body. Covered in concrete mix. Dirty and smelly. I love it. A day well spent. Fish tacos? yes please

This is the only picture I took at the orphanage that day, and I hate it. Look at those kids all well behaved playing board games. pshhhh. I enjoy when they go nuts. dog pile on the floor. with me on top and the poor kid on the bottom screaming. o what...they started it!! or when their are twenty of us on a safa all sweaty and gross after playing soccer. no no this picture will not do.

Look at that smile and those fresh clothes!! Bryan just came out of the bath house where we bring warm water for these kids to bath. My favorite job is washing their feet. Coscillas?