It’s quiet time now…and the warden is passing by each of us and slipping the old “whisper!” yell as he steps by, and I have to wonder why silence is such a special and rare gift in the complexity of our normal lives. Yet right now I feel as if nothing about life is normal; I wake at six in the morning (to the sounds of not an alarm clock but the stepping of careless feet on my arm as people descend the mountain that is our bunk beds) to wake at six is a feat I would never perform in my normal life. I load up in a truck and travel the endless barrages of ups and downs that qualify for a proper road in this country, I unload plywood, play with kids, and build houses…yet none of this ever deals in what I am sitting in right now—the silence.
It is sweet and reflective and it begs me to focus on things that would never be a thought in my normal everyday life; and when I think about my day in quiet’s embrace my mind drifts to what affected me most in this completely different world named Tijuana.
The people. (more…)
