On the morning of Day 11, I accompanied Fritz jr. to Tijuana
to rendezvous in the Costco parking lot with a friend who was bringing car
parts from San Diego. We drove through
streets with typical small vendors, but eventually approached a more developed area
with larger professional buildings. “Here’s
the Boulevard of Fanciness! And at the end is…Costco!” he said with a smile. At the time it seemed a light-and-breezy comment about an Americanized part of town, although I didn’t ask the street’s
real name…maybe it was something like Fancy Street, who knows.
While we were waiting for the delivery to arrive, peddlers
(a widely grinning man and his wife who said they were trying to make money to pay
their rent) approached us, selling homemade tortillas. Everywhere we go there are plenty of
opportunities to support such people.
Even when waiting at street stoplights, window-washers often dash out
and hurriedly wash the front windshield for a donation. We didn’t buy any tortillas (being
gluten-free), but Fritz jr. did give them a few coins, and ended up having a
long conversation with the woman who evidently appreciated having the opportunity
to chat about a family member - I think it was a cousin - who was on her mind!
In the midst of that spontaneous conversation, the friend
arrived with the auto parts. After a short
shopping trip to Costco, we delivered the parts to a waiting mechanic shop
to be used for repair on the priest’s truck.
On the way home we stopped at an open-air fruit and vegetable
stand. It offered diverse produce and
something I’ll call personality – it felt friendly there.
We also stopped quickly at a health-food-type store for gluten-free
bread. Actually the bread had been
purchased at Trader Joe’s in California and marked up in price slightly for resale, and was bagged in a Whole Foods paper sack. Funny!
Upon our return to the ranch, the boys were waiting with a
surprise birthday cake for Fritz sr. in La Cocina (the kitchen). Fritz jr. decked
him out in a fancy, colorful poncho and sombrero, and they sang a traditional
Mexican birthday song before eagerly devouring a chocolate cake with creamy
frosting. Plenty of boyish gusto at this
celebration of 67 years!!
Late in the afternoon we returned to the mechanic shop to pick
up the truck. Fritz jr. drove it home while Fritz sr. drove the Jeep (a bit of
a hair-raising experience, but he handled it like a pro) while I rode along as
moral support. The head mechanic and
Fritz jr. are good friends, and it was delightful to watch them interact. I was touched to learn this owner of the shop supports the
orphanage by giving 10% of his proceeds from every Thursday’s work as a
donation (see sign).
Home again, to relax in the swing! I had to laugh at these "twins."
In the evening Fritz jr. and I attended the last portion of an Akathist in
the chapel, and enjoyed another visit with Father Nick. Then we converged with a 16-year-old orphan, Alex, at
Fritz jr’s house (our home church in Michigan supported Alex with Christmas
gifts in 2014) for a rousing board game.
He speaks some English, which helped our conversation immensely! I felt surprisingly comfortable in his
presence, almost as if some international, inter-cultural bond (common
humanity, but also common commitment?) tied us together. He is an
avid sportsman who drooled over a picture of our Hobie Catamaran and our
stories of water-skiing behind the boat!
He hopes to someday attend a university in the States, perhaps one in
Boston, and we emphasized that our door will always be open should the
opportunity arise for him to visit us.
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