On May 6 our church participated in a one-day medical mission to Tijuana. Our group was dispersed to four sites, one of which was the Tijuana Jail. Meg and I went with a group of around 12 to a place called October Third (??) somewhere in the hills. Even though I studied Spanish for three whole days prior to this trip, communication seemed hopeless. But it was fun trying, and the people who came to the event seemed to appreciate our struggle with their language. I promised them that my Spanish would be alot better next time. We (Meg and I) were assigned to food service, but whenever possible I tried grab a few snap shots. Of course one question that was always on my mind was how the presence of a few norteamericanos could bless the lives of the people living here. I'm not sure exactly. But I can say for sure that I felt blessed by coming here, and I went home considering all the meaningless clutter in my life, thinking that los mexicanos have more to teach me than I have to teach them.