Email: Christine Allen

Greetings Friends,

I hope this letter finds you well, and that you know that I think of you often. Life in Tucson is filled with blessings and challenges, and I finally feel ready to articulate the ins and outs of this transition—from college to "the real world," from ocean to desert, and from one community to another.

In mid-August, Nate, Wanda (his Honda Civic), and I left from Richmond, Virginia, and headed south and west towards our final destination: the Sonoran Desert. We stopped at our alma mater, Guilford, in Greensboro, North Carolina, and then visited Asheville, North Carolina, Knoxville, Tennessee, and Austin, Texas, visiting family (Josh!) and friends, absorbing the diverse landscapes of the United States.

Now, almost two months later, Nate is substitute teaching and has found a great house to live in with two other guys: a 28-year-old fourth-grade teacher, Wes, and a grad student from Turkey named Ufuk.  I have settled into the Young Adult Volunteer (YAV) house with six other folks from all over the country, all of whom are committed to a year of service through the same program. We get along well and have had fun deciding how to incorporate spirituality, exercise, and environmental awareness into our daily lives. We all ride bikes (plus one trike) instead of driving cars, we enjoy fresh produce from the farmers markets, and we take showers in our outdoor solar shower. We are continuously discussing how we can simplify and live conscientiously while serving the border, both the Tucson side and the Mexico side.

The issues surrounding the border remain an integral element of most conversations, both within the house and the greater community. It is hard to ignore the problematic state of the border since we are 60 miles away from the wall. Before coming here, I was not aware that our country had already begun building a barrier—they started in 1994—separating multiple cultures and countless families. Now I feel a sense of responsibility to pay close attention to legislation, racism, and the militarization of the border and how each has affected the people I meet everyday.

Jesus, a man I met in Altar, Mexico, who had established a family, job, and home in California for 18 years, was recently deported back to Mexico without notification for being an illegal citizen. Now he is debating whether he should risk his life and make the journey across the desert back to his family or to reestablish himself without them in Mexico, where supporting a family of four seems impossible. He speaks perfect English and wears an L.A. cap. Last year, 173 people died crossing the desert, from hyperthermia, dehydration, hunger, and other crime- or accident-related causes. Hearing Jesus' story made that number seem so much bigger, and I realized the magnitude of the border crisis.

The stories I hear each day at work are equally moving and transformative. I volunteer every Monday-Thursday with CHRPA, the Community Home Repair Projects of Arizona, fixing leaks, patching roofs, and building wheelchair ramps for low-income families. At first I felt completely out of my element and was not excited about daily trips to the Home Depot, but I have begun to form relationships and understand the need for manual labor to ensure adequate housing for all. I met a woman who had two large holes in her backyard filled with sewage. Rats and mosquitoes were rampant, but she did not own the land, only the mobile home on it, so she could not do anything about it. There is sadness in everyday, but there is also a powerful community of people here who recognize the need and are working towards justice. And if we look for it, we find the light in these struggling, ignored, needy people. It's hard but good.

Long bike rides, Quaker meeting each Sunday morning, and inspirational people have kept me going through this transition. I am often overwhelmed by the options available in this city, from activism opportunities to community bike rides (with 200 people wearing dresses) to contra dancing. The conversations I have been a part of about God, self-discipline, and grace have proven challenging; indeed, my spirituality has been stretched and my purpose questioned. I am grateful for having the chance to learn and to ask and to grow and to find beauty and community in this cactus-covered land.

Thanks again for being a part of my support system. Take care and please feel free to email me anytime. I'd love to hear how you're doing. Much love to you.

Paz,

Christine