Day 14: Hope is to Kiss a Duck

As I walked around with the handyman Ed today pointing out leaking pipes and broken faucets in our facility, he talked to me about the history of El Paso. 

Ed grew up here, and said that back in the day there were far more day laborers that made the border crossing every day. He used to fish in the Rio Grande and watch as they made their way back and forth over the bridge, yelling down to those that sat on the banks below. 

According to him, during the second Bush administration, life in El Paso changed drastically. Petty thievery became common and the border grew more violent. The most unwelcome change for him was the home-grown hatred towards migrants that quickly became the status quo. Fueled by ignorance, some natives of El Paso were hostile towards those who crossed the border. 

Living in such a pro-immigration space, I haven't given much thought to the more exclusive and xenophobic demographic of El Paso. I've thought about tragedy and unjustness, about humanity, about the importance of service, about the nuances of religion, and more. But I haven't thought about the proximity of negativity that may exists all around us. 

Ed said he hates what's happened. 

Working on this building makes him a bit more hopeful. He feels like with a screw, a piece of pipe, some twine, or a roll of tape, he's doing what he can. Bit by bit, he's helping fix the brokenness of a city he has loved for a long time. 

The volunteers also give him hope. He said that we inspire him to think about how he can live more selflessly and how he can devote more of himself to this cause. He described the people that we see every day as the "fallout of the world stage." I liked that. 

Ed is a character. At the end of our maintenance duties, he told me his son had no sense of humor. 

His parting words were: "I hope to kiss a duck that I see it all change for the better soon!" 

I pictured Ed kissing a duck.