We would like to express our thanks to the Terlingua Ranch Community Church and Ronnie Sauer of Southwest Texas Solar for their generous contributions to the Paso Lajitas Solar Pump project. 

SOLAR PUMP IN PASO LAJITAS 
Starting on a beautiful sunny day in South Brewster County, six adventurists head for the border of Mexico, not to escape, but to help.  We are headed towards Paso Lajitas, the historical crossing into old Mexico.  We are but the most recent in an old lineage of travelers heading to Mexico on thoughts of romanticized adventures.

On the other side, residents go on like they always have; tending to life as it comes along.  Roosters crow and dogs bark, in a sleepy town that once was busy with activity and tourism.  The village of Paso Lajitas holds 20-30 residents, mostly elderly couples and families living the simple life, surrounded by mountains and the mighty Rio Grande.

No one was at the border waiting, with no trumpets or cheers; we are alone on the border with just the sound of the river rolling along the rocks.  We need more hands to help move the cargo into Mexico.  Our cargo consists of tires, a solar water system, and extra clothes and tools we might need along the way.  The river is boasting this morning, as it tries to push me along its path.  The water laps my knees, and the forced was incredible.  With slow, deliberate steps, I reach the other side.

Now, its not every day that a skinny gringo with a big hat walks into Paso with wet pants and a big smile.  Most people don’t even notice, and go about their daily routines without a thought to this newcomer with soaked legs. I call to the nearest house, “Hola, senor, buenos dias.”

“Buenos dias, senor.  Como Esta?” was the response, from inside the modest home.

I explain my situation, and we are on our way.  And where might we be going? I am not sure, but at least we are doing something.  We walk along the streets, interrupting the routine and call out everyone to help.  My guide starts rounding up men for a team. The solar pump is here, and we need extra men to install it.  As a group, we head back to the river, where my friends still wait in the USA. To avoid breaking any laws, no one crosses back into the USA, but we manage to haul the cargo across the river and into Paso.

Once in Paso, the group takes over. I am thinking, “why am I even here, these guys know what they are doing better than me!”  The task at hand is to pull out the standard water pump from the town well and replace it with an efficient solar system.  Our hopes are to provide a dependable water supply without the constant cost of electricity and repairs.  Everyone is excited and things move steadily.

We start with the solar panels and assemble a frame, while part of the group starts removing the old system.  Once the frame is complete, we concrete a 7-foot tall 3“ steel pipe to mount the panels near the well. 

“Take a break,” one of the old men says,  “the concrete will need time.”

And so we enjoy a Mexican Coca Cola in the shade of a tree.  Chickens and dogs, children and grandmothers, all walk by, stop for a look, then continue as if nothing has disturbed the natural progression of the day.  As we wait, we talk about various things, the border closing, families, and life in general.  The attitude is constantly up beat.  Jokes and laughs abound. 

What a treat to experience the good-hearted nature of the Mexican culture and the Mexican people.  It’s hard not to think that there is not much here, but you also cannot help but admire what they do have. Happiness is everywhere, as well as contentment and joy between everyone.  The people themselves are the treasure.

Our concrete hardens up in the early afternoon, and we continue our task at hand.  The new pump is connected up and positioned back down into the well.  Everything goes smooth, but we run into one small problem.  The well is filled with silt, sand and rocks, and needs to be cleaned to drop the pump further into the well.  The afternoon is drifting away, and the group decides it’s best to finish tomorrow. 

Everyone thanks us and we thank them.  It was a good day and a good achievement.  The men seem very capable and interested in what we did.  They say they can handle it tomorrow, cleaning the well and going through things by themselves.  We decide to move towards San Carlos and continue our adventure.

We are offered a ride to San Carlos, twelve miles south and forty minutes from Paso.  The rest of the American group, our ride home, is arriving there soon.  We travel along a creek for most of the journey, enjoying the beautiful landscapes the Big Bend is so famous for. San Carlos appears in the distance, a giant oasis at the foot of a mountain that rises nearly 300 feet above.  Pecan orchards, fruit trees, and running water are the life of this town.  Our ride drops us at the plaza, in the middle of San Carlos.  James and I are astounded at the site of trees and water everywhere.  We sit and enjoy a cigarette before walking to find our American friends.

And there they are, enjoying themselves as mush as we are, cruising through town on Emiliano Zapata Avenue.  We are greeted with “Buenos Tardes, Gringos”.  We hop in the back of the truck, open a beer and cruise the town, admiring the scenery and views.  The sun starts to set, so we head to the hotel for the night.  Each room is nicely equipped with a TV that doesn’t get any reception, hot water, and 2 nice king-size beds.  I don’t live this well at home.

Sunday morning greets us with a beautiful sunrise and the familiar sound of the roosters announcing the sun.  Each of us wakes up and makes our way to the local restaurant for sweet breads and coffee. We engage in the normal morning chit-chat, politics, weather, Mexico, and all sorts of topics that slowly drain the day away.  By mid-morning, we are ready to start the journey back home, almost six hours away.

We travel out of San Carlos via the main highway to Ojinaga, which isn’t really a highway of sorts that we are used to, but the biggest road around, nonetheless.  This highway snakes through a large valley that sits between mountain ridges covered with trees.  You can feel the altitude; the air is cooler, brisk and refreshing.  The plants are more robust, with small shrubs and trees scattered about.  Rock cliffs, uprisings, and embankments jut out against the peaceful hillsides.  The road is made of dirt and dust, but fairly smooth and comfortable.  There are three of us in the back on the truck, just kicking back and enjoying the show.

We stop beyond the mountains where the valley expands to hold the bustling Ojinaga.  Our stomachs beg for lunch, and we reward them with fresh baked Mexican bread, avocados, tuna, cucumber, and various delights.  We sit in the sun enjoying our lunch for about an hour, and we watch as a truck or two pass along the lonely highway.  Back to the truck, and on to Ojianaga.

As we reach Ojinaga, we are all feeling good about the trip.  We do some shopping for groceries and that great bread, then head for the Border. We cross back into the United States and start our ride back to Terlingua.  The river road looks spectacular this evening, from the back of a pickup with the dust of Mexico still on our boots.