 
                                                                                                    13/09/2025
                                            Friendship Without Borders: A Day at Friendship Park
by Joan Lucci
On August 16, the Day of International Friendship, I found myself at Playas de Tijuana, in the vibrant heart of Friendship Park. From 11 a.m. to 6 p.m., 200 people gathered, filling the seaside space with music, laughter, and the irresistible aromas of churros and tortillas on the grill. Families mingled, grassroots organizations set up booths, and children darted between workshops and performances. The energy was warm, hopeful, and deeply human  a reminder that even in the shadow of a border wall, community flourishes.
The festival had been on my mind for weeks. In mid-July, I joined friends to watch artists at work on the border wall. Students, volunteers, and well-known local artists collaborated on Abrazo Mutuo (The Mutual Hug), a new mural whose central figures an eagle and a condor  were drawn from the Indigenous prophecy of unity across the Americas. I caught a glimpse of Alfredo “Libre” Gutiérrez, the artist leading the effort, painting with a steady hand as his vision came to life. That day, my colleague Anne Porter introduced me to Daniel Watman, Director of Programs for Friends of Friendship Park. His enthusiasm was infectious. It was clear this place wasn’t just a park it is a gathering ground for healing, resistance, and creativity.
By the time August 16 arrived, our Baja California Democrats Abroad team was ready to contribute. Along with Anne Porter and Lisa Briganti, I set up a nonpartisan Get Out the Vote (GOTV) information table from 1 to 4 p.m. For many binational families and U.S. citizens living abroad, voting rights can feel confusing and out of reach. That day, we helped several people confirm eligibility and begin their registration process.
The cross-border contrast could not have been starker. The Mexican side radiated life: murals splashed color across the wall, music drifted through the air, and neighbors embraced. Just steps away, on the U.S. side, the beach stood desolate silent, nearly abandoned, barbed wire giving it the feel of a ghostly no-man’s-land. Both sides share the same coastline, the same Pacific waves. But only one side celebrated friendship.
Throughout the day, I met remarkable people who embodied the spirit of the park. One was Javier Salazar Rojas, known as the Deported Artist. Born in Tijuana and raised in Oakland, Javier’s life changed at age eleven during what was supposed to be a family vacation. That was the day he discovered he was undocumented, forced to walk back across the border while the rest of his family drove north. Today, Javier transforms that painful history into powerful art, and I was proud to take home one of his pieces. Before the event ended, Javier introduced me to his wife, who had flown from the United States to see him. Their reunion was a moving reminder that behind every deportation is a family enduring separation. Meeting Javier and his wife together brought his art and story to life.
I also met Reverend Guillermo Navarrete, Carol Clary, and Israel Olguín from the Border Church my neighbors at the table next to ours. For years, the church held weekly services at Friendship Park, welcoming people on both sides of the fence. Since 2020, with the U.S. side locked, Rev. Guillermo and his congregation have continued to gather on the Mexico side. Their ministry continues, a weekly act of unity against the forces of separation.
The Day of International Friendship revealed many layers  the authentic joy of families sharing food, music, and laughter. There was also the binding energy of organizers, artists, and activists who created the event and refused to let the wall define the community. But, in stark contrast was the solemn acknowledgment of separation seen in couples and children who once touched fingertips through the mesh of the wall.
As the sun set over the Pacific, I felt grateful being there, alongside Anne and Lisa, contributing in our small way with voter outreach. Democracy, after all, is no abstract concept. It lives in moments like this, when people show up, connect, and claim their voice.
Friendship, like democracy, doesn't stop at walls. And at Friendship Park, both friendship and democracy feel unstoppable.                                        
 
                                                                                                     
                                                                                                     
                                                                                                     
                                                                                                     
                                         
   
   
   
   
     
   
   
  