Thankful

As you may recall, we spent Thanksgiving week in Guatemala.  

I sort of began recounting the trip a few weeks ago.  

I got to the part about the monkey and my ankle. 

Ugh.  Let's move on.

So Day 2 of the Guatemala trip was kind of a drag.  Usually, we have had a project to be working on while visiting with La P.  This time, however, there wasn't much going on at the orphanage.  

There was a mother and daughter from Louisiana staying in our house and they were a hoot.  We had a lot of fun playing cards in the evenings with those two!

But as far as productive work...not so much.

On Day 3, we had plans to venture into the city.  

In the past, we've been cautioned to stay out of the city.  Guatemala City is very dangerous.  The most recent statistic that I read is that there are an average of 11 murders a day within that city.  It is home to over 13 million people who have an average annual income of less than $5000.  

This past year we have felt God moving us to step out of our comfy box a little bit more.

(Thank you very much, Radical.)

Samuel, a missionary from our hometown, had moved to Guatemala a week or so before we arrived, and he picked us up that morning. 

As Samuel told one of the missionaries at the orphanage the places that he was planning on taking us, the response was, "I'd never take anyone there.  If you need help, don't call me."

Surely he was kidding.

We went to a local restaurant with Samuel and a translator.  We learned a bit about Samuel's ministry and how he had ended up on this short term adventure in Guatemala.

Our plan for the day was to visit a children's home in the city.  As we began talking about the many heartbreaking situations in Guatemala, our conversation quickly took us to the city dump.

Samuel asked if we'd like to go there.

The dump in Guatemala City is home to thousands.  Generations of families have lived and worked in the dump.

I'm not sure that I can use words to accurately describe what we experienced.

Any words that I could use feel so empty and hollow and cheap.

So bear with me.  

To see to the dump, we had to walk through the General Cemetery of the city.  

Most of the vault type things where the people are laid to rest are rented.  If the family of the deceased doesn't pay the rent, then the body is taken out and chunked over a cliff to the dump so that the vault thing can be used again.

Do you see the vultures?

I cannot even begin to explain the vultures.  

We walked to the back of the cemetery toward the cliff.

Every sense was assaulted.  

 

There were so many people.  There were men hanging on the back of the trash truck in a line so that they could get the first chance at grabbing what dumped out.

When the back would lift and dump, their bodies would slam toward the ground. They would sometimes not let go, and so their bodies would flail in the air when the bed slammed back onto the truck.

We were told that many are maimed and killed by this act of desperation.

We witnessed one man grabbing a tarp and running as fast as he could while gathering it in his arms.  He had scored shelter.

In the last picture, you can see a blue rectangle and a yellow rectangle in the center toward the bottom of the photo.  Those are two houses.

As we stood quietly, taking it all in, Samuel said gently, "It's overwhelming, isn't it?"

So very.  

Samuel said that he struggled with how to pray after seeing it for the first time. Soon, however, he began to focus his prayers on the dump truck and bulldozer drivers.  He prays that they will be alert and attentive and that they will come to know Jesus.  

I thought that sounded more manageable, but couldn't process it at that moment.

Off to the side, I could see an area cleared from trash and lots of movement.

I nodded toward The King and showed him the area.  

We struggled as our minds registered what our eyes were witnessing.

It was a soccer field.

Some young men had cleared an area of trash and created a soccer field.

It was now much more than just "generations of people who live in the dump".

Those are words.

These were young men.  Young men who have a life in front of them.  

Young men who deliberately moved tons of trash and filth to create an oasis of joy.

Do they have hope of getting out of there?  Do they even want to get out of there?

Do they know they can get out of there?

The pictures seem so flat.  My words seem so insignificant.  

The magnitude of despair in that place seems so enormous.

Soon we made our way back to the car.  

I'll share about our next stop in the next post. 

Comments

[Heather]

Wow, this post makes me think so much of my pastor's sermon from this past Sunday. He just got back from Kenya. He quoted Luke 3:11 (part of it) "The man with two tunics should share with him who has none..." It's too hard to recap the sermon, I'm horrible at that, but it has me thinking about what I'm going to do with the "two tunics" that I've been given, through no effort on my part....the blessing of being born in the country I was born in, to a middle class family, during this time in history, etc. I hope that makes a little sense.

[Mrs. Oh feels incredibly humbled and blessed!]

When I see those pics and read your words the term extreme poverty comes to mind but even that doesn't go it justice. Poverty denotes you at least have some thing or things... We as Americans are so comfortable in our middleclassness and freak out when we can't get a cell tower signal or the power goes out for a few hours.... so few of us have witnessed what you have. I remember seeing similar things in the Philippines when I was a child. Maybe if everyone could see these things we would appreciate all of our blessings more, maybe we would thank God more often instead of praying for more material things, maybe we as human beings would be more concerned about our fellow brothers and sisters of this world and do something to help each other out. I pray for the day that maybe becomes reality. *off my soapbox* Can't wait to see new pics of LaP :D

[Michelle]

I'm not sure I can find anything appropriate to comment. As ridiculous as it sounds, all I can think is Wow!

[Melanie (Timber)]

I'm nearly speechless, too...it does remind me of the two greek words for poverty (that my pastor-husband mentions now and then) - one for our American-type, living week to week, and the other, used in the Beatitudes, meaning absolutely destitute, having nothing at all. We, when lost, are that 2nd kind - spiritually destitute - and when we realize it, we're in great position to grab hold of salvation! God bless you and that missionary friend, whom God is using in such a special way.

My 20-year-old daughter read Radical and now gives it frequently as gifts to others; she pours herself out as night supervisor of a women's home in an addiction recovery program...living a radical life!

[Your mother]

Your words paint a very vivid pictures. One I think most Americans would prefer not to think about. We have not seen poverty like that of a third world country. And some are worse than others. You are correct when you say they don't know they can get out. Lack of education. Bless you for making us aware.

[Flowerpot]

I'm a bit speechless. *Thank you* for sharing this and especially for sharing the pictures. You did a great job of writing, but somehow seeing all the vultures in the air ... intensified the story. I'm simply sitting here shaking my head. This is where a scratch and sniff monitor would be handy. Not pleasant, but handy in driving home the immeasurable abundance of richness we have in America. Inexpressible blessings. I thank you again for showing me these people to care for and pray for.

[PeepOne]

Wow...unbelievable life...another world.
Thank you B.

[Angie Wycliff, Coeur d’ Alene Excavating]

That is truly terrible, and it's sad how sheltered we can be with all our blessings here in the US.

[linda]

Happy birthday you forty-something year old thing!

[heather]

thank you for sharing your photos. the dump is somewhere i have read extensively about but never visited...i cannot even imagine!