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Published: February 6th 2009
Today as we returned to La Chureca I was reminded of a quote by George Santayana:
"The world is not respectable; it is mortal, tormented, confused, deluded forever; but it is shot through with beauty, with love, with glints of courage and laughter; and in these, the spirit blooms timidly, and struggles to the light amid the thorns." (or in this case…garbage)
Today words are not enough…nor will they ever be. I couldn’t possibly describe with full effect what we say today, nor can I describe the combination of smells, wind (the fires were worse today) and the taste of the dust.
Nor can I describe both the hope and the hopelessness and everything in between.
We began our day with a tour of La Chureca, a walking tour. In started simply enough, more of what we had scene yesterday; broken down houses, dirt and dust, and lots of children. Before long, everything changed, we came to the end of a street turned left along a lagoon. In the foreground were mountains, literally, mountains of garbage. We just thought they were hills, but years, months (who knows how long) the land was flat at our level until
the garbage had piled up. Then we turned the corner one more time about half way up the mountain of garbage was a small shelter, with 3 or 4 people around it. All of our eyes became transfixed on a body, lying face down, at the bottom of the hill. Astoundingly, as a couple of the adults in our group approached the body, nobody else seemed to care about her. A voice from the hill said, in a matter of fact sounding voice, that she had gotten high and drunk and had fallen down. As our guide checked her for a pulse, I prepared to move my group on, fearing she was dead. As a couple of us, turned her over and sat her up, we had to peel the fingers of one hand off a bottle in one hand and a jar of glue in the other hand. She was still alive, barely, with no medical attention, no ambulance racing to the scene, nor even the care of the people around her, she was a discarded human being, in a discarded place. We aided in making comfortable by moving her to the shade, giving her some water and then
we as we had to do moved on. Her name is Kathy!
As we continued to walk through La Chureca, the hopelessness of the place settled in. Our work and our play seemed to lack the same dynamic of the previous day. But, as the day wore on, in the heat, wind and dust, relationships from the previous day were renewed and our work again made a small difference. Today, as some of the students reflections will show, we discovered small nuggets of beauty in this horrific place. Those small nuggets of beauty gave us hope. A picture on a wall, a man taking pride in his work, a well made bed, all indicated a search for beauty, perhaps even the ‘need’ for beauty.
Also, today we discovered the normalcy of life in this truly abnormal place. Moms were moms, caring for their children, children were children, in one case waiting at the gate for the return of her father, children played games, siblings tormented sibling and neighbours helped neighbours….strangely, all very normal, and yet, surreal. It struck me that most of these children had no idea what the world beyond La Chureca looked like. This was their
‘normal.’
So the day came un-ceremoniously to an end. We boarded our bus, and ‘escaped’ La Chureca, because we could…
As we departed La Chureca, our emotions came to us in an unsettled space between hope and hopelessness.
Reflections:
Allison and Tianna:
Hope is found in amidst the most dire circumstances. Entering La Chureca is like going through the gates of hell. All around are endless mountains of bleak, grey garbage. Yet as you get over the initial shock and look deeper into the lives of the people living there, you see that as impoverished as they may be, they still have the ability to see beauty in the world that surrounds them. In fact, as we walked around, we saw little things that seemed to represent something of a different world. Amounts of worldly possessions might measure the status of a person, and yet what is that, compared to anything lasting? We were able to see happiness within the eyes, smiles, and laughter of the children; many had faith in Jesus and so they had hope for their lives, despite their homes in the midst of a garbage dump. We saw a mother, standing and bathing
her baby; on her house was tacked a bouquet of fake flowers. They were dusty and dirty, and yet they represented the hope that is present, although it may be hidden within the trash. Also, there was a dirt yard, and right in the middle of this yard, beside the cardboard, tin, and scrap metal shack, a motorcycle stood proudly. It was a diamond in the rough, and you could tell simply by looking at it, that it was a highly valued possession. Furthermore, there was a man by his home, and in his hand he held a paintbrush. He was painting his brown, used out door, a vibrant green. All around was brown and grey, dirt and smoke. And yet there was life and hope growing from it all.
Ginny & Christine (seesters!):
Today we had the privilege of meeting a beautiful woman who lives with her little son and daughter in La Chureca. We spent the morning tarping her home, and were thrilled as she shared parts of her life with us. She somehow inherited her house from a relative, but with this blessing came the burden of an unfamiliar, older man. The entire time we were
there tarping her home, this man huddled himself inside a dark room and swayed in his hammock. His only way to the outside world was a door about 2 feet tall. We were later informed that he has tuberculosis and that this woman’s children are afraid not only of him, but of getting TB. She created a wall of cardboard to separate her family from him. The look in her eyes told the story: she was terrified as well. As the day progressed, she shared with us another story that would strike fear into the very depths of any mother’s heart. Usually, the water in the swamp is about thirty feet away from the edge of the house. During the rainy season, the water from the swamp reaches right up to her doorstep and the whole back yard becomes a pool of nightmares. Two, full grown, ravenous crocodiles patrolled the muddy waters. When her son was young she was extremely nervous that he would get eaten by the crocs. She and her children were most helpful with our project of tarping the entire outside of her home. At one point, there was a small opening near the top. We asked
if she would like this open for light. She quickly responded, “No, robbers…” insinuating that she was afraid that someone would try and steal from her…her house had a one bed, neatly folded bedding with a mosquito net above it; a nail with a backpack hanging on an unrolled metal barrels and a small table abutting the wall. The room was very well kept; she certainly had great pride in her home and tremendous love for her children. We also noticed there was no kitchen facility at all. About half way through, she had to go to the La Chureca school to cook for the students. As soon as we were finished, her daughter took a chain and padlock to their door. We felt truly honoured to meet this incredible woman and her family.
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Diane Tansley
non-member comment
Look forward to your daily blog
Hi Brooke - I feel like it is a continued suspense story; each day I look forward to reading about the events of that day. I am so reminded of the young missionaries from my church (when a teenager) who would return home every four years to share of their similar experiences. Our interest was always captured by the unbelievable stories. You are experiencing many unforgettable situations; God bless you real good as you take it all in these last few days. You will be all the stronger for it. The bright crocs make me smile as no doubt they put smiles on the kids' faces. Love Grandma T