Visiting a Family

Thursday was a hard day, but not because of physical work. We did work very hard in the morning painting the houses, the sweat running off of us, leaving us feeling like limp, wet dolls by lunch. But despite our aching arms, our sweaty, dirty bodies, and our tiredness, we felt a deep sense of accomplishment from our morning’s work. No, I didn’t mind the physical work at all.

The afternoon was the hard part; we travelled to an outlying area, about thirty minutes away, to visit with a sponsor family. It seemed like we were in the middle of nowhere when we turned off onto a very bumpy, dirt road. I thought this was a bizarre place for a family to live. What I didn’t realize is that there was an entire community tucked away in this remote area. This wasn’t a single family living in poverty; this was an entire community, about seven hundred families, all living in deplorable conditions.

We visited with Maria, one of the families sponsored by Fe Viva. Maria’s husband has passed away; she has four sons, two of who still live with her. Maria’s house is typical of many of the houses in the area; it has uneven dirt floors and walls that are made from either tin or wood or sticks, whatever is available. There is electricity for the single light-bulb hanging from the ceiling. Otherwise, there are no modern amenities.

Cooking is done over an open fire in a lean-to kitchen; water is hauled from a tap in the town center several blocks away. There is no refrigeration.

Chickens and dogs wander in and out of the home. There are no windows and the heat inside is stifling. While the gaps in the walls are large enough to let any type of critter enter in, they do nothing for air circulation.

Our visit attracted a number of the neighborhood children, and while initially shy they soon felt comfortable posing for the camera, wanting to see a replay of their photograph on the screen. There were no tricycles, game-boys, computers or televisions for these children. In fact, I saw no toys at all. The children entertained themselves playing with rocks and sticks.

A coffee plantation surrounds the community, and many of the adults find seasonal employment picking coffee beans. We were told that the original owner built the facilities we saw in the center of the village: the water pumps, schools and churches. He treated the villagers well and helped them meet their basic needs. When he passed away his son-in-law took over the management of the company; apparently he does not care about the people, only about making a profit from the coffee.

Knowing about the poverty that exists in this country is saddening, but actually seeing it on such a large scale across this entire community was overwhelming. I thought that we can help one or two families, maybe even ten or a hundred families, but how can we possibly help so many? And communities like this exist across the country. It was heart wrenching to see, knowing that while we try to make a difference, the needs are so great.

On our way back home we stopped at the garbage dump. A family of fifteen lives there, including children of various ages. The family makes their living by scavenging through the garbage to collect bottles that they sell. They have no permanent shelter, only tarps strung up over uneven ground in an attempt to provide some protection from the elements. The garbage is burning and a thick, choking smoke fills the air, overpowering the stench coming from the rotting debris. Vultures are in the trees all around, waiting for their turn to swoop down and feast on the smorgasbord of garbage.

Yes, it was a hard day emotionally, but unlike the people we saw, we got to leave it all behind.