El hoyo

They call it "el hoyo" which means "the hole". It's the place to go to get your drugs. The drug of choice here is crack or "piedra" which means rock. They say its better here, bigger, stronger than you can get in neighboring towns. "El hoyo" is a deep, depressing and dangerous place and once you have fallen in, its like trying to get out from a 100 foot hole with no footholds or places to grab. Even if you can see the light from where you are standing it is almost impossible to reach it or feel its warmth again. The police won't do anything. Their station is literally  next to where "the hole" is.  Its an oxymoron of co-existence. Your only hope is a miracle.

This is where one of the boys, Pablo* (12 years old), who was living with Lisa, choose to return after almost a year of living the life a child should have. They say that it can take up to three years for a street kid to start to begin to come around and that it is normal for them to run. They also say finding a street kid once they are back on the streets is very difficult and nearly impossible if they are in "el hoyo". The reason for this is they sleep during the day when its safer and are awake at night.

One day while Lisa and I were in town, which is about an hour from where we live, we decided to drive through "el hoyo" just to see if by some chance we would see him. Fist we met Juan*, a 14 year old street kid whose face looks like that of and old man because of the drug. Juan is "a looker". He takes the people who want to buy drugs to the drug dealers. Lisa was talking to him to see if we could find out where Pablo was.

During this time I was waiting in the car trying to take everything in. I was watching the faces of the people who passed by. Some were high, some were wondering what these white girls were doing in this part of town, some were police men with there large guns and expressionless faces - all seemed hopeless.

Then I hear Lisa yell, "Pablo, venga" she called. He ran down an alley. She decided to talk Juan some more and bought him some lunch. As we were driving away Juan waves us over. We round the corner and there is Pablo with Juan holding him so he wouldn't run away. Lisa jumped out of the car and ran to embrace him. She held him tight and they talk for a little while.

 I can still see the picture of them talking clearly in my head. This once healthy looking boy looked nothing like he did when he was with us just 5 weeks ago. It was like the life had been sucked out of him. He was scrawny, with murky eyes, wild hair, and tattered clothes.

Lisa returned to the car with tears strolling down her cheeks. She told me he said didn't want help, he said he was fine where he was. Trying to process the hurt and the pain, we drove away.

*Names of kids have been changed.