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.

Laundry in every country

Clothes get dirty. You can wash them by hand and hang them up to dry or put them in a washer and dryer, but either way you have to do something to get them clean again.

During the two weeks that I was in charge of the boys I realized that with 4 of them, there was always laundry to do. I could not escape it. Inevitably boys get dirty with all their playing outside.  If I didn't do any laundry they would run out of clothes to wear and that just wasn't an option.

Laundry has reminded me of a very important lesson. There are some things in life that I have to do that are not always fun but are necessary. The difference isn't how I do them but what my attitude is towards doing them.

I like to argue with God. "God, I know I said I wanted to come here to serve you, but I wanted to make a difference and do something great. This isn't exciting and cutting edge like I hoped it would be. This is normal everyday life."

I can see His gentle smile as he looks me in the eyes and reminds me, "Yes my child, you did come to serve. You came to serve me. You find your worth not in the things that you do, but in your faithfulness to do what I have chosen for you. Keep your eyes on me and remember, there is laundry in every country".

Movies and a hospital bed

Jeremias needed to spend the night at the hospital which frazzled me a little bit. I thought they were just going to drain some junk out of his chin and we would be on our way (I know...you like my technical term). How was I suppose to be two places at once? How could I watch the boys at home and be at the hospital at the same time?

I emailed Lisa and we figured it out. One of the workers, Argentina, who has been helping me out, would spend the night with Jeremias and I would be with the boys. It meant more work for me in the morning but that would be ok.

From the hospital I drove to pick up the rest of the boys then drove to pick up Argentina, then drove home. We ate dinner, piled all the boys back into the car with Argentina and went back to hospital, then drove home for the night. Good thing it's only a 10 minute drive to the hospital. The only challenge is trying to dodge ALL the holes in the dirt road along the way! I am also thankful that I learned to drive stick when I first started driving or this situation would have been a lot more difficult.

I got the boys ready and off to school the next morning, went the hospital  to pick up Argentina, went to pick up Fidel, who is another worker, drove them back home then drove back to the hospital to be with Jeremias. By now I was becoming a pro at dodging the holes,  cows and dogs on my way to and from.

When I finally got back to the hospital Jeremias wanted me to watch movies with him. It wasn't enough that we were in the same room, we had to be doing the same thing. He would tell me what was going to happen next in the movie or asked me if I liked a certain part. I didn't know I would be continuing to learn my Spanish through kids movies, but it works for me!

Later that day, I found out the doctor wanted to keep him one more night because they don't have a fancy machine (I think its called an EKG) to check to make sure everything was still looking good.



God is teaching me serving comes in all kinds of ways. It can be as simple as snuggling with one of His kids in a hospital bed while watching movies in Spanish and if I get to do it two days in a row, it's a blessing!

Wait..no..I don't do vomit

One of the boys, named Jeremias, had a growing lump under his chin for about a week. It wasn't getting any better so the doctors decided that they would cut into it to see if they could get anything out and to try to figure out what was going on.

They gave him a shot to put him to sleep and worked on his little body. I waited in the waiting room until they were finished with the procedure. Once it was over the doctor came out and asked me to wait with him as he was waking up. She said sometimes they are a little disoriented or sometimes they can be a little nauseous.

I conjured up my most motherly skills and went into the room. I rubbed his back and hummed him a song as he tried to orient himself and his surroundings. His eyes were dialated and hazy as he  looked at me half asleep.

Sometimes he would say, "Vamanos" or "y Isaisas? y Jelsing?". He wanted to leave and wanted to know where his brothers were. I told him we couldn't leave just yet and that his brothers were waiting for him. This was not a sufficient answer for him and he tried to sit up a little to show me that he was ready to go, but before he got to his feet he started to throw up. I had to leave the room! I don't have this motherly gifting yet! I think you get that when you have your own kids. My gag reflexes started to kick in and I too would have been right next to him throwing up if I hadn't left. I called for the doctor who was in the other room and said, "I'm so sorry I can't be with him right now...or we will have to clean up two peoples throw up." She laughed, saying my face was priceless as she went into the room to move him to a clean bed. After I took a few deep breaths I returned to try to comfort him. "Good thing that's over," I thought, "He doesn't have anything left in his  tummy i think I can manage it from here." It wasn't 5 minutes later that it started all over again. This time I was determined I would suck it up and be there for him. I tried telling him he was ok and rubbed his back. Holding my breath I moved the sheets from the previous bed that were still full of throw up, put down a new sheet and gave him a clean place to try to rest. When the doctor returned she congratulated me for making in through this time and I must admit that I was kind of proud of myself as well.

"Vamanos". He repeated over and over. I couldn't have agreed with him more but unfortunately he wouldn't be going home tonight.

Welcome to our restaurant

One of the things I was hoping to experience while living here was eating authentic food, things that I wouldn't likely get in the states. Yesterday after I cooked an American dish for lunch, I told them they could be the chefs for dinner.

They asked me "can we pick the flowers from behind the house to eat for dinner". I told them they could and when I went to go check on them they looked like little monkeys, high in the tree. They came in with there bags full of little pink flowers, much more than we could eat by ourselves for dinner. Then I had an idea. I asked them "how would you like to cook them for some more people who are visiting from the states?" I was sure the other visiting missionaries at the hospital would want to experience the culture in this way as well. Their faces lit up as they pondered the idea of being the chefs of the evening. We went through the kitchen gathering the ingredients we would need to bring - eggs, meseca, oil, flowers and green beans.  On the hospital grounds there is a "hotel" for visiting teams and they have a large kitchen downstairs.We hopped in the car and were off to our "restaurant". 

The two younger boys lost interest in being the chefs when there was other things to do, but the older two were up to the task at hand. They started preparing the tortillas as I helped separate the flowers. As people came into the kitchen they would hand them a tortilla saying "Probalo", "try it". They would study each persons reaction as they tested their creation. When the "customer" said they like it they would stand up a little taller, very proud of themselves, and continued with their cooking.  

Another couple had prepared chili and bread, which was good because we wouldn't have had enough for all of our guests. When the food was ready we went upstairs to the dining room table which was prepared nicely and lit by candle light. There was 12 of us altogether. We enjoyed good food and company as we fellowshipped together. It was a different experience for some of the boys and you could tell they were trying to take it all in, not quite sure what to do at times.

We had dessert which another gal had made, said our goodbyes and called it a night.

I think they have a future business as restaurant owners, now we just have to come up with a name. 

Taming the Waves

One of the things that the boys love to do is go to the beach. They especially like to bring there "lanchas" which is a boogie board and styrofoam surf board and ride the waves. They are very fun to watch as they help each other paddle out trying not to get pushed back to shore before catching the perfect ride in.

One of the boys while waiting for his turn on the "lancha",  had found a stick on the beach and was playing in the water. He is the smallest of the four boys but loves to use his imagination.   I couldn't help but smile and laugh as he was slapping his stick, with all his strength, against the waves as they came towards him. It was as if he was saying "take that" you wave, "I'm the master here". He did this for several minutes ready to teach each wave who was boss. I think he thought that maybe if he did it enough times the waves would cease to come in and surrender to his strength, giving up the fight. When the waves persisted he finally jumped over them, throwing himself into the mercy of the water as if to say "this time you win".

Playing Mom

This past week I have been in charge of the kids as Lisa is away temporarily for 2 weeks. I have tons of help and am not alone in this task and am so very blessed with all the people who are helping me and making sure I'm ok. Being responsible for these kids is teaching me a lot. They help me see life/ in a new way, challenge my patience at times and always keep life interesting. Here are a few stories from the week.