The morning was spent in Lomo de Corvina. By now we know the
drill well…20 min. bus ride, followed by 15 min walk up the sand dunes to one
of the poorest villages surrounding Lima.
We are greeted by curious stares, mangy dogs, and smiling children. The most
predominant features of the landscape here are sand and trash. The heat of the
sun is penetrating with an intensity that quickly makes me wish I’d remembered
sunscreen. Shade is nowhere to be found, along with grass, trees, and all
things green. The ocean is only a few hundred feet away, but it’s no where to
be seen due to the 10 ft. high wall that extends as far as I can see in both
directions. The next three hours are spent visiting families, praying for
people, playing with kids, and evangelism. Some invite us in to chat, others
let us pass with a simple “Hola.” Our
goal is to build trust and form relationships…to lay the foundation for the
church that will soon be built here. By lunchtime, I’m exhausted. My shirt is
soaked in sweat, I can feel the sunburn on my face, and nearly every inch of me
is covered in sand. This is a typical day in Lomo. However today is unusual by
the fact that team YETI is leaving for the afternoon. We decided to leave the
rest of the group at 1:30 pm and have some much needed small team time. As we
hike back down the sand dunes we discuss where we want to go. The general
consensus is somewhere green! We finally catch a taxi, and in 25 min. we’re
transported to another world.
We arrive in Surco, another suburb of Lima, and ask our taxi driver to drop us off
at Parque la Amistad. We’d seen it a few times in passing and decide it would
be a great place for a team getaway. I get out of the taxi and my senses are
immediately assaulted by the sights and sounds of the city. Traffic lights
straight ahead, McDonalds, Pizza Hut, and KFC to my right, the beautiful park
behind me, and a 3 story grocery store to my left. Taxi drivers yelling, horns
beeping, music blaring, Kombi buses clamoring for any attention and business
they can get, and of course the ding-ding-ding of 100 little ice cream carts. Yes,
the park is beautiful and the grass between my toes is pretty much amazing, but
part of me struggles to accept that it’s ok to really be enjoying it. I feel
like I’ve been time warped. 30 min ago I was staring at hopeless poverty, now
I’m eating Chinese food, drinking Starbucks, and playing in the park…what’s
going on here?
My life here seems to be a dichotomy. Such a stark contrast
exists between the poverty of the villages where we live and work, and the
abundance of the city we often visit, that I’m having a hard time reconciling
the two. I feel like I get tossed back and forth between two worlds, and I
don’t really think my brain is capable of processing them both simultaneously.
How am I supposed to feel? Is it ok to escape to the city and enjoy the
comforts of home for a few hours? I feel guilty relaxing, indulging in ice
cream or a cheeseburger, and enjoying air conditioning when I know that all
those people we talked to earlier are still living their same lives. They can’t
just hop in a cab and escape from it all.
Does this numb me? Does it keep me from truly feeling the
hurt and pain of these people because I never have to fully let it sink in? Whenever
it gets too hard I can just escape to some place more comfortable. Have I
really abandoned everything if my natural reaction to hardship is to run to
comfort, materialism, and the familiarity
of home?
But then I also wonder…is Starbucks really the cure? Do all
my problems go away just because I’m holding a latte in my hand and sitting on
a soft couch for a couple hours? We look forward to our 2 days off thinking
that time away is just going to fix things and give us the energy we need to
get through another week. Or what happens when Starbucks is closed? (As it is today for Good Friday…who knew?!) I’m sure soon enough we’ll be in places where comfort
isn’t even an option. When those times come how am I going to make it? Am I
learning how to find deep fulfillment and comfort outside of materialism?
Because THAT is what I need to be sharing with the people up at Lomo de
Corvina. They have nothing, and my purpose should be to show them that hope and
joy is possible despite their material circumstances. How can I share that
until I learn it myself?
