A dump isn’t a place you usually voluntarily go, and if you do have to make a trip to the dump its usually in and out. It’s not people’s number one hang out location. I mean dumps aren’t pleasant and Lord knows the smell is enough to turn your stomach upside down but the reality is the dump is home to some. Maybe they didn’t go out of their way to live there, but a string of circumstances led them to what most would consider a definite last resort. For some they work at the dump. Yes from the wee hours of the morning until the bus picks them up in the evening that’s what they do, search high and low for paper, cardboard, and plastic, the goal is to be one of the first ones to reach the garbage truck every time it brings a new load and this is all so that maybe just maybe they can collect enough stuff to get money to feed their baby or pay their rent.
For me this became my reality in Honduras, it was the most humbling of experiences, it was very difficult but some things in life you NEED to see. It opens your eyes to what is going on in the world. Us as North Americans have put so many blinders on and all we tend to see is what is behind our white picket fences. If what is going on in the world doesn’t directly affect us, who the hell cares. I’m so grateful to share what I’ve seen so maybe the people in my world or whoever may stumble on these stories may not be so uninformed about what's happening around the world. This is more than a world vision commercial or a CNN news story. INJUSTICE IS EVERYWHERE, EVERYDAY, 24/7! I don’t have all the answers, not even close. Maybe we can do nothing, not a thing to help or make a change, but let me tell you what WE can do BE AWARE of what’s going on TODAY, sometimes its happening in our backyards.
So we drove up to the dump just outside of Telgucigalpa, Honduras, I didn’t really know what to expect, we were warned the smell was atrocious. As we drove up that was nothing short of the truth. I couldn’t believe people could handle this, I kept saying if I could record “the smell” I would have. There were piles of garbage in every direction, and hundreds of people collecting any items they could to make money. We got off the bus and I won’t tell you I wasn’t nervous, I was. They warned us to be careful, stay with a guy if you can. Dogs everywhere, dogs that had definitely seen much better days, birds hovering, the people were wearing the filthiest clothes I had ever seen. It’s bad enough that adults were at the dump, but may I disclose children were very evident at the dump, and sadly a baby maybe about six months old. I was broken. HOW IS THIS OK? GOD THIS DOESN’T MAKE ANY SENSE? I CAN’T DO A THING? THIS IS HOPELESS? AND TO THINK THIS IS ONLY THE TINIEST GLIMPSE OF ONE INJUSTICE THAT IS GOING ON IN THE WORLD! (Day 1 thought process)
We were at the dump two different days, during our second last week in Honduras. God gave me so much peace on our second visit. Somehow the smell was more manageable on our second visit. As I got off the bus the Lord said to me, I don’t smell what you smell. Yes this isn’t right but I see these people in a different light, I don’t see them for their filthy clothes, or the fumes, or their dirty hands and mismatched shoes. See them how I see them. See their hearts, hear their stories, sit with them in the garbage piles, there is hope here. Just look a little closer. As we started to play our worship songs for them, a man with glitter all over his face began to dance, maybe just maybe there could be some joy in the dump. Play hacky sack with some kids, shake their hands even if they are so black from dirt, smile. Maybe you can do nothing, but you can still SHOW THEM MY LOVE. I LOVE THESE PEOPLE MORE THAN YOU WILL EVER KNOW KIERA. It’s all about perspective. Perhaps the people at the dump have it more figured out than us. We could have everything and still find something to complain about. Is life fair, NO, but Jesus still lives at the dump with those people. Those aren’t a forgotten people, but a chosen people.
There was a man who wanted to play Marcie’s guitar so badly. So after we were done playing she let him, lets just say he couldn’t play the guitar to save his life, he couldn’t really sing either, but Betty (who speaks Spanish) says he was singing about seeking first the kingdom of God. If I was living in a dump, and could still sing about seeking first the kingdom of God, well I say that’s beautiful. Thanks for getting it, and sharing with me man with two different shoes. You were a blessing to me.
