As we take off all our jewelry and stuff our electronics away, we’re told that we can’t leave the house without a trusted local with us – because the kids will rob us just for fun. It’s a game to them. Fighting is a pastime. ‘Make them think we have nothing that’s worth holding a gun to our heads’.. that’s the plan. So the door remains locked at all hours of the day . . .
But after spending two weeks in the slum of San Francisco in Cartagena, I can’t imagine the people I meet doing those awful things. The kids are sweet, loving, and incredibly happy. The people are kind and generous and patient. I am both humbled and honoured to hear their stories and to share my life with them.
As I sit on the porch gazing through the bars at this lively neighbourhood, my heart aches and soars simultaneously.
