…but we were fortunate to be wearing boots, unlike the residents who walk barefoot through their “home office.” Phil, our guide for the morning and pastor at a local church, walked ahead of us through the heaps of rotting garbage. We found ourselves in the middle of the Tando dump, a large landfill on the edge of Manila Bay.
About once a week, Allison and I seem to wind up on what we like to call our “adventures.” We honestly never know what the Lord has in store for us on these days. Today, one of our friends offered to take us with her to a meeting with a woman who had a ministry in the dump. We agreed to go without knowing any more information than that. We have learned that when we clear our schedule, get rid of our agendas, and allow God’s hand to move us, our days quickly become amazing. After an hour and a half of riding in a car, subway, taxi, and another vehicle that resembled a paddy wagon, we finally pulled into what looked to be an abandoned warehouse. (We later found out that is exactly what it is.) Allison and I looked at each other wide-eyed, and emerged from the back of the paddy wagon with our friends right behind us.
We were introduced to a British woman named Jane Walker, who immediately started showing us around and introducing us to everyone we passed. This abandoned warehouse is now a private Christian school, a beautiful haven in the midst of mud and filth, which is reaching out to the poorest of the poor in the dumps. The children come from families who literally own nothing but other people’s trash. Focusing on improving the lives of both the children and their families, Walker is giving these children hope. She is showing them that they are valued and that they have the ability to succeed—something that these precious little ones rarely hear. This school is absolutely inspiring, but we wanted to see where these children came from, what they have to go through day in and day out.
After the tour of the school, Phil met us with a pair of big rain boots for each of us to wear while we walked through the dumps. In addition to the mounds of smoldering trash, the plentiful paths are nothing more than thick, gooey mud. It would be impossible to trek through in the flip flops and Chakos that we were wearing.
I can honestly say that I have never seen anything even close to this in my entire life. The poverty in this place is overwhelming and completely indescribable. It hits all of your senses at once like an atomic bomb. Young and old sift through fresh piles of waste that were just unloaded, hoping to find a piece of plastic or a glass bottle. Money is earned by being lucky enough to find items that can be recycled. For every 2 pounds that they collect, they earn 1 peso (about 2 cents). Their average income is 100 pesos ($2.50) per day. Trash bags from fast food restaurants are among the most valuable since they provide families with food that was thrown away by someone better off than them whose eyes were too big for his stomach at his last meal. Everything that is stationary appears to be covered in many tiny black polka dots. Strange, I thought. After taking a closer look, I realized these were swarms of flies resting on anything that would not swat them away. There must have been millions.
But the people are beautiful. Their smiles are a stark contrast against the filth and clutter. They welcomed us to their front porches, which were usually nothing more than the frames of old upholstered chairs sitting outside of their 6′ x 6′ shack. The children played with one another and scurried around, helping their family by picking up small objects that could be either reused or recycled. Because of the language barrier, we weren’t able to have long conversations. But they knew why we were there. They saw Jesus in us. They saw that He cares about them and loves them as His precious children.
To see more pictures from our visit to the dumps, please click here.
