Disclaimer- We started ministry in Honduras with a one week
internet fast. As a result I have
not kept up on blogging, so my Honduras blogs aren’t going to be in
chronological order. That being
said, this is what happened today and I couldn’t wait to share it!! Nutshell version of this months
ministry- working with street boys who are now living in the home of an
American missionary (Tony) and showing them lots of Jesus’s love.
I just got back from a colony where we hung out with some
kids. The plan was to play soccer
all day, but then I saw an opportunity.
Our contact here, Tony, always says, “Don’t miss the opportunity!� So I’ve been trying to do just that.
This is the scene- Poor colony (colony is basically a small
town) in Honduras. We are at a
soccer field where younger kids are playing. It’s a legit game- jerseys, referees, everything.
Sidenote: Soccer is
just about the only thing that can unite this divided country.
I’m sitting on
the sides with a couple of other squadmates and I smell cigarette smoke. I looked over and saw three guys
sitting on the rocks about 15 feet away.
Sidenote: Christians
never smoke or drink in Central America.
When missionaries first came here, they told people that you couldn’t
smoke or drink AND be a Christian.
As a result, you can safely assume that anyone smoking or drinking in
Central American is not Christian.
I really wanted to go over and talk to the guys, but I felt
a little intimidated. I
liked the idea of talking to them, but I didn’t want to actually do it. However, my desire to have no regrets
was stronger than my desire to feel safe, so I compromised- I went to get Rony,
an 18-year-old boy that has been living here at Tony’s house. I’ve gotten closer with him than any of
the other boys this month, and I know he has a past. I figured he would be able to relate to what the guys were
going through and their way of thinking.
Well Rony didn’t really want to come with me- he wouldn’t
admit it, but I think he was too nervous.
He said my Spanish was good enough that I could go by myself, but I
didn’t think my vocabulary was wide enough for the occasion. So there was another compromise- I went
to talk to them while Rony stood nearby,
just watching.
I sat down on the rock next to them and just started
talking. I started with the basics
and asked them how they were and their names. They told me, and before I knew it we were engaged in a
legitimate conversation. I think
they were a little taken aback by this exceptionally pale gringa that dared to come over and just start talking in her
kindergarten Spanish. Rony jumped
in at one point (after I stared him down and told him that he needed to help me
out and say something) and asked the first guy I was talking with, Luis, if
they go to church. Basically Luis
explained that he believed in God but didn’t like churchgoers because they were
ignorant and judgmental. I felt it
was a fairly common argument, and to be honest, more accurate than I care to
admit.
I didn’t have the capabilities to engage in a full on
religious discussion with my words, so I decided on a different tactic-
actions. Actions speak louder than
words anyway, right? I couldn’t
tell Luis about Jesus’s love, so I tried to show it to him by being genuinely
interested in his life. We talked
about his seven year old son that lives with his grandmothers in Tegucigalpa
(the capital, about an hour away).
We talked about his jobs painting houses and doing electrical work. We talked about his tattoos and how he
wants to take a drawing class, but he can’t afford it (The class costs $240 for
one month, but he only makes $200 a month). We talked about the times he got shot and got into
fistfights. We talked about how he used to play
soccer but doesn’t as much anymore because his leg was injured when he got hit
by a car. We talked about his father that died over a decade ago and his role
as a father to go visit his son.
We talked about how he wanted to go to the US to work and make more
money, and how he really needed to go legally if he didn’t want to end up in
jail (I initiated that part of the conversation. Clearly).
All the while I was thinking to myself, What is happening? Am I
really sitting here beside a soccer field in Honduras talking in Spanish to
25-year-old guy that loves to beat people up, smoke cigarettes, and get
tattoos? But as I’m writing
this its becoming more clear in my mind that there are many different ways to
look at Luis. I could have only
told you that we talked about his son and how he is working to provide for
him. I could have told you how
much he bragged that his son was so smart and knows the alphabet, some songs,
and the numbers up to 100 in English.
He is a proud father, like so many fathers I know. His circumstances are different, but
Christ can give him something eternal to live for, just like He can for anyone
else.
A while later another guy showed up. He shook my hand and greeted me with
“Wazzup� which of course piqued my interest right away. I found out his name was Jeffrey and he
had lived in Miami for half his life.
Luis and the others had said earlier that they wanted to go play
basketball, so when Jeffrey said that he had a ball we moved our little
gathering across the street to the basketball court.
Jeffrey was an interesting character. He looked like the most stereotypical
black American guy- a huge white T-shirt, shorts that went down to his ankles,
spotless white Nike shoes, sunglasses, black rosary around his neck, purple
Miami Heat hat, and headphones in his ears. Since he lived in Miami he spoke English really well, I got
to talk with him for a long time about his life, Honduras, and the gang life
here.
In the US the meaning of tattoos differs with each
individual person. In Honduras, if
you have a tattoo you are assumed to be in a gang, or at least have some sort
of ties with a certain one.
Jeffrey told me the gang that watches over his colony is rivaled to
another gang nearby. That nearby
gang all wears the same shoes that he does and they all have tattoos, so he is
sometimes mistaken for one of them.
This can make him a target.
He told me that he won’t go to San Pedro to translate for the pastor we were working with because the gang that controls that area sees him as a rival. It’s a very interesting and
complicated situation with gangs and violence that I can hardy begin to
comprehend, but I was very grateful to Jeffrey for giving me a little bit of
insight.
The day ended with playing a little more basketball with the
guys I met, but altogether I enjoyed my time with them so much. I overcame any fear of other people and
just approached them with the love of Christ, and it totally worked. Never underestimate it!
Luis, me, and Kevin.
