The first week living in the Colombian ghetto, someone called me a “stuck up.” My reaction to these two words surprised me. People are always going to have something to say, but this in particular bothered me. Coming across as “stuck up” isn’t something I strive for. Especially out here on the race.
After it was said, I quickly learned down here it means something different. It means spoiled. It means mommy and daddy give you everything you want. It means you have it all. I didn’t like this definition either. I shook my head and tried talking about something else.
But after spending a month in the Colombian ghetto, the definition of spoiled in my life has never rang louder. I am spoiled. All I have to do is fly back to the United States to the comfort of my home. All I have to do is think of my loving family, boyfriend, and friends.
I will never forget the first time I went down to la cancha (the field). La cancha is a basketball court with two soccer goals and it sits next to a street with cars constantly passing. I walked down there at nighttime with my new friend Dailyn. Dailyn looks like a combination of sporty spice and Beyoncé. Sporty spice describes her well, because the girl can play some futbol. As I am sitting here watching the kids play futbol, I notice the kid playing goalie. He is probably seven years old and the kid has ridiculous muscles for his size. He is blocking every shot that comes his way, and it’s coming from guys three times his size. After a few minutes, they stop playing and we make new teams. The little hoss was on my team. He came up to me and told me his name. Esteban. I immediately fell in love with him and his smile. I also had just met the future of Colombian soccer.
We played soccer and alI was right in the world. I somehow felt a sense of acceptance and belonging, even though I was a fish out of water.
One afternoon we went to talk to what our contact called, “the bad boys.” What the word ‘bad’ entails I don’t really know. It could be drugs or violence. Or both. Our contact said, “But if they don’t know, who is going to tell them?” So we split up into groups and headed off. After spending some time with these men, one of them started crying. They told us that just because of our presence, they felt peace. Simply by the fact that we were sitting with them, they felt the presence of the Lord.
Life this month has been nothing like I’ve ever known. Two sides of the neighborhood in constant war with each other. Gang members from one side kill gang members from the other side. Children are pouring out of our doorstep aching for love and affection.
How is it that God brought me to this place? How am I supposed to relate to gang members? What about the children who crawl into our laps crying because their mom hit them? How can this white girl waltz into this community and relate to anyone?
The answer is simple. Maybe it’s not about me and what I can bring to the table. Maybe it’s the simple truth that we all need Jesus. It’s the simple truth we need love and grace. Maybe we are here to bring a peaceful presence to these people’s lives. We are here to have open arms for those children who crawl into our laps, longing to feel gentleness and love.
If I had to pick a word to describe this month, I would pick the word humbled. It’s been an incredibly humbling experience living here. It’s been a blessing and privilege to experience a life so different from my own. As much as I don’t belong here, I have felt a sense of acceptance. For that I am so grateful.
I love Alex Rocha and his family. I love the kids that are constantly outside of our door, calling our names. I am thankful for our new friend JJ, who is constantly making us laugh and entertaining us with his musical abilities. JJ has given all of us nicknames. Not only does he call me Barbie, but so does my team and Alex’s family. There is also La Reina (Dani), Crucero (Brenna), La Mexicana (Misha), and pretty tin tin (Kathryn). I am thankful that for the first time in six months we can sleep in a room that has air-conditioning. I am thankful for my new friend Dailyn and for visits to la cancha. I am also thankful for little Esteban. I don’t see him often because he lives on the opposite side of town. But every time I do see him he smiles and hugs me. Lastly, I am thankful to have lived such a different life from my own.
So much good is being done here through Alex Rocha and his beautiful family. I ask that for you reading this back home that you pray for them. They are doing an incredible work here and are a light in this community. For the future racers coming here, you are in for a treat.
