When someone says the word “home”, what are some of the words that go through your head? For me they are relaxation, safe, peaceful, joyful, quit, rest, beautiful, family and so much more. Home is the place where I go after I have had a hard day and find rest. It’s a place where I can always expect things to be clean and tidy, a place that I can find food any hour of the day and where the people that rank the highest in my life are always there. A person’s home should be a safe haven and place where you can find peace of mind. But, in the dump of Tegusegulpas Honduras, calling your home a safe haven would be the last words you would use to describe it. Telgusigulps dump is home to about 2,000 people in Honduras and growing. It is also place where cattle, horses, stray dogs and vultures call their home.
The smell is so bad that even the people that have lived there for years are still not used to the smell. They wear bandanas and masks to shield their nose and mouths.
It’s a place where death, oppression, and hopelessness linger in the every eye you see. It’s a place where the people are never too good to eat leftover food in the trash for a meal. It’s a place where the highlight of a person’s day could be when a new load of trash comes in and hope springs up in their hearts because that they could possibly find something to sell for a profit.
The smell and reality hit me all at the same time when we stepped out of the van and tears began to run down my face. A question entered in to one of my squad mates heads “God, how do we even begin being to be your hands and your feet in a place like this”? The “Christian thing” to do is to say “Jesus loves you and is watching over you in your suffering”, but the response you would get from many of them would be a few not so nice words and a harden heart. So how do you approach people whose lives are waking up to trash day in and day out?
HAVE A DANCE PARTY!!!!!
That’s right you heard me a dance party.
So living in Central America you will find out very fast that being on time is just out of the question, so you must always be prepared to fly by the seat of your pants and just play it by year. The bus that was supposed to be picking us up at 12 but arrived at about 1 so we had an hour to fill.
As I was walking up to the hill to be with the rest of my squad I saw 3 boys that were listing to some music so I went over and asked if I could also listen. A few minutes went by and the next thing I knew I was up “Dropping it like it was hot” and dancing for Jesus! The boys thought that it was absolutely hilarious so of course they encouraged me to keep going and acting even sillier. What started off as 3 boys watching me make a fool of myself became 70 people crowded around me! “Bailar! Bailar! Bailar!” they yelled (which means “dance” in Spanish). Laughter and shouts of joy filled the dump and people crowded around to see what all the ruckus was. All of a sudden a boy from the crowed stepped out into the circle and began to challenge me to a dance competition! So you can only image who won (haha). In Jeremiah 30:13 it says, “the young women will dance for joy, and the men–old and young–will join in the celebration. I will turn their mourning into joy. I will comfort them and exchange their sorrow for rejoicing!” What better way to be Jesus hands and feet in that moment than to move them in the rhythm of song. At that moment I realized that God did not calls us to bring food, money or clothing to them at that time, but only joy and happiness of our risen king!
In that moment there was a community built, there was freedom to let loose and enjoy life, there was opportunity to feel normal for once, and there was a glimmer of Hope that everyone felt that day.
