The dump.
My heart was not prepared as we all piled into the bed of a pick up truck to drive down to the dump to feed the workers.
My stomach was not prepared for the moment we pulled down the road and the instant smell of rot overtakes your entire bodysystem.
My soul was not prepared to hear who these “workers” actually were.
My life wasn’t prepared to be completely wrecked by the humility that followed the strength, dedication and hard work these people display everyday to keep themselves off the streets..
The dump.
The place where I accepted the privalge I have to be able to meet these incredible people to learn more about myself.
This month we had the pleasure of assisting another ministry in their feeding program at the local dump. I didn’t think too much into it when my team was assigned to go. We all piled into Jesse’s truck and headed out. We made multiple stops to pick up food before driving down the road that changed a piece of me.
I was complaining in my head on the way over there that they didn’t feed us enough before going. The breakfast wasn’t ready so all we ate was fruit and a piece of toast. Upon driving down this road, I became very grateful for not eating, when my entire body convulsed at the stench that filled the truck and my nostrils faster than I could process what was happening to me. I looked out the window and it was as if I had entered a completely different world. I was surrounded by mountains of rotting garbage, vultures and someone elses treasure.
As were pulling up to the mounds of a fresh delivery, Jesse starts telling us about the people we will meet. He speaks with such passion and love for them, explaining that these individuals have the most amazing work ethic he has ever met. They don’t work for the dump making a wage, but they do work there ever day, digging through piles and piles of trash to find whatever they can salvageable to sell. Whether it is plastics, metals or anything of value. In Hope’s of making at least $1.50 a day. Instead of sitting on a street corner begging for money to feed their families or to survive, they take pride in earning it.
My heart sank.
Wow did I feel like a horrible person, sitting in the back of this truck complaining about my hunger, when these people are spending their entire day sitting through my scraps I probably wanted because I had eaten too much and was full…
To dig that pit in my stomach a little deeper, Jesse tells us that the people waiting at the dump site, get thirds. Thirds? I was confused by this statement at first, knowing we were confused, he explains how there is a system. 1. The trash is put out at 4am, people on the street will dig through it for whatever they can find.
2. The dump trucks come to pick it up. They also don’t work for the dump, but take the time to do it so that they too can get dibs on anything accessible to sell.
3. THEN it is brought to the dump, where they get whatever is left over.
WHAT?!
Who am I to ever complain about the AC being too cold in the office, the holiday pay wasn’t enough, the drive to work is too long, that food wasn’t fulfilling enough!? My world was turned upside down and my heart broke.
Then I got to meet them! As I stepped out of the truck onto the mush and bouncy mountain of trash I cringed. These “mountains” were not always here. It’s just years and years of trash piled on top of generations of work of families trying to support themselves. They all stopped working and started to migrate to us. We set up our small table of food and drinks. They came up to wash out their empty bleach containers, and tins they found that would then transform into their drinking cup or plate. They used the water to rinse their hands and get into line.
Children, teenagers, mothers, father, grandparents all gathered to hear a brief message to fill their souls and fill their bellies with the little we could provide. They were so sweet, polite and appreciative. Jesse comes here twice a week and it truly is a blessing to them, but also a privilege and blessing to anyone who comes to volunteer and help serve. We were in and out of there so fast, it felt like I blinked and was back in the comfort of our precious farm.
I couldn’t stop thinking about these people. I couldn’t help but feel convicted of the waste I contribute, the amount of times I complain and the numerous times I take advantage of the opportunities I am so blessed to have. I don’t think this experience was meant to make me feel bad, condemned or ungrateful. But it was an opportunity to remember to hold tight to the blessings I do have and be grateful for that. When you live in a place like the United States, you hear stories, you see pictures or films that bring it to your attention. But in all honesty, I don’t think I allowed myself to believe that people live this way until I saw it and heard their stories. Yes I am privileged, but what I do with that is more important!
I was blessed with the opportunity to return to the dump before leaving Nicaragua and I almost didn’t go. I am so happy I did though. I was able to learn from the first experience, I was able to brush off the initial shock, I was able to invest in the people, pray over them, ask them their names, pour into them and love on them the way they deserved! By far the most impactful, realistic and practice ministry! This program is amazing!
