messy stories.

We
often get asked why.

Why
we go on these crazy trips to countries people have never heard of.
Why we purposefully give up electricity, hot showers and good
food. Why we can’t find a normal job, and live a normal life. Why?

So,
here we go. Our answer from the last 3.5 months.

For
Jonathan. Whose father died
when he was 10 years old, leaving him with nine younger siblings. He
has not known a day off since because his family depends on him for
survival.

For
the nameless.
Who work 10 hour days in the dump gathering plastic bottles from the
piles of trash and walk away with 2.50$. One day Samantha found a
dead baby amongst the garbage.

For
Fabio.
Whose mother left him at home when he was an infant. The neighborhood kids would then come over and watch porn movies and imitate whatever they saw
on him.

For
Timmy. He watched his father die and his mother remarry.
Only to then find himself [literally] sleeping with the pigs because
his stepfather hated him.

For
Marco.
A man who is bedridden. He cannot walk. He cannot talk. His
sheets are stained from urine and a stench of rotting flesh
penetrates his room. The only visible movement comes from the trails
of gnats and ants that dine on his open sores.

For
Hector. Whose father is also his own grandfather. He was
thrown away; dropped off on the streets with nothing but the clothes
on his back.

For
Juan.
Who at the age of 5 already struggles with alcoholism.

For
Us.
Who are so thankful we get to live our lives loving these very people.