My hammock swinging, sunset admiring, island living paradise is officially over.
So long Central America!
This month I am living in a squatter village of San Buena in the slums of the Philippines.
Home Sweet Home…San Buena, Philippines. (photo cred: the amazing Amanda Grimwood)
The first day we arrived, I think "completely shell shocked" is the only way to describe it.
Not only because I realized that this tiny shack made of concrete blocks and sheets of plastic is where I would be living for a month, but because I realized that this is where people ACTUALLY live.
The poverty here is terrifying.
These people need so much and I am overwhelmed at how helpless I feel most days. A lot of families can’t afford to feed their own children. We helped serve food at a feeding station and most of the kids brought plastic bags for us to ladle stew into because they didn’t even own a plate.
On our first day of ministry we helped run a Bible study that was organized by the community church. We were led down a dank and dark alleyway where we arranged broken plastic chairs in a circle. There were little kids crying without any pants on, filthy puddles of cloudy water to avoid, roosters crowing and mangy cats crawling out of holes in the walls. The woman sitting next to me had flies crawling on an open sore on her foot and the laundry drying on lines above us dripped down onto my Bible.
Bible study in an alleyway. (photo cred: Amanda Grimwood)
..I’m not going to lie…I was uncomfortable.
I tried to smile and look calm, but inside I was panicking and fighting the urge to run away.
The funny thing about actually living in this community is that there is nowhere to escape to.
"Mommy" Thelma's house.
We are living a tiny house with our “Mommy Thelma” and her three kids. Needless to say, it’s a bit crowded. Most days there is nothing I wouldn’t give to just have a room to myself with a lock on the door. Unfortunately for me, their entire house is one room. The all-in-one living/dining and bedroom has been taken over by our giant packs …There is a bathroom in one corner of the room with a toilet that flushes by dumping a bucket of water into the bowl…the same bucket that we use to take “showers”
I constantly remind myself of how lucky we really are. I have seen too many people going to the bathroom in the gutter to complain about a toilet without a seat on it.
Our new family has been so amazing. For having next to nothing, they have blown us away by their generosity and kindness. They are so excited to have us spend Christmas with them. We were sitting around one afternoon talking missing Christmas, so Thelma’s son-in-law Carlos crafted us a “Christmas tree” out of empty water bottles. We decorated it in paper chains and snowflakes and twinkling lights…it might not smell like a pine, but I’ve got to say it’s beginning to look a lot like Christmas around here. Martha Stewart would be proud.
Oh Christmas Tree!
One night last week we attended a youth group at the community church. I told the kids the story of Shadrach, Mechach and Abednego (we had to spend 10 minutes going over the spelling of the names, I should have picked something easier)
Afterwards, we broke into small groups for prayer.
I sat and prayed with an eight year old boy named Alexander. He prayed one of the most beautiful and heartfelt prayers I had ever heard. He thanked God for everything he had, and then he begged God that the rest of his family would come to know Jesus like he did.
Alexander!
I think I came into this community wondering how I could ever relate to these people.
Here was a perfect example…
A eight year old boy living in a squatter house in the Philippines – I should have literally NOTHING in common with him…but then I realized that we have been praying the exact same prayers for our families to the exact same God every night.
We have EVERYTHING in common…I could feel my tears welling up.
This kid could have prayed and asked God for a million different things…and who could blame him? He barely has a home to call his own. But somehow in his young mind he knew that knowing Jesus was more important.
The feeling of not being able to meet people’s physical needs is overwhelming.
I desperately want to help and make a difference in this community, but Alexander brought me back to the fact that the only real measure of poverty is whether or not you know Jesus Christ.
Sometimes I hate living here.
I am miserable, uncomfortable and desperately missing the comforts of home…but living here among these people has made me realize that no matter where you you live, we are ALL in desperate need of Jesus.
I don’t know how I would get through the days here without Him.
So do I miss my hammock by the lake?
Yep. Everyday.
But somehow I already know that this month is going to change me in ways that swinging in that Nicaraguan hammock could never do.
…And I already know that it is going to be a harder to say goodbye than last month.
So to everyone at home – MERRY CHRISTMAS!!
I miss and love you all so much!!
Don’t forget to be thankful this year – SO thankful – for what you already have.
And I know it is a cliche phrase, but never EVER forget that Jesus really is the reason for the season.
xox,
Laura.
