Garbage Dump

Yes, ladies and gentlemen, this post is entitled garbage dump.

Treci had an absolute barking fit at 6:40 this morning.  I don't know what she was upset about, but it was intense.  Thankfully, I was able to get back to sleep and enjoy sleeping in.  I did a lot of chores and stuff this morning and worked on packing up a bit, sorting out what I'm leaving here and what I'm taking.  Lunch was rice, beets, broccoli, and patties that I think were beef with some carrots thrown in.  It tasted good at first, but the patty was kind of hard to finish.

One of the long-term vounteers, Ashley, attends a church that has a ministry to the people who live in the neighborhood adjacent to the dump.  Ashley organized an outing to take some of the older kids from the orphanage to help out with a Saturday afternoon Sunday school class her church puts on at the neighborhood and invited all the others volunteers to go as well.  Did I want to go to a Peruvian garbage dump?  Heavens, no!  Did I think I should?  Yes, I did.  It seemed like an opportunity I wouldn't have again anytime soon, and I don't think we should approach poverty with an ignorance is bliss type of attitude.  So that is how I, the Queen of Clean, found myself on the way to a Peruvian garbage dump.

We left the orphanage and drove to Ashely's church, where we picked up 4 women from the church who organize the Sunday school and some of our HdE people who were already in town.  Then we drove all the way across Trujillo.  At the point where it changed from just usual South American poverty to an area that looked noticeably more impoverished, there was a big walk-over over the highway, and it made me think of Monroe, where when you cross from the "good" part of town to the "bad" part of town on Hwy. 165, there's that big walk-over that no one uses.  Of course, this looked much worse than that part of Monroe, but the parallel really struck me.

We stopped at a little park where some kids were playing, and I thought, "Oh, this looks kind of dirty but not too bad.  This won't be nearly as bad as I thought."  No, we picked up the kids and kept on driving.  Apparently these kids live in the last Trujillo neighborhood before the one by the dump and come to the Sunday school every week, so we were just giving them a ride.  We passed a school (more on that later) and a prison and then we were in the neighborhood.  I had thought we were going to set up shop in the actual dump itself, so it was better than what I had been mentally preparing myself for.  One of the women we picked up from the church was older and sat next to me on the bus for a while.  She didn't say a word, and neither did I, probably mostly because I was very uncomfortable with the whole situation.

We got off the bus, and I really didn't want to touch anything or anyone.  I know that's selfish and unkind, but I'm just being really honest.  I help set out some stools for seating at the "church", which was a 12ft. by 12ft. concrete slab with 2 bamboo walls and a bamboo roof that touched my head in some spots.  I figured stools couldn't be too dirty.  As much as I wanted to give the kids hugs, I really didn't want to touch any of these people.

Yeah, well, God has a funny sense of humor sometimes.  I started playing tag with some little boys and a couple of volunteers.  I knew this would mean having to touch the little boys' shirts but I figured I could deal with that.  A 5-year-old was chasing me, and I was running backwards so as to face him while I ran from him, and I tripped on a rock and fell on my back.  Yes, my coordination followed me to Peru.  After laying in the sand and rocks, touching things or people didn't seem like such a big deal.  I'm a little sore, but nothing was broken or cut, so I'm fine.  Poorly balanced, but fine.  And that lady who rode next to me on the bus and didn't talk?  Yeah, she was laughing her head off at me.

The Sunday school opened with some songs, then a Bible story (John the Baptist baptizing Jesus),  and a memory verse.  Then we gave the kids the rest of the cupcakes from our baking classes and some water and soda.  Apparently, the orphanage got a lot of donations at Christmas, more than they thought the kids needed as gifts, so we took some of them today to give to the kids at the Sunday school.

There was an older woman who came to Sunday school, and the oldest boy from our orphanage sat with her and helped her.  When she left, he followed her and gave her his baseball cap.  We're all so proud of him.  He wears that cap a lot, and I know he'll really miss it.

The neighborhood looked like every picture you see on flyers for Compassion International and other child sponsorship programs.  Exactly like it.  It was almost surreal being there.  How did it impact me?  I don't know yet.  It will take me a while to process.

One of the girls from our group used to live in that neighborhood with the little park where we first stopped to pick up the 3 kids.  She saw two women she knew, and she had attended that school we passed.  We drove all the way back across Trujillo to the orphanage.

I had leftover pizza for dinner and some mazamorra morada that Filomena had left for us.  That's purple corn pudding.  Then Kelly and I went jewelry shopping.  Several people had sent us with money to buy things made by certain kids.  Now we're hanging out in our room talking, and obviously, I'm updating the blog.

I love you, and I think you're pretty.