How Many Gringos Can You Stuff In a Van?

18.

The van is built for 12, but with creative seating we can pick up and drop off a busload of folks. Which we did at the beginning and end of the day. While it’s plenty exciting (scream-worthy), we got there and back safely.

Today was our first real ‘work’ day at LaLimonada. We had a dental clinic setting up at one of the schools, shopping, some home visits, and the plan nearest my heart: scoping out a couple construction projects for the newest classroom. After we arrived at the ghetto, we made our way to the school. The roads stop about 1/4 of the way into the ravine; after that it’s all foot or motorbike traffic. The team unloaded at the parking area, then we carried all supplies by 2-legged mule to the school. It’s only a few ‘blocks’ in distance, over the sewage ravine on a narrow concrete bridge, past a pack of guys huffing glue, up a hill, and to the nicest building in the area. It’s quite modest, but for the neighborhood it’s bordering on lovely.

From here, this will be my perspective – there are lots and lots of stories from today, from pulling teeth and feeding children, playing games and generally being the Love of God in a practical way. But those stories are others’ to tell. There’s enough material to fill up a book – and that’s just today. There are pictures of this neighborhood on this very blog, as well as on Lemonade International’s and lots of other sites. Still, it’s nearly impossible to appreciate from a photo. The scope, size, depth, and smell of the place simply does not translate. Here’s a shot from a bridge over the ghetto, it gets a portion of the mile long scar in the city.

After we loaded the supplies in for our school (dental equipment, school supplies, and gifts from the States), David and I (the “construction guys”) headed out to the site that needed some new windows. We walked the 5 minutes up the alleys to the tin shack which is serving as a classroom for the older kids.

Monica, the teacher, led us into the courtyard of the school. The building consists of a little bathroom behind a shower curtain, a courtyard with no roof, and a 20′ square classroom. The entire thing is made of corrugated tin and rough 2×4′s. Power is distributed via a pair of skinny wires draped from alley post to building post to switch to bare light bulbs. There’s no ventilation, and in the summer daytime it’s impossible for the students to focus. So we’re going to cut some window hatches that can be secured at night – every space that can be entered will, and everything of any value stolen. More on the actual project tomorrow, when we get to do the work.

From there, we were hoping to go buy supplies, but got rerouted to the grocery run instead. David and I went with our driver, Leah, to the local version of Sam’s Club. We met Tita and a few of her assistants, and set out to get some supplies. Each of us took a big flat cart – 7 carts total. I wondered about the wisdom of this, since we spent a half hour following the people with the lists around with empty carts. But when they started filling up, they REALLY filled up. We had crates of chips, spaghetti, oatmeal, juice, meat, and other sundries. This was the food for both schools in the ghetto – for a month. We made our way to the checkout after a couple hours of rounding up food. The checker and two helpers jumped to ringing up the order, but it still took over an hour to get through the line. The bill amounted to about 24,000 Quetzales (equivalent of $3,000 US), and distributed the boxes between two vans. Here’s Tita’s van loaded down with supplies for Mandarina.

From there we returned to the school to load in the boxes at Limon, where our dental clinic was underway. Dr. John and his team were busy caring for kids, pulling teeth, and provided toothbrushes – and more care. The kids soaked up hugs like mad. We had lunch of sammiches that the team made Sunday night, and split the team into two groups to go on home visits. We went to Michael’s sponsored family, and visited with the mom – his sponsor child (9 years old) was out selling fruit to help support the family. Mom shared some prayer requests, and we prayed together and exchanged some gifts. Around the corner and up the hill we stopped at Alicia’s home, one of the children my family sponsors. After a brief introduction, she ran up and hugged me – it was so joyful! This scene was repeated dozens of times over the day, with sponsors meeting their children – in person, with hugs, tears, and smiles.

While there was abundant joy, it was wrenching to see the living conditions. Some homes were masonry or concrete construction, some were tin shacks on uneven concrete or dirt. Some were spartan but tidy, some were utter squalor, full of flies and stink. All were dark. Utter heartbreak to see little children running about, knowing nothing of carpet or their own bedroom, glass windows, heat or air conditioning, or even a fridge in the kitchen in most cases. Nevermind luxuries like an occasional shower or bath.

From our brief visit and prayer with Alicia and her family (her little brother asked us to pray for his pets and friends), the construction team again parted ways with the main team. We climbed the 125+ steps out of the ghetto to get to street level. Here’s the view from halfway up. Limon School is the pink building in the middle of the photo.

When we reached the street level, we waited for Tita to take us for construction materials. When she arrived, we hopped in and started into town, stopping frequently to chat with students and former students. We paused longer than usual with one group of uniformed kids, and I heard Tita say, “Yes, he’s right here!” Turns out the student was Daniel, the other child my family sponsors! If I believed in coincidence, this would be a doozy. His mother and sister were there as well – it was an incredibly happy surprise for all of us.

On the way from there, Tita remarked, “I don’t want to get used to miracles.” She said she sees them often – even daily, in the feeding of so many children at the schools. I asked, “Did sponsor money pay for those groceries today?” She said yes. I was overcome with emotion, suddenly feeling a part of the miracle. The chores of picking up groceries, carrying boxes and paying large sums of money (she did this anyway, before there was an organization of support) – suddenly it transformed from an ominous task to a privilege. Isn’t it miraculous that so many people care about kids they’ve never met (in most cases), and that you can feed 300 children per day for about 10 cents each?

I think it’s pretty freakin’ cool.

We returned to LaLimonada with construction supplies in time to catch the end of a game of Ultimate Frisbee the team had underway with the kids. The field, which is impossible to see from the school even though it’s a block away, has a surface similar to that of the moon. Rocks, gravel, and about 4″ of dust. Very playable though, it turns out!

After the games, we walked back from the school. Most of us were human monkey bars, and I was never without a youngster on my back or arms.

Pretty cool day if you ask me. 5 to go!

-Gerritt

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