Friday, June 27, 2008

Day 7:The Dump

And I thought yesterday was difficult. Today we stopped by the grocery store and bought dozens of bags of bread, jars of peanut butter and jelly, and bags of water (the cheapest way to buy them; just imagine the contents of a water bottle poured into a sealed sandwich bag) to take to the dump. When I say dump, I mean like a landfill. Acres upon acres of trash piled sky high. The smell? Just take a whiff of your kitchen trash and multiply that by millions. The flies? Same thing. The vultures? Flocks upon flocks of them, probably almost as many as the flies. Why then, you would ask, would we be taking peanut butter and jelly sandwiches and servings of water to this place? For the people that live there. Never have I seen a situation so desperate, so primal, and so disgusting as hundreds of people calling a landfill their home, a place where they fought vultures for decaying piles of spaghetti, the women dressed like men so as not to draw unwanted attention to themselves, glue was bought before food to eliminate the hunger pains, and everyone rushed to the incoming dump truck to start digging through the new trash. As Steph and I were getting the meals together to hand off the back of the bus, I saw the faces lined up, covered in dirt, some in masks (skin diseases, flies, not sure?), hunger-hollow eyes, all eager for a full, maggot-free meal. I could barely stomach the smell, let alone the idea that this is what these people called their lives. Nothing could have prepared me for what I witnessed today, and it is still difficult to write about it. There was desperation in my heart as I tried to think how God could allow this amount of suffering to take place, a method of survival so humiliating and raw. I wanted to change it right then and there, put the people on the bus and get them out. That however, wasn't going to solve anything. This is what they knew, many of them for probably all their lives…they were making a few cents here and there by recycling plastic bottles and tin cans; the trash they ate in, slept in, lived in, was their source of income. I still believe there is a reason for everything, and I know that what I witnessed today will never leave my mind, I will always have images engraved in my conscience, and I will always be tempted to throw a full bag of chips or a couple cans of soda in the garbage knowing it would make someone's day at the dump to find an unopened bag of food. I pray that God will continually remind me of how bad it could be, and that the people living at the dump can look to God in their dire circumstances and find solace in Him. I don't know if I can effectively relay to you the reality of the dump through pictures, but it is worth a shot. I didn't get a chance to take any pictures, so I need to borrow some from Lorie, so hopefully i can put those up soon.

1 comment:

Jessica said...

Annie,
you have successfully made me cry in EVERY one of your posts. I am so proud of you and the circumstances that you are voluntarily putting yourself in everyday. They will change you. God is changing you right now and I can already see it through your words. When I read your posts I think of myself on my first trip to Honduras. It was overwhelming and I had the same desire to "fix" everyone's problems. I am so glad that you and Paul got to go on this trip.
Love,
Jessica