Monday, September 12, 2011

humbled.

today was a day. one of those days that starts just not right.

samil has been sick. mami, estoy malito. my belly hurt. and his fever is through the roof. amely is asleep on our, cold, hard ceramico because she got kicked out of our bed twice last night for being annoying. it can't be comfortable on that floor, though it might be better than sleeping in your brother's pee. because, yes, after two years accident free, the poor boy has peed himself three times in the past two days.

por supuesto, the only class-group i have problems with is the only class i have on mondays, and today was typical. attitude, reluctance. i could do somersaults off the balcony, land on a horse and sing opera and still get nothing from these kids.

the day only got worse i tried to make the kids doctor's appointments and figure out the insurance lio for amely's tubes. it's a huge mess.

then, i met up with some korean friends and some friends of theirs. frustration times six million, because no matter how hard i try to learn that coreano, it escapes me.

they were taking me to see their new mission center in one of the poorest neighborhoods in santiago. cienfuegos. the land of one hundred fires. nowadays, gunfire. because poverty breed violence. and there is not much more poor than cienfuegos.

i've been around. we have amigos who live there, a wonderful panaderia that sells excellent tres leche cake. not to mention the packs of students who actually walk the 45 minutes a day to attend amalio's school. but this.

this i had never experienced.
(and i wish i could show you in pictures, but even that wouldn't do it justice).

wooden skeletons, waiting. un poco de esperanza. a hope that on most days probably seems futile. board by board, building up the house. every time an extra peso comes around, another plank, another nail. another piece of hope. families living in one bedroom. one bed. no bathroom. no privacy.

further down the road, by the acueducto canal, a boy, in old underpants and rubber chancletas beat clothes against a rock; mami wringing and rinsing, taking care of the baby, naked with a bobo in her mouth.

it was hot today. hotter than normal. people sat outside, in the little shade. in front of their one bedroom shacks. some swept their small patch of land. sadness in their eyes, but each time we stopped

hope.

that esperanza because they have been remembered. we are not alone in the world.

today was not a bad day. i just needed a reminder. it's not bad. we have esperanza. for the future, hope. and the ability to share that hope. today humbled me in a way i have not been in a long time. thank you, universe.



1 comment:

Reb said...

Thanks. Beautiful heart. I love what your eyes see.