Day Two-The Dirty Work

6/19/2011

I haven’t ached this much since I took my four hour long (only a 2 minute break, and no drink breaks) black belt test.  My calves, back, hands, fingers, and shoulders hurt like never before and my hands are blistered.  Yesterday, we went a half hour away to a feeding center on Foot’s Hill, by infamous NASCAR driver, Richard Leister!  He claims he has a Guatemalan driver’s license; well, he drives dangerously fast over rough terrain, dodges other vehicles coming directly at him, and doesn’t make sure all his passengers are wearing seatbelts.  He surely does have a Guatemalan license!  Drivers here are worse than drunk American drivers.  The road to Foot’s Hill was mostly unpaved, was constantly steep, and wet.  Imagine riding in the back seat of a boxy 13 passenger van, all of which were praying, with an old deaf man fish-tailing on skinny, wet, mountainous roads.  After we finally got as far as we could go , we walked up a littered dirt road surrounded by free running chickens, cows, gorses, and diseased dogs which I resisted petting.  Our jobs at the feeding center were to build steps into the hill, and add more space to their “soccer field” by leveling off this here cliff.  We did this by loosen to dirt and rocks with a pick, hoeing it down, and shoveling it into wheel barrows from 10 A.M. to 3:30 P.M. with a half hour lunch break. Owies!

I obviously hate this kind of mission work.  I'm a 107 lb bag of wuss, and I feel like my body could best be used elsewhere, than feeling useless compared to everyone else who were much more productive.  But at the same time, I was doing what I loved; helping people.  I don't care if I still ache three days later and sweat like a pig (I hate sweating) and am so bored I'm naming the worms I find in the dirt.  I'm doing what God wants me to do--

and this isn't just an optimistic Christian viewpoint I guilt trip myself into saying.  I hated what I was doing, and even though I didn't get to see the outcome, I sincerely am glad I did it.
And then I remember all my friends who asked why I wanted to go to a third-world country for 7 weeks, and told me they would never have the guts to do what I'm doing.  Open your eyes.  There are children eating worms in dumpsters and who have never had a stuffed animal.  It costs $24 a month to clothe, feed, and educate them.  I understand that not everyone is called to be a missionary, but we are called to love each other and have compassion.