Posted by paxvox on March 9, 2003, at 14:53:04
In reply to Re: Bolivia, posted by lostsailor on March 9, 2003, at 8:54:54
Then I shall oblige. My church sent 8 of us, 5 ladies and 3 men, on a mission trip to Cochabamba, Bolivia where our congreagtion supports a missionary from our city (his wife's family goes to our church). The main objective was to help this small group of Bolivian natives to contunue work on the expansion of their church. There are few Protestant churches in Bolivia. Bolivia, like most South and Central American countries, is "culturally" Catholic, but the majority do not regulary attend any church. So, our group of 8 (initially, it was 13, but some "civil unrest" and a travel warning from the State Department, knocked us down to 8. We worked at the church along side of members of the congregation who were rotating assistance. The men would give up a day or so of work to WORK on their church. That was a great sacrifice for these men. The average Bolivian makes about $250 U.S. per year. Many of the congregation were Quechua, and only spoke "some" Spanish, and less English. Communicating with them was fun! We had some good times trying to figure out what we wanted to say to each other, However, communication is only about 22% words, so through body language, motions, grunts and noises, we were able to get by. One day,we didn't know this in advance, the missionary had us travel to a square or "park" in the middle of the city. Cochabamba has a population of about 600,000 people. In came these vans of native Quechua and other natives from other groups, mostly women and their children. All were dressed in native garb, which is very utilitarian as well as colorful (I LOVE the ladies' hats, look like derbies!). So they qued up, and we set up some tent-like structures. There, we bathed the children from head to toe, gave them some fresh clothing, and then a quick meal of a sandwich and some chocolate milk drink. These people had NOTHING but the clothes on their backs, but they were not as beggers. They humbly accepted our meager efforts, and went away a little happier (albeit until the next day, when they would have to worry about that meal). Although it was a big city, there was no obvious crime or violence, and unlike other Latin cultures I have visited, they did not hate us because we were from the U.S. 5% of Bolivians holkd 95% of the wealth in the country. There is no middle class to speak of. At one mission place we visited, we met children whose mothers were in prison. They would have gone to prison with them except for this one ministry that had a "school" for them. Here they were fed, kept clean and were educated. When they saw us drive up, they came running up to hug us. It was not because we were Americans who were going to give them something, but because they knew the missionary we were with, and knew his work. To see a child with NOTHING smile and laugh and want you to hold them and play with them was emotionally taxing. Although they had nothing of the world's riches, they knew about God. So, although they had nothing material, they had a knowledge of God's love, and therefore they had everything. How decadent I felt about our conspicuos consumption American capitalism at that moment. We throw away more food from one meal than these kids would normally have eaten in a week. Unfortuantely, there are worse off kids in the world. What did it do for me? What difference did I make? Maybe not much, maybe everything. I have been on 4 mission trips to Mexico, so I was not naive to foreign encounters. Each time I bring back so much more than I took with me. I thought I was going to "help some poor people" what I did was learn how much I have to be thanful for. I will never see the world the same again. We went up about 16,500 feet on Mt. Tunari on a day-trip to see the countryside. I cannot out into words the way I felt to see that raw, virgin land where the earth and sky seemed to come together. There was snow on the ground (it is summer in the Southern Hemisphere) and mist and clouds in the air. Llamas walked about w/o care or concern. The verdant hills thundered forward screaming their way skyward. I have never been so much at peace with myself and with God. It was a remarkable experience that put all the rest of this story into context. I went to a place that had nothing material, but everything spirtual. I went up a mountain, and found such joy. I may have come down physically, but I will never touch the earth again spirtually. Whenever I feel "blue", all I have to do now is think about those faces of the children, and those hills alive with untold spiritual forces. So much need, so many people. The harvest is ripe, but the workers are few.
PAX
poster:paxvox
thread:207215
URL: http://www.dr-bob.org/babble/social/20030308/msgs/207466.html