This morning began slowly, as we were all somewhat groggy after staying up to celebrate the new year. However, after some coffee and good food, we were awake and ready for the day.
After breakfast, we had free time and took a short car ride to a neighboring beach, Roca Mar. We enjoyed some coconuts and chips & guacamole. While we were there, we met up with a local who is a teacher at the mission base! He had a few surf boards and taught us the basics of surfing, such as padding and balancing on the board (This was my first time ever experiencing anything related to surfing).
I have to say, there is something about sitting on a surf board, get floated up and down, balancing as the waves swirl around that brought me such peace and an overwhelming sense of calmness. I believe these emotions stem from the unity to the earth and the feeling of being deeply connected to power of the ocean. I find that moments like these are incredibly grounding and help quiet my heart & mind so that I may listen more intently to the things that truly matter.
In the afternoon, we enjoyed another meal and loaded into a van going to Rio Grande, a city about 20 minutes from where we are staying. The purpose of this trip was to preform home visits for two people in this city that the clinic provides assistance too. We split into two groups, and I went with Fay, Randy, Anya, Brooke and Eddie. We visited a man named Ernesto and in the hour that we spoke (mostly translated through Eddie) we learned a portion about his story. Ernesto is a double amputee. He lives in poverty inconceivable to many of us back in the states. His bed is made of sticks. He has no fridge. He has no ability to make money. He gets 50 pesos every 2 months from the government. That is less than $25. Every morning, gets himself out of bed with an intricate networking of string and wheels himself in his old, barely functioning wheel chair to the super market. There he asks for money for food, or food itself. Normally, he only gets about 15 pesos, but sometimes, the kind woman down the street will give him tamales. He has a friend who comes every other day to help him, but he revealed his friend has a drinking problem. He told us that he has three daughters, but he has not spoken to them in over 13 years. I could go on, but hopefully you are getting the picture. Every story he told about his life was full of pain, heartache and tragedy. As I looked around at my peers during this conversation I saw his pain reflected in their eyes and we were all filled with deep sadness and desperation. It was hard to know what to say to him, as comments like “things will get better,” or “change will come soon,” were fruitless and most likely untrue, so mostly we just listened. However, despite how little Ernesto had, he offered us the only food he had in his house, bananas. At first we didn’t understand what he was offering, but when we did, I think it is safe to say all of us were somewhat awestruck. Here before us, was a man with nothing, not even the ability to walk, and he is offering to us everything he has. To say that moment was humbling, does not properly do it justice.
Ernesto’s story is one I still have to process and ponder as it continues to leave a deep mark on my heart, so potentially more to come.
Leaving this encounter, Eddie, Brooke and I discussed our unrest about what we had seen. Each of us experiencing different emotions and having different thoughts, but all of us feeling deeply moved by what we had seen.
The truth is, I find myself haunted by the question of “what can we do, what can I do,” and I have no idea how to answer that. I hope one day, I can get closer to a solution.
The evening concluded with a wonderful dinner and fellowship. I have mentioned it before, but these moments together, talking about what we have seen, discussing our personal stories and histories and wrestling with these deep questions— it is such treasured and irreplaceable time.