The Day My Heart Broke

You've heard the term, today it happened to me. This morning was my first day volunteering at the orphanage. It's about a 2 mile walk from where I live. To get there I walk past poverty far worse than anything I could ever have imagined. There are homes smaller than an American bedroom, walls made out of dirt and sand, people without limbs begging on the side of a muddy dirt road. If my heart wasn't fully broken already, then it certainly was after I arrived at the orphanage.

It consisted of 2 classrooms each the size of a toolshed. There are about 35 children to fill the two inadequate classrooms. Before I got there, there was only one teacher to jump back and forth and teach two classes at once. Since arriving, I co-teach with another volunteer from the program, Jemma, who is from England. We work mostly on Math, and reading and writing in English. Although the majority of the work will be teaching, I am excited to clean up the yard so the kids actually have a place to run and play. There are also a few desks that are on the verge of collapse, I want to fix those ASAP.

On a lighter note, I'll mention the 'Dala Dala'. This is like the metro transit, only African style. It's quite exhilirating actually. It is a series of 15-passenger vans (each no less than 30 old) that they pack nearly twice the amount one would consider 'safe'. I fear for my life everytime I get on it, but that's what makes it fun. The driving here seems crazy and wreckless to me, but to the locals it's just normal. Everytime you cross the street you may as well flip a coin to see if you're going to make it to the other side safely. But don't worry Mom! I'll be ok...

I am finally settling in. So far I've been here 5 nights and slept in a different place each night. I am starting to really favor the homestay over the volunteer house. It's pretty wild over there. People are up 'til the wee hours of the morning and you have to get real scrappy if you want to eat enough food. At the homestay, I get the best of both worlds. Mama takes good care of me, and I can still go visit whenever I want (although it means getting on two dala dalas).

Overall I am thrilled by the way things have come together. When I got home today my body ached, and my heart hurt. I got home and fell into bed. I was overcome with a smile, because I knew for certain my first day took all the love I had to offer from me. I have also been able to talk to a handful of volunteers about my faith, and I've also encouraged my host family (who has gotten 'lazy') to start attending church services again. I was talking to the program coordinator about his beliefs. He says he is a weak Christian, and has trouble with giving to God. His view is that God has enough money. I was quietly frustrated, and thought 'how can you think you don't have to give to God'. I was reminded of 'whatever you do to the least of my people, you do unto me'. I went and read a note from one of my friends about how I'm not just serving others, but serving God. I'll end with a quote from Donald Miller in his book Blue Like Jazz.

"Can you imagine if Christians actually believed that God was trying to rescue us from our own self addiction? Can you imagine what Americans would do if they understood over half the world is living in poverty. If we believed the right things, the true things, there wouldn't be many problems on Earth."

I guess the coordinator was right, God DOES have enough money. He just leaves it up to you and me to make sure it gets where it needs to. I can now say I've seen the worst of the worst. I'm just thankful that I'm able to help.