Duchesa (the "Dump Village") | Amanda

It's one thing to hear about poverty; it's another to see it through your own two eyes. 

Saturday, March 16, 2013 - It was a regular Saturday to start off with. We spent the morning tutoring at Ina's like we've done every other weekend. It wasn't the morning that affected me, but the afternoon that followed. As soon as we were finished at Ina's, we hopped on a bus and headed to a place called Ducasa, aka, "The Dump Village". The question is probably circulating through your head, "What's the dump village?" Well, it's a village made out of a dump…literally. It's a place where the poorest of the poor in Santo Domingo live. People who could afford next to nothing started a village within the Santo Domingo garbage dump. They use things that come in with the garbage trucks to make their homes.

We had been told the night before that we'd be heading to the Dump Village, so it wasn't as if it took us completely by surprise; plus we'd experienced a little poverty before so we were sort of used to it. I took the 24 hours to think about what was ahead of us. My initial expectations for myself were that I would break down and be out of control with my emotions. But, like many other experiences I've had in the DR, I've learned time and time again that you can't always assume that something's going to happen, because half the time it goes the complete opposite direction than what you expected.

The first sightings of the dump brought instant shock to me. There was literally garbage everywhere. I guess that should've been expected; after all, it is a garbage dump. As we were driving along finding a place to park and get out, my eyes wandered throughout the place. Beneath the bus were pop bottles, squished plastic cups, broken pairs of flip flops, thrown away paper, and any other item someone might throw away. Beside me were hills, not made up of dirt and grass, but made up of filled garbage bags and loose, useless materials . All I could think about was how disgusting I was as a person. Seeing all that garbage made me realize that there's an 100% chance that some of the stuff I've used while being in the DR has definitely ended up here. The hardest realization of that was that my thrown away items ended up in someone else's home.

We pulled into the village, and as expected, it wasn't at all glamorous. It's not the typical city you'd see back in North America. The streets were made up of dirt and mud. Houses were made up of tin and scrap materials the garbage trucks would bring in over time. Homes were all squished together. Young kids were running everywhere unsupervised, some of them stopping to talk to us, who are complete strangers to them. Some might perceive it as a chaotic mess, other's might see it as beautiful. I saw it as a little bit of both. I was nervous stepping off the bus at first though. I didn't exactly feel thrilled about touching and interacting with dirty kids. What if I got sick? It didn't take me long to realize once again how selfish I can be. The moment I stepped off the bus, a nine year old girl Elisabeth reached for my arm and didn't leave my side the entire day. Her loving touch changed my heart instantly to be more compassionate, not judgmental.

We all followed Rachael towards the village's church. It was a small, one roomed building cramped between numerous other little buildings. We found kids and brought them there to play with and make crafts with. It didn't take long to recruit kids at all. As soon as white people show up, everyone wants to see them. They all treat us like celebrities here; everyone wanting their turn to hug you, talk to you, play with you, or just sit by you. The time spent in the church was a beautiful time spent with the locals of this village. All the kids were so excited to participate in the craft. We brought paper plates and crayons for them to make "fish" out of and it just seemed to brighten their spirits. They were all itching for their own crayons and all concentrating perfectly to make sure they were doing it just right. They loved when we would help them out and colour a little bit of it themselves so they'd feel proud of their accomplishments in the end. When the craft session died down, we began just playing with all the kids. Some of us girls got our hair "braided", some of the guys started dancing with the kids & others went off to start a baseball game, which we all eventually joined in on. I think it was the walk to the "baseball field" that hit me the most. For starters, it wasn't at all an actual field. It was just an open area in the middle of the dump that was big enough to play a game of baseball on. To get to the field, we had to walk over a small hill. I was walking up it with three young girls beside me. I looked down at my feet and my heart sank a little. Beneath me were shoes, glass, metal, and endless amounts of garbage. I carefully placed my feet as I walked making sure not to step on something or lose my balance. As I glanced at the shoes covering my feet, I noticed out of the corner of my eye that some of the kids I was walking with didn't even have a pair of sandals to cover theirs with. Sometime's I'd carry them in fear of them cutting themselves. Other times, I'd guide them so they'd only step where it was safe. As long as they didn't get hurt, I was okay.

The rest of my afternoon was spent sitting with 4 or 5 nine year old girls, Elisabeth included, watching the locals and international block kids play baseball. With the little Spanish I knew, I did my best to get to know them better and carry on a conversation with them. I shared many laughs with them and developed a love for each girl. Elisabeth and I already had a closer bond, having spent the last hour and a half colouring together.

Saying goodbye was a sad moment for me. I didn't want to leave all the beautiful kids; they were so fun to hang around. Before climbing on the bus, I hugged and kissed all the girls I was just with. Some of the other kids saw the love I was giving and wanted some for themselves, so they joined in on my sappy little goodbyes with me. I noticed someone was missing though - Elisabeth. I turned to her friends and asked where she was. They replied, "La casa" (her house). I never got to say goodbye to my sweet little girl and I haven't been able to go back to see her since.

When we got back to the base, I spent a little time by myself reminiscing on my day. Like I said, my emotions were the complete opposite of what I had been expecting. I realized that for the majority of the day, I had been happy. I saw love, I felt love. I spread love, & I received love. It was a day filled with happiness and love, nothing more and nothing less. It wasn't until circle time with the group that night where the poverty fully hit me. Talking about our day with everyone and hearing sad stories from others in the group triggered back the memories of walking over the hills with kids in bear feet. I remember vividly still the dirty streets, the mud the kids splashed through and the bare foot girls. I heard kids talking about people with infected sores on the bottom of their feet that prevented them from walking. I thought about what the village looked like and imagined; what would it be like looking up at a garbage bag roof as you close your eyes to sleep at night and waking up to the sight of fresh garbage piles out your window the next morning? This was when my emotions went crazy, but still in a different direction than expected. I was angry; probably angrier than I'd ever been before. My head filled up with questions that are still in need of some answers. Why? Why was I so fortunate to be placed in a wealthy North American family home when these kids are thrown into poverty? Why do I get shoes to wear on my feet and they don't? Why do I get soap and water to clean my feet, but these kids get infected sores that prevent them from taking a single step? Why does the Dominican government not take the money they have to give it's citizens a healthy environment to live in? Why am I guaranteed three meals a day and some of these people aren't necessarily guaranteed one? Does God not see this? He's the creator of all the beautiful souls living in that village; does He not love them? He can fix poverty faster than we can snap our fingers; what's stopping him? I've grown up in an incredibly wealthy country and have never been fully satisfied. I've been selfish and greedy; never satisfied with what I have and always wanting more. These kids barely get anything and are the happiest, most loving kids I've ever met in my life. Life's completely backwards. Does God not see this? Does God not care that so many people are forced to starve each night? Does He just sit back and watch life go by, or is He actually in control? I had so many kids reaching for me as I walked by just begging for some love because they don't receive it in their own homes. There's kids going to sleep with an empty stomach, without a loving Father governing their house and without a loving lullaby. There's parents not caring for their children. There's children losing the love they need growing up, turning them into cold-hearted adults. What's God doing? Some of those kids could be life changers in the rest of the world; why doesn't He give them that opportunity? They're all innocent, but as soon as they're born into poverty they're automatically written off as not important. Why? I just don't understand what His plan is in all of this. Is there really a logical explanation behind all of this?

All these questions circulated over and over again through my head. I thought endlessly about the people I had interacted with and thought back and forth between their lives here and the life I know in Canada. Whenever I've interacted with young kids, I've always assumed they have a home with two loving parents and food to fill their stomachs. 99.9% of the time, I've always been right. Here, I never know what to assume. Do these kids have two lovings parents, or any parents? My little girl, Elisabeth - does she have anything to eat tonight? Does she have a comfortable bed to sleep on? Is someone taking care of her? I never saw where she lived, so I'll probably never know.

After prayer and many talks & discussions with Rachael and other chaperones, I learned a few things. The world was perfect, remember? Adam and Eve - God gave them everything. They didn't have to work for anything, and it wasn't good enough for them.  If everything was perfect, if there was no negative there wouldn't be any need for God. When Adam and Eve fell into temptation, they forgot about God. When life is going smoothly, it's natural for us to forget about Him and rely mostly on ourselves. If God gave us all the answers, we'd have nothing to work for. If we had no negatives, there wouldn't be any positives and life would be off balance. God leaves us with questions for a reason - to rely on Him. We can't blame society for the corruption of the world; we are society. Do we all deserve riches and endless amounts of blessings? Absolutely not. We all sin. We all go against what God has instructed and created us to do.

God chose for our group to see these things and to be tested for a reason. I believe strongly that God gives the toughest battles to those He knows can handle them. I was meant to see the Dump Village for a reason. God gives us these tests to bring draw us in and make us trust Him more. I can honestly say that despite the struggles and questions I encountered, I'm happy God tested me and gave me this experience. The Dump Village opened my eyes to a whole new perspective & I look at my life so much differently now. Instead of complaining about what I don't have, I'm so thankful for what I do have. I have been blessed beyond belief and will forever be grateful to the God who blessed me. It's my hope and prayer that the kids I interacted with can one day believe the same as me and realize that even though they don't have everything I might have, they do have blessings, the biggest blessing being their life.

One question of mine in particular was answered through all of this - "Some of these kids could be life changers in the rest of the world; why doesn't He give them that opportunity?" He does and continues to every day. If I hadn't gone to the Dump Village, I wouldn't have this new perspective of life. Every single solitary person in the Dump Village changed my life without intentionally doing so. They used their kind, loving, beautiful hearts to show me that there's more to life than not having enough. They gave me everything they had to teach me a lesson. They gave me all the love they contained in their hearts to welcome me to their village and invite me into their life as a friend. They showed me that life's beautiful, despite all the imperfections. Their poverty didn't stop them from having hearts filled with compassion and love. Their poverty taught me that just because life's not perfect doesn't mean it can't still be beautiful at the same time. It's not perfect, so why should I ever expect it to be?

I will forever be changed by my experience there. I will never be able to leave food on my plate without feeling guilty. I've been given a reason to smile because I have hope that these kids will have a bright, life changing future one day, and if that doesn't happen, it is my prayer that they all will be able to accept Jesus as their Saviour an experience an eternity of endless blessings and riches. They've all changed my life for the better, and I'll forever be thankful that God tested me through those beautiful, incredible people.