It’s hard.
Nicki and I live such a privileged life, Honduras, let alone
the US. Everyone in the US claims to know how well they have it. But it takes
living in a third world country to really know that. We have a wonderful site.
We have everything we could ever need
to live comfortably, plus a few extras that make life that much more
comfortable. We’ve seen other volunteers who live much more sparsely than we
do. And we’ve seen local people who live that much more sparsely than
volunteers do. If we wanted to, Nicki and I could afford to have cable TV and
internet. It would push at our budget, but we could afford it. We have a
guaranteed monthly salary. Right now we’re saving to go on a trip to Nicaragua
and Costa Rica.
But we work with people from the aldeas, people who live a 3 hours bus ride from town over a dirt
road often impassable if it rains. These people don’t have electricity, they
don’t have running water. They carry water from the river to their houses, or
catch rain water from their roofs. It is possible that some NGO worker one time
visited them and taught them that they need to boil the water to make it safe
to drink. If they are lucky, that person may have even taught them why that is
necessary, why they get sick from drinking unclean water. They live a tough
life, struggling to grow enough food to feed their family and themselves. When
they get that food, it is often cooked on a wood burning stove lacking any type
of ventilation, meaning that the women and children of the family who are
sitting in the kitchen all day are constantly breathing in smoke.
They lead such a hard life, and yet they are so generous to
you. They will gladly give me the best food for lunch. They will give me a
place to sleep if I need to stay overnight. They will pay for my bus to get to
the community, or gather enough money for gas for the one car in the community
to drive me. I’m there to help them, and they are so gracious, they will do
anything to help me. So how can I turn to them and say, “I’m sorry, I can’t do
a topo survey for you, I can’t give you a design”?
And yet I did. I feel horrible, but not because I’m not
helping them. It’s because I can’t. In this case, there are several houses that
are too high, higher than the water source, and so is the school. I can’t make
water run uphill. I wish I could. And so I said no, I can’t help.
And the people are ok with it. They’ve had a tough life,
they will survive. They understand, it’s not always possible.
I wish I could get the American nun who is supporting them
to understand. I have no problem with your faith, but God cannot help. He is
not going to make the water run uphill. Yeah, you could get a pump, but how
will you power it? The municipality won’t electrify this community for years,
if ever. A solar panel? Maybe, but that is several thousands of dollars more
when there is not even enough money to build the system at this point.
I want to help, I really do, but at this point in time,
there is nothing I can do. My time is better spent helping another community.
It’s a sort of community/water triage system. And so I said no.
Awww, I can feel the sadness that you portray Nolan. Well written and surely heartfelt.
ReplyDeleteGreat photos too!
ReplyDelete