|
Duraznal, Oaxaca, Mexico.
Nathan Van Coops
From: McSherrystown, PA
From: McSherrystown, PA
Taught English, art, farming, mechanics
_____________________________________________
Living in Duraznal Mexico the last three weeks has put me
face to face with an unanswerable question: Why me? Why
was I born into a world of the child in the arms of the woman
next to me, doesn´t she deserve the same?
I see the inebriated "Borrachos" teetering down the streets
and wonder what they thought their lives would be like. What
were the real options?
A comfortable lifestyle in this town means having solid walls
around your kitchen or perhaps a little store in your front
room where you sell sodas and beer to passersby. You
show off your static screened television that picks up two
channels with a sense of pride.
So what is it about me? Why do I get a car and high speed
Internet access? Do I really deserve better health care than
the man next to me? Why does he only get to keep some of
his teeth, and I get to keep all of mine?
I´ve had a lot of time for Bible reading recently and it´s hard
not to notice all has been given us. More is demanded of
those to whom more has been returning the same and more.
If it´s easier for a camel to get through the eye of a needle
than for the rich to enter heaven, I imagine this is where the
main hang-up is.
Perhaps then the drunk sleeping in the ditch may be in less
danger for wasting his opportunities than I would be for
wasting mine. Will he be held accountable for his actions? I
imagine so, but what did he have to start with? When I think
of all the blessings I´ve been given in my life, health,
education,an enjoyable career, a loving family and excellent
friends, returning double the good I´ve been given is
certainly a challenge. In that light I´d day I have my work cut
out for me.
When I see men here working hard everyday to support
their struggling families and make a better life for them, I see
a kind of courage that´s beyond admirable. I see courage in
the faces of the women who go on working even when they
have husbands who have given up or become abusive with
drinking. Children head off to Mexico city or Oaxaca to try to
earn money for their families.
The oldest daughter of the woman I was staying with is
fourteen. She left last Saturday for a place near Oaxaca
where she will work in the house of a doctor tending children
and cleaning. She will earn 50 pesos a day. That´s under
five dollars, less than the minimum hourly wage in the
States. They go on laboring in these conditions in the face
of tremendous odds, without opportunities, money or good
fortune, knowing full well that they are unlikely to escape this
poverty in their lifetimes. To me that makes them a rare
breed of hero.
I am a volunteer here so I can stand the flea bites and rough
conditions for a couple of months and then return home to
my comfortable existence. The people here however are not
likely to ever have the things I take for granted, like flushing
toilets, mattresses or home telephones. This hardship is
theirs for all their lives and there is no relief in sight.
I used to think cultures like this might be better off where
they are, that there was something noble in a life of
simplicity. There may be some places where that´s true, but
not here. Here people live in shacks surrounded by starving
dogs, getting eaten by bugs all their lives and praying that
they will be able to feed their kids next week. There is
nothing noble about these conditions, only the people who
endure them.
There was a time when I would complain about things like
Wal-Mart and corporate America being bad for small
business. The next time I complain about a Wal-Mart I´m
going to have someone slap me in the face. Shame on me
for complaining about things being too damn convenient and
inexpensive. I should wake up every morning and thank God
that I live in a country where I get to have that as a problem.
I don´t know why I was born where I was and not war torn
Angola or one of the many other places where suffering is a
constant way of life. I certainly didn´t earn all of the many
opportunities that my country and education have given me.
I am not more deserving than the suffering souls here just
because of the location and situation of my birth. I am
seeing now that the blessings I´ve been given will never be a
free ride but rather that every step we take up the ladder is
a mandate to be elevating others with us.
Perhaps ignorance is bliss and I am shooting myself in the
foot by having experiences like this. After being here I don´t
think I can just donate twenty cents a day to sponsor an
orphan in Africa, deposit my loose change in the Salvation
Army bucket at Christmas time and consider myself square
with the world. I think my debt is much greater than that. I
guess I´ll find out.
face to face with an unanswerable question: Why me? Why
was I born into a world of the child in the arms of the woman
next to me, doesn´t she deserve the same?
I see the inebriated "Borrachos" teetering down the streets
and wonder what they thought their lives would be like. What
were the real options?
A comfortable lifestyle in this town means having solid walls
around your kitchen or perhaps a little store in your front
room where you sell sodas and beer to passersby. You
show off your static screened television that picks up two
channels with a sense of pride.
So what is it about me? Why do I get a car and high speed
Internet access? Do I really deserve better health care than
the man next to me? Why does he only get to keep some of
his teeth, and I get to keep all of mine?
I´ve had a lot of time for Bible reading recently and it´s hard
not to notice all has been given us. More is demanded of
those to whom more has been returning the same and more.
If it´s easier for a camel to get through the eye of a needle
than for the rich to enter heaven, I imagine this is where the
main hang-up is.
Perhaps then the drunk sleeping in the ditch may be in less
danger for wasting his opportunities than I would be for
wasting mine. Will he be held accountable for his actions? I
imagine so, but what did he have to start with? When I think
of all the blessings I´ve been given in my life, health,
education,an enjoyable career, a loving family and excellent
friends, returning double the good I´ve been given is
certainly a challenge. In that light I´d day I have my work cut
out for me.
When I see men here working hard everyday to support
their struggling families and make a better life for them, I see
a kind of courage that´s beyond admirable. I see courage in
the faces of the women who go on working even when they
have husbands who have given up or become abusive with
drinking. Children head off to Mexico city or Oaxaca to try to
earn money for their families.
The oldest daughter of the woman I was staying with is
fourteen. She left last Saturday for a place near Oaxaca
where she will work in the house of a doctor tending children
and cleaning. She will earn 50 pesos a day. That´s under
five dollars, less than the minimum hourly wage in the
States. They go on laboring in these conditions in the face
of tremendous odds, without opportunities, money or good
fortune, knowing full well that they are unlikely to escape this
poverty in their lifetimes. To me that makes them a rare
breed of hero.
I am a volunteer here so I can stand the flea bites and rough
conditions for a couple of months and then return home to
my comfortable existence. The people here however are not
likely to ever have the things I take for granted, like flushing
toilets, mattresses or home telephones. This hardship is
theirs for all their lives and there is no relief in sight.
I used to think cultures like this might be better off where
they are, that there was something noble in a life of
simplicity. There may be some places where that´s true, but
not here. Here people live in shacks surrounded by starving
dogs, getting eaten by bugs all their lives and praying that
they will be able to feed their kids next week. There is
nothing noble about these conditions, only the people who
endure them.
There was a time when I would complain about things like
Wal-Mart and corporate America being bad for small
business. The next time I complain about a Wal-Mart I´m
going to have someone slap me in the face. Shame on me
for complaining about things being too damn convenient and
inexpensive. I should wake up every morning and thank God
that I live in a country where I get to have that as a problem.
I don´t know why I was born where I was and not war torn
Angola or one of the many other places where suffering is a
constant way of life. I certainly didn´t earn all of the many
opportunities that my country and education have given me.
I am not more deserving than the suffering souls here just
because of the location and situation of my birth. I am
seeing now that the blessings I´ve been given will never be a
free ride but rather that every step we take up the ladder is
a mandate to be elevating others with us.
Perhaps ignorance is bliss and I am shooting myself in the
foot by having experiences like this. After being here I don´t
think I can just donate twenty cents a day to sponsor an
orphan in Africa, deposit my loose change in the Salvation
Army bucket at Christmas time and consider myself square
with the world. I think my debt is much greater than that. I
guess I´ll find out.
 |  |  |  |  |  |  |
 |
| |
 |
| |
 |
| |
 |
| |
 |
 |
| |
 |
| |
 |
| |
 |
| |
 |
| |
 |
| |
 |
| |
 |
| |
 |
| |
 |
| |
 |
| |
 |
| |
 |
| |
 |
| |
 |
| |
 |
| |
 |
| |
 |
| |
 |
| |
 |
| |
 |
| |
 |
| |
 |
| |
 |
| |
 |
| |
 |
| "Experiencing, Sharing Life in Christ" |
Volunteers International for Development Education Solidarity
|