September 18, 2008
I was going to complain about the traffic noise outside my hotel window, since Colombian drivers use horns more than their
steering wheels. I could have whined about the shower, where the water pressure managed to defy the law of gravity (how
can liquid fall that slowly and ineffectively?). While we're at it, I could congratulate the hotel construction crew for creating
a bathroom in which the door comes within a hair of both the sink and the toilet seat as it swings. How did they manage
this?
Then I visit the "home" of my first child on the itinerary, Evelin. She lives in a shack, and a rather precarious one at that.
Pictures do not do this place justice. Imagine sitting in a dark and dirty sauna with 8 other people every single day. There
are two seasons here: hot and humid, and hot, humid and raining. This is her existence. She shares a dilapidated bed with
her Mom and two siblings, one a 10-month-old who is smart enough to realize that his environment is less than stellar, and
he cries to let them know that he's not a happy camper. How they live this way baffles me. As far as I know, Evelin's Mom is
not working. Officially her father has not abandoned her, but it's clear that he's not around very much, either by choice or
necessity. I don't have the heart to ask for details.
Evelin is quiet and shy. Given her situation, I can hardly blame her. Her mother is all of 23-years-old, so supporting 3 kids
on unknown and sporadic income has got to be a daunting life for an ill-educated woman with no future. I certainly can't
save this woman from her poor choices, but I can try to give one of her kids an opportunity to escape from this hell. The
sad part: Evelin is not alone. Not by a long shot. There are tens of thousands in Cartagena just like her.
My first task is to make Evelin comfortable. I want her to know that this strange guy she doesn't know is the best friend she
has. If I knew Spanish, it might be easier. I have to work through Mauricio, my faithful guide and translator. We slowly
bring this shy girl out of her shell. A small gift here, a smile there. Give her a hug. Hold her hand. I'm living the mission that
Children International spouts: give them hope. So I do so in my own small way.
One way is to remove them from their drudgery for a few hours. Take them away from dirty and dark to something bright
and colorful. We head to the mall. I'm not sure she's ever been to such a place, but it's clear that she's not a regular. After
lunch, we hit the shops. Obviously this child needs more than a simple trip to Carrefour (or my credit card) can possibly
provide. What does she need? Clothes! Despite being nicknamed "Flaca" (skinny), her clothes are skin tight. And shoes.
Her footwear is in dire condition. More smiles. Hey, this sponsorship thing is okay!
Clothes take a back seat to PlayLand, however. It's a glorified arcade with a couple small rides. A simple trip on a merry go-
round does the trick. She's laughing! It's worth ten times the price to see her have fun. Seeing this simple transformation
is all the confirmation I need that my sponsorship makes a positive difference in someone's life. Suddenly the awful flights,
flooded streets and cramped accommodations fade into insignificance.
I was going to complain about the traffic noise outside my hotel window, since Colombian drivers use horns more than their
steering wheels. I could have whined about the shower, where the water pressure managed to defy the law of gravity (how
can liquid fall that slowly and ineffectively?). While we're at it, I could congratulate the hotel construction crew for creating
a bathroom in which the door comes within a hair of both the sink and the toilet seat as it swings. How did they manage
this?
Then I visit the "home" of my first child on the itinerary, Evelin. She lives in a shack, and a rather precarious one at that.
Pictures do not do this place justice. Imagine sitting in a dark and dirty sauna with 8 other people every single day. There
are two seasons here: hot and humid, and hot, humid and raining. This is her existence. She shares a dilapidated bed with
her Mom and two siblings, one a 10-month-old who is smart enough to realize that his environment is less than stellar, and
he cries to let them know that he's not a happy camper. How they live this way baffles me. As far as I know, Evelin's Mom is
not working. Officially her father has not abandoned her, but it's clear that he's not around very much, either by choice or
necessity. I don't have the heart to ask for details.
Evelin is quiet and shy. Given her situation, I can hardly blame her. Her mother is all of 23-years-old, so supporting 3 kids
on unknown and sporadic income has got to be a daunting life for an ill-educated woman with no future. I certainly can't
save this woman from her poor choices, but I can try to give one of her kids an opportunity to escape from this hell. The
sad part: Evelin is not alone. Not by a long shot. There are tens of thousands in Cartagena just like her.
My first task is to make Evelin comfortable. I want her to know that this strange guy she doesn't know is the best friend she
has. If I knew Spanish, it might be easier. I have to work through Mauricio, my faithful guide and translator. We slowly
bring this shy girl out of her shell. A small gift here, a smile there. Give her a hug. Hold her hand. I'm living the mission that
Children International spouts: give them hope. So I do so in my own small way.
One way is to remove them from their drudgery for a few hours. Take them away from dirty and dark to something bright
and colorful. We head to the mall. I'm not sure she's ever been to such a place, but it's clear that she's not a regular. After
lunch, we hit the shops. Obviously this child needs more than a simple trip to Carrefour (or my credit card) can possibly
provide. What does she need? Clothes! Despite being nicknamed "Flaca" (skinny), her clothes are skin tight. And shoes.
Her footwear is in dire condition. More smiles. Hey, this sponsorship thing is okay!
Clothes take a back seat to PlayLand, however. It's a glorified arcade with a couple small rides. A simple trip on a merry go-
round does the trick. She's laughing! It's worth ten times the price to see her have fun. Seeing this simple transformation
is all the confirmation I need that my sponsorship makes a positive difference in someone's life. Suddenly the awful flights,
flooded streets and cramped accommodations fade into insignificance.