the primary feeling i had throughout the weekend was helplessness. if hearts could bleed, i'm sure mine would. i wasn't surprised by the poverty, but i was surprised at my reaction. it's hard to come back to the states and resume normal living, when i know that normal living for those is mexico is so much harder. my world is very surreal and unimportant and extraneous. what we consider "hard circumstances" here seem like a joke in light of their day-to-day circumstances.
i'm sure i sound like everyone else who's returned from a missions trip, whether it's their first or twenty-first. what i found most frustrating was the language barrier...i so wanted to communicate with the children. but the best i could do was stroke a little girl's face in my hands...isabella...and ask her how old she was. isabella didn't have shoes. neither did any of her playmates. but they relished their playtime. i observed quietly as they came two by two, curious to see what we were painting, and tentatively starting to play with the paint themselves...painting the crystal geyser waterbottles we gave them [sometimes still full of water] and each other and dunking their hands in the bucket of paintwater...thoroughly relishing every bit of the experience. some of them were brave enough to come up to us and show us their bright pieces of "artbottles" and then ask for more bottles! =)
when i have children...IF i have children...i want to take them down there with me on a yearly basis. i want them to know how removed our lives can be from the realities of our neighbors. i want them to grow up grateful and compassionate. i want them to be more concerned with the giving instead of the getting. so often we complain about not having the finer things in life while others in the world find joy in the humblest.
i wholeheartedly expected to come back from ensenada spiritually uplifted and emotionally fulfilled. intead, i returned to the states spiritually dry and emotionally unsatisfied. one little weekend of labor by a handful of americans isn't much. i'm ashamed i once thought of the trip as a "good experience" for me, when it isn't about me at all.
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