First off, I'd like to apologize to all the family and friends who have been disappointed in how little I've posted in the past few weeks. However, in my defense, I did heed you all fair warning, did I not? In reality, I have only kept my promise to be terribly inconsistent at writing, and thus, you should be nothing but proud :)
Anyway, an update from the Speck crew...wow, where to begin. I suppose we can start with last Monday.
I hope you all remember about the Monday night kids group we started to run in a very impoverished neighborhood called Landeta (sp?). I hope you also remember that the last time I wrote about it we had approximately 15 children, and I was quite excited about how quickly it grew. My how things have changed. Over the course of the 2.5 months that we have been investing in that community, our average base of children has grown to approximately 50+ per week! Two weeks ago, we had over 80 children...I repeat, 80 children!
This is an absolutely astounding number of children to consistently show up at 5:30 pm in a dirt field every Monday to meet us for a very "classroom"-esque environment. These children range in ages from 3 to about 18, and we seem to be more and more respected and trusted in the community the longer we are here. When we first started this gig, I was so perplexed by how consistently the kids showed up, often sitting patiently on the curb in front of a massive field consisting of mostly dirt, a few rusted picnic tables, and some netless soccer goals. I asked myself, "why are these kids so interested in playing with old people, hearing a Jesus story, and making crafts every week?" I imagined myself as an 8 year old, and I couldn't fathom having any interest in it. But then I remember the very tragic and broken childhoods of these kids. For most, they are being raised by one parent (mainly mothers), and have a number of siblings from other "fathers" who are not in the picture. These mothers work their tails off through the day and into the night to feed and clothe their children, and the sacrifice for survival is quality time with their kids. The end result: most of these little guys are essentially raising themselves, without the presence of a consistent adult in their lives. WE have become the consistent adult in their lives, and for that reason alone, the same faces show up week in and week out. And for that, WE will continue to show up week in and week out.
We have an eight year old boy who is completely illiterate and does not attend school. His awareness of being academically behind his friends has made him angry and aggressive toward other children. We have girls no more than 17 years old come up timidly with their babies on their hips to watch us play with the kids. One 13 year old girl broke her flip flop during a game of kickball, and she walked away from the game and sat by herself under a tree for a while. I asked our director what was wrong and she responded, "Those were her only shoes, and she can't go to school without shoes." One day, Jacob, a young guy studying children's ministry at seminary came to help us. He was so fun and engaging for the kids, and to my utter shock the kids wanted to pray. So he asked the group of 50+ children what they would like to pray for, and these were some of the answers:
-"For my Daddy to stop drinking so much alcohol"
-"For my Mom to find a job"
-"For my Daddy to stop getting drunk"
-"For my parents to stop fighting"
-"For my Daddy to stop drinking"
-"For my Mom to come home more"
Noticing a pattern here? It breaks my heart to hear so many of the same concerns that all relate back to the adults in their lives. We'll see drunk, shirtless men passed out in the middle of the dirt path leading up to the field. Sometimes, very suspicious-looking men will lurk around the field and watch the children from a close distance, clearly drunk.
I am now the leader of the young girls ages 11 and older. I usually get between 6 to 12 girls a week, and I am both excited and petrified to lead these young women every week. I am absolutely terrified for them in the dangerous environment they live in. Gangs permeate the neighborhood, and I see way more young men than women crowding around the rest of the field. The risk of pregnancy and STDs is so high from both the high-risk of rape, as well as the culture that glorifies dating and sex at an extremely young age (not so much different from our own stomping grounds I suppose). The difference is poverty. Due to the level of poverty, contraceptives are not very accessible or affordable to these kids, which only heightens the risk for pregnancy and STDs. If I were leading a group of young girls in suburbia, U.S.A., I would do a lot of "life dreaming" activities, where I encouraged the girls in various ways to go after their dreams...that anything is possible, thus providing them with the most impacting motivator not to have sex at that age. With these girls, I'm not sure where those boundaries are. Do I indoctrinate them with the notion that they should pursue their dream of being doctors and lawyers, when the chances of them even graduating high school are so low? Do I focus on communicating the importance of waiting on having sex with their 12 year old boyfriend in order to achieve their dreams, or take a more 'survival mode' approach that may or may not include passing out condoms and teaching about contraceptive use? These are big questions, questions about my worldview compared with theirs, my endless field of opportunities compared to their very narrow walkway.
To make our program more effective, we are starting to visit twice a week instead of once. We now go on Thursdays to have a more laid back, bonding day with the kids that is still structured, but less classroom-like. Kyle and his partner will play soccer with the boys, Lindsey and her partner will play games, sing songs, and make crafts with the kids under 5, and I teach English to any of the teens in the neighborhood who want to learn this very practical life skill. In my first week I had four teens ages 11-16, and I expect more next week as the word spreads through the neighborhood that free English classes are being offered at the rusty picnic table across the field.
Now that we have a solid base of kids, we can anticipate more needs and structure our weekly activities much more than before. As we move into the second half of our time here in San Miguel, here are some major concerns we have for our little rag-tag, grassroots program:
-Raising up mature, committed leaders to sustain and grow this program where God is clearly moving. Our biggest struggle is finding consistent leaders who can commit long-term to this program. Team Speck is very concerned about the state of the program and the emotions of the kids once we leave if there is no one to take our place. We are desperately praying for and seeking out new leaders to mentor into these challenging but rewarding roles.
-We are quickly improving our language skills, and are much better at communicating mostly anything we need to say to people. However, we get much more tired more quickly here, and sometimes discouraged by the ever present language and cultural barrier that we face every day. These barriers inevitably affect the successful development of our little program, and for us Americans who are used to order and structure and linear thinking, the cultural barriers in terms of mere cognitive differences can be very frustrating for both parties.
-Since most of the children are raising themselves, the very notion of discipline and obedience are outside of their realms of comprehension. Some of the boys punch other kids, and discipline is a very critical and immediate need as our numbers grow. We are trying to figure out how we want to implement behavior rules and punishments for the kids, while remaining loving, supportive, and understanding of the difficult circumstances in which they live day in and day out.
In light of above disciplinary concern, I do have a rather hilarious story for cyberspace with which to conclude my blog:
Two weeks ago, we had 80 children show up with only 7 leaders. Our director, Barbara, brought a gigantic plastic bag of bouncy balls(you know, the kind in the giant baskets you always begged your mom for at the grocery store, but she'd always say no?). To our dismay...there were only 40 balls...
Barbara found herself in a mild state of panic as 80 children began to whine for a ball. She went up to Lindsey, eyes wide with fear, and asked, "What do we do with these balls?" Well, we decided to play a structured game boys vs girls to determine which team would win them. The boys decidedly won the game, and Kyle picked up the bag to gently offer the prizes to the gloating winners. Instead of hands cupped and patiently ready for their prize like Oliver and his soup, 40 boys formed a full blown stampede toward the bag in Kyle's hands. As I heard an unmentionable curse emit from Kyle, he turned and sprinted the opposite direction with the bag above his head as fast as his ginger legs could take him. Please try your best to imagine the sounds emitted from a wild herd of no less than 50 children as the girls joined the stampede, tearing after your husband. Kyle sprinted for a solid two minutes, I suppose to try and wear them out. Unfortunately, Kyle is a bit out of shape, and halted in the middle of the field. He raised the bag high above his head, as 50+ children scratched and clawed up his body. For a fleeting second, we locked eyes, and for maybe the first time ever, I saw blood red fear flash in his wild eyes. He gripped both ends of the bag, gave a resounding roar, and ripped the bag in two. Colorful balls scattered like an explosion of fireworks, and kids tackled one another like cats in a bag.
We love you all, and miss you terribly. Please keep us and our 80 rugrats in your thoughts and prayers as we try and hold on to strength and sanity together and with our amazing God :)
Note to readers: Kyle Speck is alive and well, and has suffered no noticeable physical or psychological trauma from the episode described above.
