What have I gotten myself into??

Today was horrifying and beautiful at the same time. I was on a team that went to replace the roof of a lady’s house in the village. This is my first time coming to a third world country, and the friars keep us very safe and clean and well-fed in their center here. After arriving Sunday afternoon and being on silent retreat in the Casa yesterday, it was something of a shock for me when we left the walls and drove across town to this woman’s house.

Many of the houses in town are bright and colorful, and the people zip by on scooters while children and dogs run down the sidewalk. That part wasn’t so bad. But when we got to this woman’s house where we were supposed to be working, the streets are lined with garbage. Father Richard led us to the house after we parked up the street, and as he opened the front door, I stepped into a muddy puddle on the concrete floor inside. 

The place was dark and dank, with dirt and dust covering everything, and my eyes teared up from all the acrid odors that flooded my senses, from the waste and mold and grime, from the chickens that scuttled across the floor, from burning plastic at the house next door. It was one of the hardest things I’ve ever had to do, not to run away screaming but to smile and accept the damp chair which Dona Olga offered to me so graciously.

What kept me from going? I realized that Jesus had been born into a filthy, miserable, ill-smelling place like this, and his mother had surely not complained. Rather, she resigned herself to what God had provided, and she chose joy. With that in mind, I knew I had to make a major attitude adjustment, and get over this illusion of being “in control”. I’m something of a clean freak. It’s extremely difficult for me to be in a dirty environment without being allowed to fix it. I knew the living conditions would be terrible as I headed into this trip, but nothing prepares you for what it’s actually like.

Father Richard kept the day wrapped in prayer for us: prayers when we were driving there, prayers when we arrived, prayers when we had completed our task. Seeing the quiet dignity of himself and of Dona Olga, particularly as he led us in the Psalms for Midday Prayer in the Liturgy of the Hours, served as an ever stronger reminder that God is to be found in even such a place as this. There is still so much for which we can be thankful and rejoice, even in the midst of such desperate circumstances.

I was captivated by the children who passed us by – they have such a contagious free-spiritedness, smiling and waving and shouting Hola! at these American strangers. Two little girls were giggling as they skipped down the road, hand in hand. They know what it is to find joy. I wish that we as Americans could be more like them, instead of being so stressed and busy and fearful all the time. The kingdom of Heaven belongs to such as these.

When we started out this morning, I thought I’d made a terrible mistake in coming to this country. But in the course of a single day, I learned so much about what it is to be truly happy.

Kathryn