Around two hours in a bus could not prepare me for the next couple of days in Cot. The bus had stopped, and out to the right, was a backwards American flag. The people were welcoming us. We all gathered in a driveway and dispersed into groups with host families. Sylvia, Laura and my host mom, walked us down a small hill and into her home through her garage. Her car was quite nice, and it seemed that I had expected much worse. Her living conditions were no where near as bad as I thought. We were treated with a full meal, at midnight American time, but ten their time. One question easily answered: the people are so hospitable and loving. I can't explain the pure joy in Sylvia and her family's eyes. Sylvia tried, to no end, to converse with Laura and me, but we were so tired, and couldn't get out full sentences in Spanish. We went to bed, and woke to sizzling food and glorious smells.
After eating, the whole group went to the school in Cot, gathered in the lunch room, had some coffee, and soon left with school members to hike. After the hike, we went back to the school and enjoyed an afternoon of soccer, volleyball, and lounging. I was so surprised that, even in uniforms consisting of long pants and dark blue shirts, all the kids wanted to do was play with us. Many of us did not expect the welcome, or the goodbye.
The last night in Cot was truly heart wrenching. Saying goodbye is never easy, but this goodbye was the hardest. Sylvia had taken us into her house, and made it our home. She had showered us with love, hospitality, and joy. We all exchanged contact information, gave gifts, and spent the last few hours talking. And though Spanish is a true necessity in order to talk to the families, a question was answered: my Spanish would suffice.
The next morning, we left. A piece of my heart was left in Cot, not only with Sylvia, but with all the people there as well. Now, I would face the hardest part of the trip. La Cuenca was what I prepared myself for: much worse.
After dropping our bags in the Church in town, we walked down to the ministry "Sonrisas Con Esparanza," or Smiles With Hope. They had us lock up our stuff, and explained the violence within the community. Many of the people lived in metal houses, were covered in dirt and muck, and sadly, had never been shown love. Children ran amongst the streets, and along dirt and sewer paths without shoes. The first day, we walked to see the inside of a house in the community. Anna, the house owner, had ten children, one of which studies with her at night to obtain an education. So different from Cot, but very different from home.
Through the time in La Cuenca, we played three soccer games, played with too many kids to count, and cried often. The second day in La Cuenca though, was the day that could never be forgotten. We gathered, once again, at the ministry and locked up our bags. We split into four groups, each with a large mesh bag of supplies. We would be taking necessities to families in need. There are no words to explain the utter sadness on my heart, but the total happiness within the eyes of people we were helping.
My group, or the "Daniels group," was the last group to relinquish supplies. The first thing I noticed, and if you know me well, you wouldn't be surprised, was her dogs. One very skinny black female and one well fed yellow male, both flee infested and dirty. But more importantly, the second thing I noticed was Maria-Elena. She was very small and dirty. And in her eyes, behind the tears, I saw hope for a better future. Her son, Giovani, participated in the violence and stealing in the community. And on "Macha's," or Maria-Elena's heart, was a hope he would find work and leave the path he walks still today. And as we hugged, sang, and prayed with her, many tears fell from those around. That was an unforgettable experience.
Now, after the life changing experiences made within the first five days, we are at a resort... And it's not the same. I honestly want to be with Sylvia in Cot, and the children in La Cuenca. I wish for one more day with each of them. My reality, at home, and the everyday struggles, seem so small. The world, outside of my world, changes perspective. The things I don't believe I could live without, hot showers, air conditioning, and cellular capabilities, are not necessities. All we truly need in life is love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, and self control.
Lauren Jones
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