Hello All, there is something that I sincerely want to share with you, which is how I spent my summer. This summer, I went on one the most exhilarating adventures of my life. For two weeks, I was with a group of high school and college students from my church in the heart of Mexico City working with street kids. It was a time that has influenced me and gave me a new perspective on life. It was quite eye opening as well; everyone has seen media images about poverty around the world, but until you see it firsthand you don’t understand. There were many times where I was out of my comfort zone, and many times where I wondered “what on earth am I doing here,” yet in the end I have no regrets and wouldn’t trade the undertaking for anything.
The trip started out with a long and brutal day of travel. It started out by driving to L.A.X. at 5 A.M. and ended with us at our hotel around 4 A.M. For the next few days, we spent time with street kids in their homes; which was anywhere from the back of a metro station, to a park, to the side of a freeway. Street kids have a specific lifestyle and culture. They are families of people aged from approximately 13-28, who live and care for each other on the street. Many of them enter the streets because their parents have serious alcohol problems. The majority of them also have serious addictions to inhalant type drugs. Their basic motor skills don’t work very well, neither does their speech and thinking due to the effects from the drugs. I will never forget the first time I met a family of street folk. Our group got off the metro and made our way through a series of taco stands into a side street. When we encountered the group, the atmosphere hit you. It smelled heavily of sewage and gaseous inhalants. One man had five or six piercings going in and out randomly through his face, while another had a ragged Mohawk with a whole syringe as a piercing going through his ear. Despite this shocking introduction, greetings were made between the “guero’s” and the kids, and the ice was a little bit broken.
The following week was an interesting experience. The missionary group that we worked with called “Lampas” and our church rounded up approximately 80 street kids and took them up to a camp in the mountains of Mexico City. Here we gave them three hot meals a day (which they probably get once a month), had Bible lessons, and played many hours of soccer and other games. It was an awesome experience because when the kids are off the streets and of the drugs, their real personality shines through and you get to know them better. One would also assume that the language barrier would be a problem, though I know from firsthand experience that it doesn’t matter. What counted was your enthusiasm and willingness to participate. The first night left me with a memory I will never forget. Since the camp is in the middle of the woods, the only source of energy is a generator, and when that generator is turned off, it is one- hundred percent pitch black. It had been quite a rough night and we went to bed late. At two or three in the morning I woke up with a start because someone very near to my head was speaking Spanish. I franticly started trying to wake up my roommates until one of them clicked a flashlight on the Spanish speaking culprit. Leaning quite close to me in my cozy sleeping bag, there was a wide grinning- tooth missing street kid looking right at me. As you probably can tell, I was quite startled.
For the last leg of the trip, we spent it in the streets again visiting with the groups that went to camp with us. It was interesting seeing them again because it finally connected who lives with who and where they are located, because at camp you know everybody but you don’t know who they belong too. For all the kids that we revisited, their faces always lit up. Many were ecstatic with joy that we had kept our promise that we would see them again. One time we walked around a corner to a street site and one particular girl that our group had gotten to know came sprinting up to us and burst into tears. It was a humbling concept knowing that we had touched someone’s life in that powerful of a way.
I hope this has shed some light on an aspect of my life that I hold very important to me.
Sincerly,
Matt
Hello All, there is something that I sincerely want to share with you, which is how I spent my summer. This summer, I went on one the most exhilarating adventures of my life. For two weeks, I was with a group of high school and college students from my church in the heart of Mexico City working with street kids. It was a time that has influenced me and gave me a new perspective on life. It was quite eye opening as well; everyone has seen media images about poverty around the world, but until you see it firsthand you don’t understand. There were many times where I was out of my comfort zone, and many times where I wondered “what on earth am I doing here,” yet in the end I have no regrets and wouldn’t trade the undertaking for anything.
The trip started out with a long and brutal day of travel. It started out by driving to L.A.X. at 5 A.M. and ended with us at our hotel around 4 A.M. For the next few days, we spent time with street kids in their homes; which was anywhere from the back of a metro station, to a park, to the side of a freeway. Street kids have a specific lifestyle and culture. They are families of people aged from approximately 13-28, who live and care for each other on the street. Many of them enter the streets because their parents have serious alcohol problems. The majority of them also have serious addictions to inhalant type drugs. Their basic motor skills don’t work very well, neither does their speech and thinking due to the effects from the drugs. I will never forget the first time I met a family of street folk. Our group got off the metro and made our way through a series of taco stands into a side street. When we encountered the group, the atmosphere hit you. It smelled heavily of sewage and gaseous inhalants. One man had five or six piercings going in and out randomly through his face, while another had a ragged Mohawk with a whole syringe as a piercing going through his ear. Despite this shocking introduction, greetings were made between the “guero’s” and the kids, and the ice was a little bit broken.
The following week was an interesting experience. The missionary group that we worked with called “Lampas” and our church rounded up approximately 80 street kids and took them up to a camp in the mountains of Mexico City. Here we gave them three hot meals a day (which they probably get once a month), had Bible lessons, and played many hours of soccer and other games. It was an awesome experience because when the kids are off the streets and of the drugs, their real personality shines through and you get to know them better. One would also assume that the language barrier would be a problem, though I know from firsthand experience that it doesn’t matter. What counted was your enthusiasm and willingness to participate. The first night left me with a memory I will never forget. Since the camp is in the middle of the woods, the only source of energy is a generator, and when that generator is turned off, it is one- hundred percent pitch black. It had been quite a rough night and we went to bed late. At two or three in the morning I woke up with a start because someone very near to my head was speaking Spanish. I franticly started trying to wake up my roommates until one of them clicked a flashlight on the Spanish speaking culprit. Leaning quite close to me in my cozy sleeping bag, there was a wide grinning- tooth missing street kid looking right at me. As you probably can tell, I was quite startled.
For the last leg of the trip, we spent it in the streets again visiting with the groups that went to camp with us. It was interesting seeing them again because it finally connected who lives with who and where they are located, because at camp you know everybody but you don’t know who they belong too. For all the kids that we revisited, their faces always lit up. Many were ecstatic with joy that we had kept our promise that we would see them again. One time we walked around a corner to a street site and one particular girl that our group had gotten to know came sprinting up to us and burst into tears. It was a humbling concept knowing that we had touched someone’s life in that powerful of a way.
I hope this has shed some light on an aspect of my life that I hold very important to me.
Sincerly,
Matt