Rodrigo

Nunca me habría imaginado que escuchar a mis amigos decirme "loco" por el hecho de levantarme temprano un sábado se sentiría tan bien. Despertarme sabiendo que en pocas horas le estaría haciendo bien a una comunidad que verdaderamente lo necesita, y es escasa de recursos básicos como por ejemplo el agua en su hogar o algunos viviendo con el miedo de que en cualquier momento podría desbarrancarse alguna piedra encima de ellos. Tengo una imagen de uno de los guías hablándonos en el bus de cómo lo que estaríamos viviendo una vez que lleguemos sería una oportunidad para dejar de pensar en nosotros por al menos un segundo en nuestras vidas, y que lo que estamos apunto de hacer le pintaría una sonrisa en la cara a varias personas.

Al empezar a subir al área de trabajo lo que más se escucha es el silencio de cada uno apreciando lo que los rodeaba y el fuerte respirar de ese amigo tuyo que le falta estado físico. Siempre se comenta de lo bonito que se ven las casas pintadas de diferentes colores, dándole un poco más de vida a todo. Y si es que tienes suerte te puedes ganar con niños jugando fútbol en las trochas, o alguna niña sentada en la escalera de su puerta mirando al mar verde de voluntarios pasar saludando; ella no responde, pero no la culpen, es chica y no entiende que hay personas que dan sin esperar nada de vuelta.

Porque de eso se trata, ¿no? Dar sabiendo que no te tiene que llegar algo de vuelta, ponerse los guantes sabiendo que vas a trabajar, que te vas a golpear pero no te preocupes, cuando te empieze a doler la espalda ahí sabrás que estás haciendo algo bueno. Vas a estar pasando baldes y a tu derecha va a ver un vecino de la comunidad, le vas a preguntar como se llama y te va a decir "Chicharrón", te vas a reír y antes de que te des cuenta vas a estar esperando con ansias la próxima semana para poder seguir riendo y trabajando con los que consideras ahora tus nuevos amigos.

Y qué mejor que escuchar a Juana llegar con esos pancitos frescos después de trabajar, donde tenemos la oportunidad de vernos con la gota gorda en la frente, reírnos y compartir experiencias. Ver tus zapatillas nuevas llenas de cemento y tierra y nunca te habrías imaginado que eso te crearía tanta satisfacción.

Increíble, ese sentimiento de saber que personas cuentan contigo para hacer del mundo un lugar mejor, y por lo menos a mí no me cuesta nada más que un poco de mi tiempo. Creces como persona, escuchas lo que los vecinos tengan que decir, sientes lo que es subir esas escaleras y trochas todos los días con baldes de agua para poder cocinar algo para tu familia esa noche, y a lo lejos ves a un niño hacer dominaditas con una lata y entiendes dónde verdaderamente estas. Ya terminando, regresando al bus, vez a la misma niña sentada en la misma escalera de su puerta, esta vez levanta la mano para saludar, acompañada de una sonrisa.

Gracias Bridges!

 * * * RODRIGO BIANCHI LEÓN

Willie

Since I’ve been in Lima, I’ve worked 3 days in one of the shantytowns, a region known as “Pamplona”. This area consists of dirt/mud roads, houses smaller than the average college dorm room, no electricity, running water or sewer system. I’m unaware of anyplace like this in the U.S. The whole region is also on a hillside. Although people in this area are poor, they are not so poor that they do not have their next meal. Their living conditions, bluntly put, are horrendous.

Pigs don’t make the best neighbors. Amidst these shacks are pig farms, which inhabited the region before people started moving there from the highlands, escaping terrorism or looking for work in Lima. As you can imagine, the area has an unforgettable stench due to these pig farms.

A brief history of Peru that will help you better understand the above paragraph: In 1980, the population of Lima was around 5 million. Now the population is around 10 million. This is largely due to a communist terrorist group known as the “Shining Path.” The “Shining Path” was rampant during the 80’s and 90’s, particularly in the highlands of Peru. Because of this, many people tried to escape the terrorism by moving to the city. Another tragic result of this is that in some of the highland cities, it is difficult to find families with dads, as they were the main victims of the terrorist.

The group that I work with in the shantytown is called Bridges. […] Bridges connects with private, but not religiously affiliated high class schools, to provide the students an opportunity to help their less fortunate neighbors. This is a really brilliant set up for many reasons:

1. The program is not specifically religious, because the private schools apparently want nothing to do with that. And at the same time, many of these students may have been baptized, but have not really been raised Catholic. Sometimes, the encounter with the poor in addition to reflecting and sharing while riding the bus ride back, on the unity of our humanity in Jesus Christ, allows the students to recognize their hunger for faith.
2. While we are in the slums we may be building a house, making a concrete staircase, constructing a cement support wall to keep rocks from falling down the hillside, but these are not why we are there. As the leaders of the program say, “these projects are only excuses to get to know our poor neighbors,” as many of these kids live literally only on the other side of this hill. Yes, hopefully we can improve the community for those living in Pamplona. But we are there to be with these people. To get to know them. To hear their story and share ours. We are there because we are humans, they are humans and we’re on this journey together. We are there to grow in love and share love.
3. These kids do not have to come and they do not need service hours. That is pretty cool to me, especially when size of the groups range from 20-50 students.

Saturday was the second time I went with the high school group. There were about 20 of them and the whole time we were working there was an incredible spirit amongst them. We were meeting the neighbors and getting to know the kids. After a few hours of mixing cement and passing buckets up and down the hill, I cut out for a game of soccer with some of the boys I met. By the end, we had a good 4 on 4 game going on their caged-in soccer court and this gringo didn’t embarrass himself too bad. These kids made my day! The boys were incredibly cute and Freddie, a 6 year old, kept holding my hand and calling me Alex…haha. And after he would say Alex about 5 times, I would remember that he was talking to me and would say, My name is Willie! Now what did you want…haha.

I’ve been thinking recently about pragmatism and how often times in the West we get caught up on accomplishing and making sure things always have a useful end. Being in the slums has reminded me that this work and the end of what we are building isn’t what is important. It is being with these people. Experiencing our unity with them. Loving them by getting to know their very person and allowing them to do the same. Going out of ourselves. It really doesn’t have a pragmatic end. It’s just the life of faith experienced in the unity of love.

 * * * WILLIAM JANSEN II

Nic

When I was preparing to go to Lima, Peru for the first time, I did not know what to expect.  It was my first time leaving my home country and the first time I would witness extreme poverty.

I was especially unsure of the quality and meaning of the work I would do there.  Would I be able to really change anything, make anyone’s life better, or restore a broken community?  I quickly found out that I was asking the wrong questions.  Working with Bridges enabled me to encounter the answers to questions I did not even know I had.  Understanding the poor from an outside perspective is simple and unchallenging, and it requires little effort to feel sympathy for someone in need when observing from a distance.  Being with the poor and feeling the weight of their presence, however, is much more challenging.

This experience pushes the limits of an individual to understand the beautiful mysteries of human interaction.  By the time I was finished working with Bridges during my first trip, I realized how similar I was to those I was sent to serve.  I was removed of the unimportant daily tasks of my life back home and completely exposed; there was no computer screen or book to hide behind.  Those I met in San Juan de Miraflores were relieved of the daily struggles of loneliness, hunger, and pain.  Each of us was able to put aside our spiritual and material poverty to show each other that we have one thing in common; the Love of God.

This is the opportunity that Bridges gave me, and I cannot think of a more pivotal moment in my life that has lead me to such a profound and true realization.  Bridges has overwhelming meaning in its name.  It unites those who seem entirely different, who seem as if they were from dissimilar worlds, and grants an opportunity to understand the mystery of common humanity in the Love of Christ.  I have Bridges to thank for the model of love they have shown me, and I am extremely honored that I was able to serve alongside them and understand the true meaning of service.