why not me?

going to the Dominican Republic this past summer, though just for a week, has completely rocked my world. it was my 1st time in a 3rd world country. i saw desperation for food/water/clothing at a whole new level. adults taking children's cups of curdled milk, the only cup of milk the child might have for the next week or two. children begging for just 1 pair of shoes so that they could go to school. what? children BEGGING to go to school?

how easy it would be to harden my heart to what i saw. to leave in the Dominican what i saw in the Dominican and go about living my relatively easy life in America. how easy it would be for me to keep the memories tucked inside my head somewhere and forgetting to tell their stories. eventually the memories would fade and the burden i feel for them would subside.

but i don't want to waste the trip that God soverignly planned for me to go on. i can't. what a waste it would be to experience so many different things and not do anything with what i learned.

not only would it be a waste, it would not be fair to my friends i made in the DR. the Haitian refugees that risked their lives to bring their families across the Haiti/DR border in hopes of a better life for their children.

no, not every post from now on will be about the DR. but i hope that there will be many.

this is Callilina. precious. Callilina latched on to me from the first second we jumped off our safari truck in her village. she was no more than 5 years old and had an adorable, gruff/husky voice. she insisted on holding my paint bucket as i painted the door and windows the 1st day we came into the village. her and her sister, Natalia, played around me the entire time i painted. i was their "gringa amiga" and we tried to have as much as a conversation as possible with the little spanish that i know. :) we ended up laughing a lot and in the end, we sang about "cuckarachas" (cockroaches).

with the loving and joyful spirits that Callilina and Natalia show, you would never guess that these girls sometimes go a couple days without food. me and about 4 others in our group got to visit these sister's house in the village and bring juice and crackers to their family. their mom only spoke spanish, but she kept telling us that sometimes they go days without food. they were all skinny. all had torn raggedy clothes. there were actually 5 kids in the family, no dad. their dad had abandoned them.

hardly a meal goes by where these girl's faces don't flash through my mind. why am i able to fill my plate with food and at the end of the meal, sit there with food still on my plate and a full belly? why do i have the choice of what i want to eat at each meal? i sit here now, my belly warm and happy from the chai tea i just finished. Callilina is quite possibly laying in her bed (actually, i don't think she even had a bed) tonight, her stomach empty. and here i sit, my stomach full. it sickens me.

it's not fair. why is it not me in their shoes? why does it have to be like this? why do i get to have so much in America and they have so little? why is it that i can be working 2 jobs and yet their parents struggle to find even a small job that will bring them a dollar a day for their family?

these children have ruined me. ruined me in the best way possible. i drive myself crazy with the things i've spent my money on. it's ridiculous to look at the DVDs that i have, and to think that all of that money could be going to feed this kids, to clothe them, to send them to school.

it's getting late, i have a 7:50 tomorrow, and i feel like i'm rambling.

keep it real.
~jen~