Finally in the hot spot

It's hot here. And the food is spicy. Mmmmmmm. It's times like these that I am really grateful for the part of my upbringing that included annual trips to tropical Mexico. I am adapting remarkably well.

This place definitely is foreign. The buildings are missing floors because certain numbers are bad luck. The highways don't have lanes. The whole city shuts down for a couple days for Eid - the end of Ramadan celebration. There are no intersections or crosswalks. On most roads, if you want to turn across traffic you must find an opportunity to chuck a U-ey and then drive back a distance to the road you wanted to go down, resulting in repetitive turn arounds- back and forth, and back and forth. Al Gore would certainly find flaws in this system. At first we thought the taxis were trying to cheat us.. or severely confused. But then we understood that's just how the roads are. Trying to cross the street involves the wave of your hand and a prayer that you make it across alive. You can't wait till there is a break in traffic, or that the cars stop or slow down on their own, of you'll never cross the street. Seriously.

But surprisingly, I don't feel foreign here. Except for the constant reminders from the people -"buleh! buleh!" (westerner) they shout- I feel almost at home here. Ok, the language barrier is a bit of a reminder, too. But the point is I feel good here. It is tough being in the slums here though. There is nothing normal about that. People live in one room homes with no furniture, atop wooden piers that are constructed above highly polluted and littered water. They live next to dumps and among the dead rats and dead cats. The first family I interacted with was a couple who had lost their five year old daughter a couple months ago. She became sick and they took her to the better hospital but found out it they could not afford it. By the time they arrived at the public hospital she was already dead. It is difficult to sit there and listen, knowing that just outside this slum there is a HUGE megamall where people go every day to spend hundreds of dollars. It is difficult to try to explain why I believe in a God that is good. Most of all it is difficult to know that most likely, no matter what I do in these ten weeks I will not be able to bring her out of poverty, and I certainly won't be able to undo the injustice that cost her her child's life. But the trick to this do-gooder thing is to not fall under the same spirits that afflict those you've come to serve. If I give in to hopelessness, then this trip is finished. The key is to remember that one person helping one person can change the world... and that no matter how big the situation, my God is bigger.