I am on Team B (a construction team) and this year's project was building lattrines for the residents of Batey 50. It was my first time working here, and I've heard many things about how it's the poorest of all the bateyes in the country, but it didn't hit me that that may be true until I made the walk from the front of the beautiful church back through to the worksite. Every step I took further into the batey was a step that began to change me (God likes to do that to me a lot). The fact that we were helping to build lattrines means these people don't have a place to go to the bathroom other than...wherever they can. There are also a lot of animals there that also need to take care of business, so basically there was an unmistakably overwhelming odor in the air over the humidity of the Dominican heat. The amount of garbage and debris floating around was also quite shocking. And the homes the people lived in? Nothing more than rusted tin sheets-- some with holes in them--and if the family was blessed, a cement floor.
As I was working I started to feel very uncomfortable and caught off guard. A small part of me wanted to get out of there. I was saying to myself "how could I have been brought here?" It almost reduced me to tears to realize that this was life for these people. I looked over and saw a group of men playing a table game and another man inside his house peering out to see the work we were doing. An older man was standing beside our cement mixer laughing as I joked around with my good friend. A woman, Maria, stopped by and asked about who we were, the place we came from, and spoke to me in a way that instantly bonded us. I played with the kids now and then, and as they melted my heart with their smiles and laughter so did my first impressions of Batey 50 begin to evaporate. I forgot that I was in the poorest place I've ever been in in my life, and quickly realized that my sole purpose for the week was to use all my power for their good.
The heart and soul of Batey 50 lies within the hearts and souls of those who inhabit it.
They made me feel comfortable again. They dissipated all thoughts of discomfort and insecurity. I wouldn't have traded that for anything the world could offer. This was home for the next week. Now that I've been back for a while, it still feels like home, and though the trash and the smell and the poverty still exists, these people are richer than I in faith.
"Listen, beloved brethren: Has God not chosen the poor of this world to be rich in faith and heirs of the kingdom which He promise to those who love Him?" (James 2:5)
I thought early in the week how in America, we are so quick to blame circumstance or God for our misfortunes. If the smallest thing goes wrong we tend to have a "woe is me" attitude...and in some parts of the U.S. people respond to those feelings with violence. I thought how easy it could be for the poor to do exactly the same and turn to violence or ungodly means of getting their needs met. But the community in 50 were far happier than any group of people I've ever worked with in the D.R. The kids were so well behaved and just wanted to help, and the families were so well connected and had a remarkable faith, just like James said. That little three minute conversation in my head made me realize that the meek really do inherit the earth...that the poor really are rich...that God is so much bigger than we can imagine.
God pushed me far out of my "comfort zone" and pushed me to the edge. He had a greater good in mind looking back. If you ever feel like God has put you somewhere where you feel a little unsure and insecure, just remember that he does everything for our good...and through His eyes I was able to see Heaven on Earth.
"Oh, taste and see that the LORD is good, blessed is the man who
trusts in Him!" (Psalm 34:8)
