I walk the streets of Lima or Chincha everyday. It is hard to measure
what destitute and poverty and need is. But, being here has given me at taste
of world poverty. I have seen the families of Chincha crammed into tarp and
grass tents with no food, and lack of clean clothes and safe water to drink,
sharing a communal toilet (hole in the ground with a tarp around its vicinity).
I have seen those with no legs left on a side corner begging. I have also
walked by people lying in the sidewalk, wondering if they are still breathing.
I have seen the women begging on the corners, with their little children baking
in the sun. I have seen the infants with diaper rash so bad they can not be
held properly. I wonder if life still
has the same meaning to them like it does to me? Can I comprehend this truth? I
wish I would get used to it, but it is always so hard to see people like this;
I get a queasiness in my stomach every time I see it. I was talking to a guy in
Chincha- he was about my age and he was telling me how his friend broke his leg
in five places during the earthquake. Because the hospitals were so overflowed
during that time, they just amputated his leg. This is the case for many
people. I have seen little girls pushing their old grandpa's in make-shift
wheelchairs. They take plastic lawn chairs and put it in a wheelchair frame. It
is hard to realize that the people aren't just at a temporary place of need,
but this is the way of life for many down here. And, there is no significant
change in site. It burdens my soul to see things like this, and it would not be
so if people had put themselves in these situations. And then I think, they too
have to live 24 hour days. I feel desperate like them, "Why does it have to be
like this?" Someone told me that a person was hit by a car in rush hour, was
laying in the middle of the road and no one dared to stop, they needed to save
themselves 2 minutes of time, and for fear that they would be framed. This is
an undeniable reality that won't go away overtime.