Heartbreak & Hope

After a five hour drive through the hills and jungle of Thailand, I arrived in Mae Sot on Monday night. Chiang Mai was an amazing experience, and with all the night markets and things to do, it felt a lot like vacation. Mae Sot is a whole different world. Only a couple miles from the border of Burma, it's a developing city with many issues. Someone described it as "Burma meets the Wild West", and so far that feels pretty accurate! In the busiest part, the streets are busy with motorbike and car traffic, shops and food stands. As you get away from the city, you feel like you're on a safari with all the green, palm trees and hills.

It's been a busy week, and I'm still processing everything I've seen and experienced. I have spent time with the children in Compasio's safehouse, the home for babies born in prison, and the drop-in center for the street kids. Even though there's a language barrier with these kids (they speak either Thai or Burmese), they are so eager to play or just to be held. It's impossible to not instantly fall in love with every one of them, which makes it even more difficult to see the street kids you fed and played with at the drop-in center out on the street late at night. I've gone from low to lower maintenance here, as personal comforts and luxuries take a distant backseat to the need here. I've seen people eating out of the garbage, young girls caring for babies and a crippled man reaching out to me. In the split moment of decision to either walk by or to engage with him, I was pierced by fear and ignored him. I forgot who was protecting me and what I was here for, and I pray it won't happen again.

Then there was the dump. I was told two things before going there on Thursday: wear sturdy shoes and prepare your heart. I wore shoes and socks, but there's no way I could've braced my heart for what it was about to encounter. As our land rover pulled up to the dump, the people who call it home rushed over, happy to see us. We spread out a couple rugs, gave the children coloring books and crayons, and we played with balloons. There were about 40 kids, covered in a thick sticky layer of black dirt. One little boy played in a mound of garbage like it was a pile of leaves, jumping around and making "snow angels" in it. I observed from a distance because I didn't know what to do with myself, and if I'm being completely honest, I didn't really want to get dirty. The smiling babies and playful children quickly brought me to my senses, and I joined them on the ground. I held them, played with them, wiped their noses, and I got filthy. It was worth every piece of dirt to be part of their lives for that brief part of time. Just as I was beginning to forget where we were, the garbage truck came. About 20 of the adults lined up with their bags in eager anticipation for what it would bring. Their need for the garbage, and their excitement for it, is what tore my heart out. Just as it was breaking, a little boy I had been playing with earlier ran up to me and hugged my legs. I picked him up, and he put his arms around my neck and his head on my shoulder. I was told to walk up the mountain of trash to see their homes on the other side, so I did. I almost vomited from the smell and from the blanket of flies, and I saw a small village of shacks built out of wood, metal and rugs on top of the garbage. I cried, and I prayed. I felt like God said he sees these people. We are at war with injustice and despair, but Jesus Christ will win. We'll continue to go to the dump every week, build relationship with these people, and bring them food and water. There's a small dirty lake next to the dump, so we're also looking into options for a water filtration system.

Every day my heart breaks and my hope is challenged, but I know God is at work here. There are many NGO's in Mae Sot, and it's encouraging that so many other people have seen a need and are working to bring hope to this needy and desparate place.

Thank you all for your support, without which I wouldn't be able to be here!