Tondo

So, I get one more post before my family hits the road for an 8-day road trip. Destination: Yellowstone. But before we move forward with that vacation, I need to rewind a little. Actually, let's rewind to July 10th, almost a month ago now, because, as much as I fight it, that day is forever etched in my memory.

If you haven't already noticed, I'm a sensory person. Describing the attacks on each of my senses helps me remember the scene. So, put yourself in my shoes for a bit and bear with me.

The first things I saw were the piles and piles of old tires, broken bottles, and other discarded trash lining the muddy road. When we got out of the van, I realized that the mud was like slow-acting quicksand and my clean flip flop wearing feet were no longer safe. While Allie and I struggled to avoid the softer, goopier areas of mud, the girls skillfully maneuvered the trash piles and mud mounds, eager to return home. As we ventured further into the trash dump, I must admit that I was shocked by what I saw. Even after reading articles and seeing pictures of garbage communities, I still wasn't prepared.

Piles of burning charcoal gave off this stench that seared my throat and forced me to either cough or hold my breath to escape it. The pungent odor got stuck in your throat and refused to let you breathe. Though it was difficult for me, residents of the community were not affected by the smells. Wherever I looked there were children running through the trash - naked, dirty, and covered in sores. Some were happily sitting amongst the waste of the city, while others were freely running from home to home teasing older siblings or neighbors.

As we were visiting the homes of some of the Onesimo trainees and requesting permission from their parents for the girls to join the Onesimo program, Rosalin grabs my arm and gently leads me in the other direction. After a little while, she releases my arm and starts running toward the shanty ahead. She emerges from the shanty holding her baby sister and eagerly introduces me to her mother and siblings. Mary Jane, another Onesimo trainee, pulls me next door and, with a huge smile on her face, introduces her family. I've never seen them so happy!

Then Jun-Jun, Mary Jane's younger brother, curiously approaches me with a toothless grin. Immediately he hugs me and eagerly starts speaking Tagalog only to discover that I can't understand what he's saying! But in that moment, nothing mattered. It didn't matter that there was a language barrier or that I was an American college student and he was a Filipino child from Tondo because Jesus reminded me of what it says in Matthew 19:14 - Let the little children come to me, and do not hinder them, for the kingdom of heaven belongs to such as these.

So God, what can we do to see more of your kingdom come to a garbage community like Tondo? I'm left with no answers, only more questions.
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*The other day I stumbled across these pictures from BBC of Tondo. Now that you've let your imagination paint a picture, see it for yourself. The picture of the bridge in Tondo is actually home to Shirly, another Onesimo trainee.