She invited us into her home; which was on a tiny plot of dirt surrounded by sticks stuck up in the ground. Everyone here has fences; and those few sticks served as her fence. Her house was built of stones and mud, and was maybe 7 feet by 9 feet. The walls had many holes, and her roof was scraps of tin patched together, obviously needing lots of repair. This house was on the very edge of the saline, closest to the ocean.
There was an old double mattress in the corner, and the old man I mentioned before was lying on a wooden plank propped up by rocks. The corners were piled with old clothes, mismatched shoes, and miscellaneous odds and ends. Everything had flies. There was a little girl in the home who was wearing filthy clothes, dirt streaked across her face, smiling ear to ear.
I was so encouraged, yet heartbroken at the same time as we walked the dirt paths weaving in and around the saline. Everyone I saw was full of smiles. The woman we gave the food and items too was so happy to see us and to receive new things she hugged us many, many times, gave us each a kiss on the cheek, wanted a photo with us, etc. She was very kind, and very thankful. We would like to go down and visit her again.
The saline was everything you see in the National Geographic pictures, where the quality of life is so poor you wonder how people live there. It was overwhelming.
2 comments:
Wow, Amy. You write so well; I could picture it all in my head. Incredibly powerful.
Me too.
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