My teenage daughter is in Mexico on a mission trip with her youth group.
Their job while in Mexico is to build two block buildings that will be
homes to two families.
From her perspective, this is a "trip" with the youth group.
From my perspective, this is a part of her education and a part of
learning to appreciate her privileged lifestyle. While I know some of
this may
be wishful thinking, as a parent of an emerging adult here is what
I would like to hear from her if she were to write me a letter.
Dear Dad:
Boy, is it hot here. I never realized how much I appreciate air conditioning.
We sweat in bed, the temperature is in the 80s at breakfast, and it
only gets hotter all day. We get up as soon as the sun rises, eat a quick
breakfast, and then we work almost all day in the sun moving concrete
blocks and mixing mortar. By the time we get back to our bunks at night,
I'm almost too tired to even shower. This is REALLY hard work. I can't
believe some people do this every day their whole lives. This has made
me appreciate how hard the men work that I see at home on the side
of
the road and on construction sites as I'm on my way to a swimming party
or a movie. People who joke about "lazy Mexicans" don't have
a clue what they are talking about.
Meals are interesting here. We have the same thing for every meal: sandwiches
and warm bottled water. We tried putting ice in coolers for the water,
but it is so hot it just melts and it is more for us to carry to the
job. The people who live down here eat the same things every meal,
too, but for them, that is what they have their whole lives. I met this
one
little boy who hadn't eaten in over a day. It is funny, but I never
thought about how wonderful it is looking around the kitchen trying to
decide
what I'm hungry for or how great it is to have 50 restaurants to choose
from. It would make Mom's job easier planning meals if we had the same
thing all the time, but it sure would be boring. I don't think I'll
ever use the words "there isn't anything to eat" again.
The people that will live in the house I'm helping to build don't have
anything! They have no change of clothes and no shoes. They have no toys,
TV, car, or any of the things that I have. Down here in this village,
even children younger than me work when they can. Some of these kids,
even five- and six-year-olds, come around and ask us for food or money.
I found out that I'll make more money at my part-time job over the summer
than their family earns in a whole year. The difference is that I'm working
for spending money and they are working to live. That is scary.
I feel a little guilty that I'm only doing this work for one week. I'll
go back to my easy life, lying around at the pool all summer long, but
these people will plod ahead with the same existence they have always
known. I know you have tried to tell me this, but until now I've never
realized what an easy life I have. I think it will be a long time before
I complain about having to unload the dishwasher or clean a bathroom
sink. When I get a little frustrated with what we are having for supper,
I'll try to remember warm water and sandwiches.
I can't wait to come home, but the funny thing is this. As hard as it
is here, I realize that in a way it is kind of nice; very simple. I think
I could learn to appreciate living here if I had to.
Thanks for encouraging me to do this. I'll never see life the same.
