dump site

the dump site was incredible!... in a horrified-that-people-actually-live-like-that kind of way. we met Father Heinz at the university where he works, along with 3 other people from Germany and a guy from Chile (who the kids at the dump site called Mr. Bean though he kept insisting his name was Sergio - it was pretty funny). When our van, full of supplies, pulled up, the kids came running from the huts and piles of trash... they grabbed onto the van as we backed into place, pounding the windows and screaming and laughing... it was chaos! the kids come because the first thing Father Heinz does at the site is hand out crackers and cookies (2 packages per kid, though some manage to sneak back through the line for more - can you blame them?). once that line subsides another has already formed, stretching down the road made of garbage... this second line is for the sick (of which there are many at the dump due to the terrible sanitation, surprise surprise), mostly mothers carrying crying babies and a few elderly 'dump site citizens'...? Father Heinz listens to the lungs and heart of each in turn. they wait patiently to talk to him about their complaints (his Cebuano is impressive... as is his English... and Spanish... and of course German, his native language), then he hands them some combination of pills and liquid antibiotic based on his checkup and what the thermometer reads when Sergio takes the temperature of each child (39C or 102F was the highest, but most were running some degree of a fever). By the time the last in line is being seen and treated it is dark and my camera battery is dead because i have taken so many pictures of the children to amuse them. they love being photographed (and in particular love seeing the picture on your camera after it is taken). of course it amazes me that even the sickest, saddest looking child will smile back when smiled at. they cannot not laugh, they cannot not play, they are children just like anywhere else in the world, except that their feet are black from walking on garbage in only flip flops, and their faces are smugged with dirt and snot and in some cases (with the really sick ones), tears. They dont speak any English, and Lo and I are still struggling with Cebuano, so we communicate with smiles and games (like thumb wars). Once all the supplies and food were distributed we went for a walk around the shanty houses built on the feet and feet of garbage. Oddly enough, as we worked our way deeper into the community (to visit some of the sick patients dying of TB or hiv/aids), there was music... loud music... and of all things, the song playing was "Heaven"... you know, the one that goes "it isn't too hard to see, we're in heaven" - i think it was possibly the most ironic situation of my entire life. we walked a little more, passed a hut that literally contained two computers with internet access!!! and yes, the kids were on facebook... in the middle of the largest rubbish dump in Cebu, there was facebooking happening. wild. it was so dark and Father Heinz kept reminding us to use the stepping stones (because of the sewage and trash everywhere) and though I couldn't see I'd just watch where the children stepped and by following them diligently I made it through the dump site without misstep. What an experience. My time is up. more later.