I'm in love I'm in love I'm in love

Estoy enamorada. I’ve fallen in love. Truth be told, I only met the guy this morning, but when it’s love, it’s love. And as of today, I believe in love at first sight.

Our conversation went something like this (except in Spanish):

Me: Hello.

Him: Hello.

Me: What’s your name?

Him: (something mumbled in Spanish)

Me: One more time?

Him: Juan Carlos.

Me: Oh. I’m Erin. It’s a pleasure to meet you, Juan Carlos.

Then he smiled the most charming smile this country has ever seen and touched me ever so lightly on the shoulder as he walked away. Hours later, I am still thinking about those beautiful eyelashes and that sweet smile. Yes, it was a short conversation, but I know our future is bright. The only problem is that he’s shorter than me, and considerably younger as well. I’d say he’s around six. (Did you see that coming or did I surprise you?)

Okay, the real story is that today I went to a place called Monte Adentro, which is an area on the outskirts of Santiago. I went along with my professor to visit a place where I will be going each week to fulfill my practicum hours for my Community Service class. Monte Adentro is a far cry from La Lotería, the neighborhood in which I reside here. Although La Lotería by American standards could be classified as dirty and a little on the poor side, it’s like Beverly Hills compared to Monte Adentro. The trip there required my taxi winding its way through dusty dirt roads pocked with pot holes and avoiding the occasional pedestrian wandering in the middle of the road. As we traveled away from the university, I saw less apartment buildings and houses and more tiny cement hovels, along with the occasional wooden shack with a collapsed roof. The skin of the people we passed became less caramel and more coffee. (A rant on Dominican racial issues is on its way soon, I’m sure.)

Finally we arrived at a place called Comedor Padre Ramón Duber. It is not a school exactly, but more of a center for children in poverty to participate in various activities such as sports and art. When we climbed out of our taxi, we were greeted by a real-life nun, habit and all. There was some confusion as to why we were there and what I was going to do there (which I’ve learned from my friends on HNGR is not unusual in these kinds of countries). So I left that explanation to my professor and turned my attention to the little knot of children that had formed around the new gringa. And this was the moment I fell in love, not only with sweet Juan Carlos, but with Marecios and Maria de los Angeles and the all rest of the little hooligans who were running amok around that battered little building.

But then Patricia the nun got my attention. Roughly translated, she told me, “We don’t have the resources to teach English to our students. They don’t have things to write with. And it is very hard to keep their attention because they have many problems. So many of them come here hungry.” Then my professor asked me if I thought my classmates and I would be willing to pitch in money to purchase the materials we would use with our children there. If I had known how to say it fast enough, I would have said, “I’ll give them anything! Find me an ATM stat!” Looking around at Comedor, with sheets of plastic for windows and a holey tarp for a ceiling, it was obvious that acquiring even something as cheap as paper and pencils would pose a problem.

We left all too soon, but not before promising my new friends I would be back next week. (And I’m already scheming to figure out how I can work more hours outside of my requirement. Because, you know, I’m in love.) Ironically, being there was the first time I’ve felt really happy since coming here, because it was the first time I wasn't living for me. Since my arrival, so much of my time has been spent on Erin. Doing things that satisfy MY desires or MY needs. Those aren’t inherently bad things, of course. But if I am living for Erin, loving only Erin, and letting my world revolve around Erin, there’s not a lot of room for loving Jesus and his people. Which is Not Okay, and in the end only leaves me empty and alone.

So I’m thrilled for the opportunity to work with my new heartthrob Juan Carlos and all the other precious children at Comedor. Please pray that the love of Christ would shine through me in every interaction, and that He would give me wisdom and discernment as to how to best bless them in our times together. Pray that God would miraculously end the poverty that literally threatens their lives. Pray that they would know God and how desperately in love with them He is.