Stara Zagora, Bulgaria
Arrived on Thursday evening in Sofia, where I was met by one of the missionaries I'm working with. We spent 4 hours driving through snow and rain to get to Stara Zagora, maybe the 4th or 5th largest city in Bulgaria. And it has been nonstop go go go ever since then. Days have started around 8 every morning and I get time again to myself around 11pm or midnight. This evening was the first breather I've had, so I made dinner for the family I'm staying with (greek tyropita and brownies, a very typical "Sarah" meal! AND go me because I made the brownies completely by eyeballing all the ingredients).
Anyway the physical side of it hasn't been that bad. I've had plenty of energy (although I CRASH at night and sleep pretty hard until the next morning). However, what I didn't expect was the emotional/spiritual toll, which has been a lot heavier...
Just one example:
Today we were out again with some of the kids in the Macedonian Outreach Program in the village of Yastrebovo. We were about to head back to the apartment for the evening when Keith asked me if I wanted to go meet Gita and Minko. Didn't know what I was in for. I thought I had seen poverty and poor living conditions in this world. Furthermore I thought I had prepared myself emotionally to come face to face with such conditions on this trip. But nothing had really prepared me for this. I fell behind for a second while I paused to take a picture of the destroyed forgotten house posted above. As I began to catch up to the others and saw my first glimpse of where exactly we were going, I felt my heart drop. I wish now I had taken pictures to help describe this experience but honestly at the time my first reaction was to put my camera away. I couldn't bring myself to take pictures of this family's living conditions-it was that painful. No door, the entryway was just packed dirt and dust. The roof was literally falling in. It is made with sticks and mud, then covered with cement but time has taken its toll, leaving huge chucks of ceiling missing or threatening to fall. I'm not an architect but it looks to me like the roof won't make it past the first snowfall this year. Anyway we took off our shoes there in the entryway which is the Bulgarian tradition. Then we passed through what I guess you could call a kitchen-a room the size of my bathroom with a dirt floor and sort of woodburning stove. To the left was a bedroom, 1/2 the size of mine, where the parents and 5 children sleep. To the right was another bedroom that houses the two grandmothers, both ill. We went into the bedroom on the left to meet Gita, the mother. One of her daughters, perhaps 10 years old, smiled and me and invited me to sit down next to her. She started talking to me and we were able to get as far as our names until she realized that I couldn't really understand her. Then we just smiled at each other and continued on in a sort of sign language. She was holding a small kitten that was dirty and sick. When she let it down it started walking around the room and throwing up on the filthy worn carpet. Neither the girl nor the mother seemed to notice, or perhaps they did and just didn't care. The girl was tiny, maybe even older than 10 but she was so skinny and small that she appeared pretty young. Every so often her sweater (just to save myself typing it over and over again, everything in this situation is filthy dirty, old, torn, worn, etc...) would ride up on her arms and I caught a glimpse of her bruised wrists. Her teeth were yellowed, already decaying. The dried mucus crusted around her nose gave evidence to one of many illnesses her small body was fighting. My attention was so focused on this little figure next to me that it took me awhile to observe her mother, Gita. Although taller, she was just as skinny, which made her rounded belly even more obvious. The child she is carrying will be their 6th. She updated us on her situation-Keith and Margie are pretty frequent visitors there-and Keith offered to pray with her before we left.
I almost lost it there in the middle of their house. Sadness, anger, disgust, pity...my heart was breaking for this family and their living conditions. This is what can be called life? It is so unfair. Where is God in all this? I've heard people ask this all the time but there at that moment I was really really pissed at the unfairness of it all...all the suffering, sickness, and pain in the lives of these people.
As we stood up to leave I turned to the little girl and said goodbye. She put her arms around me and I hugged her with everything I had, holding on way longer than needed. I came face to face with two other children, younger twin boys, who were returning home. They were even worse in appearance than the daughter-obviously ill and in need of food, warmer clothes, a dentist and a doctor. And yet they smiled and hugged me just like all the other kids I've worked with in Italy and America.
Anyway I kept it together until we reached the car. Then tears just started streaming down my face and the first words out of my mouth to Keith and Margie were, "How do you do it? How do you see this everyday and not loose faith in God and the world?" This can make an entire other post but basically they said that they do what they can, that they realize they can't solve the world's problems. Though hard to believe, there are people even worse off. And the sad thing about this village is that many of the problems are things that the villagers have got to take responsibilty for. For example in this particular family the father is an alcoholic and the mother has psychological problems. Then of course take the fact that she is pregnant with their 6th child, that doen't help the situation at all.
I'm still trying to make sense of it all. No answers, just a lot of questions and emotions that I never have to face and it sure as hell isn't easy or fun doing it. Ignorance is bliss, I don't want to be blissful and ignorant but I hate having all this information and experience and not knowing what the heck to do with it all. All I could do in there today was hold that little girl. And if I gave them what little money I have (although it would be a lot to them) it wouldn't solve the problem. The dad would spend it on alcohol and the mom would keep popping out babies unable to feed them all. So what am I supposed to do-in these next 5 days but then once I get back to "real" life. And what are we as a society of people supposed to do? Think about that tonight while you sit in front of your laptop in your heated home with a full refrigerator and cupboards and be grateful for what you have.
