11 PM - Christal Earle’s Blog

I had seen him around the garbage dump for the past 2 years, but not thought much of it. There are a lot of faces that I see here every day that I come out to this place that has come to be a place of understanding, compassion, and friendship. Today, I saw past his scars on his eyes, past the sweat and grime, and heard the voice of the man who has impacted my life.

We pulled into the garbage dump with our team and were blown away by how much smoke there was; they were burning it off (no points for environmental friendliness there!) and wouldn’t officially allow any workers in. The dump here is huge and covers many acres of land. Normally there are about 50-60 workers picking bottles, scrounging for food and clothes, and just trying to survive. However, today, there were quietly about 7 men working behind one of the hills when we finally found them. Luke looked up from his work of trying to find some food for his family and waved when he saw me. He walked over and kissed me on the cheek. I asked him what was going on and he told me they were the only ones working today, as the rest were too scared to come for fear of the police being upset with them for being there and them being deported. Luke explained to us what that could look like for them: being immediately taken to the border and dumped off without anything to get you anywhere. Did I happen to mention that Luke himself has been here in Dominican Republic for 25 years, but because he is stateless, he has no protection for him or his family? The world can deny his existence, but after this, we know the truth.

Luke was a wealth of understanding for us as we sat on that hill and allowed understanding to direct our compassion, and today, in the middle of the stench of the garbage and the buzzing of the flies, Luke was our motivational speaker.

He spoke to us of what it is like to dream of educating your children, of being able to provide for your family, of feeling like you belong. He spoke to us of dreaming about the ability to afford simple necessities and of being treated as an equal. And then, Luke spoke to our hearts, as he told us that there is something different about the Hero Holiday groups that come out to this desolate garbage dump: they work alongside of them, and they make them feel valuable. He turned to me and told me that the workers at this garbage dump have come to value what we do to help them, and they trust us and want to welcome us into their world. Without knowing it, Luke spoke to the deep place in us that can often wonder if we are doing enough or if we are making any difference for them, and he reminded us that we have allowed them to know that they matter. Though the world may not know they exist, in our hearts and memories they are now a face, a smile, a hand stretched out to be embraced, and a dream to be cherished with hope for a better future.

Luke, the 34 year stateless Haitian man at the garbage dump has become my newest favorite motivational speaker. As I work alongside of him and the other 50+ people from his village at this garbage dump, I can only hope to make a difference, and today, Luke taught me that it starts with this simple kindness.

Thank you, Luke. I don’t know if you can even read or write, and I know you will never have the chance to read this brief tribute to who you are, but you have touched my life and sharpened my focus. You have allowed me the privilege to hear your story, and every day that I see you when I bring out the teams, I see your shy smile and am reminded of the depth of character that lies beneath.

I, too, believe in your dreams for a better tomorrow, and like you, I hope to see you succeed in all that you put your hands to. Your dreams deserve to be heard because you exist in our world, and we want to hear your voice.

There are many days in your life when you go through a routine: you get up, stumble through your morning, and get off to work, etc. Friday was not one of those days. I am here in Dominican Republic for the fourth year of Hero Holiday, and yet again, my heart has been touched and my understanding has been challenged. This year I am again taking groups of students out to the local garbage dump, where about 75 people, who are now my friends, work and spend their day trying to eek out a living by gathering the food, collecting the bottles for money, and even finding shoes and clothes. They make less than a dollar a day, and many of them are single parents, supporting many hungry children. It is in this place that we have discovered many profound lessons: we have seen the pain of poverty, felt the hurt of injustice, and experienced the anger that comes when you see your friends hurting and exploited.
As our truck pulled up, my anxious Hero Holidayers’ weren’t quite sure what to expect. We were coming out to help the workers collect bottles so that they can generate more income, but would they accept us? Would we offend them? Would we help them or get in their way? In my mind were different questions: Would it still be the same people there? And if they were, I couldn’t decide whether to just be happy to see them again, or sad that this is where they still were, and in the world in which we find ourselves the answers are not so clear.
This garbage dump is a harsh take on reality at the best of times, and in that place, I met new faces and reunited with familiar ones, and chose to just be glad to be among them and do what I could with what I had. Some people are here because they can’t even survive in Haiti-they literally have nothing but what they are wearing, and to them, they can’t understand why people like us would want to take the time to come to people like them.
But, as I watched these incredible Canadian youth that came with me that day, I was once again in awe of the beauty of compassion and solidarity. They eagerly approached the people and asked them if they could help them collect bottles, and began to spread out through the garbage dump. Through the haze and heat I could see them: side by side with the people, Nikes beside unmatched and torn shoes, gloved hands beside worn and scarred hands, eager smile reaching out to shy, bashful smile…and it was a thing of beauty.
As we later talked about the experience, there were tears and laughter as we recalled how this day helped to shift our focus and cause us to see fulfillment in a different light: the feeling of collecting enough bottles to help a single mom double her income that day, the exhilaration of being able to communicate with someone despite the language barrier, and most of all, the understanding that comes from walking in someone else’s shoes.

Finally, they had arrived…all 107 of them. We had waited all day to get to this point, and in typical style, they were 2 hours later than we had agreed upon! But, we reasoned with ourselves, the point was that they were here now!
It was the last day of our time with them, and the day before Good Friday. Our Hero Holiday team had spent the past hour hiding 1200 Easter eggs and about 150 marshmallow candies on a one acre piece of land that we were staying on. They hid them for the kids that were coming to say good-bye to us after spending 10 amazing days together. These children had impacted our lives in such an incredible and unique way that it was very difficult for us to quantify what it meant to each of us. They had taught us so much about courage, resilience, and hope- and they had taught us that you can trust again after incredible pain and tragedy. These children and their leaders had become some of our personal heroes.

When they came running down the steps to meet us on the cleared area, we were anxious as we saw the sun quickly fading and worried that we wouldn’t have enough time to finish our plans. As they sat in front of me and the translator, they were completely unaware of what I was going to tell them. For them, it was enough to be able to see us again and be together. The thought of what I was going to get to tell them even got me excited! I began to tell them about the tradition for Canadian children about hunting for hidden Easter eggs. I explained to them that this weekend, all over the world, millions of children would be doing this, and because we loved them so much, we wanted them to have the chance to do it first.
I explained to them where to look and showed them what the candy looked like, and as we handed out the little bags to collect the candies in, some of them started to quiver with excitement and anticipation! A couple of the little girls were holding and squeezing each other’s hands as they tried to contain their excitement. We counted together out loud to three, and then I yelled “Go!”.
It was mayhem! They squealed and laughed and shouted as they jumped over bushes, rolled on the grass, and dove under plants to find the candies they had been promised were there. I actually started to cry as I thought about how beautiful it was to hear them laugh and play like this, and how privileged we were to be able to do this for them.
As I was drinking in the scene of chaos and ecstatic joy, I was brought back to a little dose of bizarre reality: one of the staff at the hotel where we were doing this with the children, in an effort to try to give us some mood music and background cheering thought he would start up the giant, rusty sound system and blare the music at the maximum volume. A nice gesture…until I realized it was the Black Eyed Peas…singing ‘My Humps’!

I am currently in northern Thailand, working with an incredible Hero Holiday group that is an awesome crew of people eager to make a difference in the world in which they find themselves. Along the way, however, we are finding ourselves in the company of unsung heroes that have impacted us beyond words.

In the beginning of one or our Hero Holiday promo videos, we have a quote that says, “A hero is someone who understands the responsibility that comes with his freedom”. This quote has been ringing in my ears as we continue to meet people who are risking much to do whatever they can. We are working with volunteers and staff who willingly give up all for the sake of a child’s life, and for the sake of their safety. It is humbling and beautiful to be a part of, and it is the reality of the double edged sword that action requires when you want to make a difference.

In our North American culture, we are often lulled to sleep as we are over-stimulated with drama and sensationalism. We create our own romantic view of what the world must be like and we have a hard time grasping that our form of justice is not the justice that the rest of the world is measured by. We claim to believe that every child has the right to safety, freedom, and to be heard, yet our world often leaves the majority of our children living in fear, abandonment, exploitation and silence…is this what justice is? The children that we are working with have faced all forms of exploitation, poverty and abandonment, and yet the thing that is captivating all of us is their incredible capacity to love beyond that. The simple act of holding a small hand in trust can make all the difference in the world. The simple beauty of a smile and loving touch can change everything. My goodness, we have even learned that ice cream can change the world! Yet, despite all of these simple things, the problems that they face are beyond complex - they are astronomically overwhelming! Exploitation and slavery is so deep and multi-tentacled that it is hard to figure out where one problems stops and another one starts. Poverty would seem like it is so straightforward, but it is an insatiable beast that is continually devouring innocent lives around the world, and without us recognizing how late the hour is, it will never be stopped. In the world in which we are working right now, life is unstable on every front: the good guys often turn out to the bad guys, the police take a vow to serve and protect, and then follow through with that vow by owning the brothels and trafficking agencies that exploit the women and children, and most of the population is unaware of what is happening in front of their eyes.

Yet, in the midst of this, we work among a company of heroes: bright lights in the darkness that fight at this monster day after day, week after week, month after month. Every life saved makes it worth it. Every hope restored is precious. Every life that is given reprieve from the pain and continual oppression is valuable. It is hard work, and to make any headways at all, it will require the international community to actually care enough to be a part of the solution, rather than feeding the problem. But I believe it can be dealt with at every level and these people here have helped to solidify that belief.

These next 10 days we are working with over 100 children: we are doing English camps, helping to build some structures at the children’s homes, and even going camping with 100+ kids (yikes!). These two weeks are only really like a ‘wrinkle in time’ but these precious few days can change lives beyond what we see in front of us. So, today as I was lying awake at 5:00 AM and staring at the ceiling (jet lag sucks!) I was thinking about what a privilege it is to be alive, to be safe, and to be loved. And in the midst of all those thoughts, I felt the undeniable, unmistakable conviction that we were created to make a difference, and this is only the beginning of the possibilities!