El Salvador – land of the Saviour

A country of beauty and potential, but filled with fear and violence. Yet hope is stirring in the form of a small network of people, striving to bring hope to street children and their families. This blog will follow the journey of Toybox as it stands shoulder to shoulder with the people of El Salvador, providing support, funding and friendship as we work together to help bring about a world with no street children.

Follow the journey with your friendly Toybox guides, Jess and Stephen! We will be travelling out to El Salvador this February with Adrian and Bridget Plass, so please follow this blog to keep up with our adventures!

Monday 26^th October

I can’t believe it, but this is likely to be my last blog entry on this trip.  It is almost time to come home.  But I won’t say goodbye quite yet, because there are still stories to tell….

The Good Treatment Gathering

It was a great weekend of activities.  On Saturday there was a morning conference with many church, community and NGO leaders (including Toybox and Viva) about the Good Treatment Towards Children campaign that will be happening next year.  There were several speakers including government officials, psychologists, pastors – and several of the children also spoke about activities they had been doing  around the theme.  It was a really positive event – and an excellent start to building the momentum for next year’s campaign.

In the afternoon there was a workshop for the Ambassadors at the office in which they learnt about their rights, did short sketches and heard a bit about Toybox.  Then on Sunday we spent some more time with the Ambassadors taking part in a special campaign they had devised themselves.

Last but not least – I attempt primary school level maths!

So, on Monday afternoon we went to visit our very last project.  I was expecting to drive to the edge of the city again, where the run down slum area is; but instead we headed towards the centre of town.  As we fought our way through the traffic, Andrew and I held our breath and exclaimed over near-misses.  Lima really does have the worst driving I have ever seen…

Anyway, we got out of the taxi near the central market – walked through the stalls selling bloodied meat and bits of chicken.  It was loud, smelly and bright with white lights that lit up the butchered meat.  I wondered where on earth we were going.  Then we headed underground and through a car park – dingy and grim.  This was getting even stranger…

Then, the project appeared – the Central Reference Centre.  It was like a box of light in the darkness of the car park.  We knocked on the door, the barred gate was opened and we stepped into a happy, busy, mass of children doing their homework.  I was dragged in to ‘help’, which would have been fine – except for the fact that they were doing maths!!  After quickly re-learning long multiplication I was able to help (I think) – though I never saw whether the answers were right or not – maths was never my strong point!

The project leader explained that all these children have parents who work selling things in the centre of town.  They come here to do their homework after school – a far better option than going out onto the streets.  Then the leader showed us the play room which was funded by Toybox, where children can come and play after doing their work.  She said it is like heaven for them, because they don’t have any toys of their own.  She also described the smiley face awards system, which is so important for children who rarely get encouragement from their parents, or from anyone else.

God’s Spectacles

In the office on Monday morning we had a time of devotion run by the team before I did the final communications presentation of the trip.  It was lovely to spend some time praying and sharing our thoughts.

One of the things that was shown was a short film about a man who is having a bad day.  Everything seems to be going wrong for him.  Someone steals his parking space, the queue for coffee is massive…  You can hear his thoughts as he gets grumpier and grumpier.  Then a mysterious stranger arrives with a pair of spectacles.  When the man puts them on, he can suddenly perceive everyone’s thoughts – their fears, sadness and concerns.  He is overwhelmed by it all, and changes his ways to try and help – rather than focussing on himself.

It made me think that when we are living in the UK with everything we need, it can be very easy to block out other people’s realities.  I know that I do it.  We need to take the time to put on God’s spectacles ourselves, and perceive what is happening in other countries, other cities, other parts and corners of the world.

I have been fortunate to come to Bolivia and Peru and see things for myself – to wear God’s spectacles for a while.  I hope this blog has given you a small window into the realities I have seen.

Thank you for reading and following what has been going on here in Bolivia and Peru with the work of Toybox and the street children.  I will try to post a few more pictures before I leave…

Gracias y un abrazo grande

Emily

Friday night on the streets

We gathered at the office at about 7pm, ate bread rolls with hot chicken in, and drank tea in preparation. There was an air of expectation that grew as we made our journey to a nearby house where the team gather before going out. After a quick chat and some prayer we headed out – walking to the centre of town where we would find the children.

We walked very fast. There were six of us, striding through the city at top speed. I could feel a kind of bold expectation in the air – an eagerness that had an edge of aggression. It was quite strange and hard to define. We had our hoods up and our zips done right up to our chins – it was very cold. I really didn’t know what to expect, but I was full of nervous energy and ready for anything.

It felt a bit like striding through central London – cars, lights, people everywhere, police sirens in the distance. As we walked the area began to get dodgier and seedier. There was more litter in the road, bad smells and drunks on the corners. We also began to accumulate children. At first just one little boy, who said nothing but matched our pace with surprising ease; then some girls who hung back from talking, but followed us nonetheless.

The girls

Once we had gathered enough people we called a stop. The group that had formed was mostly girls. I saw one girl getting out of a car driven by a much older man. At first I thought she was being dropped off by her Dad, then the realisation dawned. She was actually being used for sex. Almost all the girls we met were plying this trade. We were told that the youngest girl doing this that the team met was 13 years old. When a certain girl was asked why she was doing this, the girl replied: “So that I can buy nappies for my baby. So that we can both live.”

Many of these young people have been driven out of their homes by violence or abuse. What other option do they have?

Anyway, one of the street team had brought a guitar and she struck up a tune. As we sang together a blue flashing light reflected off the face of the girl next to me. A police motorbike had pulled up and was watching us intently. I half expected us to be rounded up and put in a police cell for the night – apparently this happens quite a lot. But today we got away with it.

I chatted to a few of the girls a bit but it was quite difficult. They were not very responsive as many of them were taking drugs. For the first time I saw someone actually sniffing surreptitiously from a bag of glue. I was quite surprised by how secretive she was about it, as though she was ashamed. “Nothing to be ashamed of,” I thought to myself. “If I was forced to be a prostitute in order to survive I would make sure I was high on glue when I worked too.”

Then three boys who had been playing football nearby decided that it would be more fun to throw stones at each other, so we moved on.

The boy musicians

Our next stop was on a corner where a group had gathered on a flight of steps. In contrast to the last group, most of these were boys – and many had instruments which they use to earn their living. The atmosphere was lighter and happier than it had been with the girls. I pondered whether that was because the boys are fortunate enough to earn their living in a way that is dignified rather than degrading.

We met two boys called Andreas and Josh who used to be living permanently on the streets, but are now back with extended family. They told how they used to take drugs, but are now clean. They come back when the street team is out, just to say hello. Many of the other boys were too drunk or drugged to have a decent conversation with, sadly.

As well as the boys there was a young teenaged Mum who I chatted to quite a bit. Her daughter Leah was one year old - just starting to toddle around the place and teetering in that haphazard way that toddlers do. The Mum obviously loved her daughter – she had found a special hat and scarf from somewhere that she showed me proudly.

However, at times the girl just seemed to switch off from being a mother – letting her daughter run towards the traffic or down the street. The most alarming moment was when Leah started climbing the concrete steps. Her Mum was sitting right next to her, but just didn’t seem to register what was happening. When Leah fell, I picked her up. After that some deep instinct to protect came out in me and I spent the entire rest of the evening with one eye on Leah, making sure she was ok and not injured or damaged…yet.

I dreamt about tiny Leah that night, and Saturday night – dreamt that I was following her, worrying about her, catching her as she fell…

Is it enough?

So we brought food and chatted, sang songs and prayed with these groups. But I couldn’t help thinking – is this enough? Shouldn’t we be doing more? Shouldn’t we be making suggestions or referrals, handing out cards or something, anything to help these children out of their situation?

I have been reflecting on this question over the whole weekend, which is why I haven’t blogged this before now.

From chatting to the street working group here in Lima – and also in Cochabamba and Oruro – I think the answer is that the best approach for the teams is to simply get alongside the young people in these situations. A street educator can use play, song, psychological techniques like Wilma showed us in Oruro, to try and reach the children. But in the end it must be the individual child’s choice to stop drinking and taking drugs, or to go to a shelter and leave the street.

I have so much admiration and respect for the street educators who do this work every day. One evening was emotionally draining and testing – let alone any longer.

Your support of Toybox will help the street teams who are working to do even more for children who have found themselves in such dark places.

Gracias

Emily