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Bocaria. | Storytime with the children.

After meeting some of the faithful men and women and children in the small concrete church room, we were ready to head to the top of Bocaria. Standing at the bottom it didn't seem like it would be too hard of a climb, and watching people going up and down with large packs of plastic bottles on their heads, we were sure it would be fine. Climbing up was a little more challenging, especially as you constantly had to watch your step to prevent stepping on a sharp piece of glass or in other things. The path up was well trodden and after not too much trouble we reached the top.

I don't think any description could prepare me for the sight that met us as we stepped onto the top of the largest rubbish dump in the city. There was rubbish as far as the eye could see. In the distance the rubbish trucks were off-loading and surrounded by people eager to see if they could find something that could be of value or use. There were quite a few people up there, and small fires scattered around. The smell of smoke and rubbish made it an overwhelming experience for all senses. We prayed and then went to talk to people. We talked a bit to a young girl aroudn 10 years who was watching her little 7 month old sister while her mother walked back and forth with bags of rubbish. We approached a few other people but most were busy working or not interested. It broke my heart to see the state these people live in. And yet they have such worth. The mother's are there because it's the way they get food for their families, and I believe every single person working on that rubbish dump are doing so because they have no other way. And yet even doing so shows glimmers of hope. Hope that maybe their children will have a different future, and hope and belief that life is worth living and fighting for.

Words fall short of describing that morning on the dump, but what I do know is that coming back down to the small church room and seeing it full of children whose families work on that same rubbish dump, and who live in houses surrounding it, was such a joyful sight. There were many smiles and hugs, and where some might have found it hard to think of something to be joyful about in such a dire situation, they hadn't let their circumstances steal their joy. I was wearing a capulana (a piece of fabric wrapped around me like a skirt) and was having problems keeping it tucked in properly. One of the church ladies saw it and promptly helped me tie it securely. The gesture impacted me because it created a bond where we were suddenly just two women in a church where one helped the other, and a barrier was removed.

Driving back afterwards we were all pretty quiet. I think it was and will continue to be a lot to take in. And I hope that it really changes the way I see what I have and makes me more thankful, and hopefully more generous.

The evening we popped over to the dorm with 4-8 year old boys. Good to be with children who are in a secure place where the get three meals a day and have clothes that aren't ripped. I sat and read books to them, which was fun but also slightly challenging when you have a group of them all wanting attention at the same time. It's a large group (I think around 25 here also), but also here the Mozambican staff do an amazing job. I only stayed about an hour. The day had already taken a lot out of me. But it was good. It felt like it was a quality day and I was thankful for my food and my bed that night.

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