Sunday, 4 March 2012

my heart aches...

I would love to post about my glorious excursion this weekend to the jungle... about the mountains and dense trees, about the monkeys and the amazing birds... but I will save that for another day because today I feel compelled to write about my friend Alberto.

I´m sure I have mentioned Alberto in a past post but in case I didn´t...

I met Alberto my first week in Esteli.  He came to my home to fix the lock on a door.  I was sitting on the sofa studying Spanish.  He spoke to me in Spanish which, of course, I didn´t understand.  Upon seeing the blank and somewhat panicky look on my face, he repeated his question... in English.  He had asked me what I was reading.  I told him that I had come to Esteli to learn Spanish.  He said he knew a little bit of English and that he would like to learn more but that there is no opportunity to practice.  I invited him to come later in the evening and that I would be willing to help him with English if he would be willing to help me with Spanish.

A wonderful friendship was born.

Alberto is 35 years old... married with two children.  He grew up, as most children do in Esteli, in a very poor family.  His mother has worked for many years as a nurse... his father died when Alberto was 13 years old from alcoholism.  He has two brothers and one sister.  When Alberto was about 14 years old he began working for a man building furniture.  He worked hard and learned the tricks of the trade.  Today, Alberto has his own furniture making business... the shop is located right next door to my home, providing ample opportunity for us to visit.

A few years ago, Alberto realized that the only way for him to get ahead in life was to leave Esteli.  He has always dreamed of building his own home.   He does not desire wealth, but rather just to be free of constant anxiety about money... when or if he would be able to buy food, gas, or the wood he needs to create furniture.

He made a decision to head for America... the land of opportunity.  On his first attempt, he made it as far as the Mexican border and was sent back to Nicaragua.  The second time, he paid someone from Esteli to take him.  This time he was successful and managed to make it to Atlanta where he lived and worked for two years.  During his time in Atlanta he worked installing wood flooring.  He lived in a small apartment with 10 people... sending small amounts of money home each week to help support his family.   He worked hard and managed, over a two year period, to save $10,000... a HUGE amount of money for him.  Unfortunately, he was eventually discovered by the authorities and, once again, sent back to Nicaragua.  He made an attempt to return once again, paying a man here $3,000 to take him.   I believe he was taken as far as Mexico.  From there he began walking across the desert, for the United States.  He says that he walked for 5 days... he had enough water for 2.  On the 5th day he thought he was going to die... that he would never see his family again.  Unfortunately/fortunately he was captured by the authorities once again.  Fortunately, because they gave him water, saving his life... unfortunately because it meant being sent back to Nicaragua. 

All was not lost as he still had enough money left to make a start at a decent life here.  He was able to purchase a used truck, some tools and rent a small shop to begin creating furniture.  I have visited his shop and seen the work he is doing.  He makes closets, beds, desks, doors and various other furnishings.  His work is amazing.  He earns almost no money.  I saw a closet he had made... it was gorgeous.  He was selling it for 8,000 cordobas... roughly equivalent to $400.00 dollars.  Once he paid for his supplies and paid the men working for him, he was left with about 2,000 cordabas... roughly equivalent to $100.00.  

Life is a struggle... every single day.  He has no money.  When he has work, his family eats... when he doesnt have work, they don´t.   He is very proud of his shop and the tools he uses... but they are very old and seem to me to be rather rustic.  If anything happens... if a tool breaks or his truck dies... he is totally and completely screwed.  He has no reserve.. no family to bail him out.  In fact, he is the person in his family that others come to for help AND despite his own sense of desperation, he is always willing to do what he can.  He has given what little he has to his brother, his mother and other family members.  Currently, Alberto´s uncle is in trouble with the law.  He was in jail and Alberto posted his bail... in the amount of 10,000 cordobas.   He doesn´t have to pay this unless his Uncle takes off... it is likely he will have to pay.

Recently, Alberto has started talking about heading for the United States again.  His heart breaks as he loves his family very much.  His daughter is 4 years old and his son only slightly older.  He says that if he goes there is a risk he will die or be killed.  His last experience was terrifying for him.  And yet, he doesn´t believe he has any other options.   If he wants to live his dream and find any kind of stability, he needs to go... but the cost is huge.

Alberto´s story is not much different from thousands of other people in Nicaragua... and millions of other people around the world.  The difference for me is that he is my friend.  I think about heading back to my life in Canada... to my wealth and privilege and I feel so so so guilty... and ashamed.  Ashamed of how much of my life I have spent caught up in spending money... buying stuff I don´t need.  My time in Nicaragua has been a huge huge reality check.  I am not more well off because I am special or because I deserve it or earn it... I am more well off (financially anyway) because I happened to have been born to a middle class family in Canada.. because I had the privilege of education... of a career doing what I love to do.  My life in Canada is not perfect and I have my own financial worries... but my worries in comparision to many of the people here are completely trivial.  I never worry about whether or not I can eat.  I never worry about having to leave my family and walk through the desert in hopes of making a few extra bucks. 

I am afraid for Alberto... and for his future.  I am also afraid that I will leave here, ease back into my life in Canada and forget what I have learned here.  I am afraid that I will, once again, be seduced into believing that my worth is related to how much stuff I have.... that soon I will be complaining because I can´t afford to have and do all the things I want to do.

This is what has been weighing on my heart... and taking up space in my mind.   I believe this is what God is calling me to reflect on... and to act on.  

Maybe tomorrow I will be called to reflect on the jungle experience... to feel again inspired by the absolute awesomeness of God´s creation.   Today I´m called to struggle...


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