I have no words to describe the sight that I saw yesterday morning by my house and later at the barrio yesterday. My heart hurts from the pain I felt for their despair and yet, I’m pretty sure that I’m more hurt than they are when we cast our eyes upon one another.

Yesterday morning I had to take the garbage out. It was only 5:30 and the garbage won’t be there until 6:00. So I stayed out to make sure the street dogs won’t get in the trash. I was just admiring the beautiful sky with streaks of gold and different hues of blue and how the sun is already warming the day with its heat. My neighbor across the street was caressing her cat, while her dog studied them. I went back into the house and got my camera and tripod to record the scene.

Then he came. This thin man, with his worn out clothing and leather-like skin that’s clinging to his boney arms and his bike with two plastic bags tied to them stopped by my pile of trash. I didn’t know what he was doing at first, so I smiled at him as he smiled back at me. He gently opened the first one and carefully close it back up because he didn’t find anything that the needed. I looked at him and looked away for fear of not wanting to embarrass him or disturb the site before my eyes. I noticed that my neighbor went inside her house as soon as she saw him. In a few seconds, I know he would be gone. I don’t know why I did what I did, but I left my camera on the tripod by itself and ran into the house and grabbed my snack bars that I left on the dining table and gave it to him as he was about to leave.

I went about my day as usual. After the photography class with the kids, I went into the barrio with Kathy, Anielka, and a guest (and I hope to be our potential donor). As Anielka studied the kids’ progress on their home works and test scores I was taking photos as usual. Everything was good until we stopped at our last house. It was a house I’ve seen many times, but never went in nor have seen anyone there. There was a hammock only a few feet away from a pig that’s twice my size tied to a tree in the midst of what looks like rubbles for a kitchen and a house. I remember wondering how can an animal that size and humans can live so close to one another.

The little girl was there. She had her younger sister, who must be about a year old strapped to a chair while she rocks her other sibling who was sleeping quietly in the hammock. At the same time she was shooing away the flies that were constantly covering the sleeping child’s face. The one that was strapped to the chair started crying, so she released the child and held her and swayed the hammock again. Then she put her to the chair again, this time started stirring whatever it was she was trying to cook on the stove.

I felt detached as I snapped away with my camera and I couldn’t put my camera down. I know that holding my camera to cover part of my face is a gesture of me protecting my own emotions that was consuming me as I watched her eyes, how those big, brown eyes sparkle with so much sadness and how she constantly bites her nails as she looks at my camera.

Kathy said, "she is 10 years old and is in 3rd grade.  She often can't attend school since only sometimes does her sister-in-law babysit.  Before EI she was not in school and had not been for a couple of years. She misses a lot of school due to her mothers work hours and lack of help from her brother or sister in law."

For the first time since I’ve been here, I woke up crying this morning as I reflect back on what I've witnessed.  I cried for the man and for the little girl.  No words or pictures can express my apathy for them and the conditions of their lives.  Just seeing the humility of the man as he opens the garbage bags reminded me of my parents and what we did to survive. How we would go through people’s trash cans looking for cans to recycle and would get shooed away like animals by the owners.

It’s not fair that there’s such a gap between the haves and have-nots and to know that there are more people living in worst conditions than the people I’ve seen here breaks my heart even more. I looked across the street from the house I’m currently staying at and could catch a glimpse of what my next door neighbor’s place look like. They are living in rubbles with dirt floors and boarded up windows while we have this nice, pristine place to live in.

I felt overwhelmed, but made peace with myself later because I know I can’t let my guilt eat at my soul. Even though I’m only working with a handful of kids, I’m doing my little part to help the community out. I realize that if I just sit on my couch in the comfort of my own home in the US and wishing that I can make a difference and hope that someone else will do what I can’t commit myself to do, then I’m not living, I’m only existing. What I give is not in monetary because I can’t afford to do that yet…but the gift I give to the kids comes from my heart and the smiles I get from the kids when they see their photos is my reward. That for me is priceless.