Chapter Nine - Trash or Treasure?

I hopped out of the truck and stood still, full of excitement mixed with curiosity and anticipation and a dash of panic after we'd parked near the top of this mountain of trash that is the San Pedro Sula landfill.  Glancing around I absorbed my surroundings; squinting in the incredibly bright sunlight, wisps of hair waving in the wind.

There was no natural protection from the sun and it bore down on us intensely despite the relative coolness of the midday heat.  The villagers trickled down towards us, the shape of their bodies entering my vision as they rose up over the horizon or exited obscure homes that blended into the landscape. 

One of our party announced our arrival over the loudspeaker and even more trickled down, lining up in front of the truck.  We prayed over the food, then distributed it.  The community received their food in orderly lines, taking their meals and water quietly with an occasional smile and a rare "Gracias", departing immediately to whence they had come.

We finished serving with food to spare, but we did not distribute it for fear of inciting a riot if some received more than others, for tensions were already high. I state this not as a testimony to the fallen nature of man but rather the constant competition for food.  The massive hill is made up entirely of trash, and everything the community needs to survive is found among it.  Their food, water, clothing, shelter is all found or built from the materials they find.  If there is no food or water, they do without.  Sometimes refuse from a restaurant will be dumped with toxic waste, and the whole community will eat it, and the whole community will get sick.  Generations have lived and died here, and many know no other way of life.

We walked down the road exploring.  The ground is yesterday's garbage, packed by feet and baked firm by the sun.  A truck lumbered up to the yard, and the men and children hollered and leaped on to the truck, taking full advantage of first dibs of the items it bore.  They yelled in happiness and fun as they climbed around on top of the lumbering vehicle.

We stood still for a while a the top talking.  Everyone here works side by side with cows (who live free, for the cows' diet makes their milk undrinkable), dogs and vultures in their search for food or other sellable goods.  While we stood there a mother and her son walked past us dragging a large bale of cardboard they'd found in their search among the garbage. They sort among the piles of trash for recyclable cardboard, plastic or bottles, and can make as much as 70 lempiras a day, or about USD $3.

A kindergartner is attending a new school run by this local church ministry we accompanied and is the first of his family to receive any form of formal education.  As many as 1600 have been counted living in this landfill, but based on what I saw I would guess there is currently about 3-400 permanent residents, with more living outside but still relying on the landfill to provide.  

What surprised me the most was the pride of this village.  They did not follow us around begging or even eyeing us for more, but some even laughed at us from their homes of tires and tarps.  When we asked them a question, they responded as you would.  Well, from what I could perceive, since I know so little Spanish.  But regardless, they went about their business, diligent in their jobs or relaxed in their rest.  

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But godliness with contentment is great gain.  For we brought nothing into this world, and it is certain we can carry nothing out.  And having food and raiment let us be therewith content.

1 Timothy 6:6-8
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Photos courtesy of Dalton Schnoor