Day 3: Serving in the Informal Settlements
Mid week, mid trip, and it seems like we are hitting our groove. Our devotion today was Matthew 18:1-6. God continues to feed us with such relevant words to prepare our hearts to do His service. The disciples asked Jesus who was the greatest in the kingdom of heaven. Instead of giving them an answer, He called to a child and instructed the disciples to make themselves as little children to gain entry into the kingdom of heaven. The sticking point for me came in verse five: "And whoever welcomes one such child in my name welcomes me." Jesus loves to say the same thing in many different ways, and this is just another reminder of how we must be brought to our knees in humility. My prayer was to be a child of God amongst children of God.
Today, we are going to two sites in the informal settlements of Manila. We were only planning to visit two of these communities, but one look out of the window of the car and you'll quickly realize how commonplace this is. In America, you see informal settlements in places like Skid Row, but those communities are largely a result of mental health and substance abuse, in areas with somewhat stable climates, where rain is a rarity and a Starbucks sits on the nearest street corner. So my American mind could not comprehend a reality in which this is just "normal" for the Philippines. We think, "Oh, it's poverty and corruption," but... how? Nothing a quick chat with the local pastors wouldn't fix.
As a result of years of systemic government corruption, real estate and development are not viable investments in the Philippines. Money funds development, development is stalled by greedy politicians and red tape, people come and settle on the developed land, production stalls, and the government awards the land to the settlers. In other instances, people lose significant amounts of money to scammers who claim to be "developing" but are really just collecting a check.
This has led to full communities of shacks constructed from the trash and scraps found in neighboring dumps and lakes. The homes are strung together and stacked on top of one another, with utilities being a rarity. As we walked to our site, we did our best to avoid the "bombs" as they call them. Really, it's poop, but there was no avoiding it. Nobody to clean it up. The rain has taken on that mantle, not to wash it away, but to mix it into the dirt, pulling the trash from streets and homes at higher elevations along with it. Because of the lack of development, there is an extreme job shortage. Minimum wage positions are reserved for people with four-year college degrees. Employers stereotype their workforce, hiring only people with "face cards" (another way of saying attractive). As a result, these communities are essentially left without hope, propping up small cottage businesses and selling whatever they can source to make enough to cover the utilities they barely have and feed the families that need to eat. The only thing that can help these communities is a radicalization of God, which is exactly what we hope to share.
Today was different in the sense that the church team had us dance to kids' Bible songs before we did our Jonah play. As fun as it was, I really had a battle with my flesh. I got poop on my leg pretty early on, and in a moment of full vulnerability I tell you that I was counting the minutes until I could take a shower, let alone get access to running water to wash it off. But as I was scooping porridge from the large pot into tiny cups for the children to have a hot lunch, sweating from the entire surface area of my body, I forgot about the poop on my leg. I forgot about the air conditioned home I am already a week removed from. I forgot about the freedom to sit in a park with grass, in clothes that fit and are styled how I like them. I forgot about my well-fed daughter and wife living in an area that is relatively safe from crime. I was consumed by the realization that once we leave, these kids don't come with us. These parents are still helplessly without jobs. This community is at the mercy of the weather, and if a monsoon hits, water could reach as high as the first floor of every building you see in the pictures.
The local evangelists, teens on fire for Jesus, asked Matt how long the drive was. He responded with an hour, to which they replied, "Oh, that's worth it for Jesus." That fired me up.
This church isn't a mission team. They are in it with them. They're neighbors. They're living right alongside them in the same conditions. They carry an attitude that we all need to be reminded of. After this trip wraps up, I'm fortunate not only to return to security and comfort, but also to leave with their testimony. To share what the children of God are enduring here, in a landscape where only God's hope remains.
Once we finished up on site, we treated the local team to lunch. We then heard that the team we are coming alongside on Friday was in need of help packing backpacks for the kids, so we pivoted and worked alongside them to fill 450 backpacks. We ate dinner, and after a long day, we arrived home. I didn't get my shower until midnight, but by the end of the day, I had barely remembered to take one. There were more important things God had on my mind.
