Why We Do What We Do



Jenny Goeres
Bolivia – March 2009

When I was asked to write a short article about our trips to Bolivia I thought that I could either attempt to condense 5 trips to South America and around a thousand pictures into a paragraph or two by writing really, really tiny and by putting in hundreds of thumbnail pictures or I could focus on just one of the things that is important to me and that we hope to accomplish on these trips.  To do that I had to choose between water systems, the night shelter for street youth, agriculture projects, developing artists, schools, prisons, rag pickers at the dump, and the babies. . . . . . .

And the babies have been tugging at me since I walked into the nursery the first day of my trip last year. We had not been allowed in the infant nursery before.  They are very protective of the health of their littlest ones.  But last year they had 50 more abandoned infants than normal and they asked us, “Will you please, come to the nursery? Please help us hold the babies”. . 

Imagine if you will, a room filled with 35 babies under the age of 6 months –  rows of cribs line the walls with a double row down the center. 

The smell is – well – as you’d expect it. 

The 5 women, who work 12 hour shifts, do their best to keep the little ones spotlessly clean – it’s just that the babies are just as determined to get dirty. 
And the noise level?  In the 3 hours I helped on the first day, there were a couple of moments when everyone was quiet.  But as I carried one, held the bottle for another, jiggled the crib of a third with my toe and played peek-a boo with one more they wormed their way into my heart where they have stayed. 

The Bolivian people care deeply for their children so it is telling about life in a country with no social safety net, when there are so many babies in need.
But you know spending time with the babies and having them completely capture my heart wasn’t a totally unpredictable consequence of my trip, I am, after all, a mother of 5, and 4 of my children were delivered to us at the airport. But what I hadn’t sought out or expected to find on this journey was the large group of volunteers from all over the world working tirelessly on behalf of the poor.  They welcome us, scoop us up, and put us to work. I have traveled with volunteers from the US, Canada and Mexico and joined together with other North Americans, countless Europeans and the Bolivians giving their lives and time. 

So, although the group we traveled with this year was small we were still able to meet up with these friends of ours who are already there, they showed us their ongoing projects, found us work to fit our skills, and turned us loose to help.
But still if you had known me for a long time you wouldn’t have thought that I was the type the type to jump on a plane for South America to improve my Spanish.  After all, before the first trip my boundaries of adventure had extended only as far as British Columbia and Minnesota. 

Well, sometimes unanticipated things happen when you open yourself up to the possibilities.

When you let go, that’s when the adventure begins. 

I have found volunteering to be a wonderful practice in letting go of control.  When I am maneuvering in a different language and different culture there are always mistakes, misunderstandings and confusions – wrong translations of where I am needed, confusing directions in a taxi, mistakes in the amount of time it takes to get from one place to another in traffic without rules, but if I am listening, just when I think that I’m at the wrong place at the wrong time without the things I was supposed to bring -  if I pause, and look around, I find that I am right where I should be and I have all the supplies that I need. 

And that leads me to, for me, the most unexpected thing of all – that I have received so much more than I have been given – I have had the privilege of participating in faith and prayer in action, I have a group of international, like-minded friends to inspire me, projects that motivate and most of all a passion – I have the babies - a tiny hand is holding tightly to my pinky finger saying, “Don’t forget about me”, “Take care of me”  

 
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