Solo Pan

This afternoon was my first weekend to be able to go to the kid's club in a very poor area of Guadalajara.  I knew we weren't in the cushy part of town anymore when I noticed city streets that were made of dirt, and trees which sat squarely in the middle of some of these streets.  I didn't feel there was any way I could be of much assistance, and part of me felt like turning around to head back home the entire trip over.  After all, I wasn't able to speak more than a few broken phrases, and there were several other girls there to help.

 

 We arrived at a small concrete house with almost no doors and no running water, and there were already about three children there.  A gentleman greeted us at the sidewalk then quickly left to get us water to clean with while some of the girls played fooseball with the children.  I grabbed a wet rag, and started wiping dust off of seats, then settled myself into a small room with a few toys where a few boys were playing with an old hot wheels set.  Almost immediately, one of the boys pulled out a small tin of BINGO, and handed one of my friends and I a card with some tokens.  I was somehow able to descipher most of the numbers (in Spanish, remember?) and finished the game, when another little boy tossed a little blue ball across the room to me.

 

I played catch with Diego (the little boy's name) for a few minutes before we were all called into the largest room of the house.  I slid into the living room which was a completely concrete room that was sunken in the middle, creating a ledge for everyone to sit at while my friend Jaque explained the craft to everyone.  It wasn't much.  In fact, it was just a few boxes of tricolored pasta and some sturdy string.  Tara (and I, I must admit) figured that this couldn't possibly captivate them for more than four or five minutes.  We were completely wrong.  Everyone was engrossed in their work, and some children made several necklaces, bracelets, and even rings.  When one of the children noticed that I didn't have a necklace, he scooped up a small pile of pasta, turned toward me, and continued his necklace at my feet so I could make one with him.  I was beginning to feel a little more useful, and it wasn't for my contributions as much as my presence.  It didn't matter that I couldn't tell him a single thing.

 

After we finished crafts, sang a few songs (I accidentally pulled the power cord out of the wall with my awesome dance moves), and listened to the message together, one of the Mexican volunteers started passing out sandwiches and juice.  I helped pass cups out and pick up trash while the children ate, then played my first ever game of living room soccer with Diego and one of his friends.  During this time of everything winding down, I was at the fooseball table watching an intense game brewing.  One of the little boys asked for another sandwich, to which the volunteer immediately obliged.  He returned to watch the "match", and made a funny face when he bit down into his sandwich.  He opened up, and revealed nothing inside.  Megan (one of my friends) laughed with him, and cried out "Solo pan!", which means "only bread".  It was hilarious.  The volunteer handed him a new sandwich, and he put the peices of bread around it and began to eat.

 

"Solo pan."  It wasn't much, but even a couple of pieces of bread gave us all something to enjoy.

 

"Solo pan," kinda like the cup of water in Matthew 10:42.  My BINGO and soccer playing, juice passing and bench wiping didn't amout to very much either, but I guess that's not really the point.  The point was being there.  I'm so glad I was.

 

-Holly