Why I sponsor a child in times of crisis
At the beginning of the year the recession was not affecting my economy so I took a trip to my native Colombia. I decided to shy away for a day from all the meetings with friends and family that are the norm when you return as an expat, and set aside time to meet my sponsor child. It was one of the best decisions I have made in a long time, it didn’t emptied my pockets and it certainly made a deposit of laughter on my soul’s bank account.
From the information provided by Children International, I had learned of the dire conditions in which 12 year old Brayan has to live. But coming from a third world country and having been in contact with extreme poverty, I thought his situation was not that bad. The documents said he lived in a concrete edification with running water and sewer, something many poor children don’t even have. Then I went to his house. The small one story building was nested in one of the poorest “barrios” of Barranquilla, a warm coastal city on the Atlantic Ocean. To get there our friendly driver provided by Children International drove through a maze of dirt streets. His mother and sisters were waiting for us. The oldest sister is 22 and already has two small children, three and four years old, that Brayan has to watch over. The other sister Mayerlys is 14 and she accompanied us to our activities for the day.
In the small living room/dining room/kitchen I learned that the mother was a single parent who could hardly work as a maid because of a carpal tunnel syndrome caused by years of hard work at a fish processing plant, no workers compensation of course. She told us how they survive on the oldest brother meager income as a construction worker. Then she showed us the rest of the house, meaning one bedroom, one bathroom and the patio. Two double beds that seem about to crumble sleep all the people I have mentioned above. The back of the house faces a polluted “arroyo”, a canalized small river where people throw away their garbage. You can’t imagine the smell. But that’s not the bad part. Small hoards of drug dealers and consumers, juveniles most of them, cruise up and down the walls of the “arroyo” burning away their lives.
For a day I had the chance to take Brayan away from all of this and show him a good time. We went to the north, the rich part of the city. I took him shopping, and for a moment Brayan was a good lucking model coming in and out of the fitting room until we found a cool outfit. Then it was across the street for shoes. The driver and our Children International escort took us to a nice restaurant where we enjoyed a buffet lunch. For fun we decided to go to an ice skating ring, which I thought was ironic in the tropical weather of Barranquilla. We had fun and Brayan turned out to be a great skater. 
During the visit he was very respectful and shy most of the time, answering my questions with monosyllables, but towards the end his funny personality started to show up. Time flies and I never got to see his “champeta” dance moves or his talent with the bright blue soccer ball I brought him as a gift. On the way back, I advised him to stay in school and study hard. His family was waiting for him when we reached the small blue house. It was tough to drop him off back to his poverty stricken reality, while I got to go back to my nice life.
In this time of crisis we complain about the lack of money all day. But this is only a cycle, a bad patch, a rough spot.
For millions of children around the world their everyday lives are a constant crisis, like “What are we going to eat today? Do I have to share that ruined bed with my sister again? Or do I have to walk for 30 minutes under the scorching sun to get to school?” Now that I am out of a job and have to rethink my spending habits, the logical solution would be to suspend my charity contributions. But I cannot. As bad as I may have it, it doesn’t compare to what little Brayan has to go through. Giving him hope, watching the pictures of the fun time we had together, it’s what keeps my spirits high in these tough times. And every day I am making withdrawals from my soul’s bank account.
From the information provided by Children International, I had learned of the dire conditions in which 12 year old Brayan has to live. But coming from a third world country and having been in contact with extreme poverty, I thought his situation was not that bad. The documents said he lived in a concrete edification with running water and sewer, something many poor children don’t even have. Then I went to his house. The small one story building was nested in one of the poorest “barrios” of Barranquilla, a warm coastal city on the Atlantic Ocean. To get there our friendly driver provided by Children International drove through a maze of dirt streets. His mother and sisters were waiting for us. The oldest sister is 22 and already has two small children, three and four years old, that Brayan has to watch over. The other sister Mayerlys is 14 and she accompanied us to our activities for the day.
In the small living room/dining room/kitchen I learned that the mother was a single parent who could hardly work as a maid because of a carpal tunnel syndrome caused by years of hard work at a fish processing plant, no workers compensation of course. She told us how they survive on the oldest brother meager income as a construction worker. Then she showed us the rest of the house, meaning one bedroom, one bathroom and the patio. Two double beds that seem about to crumble sleep all the people I have mentioned above. The back of the house faces a polluted “arroyo”, a canalized small river where people throw away their garbage. You can’t imagine the smell. But that’s not the bad part. Small hoards of drug dealers and consumers, juveniles most of them, cruise up and down the walls of the “arroyo” burning away their lives.
For a day I had the chance to take Brayan away from all of this and show him a good time. We went to the north, the rich part of the city. I took him shopping, and for a moment Brayan was a good lucking model coming in and out of the fitting room until we found a cool outfit. Then it was across the street for shoes. The driver and our Children International escort took us to a nice restaurant where we enjoyed a buffet lunch. For fun we decided to go to an ice skating ring, which I thought was ironic in the tropical weather of Barranquilla. We had fun and Brayan turned out to be a great skater. 
During the visit he was very respectful and shy most of the time, answering my questions with monosyllables, but towards the end his funny personality started to show up. Time flies and I never got to see his “champeta” dance moves or his talent with the bright blue soccer ball I brought him as a gift. On the way back, I advised him to stay in school and study hard. His family was waiting for him when we reached the small blue house. It was tough to drop him off back to his poverty stricken reality, while I got to go back to my nice life.In this time of crisis we complain about the lack of money all day. But this is only a cycle, a bad patch, a rough spot.
For millions of children around the world their everyday lives are a constant crisis, like “What are we going to eat today? Do I have to share that ruined bed with my sister again? Or do I have to walk for 30 minutes under the scorching sun to get to school?” Now that I am out of a job and have to rethink my spending habits, the logical solution would be to suspend my charity contributions. But I cannot. As bad as I may have it, it doesn’t compare to what little Brayan has to go through. Giving him hope, watching the pictures of the fun time we had together, it’s what keeps my spirits high in these tough times. And every day I am making withdrawals from my soul’s bank account.
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