Tuesday, November 4, 2014

God Blessed The Broken Road

            Step by step for over eight months I had walked this street. Sweat always protruding from my body into my nice white button-up shirt, begging for the dust and dirt that I kicked up to cling to it. Heat, sweat, exhaustion, and the dust are things I try to forget as I trudge once again down this forsaken spat of road. Bustling about up and down the road, the kids go about playing, oblivious to their surroundings. African Spirituals can be heard coming from people’s yards, showing their utmost devotion to their Creator. Women with baskets on their heads would yell out like a frenzied baboon, as they were passing through in, trying to make a couple of sales for the day. Older kids would go about doing their chores, going out and finding water, and then carrying by the gallons the water back to their homes. Adults take advantage of the islands of shade that are spotted up and down the road, chugging alcohol like it was nothing.

As we pass by, all of their eyes are upon us; kids and some adults’ eyes lit with curiosity while others look on in bewilderment. “Chinesh” one of them yells, and soon after follows the chorus of kids like a wild pack of dogs yelling the words Chinesh and Amigo. It always amuses me that we are mistaken for so many nationalities, predominantly the Chinese. Their childlike innocence was always in full display on this long, dusty road. They have never had much in their lives, exhibited by their appearance and mannerisms. The ragged clothes, or lack there of give little to no protection to the merciless beating of the sun’s rays on their skin. Like a bag of bones, they would run, jump, climb, and make toys out of garbage and admire them as if they had just gotten a new Xbox. Excitement always rises when we pass by, wearing beaming smiles with their cracked lips. They would always want fist bumps with the white aliens that would come into their world everyday, and be so excited like a celebrity had touched their hands. Giving them attention was like putting them on a stage, and they wanted to show you how cool they were like a talent show. Totally oblivious to the comforts of life, they go about like happy go-lucky kids in a candy store. Just happy to be alive and happy to have what little that they could call their own.

This sense of contentment and happiness rubbed and wore down on me with each step over the past eight months. How could these people be content and comfortable with such a way of living? The question ate at me each day as I turned onto that path. Observing the families and kids go about their daily lives as we walked each day on that road only amplified that question. Their tiny brick homes, that they probably laid brick for brick by themselves, was only an outward manifestation of what I thought was the state of their lives.  I felt such pity for them for not being able to experience the comforts and privileges that I have lived with my whole entire life. Wasted potential is all I could think of as I stared at each person that went about their business on that road.

Finally, one more trip down this road opened up my eyes that I already thought were open. Watching a family cooking and laughing together as they sat on plastic lawn chairs in their yard wasn’t anything out of the ordinary that I had already seen on that road. But within that family, I could see my family doing the exact same thing but under a few slight different circumstances. Their meal was nothing more than rice and beans, nothing in comparison to my family’s dinners, but they were having a special family bonding moment, like many times my family has experienced. The feelings of tenderness and love were easily exhibited between each other, forging the bonds of true affection.  The companionship and unity transcended the dismal circumstances surrounding them, and they were truly happy. Their living conditions were not the shackles that held them captive but actually liberated them.

They did not have the hindrances that are designed to constantly entertain a person everyday and tune out everyone around them. Their lives reflected the desert travels of Nephi’s family, where all they were left with was the bare minimum. In these circumstances their love for each other grew and they praised their Creator for everything they had. Whatever happens and whatever circumstances people experience, happiness is always right there for the taking. Always available, and always sought after, but most of the time sought for in the wrong mediums. I now miss that forsaken spat of road, for truly God blessed that broken road.


  1. I felt the essay took a turn for purpose when you posed the question of how the kids could be so happy and content with life. Your exact words used to ask the question were fantastic I thought. I could feel the inner struggle you had to answer that question. Then of course in the conclusion it wasn't something drastic or new that finally gave you that answer. Great job describing the street and the characteristics that make it what it is.

  2. I agree with the previous comment; the way this post is directed at reflection caused me to associate those feelings with my own past experiences and personal life questions!