The Smell of Poverty

I once heard a well-known pastor say that it was good for him to travel somewhere in the world at least twice a year so that he could “smell poverty.” He realized that living in the manicured suburbs surrounding his large church insulated him from the realities facing much of the world.

Pam and I have discovered living in Costa Rica that it’s much easier to “smell poverty.” We don’t have to travel across the globe, it’s as close as just out side the gates of our well-protected neighborhood complex.

A humanitarian crisis that has not received much international attention has been the mass exodus of refugees fleeing Venezuela. Due to an economic collapse from failed Marxist policies, seven million Venezuelans have sought refuge in other countries.

I first became aware of this crisis on our last trip to Chile. At one of the church-services we attended a group of 10 Venezuelans were welcomed after having traveled by bus from their home country. They were professionals: teachers, accountants and computer types. But the situation in Venezuela was so desperate, they fled with the clothes on their back seeking refuge in Chile. The church we attended that evening had marshalled resources to purchase clothes, kitchen appliances and furniture to help them get settled.

This crisis continues unabated. We see it every day in Costa Rica. Venezuelan refugees are on almost every street corner pleading for food and money. Most are families with small children. By hook or crook, they have gotten this far from Venezuela. Now, they are intent on walking 2,800 miles north from Costa Rica to the USA—the promise land. Seeing these families huddled under umbrellas to protect their children from the sun and rain is heartbreaking. I wish I had an answer that could make a difference.

Now, before you stop reading this, I want you to know that I believe it makes sense for the USA to have a reasonably well-protected border. I understand that. On one level a border wall makes complete sense.

But Pam and I are sitting on the other side of that wall right now living in Costa Rica. And seeing these refugees in the streets pleading for help makes the issue much more visceral. This is not about politics. It’s about people. It’s about children.

Imagine the horrific conditions that precipitated the Venezuelans’ risky and potentially life-threatening journey. Can you imagine how tenuous things must have been “back home” that you would throw caution to the wind and walk thousands of miles to the USA with only a backpack on your shoulders?

When we lived in the USA, we stopped watching the news because it was so depressing. Not watching the news allowed us to insulate ourselves from the pain much of the world experiences. But we can’t do that here. We see and smell the pain daily.

Last week, we took ECF’s two Rooted groups into downtown San Jose to feed the homeless. Our group of 20+ walked narrow streets littered with homeless providing them with a welcomed sandwich and bottled water. One street in particular caught my attention. From one end to the other both sides were smothered by Venezuelan refugees.  I asked where do they go to the bathroom? Where do they shower? What do they eat? No one seemed to know. If that sight doesn’t break your heart, you’d have to be dead.

I said a moment ago that I wish I had an answer. I wish I knew a way to solve this crisis. But I don’t.

However, I am glad that I can’t hide from these problems like I did when I lived in suburbia. Shutting off the news didn’t help anyone. It was only protecting my heart from hurting.

But I think if Jesus was walking the earth today, he would walk the streets of San Jose, like we did the other night. I think Jesus wouldn’t bury his head in the sand like I did when I lived in Sparks. I think Jesus would hand out as many sandwiches as he could, help in whatever way he could and mitigate as much suffering as he could.

Pam and I are grateful to God on many levels for bringing us to Costa Rica. In previous blog posts, we’ve talked about the beauty of our new home country. We’ve talked about the joy and growth in our new ministry. There are countless positive things that we have experienced in this new chapter of our lives.

But we’re also thankful that the Lord has brought us closer to pain, closer to hunger, closer to things that we used to shut out of our hearts and minds. It’s not easy, but we are better for it. I think the pastor I heard long ago was right. Everyone should be in a place where they can “smell poverty” at least a few times a year. In our case, it happens every day.

Warmly,

Steve and Pam