Machetes, Toes, and Coconuts

Part IV

I began the day by asking the Lord to help me bring joy and reflect his love. I guess I should do this at home, too, and maybe I would be less…bitchy? I don’t know why I did this in El Salvador, but not so much at home. Maybe because I was way out of my comfort zone and desperate for his help.

  I arrived at the next build site with an unfamiliar but welcome sense of exhilaration. The anxiety parasite had been replaced with an invisible pacemaker that pumped joy into my heart. We would be building a home for Maria Magdalina and her young son, Gebrielle. They were living in a tiny, lean-to shack on her brother’s property. Her beautiful, shy smile hinted that she was more comfortable helping than being helped. 

As we began working, an El Salvadorian worker pointed to a sack of golden coconuts. Eduardo told us that Maria Magdalina had purchased the coconuts for us. Nobody on our team was interested in the coconuts. At first, I felt guilty taking something from someone who had so little. I was also afraid of experiencing explosive digestive surprises. More experienced people on the team had shared stories about spending days with diarrhea due to eating local produce.

Raffe, the jolly El Salvadorian foreman, set up some metal tubing. Then he smiled and handed me a drill. I knew this was a job he could have done faster himself, but he made me feel useful and included. What a blessing it is to feel useful and included.

I walked past the lonely pile of coconuts and thought about Maria Magdalina’s effort and sacrifice to provide refreshment for us. It didn’t feel right to ignore her kindness. I guess sometimes showing the love of Jesus means having a coconut - who knew!

I smiled at Maria Magdalina and pointed to the coconuts. Seconds later, a local man strode over with a rusty machete. He expertly hacked open the coconut and gave it to me. Maria Magdalina provided a straw. 

I stood sipping the exotic tonic and revelled in the surprising love of God. I remembered that I had a bottle of nail polish in my backpack. With Eduardo’s help, I asked Maria Magdalina if she’d like her toenails painted. She nodded yes, said something to Eduardo, and disappeared into what looked like a small concrete closet. “She is going to wash her feet,” explained Eduardo. The concrete closet contained a hose and soap - a local luxury.

I prayed for Maria Magdalina as I brushed red polish over her freshly scrubbed toes. For a moment, I felt a bit guilty because I wasn’t building. But I was - I was just building differently. 

I had ignored the urge to pee for hours, but by late afternoon, I realized I was losing the bladder battle. Going to the bathroom at the building sites is not for the faint-hearted (this is an understatement.) We often go the whole day without peeing if we can. A typical bathroom might be old sheets draped over branches and a hole in the ground. If we were lucky, there was an actual outhouse. I never got lonely in the bathrooms, though, as chickens often strutted in to gawk at me while my pants were down. 

Maria Magdalina noticed my discomfort and asked if I needed to go to the bathroom. I wasn’t sure what she was asking until she mimed undoing and pulling down her pants. I think she said the word “wee.” I nodded, and she led me away from the building site and through an old car graveyard. A dog shot out from under a car, barking and snarling at me. My bladder spasmed, and a bit of pee made its way down my leg.

Once we made our way through the maze of car corpses, we came to two outhouses. They were about twenty feet apart. We stood in front of one that had VIP handwritten on a cardboard sign. Maria Magdalina gestured for me to wait while she ran to the other outhouse, took a roll of toilet paper from it, and brought it over to me. Now I know what it’s like to be a VIP.

On our way back to the building site, Maria led me to a concrete cistern filled with clean water. She dipped a container in the water and nodded at my hands. I held them out, and it felt like a holy moment as Maria poured clean, cool water through my fingers. Sometimes the smallest acts of care mean the most. In that moment, I felt completely cared for. Not only by Maria Magdalena, but also by God. He sees our hearts and our needs, and he meets them in beautiful and surprising ways.

Maria Magdalina sitting in front of her old home.

Maria Magdalina's new home almost completed

Preparing my coconut!

Enjoying my coconut in front of Maria Magdalina's old home

Maria Magdalina and her pretty toes

I spent most of the morning playing with Gabrielle and his cousin. In front of Magdalin's brother's home.

Gabrielle and his cousin. What an honour to spend time with this little family.

Gabrielle sees his new home! A bedroom for each of them.

Gabrielle gets cleaned up to visit Grandma.

I'm probably smiling because I don't have to pee anymore.

Please consider helping me to return to El Salvador this November. I am responsible for fund-raising the cost of one home. The cost of the home is 4,000 dollars. I just need about a thousand more! 25.00 from a few friends and family members would mean a lot to me and the families receiving a home. Tax receipts provided by Shelter.

Donations can be made online using the link below.

Please contribute to the team, Sunwest Church –week 1, and my name where it says "Team Member." https://www.shelterhelps.com/sunwest

**Let me know if you donate, and I will send you an original haiku written with love just for you.**