*Written by Shade and Fresh Water's Global Missionary, Emily Everett, in May when she went to visit the Shade and Fresh Water Project in Boa Vista, Roraima.
I am here at the Venezuelan border in Brazil visiting one of our Shade and Fresh Water Projects that is working with the hundreds of Venezuelans that cross the border every day. The border is officially closed at the moment but this hasn’t stopped them from taking illegal (and much more dangerous) routes to get in the country. The city on the border town has no ability to meet their needs and their only option is to make it to Boa Vista, which is about 130 miles away.
If they don’t have money for the one bus a day that goes between the cities or to pay for a car (about $12 a person) they walk on foot. As we saw families arriving in the city with suitcases and backpacks, carrying whatever their hands could hold, the pastor said, “they will soon leave that all behind because it is too heavy to carry or because they will try to sell it for a ride. By the time they get to Boa Vista, they will usually have just a backpack.” And indeed we saw several families with small children walking this long stretch of desert highway yesterday trying to make it to Boa Vista in search of jobs. Unfortunately the situation isn’t much better there. There are about 7,000 people in shelters and 15,000-20,000 living on the streets. These numbers are estimated to grow to 15,000 in shelters (with the same number on the streets) by next year. Local infrastructure is doing its best in terms of registering, vaccinating, etc but they just can’t keep up. The Brazilian army and the UN Division of Refugees are running the shelters. They are constantly looking for organizations, churches or even individuals living in other states that can receive people and get them resettled and on their feet, but it is a slow process.
It’s absolutely devastating to listen to the stories and cry with the women as they talk about leaving their families. One woman wept as she said she left her kids and came to Brazil pregnant to try to get herself established here. When she heard the border might close, she risked going back at 7 months pregnant to get her children before it was too late. She went into labor on the way back and gave birth to her son who lived only 24 hours and died of hypothermia. She said, “I had to chose between my baby and my other two children. But now they are here with me and for that I am grateful.”
It’s unimaginable the pain you hear, and you have nothing to offer but your tears of solidarity. And then you turn around and you see the smiles on the kids faces, trying to be kids in the midst of this total chaos- playing, smiling, running, and it reminds you of resiliency, that hope rises and is persistent amidst the most unimaginable of circumstances.
The local Methodist Church here has been one of the leaders in working with the Venezuelans in Boa Vista (the other leading church working to resettle people is actually the Mormons). Church volunteers bring kids to the Methodist church multiple times a week to get them out of the shelters and give them time to play, make crafts, sing, dance and eat a hot meal. (Many thanks to UMCOR for supporting this project and giving them part of the resources necessary to do this work). They also go into the shelters twice a week to do sports and recreation (volleyball, soccer, rugby, chess and other games) to give the children and youth something to occupy their minds. For those 1-2 hours they aren’t refugees, they aren’t far away from home, hungry and uncertain about tomorrow, they are just playing soccer and screaming and celebrating goals. Life, if only for a moment, is good.
When I see the conditions here of thousands of people sleeping on cardboard and waiting in long lines for the possibility of leftover food to be delivered, it is hard to believe that things are worse in Venezuela, but they obviously are or else no one would risk it. And the people I talked to said they were happy to be here, even if on the street, because they could eat meat and many had already gained 5-10 pounds since arriving in Brazil.
I say all this not to be fatalistic or sensationalist but to give a real image of what is going on here. At the same time that I have been heart broken by what I have seen, I have also been challenged and inspired and reminded of what is possible when people look beyond national, ethnic, class and denominational lines to care for the most vulnerable in their midst. I have seen people turn their entire churches into makeshift shelters, receiving as many people as possible. I have seen Venezuelans and Brazilians working side by side to care for the children. I have heard people talking about the fines they received for giving rides to immigrants walking through the desert and how they wish they had the money to risk more fines because they would do it again. I have seen Augusto and Marcia, the pastors here, work tirelessly from sun up to sun down, organizing, mobilizing, encouraging and working alongside their church to better serve the Venezuelan community.
I wish I had more poetic words to describe the abundance that I have seen both of pain and of hope in the past two days. But I don’t. All I can say is that God is here.
God is living in the shelters.
God travels the desert road daily from Pacaraima to Boa Vista.
God plays in the mud with the children (the rainy season just started and while it makes it considerably cooler, everything is wet and muddy).
God laughs with women and men making homemade bread for the kids to eat before going back to the shelter.
God is present in the volunteers who have tirelessly given themselves to serve the Venezuelan people.
God shows up in the form of army generals who work around the clock to keep families safe in the shelters.
God is here.
In the midst of death, there is new life. In the midst of the darkness, there is light. In the midst of despair, there is hope, if you learn to look for it. Never stop looking for it. Never stop being it.
Emanuel. God with us.
Thanks be to God.
Gracias a Dios.
*Brazil, a heart that welcomes.
