Kung Fu and The Streets of El Alto

Every tuesday, BSCP partners with a local church located in El Alto, the poor urban area that sits at the top of the bowl of La Paz to participate in street outreach from around 10am-1am, serving the children who live and sleep on the streets. They usually bring bread and coffee, provide basic first aid, play soccer with the kids, and just spend time forming friendships. Last night I had the privilege to join this group.


On our drive up to El Alto, Chi Huang, the founder of BSCP explained to three of us from the organization that the presence and need of street children in El Alto has increased so much in recent years. The Bolivian police have taken part in an intense effort to "cleanse the streets," physically removing children from the streets in La Paz by putting them in police vehicles and dropping them off in the Jungle (a few hours drive away) or putting them in government warehouses. Police are notorious among the street children--physical, sexual, and emotional abuse are very common experiences for these children. As a result, where there used to be an estimated 3,000 street children on the streets of La Paz, remains only a spattering. Though the problem still remains as robust as ever--children just have been shuffled around the area to avoid the police. Many have migrated to other parts of the country: Sucre, Cochabamba, and many now to El Alto.


El Alto has a night life of its own--people everywhere, food stands and stores still open, lots of cheap hotels and single room occupancy buildings, buses and cars jam packed the main streets. Streets smelled like a mixture of urine, thinner, rotting food, and garbage. Those were the loud elements, the things easy to see, smell, hear. But then if you really paid attention, there were "quiet" elements on the streets that were loud in a different kind of way. Groups of children sleeping under a blanket and tarp under an overpass. Teens walking around with bloodshot eyes, a large grin, and a stagger, fresh off of inhaling thinner. A stab wound from a police man hidden under a sweater sleeve. An infected wound from a blow to the head from a fist-fight four days ago. A large scar outlining the side of a young man's face.


I think it's really tempting to sensationalize such experiences and hold it in our minds for a little while until it starts to lose its sting...and we move on with life. I'm tempted by that even today. Maybe that's a way that we protect ourselves, almost as if we just saw some movie, we absolve ourselves of responsibility, and make the world seem a little more rosy and comfortable to live in. And I think this process is subtle. Yet I don´t see the solution to this being people of misery, wallowing in what the world is that we forget what can be done. Then we risk being overwhelmed by the enormity of the issue and are crippled by the fact that no matter what we do nothing will make a difference.



So where is the balance, how do we properly hold in our mind and heart the injustice surrounding us in the world today? This is no easy question to answer (yet I would love to discuss if you have thoughts). Here are some thoughts though on how we can begin to live out of the difficult things we see and experience: I really believe that God has given us all unique passions and strengths from which to serve the world around us. For some people, this might involve working with government, law, or policy to change the structures from which societies are guided. For some people this might involve working in IT to bring technologies to areas that can be well served by accessing and storing information. For some people this might involve being the ones to physically touch the sick and provide the care that allows others to live a life outside of being sick. And for others this may involve creating photography, writing, and art that captures stories and experiences of those less fortunate to educate the world and bring injustices closer to home. The list goes on. What matters most though, is that whatever we do, we do in humility, courage, and love.


We must start small and hope big. And trust God.


On a lighter note, our group had an opportunity to talk with a group of younger men that evening. They were obviously high, slurred speech, blood-shot eyes, unsteady stance, and uninhibited speech. One of the guys, noticing I was asian, asked if I knew Kung-Fu. He kept insisting I do a demonstration for him and his friends, even though I kept telling him I didn´t know Kung-Fu. I couldn´t help but smile. Imagine me, on a street corner in Bolivia, doing Kung-Fu.


*Pictures: I have taken many since being here, but have not been able to get my hands on a card reader. When I arrive home, I promise a massive post filled with lots of pictures.

Hope everyone is well! I miss you all!