Camp Poverty

Mistaya and Sara after 24h living outside on 1$ a day and having to walk 2 km for their water supply. Including a few hours of breaking rocks as “child labour.”

Day one of living outside on 1$ a day. It rained the entire weekend on the girls. They were cold and wet. Peter and I were frantic, trying to persuade them to let us dry out their equipment for them. They ate almost nothing: dried ichiban noodles, raw cranberries and water. They camped in our backyard under the overhang to keep dry. Luckily it only got down to 7 oC at night. Still, such a worry. Considering it is swine flu season. I did not want them getting cold and weak from lack of nutrition. So…after 30 h I decided I wanted to pull the plug on their poverty expedition. It was too wet out side, too cold and they did not have enough to eat as their cranberries molded. I came home from a supper party up at M and J’s ready to fight them into the house for a meal and warm bed. To my surprise they were huddled in the kitchen, white as ghosts. Apparently, they were lying outside in their sleeping bags in the dark, trying to pass the long cold evening, when suddenly the sound of thundering hooves startled them. A giant buck (horse size) with 14 pt. antlers thundered by, just missing trampling their heads. It was running from the street, through our back yard, into the park behind our home. The shock of a giant animal trampling through their camp frightened those little POPs beyond all.  I bribed them to call an end to their Camp Poverty with promise of Taco Time burritos and ice cream for dessert. They agreed out of post buck-shock.
I can say though, they are two dedicated girls who have suffered cold, hunger, boredom and unexpected wilderness threats. They’ll have many stories to tell their Grandchildren. They also filmed their experience–they’re using it for their presentation they plan on taking around to all the elementary schools to raise awareness of how many children live in poverty.
My hat goes off to Mistaya and Sara–two amazing little girls with big girl ambitions, courage and compassion.
Such a difficult weekend. Relationship stress. I am a soggy wet old dishcloth. I want to cry–to relieve the stress, but man, I just don’t cry very easily at all. And oh, how a good boohoo used to feel so good. Now I get emotional asthma. Yuck. Crying was so much easier than wheezing lungs.
BTW, Tabs and Pip were little darling poopsies all weekend too.