At the waistline of the World, half a league over seas and oceans, the mottled outline of Earth's tectonic bosom cradles the city below. I behold, through wispy haze, the vestiges of a conquistador’s Elysium…
The mountainous area that surrounds Quito is shockingly gorgeous. Its Andean air is a pleasure to breathe, while succulent clouds tease the eye from greater heights. And yet at city-level, the reality of human life smothers the carnival of emotions swirling inside of me.
Before long, thoughts start to grind their way through my head, reducing my ego to pulp. Here I stand in a neighborhood located in a single section of one city of a developing country among many around the world. How many more people are out there – how many more instances of abused and abandoned children, of battered and desolate mothers, of families imprisoned within labyrinthine grids of cold concrete, cane, and dirt so dismal they would make Daedalus smile?
While I bask in sunlight, there are so many more who soak in clammy darkness. And rather than blind myself with the light of a good life, I continue squinting toward the mouth of that pit and tighten my grip on the small piece of rope in my pocket. There are very long pieces in the hands of a few, but I should not wait for them. I should tie mine to the small bits of many others who share theirs, and together, we may have enough to lasso the Moon.
These baroque allusions are nothing but a smoke screen for my lack of answers. The hope I have in humanity's ability for compassion and charity, regardless of our source for inspiration or however we might find them, is one of the few antidotes to my paralyzing frustration regarding poverty.
David Nebel is a translator and photographer for Children International. In this post, he reflects on a recent visit to the children and families of our child sponsorship program in Ecuador.
The mountainous area that surrounds Quito is shockingly gorgeous. Its Andean air is a pleasure to breathe, while succulent clouds tease the eye from greater heights. And yet at city-level, the reality of human life smothers the carnival of emotions swirling inside of me.
Before long, thoughts start to grind their way through my head, reducing my ego to pulp. Here I stand in a neighborhood located in a single section of one city of a developing country among many around the world. How many more people are out there – how many more instances of abused and abandoned children, of battered and desolate mothers, of families imprisoned within labyrinthine grids of cold concrete, cane, and dirt so dismal they would make Daedalus smile?
While I bask in sunlight, there are so many more who soak in clammy darkness. And rather than blind myself with the light of a good life, I continue squinting toward the mouth of that pit and tighten my grip on the small piece of rope in my pocket. There are very long pieces in the hands of a few, but I should not wait for them. I should tie mine to the small bits of many others who share theirs, and together, we may have enough to lasso the Moon.
These baroque allusions are nothing but a smoke screen for my lack of answers. The hope I have in humanity's ability for compassion and charity, regardless of our source for inspiration or however we might find them, is one of the few antidotes to my paralyzing frustration regarding poverty.
David Nebel is a translator and photographer for Children International. In this post, he reflects on a recent visit to the children and families of our child sponsorship program in Ecuador.
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