by A. Y. Ford

Created on: February 14, 2009

I have been blessed to travel to a few out of the ordinary places over the past three years. I have been to Gypsy villages in Romania, Bulgaria, and Turkey. I have been to cities in Mozambique and South Africa as well as rural villages in the same countries. I have also been to parts of the Philippines that have been riddled with terrorist activities for years. The exquisiteness and the brutality I have seen in these places have had a profound affect on my everyday living here in America.

In Eastern Europe I was assisting a group that goes into Gypsy communities at least twice a year to distribute food and attention to this group of outcasts. Gypsies are considered a lower class of citizens and are not allowed to participate in the daily life of their surrounding communities. Gypsy children are often not attending school because of the prejudice and abuse they endure. I met one Gypsy family whose son has been beaten and bones broken just because he attempted to go to school with the other children in his Bulgarian neighborhood. I was not around during segregation in America, but I have read and know that this is similar to what it was like here before the civil rights movement.

In Mozambique I had the opportunity to work with children who have been without parents their whole lives. The joy they are able to have about simple things in life could be a lesson for all of us Americans who are so worried about giving our children everything they could possibly want. It was an awakening to look into the eyes of children who are without parents, many have been abused, and some would starve to death without the help that is offered them through the mission group I was assisting.

South Africa offered me a quick education in a society still recovering from years of legal segregation. At the Apartheid museum I witnessed displays of daily life under the rule of this racist government. Some of the displays were emotionally hard to look at. My own family in America is multi racial so my compassion runs deep for those who are still living their lives under oppression because of the color of their skin.

In the Philippines I visited many churches and communities, but one sticks out in my mind far more than all the others. It was a tiny community where in 2001 most of the adults were massacred by terrorists. Many of the children survived, but without adult supervision they have had to find a way of their own. The village has been rebuilt somewhat, but the number of children without parents is high, and life for these children has been scarred by what they have witnessed. The atrocities these kids have beheld would be hard for anyone to endure.

Traveling to these interesting and out of the ordinary places grows compassion in my heart for others. I plan on continuing to travel around the world so that my perspective will not be just my small protected life here in suburban America. Last year one of my three children traveled with me to Africa. Giving my children a broader world view is part of my goal for their education. As I travel I assist any of the people I am capable of helping and once at home I try to raise awareness of the beauty and needs of other people groups and cultures.

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