That suffering I often heard about.
It was July 24, 2017, when I was told about a young missionary who was to present her humanitarian project in Montecalvo Irpino; skeptical by nature, I decided to go anyway, feeling a desire to know and understand what it was about. That was how I met Sefora. From the first moment, through her words and images, I was touched. They spoke of life, they spoke of hope, and they were full of truth. Thus, I decided to make my resources available and go to see firsthand that poverty and suffering I often heard about.
What I had only seen on TV until then was now before me
So in 2018, I left for my first missionary trip with HPS Charity. Upon arriving in Tanzania, I spent the first few days in a state of wonder; I felt like a wide-eyed child looking around in disbelief, fascinated but at the same time dejected. I could not explain how, in this day and age, such precarious living conditions could exist. There were no paved roads, sanitary conditions were disastrous, in some villages children did not even have clothes to wear, they had no opportunity for an education, and in the morning one had to wake up at dawn to reach the nearest well for water. What I had only seen on TV or in newspaper articles until then was now before me; it was tangible and it touched the soul. The sense of helplessness in the face of such poverty was painful. In the evening, after hours of traveling to reach the most remote villages, I would return to the base exhausted; there were too many things to absorb during the day, a powerful contrast between fascination and sadness. The large, beautiful eyes of those children looking at you with wonder and disbelief at seeing white skin, as if to say “Where do you come from? What stories do you have to tell me?”.
Among them were those who had never seen a white man like me, and the bravest would come closer to pinch your arm to make sure it was real. Then the others, motivated by the bravest, would approach, and suddenly you would find yourself overwhelmed by dozens of children who, with infinite smiles, would jump on you, trying to get your attention in search of a caress and care. Those eyes, those gazes remained impressed within like photographs; in the evening, when you found yourself alone with yourself meditating on your bed with your gaze lost in the mesh of the mosquito net, your mind could not help but replay those scenarios and those sensations that remained so strongly written inside. After a few days, I realized how extraordinary what I was experiencing was and how important it was for those people to receive help, a support that would allow them to improve their quality of life. We had gone to build a school, hours and hours of traveling by jeep on dirt roads in search of the right village, in search of that inner voice that would tell you “This is where you must work”.
We talked a lot with the members of the mission, sharing the sensations and realizations that were gradually taking shape within us; it was tangible that everyone was maturing and every day everything became clearer. The way of life and the culture of these people were extraordinary; despite having little, they shared everything. The sense of community was the strength of these people, always characterized by a bright white smile that gave more hope to us than we were giving to them.
The skepticism I had vanished, giving way to those images that will always remain impressed in my soul—images made of real life, composed of gazes that penetrate you and make you realize that you, in your own small way, represent hope for those who have nothing, and a small gesture can give so much. But the most paradoxical thing is that upon returning home, you realize you have received much more than what you gave. My thanks go to those wonderful people and to HPS; thank you for the richness you have given me.
