by Christine Alexander
What happens when crushing poverty collides with faith in action? It causes a philanthropist's concern to grow, a student to want to make a difference, and a struggling mother to see hope.
"I was looking for something to devote my time and energies to," says Karen Pulte, of Bloomfield Hills, Michigan, "but I wasn't really interested in this ministry," referring to Central American Ministries (CAM), founded by Fr. Don Vettese, SJ, president of St. John's Jesuit High in Toledo, Ohio.
"Father Don would keep asking us to make a visit to Guatemala, and I kept saying 'No,' " she admits with a smile. "Actually, I was fearful of traveling to a Central American country and had little interest in connecting myself to the plight there. It really seemed overwhelming."
Undeterred, Vettese kept after Karen and her husband Bill to open their lives to Guatemala's poor. His persistence in winning over the Pultes and others to CAM has made life more tolerable for people who scavenge for a living in Guatemala City's garbage dump.
Mark Durst, one of the many St. John's students who have made service trips to Guatemala, has his own take on CAM's impact: "The way I've changed is deeper than a new appreciation for material things. It's more of a realization that my problems are insignificant in the grand scheme of things."
For Vettese, the spiritual consequences for Americans who meet with people living in intolerable poverty are as significant as meeting the temporal needs of those served. "They need us," says Vettese, referring to the world's impoverished millions, "but we need them more."
 Fr. Don Vettese, SJ, remembers a student asking him "Isn't there anything we can do?" when they witnessed the poverty of people working and living in this Guatemalan garbage dump. Vettese decided there were many things volunteers and donors could do; his Central American Ministries grew from the proverbial mustard seed. |
"My children no longer wake up with the nightmares they had sleeping in the dump," says Nina Mendez, who now lives in a house built by CAM. "Our family is healthy; we have clean water, electricity, and warmth. We have a place to be a family. I am thankful, thankful."
CAM's efforts have allowed Mendez and hundreds of others to move from cardboard shacks into cinder block houses with running water and power. Through CAM, thousands are fed monthly, seeds of small business loans are sprouting, and hundreds of babies leave the filth of a garbage dump for the security of a nursery.
"I used to wrap my baby in rags and carry her on my back to keep vultures away when I worked," Maria Gomez explains. "The Santa Clara Nursery is a clean place to leave her. She gets food and a clean crib."
For Vettese, bringing people face-to-face with the reality of the lives of impoverished people such as Mendez and Gomez is essential. Early on, Vettese knew that merely seeking donors was not enough, so he started "Come and See" trips of five or ten to supply a human face to the plight of the Guatemalans. "Generous people became even more generous," he says. "It's as if the scales fell from their eyes and they experienced a conversion of spirit—a new understanding and commitment to the poor."
Mary Lou Fox, a successful entrepreneur from La Jolla, California, could have written off her responsibility to these needy Guatemalans with a check, but she made the Come and See journey. "My first morning in Guatemala City, after having seen the human nightmare of the families working in the garbage dump, I sat in bed reflecting as to why I was there and why I should get involved. I quickly heard a clear and simple answer—'because you care.' "
One visit later, Fox set up a sewing school to teach women a money-making skill. "It's a great gift to have the means to help others and to have been led to CAM where the need—and the opportunities—are so vivid," she explains.
CAM has its roots in a mission trip to Guatemala that Vettese made with St. John's students in '95. Their van had to take a detour and ended up at the Guatemala City dump.
"I was transported to a scene I witnessed in Mexico many years before. People were scavenging through garbage for food and pieces of glass, plastic, and metal they could recycle. It was horrifying. I was revolted," recalls Vettese. That evening, as the students were talking about the day, one asked, "Father, isn't there anything we can do?" The question brought back to Vettese's mind a prayer he'd made those years ago in Mexico: "If there is ever anything I could do to help, may I do it." That night the prayer took on an urgency: "If not now when; if not us, who?"
These girls attend a school in Guatemala City that benefits from the volunteer teaching done by teams organized by CAM. Such work is part of the organization's expanding efforts to attack the causes of poverty itself through education. |
Back in the States, Vettese's mind bubbled with ideas. "I called the mayor of Guatemala City (Oscar Berger, now the country's president) and asked if there was a way we could join forces and help. I was overwhelmed by all the ways he identified that we could."
Over the next few years, the plans that Berger, his wife, Wendy, and Vettese made to help these destitute people started becoming reality.
"We needed more than donors—although they are certainly key," Vettese readily admits. "But, more important, we needed connection of hearts. We needed to be the ones Jesus spoke about when he said, 'When I was hungry, you fed me.' We wanted a ministry of spiritual renewal, not just charity."
The St. John's students on that first trip also made the first "ask" for a major donation to get the housing project going. They leveraged the $20,000 they raised from students, faculty, families, and businesses into $60,000 after a slide-show presentation they made to one company won them a 2-for-1 matching grant.
The Guatemalan government gave the land; the people who would live in the houses supplied the labor; and a couple underwrote the cost of the concrete, door frames, electrical supplies, and such for the first twelve homes of Colonia San Juan, named in honor of St. John's.
"The mayor and other city officials came," says Vettese, remembering when the first block homes were finished. "It was as if they had hope for the first time that these people would be more than a burden—an embarrassment."
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"It's a life-changing experience," says Karen Pulte, talking about the work that she's done in Guatemala City with CAM. Vettese has mastered the art of drawing much more than dollars from his donors. |
By the time the hundredth CAM home was up, so was a sense of optimism. When the principal of an abandoned school nearby asked CAM for help to reopen, the organization responded. "A home without an education won't help you out of poverty," says Vettese.
Karen Pulte explains, "The Francisco Coll School, all but closed up, was reopened. Today a new wing for 80 more children is being built. It's a wonderful opportunity for the children," who today number nearly 300. "When you see kids laughing, learning, being in a clean environment—it's an overwhelming blessing," Vettese says.
The nursery, another pressing need, was the next project tackled. "Up until that time little ones would sit in the garbage dump while parents scavenged," says Vettese. "Sometimes we'd get reports of babies being smothered to death in garbage landslides. Having the nursery was another vital part of helping these people." Today, 450 little ones are served daily at the Santa Clara Nursery.
CAM also turned attention to the reason for all these basic needs: poverty. "It made sense from supplying homes and a school for the children to offering microloans so those who have a sense of business could have an opportunity to try," says Vettese.
For Vettese, for St. John's students, for CAM's very involved board of directors, there was no limit to what CAM could do. When someone asked "Why can't we do this same thing in El Salvador?", CAM contacted authorities in Santa Ana, a city where conditions were even worse. The effort to replicate the Guatemalan success began.
Vettese has a global vision for CAM, now in its tenth year. "The UN reports that about 1 billion people live in squalor like those in the Guatemala garbage dump. We're giving direct service to hundreds of people every day, and that's vital, but for the future we need to understand and alleviate the consequences of poverty."
He imagines teaming the Jesuits' University of Central America in El Salvador with a university in the United States. "We need the best minds considering how we can impact this kind of gross poverty in a way that changes life for those with so little. What we will do will always be a drop in the bucket compared to the needs." But then he borrows a sentence from Mother Teresa: "We only try to do small things with great care."
 Christine Alexander, who worked for St. John's Jesuit High School for eight years, edits The Catholic Chronicle, Toledo's diocesan newspaper. |
Vettese sees change in people through their connection with CAM. "They ask, 'What difference can I make?' But the fear they have can be overcome, and when they find the Gospels have so much more meaning, their hearts change," he says. "These were generous people who have become more generous. Their compassion has grown as they are immersed in the needs of these 'least of the brethren.' "
Come and See participants agree. High school principal Robert Larcher calls the experience "a true turning point for me." Retired bishop Albert Ottenweller says, "My Come and See experience was like a pilgrimage to a holy shrine. It showed me the awesome possibilities for change when people care for one another." And veteran Karen Pulte is intent on inviting friends and acquaintances for a CAM trip. "It's a life-changing experience," she says. "I'm convinced of that."
"There is no better way I know to educate the heart than to spend time with these desperately poor people," says Vettese. "There is no better language to learn than the language of the heart." 