My how time flies!
Already one month in Honduras, and three months outside of the US.
It’s funny how as time has passed, I have become accustomed
to not having water or electric all the time, drinking agua pura (clean water)
out of water tanks, washing clothes in the pila, cooking food in an outdoor
clay orno or over the fogon, and sweating (a lot and all the time). Sweating at night, sweating while raking,
sweating while washing my clothes, sweating while eating dinner, sweating while
working in the clinic.
I wipe off the heads of my patients who are wearing beads of
sweat on their foreheads. But sweating
in Honduras is inevitable, and you never hear shame about it, like, “I’m sorry
I’m so sweaty.” That’s not even a
thought. You hug sweaty people and hold
sweaty hands as you feel the sweat dripping down the small of your back.
Two other missionaries, Megan and Molly, and I have started
attending a women’s group (bible study-like) in the neighboring community. I feel so blessed to be sharing faith and
spirituality with the women of the community.
Some of the women walk upwards of 45 minutes to come to the group, but
they have made it a priority to share in community and be present. Presence…what a beautiful thing. Half the battle is showing up, and after
that, the Lord takes care of the rest.
I feel so peaceful here in Honduras. The culture here is one of community and
gratitude. It sometimes makes me think
of “the good old days” that I hear about in America, when a man’s word
was trustworthy and when people traded goods.
Life is different than in the US.
There is no “I” in anything; everything is a “we” effort. People in this town are so patient with us
gringos, and they have welcomed us with open arm and many kisses and the
cheeks.
When I first got here, I remember thinking, “Wow! This is not that radically different than the
US.” That was before I left the Finca
grounds…Wow…
The lack of economy here is particularly striking, and
people struggle financially. Aside from
college-prepared careers, like lawyers, doctors, etc., there are very few
jobs. People have come and knocked at
the Finca begging for work so that they can feed their families. There are women who make rosaries, tortillas,
etc., that Finca missionaries buy to take back to their families, in order to
support the community, but the need is ongoing.
We also prepare packages of food (rice, dried beans, coffee, Manteca,
etc.) for families and distributing them monthly to families in dire need. Some houses here are made from concrete and
cement, and others are made of sticks and mud clay, all with tin rooves. Many people have very few belongings. Walking around, I see many Hondurans sporting
clothing with English writing, clothing donated from the US or left by former
missionaries.
People walk for upwards of 30 to 40 minutes on the side of
the road to get to the Clinic of the Sacred Heart (Clinica del Sagrado Corazon). The clinic is open from 8 AM to (technically)
12 PM, but we are always busy, and rarely leave before 12:45/1 PM. At the clinic we see lots of patients, with
all sorts of issues. Anything from
bronchitis, to pneumonia, to wounds (we do A LOT of wound care), to chronic
issues like epilepsy, diabetes, hypertension, etc. A clinic visit costs L 15, about $ .60, if
the families are able to pay. In this
way, families take some ownership of their health care; however, about 20% of
our patients are unable to afford the cost, which is not a barrier to receiving
the care they need.
Last week, an elderly woman came to the clinic with what
looked like a very bright white cataract in her L eye, complaining of
pain. She had ridden the bus from VERY
far away, but came to the clinic because she was now unable to see out of her
eye, and her bony cheek was swollen and very painful. We learned that a long thorn had penetrated
her eye 8 days prior, and she had gone to a clinic in the mountains the day
after and they gave her something for pain. Upon closer inspection, her white
pupil was not covered with a cataract…It was covered with infection and pus,
and she will now lose her eye. We
cleaned out her eye, gave her a dose of IV antibiotics, and sent her home with
instructions for a nurse or doctor in the community to give her intramuscular
injections of antibiotics. My gut hurt
after sending home a woman (who can’t read and is blind in one eye) with
instructions, syringes, and needles to
administer IM antibiotics, but that is the reality of life here.
We trust the word of our patients who tell us that there is someone at
home qualified to give injections, we write instructions, and we pray for them
as we send them home.
All the meds and supplies in the clinic (with the exception
of those we have to buy) have been donated by medical brigades, and we are able
to give them to those who need them for free (when we have them). All medications that our patients receive are
funded by donations. That means the boy
with epilepsy, the elderly woman’s antibiotics, the anti-parasite
medications-all made possible by donations.
I was called to one house a few weeks ago for a Finca kid
who had a terrible headache and was screaming in pain- this 8-year-old boy was
new to the Finca, arriving 2 weeks before I did. When Ruthie, the other nurse, and I entered
the house, we found him to be having a seizure.
According to the boy’s brother, this same occurrence had happened “8 or
9 times” in the past before arriving to the Finca. He had been having seizures for years. The many long days that followed included and
inpatient stay at a hospital in Trujillo, a 5-hour ride to La Ceiba to get an EEG
and CT scan, a walk-in appointment with a Pediatrician to have the test results
read, and starting oral anti-seizure medications. All of this cost the Finca L 5000, or about
$200, which also has been funded by the generosity of donors.
We pray consistently for rain. We went for a long period here, over a week,
without good rain. The water from the
spigot is never okay to drink, but extended periods without rain leave the
pilas empty, which means difficulty washing dishes, cleaning clothes, bathing,
flushing the toilet. Then something
magical happened last Saturday night.
The skies opened and a torrential downpour began! What joy!
After placing buckets to collect rain water to fill the pilas and flush
the toilets, the missionaries ran outside with shampoo and we had the best
water pressure ever standing out in the rain, laughing and dumping water over
our heads! One of my favorite memories thus far!
Esta es la
vida, nuestra vida y la vida de nuestros hermanos. Somos hermanos, hermanos de Cristo, hermanos
de fe. Las bendiciones de nuestro Señor
nos han llevado de nuestras luchas y nos apoyarán por siempre. Toda la gloria al padre, al hijo, y al
Espíritu Santo, como era en el principio, ahora y siempre, por los siglos de
los siglos. Amen.
This is the life, our life and the life of our brothers and
sisters. We are brothers and sisters, in
Christ and in faith. The blessings of
our Lord have carried us from our struggles and will support us forever. All glory be to the Father, the Son, and the
Holy Spirit, as it was in the beginning, is now, and will be forever and
ever. Amen.
