Currently I am really suppose to be in Evolutionary Biology. Instead I am sitting in the apartment listening to Elijah Bossebroek, drinking peppermint tea flavored with dark chocolate, with a heating pad on me belly. It is excellent.
With Valentine's Day creeping it's curly haired Cupid little cherubim head around the weekend corner I can't help but to think about where I was two years ago from this Feb. 14. In high school, Valentine's Day marked the beginning of a much anticipated soccer season (and candy). In college I just dreaded it and looked forward to eating the candy. Pretty sure I spent last Valentine's Day alone in my dorm room eating, you guessed it, candy and watching the movie "Valentine's Day". Super.
But if you want to hear about how I really feel about the day, go to my other blog. This blog is for the one true week that I took off from school and went on a mission trip with a small group to Honduras. I wrote about the trip in a blog that I use to have and have since abandoned. So this is a copy/paste and slightly edited version of what I wrote 2 years ago:
How do I place 8 days of something purely awesome into just a journal entry? I have pages and pages of thoughts in my journal I took with me to Honduras. Unfortunately (but really not unfortunate at all), about 2/3 of the pages in my notebook were ripped about to supply Noe and I with coloring paper and prescription paper for Doctor Marcus. I know I have overlooked several thoughts and emotions that were once fresh and alive in my mind and now quiety lounge back in my brain somewhere. Every now and again those rush of emotions will re-appear as nostalgia will one day hit me.
I left for Honduras on Valentine's Day. I wouldn't have wanted to express love in any other way. Other than two 10-year old kids, I was the youngest in a group of 5 with four men from their 30s to 60s. I felt just a little out a place. Just a little. The most spirttually immature of the group (besides Junior and Patience) and the most naive in the ways of the world and missions. This was my first medical related service trip and I have had to adjust my personal views of "missioning" for lack of a better words, to cater to this specific trip. In most cases, I would say we should go in to create a way for the people to eventually be independent of our presence in their community. But medical missions is a different case. It is a constant need that cannot be healed by occasional trips throughout the year via churches supporting CMCH (the organization we went through). It demands constant funding for medications and delivering aid to the communities in the mountains that are more deprived and remote. A trip to Tauble for these people is half a day there and back, if one can find a ride.
I also learned about myself and my future goals and confusions with pursuing either the medical or ecological field. Being set in a place so tropical and ecologically rich, and seeing it so trashed with wastes throughout each village made such an impact on my views. I spent a larger portion of my thoughts about ways to organize trash pick-ups within the communities and education on the importance of keeping water sources clean. Honestly very little of it was spent on the medical service at hand. Although the extent of my wildlife experiences there were the large venues of vultures, what may have been a king snake, a bat cave, and the nocturnal croaks of geckos, I got excited about exploring forests higher up and discovering what kind of biodiversity Honduras could offere and how I could use that to improve their conditions; medically and economically.
They were irreplaceable. They were kind and patient with my very basic conversational Spanish. They hugged and smiled and made you feel as if this was your home. And I did feel as if I were home. The combination of mountains and the simplicity of life overwhelmed me. Sitting on the front porch with Martha's family around me, Armando playing in the dirt, I felt like I fit. There was the appreciation of everything offered in life and the unsurpassing beauty that surrounded and embedded into me. Their love for God is adamant. Every statement praising God was followed by "Allelujiah!" and "Dios te bendiga" was welcomed with a true gratitude and "Amen."
I was frustrated at frist. Within CMCH there seems to be disagreements and a dire need to refocus. Just within our small group, that was formed by 3 separate NC churches, there were disputes and questions on the right way to mission to the people of the villages we visited. I began to question with so many different faiths how do we know the right way we can truly love and show love? How do we allow others to let us in so we know truly what is best and not what we think is best? It weighed heavily on me throughout one of the days and then Yobanny preached that night in Ocoman. The grace of Ocoman swept over me in the day as well as at night. Up high in elevation I felt as if I was in a crystal globe looked up at the stars that arched overhead. Yobanny preached (the entirety in Spanish) repeating several times, "Quien puede parar el amor del Cristo?" (Who can stopl the love of Christ?) And his words there and following his sermon spread through my entire body instantaneously. I could literally feel it. It doesn't matter to worry about how we can show love. If we simply allow ourselves to and with a transparent heart, then love will be evident and it will illuminate. A burden lifted off. I could already see it in the people we met in Honduras. Martha, whom I had only talked with briefly even had a tone of love and joy in her voice when she spoke. The way she smiled at me while I played with Armando and Blanca, and invited me to Blanca's birthday party after only meeting me once, and preparing a meal for us after leading us with her family to the coolest cave ever. It every action she had love beaming right through. This was the same for so many others.
Why can't we feel that here? How do I come back to the United States and somewhat lose that sense of compassion for each other? Love is perverted here. We are mindful to express emotion and care for one another. I am soooo guilty of that. I want to work on my own expression of love and not to fear to love unconditionally. Reciprocated feelings don't matter, we just need to 100% care for each other!
We reached over 300 people in the 3 areas where we opened up a clinic in. It required a lot of medicine and more was needed. I was ambushed at one point for toothbrushes and toothpaste. Let me repeat that...toothbrushes...and toothpaste. I was mauled by 60 kids who were so proud to have one of their choice color and to sweetly ask to get some for their more timid siblings. Children without teeth even held out their hand for one! It was incredible.
I love how God is creative. The way He works is mysterious. It has never ceased to boggle my mind no matter what spiritual level I am at. And I absolutely adore his artwork. Sunsets and sunrises, mountains, vegetation, rivers and waterfalls, every piece of nature. These are my favorite things: creativity and overwhelming beauty of overlooking a village from the top of a mountain in another country and feeling right at home.
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