Lasting Thoughts - San Pedro Sula, Honduras

My third trip to Honduras lay somewhere between the joyous novelty of the first trip and the somberness of the second. Having been fortunate enough to come down to Honduras several times now, I feel like I have a better, albeit still incomplete, understanding on how to balance the harsh realities of poverty and the hope and joy that can be found in Honduran life. It is now more and more evident to me that serving in Honduras is something I want to do long term and as part of my life.

I remember being depressed last year thinking how all the effort I could ever put in working in the hospital would benefit just one hospital, in one city, in one poor country of the world. But then I recalled a quote from one of my favorite movies, Before Sunset, about how the people who do the most good in the world aren't necessarily the ones who are always thinking big, revolutionary thoughts. They're the ones who are focused on getting pencils to schoolchildren in Mexico, on small pragmatic steps on how to make the world better.

In between the doctors who are rushing to make their rounds and parents who are stressed out over their child's sickness and making ends meet, I realized that the kids in the pediatric ward, for whom life should be about carefree play and laughter, actually see very little play and laughter. And if our team can bring a smile to a child's face or help melt away a few painful hours in the hospital, then I think our time and efforts in Honduras were more than worth it. I'm not saying that it's not good to have big ambitions to change the world, but like in our team's situation in Honduras, it's important as well to look at the opportunities you have in front of you and make your mark there. A small difference is still a difference nonetheless and maybe after enough small differences, you'll see that the difference you made was a big one after all.

Hermana Lucila - San Pedro Sula, Honduras

The Each and Every journey has begun! We had the privilege on Wednesday to film the story of Hermana Lucila, a widow who lives in one of the cardboard villages in and around San Pedro Sula. Like many of the stories we've been hearing throughout the week, hers is one that renders amazement and reminds us of the triumphs of the human spirit.

A little more than a year ago, her husband passed away suddenly after he started bleeding from multiple orifices. About a month after that, her oldest daughter, aged 14, was killed after being run over in front of their house. Then, Hermana Lucila's house was burned down by an arson and soon after, she broke her arm and was unable to do her meager work of collecting recyclables for a living. She began praying that God would provide a home for her family, a prayer which was answered when the local church our Honduras team partners with visited the village, heard her plight, and decided to construct a house for her (the bottom two photos are the before and after pictures of her house). Hermana Lucila is now a member of the church Ministerio Renuevo and continues to collect recyclables for a living, at a rate of $0.10 per pound, bringing home on average $1.50 a day to provide for herself and her two remaining daughters.

We'll share more on her story in our self-made documentary Each and Every. Find out more about what we're doing and support us at the following links:

http://www.indiegogo.com/eachandevery

http://www.facebook.com/eachandeverycampaign

The People You Meet - San Pedro Sula, Honduras

I won't say that Honduras is the most special country in the world, that it has the most welcoming people, or the most heartwarming stories. I don't think any one country can lay claim to those titles. But I will say that Honduras is a beautiful, beautiful country that holds a special place in my heart and I'm sure, the hearts of the team as well. I got to meet several amazing people over the past few days. Here are some of their stories:

Keylin (the girl above) was shot three times when armed robbers broke into her house. We couldn't quite figure out what happened to her parents, but it seems that they were either killed in the robbery or they abandoned her in the hospital. Either way, Keylin's pretty much alone in the hospital except for her grandma who is there at times. Keylin's one of the bravest individuals I've ever met. She was shot in the stomach, lung, and esophagus and can't eat or walk around really, but she's all smiles whenever we're there and can't wait to do crafts or draw with us. It's amazing to see how she shrugs off painful shots and the need to throw up every so often, how she has so much joy in her life, how she refuses to be bitter with her circumstances.

Angie (the woman below) took Daniela, the baby, in after her own sister abandoned her because of Daniela's illness and the exorbitant cost of her medication. Angie, now the mother of Daniela and her own 4 year-old son, is a single mother and full-time student at the local university and spends her free time dozing off in the hospital while trying to study. I can't begin to comprehend the heart it takes to not only take in a newborn baby, but one who is extremely sick, especially when you have little means to provide for your own family.

Thank you Keylin and Angie for letting us into your lives.

Rest and Privilege - San Pedro Sula, Honduras

I got sick on Friday with a throat/sinus infection. Despite being limited to the hostel and not being able to visit the hospital, getting sick reminded me of how privileged we really are. Not only was I being treated by Dr. Juan (read more about him in the Medical Brigade entry) and getting free medicine, the fact that I was getting treated at all was a blessing. Like I mentioned in the last entry, so often the poor in Honduras can't afford even getting to the doctor, let alone pay for a doctor's visit or medicine.

Saturday was the team's break/decompression day. We spent the day in the beach town of Tela, Honduras, in a rather first-class resort. After a really fantastic Honduran lunch, we spent the day in the water and climbing coconut trees. It was a struggle enjoying the beauty of the beaches in Honduras and realizing that what we were experiencing was out of reach for so many Hondurans. Nonetheless, we just felt incredibly blessed to be able to see and experience a different part of what makes Honduras so wonderful.

Medical Brigade - San Pedro Sula, Honduras

The team spent the day close to one of the local bordos, or cardboard villages, near Rio Blanco helping out at a medical brigade. It felt really good to be involved with a very practical act of helping people. Dr. Juan, a friend from the local church, saw patients while we helped hand out medicine as well as create a new floor over some muddy ground where mosquitoes could potentially breed. Of the 78 kids seen by Dr. Juan, only 3 were healthy, which means the other 75 were given medicine that could help with their sickness. 4 kids were sent to the hospital because their conditions were too severe for the medical brigade. When asked why they waited for so long to go to the hospital, the parents replied they didn't have the money to go to the hospital. It was a reminder of how blessed we are to be able to have luxuries such as health coverage.

A quick plug on Dr. Juan Sortos and his family, especially his wife, Patti. They devote so much time to helping people, whether it be at the brigades or being on-call all the time in case our team gets sick/injured. They took this afternoon off simply so they could see people living in the bordos for free and provided money to get medicine or get to the hospital when they couldn't help. They truly are such a blessing not just to the people in Honduras, but the world as well. We need more people like them.

And A Roof Over Our Heads - Naco, Honduras

A few of us traveled to Naco, Honduras, an hour and a half away from San Pedro Sula to put a roof on the house of a pastor. Naco is a poor town in the middle of a valley and it made me think of the standard of living we take for granted (especially in the US) and what we consider to be necessary for living. Houses were made of mud, livestock roamed in and out of homes, and cooking fires were started with anything that would catch.

Yet, here sat this town in the middle of a beautiful, beautiful green valley, a place we would travel for hours to see back home. It reminded me of how much emphasis we place on financial wealth and leave other aspects of our lives in poverty. Though the folks living in Naco aren't necessarily rich, they live on fertile land that provides for what they need and have fostered a community where doors are open and children run freely. I wonder how many of us would trade our lives in the "First World" for a plot of land in Naco.

The Hospital - San Pedro Sula, Honduras

Hospital Mario Catarino Rivas

It's now my third time visiting and volunteering at the hospital and it still astounds me how unprepared I am to handle what I see and experience. Catarino Rivas is the 2nd largest public hospital in Honduras and handles cases from the Northern/Western half of the country. Given the recent political turmoil and Honduras' status as one of the poorest countries in the Western Hemisphere, the hospital is severely underfunded. The pediatric ward, where we've been spending most of our time, has been drastically undermanned given the recent nurses strike (the nurses, who pour their lives out for the kids, had not been paid in months) and underfunded (prior to some medical supplies donated a few years back, veterinary syringes were being used and shared because they couldn't afford normal ones). When we first arrived on Monday morning, a child had just died due to an overdose of medication given by student doctors (who are there to replace fully-licensed nurses).

Yet, when we arrive each day, we're greeted with smiles and open arms. From children who have suffered more than we likely ever will in our lifetimes. And very simply, all they want to do is hang out, color, or make crafts.

Really, who are we to be so honored? And how do you reconcile the simple joy of the children and the very harsh reality of their sickness and potential deaths? How do you retain hope when medicine is lacking, doctors are undertrained, and coffin stores are across the street waiting to make another sale?

One of the biggest frustrations we have working at the hospital is the inability to really change things on a macro scale. I think much of the team has grasped that and understood that our goal will be to change things on a scale where we can make a difference. And sometimes that's just putting a smile on a kid or entertaining a child awaiting surgery or chemo. So we'll try and do that knowing that even small differences are differences nonetheless.

The Journey

In 2011, sometime during my one and a half year stint at a market research firm, I realized that my summer volunteer trips to Honduras had made me want to do more with my life outside of the corporate bubble I was in. My buddy James and I decided it was about time to see the world for a bit and began planning a once-in-a-lifetime trip. This manifested into the map/itinerary above. And then, sometime into the planning process, we wanted to do more than just travel and invest in ourselves. An idea about filming a documentary was born. We didn't have much of a clue as to how we would go about doing this, but we knew it would be about the world. About people. 

So then this happened.

http://www.indiegogo.com/eachandevery?a=791047

We are 80% self-supported and are trying to fundraise for the last bit. Please consider supporting us and becoming a storyteller with us!

With love,

Kenny

Nostalgia - San Pedro Sula, Honduras

Prior to actually coming to Honduras, the only facts I knew about Honduras came from high school Spanish class - that it was in Central America and that it had a long and funny-sounding capital, Tegucigalpa. Who would have thought that a country I would have never imagined myself coming to now evokes nostalgic memories?

Of course, this picture isn't representative of the chaotic streets of the 2nd largest city in Honduras, but the green in Honduras is one thing that always makes me feel at home. It has something to do with how urban concrete hasn't trumped nature, yet.

Anyway, this is my third time in Honduras. Our team is here on a mission to serve at the local public hospital as well as build a house for a local pastor in one of the neighboring villages. Our first two days in San Pedro Sula were spent mostly getting reacquainted with the city and old friends, going to church, and prepping for the week ahead. Updates on the upcoming week to follow.

It was a difficult few weeks leading up to the trip. The team was only halfway fundraised just a couple weeks before the trip and ongoing news reports about the safety situation in Honduras and the poor conditions in the hospital were discouraging. Because of a recent spike in drug-trafficking, Honduras now has the highest murder rate per capita in the world. Our first year down, a mother and baby were murdered in front of our hostel due to drug violence. Furthermore, nurses in the public hospital were on strike because they hadn't been paid in months.

Nonetheless, we are here.

Forging Ahead

(OK, this picture is at least a little cool. This was at Arthur's Seat in Edinburgh when I was backpacking in '09.)

I'm restarting this blog for what I hope will be a life-changing next 6 months.

I thought long and hard about what to title this next evolution of my blog and got stuck with one word.

forge/fôrj/

Verb:

Make or shape (a metal object) by heating it in a fire or furnace and beating or hammering it. Move forward gradually or steadily.

This would be a time where I would forge a new path, off the common road. After spending a year and a half working in market research and being afraid that I'd wake up 30 years-old one day and discover that I had settled and become complacent, I realized that my dream career did not exist and that I would have to create it.

Forge it.

Like a machete-wielding Indiana Jones. Or a submarine-adventuring Captain Nemo.

I'm both excited and nervous about the prospect of going off the beaten path and, God willing, forging not just a new path, but perhaps a new me as well. Excited because for the first time in my life, I have the freedom and ability to pursue the things I love most (more on that later). Nervous because like any other finely-crafted metal product, I expect the product of my pathfinding to be forged with fire and adversity. I can already see a few potential flare-ups. Running out of money. Malaria. Losing/breaking equipment. Getting robbed. Diarrhea. Getting lost.

But hopefully, success or failure, I'll come out the other end and be able to say that I tried.